#the bows on the third one i had to do myself and it was unreasonably fiddly to do 😭

[eunhos]

3 christmas cards & 1 birthday card i made !! 🥳🥳

[simsim54]

unpopular opinion

I firmly believe that Rhaenyra wasn't fit to be queen, not because she was a girl – that notion is just absurd. What people seem to have forgotten is that it's not one's physical attributes that determine their ability to rule, but rather their intellect, their morals, and their dedication to their kingdom.

Her most significant disadvantage was her father's incompetence. She would have had a better chance of reigning as queen if she had become Daemon's wife and he was named the heir. That arrangement could have been far more effective.

For those who argue that Daemon wouldn't be a good king due to his restlessness and chaos, I believe those qualities would have made him an excellent ruler. He wouldn't have allowed issues to fester for too long and would have actively worked to address them swiftly. Moreover, with two Targaryens and their pure Targaryen children in line for succession, there would have been no need for Viserys to remarry.

While I understand that Rhaenyra didn't want to marry, she had a unique opportunity to see her future kingdom. Instead of making strategic alliances and rallying supporters, she spent her entire tour sulking, akin to a child denied her favorite toy. Considering the era she lived in, where most women had no say in their choice of spouse, her insistence on picking her own husband seems somewhat unreasonable. Even her uncle didn't have that privilege. So why was she throwing temper tantrums?

Let's not even get started on the whole bastard situation, shall we? I mean, why would you even do that? Infidelity aside, the real problem was that the child didn't even remotely resemble you, let alone your husband. But here's where I think Daemon's true love for Rhaenyra shines through. He was willing to accept her bastards as future kings, which speaks volumes about his devotion. However, if we step into a more realistic scenario, imagine if Daemon returned from Pentos, saw Rhaenyra's children, and said, 'No way I'm bowing to any of them.' What if he decided, 'I won't bow to the Hightowers either. It seems I'll need to form a third party and claim the throne for myself, making my daughter the queen.' How different things could have been!

I can almost accept all the points above, but then her father passed away, her brother usurped her crown, and she allowed Otto Hightower to leave Dragonstone alive. I mean, seriously, what was she thinking? That man was the source of 80 percent of her problems, and she just let him go. There was a moment when I wished Daemon had said, 'I'm going to deal with him now and ask for forgiveness later.' That was one of those times.

If none of this had happened, and she had simply been crowned queen, Rhaenyra would have been a second Viserys. She would have spent her time trying to fill Viserys' shoes, just as he tried to fit into Jaehaerys' shoes.

-so this got a little bit out of hand, but these are just my opinions, so please don't judge me too much-

[axelssillystories]

The Lantern (2020)

The Seer stared into the machine, willing forth its dire visions. A golden glow entranced his eyes and infinite strands of light wove together to induce hallucination. Dreams overtook him, dreams of a time distant in an uncertain direction. Yet each flash of the people and places beginning, growing, and dying violently before his eyes bore a painful familiarity. He knew that he was watching the end of the world, and of every world conceivable. Trillions of winding paths through starry blackness converged on one point, one locus of unavoidable and profound catastrophe. It was the end of everything. 

Inhaling sharply, the Seer drew his face back from the device, a black metallic object which resembled a lantern. He thumbed the power switch to the off position. A deep sigh sounded to the Seer like it came from somewhere far off, but he knew it to be his own breath. His eyes scanned slowly across the familiar space of the little cabin in which he lived. Arcane totems and obscure texts cluttered the walls and the shelves and the table at which he sat. Books and codices were strewn about, left open to pages on topics that bore no logical correlation with one another. The curtains were drawn tightly shut. 

It hadn’t always been like this. The Seer’s home had been a place of order and peace. The cabin was the type of sanctuary he’d always sought. It had been seven weeks since he acquired the lantern, seven weeks of encroaching disarray. The thing was damned puzzling, and he had spent his recent days on a rotating schedule of manic study and long hours of half-sleep. Exhaustion weighed him and fear would not let him rest. 

Without thinking, he retrieved a hand rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it with a long match. The smoke was what kept him sane, he thought, or at least willing to live within the realm of madness. It felt as though not an instant had passed before he was through with one and smoking another. A third one satisfied him. He sat for a few minutes in relative contentment.

A loud, rhythmic knock sounded at the door. The Seer’s heart dropped and then fluttered, giving way to a steady pound. He grabbed an iron dagger from his table and bolted to the door. He swung it open with a violent jerk. 

“Gods below!” he bellowed into the face of the visitor standing before him, a tall man in a long, dark green coat and a broad brown hat. “You scared an old man half to death, you damn devil!”

The man’s sunburned, stubbled face was earnestly remorseful. He raised his hands like a man surrendering. “I do apologize, gray one. I intended no fright and I have no devilish business about me.” His eyes drifted to the dagger quivering in the Seer’s hand. “Please, venerable sir, there ain’t need for the knife.”

The Seer squinted at the man in the bright light of the summer day for a few moments, and lowered the dagger to his side. He took several deep breaths. “It is I who ought to apologize, traveler. I’ve not seen a soul in many days.” He chuckled and shook his head. “How else should a man announce himself but knock? I’ve become unreasonable.” 

The visitor smiled and waved his hands in dismissal of the transgression. “Think not of it, gray one. Does not every man’s reason lapse?”

“It is so,” the Seer said with a nod. “Pray forgive my rudeness, but what type of man are you? You speak well, but with the thick accent of an outland peasant.”

“No rudeness, wise man. I am a ranger from the outlands but I have traveled to many places and spoken with many esteemed scholars such as yourself.”

“Such as myself?”

The man paused and frowned slightly. “Are you not the sage Gyges?”

“I am he.”

The visitor grinned broadly and clapped his hands together with satisfaction.

“But who are you?” Gyges said. “And why have you sought me?”

“My name is Abner. Abner Longwake. At your service, I hope.” The man took off his hat

and bowed, then placed the hat back on his head. 

Gyges frowned. “I should hope so as well. Please, tell me your business.”

Abner cleared his throat. “Well, I understand that you are known for collecting and cataloguing various items of peculiar quality. It is one such item I seek, that I have been sent after.”

“What item? And who has sent you such a long way from any of the kingdom’s cities or towns?” A growing suspicion raised Gyges’ pulse.

“I am told it is like a lantern, an electric one that does not die.”

“Who told you of this thing?” Gyges clutched the dagger more tightly.

“I was told of it by the man who sent me.”

“And who’s that, boy? I dislike that you have not named him.”

Abner sucked his teeth and frowned. “It is a condition of my employment that I do not name him. And more importantly for us both, there is a further condition that I am to bring him the lantern no matter what, at any cost to property or human life.” He placed a hand on one hip, drawing his coat back to reveal a long barreled pistol at his side, still longer for the silencer attached to its muzzle. Abner gave Gyges a look of sympathy as he saw the fear in the old man’s eyes. “I must reassure you, the gun is not the only way to resolve this business. But I have brought it should verbal persuasion not suffice.”

“No devilish business indeed,” Gyges said softly. “You would kill me to possess this device of which you know nothing.”

“I would indeed. Would you die to keep it from my hands?

“I can see that I might. And I can see that I might not. We should talk of it first.”

Abner stood in silent thought for a few moments. “We may discuss it more. But while you appear uncertain, I must tell you that I shall not leave without the lantern.”

 “Come inside first, and hear my argument. You may be persuaded yet.”

Abner bowed, letting his coat cover the gun once more. “I thank you for the invitation. I’ll gladly hear you, especially in a place of shade.”

Gyges grunted and waved him in. He closed the door and opened the curtains, dispelling the darkness in the cabin. Abner looked about with mild interest at the many artifacts and oddities, his eyes lingering on the lantern in the far right corner. He took a seat on one of two wooden chairs at the table, and Gyges sat across from him. The old man had brought with him a clay jug and a pair of cups. They filled the cups with cool tea from the jug without speaking. After taking a long draft, Abner raised his cup to Gyges. “A fine refreshment, gray one. Perfect for a mighty thirst such as I have had.”

“Fine indeed for such a rogue as you. Most people would have served you piss.”

“And so I salute you for your exceptional grace.”

Gyges scowled and shook his head. “Let us dispense with banter. Your task here is unwise, and the thing you seek should not be in the hands of one who would kill to possess it.” He took a drink of tea. “I have studied the marvels of the world since I was a small boy, seen countless wonders of technology and old magic. There are a great many things I understand intimately which the average fellow would struggle to grasp on a basic level. Mathematics and history, language and law, alchemy and herblore. Many things that could snap a more feeble mind.

“But this thing, this alien machine...its nature and purpose escape my mind. Grasping its truth has been like catching not one but a thousand slippery fish with just my two hands.” He drained his cup and lit a cigarette. “The only thing I am truly certain of is that it is powerful. Whatever purpose it has must be served with the utmost potency...the strength of gods.”

