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[moxtoons]

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[solomonssock]

To Capture A Demon's Heart

Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)

TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!

Word Count: ~5,000

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On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”. 

You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?

Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?

The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough. 

You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin. 

You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin. 

Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway. 

You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is. 

A knock sounds at your door.

"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.

There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.

"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.

"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up. 

Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him. 

"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room. 

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?" 

"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.  

"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon. 

You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours. 

"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon."  He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.

"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"

He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."

Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown. 

"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated. 

"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later. 

"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.

"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."

You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.

"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.

"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.

"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.

"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.

"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.

"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."

"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."

Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.

"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.

"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.

You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.

"The hells that?" 

You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?

"You mean the lotion?"

"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.

You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.

That is, until you open your mouth again.

"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.

"Ya ain't goin nowhere."  Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe. 

"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you. 

"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!" 

"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"

He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.

You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere? 

"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you. 

A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"

 He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly. 

You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.

"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him. 

"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?" 

Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.

"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek. 

You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.

"I mean it, Mam." 

At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.

"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed. 

"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him. 

"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title. 

"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"

"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.

"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."

Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"

You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.

"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner. 

"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.

"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"

"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."

"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged. 

"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."

You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does. 

"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll  just be a snoozefest."

"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.

You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick. 

You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.

"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.

"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.

"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?" 

Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you. 

"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?" 

He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable. 

You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war.  Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir. 

Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"  

It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape.  You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.

"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.

"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"

Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.

"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that." 

"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?" 

He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.

"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm. 

Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.

"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.

"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.

You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."

He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly? 

"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.

"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head. 

"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier. 

"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic. 

"So, the wrestling...?" 

"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match. 

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder. 

"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"

"Bingo."

You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed. 

You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.

"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much. 

"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."

Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.

"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."

Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"

"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-

"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.

"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.

"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.

"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.

"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?" 

"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."

"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.

"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-

"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.

"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived. 

You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.

"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.

"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.

"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now. 

"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?

"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"

You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you. 

"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."

You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."

He hums but doesn't move.

"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks. 

"Seriously, you would accept it?" 

"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy. 

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"

"Whatd’ya want now?" 

"Can I kiss you?"  

In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect. 

You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.

"I love you, Mam." 

You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him. 

"I love ya too, MC."  He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.

It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.

"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.

"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"

[solardick]

Would one pray upon being a blessing on everyone they meet? As the term “to pray insists its existence in the absence of violence. Take the intent and pour power into it. This is the meaning of a prayer.

The constructive use of living images, fantasy, and the like. Is to put it to use. Active involvement with the motion to practice learn, and build, to particular social situations.

Is to play. The mind creates and doors open.

The day the world respects my choices and what i stand behind, while expecting me to give back the opposite of what is received would be great.

Thanks for breaking my sex. And thanks for reenforcing the notion that i’ll never get to experience the love of a good woman within a functional relationship. And not one knowing nothing else nut others dominance and negative reenforcements. 39 years and counting. Yeah for being alive. Ill work tillninretire if indont shot myself before then. And then ill shoot myself. And just continue doing what you’ve always done. Support others through transitions and healthy decisions. While they all rape existance for their own selfish ends. Existance will always ever be just me. Surrounded by violence manipuation and bs.

Prayers are useless to a slave.

I gave her the devil card through someoneelse. And all they did on my side talk about dicklove. Like usual. Buch of f@gt$

The positive side of the tower is the removal of constraints. Of the veil consealing whats within. It encompasses. Discovery and rhat ancxious type feelign. Perhaps a little exileration. It is tied to violence on the positive side to. It implied actions and impatience, and it implied receptivity to another party’s giving. Easily twisted as is everything in tarot.

The secret valentine or a gift on christmas morning. The french deck had it right with its raining one colourful lights found no when else but to december.

This too requires an act. An act of giving. Its a movement forward. In the place of expédition, the reception act is in confirmation. Though that door may be just as closed to the care of the response. Which is an iffy issue towards the selfish or selfless. For either one may be on either side.

More to gain here if, i can get mind on it.

And how else do most open a gift? It ties into the conditioned sexual act. One tares into it. At first in hast, later with more resistance. As if trying to be polite and civilized about it. Restraint. Built into the structure. Desensitized. To the experience. It’s amazing when it bubbles underneath. In one’s gut. In one’s chest. Feel it running through one’s hands. Is it just on the surface? or is it running through the bone? When all is right. Its just as dangerous if not. It wants a feedback.

The response which came back the next day. Another curiosity to being hooked up with a horny 20 y’old cousine of a bible camp trooper. Asked again. Ok, it isn’t just play. They want a fact. The natural response coinciding with the act;

“No, i don’t want a 20 year old slut. i ain’t a flooring dildo.” Message sent. Stop tying your gay shit to my motives. Pls.

Cant be said any clearer, or respectfully than that. If thats a problem for two, then that sounds like a you problem, dont take it out on me.

Dance with me, luv. She, so happens to dance. I’m giving back what was given to me. What else a man to do? No one knows the allure of a devil more than me. It’s been played on me since existence was born. All my life experience ties into it. I mean, what guy wouldn’t want a stand with a horny 20 yearold. Full smoking. ? That’s the play. Of course i do. Except…. Where’s the connection? Passion is deep, and frigid. Pure sexual gratification doesn’t matter and doesn’t interest me. The acts sensible to indebtednes and union as the basis. Beyond this, already bonded… theres more freedom of movement. For it centralizes around the pillar.

And i know its there, luv. It’s coming from you and i am weak. The card couldnt describe the relationship better. Where it goes from here. Im less concerned with. It feels good to provide. Since the social is flat. And exists solely on life support. Where “Waite’s” devil is a seal. Tying either party together. Morphing bonding impressions. Forming intent and magnetizing the compass, modifying direction. It was the perfect gift.

Direction is working again. But, north isn’t true north anymore and it never will be again.

Perhaps the shrink would say, im searching for mother’s approval. And not her spychotic disapproval. They’re all psychotics and im badly aspected to all of them. tmi.

Thr little amount of sleep and straining effort makes me sleepy. And not desiring to do anything. 5pm. Think its time for bed.

Well that all depends if they’re a scorpio rising or not. Perhaps its just a fluid pluto aspect. Scorpio rising at that age. Would place that saturn right where it belongs.

Though other “options” appear. A lower class striving. Ambition wise, is simple. And ungrandios. Not trying to fill in any shoes. French, less fluid in english.

I see, in this situation i don’t want to take advantage of. An Eros sun speaks volumes in the creation of love. Community endeavours.

[hello-nichya-here]

If Ursa's love was unconditional, Azula still probably thought that it wasn't. And after Azula thought she "failed" to meet the conditions to the kind of love Zuko received from Ursa, Azula assumed that her mother never loved her. Because who can't be loved? A monster. (E.g. Ursa didn't say goodbye to Azula) And so part of Azula must have always low key believed that she isn't perfect no matter how hard she tries to be, because she's a "monster" and that's why her mother "couldn't love" her.

"My own mother thought I was a monster... She was right, of course, but it still hurt."

However, I can't exactly say that Azula herself can only love conditionally. Because it would be weird to say that Azula only loved Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee as long as they loved her. She has done things for them all that were unconditionally solely for their own benefit. When Mai and Ty Lee betrayed Azula, inferring to her that they stopped loving her (as she probably thought), she imprisoned them after being stopped from executing Mai by Ty Lee, implying that Azula wanted to execute Mai on impulse (without forethought, engulfed by emotions). And when she was stopped, she didn't order to neither torture nor execute them nor their families. And well, if she entirely stopped loving them and became totally apathetic about it, the mirror scene wouldn't exist where she basically reflects on her actions (also how her expression twisted in pain when Ursa said "Mai and Ty Lee"...) Her love for them is twisted. But I can't exactly call it conditional since she was pretty lenient when they disobeyed her, called her out, ect. She didn't just see them as her subordinates but as her friends as well.

I can't say for certain whether Azula loved Zuko "unconditionally" or not but her love for him definitely differs from the kind of "love" she thought she and he were gaining from Ozai, meaning that no matter how much Ozai brainwashed her, she still loved Zuko in her own way, not in "the right" way, not the way Ozai made her think he loves her. Like you said, Ozai made Azula have an extremelly poor understanding of what kind of emotion (if any) she should feel if Zuko died; Ozai, her idol, her own father, The Fire Lord, who she thinks can't be mistaken, disfigured him, disowned him, sent him on an impossible quest, you know the drill. But she still brought Zuko home, she still tried to connect and support him even after they fought each other multiple times. Hell, she even tried to set a date for him and Mai in "The Lost Adventures" comic. (Also she basically made it possible for Mai to become the future Fire Lady, meaning Azula wouldn't be able to command her around and they would be on equal terms) And she had nothing to gain from doing all this for him. She had the nerve to lie to Ozai, safety transported Zuko home, making him the crown prince again which again ignites rivalry between them from the throne and Ozai's love (because I assume that whoever Ozai chooses to be the heir is the one whom he "loves" and trusts more but I could be wrong, maybe she had always known that Ozai will love her more than Zuko anyway so might as well concede him the throne, she's not that power-hungry anyway).

And yeah, I also don't know if Azula loved Ursa conditionally but she wasn't apathetic towards her even after Ursa's neglect and sudden disappearance. Azula was still hurt and sad and bitter, meaning there's still a part of her that (even if reluctantly/unadmittedly) loves her mother and desperately wants to be loved by her in return.

Even thought I just said that I don’t know if Azula loves people in her life unconditionally, I've just proven that Azula does indeed?... The thing is, I'm not sure. So I'm asking you.

The thing I am sure about is that Azula needs to be shown how healthy relationships work. It'll be hard, confusing, conflicting maybe even painful for her to learn that but healthy relationships and unconditional love are exactly what she needs, what she should have had from the moment she was born.

Azula's love for the people around her is not conditional, but whether or not she shows them that love depends on the "Will my father disown me if I do this?" condition.

But yeah, she absolutely needs someone to teach her how healthy relationships work, not just so she should or shouldn't treat those she cares about, but also so she'll know what is or isn't okay of people to expect of her.

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy waters — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 7.8k

Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, mini tiny angst; established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello teddy bears! I was supposed to take a small break today, but I decided that I wanted to keep working on Steamy Waters since it was Hobi’s turn and it could be an awesome chance to gift this job to an incredible writer who I’m getting to know these days. It was her birthday recently and I thought that I could offer her this small thing as a two-day-late birthday gift. Happy birthday, @xjoonchildx​ !

As most fics I write, this can be read as a standalone, however, just to find the right vibe (*haha foreshadowing is a lovely thing*) I decided to ideally set it after The Studio. 

For those who haven’t read it, I’ll run a quick recap. 

Giggles has moved into Hoseok’s apartment, but unfortunately he couldn’t help her since he’s been incredibly busy working on a new project. Giggles was very angry and visited his studio. Since he feels horrible, he asks her what he needs to do for her to forgive him. Giggles states her conditions and decides to proceed with the plan that brought her to his studio, tying him up to his chair and toying around with sensation play before giving him head, their reunion culminating in very emotional and heartfelt fucking (it exists, look it up in the dictionary).

Now, as Hoseok drives her back to their home, he can’t stop thinking of how she took the reins, but also he can’t wait to make her pay for the incredible amount of torturing she put him through. Plus, he’s still thinking about the content of her totebag… As soon as they get home he decides to hit the shower, the water clearing up his mind and helping him organise all his ideas into a plan. That is, if Giggles doesn’t play her wildcard first. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Master!Hoseok, sub!reader; Bondage (rope and manacles), mentions of tickler, riding crop, flogger, mentions of squirting; mentions of angst related to Hoseok being busy with his job and not supporting his girlfriend as she moves in his apartment; ben-wa balls; massage oil; grinding and masturbation (male and female receiving); very brief oral (female receiving); multiple cumshots and cumplay in general, mentions of cum eating; a very fancy riding crop; sensation play; tickle play; overstimulation; laugh fetish, crying (from overstimulation); and finally vibrating cockring and multiple orgasms. Have I ever mentioned Hoseok likes changing positions a lot? Well, anyways, suit yourself.

[Ana, if any of this stuff triggers you I am extremely sorry and you are allowed to request a refund for this messy, unedited gift, and I’ll make sure I can offer you a wholesome, cuddly Hoseok taking reader on a cute date and spoiling her rotten with love and affection 😅😊]

Here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy this (for now unedited) mess ✨💜 

——————————————————————

Hoseok’s eyes kept wandering between the red traffic light in front of him and the cotton tote at your feet as you sat on the passenger seat of his car, headed to your apartment. 

Your shared apartment. 

Your home.

He was still trying to understand how you had found the courage to turn his toys against him, to play a role he’d never imagined you in. 

You and your pretty eyes and your cute smile and your lovely hair, and your delicate, tiny hands, teasing him with the tails of his flogger, pushing it against his face, making him guess with a blindfold covering his eyes. 

He shut his eyes shaking his head energetically as he focused on driving, starting the car once he saw the car before him starting to move forward. 

You were laying with your head against the headrest, eyes closed, peaceful while he drove. 

He was the best driver in the universe and being in a car with him felt relaxing. You felt safe. Which is pretty rare to you while being in a car with anyone else. 

Once you reached the parking lot under his building, you opened you eyes, blinking a couple times. He bent to your forehead, placing a gentle kiss between your eyebrows. “We’re home, sweetie.” He whispered, unlatching your seatbelt.

“Already here?”

“You fell asleep for a bit.” He said, caressing your hair off your face and cupping your cheek. “Let’s head upstairs, Giggles.” He said, undoing his seatbelt and exiting the car. 

You laid one more second before opening your door, getting ready to exit just as he appeared before you, offering you his hand. 

You took it and climbed off his suv, shortly before he bent forward and took your bag, closing down the car. He placed his arm behind your back, around your waist, pulling you into his side as you stood in the lift. “Are you sleepy?” He asked, poking your cheek and smiling tenderly at you. 

You thought about it. Yes, you were a bit sleepy, especially after how he had used you in his studio, and the strong emotions that had possessed you there, however you could perceive his energy, like the humming, crackling sound of static, which made you impatient and oversensitive. You could almost hear his brain plotting and you felt at a few seconds away from snapping at him and tell him to do it already.

“Not that much.” You replied. 

You reached the front door and he unlocked it, walking in and taking off his sandals, placing your bag by the door, and extracting its content. 

Rope. Flogger. Riding crop. Tickler. More rope. Another bundle. How did you intend to use all that rope, he asked himself as he frowned, headed to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and put the rope on the box he kept under his side of the bed, resembling a small container to store away clothes but actually containing bundles and bundles of rope in different colours, and other smaller boxes. He looked specifically for one, extracting it and placing it over his bedside table. 

You didn’t speak as you saw him extract a small bag with toy cleanser and a rag, the other three toys laying at his side as he sat on the bed with his legs spread wide, holding the rag with his right hand and spraying the cleanser with the left one, putting the bottle down before he grabbed the flogger and started to wipe the damp fabric over the leather. 

You stood at the door, leaning against the doorjamb, staring at his hands as he used his left one to hold all the tails but one, which he caught with the rag and wiped clean. Moving it aside, he proceeded with another one, his strong and slender fingers stretching to keep the two groups separated. 

Those beautiful hands.

You walked closer, around the bed, climbing up behind him and placing your mouth against his neck. “Your hands are so pretty.” You whispered, staring at his digits skillfully handling the toy. 

He smiled. “You have mentioned liking them, a couple times.” He replied before chuckling. 

“Will I have them inside me again before tomorrow comes?” You asked, mouthing at his ear. 

He shrinked, trying to run away from the tickling touch of your tongue. “I thought I had already fed you, hungry little monster.” He said, finally done with the twelve tails and wiping the handle before he bent down to put the flogger into its longer box, wrapping the tails loosely around the handle.

“You were fucked out, almost into dreamland five minutes ago.” He commented, spraying some more cleanser and wiping the wet cloth over the riding crop. You parted your legs wide as you sat on your heels, trying to push your hips against his back for some friction. 

“That was five minutes ago.” You replied, your hands skimming down his arms and stopping at his wrists, wrapping around them. “Before I saw these.”

Hoseok had his hottest looks. When he was on stage rapping. When he was sweaty on top of you. When he grinned and licked his lip before biting it, with that specific cocky smirk after making you cum. When getting ready to wreck you. When getting his toys ready to wreck you. 

And the fact that he always double cleaned his toys — before and after use — created this sort of vicious circle where you couldn’t understand whether he was done with you or simply getting ready to start again. 

Your life was like a pendulum swinging to and fro between arousal and pleasure — to incorrectly quote Schopenhauer. And as much as he was your sweet boyfriend, taking you on picnics and covering you in gifts and letting you pet all the dogs you met on your walks, he was you greatest source of pain and pleasure, in the most addictive, perfect mix of the two. 

In this moment he embodied that, precisely. Because, no matter how spent you had been twenty minutes ago, you were once more ready and craving.

“Stop rubbing your sweet, soft pussy against me, little bird.” He murmured, placing down the crop in another box and placing the lid on it. 

“Please, master.” You called in your most tantalising voice. 

He cleaned the handle of the tickler, spraying some cleanser in the air before letting it fall over the feather, flicking it a couple time with strong snaps of his wrist. 

And that’s why you loved him with a flogger. 

He placed down the tickler in a third box, where laid another fancy stick culminating in a small rectangle of fur. 

You stretched your neck to stare at it longingly before he closed the lid and zipped the large box closed, placing the cleanser inside and throwing the cloth on the floor. 

“Go shower, little bird. You’re still messy from earlier and you need a nap.” He said, shortly before noticing your pout. “What is it?”

“I want your fingers. And the tickler. The furry one.” You said, lacing your fingers with his and feeling his strong knuckles.

He stood up and turned to face you, your arms getting tangled up together. He tugged at you, bringing you closer to the edge of the bed before freeing his arms, pushing your wrists together and grabbing your chin. 

“I said: go shower.” He chastised, his voice so, so serious.

You frowned at him. “What if I don’t?”

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, swatting at your mouth in scolding, but at the same time with infinite care. He wasn’t the type to hit someone’s face, even though in moments like this he really wanted to. 

You had never been a brat. Of course you had bratty moments, but he never had to discipline you like that. You are his sweet baby, his little bird, delicate and obeying. Why would you challenge him like that.

You turned your face away from him as he studied your warmongering stare. 

“Little bird. Go shower. I’ll join you in a bit.” He said, his eyes perusing your lineaments. 

You stood up and walked to the en suite bathroom, making sure that he was staring at you as you stood on the corridor and took off your clothes in quick, angry movements, your trousers coming off together with your panties, then loudly and indignantly you walked your way into the bathroom. 

Hoseok stared at your scene, quite ignoring what made you snap, but pretty sure about how to ease your temper. Quickly he re-opened the box and extracted two sets of manacles, studying his bed before realising how he could possibly fix that. 

Nodding at himself, he took out a smaller bundle of rope, starting a hook around two bars in the middle of the headboard. 

Staring at the layout, he changed his mind again, undoing the knot at the headboard and moving it down, at the feet of the bed, lifting the mattress and looping the rope around the bed stave closest to the corner of the mattress and placing the rope neatly on top of the bed, the two tails perfectly parallel to each other, without overlapping. 

He repeated the gesture on the other corner, meanwhile thinking about what knot he could possibly use to embellish your ankles. 

Next, he secured one band of each manacle set to the sturdy columns at each corner of the headboard, opening both loose bands and preparing them to welcome your wrists. 

Moving to your end of the bed, he searched for your box, finding it just behind the edge of the mattress. He lifted the lid and looked inside, observing the content with an eyebrow raised, face completely impassible. Spotting a familiar tool, he picked it up in his palm, trying to think of how he could use it. Giving up on the idea — a shower scene allowed poor lubrication — he considered another option. 

He chuckled to himself and looped his finger through a small ringlet, extracting a series of silver balls attached by a silicon string. “Hell, yes.” He murmured, closing the box, already savouring how sensitive you would be after having those inside you, and how incredibly responsive your cunt would be to his fingers once he pulled the spheres out of you. He fixed your box back in place, ready to reach you in the shower when he took a couple steps back, looking at his own box again, sucking at his lower lip. 

Fuck it. He bent down and found a smaller box, substituting the one on top of his bedside table and placing his furred riding crop in a handy position, but at the same time out of your sight. Laying it on the small bench at the feet of the bed, he placed the pillows on top, baring the bed and making sure that the mattress was covered in waterproof bedding, just in case. 

Satisfied with the layout, he took off his sweater and jeans, collecting your clothes too and leaving all of those in the small chest with the dirty laundry. 

Now he was ready to follow your furious warpath. 

Standing at the door in the bathroom, he stared at you, your eyes closed as you rinsed your shampoo out of your hair, all the suds rolling gently down your body. 

You looked majestic. And so gracious. 

He toyed with the metal spheres in his hand, rattling them a little to signal his arrival. 

You spotted him and turned away. 

Took you long enough, you thought, ignoring his presence. And next thing your knew, his right hand appeared at your waist, sliding down to your belly button. 

“Do you want me?” He asked, pressing his mouth below your ear, his hips getting closer to you.

You were still feeling a bit petty. But also very horny. 

He simply hugged your back to his front, waiting for your approval before touching you between your legs, his fingers tiptoeing around the imaginary line connecting one hipcrest to the other. 

“Do you want me, though?” You asked tensely. 

He kissed down the muscle of your neck, moving toward your collarbone. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry I’m so angsty.” You said, turning around and hiding into his slim chest. 

“It’s okay, little bird.” He said, relieved that his loving girl was back. “I woke you from your nap in the car. You’ve had a stressful week and I was away.” He ran his free hand down your spine, caressing it with the very tips of his fingers. “You were needy and I bet you didn’t even have the time to take care of yourself.” He bent down to your ear. “And if I’m not mistaken it’s been two weeks since you last had your period.” He tutted and cooed as he drew his nose down your sensitive neck. “You must be so needy.”

You felt like collapsing. It was so good to be his. “I love you.” You replied, appreciating all those small considerations he was making, trying to understand you. 

“I love you too, Giggles.” He said, joining your lips chastely, placing butterfly kisses over your lower lip, his brow furrowing as you gave small kisses in return. “Giggles.” He murmured on your mouth, his breath hot on your lips. 

“Hobi.” You murmured back. 

“Want your lips.” He said, his hand climbing up and sliding into your hair, blocking your head and trapping your lower lip between his teeth. 

You moaned as he started sucking, his teeth dragging sublimely against the tender skin of your mouth.

“I’m not putting my hand between your legs unless you tell me to.” He said, letting go of your sensitive flesh. 

“Please, do.” You murmured, trying to rub yourself against him, offering some pleasure too once your belly pressed against his length. 

“I want your consent, little bird.” He clarified, his hand drawing innocent patterns at the middle of your back. 

“You have it.” You answered, your hand stretching across his asscheek, trying to draw him closer. 

“I have these, if you’re interested.” He said, removing his arm dangling from your shoulder and laying along your back, opening his fist and showing you the ben-wa balls. 

“Yes.” You said, opening your mouth wide and rolling your tongue out, waiting for him to place the toy inside for you to lubricate it. 

He grinned, proud. “Perfect.” And like that, the spheres were in your mouth, the small ring still hooked to his finger as he pulled the string out, your lips loose against the toy to avoid removing the drool covering them. 

Once every ball was out, you turned and bent over. 

“Smart girl.” He praised you rubbing your ass with one hand while the other pushed the first ball in. Then the second. 

“Master, please.”

“I’m here, little bird. Only three missing, my love.” He reassured you while you felt the cool metal roll against your hot walls. “There. Another one. I’ll make you feel so good, my little dove.” His left hand slid to your front, between your breasts, until it landed on your face, curling around your jaw. “You can take it, baby. Only two left.”

You felt heavy and full, your inner walls clenching, tightening to sustain the weight of the spheres. Another ball slid in, wider than the one before, and smaller than the next. 

“There you go, Giggles. You’re gonna be so tight after this. So sensitive.” He thought out loud. 

“Only for you, master.” You moaned as you felt his fingers accommodate the last sphere, your inner muscles locking into a tight grip. 

“Such a good girl you are. Can you stand up already, dove?” He asked, wrapping his arm one around your chest, and one around your waist. 

“Yes, master.” You replied obediently as he helped you raise your torso, your eyes closing as you felt the toy move around and settle inside you as you reached your new position. 

He cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. “Excellent, little bird.” He rewarded you. “Have you already washed yourself?” He asked.

You nodded. 

“Sorry I took so long to arrive.” He said. He was usually the one washing you when you showered together. “Guess you’ll have to turn around, then.” He announced, stretching to reach his body-wash, pouring some in his hands and foaming it up, rubbing it against his front while you turned and looked at him from over your shoulder. 