Abner finished his tea and poured himself another cup. “Well, perhaps it may comfort you that the one who sent me has apparently divined some purpose for it.”

“That does not comfort, but disturbs. I have seen the visions that the lantern shows, and they are of devastation that cannot be properly articulated in the tongue of a mortal. A man with a use for that must be malevolently insane.”

“I was told that gazing into its light may have a bewitching effect.”

Gyges pointed at the lantern. “Switch it on. Look into the light. Try to explain to me what you see.”

Abner chuckled. “I think not, gray one. If it shakes you so then I can’t imagine what it may do to a simple fellow like me.” He drew out and lit a cigarette of his own. “And why should you so desire to keep it if it gives you such horror?”

“Desire? No. It is obligation which I feel. If I spend more time with it, gods know how long, I may be able to understand what it really is.” 

“Do you suppose that it’s worth straining your mind to its last fibers? To judge by the look in your eyes, it’ll drive you mad long before you grasp its mystery.” Abner’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “I can see it happening already. Your beard is gnawed and ragged and you smell of shit. You’ve had it for not two months yet, no?”

“Seven weeks.”

Abner laughed. “And that was all it took to set you to cracking up. Proud old wizard, unable to accept that there are things he cannot know. Like the subject of a parable told to children in a temple nursery. Idiot kids, but wiser than you.”

Gyges growled and banged his fist on the table. “Fool! You know not what I have seen!”

“And I do not desire to know. It’s not in my interest to be driven mad by some eldritch vision.” Abner’s hand dropped below the table, and Gyges could hear the undoing of the snap on his holster. “All that I want is to be paid for the task I have been hired for. My ignorance is better than your knowledge, for I shall stay at peace while you quake and crumble.”

Gyges stared at Abner and shook with mounting rage. 

“Have I touched a nerve, wise man? Are you now forced to look at the futility of the philosopher’s task?”

Gyges said nothing.

Abner nodded. “Well. This has been a stimulating discussion, but I fear I must press the only relevant question which remains to either of us as of now. And I require a quick answer. Will you allow me to take the lantern in peace, or will you die here on this day?”

A few long moments of silence passed.

Gyges sprung from his chair and let out a scream like a wild beast. He lunged across the table with hands outstretched. Abner’s gun came up in an instant, and he fired twice. One bullet exploded into the old man’s chest and the other blasted his face into a gruesome wreckage. The Seer’s body collapsed onto the table, falling onto the clay jug and smashing it. Blood mingled with tea and numerous documents spread across the table were soaked to ruination.

Abner sighed and stood up from his chair. “Poor old buzzard. And a waste of good tea.” He turned the body over and inspected the shirt pocket. “Smokes are ruined too. Altogether a less than ideal outcome.” He laughed a short, bitter laugh to himself, and stepped towards the lantern. With it securely in hand, he left the cabin behind and descended the path into the wooded valley below.

[laneynoir]

Happy (very late) mothers day @sotwk

Complete.

So... Timelines. They're gone. I set this some where after your fic where Maereth's hurt.

Tw: bad poetry (more like a sketchy rhyme), that for the sake of the plot I'm pretending is adequate.

"Swift step would be advised, oh prince. We have hardly enough time as it is to reach the woods."

Gelir shifts the large obsidian pot in his arms, shooting a glare nearly as sharp as the arrows he carries. "I would remind you oh peasant, that we would have returned home nearly four days hence, had we our mounts."

Darthol swaquks indignantly, "I had no choice but to send the animals away, they were not trained for battle and would have served only as dinner for those orcs in the end. I do wish that I knew they reached safety."

Bright green eyes softening to his year mate's clear concern, the fourth prince of Greenwood the Great quirks a smile. "I'm sure the mares are in good health, and I am glad that you sent them away, if only for the excuse to avoid my eldest brother; he does get so... Finicky about things he takes as his duty."

"Far be it from myself to critique one of our illustrious royalty-"

Here does Gelir let loose a scoffing audible noise of pure disbelief, a sound that would be sure to send his father's youngest advisor into a lecture on manners.

"-yet even I, as a mere peasant know of the steady sense of honour that the crown prince carries. Say, would you like a hand with that?"

He is of course reffering to the potted plant secured in Gelir's arms, though he could only reach two thirds the way around the sparkling black of the stone. "No," he sighs in answer, "I feel I must be the one to carry it. Only, I do not understand why the dwarrow must make everything so... Large."

"Compensating." Darthol supplies, startling a laugh from his companion.

"I have a cousin on mother's side who would be quick to disagree, somthing to do with the size of a dwarve's nose." The cajoling tone is one infrequently heard, and usually only in the presence of his family or yearmate.

Removing his eyes from the road and horizen, the cornhaired elf aprsises the container. "You must admit, it is very pretty. Though I still do not ubderstand why those of Kazad Dúm would craft it of obsidian and not somthing sturdier. One tap is hardly less than it would take to shatter so fragile a thing, regardless of the gold."

Gelir pauses over the questioning words for a moment. "I had though of that, I belive it comes from the friendly rivalry they and their elven neighbors share. With so delecate a plant, they wished to show that they too could provide something of such beauty that it need not protect itself." Here he pauses. "Or somthing of the ilk, Arvellas is a better source of such ponderings."

"And I am sure it has nothing to do with those glances the head of the guild was sending the lady Horiath?"

Gelir gives a highly unprincley snort. "Nay, do you mean that you suspect an attraction betwixt the two noblewomen? Where ever should you have taken such an idea?!"

Darthol grins in silent laughter, but he freezes just as quickly, causing the other to still as well. Both listen carefully, and it is no embelishment to say that the prince of Greenwood swears quite colorfully in three languages that he does not speak.

"Why does it have to be wargs? We couldn't just have some goblins or others of the ilk. It is of course necessary to have the ones with the best sense of smell and feet fleet as our own under normal circumstance." Though his ranting is mostly to bring a smile to Darthol's face, the unreasonably humongous dirt filled pot prevents Gelir from wielding any weapon, must less his bow.

He hears the singing of a bow before the yelp of the cursed creature falling. Though he has already guessed, he nods in return to the classification of the scout.

They make it forward to a pile of rocks before the remainder of the pack shows themselves, Gelir spending longer that he likes attenpting to find a safe place for the black pot (which he is begining to doubt the worth of, he should have just made a card, or breakfast, or anything else that a mother may apriciate).

There are not many of the foul animals, and most fall swiftly to arrows fletched with both red and gold. An orc rider carrying a bow of his own aims for Darthol, targeting the rear of his head.

Turning in time near to late, Gelir sees the arrow loose, watching as if time has slowed as the black iron dart flies through the air.

Gelir has never once in his life screamed. A fact which had worried the nurses at his birth, for when he was taken from the womb, covered in placenta and entierly sighlent, they had thought him dead. Bright eyes shining green, he had been quiet as a falling leaf. Maereth had ignored the strangled cry of one young healer, and demanded that her child be given to her. The moment the child had been olaced in her arms she cried out, "My child yet lives, and shall be my joy. As joy is no loud thing, but may be the stirrings in ones heart in the quiet beauty of the forests" so had Gelir earned his name.

And so has he lost in a moment even the thought of joy. A sounds ripped from his throat that sends a shock through Darthol

Bow prepared he has not time for prayer or though as he lets go the string.

The resounding crack as the arrow near folds into itself in contact with the orc weapon is painful to hear, yet their is no time for calibration. Only a swift wide eyed look from Darthol before the fight is resumed.

Not long after do they leave the piled carcasses boring and make way to the forest, breathing deeply in relief when the greenery is once again over their heads.

It would be dishonest to say that Gelir has never snuck out of the palace, and in doing so, snuck back in. It is however Eru's truth to say that he has never felt so utterly ridiculous, exhausted, dirty, and paranoid.

"I don't think it is going to- get down."

"Well we know that- OH"

Both duck under the flora surounding the gates and whatch as the king and queen stroll down the path, Maereth's voice flowing like a clear brook over the forest.

The two stare for a moment, before Thranduil turn back, and of all the impossibilitys winks at them.

Recovering from the shock, both Ellons stand and resume the trek into the palace, gaining not a few strange looks from various persons of differing status. Gelir did admit, if only to himself, that they did indeed make an odd picture. Having made the decision of discretion, Darthol was walking backward under and holding a sheet to cover the pot and plant.

Pot and plant being awkwardly large, this understandably obstructs the sightlines nearly so much for the peince as his year mateunder the sheet.

"Left now"

"Other left other left!"

"Ouch"

"Oh do shush"

When at last they arrive in the prince's preferred common area, both heave a sigh of relief that the plant is still sound in its dark soil. The relief is cut short by the gasping laughter of both the eldest and youngest Thranduilions.

"What-" a bout of laughter, "in Eru are you two doing?"

Gelir scowls, but it is Darthol who answers. "Just a bit of under the covers plant delivery from your humble subjects, my leige."

"Is that?" Legolas asks staring at the object of offense, sounding wonder struck.

Gelir's expression only softens slightly. "Indeed. Though after countless miles of carrying and caring for it no longer hold so much reverence for the thing."

A whistle sounds softly from the door on the west side of the room, and there stands Turhir, framed by the late afternoon sun and greenery of the courtyard. "If you wish to get rid of that, I shall gladly accept. I do not think I've 'ere seen such a plant, you are sure it's a growing plant?"

"Not on your blades brother, we've put far to much into this gift, Naneth will receive it from my own hand." He gives the brunette a dirty look. "Tis no fault of mine that you were quote: 'ocupied' when the opportunity arose."

"For the child named joy, you are the most dour of us all, Gelir."

Gelir sends a rather impolite gesture to Arvellas before nudging the pot to a corner of the room. "As you say oh wise one. I have been far to long wuthout the luxury of a bath, and mine arms are stuck in a circular position from this thing. I beg you not break the thing while I am away." That last of this is said very pointedly, much to the indignation of Legolas.

"It was one time!"

~

"Eyes closed my queen, you should not spoil the surprise."

Maereth smiles. "I do not seek to do such, and you know this, Ninniel. I am only excited, I have had no chance to see my second youngest since he has returned from his diplomatic mission, though why my love decided to send him, I hace no idea."

Ninniel sighs. "Not all of your children can be so blessed as ambassadors." She grins cheekily though the queen has no way of seeing it. "Leave the woodland and it's creatures to him I say, but if you search for a diplomatic and truthfully tounge, look to the eldest."

"Well as I know, Mellon nín. None of my children are yhe same, and I could not be more grateful for the fact. Now, are you going to tell me what on earth is going on?"

"No, but they will." Ninniel removes tge covering from Maereth's eyes, opening the door to what she then recognizes as the princes' old play room, now tirned into a sitting room.

"Oh- oh my..."

Legolas wraps her in a hug. "Joyous Mother's Day, Nana!"

The area has been painstakingly decorated with shimmering fabrics and various displays of flora. Her five sons and husband stand before her, near a table with the largest cake Maereth has ever seen.

Thranduil pulls his wife gently from the arms of his youngest. "Suprised dear? The children have put much work forth in this endeavor."

She tightens her grip on his arm and speaks louder, so that the others hear as well. "I am indeed suprised. I expected nothing, but should have known that my lovely family would choose to celebrate a holiday of man."

"Come mother, we've presents!" And indeed they did, as maereth soon found.

"Turhir, how is it that I was unaware of your talent in the kitchen?" A valid question, as the towering confection is an utter work of art. At ten tiers, it is iced with as many colours as can be imagined, and there are sculptures made of differing edibles, raging from fondant to rock candy. "Not only do you seek the position as gaurd captain, but also to usurp our cook?"

Blushing brightly at the praise he grins ruefully, "The cook is safe mother, and I cannot claim all credit for this, Legolas helped much with the decorations."

Legolas nodds, "Though I did also make you this Nana." He hands over a small wraped box.

Maereth gently removes the green silk from the outside, before sliding the lid through its grooves. She gasps in delight when the action causes two small birds to pop out and begin twirling around one another. When they still, she repeats the opening movement again, and sure enough they preform the dance again.

"Legolas, this is truly amazing, however did you manage such detail? And the spring system is ingenious, my son!" Legolas joins his brother in the Red Face Department. "Hannon Lee."

Next she receives Mirion's gift, a set of long daggers, crafted flawlessly from mithriel and green stone hard as diamond, but soft as jade. Pulling them from the sheaths, she delights all with a few practice twirls.

Gelir disappears for a moment, only to return with the object of his current distaste, though he sets it very gently before his mother. "I made this not with my own hand, but retrieved the plant from the settlement beside Kazad-Düm, and commissioned the planter from the dwarves." He fidgets uncharacteristically, and waits for the response.

Maereth kneeks before it, and traces the petals. "Is this truly living?" The flowers are in apearance that of a rose, but bloom in a rainbow of colour, all clear crystal and luminescent. The leaves are starlight silver, but for golden threads runing throughout."

"It is."

To hear one of the fair folk laugh is a privilege, musical at its crudest, and at its best, as Queen Maereth's always was, it is remnicant of the song with which the world was sung from. "I should never have belived that you were truly sent on a diplomatic mission. But tell me, are the two ladies courting yet, or still dodging eachother with banter?"

Without expecting an answrr she pulls Gelir into a hug, which he imeadiatly recuperates. Much to Legolas' faux indignation. "Oh sure, when mother wishes a hug it's fine. But I try to claim one and you're all 'mkve your hands or I'll feed them to the wolves'"

At last Arvelass hands her a rolled parchment, tied with gold string. Upon unrolling, she is met with the most beautiful example of Caligrafy she has ever seen, and the words which read:

A mother like an oak tree,

Standing tall, and strong.

Giving to us, life for free,

Gently correcting when we are wrong.

As an acorn must tumble,

Taking it's own life in the ground.

She assists when we do stumble,

With her we are safe and sound.

Beneath the branching shade,

Kept from scorching sun.

Protection she has bade,

For children, every one.

Through the ground roots do twist,

Entwing in our life.

Connected and gentle as the mist,

Our blessed kings wife.

Indeed she gives home to many,

Kingdom's branches welcome all.

She is wise, fair, and canny,

Under her rule, we'll never fall.

In her moments of sickness,

To our best we do guard.

No matter the opponent's quickness,

We strive to protect from every shard.

In storms of wind, heat, water, and snow

She stands ever in grace and power.

Under her she watches grow,

From fern to moss, to flower.

By the end her eyes are damp, and Maereth is glad to lean her head against the chest of her husband. When the brothers move to claim extra cake she smiles up at Thranduil. "What? No gift from my beloved?"

Thranduil's chest move in faint laughter before he leans down to whisper in her ear, "You shall claim your gift later Meleth, patience."

"Flirt"

"Yours"

Maereth watches with the loving eyes that only a mother can manage as Legolas topples from a table into Arvelass, smearing cake into the dusting of hair on his chin. And who truly can begrudge her the belief that she truly is the most blessed of all Eru's children.

[ga-yuu]

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 10~Part 1

Chapter 9

*

*

*

------Part 1------

(I feel hot.)

I looked up and stared at Kurama with my tearful vision. <-- her orgasm face.

However, the contrast between the black hair and red eyes that adorned the well-formed shape drew my attention.

Kurama: “................”

Kurama looked at me as if he was observing my expression...

Kurama: “.....I see. So you like the way how I look.”

Yoshino(blushing): ".......Nn."

I can feel my cheeks heat up to my ears.

Yoshino(blushing): "What are you saying..."

Kurama: "You're the one who denied that this happens no matter who touches you. Then there must be a reason why you react like this when I touching you. When you look at me like this...so close, you’re forgetting to resist. It's obvious."

Yoshino(blushing): "Mm...of course...I'm still resisting.."

Kurama: "-----Yoshino."

Yoshino(already wet): "Mmm......."

Just one word poured into my ear, and I'm already about to fall apart.

Kurama: "That's right. I forgot you loved this."

Kurama laughed as he whispered in my ear in a deliberately nasty way.

Kurama: "Yoshino, you don't just like my looks apparently, you like my voice too."(V.A  Morikawa Toshiyuki’s voice is sexy)

Yoshino(blushing): "Don't say anything.....Oh.."

The sweet teeth on my neck made me squeal.

Kurama: "Do you remember? Your body is prone to drowning in stimuli, even though you can easily speak out in fear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. Let go...(+4/+4)

2. Don't say anymore....

3. Forgive me...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoshino(blushing): "L....Let go...of me..."

Kurama: "I wanna try and see how long your dream resistance lasts. But for today I've had my fill. I'll take care of you again when I feel like it."

Yoshino: "Take care? Is how you're going to take care of me...?"

Kurama: "What? Not enough?"

Kurama easily moves away from me when he sees me shaking my head impatiently.

Then he walked out of the door without looking back.

Yoshino: "The road ahead is too long....!!"

Thus began my life as a prisoner of war.

...........

(This is the third day, and I have nothing to do....)

The garden, which I was allowed to explore, was magnificent, but as you can imagine, I get bored with it every day.

Yoshino: "I'm bored so that I borrowed some bamboo broom from the maids....."

It's not as if I'm going astray collecting leaves from the enemy camp.