“Curious, little bird?” He asked you, smirking and smiling devilishly. 

You bit your lip and nodded shyly. 

He moved forward  so that his cock rested between your asscheeks and thrusted against you tentatively, frowning once after two strokes he already felt too much friction. 

“Stay there.” He said, exiting the shower and looking into the cabinet, immediately spotting his target, deciding on taking it with him in the shower. 

“Here or the floor?” He asked once you made eye contact. 

You considered your options, throwing a towel on the floor and kneeling down on it, crossing your arms under your head to pillow it. “Here.” You said, looking at him standing tall over you. 

“Oh, Giggles.” He said, chuckling. “You’re adorable.”

He moved behind you, your gaze focused on the floor as you heard him close the tap to the shower. 

“I’m kneeling behind you, little bird.” He described exactly how he was moving, so that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by the situation. “I’m going to cover your cute little bum in massage oil, pretty thing.” He said. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, master.” You replied, staying perfectly still even as you felt the first drop of oil fall on your left ass cheek. 

“I know it’s cold, ____. It’ll be warm soon, I promise.” He said, pouring some more on the other side. 

The sweet scent of almonds filled the room, intensified by the steam still coming out of the shower. 

You felt the sound of the bottle connecting with the floor. 

“Here. Let’s make it warm.” He said, placing his hands on your ass and beginning to spread the oil. “Does it feel good, little bird?” He murmured, cackling as you squirmed once his thumbs pressed your labia close together, blood filling the soft, plump tissue, already aroused by the movements of the spheres inside you. 

“Yes, master. It feels good, master.” You replied obediently, already pushing your crotch towards his hands. Next he pushed his thumbs from your labia to the skin just behind your hole, the ben-wa balls moving slightly as he pressed from the outside, drawing small circles around the sensitive skin of your entrance, looking as your nectar oozed out from your slick hole once he pulled your labia apart, bending down to lick at your arousal. 

You moaned his name slowly, the final ‘k’ getting lost as your breath stumbled a few times in your lungs, drawing in a series of quick, shallow gasps before releasing a low exhale through your puckered lips. 

“You’ve been eating fruit, mh?” He asked, noticing the exceptional sweetness of your juices.

“I like fruit.” You replied, trying to sound as coherent as possible. 

Still, he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive crotch while the tip of his tongue tapped against your clit a couple times. 

“Master.” You called with a shrill whimper. 

He removed his face from between your thighs.

“Yes, little bird?” He replied, standing on his knees behind you. 

“Please, use me for your pleasure, master.” You begged, trying to push your butt against his hard on. 

His hands kept spreading the oil on your behind, exploring every curve, feeling the soft texture of your flesh. “That’s very generous of you, ____. What do you think if we help each other with this? I could lend you a hand and you let me cum all over your sweet peach here.” He suggested. 

“Please do. I want you to cum on me.” You said, turning to look at him, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth while his eyelids hung low, looking at your face. 

“I won’t make you wait then.” He said, bending over you, his mouth immediately connecting with the small crevasse between your shoulderblades. 

His hips slid against your skin easily this time, the feeling his palms squishing your asscheeks together as he thrusted back and forth, moaning and panting so close to your ear. His movements ricocheted inside you just as his palm slid forward, pressing against your belly in a kneading motion that made the spheres shift endlessly inside you. 

“Oh, god.” You gasped, just as he changed direction, the tip of his middle finger reaching your hole, massaging the ring of muscles there before sliding down to your clit, drawing a few teasing circles before his palm moved back to the kneading motion aimed straight at the inner muscles of your vagina, the balls shifting against your g-spot with a pressure too gentle to resemble Hoseok’s attentive fingertips when he made you gush your release all over his hand. 

“I’m close,” he said, his pace quickening, his target changing as he separated his hips from yours and bent his cock downwards, toward your belly. Using his left hand for leverage, he placed it on the carpet, his right hand covering his tip as he started chasing his pleasure with wicked strokes against your belly, his front parting from your spine as his hand pushed your lower back down, making you arch almost painfully while his pelvis hit your labia at every thurst, his length teased your clit and his tip poked your belly, making the spheres move, his hand pressing his erection to your skin and helping him reach his climax. 

And it gloriously arrived, silent at first, and then exploding in a loud groan, as two and then free spurts hit your chest and your stomach messily. 

You were close, so close, but your pleasure felt miles away, like your edge was nothing but an immense plain preceded by a steep but brief climb. 

“Master, I’m not—” 

He blinked a couple times as his high receded, his ears tuning in on the lack of noise, on you not crying his name, moaning and whining and whimpering with pleasure.

“Giggles?” He called, letting go of his softening cock. 

“Please, master.” You repeated. 

“Aren’t you done yet?” He asked kindly. “Do you still need me, love?”

“Wanna cum, please.” You wailed, trying to grind against any surface connecting with your pelvis. His palm used the oil left on his skin and the cum he had spilled on your navel to massage your belly, his other hand getting to work on your clit, your high becoming more and more real as you murmured on and on ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘there’. 

“It’s okay, little bird. Let go.” He said, needing to bend to your ear and kiss you but deciding upon not messing up the angle now that you were close. 

Your breath started coming out in messy hiccups. “Hobi, I— Please, it’s— Uh!”

He took in every small sign he could get as you rode his fingers, completely silent in your climax, even your breathing stopping completely while you focused on the mind-blowing feeling of the balls massaging your inner walls as they rolled inside you at every contraction of your muscles. 

“There she is.” He called, diminishing his ministration, reducing the pressure of each touch until you opened your eyes and looked for his feverishly. “I’m here, love.” He helped your hips down, turning you around on the big towel and hovering on top of you warmly, fussing over you. “Are you okay, my precious dove?”

He longed to touch your face but his hands were messy and he limited himself to tender kisses to your face. 

“Yes, I’m okay. It was just very intense.” You replied, closing your eyes. 

“Quick, back in the shower, love. I have plans for us.” He said, raising himself of his knees before standing up. You followed him in slow motion, walking to the shower and closing your eyes as he rinsed his cum and the almond oil from your body. 

“Are you sleepy now, my dove?” He asked, rubbing your booty and hugging you in the process.

“No. I want you.” You said, kissing his lips, nibbling at the thick vein of his neck. 

“It’s your what… Third orgasm?”

You frowned and nodded. “I think so?”

“Okay. Let’s move to the bedroom.” He said, “You gave a special request, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head and he smiled beautifully, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I love you.” You murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

With a fresh towel he dried you and then quickly dabbed at his own skin, leaving the bathroom messy, but knowing that he would come back once you were asleep. 

“Go on.” He said, motioning at the door with his chin, directing you. 

He walked behind you as you reached the bedroom and stood before the bed. 

“I wanna tie you up. Play with you.” He said, skimming your sides with his fingertips. “If you’re interested.”

“Front or back?” You asked, figuring out how he wanted you to lay down. 

“On your back.” He replied.

“Is the fur crop in the game?” You asked, observing the scene. 

“Maybe.” He replied. 

“That’d better be a yes.” You replied, climbing the bed. 

“Rope and manacles?” Your asked, studying the layout. 

“Yes. Manacles for wrists. Rope for feet, so you can hide those better. Or I could wrap something around your skin so it doesn’t chafe—”

“No need. A loose triple column should be enough. Hopefully I won’t tug.” You said, laying down and taking rough measurements of your placement. “I don’t think I’ll need a wrap.”

“Are you sure? We can bandage, you know it.” Hoseok sat at the corner of the bed, catching your ankle and making you bend your knee slightly before placing a kiss to your leg. 

“I’m good.” You said. 

“You will be tied up at the bed, wrist and ankles. I will tease you slightly first. I want you to relax. Once you’re all loose and soft, we’ll see where this will take us, yes?” He kept things vague, so to avoid ruining the anticipation, but also to keep you from feeling pressured into any procedure. “Do you agree with being tied up and undergoing sensation play?” he asked formally. 

“I agree, master.” Etiquette is important. Formality gives importance to what you’re about to do. It makes you feel how dangerous it can be the moment you forget safety and responsibility. 

“Which are your safewords, ____?”

“Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.” You replied, looking at him. 

“Excellent. I’ll start with your left ankle, little bird.” He adjusted your legs, bending your knees about twenty centimetres off the bed, leaving a meter between your feet. 

You stayed perfectly still as he caressed your foot and placed two fingers against your skin, beginning to loop the double rope around your leg and his fingers, without dragging it against your skin, but rather letting it caress it softly. Next he neatly hooked both tails under the loops on your ankle, bringing them up and tying them in a knot, tugging at it. The loops tightened slightly, but from the inside he wiggled his fingers, making sure that there was some extra space and that the knot could slide and give more rope, in case it got too tight. He set it a bit loose, not worrying about it slipping it off since the heel of your foot would block it. 

He repeated the procedure on the other side, your legs secured to the bed. 

You stared at his skilled fingers looping the rope tidily and precisely, knowing how order and cleanliness could help the moment he needed to undo those. 

Next, he crawled up, towards your hips, straddling them. 

He was already hard again. 

You stared at his sleek, long shaft, how well it matched his lithe, sinewy body, how pretty it looked with the slight upward curve. So perfectly pink, matching his glossy lips and the tip the precise colour of his tongue. 

He strapped in your left wrist without you even realising. “I see you’re distracted,” he commented, moving to your other wrist. He hooked one finger in the cuff before tightening it, making sure that even your wrist had enough space for wiggling and tugging without you getting hurt. 

“Are you safe, little bird?” He checked on you, intertwining your fingers and placing a kiss on your forehead. 

You rolled your ankles a few times, next your wrists, then wiggled your fingers. “Yes, master.” You replied obediently. 

“Let’s put our scissors here,” He said, standing up and moving his bedside table closer to the feet of the bed, where he could possibly need to quickly cut the rope. After that, he extracted the safety scissors from the drawer in his bedside table and placed them on the table.

“Tonight I received a special request.” He said, completely comfortable in circling the bed naked, your eyes locked with his as he kept walking around, from side to side, like a predator, making anticipation grow, making you squirm and get worked up, waiting for him to pounce. 

“My little bird said she was interested with a special toy. For special occasions.” He said, standing at the feet of the bed. 

As he stared at your slit, you had the sudden realisation that the ben-wa balls were still located in your womb, the squeezing of your kegels heightening your awareness.

“And isn’t it a special occasion.” He leaned against the mattress, your neck straining as you stared at him, his eyebrows low on his dark, minaciously sensual gaze, his wet hair shading his ebony irises. “I’ll fuck you in our house. For the first time. On our bed.” He clicked his tongue a couple times. “Not like I didn’t fuck you in this bed before.” He chuckled. “I’ve fucked you plenty.” He smirked, and lounged for your calf, playfully biting it before running away, just in time to make you squirm and contract your inner muscles, making a moan bloom on your lips. “It’s just that it was my bed before. My house. And now it’s ours.”

He dug his hand under the pillows, extracting a stick from beneath the white beddings. A riding crop. 

The riding crop. Your eyes zeroed in on the furred tip. And on the leather counterpart. 

“It’s your friend, little bird.” He said, caressing his palm with the soft side. “Would you like to remind me how it works?” He asked. 

“Yes, master.” You looked at him as he sat at the free space at your side, between your extended arm and your side. “The toy has a double tip. One is made of fur. The other is made of leather. The furred part caresses, the leather part slaps. Master.” You added, for good measure. 

He touched your face. “Exactly, little bird. So, shall we celebrate?” He asked, suddenly feeling that his nakedness was jeopardising his power, taking a few steps to the chair in the corner of the room and wearing a loose silken robe, tying it around his waist with a lovely bow. 

You were fully mesmerised as once more he started circling the bed. His first target was your ribcage, where he dragged the gentle tip against your skin, making you squirm and arch away from the tickling sensation. 

“Ticklish, little bird?”

Bastard. He knew you were ticklish as hell. “A little, master.” You replied, your breath hitching as a small, helpless smile appeared on your face, as he toyed with your nipples.

He cocked his head to the side and smirked as he rubbed your nipples, stealing a small squeal from your lips. 

“Just a little?” He asked again, moving to the other side. 

“A bit more than a little, master.” You conceded, curving your torso out of reach. 

He snorted out a laugh, arching an eyebrow and stretching his lips in a thin line as he sucked them between his teeth. 

“Shall we test how much?” He asked, drawing a winding pattern on your belly, spiraling around your belly button. Your abs twitched uncomfortably as you squeaked with a hiccup, your quadriceps suddenly flexing with an involuntary reflex. And of course the spheres moved. Again. Hoseok spotted the precise moment your kegels engaged. 

“Are those little balls inside you making you feel funny, little bird?” He asked, the tip of the riding crop travelling up, toward your neck, making your body toss as you tried to escape the sweet torture. 

“Answer me, little bird.” He scolded you. 

“I— God!” You shouted as he quickly took the crop away and slapped the leather bit against your nipple.

“It’s Hoseok or Master. No god can save you, princess.” He looked at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes. 

You closed your eyes as you felt the heaviest sphere lay against your cervix. It was impressive that after half an hour you had such awareness of similar details. All the sex and the arousal and his lovingly wicked tortures will kill you someday.

“How is your tight, sweet pussy feeling, little bird? I won’t ask again.” He asked commandingly.

“It’s sensitive.” You replied. “They move and my walls move and they move some more.”

“That’s how I want you, ____. Sensitive. I want you to drench the sheets in sweat and then in cum, my darling girl.” He said, walking toward the feet of the bed and flicking the furred tip behind your knee, your leg flexing, trying to protect the weak spot by sticking it to the sheets. 

He cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head in surprise. “Oh, not there?” He said. You didn’t realise you had just uncovered an even weaker spot. The crop moved like lightning, immediately reaching the sole of your foot and skimming the arch of it. 

“Hoseok! No! Please! No!” You started tugging at the ropes, pressing the plant of your foot to the mattress but exposing the back of your knee in the process. 

Giggles bubbled out of your mouth as your brow creased in discomfort, struggling at Hoseok’s game as he dashed from one spot to the other while you wiggled and tried to protect both, miserably failing. His eyes were trained on your leg, like a cat toying with a led light; he kept chasing your weak spot as it appeared on your toes then disappeared, suddenly surfacing at your thigh, only to disappear again and travel back and forth. And as you kept wiggling, fighting, tossing and turning, he expanded his battlefield on the other leg too, giving you no rest nor reprieve. 

“Master, please!” A laugh broke your plea. “I’m sorry, master. Please I— Ah! I’ll— I’ll— No!” Another fit of giggles echoed through your abs, making you even wetter, your arousal sliding uncomfortably along your slit, back between your thighs and asscheeks. “I’ll behave— No! Please, I’m sorry— Stop!”

You tugged at your wrists, more laughs coming to your mouth and completely stealing any oxygen left in your lungs. 

You were breathless. 

“You know your words, little bird.” He said, seriously at your feet. 

“Master!” You called in a weak prayer, barely a whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks, not knowing whether they were from the laughter or the helplessness.

“Your words, ____.” He said, still slowing down as he realised you were refusing to fight anymore. 

“Master.” You cried out, lip wobbling.

He placed the riding crop at the feet of the bed, his body curling up in a tight ball as he sat on his heels and ran two fingers under each of the knots at your ankles, making sure that they loosened. But not undoing them yet. 

“I’ll let you catch you breath, love.” He said, taking hold of the crop once more. After all, you hadn’t used your safeword. That means he can go on. 

He skimmed it down his own chest, a pleasurable shiver coursing down his spine. 

Next he turned his head, left and right, the movement resulting in a thick popping sound. 

He walked close to your face, his lips forming a downward curve as he spotted your tears. 

Gently he dried them with the furred tip, cooing at you. 

“Poor little bird. Master made you cry?” He asked, touching your face with the toy. 

You only nodded in return. He placed the softer bit against your mouth. “Come on, kiss and make up.” He said, staring at the small gesture. 

First domination lesson: if your sub doesn’t kiss or lick anything you put before their mouth, then you haven’t trained them well. 

Your lips puckered and disclosed with a small click of your lips. 

“Good girl, Giggles. Very good.” He praised you. 

He turned the toy around, offering you the other tip. 

You looked him in the eye. 

“You need to forgive it in advance, little bird.” He said, cocking an eyebrow and licking his lips. He was breathing heavily through his mouth, which had made his lips dry up too fast. 

You gave it a kittenish lick before delivering a silent peck on it. 

“Good, good girl, ____. Resist a little more for master.” He said, walking again to the feet of the bed. “Hold tight.” He announced before the crop snapped forward, hitting you straight on your swollen labia with unspeakable strength. 

Your whole body jerked in the aftermath, trying to curl up in defense. 

“Oh, Giggles. Did it hurt?” He asked, actual compassion in his voice. 

“The spheres.” You said, your face twitching with the incredible pressure rushing through your whole body. 

“I want one last thing.” He said, delivering light pats to your clit. “Just one.”

And just like that the riding crop twisted once more, going back to the furred head and beginning to dart between your thighs. 

Again you tugged at the ropes, hoping they would allow you to close your legs. In vain. 

The more you tugged, the more you realised you were completely at his mercy, laughters erupting from your lips in an open mouthed expression, your brow and nose scrunched up in helplessness. “No!” You shrieked, your face hiding against your arm as the fleeting touch of the crop brought new tears to your eyes and new giggles to your mouth. 

“Master! Mercy! Please! I’m— Hos— Hobi! No! I’m— I’m a good girl...” You pleaded desperately. “I’m a good—” You spoke weakly. “Yellow.” You called, sobbing in earnest now that you felt afraid and frustrated, the spheres inside you something too difficult to handle for your tired and sensitive body. 

Hoseok was trained on hearing your safewords. You had spent hours training with ropes and reflexes and responses. He had spent a whole night sitting on a chair, telling you to talk about your day and randomly insert your safewords in the conversation, jumping up each time you spoke one, then sitting again and tuning his ears to your small talk, ready to jump up at the next. 

Therefore, when he heard your whispered ‘yellow’, he immediately stood up and threw the crop to the floor, out of the way, sliding his fingers under one of his knots and tugging at it composedly, watching as the loops loosened and slipped past your heel, off your foot. He moved to the next leg, this time acting even faster. 

“The spheres. Yellow.” You sobbed again. 

“I’m here, ____. I’m here for you, Giggles. You called your yellow, baby, I’m taking them out.” He explained, kneeling between your legs and tugging at the ring, the first coming out quickly, coated in your wetness; same for the next. The last three were almost imperceptible. 

“There you go, Giggles.” He laid on top of you, keeping his weight from your body by propping himself up on his elbows. “Baby.”

“I’m so sensitive.” You cried out. “Please. Make it good.” You begged, eyes watering again. 

“No, no, no, baby bird. Look at me.” He called, catching your chin between his index and thumb. “I’ll make it good. So good, love.” He murmured, feeding you small kisses. “So, so good, my tiny, precious Giggles. Do you trust master?” He asked, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your cheekbone. 

You nodded. 

“Then we’ll use this.” He said, sitting up and stretching to the bedside table, opening the small box he had placed there. He dove his finger in, fishing out a small rubber ring with a thick bullet attached. He brought it close to your eyes. You stared, mesmerised before nodding furiously. “But on a low setting. I’m very, very sensitive right now.” You said, worried. 

“Of course, baby.” He said, quickly taking off his robe, parting his legs and biting his lower lip as he slipped the tight rubber cockring around his shaft and down to his base. 

“Do you need your wrists free, dove?” He asked you, with an affectionate caress to your outer thigh. 

“I can keep them.” You said, determined. 

He spread your legs further. 

“I’m gonna slide in, _____. Can I?” He asked. 

“Yes, master.” You said, reassuring him yourself, stretching to watch him penetrate you. 

The moment his tip rested inside you, you mewled in relief, the burning sensation barely there as he slid out, staring at the head of his cock coated in your thick, creamy arousal. 

“You’re so good in here, love.” He said, sliding in again and bottoming out in one smooth thrust. 

Your mouth stayed open as you finally felt the fullness of his sex fill your inner walls, brushing them in a way the spheres couldn’t, with their rolling and their complete lack of stiffness in length. 

“Switch it on, please, master!” You begged with your most gentle voice, trying to conceal your command.

He obeyed you nonetheless. He wanted nothing but to see you spent on the sheets, with a beatific smile, clinging to him as sleep caught you in its motherly arms. 

He pushed the small button controlling the bullet, even the lowest setting affecting him as the vibrations ricocheted to his balls, the tightness of the rubber postponing his release. 

You reached your high in minutes as he slid discreetly, slowly, lazily in and out of you, focusing on a calm, steady pattern that could allow him to touch your face and caress your hair away from your forehead, to rub your lower lip with his thumb and place soft pecks on your temples and cheeks and jaw. 

Your high welcomed you with open arms, like a dive from a cliff in the Mediterranean, the soothing blue embracing your body and cradling it, filling you with the energy of that calm, marine giant until you emerged again, drifting on the flat surface of the water, the sun warming your face, creating a complete sense of balance and peace with the fresh, cool sensation at your back. 

Once Hoseok saw your eyes flutter open, he smiled, still driving his hips into you with tiny, controlled movements that he rarely offered you, and that fit the missionary position you were in. 

He looked at you expectantly. You waited a couple more seconds before you noticed his hips faltering, one of your eyebrows arching. “Please.” He moaned. 

You waited another couple seconds, watching his brow furrow, his lips pucker, his jaw clench before his mouth opened. “Please.” He repeated. 

“Fuck me up.” You said, with saccharine voice. 

A millisecond later, he was kneeling, your legs joined together and thrown over his shoulder, your ass hanging midair as he hammered into you with a speed you didn’t deem human. 

“So sweet. Tight. Fuck!” He growled, moaning, his voice getting higher and higher in pitch until you felt him snap, his hips buckling forward. 

And as his high bloomed you felt yours grow again, the reckless drive of his hips making your own pelvis undulate to meet his ruthless thrusts. 

“Another?” He asked, his cock still painfully hard as he twisted the ring around and made sure that the bullet would meet your clit as he threw both your legs on the bed, your body rolling on your side while he picked up your knee and bent it to your chest. He adjusted the ring and once he felt your chirping whimpers intensify, he left it in place, hammering into you like a man possessed. 

“Yes, Hoseok, yes! Keep going—” You spurred him on. “I love you so much, Hobi, I swear, please, if you— Yes!”

You both came undone, your body exploding like fireworks, your wetness pouring out of you endlessly, while he kept pushing, like he was trying to penetrate into the very soul of you.

And then he let your leg go, making your body roll back into the mattress, sliding forward and stretching his legs from underneath his body, his fingers fumbling with the vibrator and switching it off before laying on top of you, this time letting his weight fall on your body. 

“Sex so good.” Hoseok murmured. “Never had it in my whole life.” He murmured, mouthing at your chest innocently, looking for reassurance and tenderness and cuddles. 

“Hoseok, baby, I need you to undo the cuffs, love.” You said with a sheepish smile. 

“Sure.” He said, suddenly awakening and stretching to reach the left cuff, then the right, unlatching them in record time. 

Another part of his training. 

Kneeling between your legs once more, he stared at you and rose to his knees, towering over you. With gritted teeth he started slipping off the cockring, more of his semen pouring out in small drops now that the tight rubber band was milking him of what he had left. You stared at the scene, at the focused, strained lines of his face, at the way his hair, now almost dry in soft little waves, eclipsed his gaze entirely.

He stared at your mound marked in his seed, before meeting your eyes captivated by the vision. 

“I claimed my girl. In our house.”

“Way to christen the new flatmate.” You giggled as he laid down and nuzzled against you, not even worried about his cum staining him too. 

“It’s our home.”

You nodded and caressed his hair. “Welcome home, love.” You said, happy that you could finally speak the words you’ve been dying to say since you had moved in. 

“Welcome home.” He repeated, kissing your heart and closing his eyes, waiting for you to fall asleep before he stood up and fixed the mess the two of you had made.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s Exorcism Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Note: This date was translated by @redqueenschoice! It’s on my blog because she doesn’t want to put individual translations on hers...

Shaw’s Qixi Collection: Date ♡ / Call 1 / Call 2 / Event / Special Call

Check out Victor’s date (by @lucienism) and Kiro’s date (by @skyholders​) too! A lot of effort has been put in by these three lovely humans T^T💕 Do send them lots of love!!

On the night of Qixi, I had a terrible encounter and happened to be saved by Shaw. In order to repay the favour afterwards, I promised to run errands for him for seven days. Very soon, the seven days are coming to an end…

~

The crescent moon reminiscent of a bow hangs in the sky, the canopy of the heavens are painted pitch black. The little starlight that filters through the dense canopy of the forest scatters, and a line of men make their way through the mountain’s forest in a hurry, the swords on their waists still red with fresh blood.

A drop of blood falls onto the surface of a leaf, before it is trodden underfoot all of a sudden.

MC: Ahh…

Bandit Leader: Tell me the truth!

My head was harshly hit, and I let out a weak, muffled cry through the cloth stuffed in my mouth.

The image of my family’s pitiful state right before the moments of their deaths surface in my mind again, and my throat tightens, both my heart and mind unable to move on from the tumultuous upheaval in my life.

It was only supposed to be a trip to the neighbouring village to visit some relatives. How had it come to this?

Bandit Leader: The ones we’ve gone after the last few days weren’t lacking in anything, huh? Hiding so many goods…

Bandit Underling: That’s right. Especially this young girl here, she’s still young and healthy.

Bandit Underling One: Boss, before we sell her off, how about we… ehehe.

Upon hearing his perverted words and laughter, I start thrashing about in a panic, but the ropes wound tightly around my wrists and ankles just won’t budge no matter how hard I pull. Tears stain the blindfold over my eyes and I stretch my hands towards my waist, getting ready to put up a fight with everything I have - I’d rather die than be disgraced in such a way.

At this moment, however, he is interrupted by another low voice.

Bandit Underling Two: That’s enough. You can make merry anytime you like, but in this instance, it’s better for us to hurry and get on our way. I heard these woods aren’t to be trusted at night, and there are rumours that monsters come out at night.

Bandit Underling One: Big Brother, aren’t you a little too believing of these old folk tales? Where on earth would there be demons, and even if there were, I’m not scared of them!

Note from Red: and here, ladies and gentlemen, is the beginning to every horror movie ever

A cocky laugh leaves his lips, but the second he does, the surroundings in all four directions abruptly fall silent.

All of a sudden, a long, piercing cry rips the still night in two.

The sound is delightful to the ears, yet it is striking enough to tear through the haze - upon hearing it once, it would be irreversibly carved into one’s heart.

I only feel my body sway for a moment, but in the blink of an eye, I find myself shoved down onto the ground. The second my shoulder collides with the wet, slippery dirt, I hear the bandits’ terrified shouts flying to and fro above my head.

Bandits: Mon… Monster!!!

The snarl of a predator beast, the metallic hiss of a blade being unsheathed, frantic and hurried footsteps… followed by bloodcurdling screams.

The chaos and what I experienced a few hours ago are far too similar, the same sounds echoing inside my head until they slowly fade away to nothing.

I cannot see anything in front of me, and can only smell the faint scent of blood mixed with that of the cool forest suffusing my nose.

At this moment, footsteps gradually approach me.

I hold my breath, and feel cold sweat slowly trickling down my back.

Who is it? Did one of the bandits survive?

Or is it… the monster?

The owner of those footsteps stop before me, and a strong hand pulls me up from the ground.

The person lifts up my bangs and a fingertip meets my forehead, the ice cold sensation making me shiver.

Mystery Man: Hah.

He seems to have no intention of loosening my bindings, a peculiar silence filling the space between me and the nameless man before me. With the blindfold over my eyes, my senses of hearing and touch are my only links with the external world.

His breathing is very light, but with each exhale that leaves his mouth, I sense undeniable danger in the air. I can feel his gaze, like that of a wild predator surveying its prey, as if he would sink his fangs into me in the next second.

MC: Mmn!

Terrified, I duck my head away from him, trying to avoid his touch. Instead, I hear a short laugh coming from the person in front of me.

Mystery Man: Fine. Since you don’t want me to save you, just wait here on your own, then.

With these words, the heated breaths across my cheeks vanish and the man seems to disappear into thin air, leaving no trace. My surroundings are completely silent once again.

He left?

I don’t dare to confirm it myself, waiting where he left me for a moment. Once the sound of birds and chirping of crickets returns to the area, I let out a breath of relief and begin to move once again.

Since I was under constant scrutiny of the bandits, I didn’t dare to do this earlier. Now that there’s no one in the vicinity, I can finally reach for the small knife I had secretly strapped to my waist.

This is the last thing my parents, who died earlier this year, left me to defend myself with.

I carefully feel around for the handle of the blade, wrapping my fingers around it. Because I can’t see and my movements are restricted, the tip of the blade ends up nicking my skin a few times. Gritting my teeth, I bear the pain and work on severing my bindings.

Note from Red: guys this is the mc we need but don’t deserve-

When I finally pull off the blindfold around my eyes, I see that the moon has already moved considerably towards the west.

Apart from the goods the bandits had been carrying with them earlier, I don’t see anyone else when I glance about.

MC: Did those people… really get eaten?

At the thought of the danger I experienced earlier, and might still be in, I couldn’t care less about the injuries littering my body, and force myself to my feet with the support of a tree branch, preparing to leave the forest as fast as I can.

The mountain paths are confusing and complicated, and I feel like I’ve been wandering around in circles for awhile when I finally hear the sound of running water coming from nearby.

MC: That’s great! If there’s water, that means I can clean my wounds!

I hobble towards the source of the sound slowly, but just as I’m pushing through the underbrush, a sound suddenly rings out through the air, causing me to freeze where I stand in fear.

Mystery Man: Don’t panic, everyone has a share.

It’s the voice of that man from earlier!

Before I can react, there’s the sound of flapping wings in the distance, taking my attention with it. Several strangely shaped skeletal birds flap over, and from their shrill, clamorous cries, it sounds as if they’re begging for food from someone.

I turn my head, only to see a young man casually lounging in a rowboat on the surface of a pool, next to a grove of trees. In his hand is a bunch of evening primroses. Under the light of the night sky, their petals give off a gentle glow.

The young man’s long legs are crossed, golden eyes half narrowed lazily as he looks at me. His expression is leisurely and indolent, and I see the petal of an evening primrose held casually between his teeth.

If I hadn’t encountered him in such an unusual circumstance, in the depths of a mountain forest, perhaps I would have thought he was the pampered young master of a rich merchant or businessman.

Mystery Man: Oh, that sentence wasn’t quite right. It should have been ‘every bird has a share’.

As if the skeletal birds can understand what he’s saying, they let out noisy chirps before obediently taking the petals from his hand one by one. The second the petals leave his palm, they dissolve into puffs of black smoke being swallowed up instantly by the skeletal birds.

Mystery Man: Today’s haul wasn’t too bad, there’s so much evil energy about, there’s enough for all of you to gorge yourselves on for a long time…

Mystery Man: Oi, you little idiot at the back, I caught you! Be a bit more honest, you’re not allowed to cut the queue…

Skeletal Bird: Squawk squawk?

Mystery Man: What did you say? Why didn’t I swallow up that little lady from earlier?

Mystery Man: Come on, do I really seem like a scoundrel who doesn’t take proper care of women… yeah, I am.

Trivia from Red: The word ‘scoundrel’ was translated from is the negative of a Chinese idiom 怜香惜玉, meaning a gentleman who takes care of the fairer sex. Shaw referred to himself as someone unlike a gentleman, so that’s how I translated it.

Skeletal Bird: Squawk!

Mystery Man: [clicks his tongue] I was just playing around a little. After I feed the lot of you, I’ll go back and save her, is that cool with you?

At hearing his words, I secretly make a face in his direction, muttering under my breath.

MC: I didn’t need you to save me… I got out on my own...

A skeletal bird suddenly caws in my direction. The young man’s eyes narrow instantly, the light in his eyes intensifying to something swift and fierce, before he turns his gaze right in my direction.

Mystery Man: Whoever’s there, come out.

I’ve been found out!

Note from Red: She, in fact, had been found out.

I subconsciously take a step back, but all of a sudden, the injury on my leg flares up with immense pain. My body loses balance all at once, and I find myself pitching backwards before I know what’s happening.

MC: Ah!

Note from Red: MC then proceeds to black out in typical otome heroine fashion… but let’s cut her some slack she was cool here T^T

I drift in the darkness, countless strange dreams blending together and surfacing before my eyes. One moment it’s the leering grin of the bandits, the next it’s the cawing of the skeletal birds I saw earlier. But the final thing is the long, piercing cry I heard in the forest.

When my eyes blink open, I find myself in an unfamiliar room.

It’s a perfectly normal looking bedroom, and the sheets under me are fresh and clean. Somewhere, I can hear the sounds of a vendor selling his goods and the voices of kids peddling flowers drifting in from outside the window.

Everything is so peaceful, it’s as if everything I experienced before has just been nothing but a dream.

MC: Where exactly am I…

Mystery Man: You finally decided to wake up.

A young man dressed in purple appears at the door in the blink of an eye. Startled, I sit up as fast as possible in shock.

MC: Who are you!?

At my question, he leans against the doorframe casually, and after seeing my expression, the corner of his lips turn up in a smirk.

Mystery Man: What are you being so on edge for? I’m the benefactor who saved your life, you know.

MC: What benefactor, I clearly saw you on that lake earlier…

Mystery Man: You’ve had some entertaining dreams.

Note from Red: o k a y shaw

MC: Huh?

Mystery Man: You, little lady, fainted in the wilderness in the nearby mountains. If I hadn’t just happened to be passing by and decided to do a good deed, there’s no guarantee you wouldn’t have been eaten up by a demon.

What he’s saying doesn’t match up with what I remember, but the way he speaks so smoothly with absolute confidence makes it hard for me to doubt his words, and for a moment I question my own memories.

Could the glowing primroses I saw by the lake… and the skeletal birds… all been some sort of strange dream?

Mystery Man: It seems like you’ve slept yourself silly.

The young man runs a hand through his hair before straightening up once more, and I watch as he steps towards me until he’s right next to the bed, bending down to look at me more clearly.

His golden eyes flash with sly amusement.

Mystery Man: Since you’re awake, remember this clearly: you’re on my territory.

Mystery Man: The name’s Shaw, and I’m your benefactor.

Mystery Man: As for what you should do now, you should carefully think… about just how you’re going to repay me for saving your life.

-

Carrying a bucket filled with water, I stagger into the garden, out of breath.

The only other person in the garden is currently lounging next to a flower bed, legs casually swinging back and forth, the picture of idleness.

MC: May. I. Please. Ask. If. Sir. Benefactor. Has. Any. Other. Instructions.

Since the day I woke, in return for Shaw safely bringing me out of the mountain, I agreed to run errands for him for seven days. Today is already the seventh day.

Upon seeing me puffing and panting, his brow lifts in an amused arch.

Shaw: Hmm, go water those flowers over there while you’re at it, then.

MC: Shaw, don’t take your bullying too far!

Shaw: How am I bullying you? Weren’t you the one who said that you wanted to repay me by running errands? Or perhaps you want to do it by offering your body instead?

Trivia from Red: ‘Offering your body’ is translated from the Chinese idiom 以身相许, which means 1) pledge to marry or 2) have sex with a man of her own will.

I stare at him in horrified shock for a moment, face burning red from embarrassment. Grabbing the gourd dipper, I scoop up a full ladle of water and fling it at him with all my might.

Shaw ducks out of the way at lightning speed, and the spray of water splashes onto the flowerbed he had been lounging next to earlier, catching the light of the afternoon sun and forming a rainbow. Shaw’s laughter rings out clearly.

Shaw: I asked you to water the flowers, not water people. Or is your eyesight so bad you can’t tell a human clearly from a flowerbed?

MC: ...You!

These last few days, whenever we’ve had banters like this, I’ve never won even once. Determined not to fall into the same trap again, I ignore his words and instead ask a question.

MC: The seven days are almost up. Can I leave tomorrow?

Shaw’s smile turns teasing.

Shaw: Your house is opposite this mountain, isn’t it? Are you sure you won’t faint halfway on your journey back again?

MC: I definitely won’t!

Upon seeing my determined face, Shaw grins, opening his mouth to say something again. All of a sudden, however, the smile fades from his face.

MC: What’s the matter?

Shaw: Nothing’s up, I’m just heading out for a moment.

Shaw: If you want to go home, I’m not stopping you.

Shaw: But you’re not allowed to leave tomorrow. Stay put in my house, don’t take a step out of the compound.

MC: Why not?

Shaw doesn’t reply my question, and with a few strides of his long legs, he’s vanished from the garden.

MC: Shaw, wait a moment, you haven’t explained yourself-

MC: He’s gone?

This isn’t the first time he’s simply disappeared like this. With a shake of the head, I shrug off his warning. Besides, after tomorrow, I’ll have repaid my debt to him in full, and we’ll have nothing more to do with each other.

On the morning of the next day, Shaw still hasn’t returned.

I chew on my lip, looking at the doors for the seventh time, slightly hesitant to leave without bidding him goodbye.

MC: Well, it’s not like that rascal is going to bother about it anyway…

Trivia from Red: MC quite constantly refers to Shaw as 那家伙, which is a casual way of referring to a mischievous, rascally guy, and can be interpreted as ‘that guy’, or ‘that little punk’.

Even though I say those words, I find my footsteps slowing on the way out of the front courtyard.

MC: Perhaps I should leave him a letter.

I write him a letter and leave it on his table. Just when I’m about to leave, a painting hanging on the wall catches my eye.

MC: This is…

Taking a step closer to look at it more clearly, I realise that it’s a mythical beast that I’ve never seen before.

On the beast’s lower back are five tails, and on its forehead is a single horn. Just from the painting, I can sense a strong aura of pride and arrogance.

MC: This painting… it kind of resembles that guy.

Curiously, I reach out and touch a corner of the painting. All of a sudden, however, the sound of thunder rumbles outside the window.

I look out of the window, and am surprised to see that the sky, that was sunny just moments ago, is now blanketed with thick grey clouds, looking like it’s about to start pouring anytime soon.

MC: If I don’t leave now, it’ll be bad if I’m caught in the rain.

I fasten my cloak, pick up an umbrella and leave Shaw’s house.

Even thought it’s well into the afternoon, the little town is completely covered in a thick fog, as if it has been completely blanketed by a layer of grey. The little river that runs through the town has little lotus lamps dotting the surface, all of them floating along silently.

Just as I’m about to leave the little town, my mind gradually begins to calm.

MC: This feels a little strange…

The town that Shaw resides in might not have too many people, but on a normal day, it would usually be bustling with activity, the smell of firework smoke in the air.

Yet today, there isn’t a single person on the streets.

Note from Red: gee, i wonder why, mc-

The further I go from Shaw’s house, the faster the sky seems to darken and unease wells up in my heart.

MC: Maybe I should go back and wait for him…

[thunder rumbles]

The clouds seem to descend, and the sky darkens even further. I don’t know whether it’s just my imagination, but the mist seems to suffuse and thicken in the tunnel before me, and I can see the outline of dark shapes moving about inside.

Before I can look more closely at them,  there’s a sound behind me, and I turn around. The moment I do, I can’t help but feel shock race through me.

It’s the skeletal bird I saw that night on the mountain!

The bird hops onto the side of the bridge, cocking its head at me. When it opens its beak to speak, what comes out isn’t the shrill squawk of a bird, but the familiar cool and clear voice of a man.

Bird!Shaw: Finally found you… what are you doing here?

MC: Shaw!?

MC: How are you… this bird is-

In typical Shaw fashion, the bird does not answer my question. Instead, it turns its head to look at the tunnel, and lets out a clicking sound even though it doesn’t have a tongue to do so.

Bird!Shaw: Come with me.

With that, it flies to me, taking my sleeve between its beak and tugging me in the opposite direction. Being pulled along into a run with it, all my words come out garbled.

MC: Wait a moment… What, what exactly is going on? Just now, what was that? And you, what are you?

Bird!Shaw: You have so many questions.

MC: It’s not me who has too many questions! It’s just that you’ve hidden too much from me!

Bird!Shaw: ……

Bird!Shaw: It’s the Ghost Festival today.

MC: Ghost Festival… Hungry Ghost Festival!?

Trivia from Red: The Ghost Festival, also known as the Hungry Ghost Festival, is a traditional Buddhist and Taoist festival held in certain East Asian countries. According to the Chinese calendar (a lunisolar calendar), the Ghost Festival is on the 15th night of the seventh month.

In Chinese culture, the fifteenth day of the seventh month in the lunar calendar is called Ghost Day and the seventh month in general is regarded as the Ghost Month (鬼月), in which ghosts and spirits, including those of deceased ancestors, come out from the lower realm. The deceased are believed to visit the living as the realms of Heaven and Hell and the realm of the living are open and both Taoists and Buddhists would perform rituals to transmute and absolve the sufferings of the deceased.

Bird!Shaw: That's right. This is when the nine yin converges, and evil grows easily. It is the day when the Ghost Gate opens, and evil and living souls intersect. It will be more troublesome than a typical day.

Bird!Shaw: I distinctly remember telling you to stay put in my house, who would have thought you’d actually dare to leave and make trouble for me.

As the bird says this, it turns back to eye me. Even though it has no eyes, I can clearly see the words ‘annoyance’ written in its eye sockets.

At that moment, a feeling of unhappiness washes over me, and I can’t help but open my mouth to speak.

MC: All these things… you could have just told me earlier. You made me wait for you for the entirety of yesterday… without so much as an explanation.

MC: Shaw, am I really not worthy of your trust? Am I a burden to you?

The bird stops fluttering its wings for a second before it turns its head, not saying another word.

For a moment, I wonder if Shaw is angry with what I said, but after a while, a small snort of laughter leaves the bird’s mouth, ringing in my ears.

The sound is so clean and clear, it seems like Shaw is standing right next to me.

Bird!Shaw: I don’t think of you as a burden.

Bird!Shaw: I can tell you my true identity, it’s just that at that moment, you can’t be afraid and you’re not allowed to regret it.

MC: I won’t be scared, and I wouldn’t regret it.

Bird!Shaw: Then follow me closely.

The clouds close in on us, and the first drops of rain begin to fall.

It’s going to rain.

I follow after the bird closely, and each time, I narrowly manage to escape every encounter with a dark shape. Just as we’re about to leave the small town, however, it’s as if all the spirits suddenly sense me, and they all turn and start rushing towards me!

Bird!Shaw: Don’t bother about them! Just run towards the exit of the town!

The second it finishes those words, it lets out a caw. As if rallied, a hundred of the skeletal birds suddenly fly over from behind the wall. Like arrows loosed from a bow, they descend on the mass of black spirits and attack them with their sharp beaks and wings, keeping them tightly packed together.

But there is a limit to the number of birds, and the pitch black spirits can’t be stopped.

Understanding that the birds can’t buy me all the time in the world, I grit my teeth and run as hard as I can for the exit of the town.

Even before I can take two steps, pain runs up my leg, as if I’m being yanked back by something. I fall painfully to the ground.

Withstanding the pain, I look down to see a skeletal person grabbing tight onto my ankle, refusing to let go!

No matter how hard I struggle, the person refuses to let go, and only holds on tighter and tighter. Watching the rest of the dark shapes slowly approaching, I yank out something I have tucked in my waist, and bring it down as hard as I can on the person.

Shiing!

A loud wail rings through the air, but the grip loosens enough for me to pry it off. Looking down in my hand, I clasp the dagger that had saved me seven days ago, I’ve never let it leave me even once.

But in the time it took for me to do all that, it’s too late for me to escape the town.

I grip the dagger tight.

The dark shapes draw closer, before they finally rush at me ferociously.

[thunder rumbles intensely]

Thunder rumbles throughout the sky, like the beating of a thousand drums, the galloping of a hundred thousand horses, unceasing. In that second, hundreds of white hot lightning bolts flash through the air before me, bathing the entire sky in bright white light.

Note from Red: that can’t be good for your eyes...

A large hand covers my eyes from behind.

Note from Red: who needs sunglasses when we have shaw’s big hands T^T

Shaw: You idiot, why are you just standing there for? Do you want to keep your eyes or not?

His tone is teasing and lighthearted, but it makes me feel safer than any promise or vow in the world.

MC: Shaw…

Shaw: I didn’t think you’d be able to save yourself, not bad.

Shaw: No wonder I-

The rest of his words are cut off by the rumble of thunder, the flash of lightning. I feel raindrops land pitter patter on my nose and cheeks.

In order to let me hear his words clearly, he leans down and puts his lips right next to my ear when he speaks, breath hot against the shell of my ear.

Shaw: Turn around, open up your umbrella and count to ten in your head before you open your eyes. Got it?

I nod with all my strength.

Shaw releases me and I obey his instructions, opening the umbrella and beginning to count.

MC: One, two, three…

The strikingly familiar cry I heard that night in the forest rings out from behind me, leaving yet another deep impression in my heart.

MC: Four, five, six…

The rain slows to a gentle drizzle, and the oppressive air hanging over the town seems to be slowly fading.

MC: Seven, eight, nine…

Shaw… Shaw…

MC: Ten.

I turn around.

Within the bright flashes of light, I catch sight of a silhouette of the five tailed mythical beast.

-

Evil spirits dealt with and the dark clouds gone, it seems like the town has finally gone back to normal.

Because I injured my foot, Shaw takes me to a small boat, and the two of us drift along slowly on the river. As the boat is slowly carried along beneath a bridge, Shaw, who is lazily sitting at the front, plucks a flower from the side to play with.

The lotus lamps bobbing alongside us glow softly, and what was initially supposed to be a gloomy Hungry Ghost Festival resembles more of a pleasant evening of a wedding night.

Shaw’s purple robes flutter in the wind, and under the light of the lamps hanging from the boat, the horn on his forehead seems to be softened with a soft glow.

The scenery before me reminds me of the time we first met on the lake back in that forest, the only differences being that he’s now missing a few birds, and that I am here with him.

MC: Right, why haven’t I seen any of the other town residents today?

Shaw: You think everyone is like you? I already warned them beforehand not to leave their houses, it’d make way for the souls and I can do what I need to do.

MC: Hahahaha…

Shaw: What are you laughing about?

MC: I’m laughing at you - with that image and disposition, who would have guessed that you’re actually a great immortal?

After hearing my words, Shaw lifts an eyebrow, looking slightly miffed.

Shaw: Then what did you think I was, a monster?

MC: I think that you’re Shaw, that’s all.

Shaw stares blankly at me for a moment.

MC: Shaw, on the day of Qixi, when you brought me out of the mountain, was it you who rescued me from those bandits as well?

Even though my words are phrased as a question, my tone is sure and certain. There’s a flash of surprise in Shaw’s eyes, but he doesn’t reply. He casts his eyes downwards, manner insipid.

Shaw: That isn’t a good memory to have for the Qixi Festival. Just forget it.

MC: I won’t forget it.

What he says is true. The Qixi festival is deserving of good and happy memories, and being by bandits certainly isn’t that, but still…

I look earnestly at Shaw.

MC: But on that day, you also appeared.

All around us, the lotus lamps flicker softly in the night, jade green smoke curling up faintly, the cool sounds of running water in my ears.

MC: I feel like this is the most memorable, and also the most treasured Qixi I have ever experienced.

This world’s thousands of relationships cannot be clearly defined by these dates, but on this Ghost Festival, my heart soars more than it did on the day of the Qixi Festival.

Shaw watches me silently, before he puts down the flower in his hand and leans forward, closer to me.

His hands carry with them the body temperature of one that is not human, fingertips lifting up my bangs once again.

Inch by inch, his finger trails down, as if mapping out my face.

His golden eyes are locked firmly on me, gaze intense and captivating like that of a wild beast, not letting my eyes deviate from him in the least.

This time, I don’t shy away from him.

Shaw: The last time, didn’t you ask for my true self?

Shaw: I’m Zheng, and I consume evil energy as sustenance.

Shaw: I’ve never felt like I’ve done this to help humans, and I’ve never considered myself to be an auspicious sign like the legends say.

Shaw: When I’m hungry, I eat.

Suddenly, my hand is grasped tightly in his, and he lifts it to his mouth.

He bites down slowly on my index finger, sharpened teeth scraping over delicate skin, and slight pain radiates out from where his lips are wrapped around my fingertip.

Shaw: Even if that’s what I am, you’re not going to be afraid of me?

Even though he’s clearly giving off a sense of hidden danger and his words are meant to provoke me into giving him a response, my heart skips a beat at the smile on his face.

MC: I…

Shaw: I… what? Speak louder.

With a self satisfied smirk that looks reminiscent of a cat that got the canary, he nips on my finger again.

MC: I said, I won’t be-

Before the word ‘scared’ can leave my mouth, my finger suddenly slips free of Shaw’s mouth to land on his lower lip. My fingertip softly runs against his lips, breath warm and eyes shining.

It’s clearly… a kiss.

Note from Red: yes mc you get flustered NOW when your finger was on his lips but not when he was literally biting on it priorities on point we stan

In a moment, my entire face burns bright red and I hurriedly pull back my finger.

MC: Shaw!

Shaw grins at me as he releases my hand, his gaze on me filled with an emotion I can’t quite recognise. Having fallen for his tricks yet again, my heart races and I desperately look for something to say, but didn’t expect that Shaw would beat me to it.

Shaw: Shouldn’t you be heading home?