(I can't help it, can I? I was so busy when I was in the Shogunate, I can't settle for this kind of life.)

I clutched the bamboo broom tightly in my hand, my heart filled with sadness....

Kurama: "Who are you going to knock down with that broom?"

-----Part 2-----

Kurama: "Who are you going to knock down with that broom?"

Yoshino: "Kurama!?"

Without a sound, Kurama, who was standing behind me, called out to me.

Kurama: "I thought you'd be quietly sitting in the corner of your room like a miserable little puss, but you never cease to amaze me. How about you and I aim at the heads of the guards around there and make them fall into a coma."

Yoshino: "I can't do that!"

Kurama: "Then what are doing with that?”

Yoshino: “I was going to sweep the garden.”

Kurama: “Sweep?”

Yoshino: “I have some much time in my hands, so I thought I would do this.”

Kurama’s eyes narrowed as if he was looking at something insurmountable.

Kurama: “You sweep gardens to kill boredom?”

Yoshino: “It’s can’t be helped. I’m a prisoner, but I just don’t want to sit around doing nothing....So I thought...”

Kurama: “I see.”

Shortly after that, Kurama pulls my wrist.

Yoshino: “Hm? What is it?”

Kurama: “Come. If you have a lot of free time, I’ll give you some work.”

(Ohh)

He pulls me without waiting for my reply....

.............

Yoshino: “This must be Kurama’s room?”

Kurama: “That’s right.”

A black feather fluttered from his back as he answered languidly.

Kurama: “Sit down.”

Kurama sits down first and points to the floor in front of him.

Yoshino: “.....Okay.”

(What on earth is he going to make me do?)

I sit down, a little nervous, and Kurama offers me something.

Yoshino: “Hm? Tangerine?”

Kurama: “Peel them.”

Yoshino: “Can I eat it?”

Kurama(glares): “Don’t be silly. That’s mine.”

Yoshino: “Oh.”

Kurama: “Fine, then I’ll give you one slice as a special treat after you’ve finished peeling.”

(It’s not that I wanted tangerines that badly, mind you.)

I started to peel the tangerine as I was told, feeling unsure about what to do.

Yoshino: “I mean, why won’t you peel it yourself....?”

Kurama: “If no one is around, I’ll peel it myself. But it’s troublesome.”

(As usual, he’s unreasonable...)

Kurama takes the tangerine I offer him and puts them in his mouth.

Yoshino: “.....So?”

Kurama: “Tastes like tangerines.”

Yoshino: “That’s right....and?”

Kurama: “Yummy.”

(Ah........)

I looked at him lightly, distracted by his surprisingly straightforward answer and the sweet smile on his face.

Kurama: “What?”

-------Part 3------

Kurama: ”What?”

Yoshino(blushing): “Ah? No, nothing.”

(I can’t tell him...that he looked cute..)

Yoshino: “Do you like tangerine? Tamamo once said that demons don’t need food.”

Kurama: “Most foods are a pain to prepare, but tangerines are the easiest to eat and don’t taste bad either.”

Yoshino: “Yeah, because I was the one peeling them for you....”

Kurama: “Are you now feeling busy?”

Yoshino: ”Of course!”

Kurama: “You said you were bored so I invited you here and looked after you. I’m sure you’ll have no complaints now.”

(This question is dangerous to deny...so let’s just nod our heads for now.)

And then--------

???: “Knock knock, anyone home?”

Kurama: “.....Sueharu is here.”

(Sueharu? Who’s that?)

???: “Looks like I’m ‘obliged’ to come in....!”

A lilting voice sounded from outside the room, followed by the opening of the sliding doors.

Yoshino: “Kurama! Your wings...”

When I was thinking what to do to hide his wings----

Sueharu: “Am I interrupting you? Kurama. Ah, those usual magnificent wings. They’ll fetch a good price when I sell them.”

(Ah! This person isn’t surprised at Kurama’s appearance....)

Sueharu: “Hm? You are.....”

I reflexively bow to the man with the eye patch who enters.

(......Hm? Wait, I think I’ve seen him before...)

Sueharu: “Wait. Kurama with a girl? I that a sign of some kind of natural disaster or something?”

Kurama(glares): “Watch your mouth, Sueharu.”

The man named Sueharu showed his white teeth and smiled, seemingly unconcerned by Kurama’s retort.

Sueharu: “Anyways, do you remember me?”

(Eh?)

Sueharu: “You’re the girl who asked me for directions near Kamakura.”

Yoshino: “Oh yeah...”

Kurama: “You guys have met before?”

Yoshino: “On the night I met Kurama and Yoshitsune-sama for the first time, I met Sueharu-san on my way to Kamakura.”

Sueharu: “Yeah. I was a bit worried at the time being, a woman traveling alone...”

The one eye looked at me and then at Kurama puzzled.

Sueharu: “But if you’re with Kurama, does that mean you’re involved in this chaos?”

(Well...)

Yoshino: “Did you already knew? That the Shogunate and the Rebels were about to clash that night.”

Sueharu: “I’m a merchant who sometimes goes in and out of Hiraizumi. I’m also close to Yoshitsune-sama and the others so I happened to know about the Sesseo-seki.”

Kurama: “What are the odds of that?”

Part 2

[thebestworstidea]

Pretty Boy

@dukeceitweek day 4: Free Day!

I do not apologize for this turn of the century Pretty Woman-A/B/O mashup.  In fact I can pretty much guarantee I’m going to be coming back to it when I have more time.

Notes on the setting: Alphas and Omegas make up less than a third of the population. Nobility tries to breed for them, but it’s still kind of a genetic toss up, so you’ll find them in all social strata. Due to period-typical psudoscience, it has become popular for omegas, who were traditionally strong protective types, to be seen more are delicate beings like ladies who require protection; where as Alphas instead of being providers and innovators, are leaders and protectors. Polyamory is not unusual, even among betas.

warnings: sexwork, gambling, drinking, brief violence, prejudice, non traditional A/B/O dynamics.

---

It had been a long day, week, month, year, and Janus Tromperie just wanted to cut loose a little. It wasn’t exactly respectable, but it wasn’t unreasonable for a gentleman of certain means to go down to the dockward parts of the city and indulge in a bit of gambling, drinking and even whoring. It was a little dangerous, but that was part of the thrill. Appropriate caution removed most of the danger- not taking to much money with you, wearing clothes just bit out of fashion and shabby, taking a gentleman down to middle class. Janus was on the slender side, but tall and with the scent of a well-fed-Alpha. He wore his blond hair romantically long and his face bare. Watching the seedy going ons of the docks was safe enough. He had very little urge to join in on it, besides a few bets on fist fights and a round or two of cards- always bowing out before he won much, and unable to be goaded into staying longer. The harder they pushed, the more likely he was to leave, in fact.

That was more or less why he was much further into the seedy side than he normally went. As he was passing an open doorway, another man collided with him. Immediately he assumed it was a pickpocket, but no hands slipped into his pockets, instead they steadied him where he’d almost tripped. Another man sidled out the doorway of what seemed to be a bar, if the stench of old beer and gin was any indication, walking away purposely. 

“S’cuse me.” he said, and dove at the other man, grabbing him by the back of the coat and whipping him around. There were visible muscles in his upper arm,  straining against the dull gray fabric of his shirt sleeves.  He was remarkably under-dressed for the evening. 

Janus’s nostrils flared and he opened his mouth slightly to scent better. The man who’d collided with him was an Omega- how interesting. There were lots of scents around him, beta and alpha both. More than one, which was surprising, considering how rare they were.

“This ain’t no dine and dash, fuckhead.” the omega snarled. “Pay up.”

“Slut.” the other man retorted, and tried to punch him. “You’d do it for free.” 

The omega’s hand lashed out, and squeezed around his throat.

“Yeah, if someone was worth doing. You I’d charge double for, if only to pay to lay the itch.” 

The implication was fairly clear, and Janus gave a snort of amusement. A whore beating up a john on their own was the best entertainment he’d seen tonight. The john glared at him over the omega’s shoulder. 

“How about some help?” he demanded. 

Janus actually laughed.  The omega shoved the other man, then took a step back into the lantern light, going through a leather billfold neither of them had noticed him taking. That only made Janus unobtrusively check his own again. Both the decoy and his actual wallet were in place and intact.

“Give that back-” the john took a swing and the omega flicked the billfold into his face, sidestepping and tripping him.

“Fuck yourself, next time.” he suggested charmingly bearing sharp white teeth, tucking the money he’d taken into his shirt. The john tried to get up and the omega stepped on his hand, making him snarl. Oh, that’s where the other alpha scent was coming from, this just got funnier and funnier. 

“You little pissant omega whore.”