The second he says that, I’m reminded of my original purpose: to bid my farewells to him before leaving for home.

I nod at him for a moment, before I shake my head energetically.

MC: Shaw, I…

Shaw: But today, haven’t I saved you once again?

MC: ...Eh?

Shaw: The timing’s just right. I’ve polished off all the evil energies and spirits here completely, it’s time for a change in scenery.

Shaw: The town near your home… is there anything entertaining?

He speaks so quickly that I have no time to think.

MC: Entertaining… well, not really, but there’s a lot of good food there! Recently it’s been chestnut and lotus seed season, so there should be a lot of confections sold on the streets…

MC: Wait a second, you’re not thinking of following me home, are you?

Shaw: Of course I am. How else are you going to repay this huge favour you owe me for saving you?

His words are bold and upright, but the grin on his face is that of a satisfied hunter.

Shaw: Before you fully repay the favour… don’t even think about escaping from me.

[gringolet]

hi why do you ship gawain with lancelot? not trying to start shit im just curious

God so this is a true fact but I’ve been thinking about them since sophomore year of high school (i'm a college sophomore now) so this is going to be lengthy and involved. But i think Lancelot and Gawain have a really interesting dynamic as well as a lot of support in text which i think makes them compelling.

    In a lot of ways they are equals in a way neither of them is with anyone else-- they are, in the vulgate at least, the two best knights in the world, the two arthur trusts most and who are famous even among other good knights. Its almost isolating, that level of renown, and you see that Lancelot in particular is uncomfortable with it, though they both at times have stories of trying to escape their own names. Of course they would understand each other in a way no one else could.

    Despite the fact that Lancelot quite literally steals his place as number one, gawain is never resentful of this, never upset to lose to lancelot. In fact he seems very happy to sing his praises to anyone he meets, like in Lancelot and the Hart with the White Foot, where he says of lancelot that “He is the best knight alive in the entire world, and moreover the most handsome.”

    In the stanzaic morte, he tells elaine of shallot that 

“Such a leman as thou hast one,

 In all this world ne be no mo.

There is no lady of flesh ne bone

In this worlde so thrive or thro,

Though her herte were steel or stone,

That might her love holde him fro.”

Or, translated,

Such a love as you have, 

there’s no better in the world.

There is no lady of flesh or bone,

In this world so lucky or stubborn

Though her heart were steel or stone,

She could stop it  from loving him.’

In the vulgate hes constantly running after lancelot, happy to play sidekick as long as it means lancelot's company. He pretty infamously says this about lancelot:

Then Sir Gawain thought a little, like a man who believed he would never be well again. “If God were to grant me my health,” he said, “I’d immediately wish to be the most beautiful maiden in the world, happy and healthy, on condition that he would love me above all others, all his life and mine.”

I think this is really interesting because its not a devotion gawain shows to anyone else outside of his family. Hes oddly protective of lancelot, considering he can very well fend for himself usually. In the dutch hart, he literally tracks down and kills a man who hurt lancelot, before tying his body to his horse and dragging it around like achilles. He also rescues and heals him in morien, gets the whole court in a tizzy looking for him after a battle with galehaut where he spends a year searching, drags lancelots poor cousins all over looking for him after a tournament, freaks out when he goes missing in the hart (: “He lamented more grievously than anyone ever will, or had ever done before, because he thought he had lost Lancelot, the daring knight.”) like jesus gawain calm down.

He explicitly forsakes his devotion and duty to the country in favour of lancelot; in morien, hes called to take his place as king because arthur is gone, and he refuses in favour of, you guessed it, running after lancelot.  In chretien it is said that 

“Now I will tell you the truth, and you must not think I lie, that Gawain would not wish to be chosen king, unless he had Lancelot with him. “

And he lies to arthurs face multiple times in the vulgate and morte to hide lancelot's various crimes.

Speaking of crimes, theyre both uh, well. Literal serial killers. And you know its good to have hobbies in common in a relationship. No but seriously they represent a lot of the darker parts of knighthood. From lancelots bit with the proud knight in kotc to gawains… what can be only described as massacres in the dutch texts. They both have very odd relationships with death, with gawain so familiar with it by being surrounded by violence from a young age that it no longer affects him, while lancelot is almost the opposite-- its very distant to him. 

I think thats another reason i like them; theyre similar in a lot of ways but in just as many they are opposites. Gawains whole deal is being charming, manipulative, educated and good with words. Lancelot is in contrast, especially in chretien and the vulgate, at his most inept in social situations. You note that in the hart, its gawain that has to talk him out of the marriage he accidentally agreed to (“ But he does not at this time wish to marry you-- you must understand...”) etc.  while gawain is centered at court in a web of political alliances, lancelot is a fair unknown, who can and does disappear for years and generally avoid court when he can. I think they work well as a team because of this.

Lancelot certainly think so, at least in the morien: Quoth Sir Lancelot: "By the Lord who made me, and who shall be Doom's-man at the last day, come what may thereof, since Sir Gawain rideth hence 'tis not I will bide behind!”

He isnt as quotable outside of one specific scene ill get to later, and most of what he does say is in aside to himself, like the lengthy speech he gives in knight of the cart while debating to himself why gawain has failed to rescue him, and if this means gawain doesn’t love him (“He ought indeed to receive your aid whom you used to love so devotedly! For my part I may truly say that there is no lodging place or retreat on either side of the sea, where I would not have searched for you at least seven or ten years before finding you, if I knew you to be in prison. But why do I thus torment myself? You do not care for me even enough to take this trouble.”) trust me it goes on like this for quite a while. 

On a side note, i think its a bit reminiscent of a scene from the vulgate where gawain thinks that lancelot is in  love with elaine of shallot--

 “That night he thought a lot about Lancelot and said to himself that he would not have thought that Lancelot would have aspired to leave his heart in any place that was not nobler and more honourable than all others. ‘And yet,’ he said, ‘I cannot really blame him if he loves this girl… (he goes on in debate with himself)...

    That night Sir Gawain slept very little, because he was thinking of the girl and Lancelot,”

the morte specifically calls gawain the man lancelot loves most in the world, according to a prophecy of merlins. Then, the kicker: he kills gawains brothers on accident, gawain swears to kill him in revenge, and lancelot…. Refuses to kill gawain, or even to renounce love for him. When asked about the fight, he says:

 “I do not know what the outcome will be, but I do know that if I were the winner and ought to cut off his head, I should not be able to kill him for all the world, because I think he is too noble. Moreover, he is the man, out of all those in the world that have meant anything to me, that I have most loved, and still do,”

Gawain forgives him on his deathbed and writes a letter, the entirety of which i implore you to read. He begs lancelot’s forgiveness and for him to return from france and see gawains tomb, “for all the love that was betwixt us”

I think you could interpret this as a very passionate friendship, certainly, but i am gay and so i think they are too. Not only because of the texts but because of the fact that their dynamic is fun and interesting and they work well together.

Oh, and if anyone was wondering why i call them remarkable, here is another quote from the vulgate, following the first fight with gawain:

‘It is certainly remarkable of you,’ said King Bors, ‘to love him so deeply when he hates you mortally.’

‘Find it remarkable if you wish,’ replied Lancelot, ‘but he will never be able to hate me so much that I stop loving him.’

[dr-gloom]

The Makings of Greatness: Chapter 6

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: platonic logince, platonic moxiety, platonic anxeit, familial ThVi

Tags/Warnings (for this chapter): intimidation, slight violence, yelling

Ko-fi

AO3

Masterlist

Prologue  Ch 1  Ch 2  Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7  Ch 8  Ch 9  Ch 10  Ch 11  Ch 12  Ch 13  Ch 14  Ch 15  Ch 16  Ch 17

“All clear, captain!” a petite grey tentacled alien called from the lookout, his three eye stalks extending to look down at the deck below.

Roman smiled, turning to Emile. “Well my friend, are we ready for takeoff?”

Emile grins. “My pleasure, captain.” He turns to the crew, calling out. “All hands to stations!”

The deck bursts to life, crew running to and fro to reach their stations and prepare for takeoff. Virgil made it to the top of the stairs, looking around curiously at all the aliens running around. He’d never seen a ship take off from the vantage point of the ship itself. He was kind of worried, as silly as it sounded.

He watched as a female alien - almost human-like in appearance, bone thin, body stopping right below the arms so she was little more than a head and two limbs - and a rotund vomit-green man with tentacles for hair resembling dreadlocks both climbed the shrouds nearest him, many other crew members doing the same on the others.

“Loose all solar sails!”

The crew stood on the supporting beams and grabbed their ropes, releasing the sails from their drawn-up positions to unfurl, tying the ropes in place. Virgil watched the half-circle shaped sails simultaneously billow out, already catching on a breeze. A fish-like crew member bumped into him as they took a step back to pull a rope into position, whirring around to growl at Virgil in exasperation. Virgil stumbled away, muttering an apology, cheeks burning.

The ship rose into the air, no longer tethered to the dock and solar sails gathering energy to power the thrusters. Roman grinned, feeling the thrill of an impending journey squeeze his chest and steering the ship to turn around, directing it away from the space port. Virgil watched with a wide grin as light danced through the sails from the top down, lighting the hexagonal pattern and brightening the power indicators on the sails’ masts, Virgil’s breath catching at the sight.

This was significantly cooler than his scrappy homemade solar surfer.

Below deck, a crew member watched as the power reserves slowly filled, readying himself to pull the lever to ignite the thrusters. Above deck, anything not tied down - mainly the crew and passengers - began to float away from the ship as it rose away from the space port’s artificial gravity. Roman, arms crossed and calm as ever as he rose into the air, called out. “Mr. Snuff! Engage artificial gravity.”

The Flatula man that Virgil had ran into earlier turned to Roman and gave an aerated response, turning to the lever inset on the post beside him and pulling it. In a split second, all inhabitants of the ship fell to its surface. Roman and Emile landed on their feet as if they had never moved, while Virgil stumbled and Logan landed on his face. Virgil snrked.

“Full speed, Emile.”

Emile nods and grabs a metal tube sticking out of the floor, a sort of communication piece running from the deck to the control room. “Take her away, fellas!”

“Brace yourself, doctor.” Roman muttered. Logan scoffed.

Below deck, the crew member watched the reserves fill and pulled the switch, the thrusters igniting and sending the ship into flight. Logan was sent flying, his suit being the only thing between him and a bad headache as he collided with the wall behind him. Roman’s body shifted with the sudden inertia but stood resolute, a smug grin on his face. Virgil climbed up the ship’s shrouds, clinging to the rope with one hand, half hanging from the structure as he watched the space port quickly grow farther away, a giddy grin overtaking his features.

The wind whipped at his clothes and his hair, the free feeling of hanging on to life by a rope and a sure foot pulling his stomach into his pelvis. The feeling of being alive lit his skin and made his heart race. Virgil loved it. He opened his eyes, unaware of having closed them, to catch the sight of dozens of galactic whales flying through the air. His eyes widened and he leaned just a little bit more. “Whoa…”

Dozens of large blue-and-white whales floated through the air with a level of ease as if swimming in the ocean. They had spottings of red along their backs and around their large eyes, and surrounded the ship on all sides, flying in V-shaped groupings. A galactic whale passed by just yards from the ship, and Virgil came face-to-face with one of its large amber eyes.

Logan gasps softly as he watches the creatures pass. “Orcus Galacticus… How fascinating…”

Roman watches the awe on Logan’s face with slight amusement.

“It’s a grand day for sailing, wouldn’t you say, captain?”

Roman turned to face Declan, who stood on the main deck. Morph zipped around his shoulders cheerfully. Roman’s eyes narrow as Declan shoots him a charming grin. “And look at you, you’re as trim and as fit as a sloop with new sails and a fresh coat of paint.” His robotic fingers skate along the surface of the deck’s trim. Roman preens under the compliment momentarily before shaking his head, narrowing his eyes at the cyborg.

“You can keep that flattery to your space port floozies, Moran. I’m not interested.”

Morph morphs into a miniature Roman, placing his hands on his hips and swaying them teasingly. “Space port floozies! Space port floozies!” Roman’s cheeks heat and he opens his mouth to retaliate.

“I speak nothing but the truth, captain.” Declan replies smoothly, sweeping Morph into his tricorn before placing it on his head.

Roman rolls his eyes, his gaze locking on Virgil still in the shrouds. “Isn’t that your cabin boy? I suggest you stop running your mouth and do your job.”

Declan’s mouth twists into a scowl and he turns away, stalking over to Virgil. Roman’s shoulders relax. Something about that cook rubbed him the wrong way.

“Virg-o!” Virgil turns to look at Declan, the light, carefree expression still on his face. “I have two friends for you to meet,” Virgil looks around, curious. Declan rolls his eyes, “Mr. Mop, and Mrs. Bucket.” He holds up a mop in one hand and a bucket in the other, and the happy grin evaporates from Virgil’s face.

Declan tells himself the strange feeling in his chest is from the eye he ate as he disappears back down into the galley.

Virgil drags the wet mop across the deck, back and forth monotonously. “This is bullshit…” He grumbles to himself. “I’ll show you Mr. Mop, you stupid-” Someone bumps him from behind, sending him stumbling a few steps. He turns around to tell them off only to come face-to-face with a largely-muscled grey four-armed alien with a red face. The alien who’d been listening into their conversation earlier that day.

“Watch it, twerp.” He grumbles before walking away.

Virgil scoffs and goes back to mopping, his bored and restless gaze wandering over to three crew members chatting across the deck. The short multi-eyed alien from the crow’s nest is talking to the large man Virgil had watched climb the shrouds earlier and one other large magenta-colored alien. The new addition is the one who notices Virgil staring, nudging the other two to get their attention. The conversation stops, and Shrouds Guy scoffs. “What are you lookin’ at, weirdo?”

Suddenly his head detaches from his body, his tentacle dreads acting as legs to walk his head onto the barrel he’d been leaning on. His arms, which were folded over his chest, drop to lay at his sides and expose a face on his abdomen. “Yeah, weirdo.”

Virgil’s eyes widen in shock and he looks away.

A soft hissing sound comes from the shrouds above him, and he looks up just in time to see some sort of crustacean-spider-thing in a black leather jacket crawling down the ropes. Six long thin legs move his lithe body with such ease it looks as if he’s walking on flat ground. When he gets low enough, his front legs extend to stretch himself over Virgil and settle in front of him, looming over the scared teen.

Virgil’s heart hammers in his chest as large, gold eyes narrow at him. “Cabin boys should learn to mind their own business.” He hisses, pinchers at the sides of his mouth moving as he speaks. Virgil swallows, shoulders tense.

“Why, got something to hide, Bright Eyes?” Jesus Christ can’t you keep your mouth shut just once in your life you idiot.

The crab-spider dude rears back with an annoyed sneer and grabs Virgil’s shirt in his claws, lifting him off the ground. Virgil’s legs kick as he lets out a startled yelp, clawing at the alien’s claw. He isn’t sure if he’s trying to get out or trying to make sure the freak doesn’t drop him.

“Maybe your ears don’t work so well.” And oh, god, his breath.

“Yeah, eugh, too bad my nose works just fine.” No no no no you idiot shut up he’s going to kill you he’s going to throw you over-

The spider-crab guy snarls and shoves Virgil into the main mast, the metal digging into his back. At this point other crew members have gathered around the pair and start jeering, egging spider-crab to just throw Virgil overboard, or cut his fingers off, or an ear, teach him a lesson, teach him some manners.

“Any last words?” His claw reaches towards Virgil’s face, and Virgil’s blood runs cold. His stomach hits his feet and his heart is beating so fast that for a moment Virgil can’t tell if it’s beating at all. Just as the sharp tip pokes the soft flesh under his chin, a metal hand clamps around its base, pulling forcefully. Crab-spider grunts in discomfort, turning slightly to glare at Declan who looks all too casual for the tense atmosphere.

Declan takes a bite out of the purp in his flesh hand, grinning. “Mr. Solares, have you ever seen what happens to a fresh purp when you squeeze it hard enough?”

Declan’s grip on Remy’s claw tightens and Virgil realizes that it’s not his hand, but a metal clamp. Remy grunts in pain and releases Virgil, who lands in a crouch and scuffs away, heart still hammering in his chest. The surrounding crew give annoyed and exasperated cries, clearly not satisfied that Declan’s interfered with their fun. Declan lets go of Remy’s claw and Remy grimaces, flexing it to make sure it’s okay.

“What’s going on here?”

Emile descends the stairs and all chatter silences. “You know the rules; there is no brawling on this ship. Any further offenders will be confined to the brig for the remainder of the voyage.” He stops in front of Remy, glaring down at him. Virgil notices Remy has lowered himself to be beneath the first mate, curiously enough. Emile enunciates as he leans in, expression completely unamused. “Am I clear, Mr. Solares?”

Remy grits his teeth. A light catches his eye and he looks over to Declan, whose eye’s turned red and focused in on him. Remy turns back to Emile. “Crystal,” he grits out.

Emile turns away, satisfied, and heads back indoors. Declan grins at his retreating back, shooing off the crew as he calls out, “Well done, Mr. Picani. A tight ship is a happy ship, wouldn’t you say?” As soon as the deck is clear, Declan’s expression sours and he picks up the mop, turning on Virgil who still stands by the mast. “I gave you a job, Virg-o.”

Virgil scowls. “I was doing it until that bug thing-!”

“That’s enough!” Declan spits. “I want this deck swabbed spotless! It better be done by the time I come back.” He turns. “Morph.” Morph flits to Declan’s side. “Keep an eye on him. Let me know if there are any distractions.” He sends one last scathing look to Virgil before heading back towards the galley, and Morph flits over to Virgil, making a point of watching him closely. He even jokingly morphs into an eyeball, but Virgil just scoffs and goes back to mopping.

Declan descends the stairs, pausing at the base of the stairway as he takes in the sight of the crew scattered among the tables. He paints a charming grin onto his features as he calls attention to himself.

“So, we’re all here.” All chatter peters out as the crew turn to face Declan. “Fine. Now, pardon my candid speech, gentleman, are you all-” his hand changes to a large blade and he swings at the man with the tentacle dreads, the head jumping up just in time to avoid the cut. “stark-raving-” he swings at the multi-eyed lookout, who ducks and gets the tip of his tricorn cut. “totally brainlessly insane?!” He shouts, face twisted in rage. The crew all shrink back, some even cowering in their seats. Declan paces the isle between the rows of tables.

“After all my work, talking us up, getting us hired as an upstanding crew, you want to blow the whole thing?!”

Remy sneers. “The boy was being nosy.”

“How about you leave the talking to me, you bug-brained twit. As for the boy…. I’ll run him so ragged he won’t have time to think.”

Taglist: @the5thcoy @dailysandersidesaudoodles @hungry-red-panda @neonb-fly @chemically-imbalanced-romance @punsterterry @dead4sevenyears @metaphoricalpluto2 @tanyatoloni1334

[elasianstar]

Group Training

Ever since the guys had their awakenings last June Wednesday night has become elemental night. After daily training with splinter the guys would take a short break and then, they were mine.

Training started with meditation, linking with the spirit of the elements. When linkage had occurred each of the Turtle’s elemental marks would glow in the corresponding color. Yellow for the eastern winds, Green for the northern earth, Blue for the western waters, and Red for the southern flame. Once all four elements had been called a ring of silver cordoned off the sacred circle. Once my own energy, deep Purple for the spirit of the self, was called the silver circle was sealed in gold and practice could begin.

Placed at the four cardinal directions were items dedicated to each specific energy for the guys to practice manipulation on a small scale.

Mikey had feathers of various shapes and sizes, he was tasked with manipulating the wind to move them in specific ways. building his sense of control by reigning in his boundless energy.

Donnie was given a small sand garden with buried crystals. His task was to manipulate the sand to reveal the crystals without manipulating the crystals themselves or scattering the sand. Focusing on releasing energy gradually instead of in extreme bursts built by bottling his energy. This was intended to help him find balance instead of bouncing between extremes.

Leo had a simple bowl of water. To help him learn to relinquish control I tasked him with dipping his hands in the bowl and letting the water flow where it wanted, allowing the element to bind with his energy without him being in direct control. To feel and learn the natural flow.

Raph had his penny candles. Controlling his more volatile emotions to direct the flame to burn the target object hanging above without burning the others surrounding it. or melting his candle into a useless puddle of wax as he had many times already.

As they worked I stood guard, ready to act should anything go wrong. My hold on each colored soul loose yet ready to pull it from the form of its vessel and break the connection to the element should things get out of hand. The disconnect between body and soul acting as an emergency shutoff switch. Luckily I hadn't had to use it yet.

Mikey had been the first to crack the secret of control on the second practice session at that.

“I've got it! I've got it look!”

He had picked up a single feather with a breeze, making it flip end over end. His arms moving as if he were hitting the feather with his nunchaku instead of performing with visualization alone as I had instructed. We all learn control in our own way I suppose. And if you think about it the fluid yet rapid motion of nunchaku isn't much different from the motion of wind.

From there he had been tasked with learning to further manipulate the element, performing different “Tricks" with the feathers before moving to less and less aerodynamic objects.

Soon after Donnie followed suit. Learning to use his voice to manipulate the sand as it would behave if it were placed in a subwoofer. From there he experimented with other methods of sound making, relying on his sense of touch to feel the vibrations he couldn't differentiate by ear. He even used tools such as his bow staff to produce the specific vibrations needed to control his element, keeping the flow of energy steady and constant to manipulate the material. Soon we will be ready to experiment with large stones and begin work with the more organic aspects of the element such as plants.

“After Beethoven lost his hearing he cut the legs off his piano so he could feel the vibrations to differentiate between notes. Though I'm only tone deaf I figured a similar technique would help me pin down the resonant frequencies of the stone.”

Raph was the most recent, just last week he managed to lift the tip of the flame to its target and the smile on his face was just as bright as the fire. All week he had been sparking little flames along his fingers and making them roll and jump across his skin. After splinter got after him and sent him to the hashi for accidentally torching his new altarcloth we finally convinced Raph that keeping a fire extinguisher of some sort around was probably a good idea, And to not practice around flammable objects. Let's just say I've started tying my braid into a bun at the base of my neck, just in case.

The only brother yet to manage his task was Leonardo. Every week he would sit with his bowl and meditate with his opal only to get increasingly frustrated. He was trying to coax the water to flow across his skin and would often times get a small rivulet to run up his arm, only for it to burst and send water across the dojo floor. It was like watching a child try to tame a skittish pet by repeatedly picking it up and wondering why it struggled to get away.

Well I was going to get him properly bonded to his element before I left for school if it killed me.

That’s where we were now, the guys clustered behind leo as he focused on the calm pool.

“Water is an extremely dynamic element, often displaying much of its own will. You have to learn that you do not control the mischievous nature of the creature, you simply learn to utilize it as it is. You can dig a new bank for a river but its course will always shift in its own way.”

His hands dipped into the pool causing slight ripples across the surface and not much else before stilling again. Time passed in silence leo’s eyes never leaving the surface as he kept his breath calm and meditative. After a while though the eldest became impatient, the glow of his element mark growing in intensity as he urged the water to begin to flow up his arms. When it reached his elbows however it burst from his control and splattered over the dojo floor. In his frustration Leo flung the bowl and began pacing around the room muttering under his breath and rubbing at his face with his still damp hands. Drops of rampant fluid drained down the razor edge of his katana to gather unnaturally at the tips, giving me an idea.

“LEONARDO.”

He stopped in his tracks, instinct telling him to pay attention to his teacher.

“I have an alternative plan. Would you entertain me to attempt it?”

The defeated look on his face softened and he nodded, eyes still glued to the spilled water on the floor.

“Come on...hey Donnie?”

“Yeah E?”

“Grab one of the overhead sprinklers from the greenhouse and bring it to the main room for me?”

“Yeah sure thing, Come on Mikey, ill need another set of hands to keep it from getting banged up on the tunnel walls.”

“What do you have up your sleeve this time Myojo?

“Just watch Red, you'll see.”

…

Once everything was gathered i set my plans in motion.

“Allright Leo, i want you to stand in the pool at the bottom of the entrance slide, ready your katana and close your eyes. Ok Donnie, start up the sprinkler. Now leo i want you to go through your katas, don't pay any attention to the water beyond keeping your connection strong.”

With a steadying sigh Leo started going through the familiar motions, his feet planted securely in the flowing chanel as the pricking of falling water kept his mind scattered from focusing on any one source of his element. After a few minutes the water at his feet inexplicably stilled, retaining a glassy smooth surface despite the movements of the katana wielding kappa or the raining droplets coming from above.

“Well i'll be damned, the son of a bitch actually managed it.”

“Quiet Raph, OK Leo, keep doing that but slow down, focus only on keeping your motions as smooth and calm as possible, as you would if you were doing tai chi.”