“Yep.” He drove the heel of his shoe down on his hand. “Listen, lobcock, I don’t have to play nice. You got what you tried not to pay for.” He raised his foot and the other man snatched his billfold from the gutter. Trying to stand with dignity, he checked the contents, and opened his mouth, presumably to say something. The omega gave an aborted lunge, snapping his teeth feraly, and the alpha disappeared into the night. 

There was silence for a long moment- well, not silence. There was the faint whistle of a nearby lamp burning, and the sound of revelry in the bar nearby. If Janus strained his ears, he could even hear other people taking their pleasure in the rooms above, and one particularly loud noise from the actual brothel a street over. 

The omega was thick and solid as they often were. Despite the spreading ideal that omegas should be slender and giving, they tended to be thick and tough, suited for protecting their young and mates. His eyes were wild and a little sunken, but that did nothing to disguise his good, almost aristocratic, looks. If he was clean and properly dressed, he would have been better looking than most people Janus had been set up with last season. Though that might have more to do with being fully grown instead of young.  He stroked his hair- uncut and wild- back, and smoothed the small, surprisingly well groomed mustache that decorated his face. Shrugging one arm out of his vest, he shifted the suspender that had been outside it to it’s proper place, and buttoned the garment up against the evening chill. Then he seemed to realize that he was being observed.

“Are you waiting for a better apology?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Cuz honestly, nicest bounce I’ve had for a while, too enjoyable to apologize more for.”

Janus gave a startled laugh, realizing he hadn't said anything, just staring. 

“So you’re a prostitute?” Janus asked.

“What was your first clue?” He looked at his nails. 

“Do you have a pimp?” 

“Dangerous questions, mandrake snake.” But he spread his hands, indicating the foggy night outside a bar, with no one but them in sight. 

“How would you like a job?”

“Not looking for one, so you know.”

“Not looking to be one, to be clear.” Janus retorted. 

“So just a normal getting green on?” He said thoughtfully. “Well, I’m probably not gonna get welcomed back in there just yet.” the omega looked over his shoulder at the bar. “But I might have a slot open for you.” 

This was a terrible idea. This definitely wasn’t why he came here. But it was entertaining.

“No, not a normal hire.” Janus walked in a slow circle, taking in his appearance further, trying not to be too obvious about smelling. While he smelled of several betas and a couple of alphas, his underlying scent was fairly healthy, no twinge of sickness. It was a deep mossy scent, inviting like the forest after rain, thick with mud. His clothes could have been second hand, or they could have just been worn hard. “I’m in need for a more… prolonged companion. At least a week.”

He choked out a laugh. 

“Oh you’re a trip to Bedlam and back, aren’t you?” the omega leaned in towards him, and Janus didn’t lean away as his nostrils flared, not being subtle or polite about taking in Janus’s cologne, the faint remnants of his dinner, and the whiskey he’d drunk. “Who are you looking to piss off? Parents? A fiancee jilt you? No wait-” he held up a finger. “You’re trying to jilt someone!” 

“You’ll just have to take the hire to find out won’t you?” Janus’s mouth tipped up at the corner. 

“Let’s talk terms then.”

“Here?”

“I haven’t lived this long by following strange and handsome men with no guarantees.” 

“Very well, how about the bar two streets over?” Janus jerked his head in the right direction. It was in the direction of the seedy dance halls and cabarets, but still within in the dockside sprawl. 

“I can do that.” 

“Do you need to retrieve anything?” 

He smoothed down his vest, and pulled a thin scarf out of his pocket, tying it with practiced movements into a tie of sorts. 

“This is as good as it gets.” he informed Janus. They started strolling in the indicated direction. 

“It occurs to me, I haven’t introduced myself.  My name is Janus Tromperie.” He tipped his head at the omega, offering a gloved hand. 

“Makes no difference to me what you call yourself.” He said, shrugging a shoulder without removing his hands from his pockets. Well, “But you can call me Remus.” 

“Well Remus, I hope it will be a pleasure.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”  

[tsipasce]

Same Difference ch. 15

A/N: this thing fluffier than mf pancakes

That first night Nanami was awoken by the sound of the front door and a heavy sigh from a familiar voice. She glanced at the clock to see it was 2:30 am, a feeling a bit of empathy as she remembered all the 12-hour shifts she pulled, only to return to an empty place and heat up leftovers from the night before. He was probably doing the opposite of ~*saving lives*~ during his long shifts, but the sentiment remained. She heard him walking into the kitchen as the steps on hardwood turned to tile and he opened the pantry then subsequently the microwave. By 3:15 am she heard his shower going as she fell back asleep, wondering how he kept up with this schedule, his consistent grumpy mood suddenly making more sense.

By morning Nanami’s alarm for 5:30 am began blaring and she hurriedly shut it off, knowing they were only a room apart, but not how heavy a sleeper he was. Hoping she hadn’t awoken him, she quietly went through her morning routine and slipped into her workout gear. Since her training, she’d gotten back into running, and morning jogs were the only ones she had the time or energy for. On paper, any kind of jogging sounded tedious, but she found a certain peace in being able to clear her mind and get the blood flowing before beginning her day. Grabbing her headphones and phone, she quietly opened the door to her room before gently closing it. She crept down the hallway, looking back to his room to find the door still closed. He must be asleep still. Better make this quick. She thought before continuing down the hall. The sun was streaming in, but the kitchen and living room lights were off, further strengthening her confidence. As she rounded the corner, she sa— “Aggh!” There he was with his back turned, leaning on the counter. He had on a baseball cap, dust mask, sweatshirt and gym shorts with compression tight underneath, all black.

Overhaul calmly turned his head at the sudden noise as though he’d been expecting it, “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice you leaving, did you?”

“Wha—no, way. I was just gonna…” his bored expression let her know that whatever half-baked explanation she planned on selling, he wasn’t buying it, “Ok, you caught me.”

“You cannot be outside alone. What part of ‘there’s a price on your head’ are you not getting?”

A defeated look crossed her features as she realized he was right. For at least a couple weeks, she needed to lay low. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and she knew it. “You’re right…” She began as she turned to go back to her room.

“Where are you going?”

The question caught her off-guard as she turned, confused, “To change?”

“I had plans to go on a run myself. You can join, if you behave.” He said plainly, as he headed to the doorway to put on his shoes. In any other circumstance she’d complain about being treated like a child, but considering she’d literally just gotten caught trying to sneak out like a teenager, she thought it best to spare him the retort and herself the hypocrisy.

“…Fine. Lead the way~”

“And leave the earphones, you need to be alert.”

“Yes, sir.” She responded simply.

He stopped, quickly turning to her, a dark look in his eyes. Seemingly coming back from wherever his mind went in that moment, he cleared his throat before turning back and adjusting his hat to cover more of his now-flushed face. “Let’s… let’s just go.”

Note to self: The magic words are not ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, but ‘yes sir’. She gulped.

They walked out of the main door and past the courtyard to the street. Looking at his watch he set a timer and they began their jog. The sun was still rising, and the air was fresh as it filled her lungs. The neighborhood was quiet, and the streets were empty, the only sounds being the morning birds and her own breath as they began their third mile.

 Hold up, where is—she thought as she looked over to see him still there. She knew he had to be in better shape than her given the fact that he fought so frequently, but he was running as though they had just begun, not a shred of fatigue on what was visible of his face. It was slightly off-putting seeing someone she knew had a whopping 2 hours of sleep run a couple miles without breaking a sweat. She on the other hand was beginning to tire. Slowing down she breathed heavily as he raised a brow at her questioningly.

“You’re…” She breathed, her hands above her head as she continued, “you’re like an electric car or something… How?” She panted, trying to cool down.

“None of that made sense.” He deadpanned, still jogging in place.

“Ugh, I’m trying to say, how are you not tired yet? I haven’t heard a peep out of you this whole time.”

“Practice and overhaul. Get through 5 miles without being this winded and I’ll consider teaching you.”

“Nothing is ever easy with you, is it?”

“Says the woman who makes a game out of defying me.”

Gasping, she dramatically put her hand across her chest, “Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you have to say it! Besides, you invite confrontation.”

“I what?” He asked incredulously.

Just as they were about to continue bickering, a voice cut them off. “It’s a bit early to be carrying on like this, isn’t it?”

Seeing the old man from the day before, Nanami immediately felt embarrassed, having shown the stranger a less-than-flattering side of herself twice in such a short span of time. “We’re so sorry for the noise, that was my fault.” She bowed trying to apologize. Just as she was about to check for Overhaul’s reaction, she saw him doing the same.

“My apologies. We won’t be a bother again.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or irritation in his voice and it sounded almost foreign to her.

Well, he does have manners, so I guess it’s not that surprising… she reasoned to herself.