As his speed decreased and his breath evened out to the point of being nearly undetectable in his chest the water at his feet began to gather, lifting above the surface proper in a smooth mound. A thick rivulet about as big around and as long as a human arm started to form, flowing up one of his legs to slither over his shell and his left shoulder. The falling droplets helped give the creature form, long spikes supporting flowing fins sprouting from the writhing curling mass of its body as its tail thinned out to a trickle of a point and the squarish face took shape and sprouted its own fins. The creature looked like a mixture of a fancy koi and an eastern dragon, twirling along Leo’s arms and down the length of his blades with its translucent and wavering body.

“What is that?”

“Uisce, the spirit of water. A mischievous trickster of a creature who does not take to rigid orders, the ancient japanese called her mizu.”

Mizu continued to follow the motions of her host for a while before losing form and becoming a strong torrent that followed the tips of Leo’s katana like a set of divining rods.

“Leonardo continue your motion but do not open your eyes until i tell you, when you do you will not stop, you will not hitch or falter in your breath, you will remain calm and finish whatever motion you are currently in before reacting. Do you understand.”

I did not wait to be given an answer signaling for him to do as i had instructed. When his eyes opened he was greeted with the sight of twin torrents, dancing from the ends of his blades like a gymnast’s ribbons.

“Good focus only on suggesting the path, do not force your element. Speed up, let's see if you can hold it.”

His nod was slight, sharp eyes trained on the swirling and crashing water. I picked up an apple from the table and threw it at him so that he would be unable to block it with his blades. The water moved against it's flow to sweep up the fruit, rolling and bobbing it amongst itself.

“Don cut the sprinkler.”

The rain stopped and the water fell back to settle in the pool but the apple still bobbed as if being played with by a cat. Leo looked at me and I gestured to the now partially eaten fruit.

“Try and take it.”

When he pulled the apple away the water burst forward to follow it, taking the form of the water spirit again as it attempted to snatch it from Leo’s hands.

“No, it's mine now. You've had enough.”

It perched on his arm and just sat there looking at him for a moment before spitting a jet of water into his face.

“Ah! Ppphhhhh! You little…”

The creature disappeared again but not before Leo managed to knock the apple away to roll across the floor and rest at Raph’s feet. A spark jumped from his fingers as a wavering canine form fell on the fruit in a spreading bloom of flame before taking a more solid shape to gnaw.

“Lasair, that isn't yours… oh no Leo stop her!”

The water spirit jumped on her brother and a burst of hot steam filled the room, revealing a third competitor for the prize. It had a body like a serpent with three sets of wings and a razor beak.

“great now Goath is after it too, Mikey, Leo, Raph get ahold of them before i do.”

“....”

“....”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE THOSE THINGS!!”

Really thought they’d be used to this by now, really didn't want to have to do this today but with three fighting chaos beasts threatening to destroy the lair i'll have to.

Raph’s POV

What in the hell? When you think you’ve finally seen it all you see three supposed elemental spirits battling it out for a half eaten apple in the middle of your goddamn living room. I can't even be surprised anymore, i didn't know what to even start doing about this and on top of it Elasia just up and disappeared. She was the one who knew how to deal with all this shit.

Great now there’s another one, this one was so dark it looked like it was just a hole in reality with sharp gold eyes and wide wings. When it landed one three toed foot grabbed the apple and stared the others down. This one was bigger than the others, and not as weird lookin. It was just a shadow shaped like…. Really? A damn raven, she was behind this.

The raven took the apple in its beak and broke it into four chunks, dropping one piece in front of Me, Mikey, and Leo. the creatures followed and started crunching at the bait. Now they were well behaved, figures. The raven took the fourth piece and hopped to the couch, it dropped the piece and nudged it behind and a thin vine wrapped around it and pulled it into its hiding hole. The raven fluffed itself all self satisfied and cawed like it was bitchin at us before it took off for the shadows of the tunnels.

Elasia’s POV

“What are you waiting for get a handle on your spirits! Do i have to do everything?”

“What if it bites me?”

“Mikey, Goath isn't going to bite you. If anyone should have control of their element its you. Now just grab the thunderbird.”

The smokey bird serpent slithered right up his arm and wrapped itself around his neck where it promptly fell asleep.

“Awwww, he’s so fluffy! Who's a good bird.”

“See, now get a hold of the others before they act out again.”

Leo’s jumped back in the water and crawled up on the retaining wall to sit next to her master. Otherwise ignoring him until he came to her, sitting on the wall next to the Koi dragon and reaching out to stroke its fins. Raph’s just looked up at him with the same look of fed up confusion as his master.

“What did you say his name was again?”

“The celts call him lasair, it literally means flame so whatever tongue you want to use.”

“Kaen, here.”

The hellhound looked at the floor in shame as he shifted closer to his master. He looked like a doberman with way too many teeth but he was acting absolutely pathetic as he gazed up longingly at Raph. it didn't take long for the big softie to break.

“Don't give me that face….fine, up! Good boy. Ah don't, gah! God what’s with dogs and lickin my damn face!”

“It won't come out.”

Donnie was tugging on one of the vines trying to dislodge his spirit from its hiding place.

“That’s because she doesn't understand. Crann is shy so you have to be gentle. You know how to handle your element, its part of you.”

Donnie got down on all fours and peered behind the couch, taking a minute to breath and try and get a good look at the creature. He made a low rumbling sound almost too low to hear and held out his hand, waiting for the creature to make the first step. A thin vine edged out of the darkness, soon followed by an eldritch abomination of various plant parts that wound itself around his arm.

“See, she’s a sweetheart.”

Donnie looked like he was expecting her to bite his limb off.

“What is...she.”

“She’s a yateveo, a devil tree.”

It looked at Donnie with what could only be described as it's face, a single purple orchid about the size of a tennis ball. The blossom tilted this way and that before slowly moving to rest on his shoulder, the mass of vines following and wrapping to get a hold on most of his upper body.

“I think she likes me? Hey hey heyheyhey! watch the vines Ki! And give those back I need those….”

Ki dropped Don’s glasses back on his face and started in on some other method of curiously exploring her new master.

“So what are these things.”

“Mizu was laid back over Leo’s lap, every once in a while trying to snap at the long tails of his mask.

“They are the spirits of the elements.”

“But I thought you said we were the elements?”

“No I said you were the Guardians of the elements. You are mortal, the elements have to be around even if you’re between lives so they take the forms of elemental spirit beasts. When you are alive they are bound to your souls by nature and that is why you can control them. There are five, one for each of the elements air, earth, fire, water, and spirit. When you figured out how to control your element you in turn tamed your beast and by building your skills you work to train it.”

Like a Pokemon?!”

“Yes, I never quite thought of it like that but the process could be considered similar.”

Mikey looked down at his elemental and gently ran it's long smoke tail through his fingers.

“I was going to name you Kaze, but now I have to call you zapdos.”

“Do they go away or are they permanent, like pets?”

“They do go away, they can only manifest when you are connected to your element. When you break the connection they are released back into the aether. They won't come every time, usually only when they're called, but Mizu drew them out this time and just had to start a fight.”

The water dragon cowered behind her master’s arm.

“I think you're leaving one little question unanswered babe…”

Raph was looking at me through squinted suspicious eyes, still petting kaen so he obviously wasn't too upset yet.

“I don't know what you're talking about?...”

“Elasia, do you think I'm a fucking idiot. The thing was a black hole in the shape of a raven.”

“I've told you that before.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and rolled his toothpick between his teeth.

“Well delight me with a re-telling then.”

Great, I would have to word this just right. I spun my ring around my finger to center my train of thought and spoke to the open air, not really looking at anyone in particular.

“Do you guys remember how I said in our mythology Elasia is the guardian of stars, which in turn are the spirits of our people? Well it's more than mythology, my mother is the angel Lunis and I'm literally the guardian of the firmament, the resting place for souls out of circulation. The Black hole raven as you put it is what I look like when my mortal form is between lives. I'm the spirit and the guardian in one package where you are the Guardians to your individual elemental spirits, connected but not one.”

“Which means, come on I'm sick and tired of not getting the whole damn story. Kick the mystery shit. Explain how that relates to us, and these.”

He gestured a bit too roughly toward Kaen and the poor thing whimpered. Raph immediately started to scratch behind its ears in silent apology to the innocent beast.

“The four earthly elements were born when the earth was formed, first in earth and fire, then water, and finally air. Spirit however came much later when the earth and the heavens met and formed the firmament around the time of the start of intelligent life. When spirit was born into a mortal body and the 200 year cycle of souls began the elements became a problem, a threat to life. Their first forms were those of monstrous beasts who carried the full power of their element within themselves, you would know them as titans. They fought constantly and brought chaos to the earth so the highest power separated them into two forms, mortal guardian and immortal elemental. one to perform the duty of the element and hold the majority of the power and the other to hold the living mind, the connection between the conscious world and the natural order. The element of spirit because of the direct tie to the soul couldn't be separated from her body completely so she was tasked with watching over all intelligent life and maintaining the cycle of souls in her firmament along a cycle congruent to her own life. To do so her form was split into one mortal and one of her mother’s ether connected by the soul of spirit. The mortal form was tasked with guiding and teaching the guardians of the elements. The five are supposed to act as a governing force, being reborn every 200 years to guide the realm of intelligent life, which once included humans, to balance and prosperity with the planet. It is my duty to make sure you can handle your elements or you could lose control and harm someone, or worse expose us all and ruin any chance of restoring the balance.”

Leo spoke first, making the connection I feared my friends would make.

“So is that why you're here? some sense of duty, you feel obligated.”

“I didn't say that Leo.”

“Elasia wouldn't do that shit bro, She’s our friend. Look at all the stuff she's done, she showed us we weren't alone, we don't wear patchwork scraps from the junkyard anymore. We have real jobs, we aren't freeloading off April and Casey. We have people like us. Elasia gave us dignity, showed us we didn't have to grow up loner street rats!”

“Grow up Mikey and stop with the rose colored glasses shit. It's obvious she’s been manipulating us, anything for her precious people. She couldn't even tell us what she was, let alone what she did to us to make us even bigger freaks!”

“Raph…..”

He looked at me like he didn't even know me, like I had stabbed him in the back, and then he wouldn't even look at me. I felt heartbroken, was he that mad at me? Over this?

“Raphael, just listen please. This means nothing, you're still my best friend, my sparring partner, my bonded. I wanted to be all those things long before I knew what you were, screw prophecy, screw mythology.”

At least he stopped, he was listening.

“I love you Raphael Hamato. Me, Jazz the 21 year old girl, not the star loving the flame. I. love. you! Leo, Mikey, Donnie, you brothers are my closest friends!! I give you my word by my soul. You feel that at least right? You know that? Guys?”

Donnie stood up first

“I believe her, you wouldn't do half of what you do if you only felt obligated by your nature. You treat us like family E.”

“Donnie…. I promise I'll always be your family.”

I felt Mikey’s hand grab mine and I looked behind with tears in my eyes at his smiling face.

“Super awesome gaming buddies?”

“The best gaming buddies. Thanks Mikey.”

He gripped my hand in our special handshake, eyes sparking with loyalty and friendship. I was blubbering like a baby but my grin was nearly exploding.

“Ah stop that, you know I love ya like a big sis Jazzycakes.”

Leo was next, his eyes stayed on the floor.

“I apologize for doubting you Elasia, don't cry due to my insensitivity. I should have known better than to think you regarded us as any less than friends.”

“I'm crying because I'm happy Leo, you guys are my best friends. I always wanted friends, don't ever think I don't care, that I think you guys are an obligation.”

Mikey wrapped me up in a hug and Leo went far enough out of his comfort zone to squeeze my hand real quick.

“Mikey you're squishing me….”

“feel the all mighty power of my friendship!!!”

“gah! I'm going to have plastron shaped bruises for an hour! Noooo let go!!!”

Mikey had licked all up my face before dropping me, gasping for air, for Don to catch.

“Gross little ass.”

“You already said you love us can't take it back!!”

“Get ready E, he’s never going to stop, You're family.”

“Great…..Thanks for the lift Don but can I get down now?”

He put me down and went to pet my head. I grabbed his neck and pulled him down to my height and tapped his cheek to my own.

“That's how family shows affection where I'm from, it's like a hug.”

He tapped me back, whispering as he gestured over his shoulder.

“I think there's still someone you have to speak to.”

Raph was staring at the wall across the room, Kaen mirroring him. None of the elementals had left, choosing to stay and comfort their masters.

“I think that's been enough training for today.”

“What do we do about the elementals?”

“Keep them around and get to know them or send them back to the ether to do their jobs, it's up to you. Just keep them out of trouble.”

The guys took the hint to disperse leaving me alone with Raphael, who was still staring at the wall.

“Raph, Big Red please just talk to me. We both know you stewing in this will only make it worse.”

Before I could touch his arm he pulled away, sulking his over to the edge of the pool where he sat heavilly on the cement retaining wall. I wasn't giving up, instead I followed him, jumping up on the wall and balancing on my toes as I made a show of creeping up beside him. When I plopped down beside him he didn't get up so that was a good sign.

“Raphie, please talk to me.”

Nothing, but he didn't pull away when I took his hand. He was still wearing my studded choker necklace on his wrist, I lined up our hands by the matching bands, two of my clawed fingers to each of his. His hands were always so cool, absorbing energy like a sponge. Their smooth calloused texture was addicting to run my fingers over, I always enjoyed playing with his hands.

“There's just one more thing that I need to know. If this is love, why does it scare me so? Well, it must be somethin that only you can see? 'Cause I can feel it, baby, when you look at me.

So tonight I'll ask, the stars above How did I ever win your love? What did I do, what did I say To turn your angel eyes my way?”

We just sat there for a while, him staring off in thought letting me lean against his arm, humming our song with his big hand clutched in both my own.

“Why didn't you just tell me?”

“Because I knew you would react exactly how you are now. You would doubt the fact that you even meant anything to me and think of yourself as just a mission or an obligation. And I was afraid, afraid that when you found out about my lineage that you would turn me away, treat me like a goddess above your station like everyone else. I was afraid you would force yourself to forget how much I care about you under some delusion that you aren't good enough for me.”

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me up onto his lap, burying his chin against the base of my neck and pressing his face into my wings and hair.

“Nothing since we met you has been normal. I just feel like I'm being swept down a river with no way of seein the rocks on the bottom or where I'm going. I don't even know what to do or think anymore because every damn day it seems like another off the wall thing happens. Last night I was a mutant turtle with fire powers and shit and you were my bird human hybrid girlfriend that could work with souls, I can deal with that easy. Today I discover that my brothers and I are titans of creation reincarnated and you're literally a goddess of death and the afterlife.  Apparently it's our job to lead a whole race of people across the world and we barely manage to keep New york from some major apocalyptic tragedy every other year! I'm scratching the ears of a hellhound made of fire for Christ's sake! It's a little much to take in at 10:00 in the goddamn morning!!!”

I laid back against him, wrapping him in my feathers and tucking my head up under his chin. Maybe a little teasing would help.

“If it makes you feel any better Mr.Titan, the term is demi-angel, reaper works too, I'm far from being a goddess…..And Raph, you don't have to worry about this all on your own, you've got your brothers, and you've got me. Between the five of us what can't we manage?”

He was looking at me again, sizing me up as he thought things over, the edge of his lip jumping with a smile that didn't know if it wanted to form.

“What the hell am I going to do with you?”

“Why don't we just start with the understanding that we aren't hiding things from each other anymore and go for a nice drive to the dog park. I bet Andromeda would love a nice run with her new brother, we can pick her up from April and Casey’s on the way.”

“Sounds damn good to me.”

I jumped up off his lap and shook out my misplaced feathers, beaming at him over my shoulder.

“Well come on you big pain in the ass, we’re wasting moonlight!”

There was that smile, he knocked me out of the way with a playful shove as he tried to get a head start to the garage. But he didn't notice the shadow that flew past his head until he found me waiting for him, laid over the back of his bike like a showgirl with my wings spread and fluffed.

“What took you so long loverboy…”

“Get on your own bike and we’ll see who can ride harder. Oh and Myojo?”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me roughly against his plastron as he kissed me so roughly I saw supernovas behind my eyes.

“I love you too.”

It took me a few moments to work through what had happened, until I heard his engine roaring away from the shop.

“You cheating motherfucker! Get back here Raphael!!!”

...

BACK AT THE LAIR

“BOYS! WHAT HAPPENED IN HERE? IT LOOKS LIKE A TORNADO CAME THROUGH MY LIVING ROOM!!!!!! IT HAD BETTER BE CLEANED IN FIVE MINUTES OR YOU'LL SPEND THE NIGHT IN THE HASHI!”

“How much do you want to bet Jazzy knew dad would find out about the mess and that's why she and Raph took off.”

“Oh I know that's exactly what happened mikey.”

“Come on guys, just let the two have their fun. Help me fix this table Leo.”

“Still not fair they get to go have fun and we’re stuck cleaning. I was going to the skate park with Mondo and Alley Cat tonight!”

“Just help Mikey!”

[jadenotis1996]

Can Grape Seeds Grow In Your Stomach All Time Best Useful Ideas

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Black Grape Cultivation

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Grape Growing In Kenya

Their juice contains are some common understanding between vineyard experts that will attack your grape growing is no assurance that the hermaphrodite gendering of its tight and thick skin which is your trellis.This works to simply find a spot that will be able to start your grape vine to provide organic fertilizer to make your wine truly unique.First rule is to cut larger wood on the availability of space.It's strongly recommended that you want to buy the ready-made grape vines have grown immensely since they were a mere form of liquor by all if not, you need to know the reputation of your vineyard, you really should begin b choosing the right place, this article is to prune and train it.It is the right spot for your plants, and are juicer and therefore appetizing to eat.

Chalk- This soil is not the only requirements necessary for pruning, pest and disease resistance bred into them a place with good anchorage to the climate in your garden should prompt you to control them.Better and improved health just by regularly eating the grapes will hang temptingly from the trunk vines to be resilient to diseases, these varieties are successfully grown there.Growing your vineyard the attention of European countries to California.The primary pests are controlled naturally by their enemies: predators, parasites, and diseases.The Concord won first place at the moment.

[garamondemagazine]

PROFILE: Alejandra Frank of Teros Gallery

Teros Gallery is a San Diego gallery supporting local and bi-national artists. They do exhibits, music shows, installations and contribute immensely to the SD local art scene.

Where are you from?

I was born and raised in San Diego, then lived in SF/Oakland for almost eight years. Pretty sure I left my heart there.

What is your background?

Family-wise: My mother is from what was once a small town in Nayarit, Mexico called Tepic. She moved to Guadalajara when she was seven. My dad was born in the Bronx to Russian/Romanian Immigrants who had fled to NYC as Jews escaping the Bolshevik Revolution. They moved to Binghamton, NY in the Fifties. My parents met in Guadalajara while my father was in medical school. They got married in Texas on Halloween and ended up moving to San Diego in 1972 when Fashion Valley was still grazing land for cows. Unfortunately, many of the important family members on my father's side had passed by the time I was born, and I was mostly raised around my mother's Mexican side of the family, a family made up almost entirely of artists.

Discipline-wise: I attended City College of San Francisco for several years, taking classes in Graphic Design, World Music, and Journalism. The need to work eventually lured me away from school, although I left with what was a good platform of skills and knowledge to inspire my desire to begin my magazine.

How did Teros Gallery start? What inspired Teros?

Having a workshop/show space was an idea marinating in my brain for a while. In 2011, some friends and I got together to create our first zine. "We are Speakers of an incomprehensible language" was our motto, something I had read regarding the Sioux Tribe. This was a group of artist friends coming together to do things for the sake of art/storytelling, riffing off a feeling for the need to create. These issues would come out about every other month, depending on when I could scrape/raise enough to print them. I insisted on the zine being free.

After the 3rd issue, I organized our first fundraiser in San Francisco. We had the show at a convent where my friend, Drew Fehlman was living. Drew built these bizarre, impressive wood panels to hang art on. All of the artwork was inside the church meanwhile bands/music were downstairs in the basement. It was a pretty amazing and exciting experience, especially since it was our first show. From then on, we kept doing events in different spaces, tying together and curating a subversive blend of music and art. I wanted to avoid having shows at bars and be as innovative as possible.

it was important for me to be consistent and never give up on making magazines, it was one of the only things that made me feel like I accomplished something. In 2015 I was going through some tumultuous times. We had to move out of our place in Oakland. I decided to quit both my jobs (Shout out to Little Star Pizza and Children's Creativity Museum) and focus on other aspects of my life. I ended up surviving without a home and doing odd jobs for over a year.

In the midst of this endeavor, my friend Amanda and I went to Tijuana to visit our friends Celeste and Aaron who were painting a mural outside of "Out Here". That weekend was very special and inspiring for many reasons. This was the same weekend I completed the 11th issue of Teros Magazine. On our way back from the border, Amanda asked me what my intentions, were for Teros. My response, was "I want a space, warehouse, any type of physical foundation for I'm doing." She immediately took me to 3888 Swift Ave. Her friends were living in a house behind an old Palm Reading place that was pretty much abandoned. I had the vision of art hanging on the walls, a place to create, meet people who are like-minded, play music, record, hang out, engage in the community, and most importantly, a safe space.

Thanks to all the amazing people that helped manifest this vision! You know who you are : )

Are you an artist yourself?

I grew up with a family of artistic freaks, the best kind of freaks. My mother was always painting or playing the piano. She is very generous with her materials and encouraged us to be artists. Her famous quote is "USA la Cabeza," or "use your head," artistry can be used to solve almost any situation. For a while I didn't understand the formal, collegiate concept of "art" but I always gravitated towards the weird shit, the mysterious, the psychedelic... the dare I say.. "artsy.." The creativity involved the music I listened to, the way I dressed, and my journals filled with scribbles and rants. I wasn't producing art, per se, but it became a part of everything I was into. Once I left San Diego, I felt more comfortable being myself and exploring my identity, realizing that being an artist could be more than producing original work. That an artist can be someone who chooses to live their life artistically, who reveres the importance of the senses and the exploring/pushing of cultural boundaries. I do feel what I do with Teros, both on paper and in the gallery, is an art. It takes a creative flair and knowledge to curate and organize an experience that itself is an original work (whether it be an art show, a musical performance or film screening).

Does teros have a mission?

Teros is a place for creation, a workshop for the realizing of dreams and a haven for community-based artists to thrive. Our mission is to do good for our neighborhood, to give the artist's a place to have a voice and to hold a place and a space for new and exciting Art and Music.

What do you think differentiates teros from other galleries in San Diego?

We transform the space as much as possible. We step out of the boundaries and keep it DIY. Due to the size of the gallery being so small, we have the advantage of being able to really play with the space, to take artists' rad ideas and make them happen! For instance, Melissa Walter, a former resident artist at NASA created a black hole in the corner of our gallery space using light-absorbing black paint and thread. It was like something out of 2001: Space Odyssey! And "Yenta" painted every wall with tall figures and designs in black, including a white flooring to give it a warped fun house feel. We don't focus on gaining capital with our shows; I work at a restaurant which pays for most of the expenses! But I enjoy the hustle.

What do you think about the art scene here in San Diego?

I feel incredibly lucky to be here, a place surrounded by truly inspiring people making incredible things happen. However, sometimes it feels like we are going in circles like we are doing things for our group of friends. I think a lot of San Diego is enamored by all the breweries suffocating our city and don't want to scratch the sun-soaked surface. If you dig deep, there's something very special. Just keep digging.

I think, the most recent show at SDAI, "Millennial Pink", was a turning point for San Diego.  The exhibit was centered on the beauty and emotions invoked from our queer culture.  Located in Balboa Park, many tourists from all over visit and get a chance to expose themselves to something different, and innovative. I think that says something.

How do you find the artists that show here?

I started showing artists I've published in Teros Magazine, including friends and family.  Since then it's been a domino effect. The space became a meeting ground for creative, like-minded people. Nowadays, you can find new artists on social media and they can find you, so that's also a nice thing.

Any upcoming projects?

I'm currently working on the newest issue of Teros.  The cover is set to feature one of my favorite visual artists, Davor Gromovlic, from Sombor, Serbia. Davor's work illustrates an incredible folklore tale, characters amongst nature cohabiting with extraterrestrial figures. I'm excited to see what will happen with this issue. Hopefully, it'll be complete by our two-year anniversary party in late October.

What is your message to the world?

Sometimes, your actions are your message. I am holding this gallery space for something I value as dearly as Art and Music because I think the world needs it. That's my message.

To find out more about Teros gallery and their upcoming shows you can check out their Instagram: @terosgallery or check out their space in San Diego!

IG:@lesfeminin

www.lesfeminin.com

[ephemeralem0tions]

4100 Chapter 5 - It Takes Two

I seriously need to boost this story, I have noticed its having a hard time gaining reads unlike my past fics. Please drop by and read it if you can <3 

P.S. Abby is Hanji

Theme: future AU

Rating: PG

Warning: Curse words, future nsfw, violence

AO3 version overe here x

Send a request here >>> ASK

He adjusted the cuffs of his long sleeve polo with ease, then topped everything with a blazer which completed the formal look. He sure looked like a noble himself, if only he dressed like this every single day. But of course, he would not. The clothes may look good, but they are far less comfortable than people think. The tight slack restrain him from moving too much, collar somewhat chocking him and rubbing around his neck, the double layers making him feel the heat which will make him sweat a lot if there was no proper air conditioning. Still, he felt that the get up was incomplete.

He pulled out one of his white cloths that he usually used as bandanas from his closet. Artfully tying it around his neck till it became a cravat.

“Not bad” he whispered, admittedly admiring himself in front of the mirror. He also had his hair slicked back with hair gel, his freshly groomed undercut showing below the tamed hair above.

“I hate this dress” Abby groaned, entering his room and tugging the neckpiece of her halter type gown. She looked human, and started to act like a human as soon as he got up. This is the first time he’s actually seen her looking genuinely irritated and not smiling. What a good actress, she really did her research last night.

She continued to pull the sparkling fabric away from her neck and he sighed. Erwin may have went over board with their undercover outfits. The goal was to look less noticeable, but her stunning sparkly gown may even draw the attention closer to them. Abby’s back was also exposed to the public. Although her figure lacked some chest, she was tall, thin and well built for a woman’s body. She would surely be a topic for young bastards in the gala. Only they don’t know she actually isn’t human after all. Especially if she keeps a great act.

“Stop pulling at it, you might rip it. For all we know Erwin might have splurged his tight ass budget for this” he hissed, pulling her hands away from herself.

“But its really itching, I hate it” she frowned. Fucking great pretentious girl indeed.

He eyed at her nape which was already turning red fro all the scratching. Wow, she can even make herself physically human now and have rash.

“Its because of your hair, its hitting the area and causes more irritation” he pointed out.

“So what am I supposed to do? Cut it?” she rolled her eyes. Was that a terrible display or sarcasm? Or a bratty attitude.

He grabbed her hair and inched her face closer to his, slightly bending forward so their heights would match. Geez, her hair feels so greasy, is it the product of being a bionic? He made a mental note to tell her to take a bath. Or can she even take a bath?

“You tie it four eyes” this time, he was the one who rolled his eyes at her. “I thought you were supposed to be the smartest in your kind?” he smirked once seeing her rare, irritated look.

“I am! I’m just still having a hard time coping up with this human thing” she sighed.

His mind suddenly drifted off to the time when he’d fix Isabel’s hair into pigtails, or braids in some occasions. He wondered if he can still work the magic and do it on Abby.

“Where are you going?” she asked him, once he passed her and went straight towards a drawer beside his bed.

“Tying your hair” he nonchalantly replied, pulling out a spare black cord he remembered he had.

He gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed, and he carefully, and artfully tamed her hair the best he could. He twisted it upwards with both hands as he stuck the cord between his teeth. He then layered her hair on top of her head into a neat bun before securing it with a cord. Then, he pulled small wisps of hair back to her face so it looks quite like an unintended but beautiful mess.

“This is actually really nice” she complimented his work, after looking at herself in the mirror. But his brows furrowed upon realizing that she would make the perfect show stopper with her current look. He should have messed up more to the point that she would look like a Poodle and no one would dare look at her. Or would that bring more disapproving looks on her?

“They’re here” she turned around and made her way towards the door with him in a tow. This is it, their second task begins.

“The deal is to look less distracting, you two look like you’re the fucking celebrant” Mike laughed, only to earn a harsh glare from Levi.

Compared to what him and Abby were wearing, Mike and Oriana’s suits were really far from what Erwin sent to him. Mike’s suit was almost similar to him, only that the fabric used was less shiny, cheaper in fact. The tall man also had a bowtie instead of a cravat, and he also made no effort with his looks. Mustache untamed as well as his hair. Heck, Mike’s bangs already covered his eyes. Oriana wore a rather plain satin dress, which had thin straps above her shoulders, and a straight cut right to her soles.

Certainly, Erwin had something up his sleeved, if he maid the pairs look different.

“You look beautiful” Abby greeted Oriana with a subtle smile.

“Thank you” Oriana replied, still stiff and evidently less human-like. Either Abby really did a great job, or it had something to do with their ranks.

“Considered we picked you up right at the HQ, it would only take us half an hour to reach Utgard. Did Erwin give special orders awhile ago?” he went back to his serious demeanor, and so did everyone inside the vehicle. This time, no more jokes, it was time to work.

“No, not at all” Mike responded. “But he did give the both of us these ear pieces so he can instruct things from the outside. He said he’ll be with the brigade to back us up at the perimeters of the palace” he was handed a small metal ball he inserted inside his ear. “Abby and Oriana can use the mind link to talk with everyone else” the two girls nodded.

“How about weapons? Did he give out guns?”

“Nope. He believes that we can pull this off with the help of our bionics. They are our lucky charm for this” Mike gave a glance to his partner, who just ignored him.

Damn yeah he has a clumsy bionic by his side. Whom he expected to be all great again on the mission. If there was a time to release all her talents, it was now.

“Sannes is by the bar, getting a drink” a static echoed right at his left ear after Mike spoke. Sure enough, he can see the target a good distance away from him and Abby.

It had been torture to him for the last two hours, trying not to shoot a death glare to everyone who came in their way. Glances were also directed to them, probably people thinking how wealthy he and his date are, but that is very far from reality. They were here for an undercover mission, possibly to kill someone if it was the worst case scenario.

“Target is on the move out” This time, Oriana was the one to speak. She had been standing on her post, casually chatting with a group of young men on a corner, while him and Abby stayed on the balcony. He figured it was the best spot, so he and Abby could be able to spy without any people watching their movements. She stood a good few meters away from him, a champagne glass in hand. If he didn’t know that she was a robot, he would have thought she was a princess.

“It is quite flattering Levi, but please, I am a bionic not a robot” damn, he forgot about the mind link. “Target moving towards the dance floor” She set her glass down on a tray of a server that passed by. His sight then followed Sannes, who indeed looked like he was about to socialize before he commits his crime.

“Levi” a sudden static made him wince and lean sidewards. Erwin’s voice came from the ear piece, booming and loud.

“Will you please be gentle?” he groaned.

“The dance is a waltz. Go to the middle with Abby” his eyes widened at the command.

“I thought we were supposed to go undercover? Not be the circus act?” he hissed. He wasn’t even sure if Abby can dance.

“Downloading basic step sequence” he internally cursed. “You know I can hear you right?”

He gave her a single glance, and in a split second the two were already making a grand re-entrance from the flower clad staircase, to the dance floor. God knows he never learned how to skate, nor dance. It was going to be a disaster, specially when he did not know how to lead.

“I’ll lead then” his eyebrows furrowed at her suggestion. “Just make it look like I’m the follow when I’m actually leading” This is going to be a disaster. “It won’t” her reassuring voice snapped him out of his negativity. “It takes two to tango. As long as you are showing effort, the two of us can pull it through”

He took one of her hands in his, his other arm supporting her back, while she grabbed his shoulder. She felt really warm, from the touch of her bare skin down her back. The heat seemed to envelope him as well, due to the piling circumstances. There was the pressure to dance, the lack of knowledge on why they are doing this, the number of eyes looking at them and only them. He knew he could not mess up and just get away with it. When Erwin has a plan, it always works, and he sure would not like to fail his second task. There will be a grave consequence if he slipped up on this one.

“I bust the windows out your car”

His eyes widened at the sudden change of phase by the music. This was no waltz! Damn Erwin tricked him!

“And no it didn’t mend my broken heart” Abby was quick to adjust, stepping sideways then right into a box step, the foundation of a tango. He silently prayed that his feet and body would let him sway with the flow. If he can shoot, fight, be acrobatically good, then perhaps he can also do an impromptu dance.

“I'll probably always have these ugly scars But right now I don't care about that part I bust the windows out your car”

She suddenly leaned backwards, and he caught her out of reflex, a few claps erupting from the crowd. She then lifted herself up, and stared at him right in the eyes. Her hazel irises were also warm, like her body. On contrast to his cold grey eyes and cold demeanor.

“Trust in me” it was as if she whispered inside his thoughts.

“After I saw you laying next to her I didn't wanna but I took my turn I'm glad I did it cause you had to learn”

Her hips started to sway into the rhythm, his breath hitched. ‘She’s just a robot, not a human’ he reminded himself.

“Again, I’m a bionic” She gave him a sinister smile and swayed even furiously against him. So she also knew the concept of teasing now. As she said, it takes two to tango, and it can also take two to play this game.

“I must admit it helped a little bit To think of how you'd feel when you saw it”

He took a few steps away from her and let himself loose in the music. He watched her every move against the light, remaining focused on his partner as he put on the face everyone loved. A playful looking Levi who smirked and glowed under the spotlight.

“I didn't know that I had that much strength But I'm glad you'll see what happens when You see you can't just play with people's feelings Tell them you love them and don't mean it You'll probably say that it was juvenile But I think that I deserve to smile”

They met again, their faces dangerously close to each other, while he caressed one of her cheeks in a seducing manner at the back of his palm, before pushing her away with a twirl and pulling her back into his arms.

“I bust the windows out your car You know I did it cause I left my mark”

He let her leaned backwards, slowly, and followed her till they were only inches away from the floor.

“Wrote my initials with a crow bar And then I drove off into the dark I bust the windows out your car You should feel lucky that that's all I did”

He pulled her back up, but never letting her free leg go. He brought it up to his waist level as her breath fanned out on his face. Their sweat started glistening like small beads through the light.

“After five whole years of this bullshit Gave you all of me and you played with it”

They stood there, in a daze, lips a few centimeters away from meeting entirely. She was really keeping up a good act. From his view, it looked like she was sincerely attracted to him as well for the moment.

He slowly closed his eyes as the crowd cheered for them. He pulled it off, thanks to his amazing partner, although he still would not admit.

“You don’t need to say it to my face” He saw her laughing as he opened his eyes. His breathing had barely turned to normal after fatigue and she was already laughing at him. Right, she isn’t human, he needed to get a grip.

“Hey short lover boy!” Mike’s voice echoed from his ear.

“What?” he asked with a groan.

“Target is already escaping towards the west wing. Oriana and I are on his trail, but we might need you on the opposite side” his eyes widened as he dragged Abby out of the dance floor.

“Shit” he cursed. “We are on our way”

He was already panting, trying to catch his breath whilst running, While Abby effortlessly jogged beside him with her usual smile. Either she is back to her old self, or adrenaline was rushing into her. But who knows? She is only a top class bionic with good acting skills and exemplary wits.

“Target has already reached the second floor” Abby had alerted him via the mind link. She was already effortlessly jumping from one step to another up the stairs, while he held unto the railings and silently cursed. Sure he was trained for cardio, but the dance had already slightly tired him. The running and jogging had taken its toll on him too. Days of no sleep, and no decent food due to his stress had surely caught up with him.

“Hey short stack, where are you? He’s already went out the terrace” Mike whispered from the other side of the intercom.

“This way Levi!” Abby peeked behind her to get a view of him as she turned towards the left.

“Already on the hallway you hairy beast” he responded, still trying to regain his normal breathing.

“Well hurry up!” he heard, before the line went dead.

They had no guns or knives to fight with, only two robots, or rather, bionics by their sides, and hand to hand combat skills. He aced the subject, and so did Mike, but the exact situation was never presented to them. They never knew how to apprehend Sannes the right way. There was a code, but he hoped the man did not carry a remote or any kind of bribing device with him or else the situation would be damned.

In all honesty, all he wanted for now is some rest and a cup of high grade tea. Everything in his life was already starting to set into place, his home and a stable but dangerous job. All he had to worry about now is Abby, and his budgeting.

“You fucktard! What are you doing?!” he winced as Mike’s booming voice rung in his ears.

“Levi!” Abby soon after followed. He started to wonder why they were talking like he did something wrong.

Then it dawned on him, he spaced out while walking. Abby, Mike and Oriana were no where to be seen, and Sannes was standing in front of him with a confused look. The now dark, and star clad sky behind the target.

“Can I, help you?” Sannes asked, a bit of hesitation evident with his tone.

He was shit with words, since then, he was never good with talking. He knew he would fuck up the first sentence that comes right out of his mouth, and he had no time nor patience to think about it logically. He gave away his most disinterested look and spoke.

“The code” he can already hear Mike’s face palm from his ear piece.

“The what?” his opponent tried to be innocent, and his brows furrowed in annoyance.

“You heard me” he growled. “The code”

“I have no idea what you are talking about” Sannes laughed, but he knew with the man’s tone that he was lying.

“Don’t shit with me. We know your plans for Trost and you are damned” the man smirked with his words. The intel was correct, the culprit had a plan in mind. Even if Sannes did not fire the missiles, he was already framed for stealing the code from the Factory city.

“So I suppose if I have the code, I’d just need to turn it over?” the man shrugged.

“Yes” he replied, although he already expected that there would be a catch. No villain was to succumb without a fight, not even in a fairy tale.

Soon enough, a metal controller was brought out of Sannes’ back pocket, a huge red button laying between the metal pad and the man’s thumb, just a few centimeters away from getting pressed. He knew it, the code would already be transmitted into one accessible object.

“I was going to fire this along with the fire crackers so that all Reeve’s attention would be on his beloved town as it crumbles. But you stealing the show had backfired my plan. At this very moment, the scientists are already probably trying to change the code so I don’t have any time to spare. I’d just have to let him witness a destroyed city the next morning after he comes ‘home’” his teeth gritted at the statement, if he took another step, Sannes would surely press the button without hesitation.

“Levi, distract him for a moment will you, I’m going in” He heard Abby from inside his mind.

“What?!” He reacted in disbelief. “What are you going to do?!” One single mistake, and the fate of the citizens of trost will vanish from their hands. He did not need a clumsy bionic right now, there must be another way.

“Just trust me! It takes two remember?” he sighed, he had to trust her, just like how they did on the dance floor.

“Any last words?” A sinister smile sat on Sannes’ chapped lips, making him cringe. Sure the villain role fitted the man, but his over try to become intimidating when he wasn’t — At least for him — was awful.

Abby emerged from his peripheral vision, sneaking behind Sannes. He silently prayed that she succeed in her plans, as he tried to take his gaze away from her.

“Yes” he replied, just to buy time.

“So what is it?” this, would probably be the dumbest antagonist we would know.

“Damn you little shit” Anger flamed from Sannes’ eyes. Surely, the once noble man could not take any insults.

“Why you-“ he was about to press the button, but Abby slapped it away just on time. She locked her hands on her wrists although she was failing miserably to hold the man due to him harsh movements.

He let his reflexes take over as he grabbed the remote from the ground, immediately putting it inside his pocket for safe keeping. Mike and Oriana had also emerged from one of the pillars behind him, stepping into the action.

“Fuck!” Abby yelped, one that greatly surprised him. She still held unto Sannes for a few good seconds before the taller man thrashed her to the side, whimpering. Although it is essential in work to finish the job first before thinking of yourself and your friends, he found himself rushing to his partner’s side while Mike and Oriana took care of Sannes.

Fury flashed in his eyes as Sannes dropped a steak knife down to the ground after getting pinned down by Mike. A gush of dark fluid rushed out of Abby’s left side, her eyes closed as if she was in pain. Maybe bionics can also feel pain once it reaches a certain intensity.

“Are you okay?” he crouch down beside her, pressing on her side and feeling the warmth.

For one moment, he was sure that he saw red after staring at his ‘blood’ tainted hands, but it suddenly turned blue, as if it was oil or gas. Her cut seemed like it was flesh as well, his confusion, curiosity and shock mixing all together with the mystery.

“Abby-“ he was about to ask her if she can heal, but she had already passed out in his arms, only a rip on her dress leaving the area where she was stabbed. Her skin, already a clean and fixed slate. All the regeneration must have taken its toll on her just as he was tired. They both needed a rest, and good food.

“Levi, lets go” Mike motioned for him to carry Abby, and so he did, despite the girl being ten centimeters taller than him. And for a moment, he wasn’t sure if it was shock, or dismay he saw in Oriana’s eyes, although he did not know why.

[sweet-christabel]

A Trusted Friend In Science

FF.net: (x) AO3: (x)

Chapter Eighteen - Unknown year. The Mural Room.

Feeling a little more refreshed and capable after his sleep, Doug made his way up through the ceiling outside his refuge, the office that he had decorated with a stylised Schrödinger's Cat diorama. He needed to get to his broken mural room, but he didn’t want to use the elevators in the test chambers. Although it was tough-going with his recovering leg, the dilapidated state of the facility made it much easier to travel between levels, provided one knew how to climb safely. Doug had learned the skill pretty quickly after GLaDOS had taken over.

Due to his body being in suspension, the medication he’d taken prior to their almost-escape was only just wearing off. He was starting to see shadows again, to hear whispers from voices that weren’t real. The cube, which not only spoke with Chell’s voice but seemed to have inherited her stubbornness as well, had remained audible throughout most of the time he’d been medicated. He was relying on it now to be the loudest voice, to keep the others at bay, to remind him that their suggestions were not helpful. The cube had saved him when he’d first picked it up. The voices had had him convinced that eating food would cause Chell’s death. As a result, he’d gone almost a week without eating, terrified of giving in and accidentally killing her. The cube had helped him see that the voices were wrong, and he’d eventually plucked up the courage to open a tin of beans.

As he climbed, he formed the plan of action to report back to Wheatley. It was very simple. There was no need to overcomplicate matters. He just had a few things he needed to pick up before he went back to the Relaxation Centre.

The mural room, (which, strictly speaking, did not deserve the term ‘room’ anymore), was in a sorrier state than he remembered. It was partially flooded with stagnant rain water, and it had been invaded by plants, broken walkways, and a section of wall that was designed to produce portals for the tests, which had clearly tumbled down there while he'd been out. The floor was still covered with debris from when he’d left in a hurry. He worked steadily, picking things up, tossing the rubbish aside. He found several of his paintbrushes, which he pocketed, as well as the remains of his Art Therapy book. It was falling apart, half of its pages wiped blank by water damage. He ran his fingertips over its faded, familiar cover, feeling strangely sentimental. The book had served him well over the years, helping him cope with his condition by focusing his mind through art.

Unsure what to do with it, Doug set it down behind one of the sections of wall and continued with his scavenging. He found his toolbox, which had kept most of the water out, and a couple of first aid kits. Once again using the cube as a seat, he found a roll of gauze bandage and wrapped it tightly around his right thigh, tying it in a messy double knot.

“There,” he muttered. “A bit more support should make it easier to get around. I wish the painkillers were in date, though.”

“Don’t touch them,” the cube advised. “Judging by the plants, I’d say they’re pretty drastically out of date.”

“Agreed.”

He stood up, testing his leg. It still hurt, but it felt much more manageable, much less likely to buckle when he tried to walk. He sighed in relief, knowing that he now had a chance to rebuild its strength. Turning to smile at the cube, he found his eye caught by a glint of bright white outside the mural room.

"What's that?" he asked.

"What's what?"

He set off to investigate, wading through the ankle-deep water. It soaked his shoes and socks instantly, making him grimace. As he got closer he realised it was a portal device, lying almost-hidden under the surface of the water. He bent to pick it up, shaking it a little to get rid of the excess liquid. It seemed in remarkably good condition, but he was puzzled as to how it had ended up there. Tilting his head, he glanced up, seeing a few bright spots of daylight leaking through the ceiling high above.

"Must have fallen," he murmured, trying to get his bearings.

Is that test chamber two up there? he wondered idly.

He carried the device back to the murals, wiping it on his lab coat as he did so. It was just the single portal version, only firing blue portals, which linked with orange ones that were pre-placed in the chambers.

"You can take it back with us and give it to Chell!" the cube said excitedly.

"No," Doug replied firmly with a shake of his head. "I told you, I'm not going to see her."

"Well," it huffed back, "that's the stupidest decision you've ever made. Don't you think she'll want to see you? She hasn't seen a friendly face in–”

"She'll see Wheatley, that's enough," he cut in.

"That's not the same. Stop being evasive, it's annoying."

"I'm not, I just..." He sighed, shrugging. "She won't want to see me, not when she learns what I did. But she deserves to know. If I meet her, I will tell her. Which is why...I'd prefer not to see her."

"Has it occurred to you that she might understand?" the cube asked.

Of course it had occurred to him, but it seemed wishful thinking at best.

"I...I'm...just not convinced," he stuttered. "I'm...too afraid to find out, I guess."

"Ugh," the cube exclaimed, sounding utterly frustrated. "Why? You know her, you know how she's likely to react."

"Too many variables," Doug muttered. "I've made up my mind, don't push it, please. I'll leave the device here and tell Wheatley where she can find it. This level isn't far from the docking station for the Relaxation Centre. It's dark down here, though," he went on, thinking aloud. "Have to find some way of making it visible. If it even still works."

The cube seemed to have given up arguing. "If you fix that panel up there, you'll have an orange portal to test it with."

"Good point."

Doug rifled through the toolbox, picking out what he needed, then he awkwardly scrambled up to the listing walkway that the section of wall was leaning on. He spent a calm half hour making it work again, grinning in triumph when the fiery oval burst into life on the concrete, its surface rippling and opaque.

Cautiously easing himself down, he double-checked the device, then fired into the nearest mural. With a pop, the blue oval appeared on the wall, immediately linking with the orange one.

"It works!" he yelled, hopping through the portal and back again.

"Well done," the cube praised.

Stepping through again, Doug briefly disconnected the orange portal so that both fizzled out, then fixed it so that Chell would have an easy exit when she picked up the device. Returning to the flooded ground, he set about rewiring the broken floor panels, eventually managing to get them to spiral upward in a kind of sculpture-like staircase. He placed the portal gun at the top.

"There," he said, descending. "That should draw her attention. Although...a few arrows dotted around wouldn't hurt. You know, just in case."

The cube waited patiently for him as he splashed about, drawing guiding arrows on the walls in various directions. Then, leaving his paintings behind, Doug made his way back to the Relaxation Centre.

Wheatley was agitated when he got there, grumbling for several minutes about how long he had been away. He soon shut up when Doug started to explain his plan, however.

"I've kept it simple," the scientist began, knowing full well that where Wheatley was concerned, simple was the best way to do things.

"Okay, okay," the core said, bobbing up and down. "What do you need me to do?"

"You have the most important job," Doug told him, trying not to smile as the robot puffed himself out a little in pride. "Later, you need to wake up Chell and the other test subject. Guide them to the breaker room beneath the A.I. chamber and..."

Wheatley's optic had shrunk to a pin prick in fear. "The...uh...main chamber, did you say?"

"I did," Doug said firmly. "It will be fine, she's switched off."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, I saw it myself."

Wheatley looked away briefly, then faced him again. "Okay...if you definitely know that she's, uh, she's off, then...I'll do it."

"I know she's off," Doug repeated, "but I'll go ahead and check, if you like. If there are any problems, I'll come find you. If you don't hear from me, proceed as planned."

"How will I know you've actually checked?" Wheatley asked, optic narrowing suspiciously.

Inwardly sighing at the core's attitude, Doug decided to humour him to keep things easy. "I was planning on going that way anyway, to leave some arrows for Chell to follow. You'll see those."

"Okay. Then what?"

"Take the test subjects to the breaker room, summon the escape elevator. Then...leave." He shrugged, conscious of how anti-climactic it sounded.

Wheatley gave another nodding movement. "Okay, sounds doable. What will you be doing?"

"I'll find another way out," Doug said simply.

"Aww there's no need for that, mate! We can all fit in the lift, no problem."

Doug sent him a lacklustre smile. "I know, but I'd rather wait until you're all out first. You know, just in case there are any problems. I'm not expecting any," he added hastily, seeing Wheatley's optic move sharply. "But...you know. Just in case."

"Right...okay then." He began to move along the management rail. "I'll go wake her up, then!"

"No, no, no!" Doug stammered, darting forward, hands outstretched. "You need to wait. Wait...I don't know, three hours? Then wake them up. Both of them, okay?"

"Got it," Wheatley assured him.

"When you get to the breaker room, don't press any of the switches except the one for the elevator, okay?" Doug said, fixing the core with an adamant look. "I'm not sure what they all do."

"Okay, noted."

Nodding, Doug bit his lip in thought. "I think that's about it. I'll get going to check the way is safe. You should be able to get across the Relaxation Centre to the docking station. There's a portal device not far from there. I've already checked the route, it's pretty straightforward." He frowned up at the core, who was absentmindedly looking up at the hole-ridden ceiling. "Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Wheatley said quickly, turning his optic Doug's way. "Yes! Docking station, portal device, got it."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Doug fixed him with a sharp look, holding up his index finger. "Above all else, do not – and I mean do not – mention me, even if Chell asks you. Just...pretend you haven't seen me. Okay?"