“That’s quite alright, for someone my age, it’s nice hearing you young folk being so spirited.” He looked between them before continuing, “How would you two like to have a morning cup of tea with me?”

Before Nanami could find a way to wiggle out of it, Overhaul responded, “Of course, we’d be delighted.”

They stood back up, the older man already turning to go inside. Nanami turned to him mouth “what the hell are you doing?” as she didn’t want to get the man involved, not knowing how misplaced her concern was. He simply sighed, seemingly resigned to this tea break as he motioned for her to go inside. She could tell he knew something she didn’t, but reluctantly went ahead as he followed close behind through the front gates of the house.

The courtyard was very similar to that of the front house used to enter the base, except it felt homier upon entering. It was quiet and serene, as the melodic clank of the deer scare echoed and a stream of water ran into a small pond, the morning birds sparing an odd note or chirp in the background. Now cooling down from their run, she could feel the fall air crisp in her lungs once again as she took a moment to appreciate the scene.  The wrap-around porch had cushions and a tea set laid out as though he was expecting guests. Nanami was suspicious of the coincidence but couldn’t bring herself to feel threatened with her partner being so calm. At the end of the day, she was confident she and Overhaul could handle an ambush between them, but this didn’t feel like an attack, at least not for her.

“Please, have a seat.” The man smiled warmly as they obliged. Nanami was still unsettled at seeing her lab partner so placid and cooperative with another person. Must be trying to keep up a cover or something… I’ll have to be a barrier to make sure Mr.NoseyNeighbor doesn’t dig too deep and get himself in trouble with bird brain over here. This sweet old man has no idea what he’s gotten into…She thought to herself. The man poured them their cups and she clasped it with both hands, savoring the warmth as she sipped. “So, do you spend this much time with all of your patients or just the ones that are ‘particularly needy’?”

Nanami almost choked, registering the question and possible insinuation. Ok, what the fuck. Not-so sweet, after all... She used the cup as a shield, drinking as she regained her composure to answer, “I’m not sure what you mean, but I take care of all my patients equally based on what their condition demands.”

“Ah, I see. I wish I had a doctor as involved as you. Tell me, what hospital did you say you worked for again, Dr. Watanabe?” He asked innocently sipping his tea, but maintained eye contact.

“I didn’t. It’s funny, I also didn’t mention my name either. People in this neighborhood usually keep to themselves from what I’ve seen.”

“And I assume you’ve seen a lot.”

“No more than someone of your tenure has, I’m sure.” She smiled easily, determined not to lose this quasi-confrontation. She could feel her grip on the teacup tightening until Overhaul cut in.

“I think that’s enough, Pops.” He said, a tinge of exasperation in his voice.

Her head snapped to look over at Overhaul, wide-eyed. “POPS”??

The older man’s stern face and calculating smile were replaced with one of genuine amusement and a hardy chuckle. “Oh, I just wanted to test her mettle a bit. I’ve heard so much about her, but we’ve never had the chance to formally meet.”

“POPS” LIKE A DAD? LIKE HIS WHOLE ASS FATHER??

“Well, here we are. Boss, Dr. Nanami Watanabe. Dr. Watanabe, Boss.” He motioned between them. Her heart still finding time to skip a beat at the sound of him saying her given name for the first time.

Wait, Boss too? I’m… it’s too early for this. She lamented inwardly at her growing confusion before gathering her face, trying to seem unsurprised and unbothered by the introduction, though she was still hesitant. Is this another manipulation tactic?

“It’s alright, please relax, doctor.” He assured, seeing the skepticism on her face, ”I’m fully aware of your involvement in our organization. Though I do appreciate your caution. It puts me at ease knowing your prudence when discussing the Shie Hassakai extends even to me.” He chuckled.

“Oh, my apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” she replied, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she realized there wasn’t a crisis to be averted, at least not the one she thought.

“No need to apologize, I’m just grateful to have you over. Chisaki speaks so highly of you, it’s nice to be able to put an in-person face to the name.” At this she cautioned a glance only to see him very preoccupied with watching the deer scare. “Chisaki” huh…

“Oh, does he now? He’s usually so quiet when we’re working together.”

“Except for the occasional smart remark, I’m sure.”

She tried to stifle a giggle, “You really are his father then. If it’s not that, there’s certainly a ‘can’t you be serious for one second?’ thrown in there if I even attempt a joke myself.” She said in her best Overhaul impersonation voice.

The Boss let out a hardy laugh, “Well, we’re not related by blood,” at this a look of surprise crossed her face. “But that does indeed sound like my son.”

Realizing her expression had been misread, she clarified, “Oh no, I didn’t— what I mean to say is that my parents adopted me too, so I understand what you mean.” She smiled sincerely, though there was a fragment of sadness in her features Overhaul noted as he glanced over at her when she wasn’t looking. Wanting desperately to change the subject, she looked around the courtyard, “Anyway, you have a lovely home. I’m impressed your hydrangeas are so lush during this time of year, I’m having a real hard time with mine.”

He perked up, more than happy to explain the ins-and-outs of his gardening techniques. He rose to show her around, the both of them crouching and inspecting the plants in the courtyard as pops gave her the life story and history of each plant. It was odd to think that she was having a casual conversation with The Boss himself, but figured it was best to play it cool and keep things light and genuine. She made sure to maintain a healthy level of respect while addressing him, but the interaction flowed easily. For a moment she was able to forget her situation and just enjoy a morning tea while listening intently as he spoke about all matters horticultural.

Still on the porch, observing the pair, there was a warmth creeping into Chisaki’s chest. Bloodshed, murder, brutality—those were familiar, but this… was different. Not in the mood for self-reflection, he pulled his mask down and sipped the tea, enjoying the view without questioning it. Her hands gently grazed the petals, her gaze soft as the rising sun illuminated her features, a warm smile across her face. He cleared his throat, careful not to articulate the thoughts that crossed his mind. Careful not to acknowledge just how nice it would be to become used to this visage. He made a mental note to create a garden of his own to help facilitate this new wish, but for now, there was work to be done. Like clockwork, his phone rang, stirring him from his thoughts and he knew it was time to go.

After a brief call, he pocketed the device, standing up and walking over to them. Pops noticed and took the cue, “Well, it looks like duty calls. It was lovely to finally meet you, Dr. Watanabe.”

“The feeling is definitely mutual. Thank you for the tea and gardening tips, I’ll be sure to update you on the progress of my green thumb, whenever it shows up.” She gave a small laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck, a bit embarrassed at telling him how many plants had gone to die at her place.

“I look forward to it, and to seeing more of you around here. I know others feel the same.” He glanced over to Overhaul who averted his gaze like a reticent child at the remark.

They gave courteous bows before leaving, heading back in the direction of his house. There was a marked silence between them as they jogged this time. She had a million questions but couldn’t bring herself to ask even one as they arrived and entered the house. Lost in thought, she continued walking until she almost bumped into him as he stopped in the hallway. Looking over his shoulder, he addressed her “You know, there’s no turning back now.”

“I think we crossed that bridge a while ago,” she tittered before looking up to see his gaze soft and almost anxious to hear her response.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She assured, referring only partly to her commitment to keep a low profile until the bounty could be resolved. If she was being completely honest with herself, there was an insinuation she hoped he wouldn’t miss; that he wouldn’t reject. Both exhaling a long-held breath, he nodded, heading down the hallway to his room, a faint smile forming behind his mask.

[deathbyseventeen]

Since the Day I Met You || Part 2

TITLE: Since the Day I Met You (Part 2 of 2) || Part 1 

SERIES: Between the Dusty and the Sparks, Story #2

GENRE: Steampunk, Sci-Fi, Dystopian, Romance, Adventure, Fluff, Angst

RATING: M (for mature and suggestive scenes & themes)

PAIRING: Woozi/Jihoon x (F)Reader

WORDS: 15.1k 

❦❦

Blurb: For better or worse, he’s been your friend since the day you met. You’ve been through a lot together already, you, Jihoon, and your ragtag rebel family. But someone messed up, someone made the elitist Sparks government focus on you all– a group of nobody rebels in the cast-off City of Dust that have never even seen the luxury of the walled-off City of Sparks. With a heavy, love-stricken heart, choices have to be made; and, as the leaders of this family, for better or worse

they will be made.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Blood, Violence, Weapons, Injuries (Bones)

❦❦

Present Day

You were moments away from completing the project that had been consuming the majority of your time for the past month and a half. 

The main component of it, the part that had taken you weeks to find, cut, and then mold— the part with all the metal that was only going to amount to be the size of your palm, had been time-consuming. Sure, you were a  blacksmith and an engineer, and if you wanted to, you could have finished it even sooner than you had. But the project meant so much to you, that you had been even more careful than usual. 