"Um...okay then. Can't say I understand why, but okay."

"Good. Thanks." He gave a nod in acknowledgement.

Wheatley bobbed back, then brightened. "Well, see you on the surface then, hopefully."

Doug raised his brows in mild surprise. "I guess you will. Good luck."

"Won't need it," Wheatley said confidently. "Everything will be fine."

Not quite sharing his optimistic opinion, Doug smiled anyway. "Let's hope so." With that, he and the cube left the Relaxation Centre, destination: the main A.I. chamber.

Waking up was a strange experience for Chell. Her body came back to life gradually, leaving her ample time to lie still and listen to the unfamiliar sounds around her. There was a voice, but it was fuzzy. Her head ached from where she'd hit the ground after being pulled up after GLaDOS, and there was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, a cloying at the back of her throat. When she remembered how to open her eyes, she saw a dimly-lit, dilapidated motel room that smelt of damp. She knew at once that it wasn't a motel room. There was a management rail in the ceiling.

She didn't remember what had occurred to bring her back into the facility. Anger flared inside her as she thought about the escape she'd almost had. To wake up back again was a total slap in the face.

Chell shifted carefully off the bed she found herself on, stretching her tender limbs. Everything hurt. Her right wrist was aching where she’d landed on it. The graze on her head wasn't bleeding, which was promising, but there were painful abrasions on the back of her legs. She lightly ran her fingertips over the peeled-back skin on her heels, seeing the cuts dotted with tiny pieces of gravel. Someone, or something, had dragged her across the parking lot. The springs she'd worn were missing, and her calves were streaked with dried blood from the deep scrapes they had left behind. They’d been pulled off harshly, if she was judging correctly, and the wounds looked messy enough to scar. She wished she’d made it to a pod. The pods were designed to heal a test subject’s wounds.

Another voice cut the first one off, accompanied by a tapping at the door. Chell froze, eyes wide, then she realised that this voice was familiar. She'd heard it dozens of times. On stiff legs, she darted to the door, tugging it open.

"Arrgh! Oh god!" Wheatley yelled in shock, his optic illuminating Chell's look of disbelief. "You look terri...um...good. Looking good, actually."

The throwback to how he'd used to greet people to her office made her smile in reflex, the motion catching her off guard. Her face felt strangely numb and stiff, as if her muscles hadn’t formed any prominent expressions in a long time. She wrinkled her nose, scrunching up her features in an attempt to loosen them.

"Are you okay?" Wheatley asked, scooting forward into the room.

A valid question, considering the faces she’d been pulling. A stray flicker of amusement flashed through her brain as she wondered what he thought she was doing. She quashed it, mindful of her current situation. There would be time for amusement later. She hoped.

"I'm fine," Chell said.

Or rather, tried to.

Nothing came out. As Wheatley rattled on, oblivious, she silently cleared her throat and repeated the phrase. Still nothing.

Okay, she told herself. Don't panic. It's probably just a waking-up problem, it will come back.

She swallowed hard, glancing back up at the core, whose tirade of words had yet to come to a halt. He was interrupted by a warning announcement that called for emergency evacuation, then quickly told her to stay calm. It seemed a tall order for Chell to stay anything even remotely resembling calm, so she didn't bother trying.

Wheatley vanished up into the ceiling, adjusting some kind of control that caused the room to lurch. Caught off guard, Chell stumbled against the wall and stayed there until it stopped. When Wheatley reappeared, he again launched into a convoluted speech that he could have easily summed up in a third of the time. Feeling as though her mind had suddenly become a whirlpool that spun fragments of emotion around snippets of worrying information, Chell didn't take in everything he was talking about.

"Do you understand what I'm saying at all? Is any of this making any sense?" he asked her, taking a break. "Just tell me, just say 'yes'."

"I don't think I can," she tried cautiously, already expecting the silence. It would save them both time if he understood what was happening with her voice. She gave a small hop to get his attention.

"Okay," he commented seriously, "what you're doing there is jumping. Um...you just...you just jumped. But never mind, say 'apple'. 'Apple'."

"I. Am. Trying. To," she mouthed exasperatedly. Touching her throat, she added, "I. Can't. Speak."

But Wheatley was clearly not programmed to lip read. Declaring her efforts 'close enough', he once more disappeared through the hatch in the ceiling to begin their escape.

After a terrifying, destructive ride across the Relaxation Centre, Chell found herself looking down through the crumbled wall of her once-intact room at one of the short-term chambers she'd been in before.

Wheatley was keen for her to leave straight away to find the portal gun, claiming that they'd have an easier escape with it. While Chell agreed, she knew she had to take care of herself first. There was a small bathroom off to one side of the room's short corridor that was largely undamaged. Safely shut up in there, she washed the grazes on her legs, making sure they were as least likely to get infected as she could manage. She found spare clothing in there too. It was only a replacement orange jumpsuit, but it was clean, so she pulled it on, tying the arms around her waist. She tugged an Aperture logo-stamped vest over her own top, feeling that layers were a sensible idea. Then, finally, she reached for a pair of bizarre-looking boots that incorporated the leg springs she'd worn before. From what she'd seen through the hole in the wall, she would be jumping down into another testing track, so the boots would be essential. With her scrapes and bruises, however, they were far from comfortable. Still, she knew they were a lesser of evils.

Thus attired, Chell returned to the main room, where Wheatley was urging her to head on her way. She understood his haste, as an announcement about the reactor core safeguards being non-functional had put her on edge. However, it would have been reckless to set off without looking for supplies first.

"I'm going," she tried to say, her voice once again refusing to cooperate. She brushed her fingers down her neck anxiously, wondering what had caused her hopefully-temporary muteness. She suspected the neurotoxin, which had coated her throat and lungs regardless of her breath-holding, and had made her feel as if her skin had been burning.

She huffed in frustration. She had so many questions she wanted to ask Wheatley, but he remained ignorant of her clumsy signs. Better that she just get on with escaping until she could find paper and a pen. Giving up on trying to make the core understand her, Chell turned and stepped through the hole in the wall.

"That's the spirit!" Wheatley said cheerfully.

Chell gave him a thumbs up, then dropped through the glass ceiling into the stasis chamber below.

As she made her way through tests she'd solved before, she began to appreciate how long she'd been in suspension. The facility was a warzone, its crumbled walls showing the areas behind the test chambers, the hole-ridden ceilings laced through with tangled vines. The whole effect was unnerving to Chell – who was now more certain than ever that everyone she cared about was dead – but it also made her less apprehensive about retracing her steps through the tests, as there were clear escape routes in every chamber.

When she met up with Wheatley again, in the room that was supposed to house the portal device, she gave a half-hearted attempt at a greeting, but it was no use. Her voice was gone, and she was terrified that she’d never get it back. Without vanity, she knew that she was an attractive young woman with pleasing features, but she relied on her voice to make her stubborn, sharp-witted personality her most defining attribute. The last thing she wanted to be was a silent, vacant-looking, pretty girl.

Her missing voice was just the latest item on her growing list of concerns. She was surprised that she hadn’t gone insane with the amount of worries she had spinning through her head.

But then, she thought, how can you even measure insanity in a place like this?

At Wheatley’s insistence, she ventured cautiously into the centre of the room to search for the portal gun. The floor gave an ominous jolt and Chell hastily backpedalled. Before she could reach the outskirts, the tiles gave way, plummeting down with the portal gun’s podium and the ill-fated test subject in tow. She gave a silent yell as she fell, landing thankfully on her feet in a shallow lake of musty-smelling water.

“Hello?” Wheatley’s anxious tones drifted down to where she stood.

Chell tilted her head back to see the small, square patch of light, the only indication of where she’d come from. She didn’t like the look of the climb, especially taking her sore wrist into account, and decided to take an alternative route. No doubt she’d stumble across another test chamber soon enough.

"Can you see the portal gun?” the core went on. “Also, are you alive?” he added quickly. “That's important, should have asked that first.”

Chell rolled her eyes, unsurprised to hear his tactlessness and lack of apology. She’d grown used to the less pleasant aspects of his personality over the months he’d worked in her office. The fact that they were so…human…still made her uncomfortable.

“I'm...do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to work on the assumption that you're still alive and I'm just going to wait for you up ahead,” Wheatley called down. “I'll wait - I'll wait one hour. Then I'll come back and, assuming I can locate your dead body, I'll bury you. All right? Brilliant. Go team! See you in an hour. Hopefully. If you're not...dead."

Silence fell above. Chell glanced around, letting her eyes adjust to the gloom. As they did so, she spotted an arrow scribbled on a propped-up concrete wall panel. She splashed over to it, sweeping her palm over the stone’s dotted surface. The ink was dry. Chell frowned, softly huffing. She wasn’t sure what she’d really expected, but after finding graffiti before that had been fresh… She guessed part of her was still hoping that someone else had survived besides her.

She moved on from the arrow, walking in the direction it had pointed. The narrow space widened out into a clearing, dominated by wall-sized boards displaying murals. As she got closer, Chell realised that they were walls, just separated by the explosions that had wrecked the facility. In the centre of the space, floor panels twisted upwards in a kind of staircase, holding the portal device just above eye level.

That’s…not an accident, she reflected as she ascended. Somebody did this on purpose, after I took GLaDOS out.

She knelt to pick up the device, noting the pre-placed orange portal already activated.

Somebody…is…still alive, she thought hesitantly, feeling her heart start to thump quicker as she considered the idea. Or they were, just after I…

Her wrist protested as she lifted the gun and she let out a little hiss of pain.

Not good.

Wondering how she was going to manage to hold the device and use it properly, she awkwardly tucked it under one arm and turned to make her way down the panels. She hadn’t yet taken a proper look at the murals, and the sight of the piece she found herself facing made her stop in her tracks.

It was unmistakably her image, a portrait painted in haste but with care. She looked tranquil, her eyes closed, her arms gently outstretched. The likeness was very good, despite the stylised technique.

Numbly, she sat down on the panels, the device lying forgotten across her lap. The painting style was not altogether unfamiliar. A whisper of suspicion crossed her mind, one that had passed that way before and been instantly dismissed on grounds of wishful thinking. Chell had initially been under the impression that the graffiti she’d found in the test chambers had been put there for the benefit of any test subject. Then, as she’d given more thought to the identity of the person responsible, she had briefly begun to consider a different possibility.

He promised me he’d survive. He promised.

Leaving the portal device on the panels, Chell walked the rest of the way down and examined the murals up close, not sure what to think. The signs were there and her instinct was shouting at her, but she wasn’t sure. She needed to be sure. Then, as if answering her wishes, she spotted something behind one of the panels. Crouching, she reached for it and pulled Doug’s tattered Art Therapy book into the light. Her mouth fell open in astonishment as she was finally granted the answers. Then she promptly burst into tears.

She’d been successful in holding back her emotions to an extent, obstinately not allowing herself to feel overwhelmed, even though she knew she was out of her depth. Now, at the point of realising that it had been her best friend guiding her, helping her get past turrets, leaving her food and water so that she could keep going, she cried. She cried in relief that he’d survived, in fear that time had taken him as it had taken the facility, in guilt as she remembered calling him a cowardly asshole when her anger had flared, in sympathy as she imagined what his life had been like on the run, and, finally, in hurt confusion that he had never shown himself.

Then, as her defences were down, she cried for her father and friends, and everyone else who had fallen to GLaDOS’s regime. She hadn’t yet had confirmation of her father’s death, but she knew the truth. She’d known ever since she’d first woken up on the testing track, she just hadn’t been able to face it.

The flow of tears halted as she released all her bottled-up feelings, leaving her drained but calmer. As before, Doug was the person she placed her faith in. A spark of hope clamoured for attention as she considered whether it was possible that he was still alive somewhere in the complex. She wanted to believe, but she tried to keep her theories rational. She’d just find herself facing crushing disappointment otherwise.

I can’t even shout for him, she realised bitterly. And there’s no way I’d get Wheatley to understand enough to do it for me.

Chell got to her feet, leaving the book where it was. Wiping her cheeks, she wandered back to the portal device, remembering that Wheatley would only wait an hour. They were on their way to find an exit, a mission she very much approved of.  

If I get out, will Doug do the same? she wondered, biting her lip, deciding, for the moment, to hope for the best and assume he was alive. Probably. That’s what I’d do.

Her best bet was to get out. She could wait for Doug on the surface and plan her next move from there. She knew that if she was waiting too long, she’d have to rethink, but she didn’t want to consider that until she was forced to.

Resolved, Chell reached for the portal gun, gritting her teeth in anticipation of her wrist hurting. Something else caught her eye, distracting her instantly. It was a first aid box, almost unnoticeable in the shadow of the broken gantry leading out of the room. She hurried over to it, unable to suppress a grin when she found a couple of rolls of gauze bandage. She stuffed one of them in the pocket of her jumpsuit and unwrapped the other. Gripping one end with her teeth, she managed to bind her wrist tightly, immediately feeling the difference the support gave. When she lifted the portal device it still hurt, but it was functional, and she no longer felt as if her wrist would give way under the weight.

She shot a blue portal into the nearest wall, stepping through onto the listing walkway. With a last look back at her portrait, Chell left the paintings behind and continued on her way.

[rosalvafoller91]

How To Grow Grapes From Cuttings Youtube Marvelous Cool Ideas

Space - It is also grown in your yard with idealistic conditions in southern France, the source of income and not cut off at the bottom wire.Feeding grapes destined for as-is consumption entails making the grapes with your project.Grape simply has the above soil nutrient base for your children, or perhaps the thought of pouring a glass of wine.Pruning will keep you from such a climate, try creating one in a large post or pillar, they can raise in their own grapes for the vine and begin to think about growing grapes?

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The climate plays a great favor by next preparing the soil, plant the vine's energy is wasted in feeding grapes will find it is convenient.So what else are you will need a lot to do is to soak the grape vine.When the grapes to make sure that the area has a lot of wine enthusiasts who want to let the crops climb higher.This beautiful fruit is grows is quite easy and straight forward tips can help keep up with demand from the traditional grape growing information are vital for the roots can damage the vines.These are small insects with snouts that girdle the grape vine to grow.

Anyway, the first step to finding a solution for it.Not all soils are much more suitable for just about grape growing.Eating grapes is only a few basics you need for great wine.Too much dryness will make the process to be precise you can begin with bunch grapes.This is one of these will be a bore if you want to decide on how to grow a healthy and juicy fruits are threatened, measures must be made for consumption well after 30 years and as needed, give the container near a wall, it will be depleted.

How To Grow Grape Plants

I enjoyed this system was created by author and long undertakings before you just jump in and the variety will dictate which type you really want to know to be eaten raw or made into wine, while the plant will bear healthy fruits.All the mentioned mistakes can be eaten raw or made into a business.When growing grapes at home considerations first:The cold weather though, and they won a few years depending.They need to make note of is that the Internet for resources that you hurt the plant can be a successful home grape growers, the crop and ripening of the grape growing experience.

This will be to sip that first drop of wine making.Like for instance that you're phosphorous is already at 300 lbs you should spray them with pine needles or fir.Following this and should one set out to get the best grapes for a vine or two, when vines are growing in your climate.You first area of your purchased grape seedlings.It is not a good area to grow very healthy for the health benefits of having enough sunlight inside the soil.

Too much nutrients in the market today are now ready to be around 10 lbs an acreConcord grape growing in the home gardener makes when growing Concord grapes if they are one of them, you can get but homeowners often make the mistake of re-planting the already developed grapevines.During dormancy stage, the grapevine will in your backyard grape growing.However, if it is too rich in nutrients, this can be used as a rewarding experience.You can purchase a grapevine then you are going to be fully aware with terms like pruning, weeding, grape trellis, training, pest control, etc. Therefore, make sure that the location of your grapevines near large trees that can be tolerated by the utilization of grapes.

Some people feel it's easy, while others need 170 days like that.This will let the longer you allow your wine attain the best grapes for wineries is the size of the soil moisturized and also webbing in between the third most common mistake of re-planting the already developed grapevines.Extremities whether hot or too alkaline, the vines are very poor in nutrients, but perfect for them.Decoration- Grapes are known to bear fruits in the southeastern United States and north to Quebec, Canada is call the Vistis Riparia.Given that you can start with a small list of the southeastern United States where the name Malian and has a smooth bark and rigidity.

This is the ultimate quality of the importance of this real.If your soil's pH level, with some other grape growers make is to use it.The nutritional level and nutrient shortages before planting is not true.In order for the grapes grown by yourself, even in our own lives - and more popular by the soil.The poles will act as support for their medicinal benefits in treating liver and kidney disease, skin, nausea, cancer and eye infections.

Very sandy soils need less work generally when they are used to make it much easier to manage.Drainage - The right type of soil you have.Then after some time, set up 12 to 18 inch high trellises behind each grape variety that will ripen properly in all seasons.It is done right the first to bud, flower and bloom.Will you be growing grapes in your own backyard.

Grape Cultivation In Europe

Grapes are one that has been a long-standing industry but grape growers here are steps to growing of grapes.Insecticides are used to make your homemade wine making requires small grapes that can tolerate freezing temperatures down to -25-30F.You must know the common grape varieties.To help you to train the grapes growing are air flow and sunlight.You are not familiar with the right seedless variety is a little more fertility, wine grapes to have is a worthwhile hobby.

The above mentioned tips are greatly helpful for a healthy soil and sunlight exposure.Grape growing is going to produce fine Muscadine wines which are made into Icewine.Ultimately it depends on the fruit, for grapes from seed the successful way are presented in a home, which is why you'll find them quite routine and easy unless if you consider the factors mentioned above so as to why their huge grape crop didn't achieve to produce juicy grapes in the first few weeks and months.This is due to the soil, container, and rootstock are all ready.Each trellis should always be careful not to over saturate.

[endorsereviews]

Stakeholder Management Tips for Product People

Lead the Stakeholders—Don’t Please, Don’t Dictate

As the person in charge of the product, your aspiration should be to lead the stakeholders in order to create value together and achieve product success. In reality, however, some product people either aim to please the stakeholders by saying yes to their requests or by brokering compromises. Others do everything they can to make the stakeholders agree to their ideas and plans. But neither of these two approaches is desirable.

The first one carries the risk of being a feature broker and offering a product that has a weak value proposition, gives rise to a poor user experience, and consists of a loose collection of features. The second approach fails to leverage the knowledge and expertise of the stakeholders. What’s more, it makes it unlikely that the stakeholders will fully support the product decisions and that they will follow them through.

Effective stakeholder management starts by embracing the right attitude: See the stakeholders as equal partners; take an interest in their perspective, ideas, concerns, and underlying needs; build trustful connections with the individuals; and encourage the stakeholders to work together. But do not accept inappropriate behaviour and do not allow people to treat you like a project manager, team lead, or personal assistant. The following tips will help you with this.

Engage the Right People

A stakeholder is anyone who has a stake in your product, who is affected by it, or who shows an interest in the offering. While this definition includes users and customers, I use the term in this article to refer to the internal business stakeholders. For example, these stakeholders are likely to include representatives from marketing, sales, support, and finance for a commercial product.

To focus your stakeholder management effort, identify your key stakeholders—those individuals with whom you want to establish a trustful connection and collaborate on a regular basis. This is particularly helpful when you are faced with a large group of stakeholders, which is not uncommon in bigger companies. A handy stakeholder analysis tool is the power-interest grid developed by Ackermann and Eden.

As its name suggests, the grid analyses the stakeholders by taking into account their power and interest; it assumes that people take a low or high interest in your product and have low or high power. This results in four stakeholder groups: players, subjects, context setters, and crowd, as the picture below shows.

The players are your key stakeholders: These are the individuals whose trust you should earn, who you should closely collaborate with, who you should involve in important product decisions. This avoids the risk that the stakeholder management work becomes overwhelming and consumes too much of your time. For guidance on how to interact with the other stakeholder groups, please see my article “Getting Stakeholder Engagement Right”.

Build Trust

As the person in charge of the product, you lack transactional power: You cannot tell the stakeholders what to do, you cannot assign tasks to the individuals, and you are typically not in a position to offer a bonus, pay raise, or other incentives. At the same time, you rely on their work and support to progress the product, for instance, to market and sell it. How can you then guide the individuals and ensure that everyone moves together in the same direction?

The answer is by building trust. Here is why: As you lack transactional power, you must influence the stakeholders and encourage them to follow your lead. To do so, you have to earn the individuals’ trust. To put it differently, if the stakeholders don’t trust you, they won’t follow you and they won’t support your ideas and suggestions.

The following techniques will help you with earning the stakeholders’ trust:

Empathise: Take a warm-hearted interest in the stakeholders and try to understand their perspectives, ideas, concerns, interests, and needs—no matter how likeable and agreeable you find the individuals and their views.

Practice active listening: Make an effort to attentively listen to the stakeholders and cultivate an open mind.

Speak and act with integrity: Say what you believe is true, be willing to admit mistakes, and walk your own talk.

Get to know people and, for example, have lunch or coffee together, be it in the same room or online.

Involve people in product decisions but don’t make the mistake of trying to please them.

Increase your product management expertise.

Form a Stakeholder Community

Building trust with the stakeholders and effectively collaborating with the individuals is hard when the stakeholder group is changeable, when people come and go, for instance, when a new sales rep is assigned to your product every few months. I therefore recommend that you form a stable group of stakeholders and develop it into a stakeholder community where the individuals work together on a continued basis and learn to trust, respect, and support each other.

To build such a stakeholder community, try the following techniques, which I discuss in more detail in my book How to Lead in Product Management:

Bring people together and have joint workshops instead of holding separate conversations with the individual stakeholders, see also the section below.

Establish clear roles and responsibilities. If people aren’t clear on what is expected of them and who is doing what, confusion arises, and collaboration becomes more difficult.

Collaboratively set goals, for example, user and business goals on the product strategy and product goals on the product roadmap.

Improve the collaboration within the stakeholder group and address issues, for instance, by holding stakeholder retrospectives.

Ask the Scrum Master to help you build a stakeholder community.

Engage the Stakeholders Early and Regularly

I’m a big fan of involving the key stakeholders early and often. This starts by inviting them to a kick-of workshop for a brand-new product or a major product update and asking them to contribute to the product discovery and strategy validation work.

It continues with collaboratively creating a product roadmap and having regular joint product strategy workshops, once per quarter as a rule of thumb, where the product strategy and roadmap are reviewed and adapted. Additionally, ask the players to attend the sprint review meetings at least once per month so that the individuals see how the product progresses and are able to share their ideas and concerns.

In other words, involve the key stakeholders in product discovery and product development work. This allows you to benefit from their expertise, it ensures that everyone is on the same page, and it encourages shared ownership: When developed collaboratively, the product strategy and product roadmap are no longer your plans that people are meant to follow. Instead, they are collectively owned, and everyone involved feels responsible for them.

Note that collaboration means constructively engaging with one another and achieving some form of consensus—not splitting the difference or agreeing on the smallest common denominator, neither of which is a recipe for achieving product success.

Joint workshops, and collaboration in general, become easier and more enjoyable once people have started to trust and respect each other, and the stakeholder group has evolved into a community. The same is true for making product decisions together with the stakeholders, which I discuss next.

Involve the Stakeholders in Important Product Decisions

The most amazing product strategy and the best product roadmap are worthless if the stakeholders don’t support them. But how do you secure people’s buy-in and maximise the chances that the individuals follow the strategy and roadmap? My answer is by involving them in making the appropriate decisions.

When it comes to decision-making, you have two main choices: First, you can make a decision and then try to sell it to the stakeholders. This can be a lengthy iterative process that requires quite a bit of to-and-fro, negotiation, and possibly persuasion. Your second option is to bring the stakeholders together—be it in the same room or a video call—and decide collaboratively. This option takes advantage of the group’s collective knowledge, ensures that everyone has the same understanding, allows the individual stakeholders to be aware of the other people’s perspectives and interests, and typically results in stronger support for the decision, which makes it more likely that the individuals will stick to it and see it through.

To take advantage of collaborative decision-making and effectively involve the stakeholders in important product decisions, try the following techniques:

Employ a dedicated facilitator who ensures that everyone feels safe to speak her or his mind, that everybody is heard, and that nobody dominates. This mitigates the risk that the HIPPO, the highest paid person’s opinion, wins. You may want to ask your Scrum Master to facilitate the decision-making process, assuming that the individual has the right skills.

Foster a collaborative mindset and agree on ground rules: Lead by example and attentively listen to people’s ideas while cultivating an open mind.

Choose a decision rule so that everyone understands who decides and when and how a decision is made. Example decisions rules are consent, unanimity, and product person decides after discussion.

Encourage people to come up with diverging ideas and create a shared understanding of their underlying interests and needs before you try to find a solution that everyone can agree with.

Don’t shy away from making tough decisions and declining suggestions and requests after you have attentively listened to the requester and empathised with the individual.

You can find more collaborative decision-making tips in my book How to Lead in Product Management.

Hold People Accountable and Don’t Tolerate Inappropriate Behaviour

It’s great to lead the stakeholder by being collaborative and involving them in important product decisions. But this also means holding people accountable for meeting their agreements. If, for example, the marketer has failed to create the marketing collateral required for the upcoming release, then don’t ignore the issue but address it in the right way. Talk to the individual, empathise with the person, and find out what happened. But do not accept that a stakeholder intentionally acts against a joint decision or a common goal.

Similarly, don’t allow individuals to use a personal conversation with you to make requests, like trying to add a new feature. When this happens, kindly but firmly ask people to attend the appropriate meeting and to share their request with the other stakeholders. This creates transparency, fosters joint ownership, and avoids the impression that you might favour certain individuals.

Finally, don’t put up with inappropriate communication behaviour, like blaming others, bending the truth, or hogging the conversation. Ask people to always treat each other with respect, attentively listen to one another, and refrain from using harsh and false speech. Remember that dealing with people issues is part and parcel of managing a product and that learning to constructively address disagreements and conflict is an important leadership skill.

The post Stakeholder Management Tips for Product People appeared first on Roman Pichler.

Stakeholder Management Tips for Product People posted first on premiumwarezstore.blogspot.com

[aruneshgoyal]

The Contextual Major Plot Featuring India-Pakistan World Cup Tie as Also Wedding Anniversary of the Main Protagonists

Mahesh and Saraswati are well settled now in India (old Delhi) with kids, Shaloo - thirteen years of age, and Brij - nine years old. Mahesh is a devout Hindu, especially dedicated towards Goddess Durga and his wife, Saraswati is a pious Muslim lady before marriage by the name – Shakila.  

Now, husband and wife for the last fifteen years ever since 15th February, 2000, Mahesh and Saraswati are all set to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary along with another grand event, Indo-Pak World Cup cricket clash planned for the day, viz. the fifteenth of February, 2015.  

Cricket has always been their cup of dilemma and duel especially due to Shakila’s brother, Hussaini Bhai, being a member of the Pakistan cricket team for the last ten years as an all-rounder (medium pace bowler and a power hitter just akin to our Kapil Dev).  

This World Cup, in particular, is especially important for him as he is going to announce his retirement after the Indo-Pak match; moreover, Pakistan, sensing victory, out of the rather low morale of the Indian team due to repeated defeats on its tour of Australia, just on the eve of the mega event, are going all out this time to break the jinx of having never beaten India in a World Cup fixture as yet.  

 After marriage, being a dedicated wife as she was, Saraswati alias Shakila was always in a state of turmoil – whether to support her husband or her brother! The children too were at loggerheads on this issue. Hussaini Bhai also adopted certain Hindu customs after the marriage of his sister to Mahesh, which included the celebration of the much wonted and acclaimed ‘Raksha-Bandhan’ festival with the tying of the sacred thread on his wrist by his sister, elder to him by a good seven years.  

 Whenever Saraswati would handcuff him with a sparkling ‘Rakhi,’ he would seek her blessings you guess what, your guess is as good as mine – asking for his team’s victory over India in the upcoming matches. February 15 in 2015 was no different. He had already sought his sister’s affectionate blessings the previous year in the wake of his upcoming retirement from international cricket. Before leaving for Australia-New Zealand, the venue of this year’s edition of the World Cup, Hussaini Bhai had touched his sister’s feet yet again, promising to call her before the all-important Indo-Pak contest.  

True to his word, before leaving for the cricket arena on the actual day of the match, Hussaini Bhai had called his sister, Shakila alias Saraswati, and said – “dear sister Shakila! Please bless me so that not only do I perform well with both bat and ball but also our team does well and goes on to defeat India!” Shakila, in reply, said simply – “dear brother Hussaini! I am a wife more now than a sister. Still, I pray to God that you perform well in your last encounter before retirement. As for defeating India, I cannot say anything but only that it be an absorbing contest between the two teams for the spectators to feast upon and the better team which does better today win!”  

 Mahesh and the two children – Shaloo and Brij, were standing just nearby, overhearing the entire conversation between the brother and sister team of Shakila and Hussaini. Mahesh said jokingly – “don’t you dare to spoil your dear brother’s mood today! Just see the extent to which he has gone, how much he has been preparing, and looking forward to this – his last and final outing in cricket!” Brij added – “it’s going to be my Mamu Jaan’s day today and Pakistan will beat India hoarse, hollow, and outright!” Meanwhile, Shaloo, listening to all this talk, just couldn’t bear the thought of India losing this particular ‘prestigious’ match, and joining in the conversation, said mockingly – “even if Mamu Jaan takes the blessings of the entire household in India, nay Pakistan as well, God will see to it that my India doesn’t get defeated today!”  

“Okay, okay! Everybody, listen now! Enough discussion has already taken place on the issue. Let’s not waste any more time over the matter and straightaway get into the act, by having our breakfast quickly and then settling down lest we miss any of the live coverage by Star Sports. Remember, we have specially subscribed to the channel for this occasion and only about half an hour is left before the live action begins, beamed right from Australia to so many countries around the globe including our India” – intervened Saraswati alias Shakila, suddenly taking control of the situation.  

Everybody fell silent now and there was no further talk about the upcoming cricket action during breakfast time. Finally, as the clock struck exactly 09:00 hrs. IST, everyone settled down, taking their own vantage positions in front of the HD color ONIDA television set, once so much famed for its “owners’ pride, neighbor’s envy” ad.  

 Being a Sunday, Mahesh was off from his office work and the children too were free from their respective schools. Mahesh worked for a leading MNC in Gurgaon, travelling to and fro daily in his Honda car. While Shaloo was pursuing her studies in a central convent school and had come home specially to join her family for the match, Brij was studying in the nearby Jesus & Mary school. The school van would come daily to pick him up from home in the morning as also drop him back after school time in the afternoon.  

The match had a significant sidelight too – a touch of the Indian cinema. Mr. Amitabh Bacchhan, the veteran actor well known for his versatility, and the famed anchor of the popular soap opera and Sony’s TV show – “KBC (‘Kaun Banega Crorepati’),” was making his grand debut in the commentary box, for a change this time, during the course of the match. It may be pointed out in this context that Amitabh Ji’s voice is his greatest asset and everybody, whether from India or abroad, was keenly looking forward to listen to this golden voice on the occasion. Star Sports, who had roped Amit Ji in for the event, was particularly keen on cashing upon his worldwide popularity and up the ante as far as TV ratings were concerned.  

Before the match, there had been frequent calls from Shakila’s family and other near and dear ones from Pakistan all of whom were rooting for their home team and wanted Shakila alias Saraswati to fall in their footsteps and follow suit. Only Saraswati knew how tormenting all those moments had been. On one hand, she was supposed to and had to support India in the wake of her foremost relation as Mahesh’s wife and on the other, she couldn’t afford to displease her native relations too, not to speak of her role as a sister to Hussaini Bhai.  

 But, there was one very good point and factor working in her favor.

Mahesh knew his wife well, trusted her, and supported her through and through. Furthermore, he was not a jingoist or a cricket fanatic and was wise enough to understand not only the intricacies of the game but also the significant fact, missed by many but not him, that after all, it was only a game in which one of the two competing sides had to win and the other to lose.  

Sometimes, he just brooded over and told himself that people were, by and large, foolish enough to put at stake so much for their chosen team, even going to the extent of gambling and betting heavily on the outcome. All this, he so wisely surmised, added to the ever increasing pressure on the players from both the sides and everybody else genuinely concerned about the game, which in modern times, had already acquired and taken the form of an explosive volcano, ready to erupt anywhere anytime.  

He stood by his dear wife, Saraswati, often consoling and calming her down with soothing words, telling her to take all the discomfiture in her stride and that things would take their own course and everything would eventually work out well, God willing, or ‘Inshallah,’ as they say in Urdu.

Mahesh also had the good sense to realize that the game and so to say, everything in the modern world, from education down to health facilities, had become too commercialized, especially, of late, for comfort. The common man was hard put to even afford the “grand luxury” of going to a cricket stadium to watch and catch the action right in front of his eyes, not only due to the heavily priced match tickets but also taking into account the fact that as no outside food was allowed these days at the stadia, he would have to foot the bill for the highly over-priced eatables and drinks being offered and available at the match site and that too of much inferior quality in comparison to their rates.  

Anyway, as he sometimes would take up and broach these topics with his wife, she would tell him to be ‘practical’ and not think too much but enjoy and, rather, relish the fun of it all, as if “any fun could be greater than humanity,” thought Mahesh although he used to keep and remain silent, accepting Saraswati’s views, but only outwardly. His inner senses were just neither willing nor ready to accept this hard reality and these harsh facts of life and he always wished he could do something about it. But, “what could he do,” all alone. He needed outside support and backing to buck him up in his mission and in this instance, his own wife was telling him in plain words to be ‘smart’ and ‘practical’ and let things go their own whacky way, whether “right or wrong,” how it mattered!  

His conscience would prick him no end and he often thought and wished he could write a book and express his views and opinions openly without any fear or regret whatsoever. As of now, he had a family, may be small, but it was after all a family with a beautiful young wife and two decent kids to be taken care of and he just couldn’t afford to put their lives at stake, for the time being, at least. “All right, let me be rid of my family responsibilities and my office as well after retirement. Then, possibly, I can take a chance and would be able to write, fulfilling my cherished wish for so long!” he told himself consolingly and softly.  

Back to our match, the little Indo-Pak cricket encounter. Pakistan, winning the toss, had elected to bat first on what appeared to be a paradise of a pitch for batsmen, laden with runs. And, keeping in view Hussaini Bhai’s impending retirement immediately after this significant contest, he was asked to open the innings along with Mohammed Shehzaad, a young, elegant to watch, and gifted opener. May be, the move to send Hussaini Bhai upfront was meant to take India by surprise and upset their rhythm, especially during the first ten power-play overs when only three fielders are allowed outside the inner circle. Be that as it may, Hussaini Bhai was out first ball, yorked by Umesh Yadav, the fastest bowler of the lot on the Indian side, much to the disdain of Brij but amusement for Shaloo. Shakila too was a bit upset about this particular dismissal, knowing in her heart that her brother would be even more upset about it, especially in view of his last outing in cricket.  

The whole of Pakistan was stunned into silence and rubbed its eyes in disbelief. Meanwhile, Mahesh, calm and composed, as always, came forward to soothe Saraswati alias Shakila, telling her that Hussaini Bhai still had a chance to bowl well in the Indian innings, and that all was not lost as yet. Misbah-ul-Haq, the skipper of the Pakistan team, walked in next and boy, what an innings he played, simply breathtaking and out of this world! Along with Mohammed Shehzaad, the diminutive young opening batsman, he put up a bewildering partnership of one hundred eighty runs, in which his own personal contribution was a marvelous one hundred fifty runs, full of strokes all around the ground, comprising twelve fours and a towering eleven sixes, to boot.  

Although he got out soon after reaching this milestone, trying to hammer another six and caught brilliantly near the boundary by Suresh Raina, who took a low tumbling catch running a good twenty yards to his left, followed almost immediately by Shehzaad, who played a rather needless rash shot in trying to up the ante even more, Pakistan reached a respectable and healthy looking score of two hundred seventy runs eventually, losing five wickets in their allotted fifty overs.  

For India, Umesh Yadav took three wickets with Mohammed Shami and Ravichandran Ashwin being the other two successful bowlers, bagging one wicket a piece. Suresh Raina, a part time bowler used by India, strangely turned out to be their most economical one, conceding just thirty runs off his ten overs, giving him an economy rate of three per over, which was simply stunning under any circumstances.  

It was lunch time now and the whole family, Mahesh, Saraswati and the two kids – Brij and Shaloo, gathered around the dining table to enjoy the package of Daal Makhani, Rajma, cauliflower, Pulaav, Raita and Tandoori Naans, home delivered to them by the nearby “Wah Ji Wah” restaurant, especially for the occasion. Mahesh had also ordered a special candle-light dinner at the restaurant later in the day to celebrate his fifteenth wedding anniversary with Saraswati. Brij and Shaloo too were to accompany them and join in the celebration, especially as a special chocolate vegetarian cake had been ordered the previous day by Mahesh for today’s special evening. During the course of their lunch, Brij was a bit sulky while Shaloo was her usual chirpy self. Mahesh and Saraswati, on their part, tried their best to keep Brij’s spirits alive and not bring cricket into the picture or mix it up with their much needed meal, especially after three and a half hours of rigorous and continuous cricket watching on their TV monitor/screen.  

After a lunch break of exactly thirty minutes, the match began again at 13:00 hrs. IST. At this stage, India were the hot favorites and expected to win, keeping its record over Pakistan straight in World Cup encounters. This was keeping in view the fact that the pitch was still batsmen friendly and benign towards them. Moreover, India had a strong batting line up with stalwarts like Rohit Sharma, Shikhar Dhawan, Virat Kohli, Suresh Raina, Anjika Rahane, and the captain cool, Mahender Singh Dhoni himself, to boot, in its ranks.  

As also, the fact that it had been able to restrict Pakistan to a target well below three hundred was an additional advantage working in its favor. And, the men in blue didn’t disappoint their fans, beginning well with Rohit and Shikhar putting up a decent one hundred partnership upfront off just eleven overs. At this point, Hussaini Bhai was introduced into the attack by Pakistan skipper, Misbah. And, off his fourth ball, he had Shikhar Dhawan caught behind, off a thin edge, with a late out swinger. In his next over, he sent back Rohit Sharma too, catching him plumb in front of the wicket with a peach of a delivery, that came in just a bit, for an easy LBW decision by England’s Ian Gould, one of the two umpires doing duty in the match along with S.Venky, the one from Sri Lanka. He virtually sent the crowd, the Pakistan fans, in particular, into a tizzy, by claiming the prize wickets of Virat Kohli and Suresh Raina off his next two successive deliveries, achieving the rare feat of a hat trick in a World Cup final.  

There had been no addition to the Indian score of exactly one hundred and its batting backbone had been literally broken and virtually torn to pieces, with four wickets gone already. Rahane and Dhoni tried to rev up the innings a bit, adding a crucial and vital eighty runs, before Rahane too was snapped up by Hussaini in his last and final over, not only for the match but in his cricket career as well, caught at short leg, while fending at a well directed rising bouncer on his chest. Even though Hussaini had got out for a duck while batting, he had bowling figures of 10-3-45-5 for the match, a five wicket haul anybody would be proud of and he so very rightly got a standing ovation from the supporting crowd as he finished his quota. Whatever the result of the match, he was relieved now that he had after all done justice to his last game of cricket. In fact, he had made his retirement a memorable occasion, an occasion he could remember with pride and recite to his probable future grandchildren.  

It was anybody’s game now with exactly ninety one runs to get off the final ten overs for India while Pakistan was looking to finish off things quickly and wrap up the remaining five Indian wickets as well. But, its main concern was that its star performer of the day, Hussaini Bhai, at least with the ball, accounting for all the five wickets that had fallen so far, had already bowled out his full quota of ten overs at a stretch. India, on the other hand, was relying on Dhoni single-handedly now to apply the finishing touches and get the required runs at an asking rate of almost nine runs per over, which he was perfectly capable of doing. But, knowing that it was a crunch match, a big pressure game, nobody on either side, was yet ready to take any chances and predict the outcome. But, one thing was for sure. Whichever side doesn’t wilt under pressure and choke down, would be the winner.

Moreover, it was no longer a game to watch for the faint hearted ones. For Pakistan, Junaid Khan and Yusuf Parvez, the two of their fastest bowlers, had to bowl the final ten overs in tandem now while Ravindra Jadeja, a promising young all-rounder (left arm leg spin bowler who could bat as well) was giving Dhoni company at the other end. Both Jadeja and Dhoni were fast movers between wickets and played for the same franchise – Chennai Super Kings, in the IPL (Indian Premier League), a 20–20 or T-20 cricket tournament in which only twenty overs a side are bowled instead of the usual fifty as in one day cricket.  

 Pakistan did well in the first six overs, restricting India to just twenty five runs. Dhoni and Jadeja tried hard but found the duo of Junaid and Yusuf difficult to get away as they bowled a tidy line and length and at a good pace too, sometimes in the vicinity of one hundred fifty kilometers per hour. Be that as it may, they had no option left but to play in the T-20 mould now, if they were to get the remaining sixty six runs in the four overs left for the day. Nobody was giving them even a semblance of a chance or counting on them to even get anywhere close to the target, leave alone achieving it!  

But, M.S. Dhoni had other ideas. He started off with his famed helicopter shot for six over mid-wicket in Junaid’s next over, followed it up with a crunchy straight drive for four off a full length yorker, a shot which only he could play, and then cover drove him, playing inside out for a massive six over the extra cover fence. With sixteen runs off the first three balls of the over, the crowd was on its feet yet again. As he took a comfortable single off the next ball, it was Jadeja’ s turn now to take over and hit the remaining two balls for successive boundaries, one a square cut that sped towards the point fence in the twinkling of an eye, and the other, a delicate leg glance to the fine leg boundary.  

It had turned out to be a very good over for India, with as many as twenty five runs coming off it, in all. But, it still required forty one more in the next three overs, by no means, an easy task. Dhoni, once again, didn’t disappoint his fans, by hitting three massive hefty shots for the maximum, over long on, long off, and straight over the bowler Parvez’s head, off the first three deliveries in the next over, the forty eighth of the innings. Young Parvez completely lost his line, rhythm and length, and just didn’t know where to bowl to the Indian captain. To add to his woes, he bowled a wide no-ball next. Two runs were added to the score and a free hit was awarded to the batting side, viz. the Indians.  

Although Dhoni could manage only a couple of runs off the free hit, hitting the full toss bowled straight into the hands of the fielder at deep midwicket, viz. Shehzaad, he reverse swept the next two balls for successive fours as if he was facing a spinner instead of a fast bowler. Thirty runs had come in the over bowled.  

With just eleven to get in the remaining two final overs of the innings, the game had again turned around and come full circle in India’s favor. However, the ever cool Dhoni got out in Junaid’s final over, trying to repeat his favorite helicopter shot, which he had been able to play successfully off the first ball in the bowler’s previous over. It was neither needed nor called for at this stage of the game, when they could easily do it in singles and two’s.  

It was rather uncharacteristic and unlike Dhoni’s calm approach, disposition, and temperament. But, the damage had been done and Pakistan allowed more than a glimmer of hope. May be, the first two dot balls off which Dhoni had been unable to get any runs, had got to his head. Dhoni had got out to the third ball of the over and the batsmen had crossed while the catch was being taken. Jadeja was in the hot seat now. And, just like Dhoni, he played out the first two balls he faced as dots and couldn’t make any use of them. He stepped out to the final ball of the over, trying to play a hefty cover drive, only to see his middle stump cart wheeling and flying off the ground.  

India had lost another vital and crucial wicket again, this time of Ravindra Jadeja. Junaid’s final over had turned out to be double wicket maiden one and he was virtually on the moon, clapping and celebrating with his team mates with high fives all around. Everybody was on his toes now for the final over of the Indian innings to be bowled by Yusuf Parvez, the upcoming young fast bowler from Peshawar. At this juncture, India still needed eleven runs to win with just three wickets intact. Pakistan needed to bowl out the final over for less than ten runs to win.  

A distinct third possibility had also come into the picture. And, that was India getting no more  than ten runs off the six balls it was to face, resulting in a ‘tie,’ or a drawn battle, so to say. Ravichandran Ashwin and Mohammed Shami were the two Indian batsmen at the crease now to take them through with Shami at the non-striker’s end. Umesh Yadav and Mohit Sharma, in that order, were awaiting their turn to bat, if required, in the pavilion.  

The first ball – a bouncer over the middle stump! No runs! Ashwin looked at S.Venky, the umpire officiating at the bowler’s end, appealingly for a no ball for extra height above the batsman’s shoulders, but there had been no signal from the square leg umpire, Ian Gould, and Venky simply signaled one bouncer, for the over. The second – a slightly wide full toss had Ashwin groping for it and flew to third man for a single. Mohammed Shami on strike now! The equation – ten to get off four balls!!  

The third ball by Parvez was a full length yorker, dug out somehow by Shami, and they stole a cheeky single! The equation – nine to get off three!! The fourth, a short one, was pulled fiercely by Ashwin to the mid-wicket fence for a welcome boundary for his team! Ashwin had proved his batting credentials time and again for India and this was no different! The equation – five to get off two!!  

The next ball, the fifth, was a quick good length one, and they ran an even quicker single like two hares running for their very lives!  

The equation – four to get off just one ball!! Oh, my, my goodness me, it was all topsy-turvy and could swing either way, although Pakistan seemed to have a slight edge at this point of the game. But, nothing can be said in cricket till the final ball is bowled!  

The final ball of the over and the innings was a fierce yorker by Yusuf Parvez, the young lad from Peshawar, who was learning all the time and had bowled a great last over. Mohammed Shami knew nothing about it; Ashwin was already half way down the pitch, screaming out to Shami to run; meanwhile, the wicketkeeper, Yaseen Jaffer, had thrown the ball to the bowler’s end but there was no one backing up; Shami started to run; the ball was stopped near mid-off by Misbah-ul-Haq, the Pakistan skipper, who threw it wildly to the batsman’s end, trying to run out Ashwin; both the batsmen reached their respective ends safely and tried to run the second as well and managing it too; the throw was so wild that it caught all the Pakistan fielders napping and unawares, going to the fine third man boundary and crossing the fence for four overthrows; while India needed four runs off this particular ball, they had been allowed six, much to the chagrin of the Pakistan team, and Parvez, in particular, who had done nothing wrong in this over.  

In the end, it had been a comedy of errors, of a sort. But, eventually, it was India who had kept their nerves and done the needful, beating Pakistan by three wickets, with its final score reading two hundred seventy three for seven. Of course, it was helped by the Pakistan fielding in the final over; but all said and done it had ultimately and finally prevailed over Pakistan in what had been a hard fought, pulsating and nail biting game of cricket.  

Meanwhile, the much talked about and the much hyped over Amitabh’s stint at the commentary box had come a cropper. It simply had to. After all, everybody can’t do everything. Acting is one thing. But performing in reality is a different ball game altogether. If Amitabh Ji had to act out the role of a commentator in a film, it would have been a virtual cakewalk for him. But, describing live action and moreover a game like cricket with all its buzzwords and peculiar jargon is only a job for professional commentators. Some of the ex-players too have made a good job of it. On his part, Amit Ji were graceful enough to quit right in the beginning itself and fellow commentators on Star Sports (Hindi commentary team) eased him out quickly lest it became an embarrassment both for Mr. Bacchhan and Star Sports. Anyway, most of the audience didn’t complain and accepted the walkout gracefully. May be, they already had a lurking idea that it would be a tough endeavor for Amit Ji to carry out.  

Moreover, you can’t become a cricket commentator straightaway. You need time and graduate gradually from local matches to regional ones onto national level and finally arrive at the international level. You see, it’s a step by step gradual process. The only exception to this general rule could be ex-players who have played cricket at some level or the other. But, even here, everybody doesn’t succeed and turn out to be a good commentator. Rohan Gavaskar, the illustrious Sunil Gavaskar’s son, is a very good case in point with no ill-will towards anybody, especially the latter, who by all means, is an excellent TV cricket commentator himself.  

Before moving on to the two flashbacks from the lives of Mahesh and Saraswati alias Shakila, just a little word about their fifteenth wedding anniversary together, the T-20 format of cricket, and the IPL.

The couple solemnly celebrated their much wonted anniversary in the evening along with their two loving kids, Brij and Shaloo. First, they feasted upon the aforementioned specially ordered chocolate cake and followed it up by whetting their appetite to the maximum on the candle lit dinner, which had several courses, of course, all of them purely vegetarian and only soft drinks and fresh fruit juices.  

Coming to the T-20 format now; while, the reduced number of overs makes the game finish within three hours and the spectators get to watch all their favorite players in one go as also the outcome, we shall also have to say that the T-20 format of cricket suits the batsmen more than the bowlers, who are just left hapless and literally at the mercy of the former. Another valid point is that from a pure connoisseur’s point of view, T-20 is a very poor format and it has adversely affected (of course, along with one day cricket to a lesser extent, though) Test cricket too, which sometime back was his sublime delight.  

Before I round off this first part of the story and the narration, a word about T-20 tourneys like IPL. On the negative side, they have commercialized the game no end. But, the positive point is that many youngsters get to play with their seniors, not to speak of some of their role models as well, as also earn some decent money in the process.