But, after listening to Jihoon argue with Seungcheol that you shouldn’t be allowed to go off and search for a myth and offer up no alternative the day before, patience had been thrown out the window. That day, you had stalked off to your workshop, slammed the door shut, and poured all your energy into finishing the small metal box. 

Now it was today, a day later, and after pulling an all-nighter both finishing (read: making sure you hadn’t screwed it up in anger) the box and trying to finish what you had started first, before the box, before giving up. 

Leather, a few metal clasps, a needle, and thread was all you were dealing with.

It had taken you half an hour to hammer on the snap-on buttons onto a thin piece of leather and then an hour to cut a small hole into the end of the belt that would end up on the right side of his hip so the leather strap could be attached to it. 

The rest of the night had been spent doing the same type of thing, now only using your thread and needle to attach a few more straps and bags.

All coming to a culmination now, moments away from your final stitch on the main holster. Golden thread came in and out of the leather carefully. 

Then you were done, and a strange sense of calmness washed over you.

You grinned and took out the mannequin leg that you’d found one day after rummaging in the Dunes of the Forgotten, and quickly attached your project to it. 

Though the belt flopped while not having a waist to wrap around, the rest of it, the bags and straps hanging off the right side of the belt held up exactly how you had wanted it to.  

The base looked like a rectangle. Two straps slithered down the right thigh until they reached just above the knee, and a third strap connected the two and wrapped around the thigh with a buckle placed on the inner thigh so that it could be tightened if it fit too loose. 

Two bags, each just slightly bigger than the size of your hand, had been sewn in too. One was on the left strap that ran down the outer thigh and the other was on the other strap that ran down the front of the thigh, both bags closer to the belt. 

Then finally, a holster for the laser gun that you had fixed and refurbished. The side of each holster had a thin strap sewn in that connected to each side strap, a buckle on each to help tighten and loosen it. A final strap and buckle were then attached to the bottom of the holster, connecting it to the strap that wrapped around the thigh. 

It looked exactly the way you wanted it to. 

A golden brown, leather belt with a thigh extension for storing small objects and a holster. 

Giddy, you undid the strap that went around the thigh like a second belt and pulled the entire thing— the main belt included, off the mannequin’s leg. 

There was a box on your worktable, big enough for you to push the belt and bags in and quickly shut it close. Then, using a thin, old, piece of cloth, you tied it around the box and made the simplest bow you could at the top. 

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Jihoon said, barging into your workshop. 

As fast as you could, you thew a rag you had been using over the box to hide it, then whipped around, forcing down a red flush you could feel creeping up your neck.

“What’s going on?” You said breathlessly. 

“I don’t want you to go look for something that doesn’t exist.” 

Oh. 

“Jihoon, this isn’t up for debate.” 

“You’re right because you aren’t going. It’s not safe, and it’s useless.” 

“Not safe?” You huffed, “Useless? Do you have any better ideas? Because I’m all ears.”

Jihoon fumed. You could practically see smoke coming out of his ears as he glared at you.

“I don’t have any, but it doesn’t matter because you’re not going.” 

“You’re being unreasonable,” you said calmly. “I’ve proposed a solution. I’ll only be gone for a few days— a week at the most if I’m able to find him, which I will, and then I’ll be back. It’s not a big deal.” 

“You’re not going,” Jihoon snapped. 

“Why not,” you said, a knot of anger starting to form in your throat, “exactly why can’t I go?” 

“It’s not safe,” Jihoon insisted, his hands suddenly in fists. 

“Then, I’ll take Joshua since you think so lowly of me,” you finally snapped. Though you didn’t notice, something in Jihoon’s eyes changed after you’d uttered those words. 

“No.” 

“What?” You huffed, “Still not good enough for you? I understand now that you think I’m so weak I can’t take care of myself, but I think I’ll be alright with or without Joshua.” 

“There are raiders,” Jihoon hissed, “murders, Sparks undercover just waiting for some Dusty to cross their paths so they can off them.”

You shook your head, tired at his insisting, and in a low, resolute voice said, “I’m going. I’ve already decided this, Jihoon. And there’s nothing you can say to stop me.” 

Jihoon looked into your eyes, hands no longer in fists and pleaded with you again, the anger in his voice suddenly disappearing, “Please don’t go.” 

His words were met with silence. You felt like you had nothing more to say to him. You had already made your choice and he couldn’t change your mind. 

Moved by the silence between the two of you, Jihoon crossed the rest of the workshop and smashed his lips onto yours, hands coming to a rest on the back of your head and your neck. 

Caught off guard, you froze, your eyes as wide as saucers until your brain caught up with your unmoving lips. It took no less than two seconds for that, then without wasting a second more, you closed your eyes and moved your lips against his, your hands moving to rest around his neck.

His lips were softer than you could have ever imagined despite the aggressiveness of which he was moving with. 

Your thoughts raced, but they were constant. All you could think was Jihoon. He tasted like the strawberries that Seokmin had appeared with the day before— but not sour. No. He was sweet.

You could feel yourself melting into him, his hot breath fanning across your face every millisecond you broke apart for air before coming together again. 

Jihoon. 

Soft lips. 

Jihoon.

Agressive. 

Jihoon. 

Strawberries. 

Jihoon. 

Jihoon.

Jihoon. 

He bit your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine and making your back arch. It took all your self-control to stop the whine that threatened to leave you when he stopped kissing you to push you against the table and nibble on your neck.

That’s when you felt the box brush against your back, and your world came crashing down. 

Jihoon was kissing you, and you wanted nothing more. But he was kissing you because… because—

You pushed him away. 

“What the hell, Jihoon? Did you think you could kiss me and make me stay?” You fumed. You could still feel the ghosts of his lips on you, and your chest still rose and fell heavily as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Y/—”

“No,” you cut in, “No. I’m going, and you don’t have a say in this.” 

“Y/N,” Jihoon tried again. 

“You can’t mess with my feelings like that” you said, closing your eyes as tears threatened to leave you, “Get out.” 

“Y/—”

“Get out!” You yelled, quickly grabbing the mannequin leg from the worktable and chucking it at him, “Get out! Get out! Get out!” 

Jihoon had no choice but to leave. He scrambled to get out before you could throw something else at him. Once out, you rushed to the door and slammed it shut. 

You pressed your face against the door, your hands in fists and your eyes clamped shut so you could force the tears back.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Joshua,” you called out to him as you noticed him laying on a stone slab just inside the greenhouse, staring at the vines curling around the protruding beams of the glass ceiling. 

“Y/N,” he responded, eyes flicking over to you.

You paused and wondered if you should walk off the path and enter the greenhouse. But, after a moment, you decided that if Joshua could hear you from where you were, then you’d stay where you were. 

“Would you mind coming with me? To find Jun, I mean.” 

Joshua nodded, “I was hoping you’d ask.”

“Thanks. Find Seungcheol, yeah? Give him the heads up. We leave tonight, so go grab a pack and fill it with the things we need for a five day trip— provisions, water filters, a canteen, extra clothes, just for you though. I’ve already packed my own.”

“Got it,” Joshua nodded. 

You hummed in response, your fingers curling around the box in your hands and taking a few steps forward, about to continue your trek up to the house. Then, you stopped.  

“Midnight,” you said, “we’ll leave at midnight. So, tell Seungcheol to make sure that everyone is in the living room before then.” 

Joshua sat up, “Okay.” 

“Thanks,” you told him and stalked off. 

The rest of your walk was quiet, save for the crunching of rocks under the soles of your shoes every now and then. The house was just as quiet. Only your footsteps kept you company. 

You walked through the garden and past the living room, taking a right at the latter. You followed the hallway until the end when you finally reached the room that was located at the right corner of the house. 

The door was closed, and you stood there for a minute, wondering if you were making the right choice. But deep down you knew this was the only choice you trusted. 

You knocked, and a few seconds later the door opened. 

“Y/N.” 

“Soonyoung.” 

He glared at you, fingers curling around the door frame as he moved to block your view inside. 

“What do you want? Did finally come to apologize to me and Luz?” 

“No,” you smiled tensely, “I’m not going to apologize for anything I said when I know that I’m right.” 

His left eye twitched as he continued to glare at you. His mouth clamped shut into a straight line. He was about to slam the door in your face when you jammed your foot in the gap left by the closing door.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“I’m not doing any—”

“Yes. You are. Because you’re the only one I know that’ll be able to understand.” 

Caught by the tone of your words, an eyebrow of his rose, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean—” you held out the box you had packed your finished project in, “I need you to hold onto this. I’ll ask you to give it back to me in a week or so; but, if something… happens to me before I’m able to get it back, I need you to give it to… him.” 

“Him? Y/N, what’s going on? What’s happening to you?” 

“Nothing,” you said calmly, “It’s just a precaution, alright. Just make sure that this box ends up with him if I’m not able to get it back.” 

“Who?” Soonyoung asked again after he took the box from you, but you were already walking away, “Y/N, who?” 

You paused and without looking at him answered, “Who else?” Then, you resumed walking. 

“Oh,” you glanced back at him, “make sure not to open it.” 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You stared at the crate of old beam guns under worktable. You had been packing up your belongings, clearing out your entire workshop so it would be easier for the others to take out when the time came, when you stumbled upon the pile of old beam guns you'd only managed to clean before putting them away for something else. 

Those would come in handy later, you knew, but there was no point in regretting what you hadn't done. Not when what you needed to do now was figure out how to make sure they were ready for when the time came. 

Jihoon. 

Right. 

At the most, you had two more hours before you and Joshua set off and you still needed to pack up your room. 

You chewed on your bottom lip. 

You really had no time to waste. 

Pushing yourself into action, you reached for the crate and rushed to Jihoon's workshop. 

He had his back to you when you stepped into his shop. A fire roared in his furnace, and though gusts of cold air were still making their way in through the front door, Jihoon had shrugged off his coat and the yellowing, long-sleeved shirt that he usually wore. He left himself in an old, thinning, light brown shirt. 

You could see the skin of his back, his shoulder blades moving with every movement he made. 

He had yet to notice you. 

"Jihoon," you called out. 

He froze but didn't turn around. In the silence, you felt more and more awkward. But you knew you had nothing to apologize for. 

Swallowing your feelings, you stepped forward, and while placing the crate of beam guns at his feet said, "I'm going to need you to fix these beam guns and get it done before I get back. Get Seungcheol to help you if you need help--" you rushed to the door, "Alright?" 

Jihoon was silent again. There was no sign that he acknowledged what you were saying but you knew you had his attention. 

After seconds that felt like they stretched on for minutes, you patted the door frustrated and left. You rushed to your door, pulled it shut, and then set off towards the house. 

You didn't have any time to waste. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Five minutes until midnight and everyone was standing in the living room staring at Joshua and you sadly. 

Everyone except Jihoon who had yet to be seen. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go find him?” Seungcheol asked. 

“No, it’s alright. It’s almost time to go, and I need to…” you took a moment to find the right words, “you know, lead.” 

“Y/N—”

“It’s alright,” you said, brushing a hand against your forehead, “let’s just get this done, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Alright,” you started, turning towards the rest who were leaning against the backs of the couches and armchairs, eyes moving between you and Joshua, “we’re going to be gone for four days. In the meantime, I’m going to need for all of you to pack up your things— everything and load it into the zeppelin. Do you understand?” 

They nodded. 

“I’ll need you guys to put my things in the zeppelin too. I’ve already packed my things, so all you need to do is go to my workshop, and my room, and grab the boxes and crates. Okay?” 

They nodded again. 

After nodding to them in return, you dug around the pockets of your blank pants for the key to your workshop. When you found it, you gave it to Seungcheol, and mumbled that it belonged to your workshop’s door. 

“Soonyoung,” you continued, “I’m going to assume that you’ve already finished repairs on the zeppelin, right?”

“Yeah. Fully functional.” 

“Good. Apart from our belongings, will it be capable of holding all our furniture too?” 

“I had to ask these three,” he motioned to Chan, Seokmin, and Mingyu, “to help me expand the roof of our garage so it would fit. A cockpit/entrance smaller than the rest, like a long basket and two floors above it, long and large. The furniture will fit.” 

“Good,” you nodded, “then don’t leave anything behind. Have it done before we come back. Understand?” 

“We got it, Y/N. Don’t worry, we’ll get it done.” 

You nodded at him then glanced at the thin timekeeper wrapped around your right wrist. 

Five minutes past midnight. 

Trying not to sigh, you glanced at everyone in the room. 

“Then we’re off. Best to travel under the veil of night.” 

“Be safe,” Seungcheol told you, giving Joshua a quick hug before following you until you reached the gate. 

You nodded at him then waved to your friends, “If something happens, leave without us. Don’t wait for us. Just go.” 

“Trust in us. Trust in Y/N. We’ll be back. We’ll be safe and on that, you can count on,” Joshua told him before turning to you, “Let’s get going.” 

And that was that. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Two days. 

More or less. 

It all depended on how time was being counted. 

You had traveled two nights, one full day, and were in the process of your second. 

To you, this meant two days. After all, you had left during the night. But in reality, you had only been away from home for less than two days. 

But you were finally there. 

After pushing each other to walk and ride trains both day and night, with the least amount of sleep you could get away with (five hours), you were finally there.

Standing atop a dune, deep in the Dunes of the Forgotten, that even you who had been exploring them since you were a kid hadn’t known existed, with canteen’s in one hand and a dry sandwich in the other, you looked at a run-down factory remembering it all too well. 

“Is… is that really it?” Joshua asked, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You nodded. The shimmering of the sun against the building almost made you believe you were looking at a mirage. 

“Yeah. I think it is.” 

Gulping, you both stuffed your sandwiches in your bags without a second of doubt and stumbled down the dune. 

You set off in a run through the scorching land, your eyes trained on the building ahead of you. 

Ten minutes of nonstop running, and burning throats, was nothing to you when you knew Jun was close. 

You came to a stop in front of a set of wide doors, both of you wheezing as you tried to catch your breaths. 

You knocked on the doors hesitantly. You didn’t know what to do but knocking felt like the most obvious answer. But when no answer came, your stomach started to churn. 

“Try again,” Joshua told you, shifting from foot to foot. 

You did, and the same thing happened: nothing. 

“What do we do now?” Joshua asked you, eyes glued to the knobs on the door. 

Without a word, you grabbed the knob and turned it. 

The door opened without any trouble, and it bothered you. 

Something was off. 

A single looking inside sent your brain into overdrive.

It was empty. 

And it wasn’t deceptively empty as it had been all those years ago— a ploy to make anyone who stumbled inside and didn’t pay attention, think that no one had ever stepped foot in there. 

No. 

This time, spiderwebs spread across corners, and a startled bird flew around then went out the open door. 

“Common,” you told Joshua. 

You stepped inside gingerly, quietly, suspicious of your surroundings. For all you knew, you had just stepped into a trap. 

Picking up a small rock just outside the door before it closed, you tossed it deeper into the room, and when nothing happened, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Joshua shot you a curious look. 

“Just making sure… Jun seems like the type to plant traps.”

“Right. Well, it looks like there aren’t any here, though.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “and that’s what worries me.” 

“Should we,” Joshua motioned further ahead. You nodded. 

You both walked slowly, you still on high alert, and Joshua growing increasingly more aware of his surroundings as your words started to sink in. 

You passed through the back door, and the room you had once woken up in, greeted you. It was emptier than you remembered it, no beds or cots, and cut wires were strewed across the dirt-covered floor.

The doors slammed shut behind you as you took curious steps forward. 

“It doesn’t look like anyone has been here for years,” you mumbled. 

“How did so much dirt even get inside?” Joshua said, heading towards the empty space where he remembered being strapped in a cot. You followed behind him slowly.

“Stop! Stop! Don’t move!” A familiar, panicked voice filled the room.

You both froze. 

An electric buzz filled the room, and you both could have sworn you felt as if something was stealing the air from you. Then it died down, but the fear in your bones kept you from moving. 

Chuu came running in through the large side doors. She looked at you two wide-eyed and moved her arms around frustrated, “You threw a rock in the last room! Why didn’t you throw one here!”

You gulped, “Why did we need to throw a rock in here?” 

Chuu smiled sheepishly and pointed at the corners, “Beam guns integrated into the corners. They would have been set off the moment you stepped foot anywhere near the center of the room.” 

You looked down at where you were standing and where you were heading. 

There were only a few steps left.

Swallowing your fear, you regarded Chuu with determination and straightened. But, Chuu didn’t miss the way that you swallowed before shifting on your feet. 

“The last time we were here, Jun said that if I needed help, I could come here.” 

Chuu nodded, a bright smile overtaking her face. 

“I need help. We need help. Me and my friends… I came to ask Jun for help.” 

“Okay,” Chuu nodded, “You’re going to have to wait though. We moved bases. I’m only here because I’m supposed to be watching this base.” 

“Jun isn’t here?” 

Chuu shook her head. 

“How long will it take for him to get here?” You asked, “We’re running out of time.” 

Chuu studied you for a moment before answering, “It’ll be a couple of hours, but he’ll get here before nightfall.” 

A squeak left your throat. Joshua laid a hand on your shoulder, “It’s alright. A couple of hours is alright.” 

You nodded. 

“Then, if you’ll follow me. You can wait upstairs in Jun’s old office with me,” Chuu said, bouncing on her feet. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A single couch— the same couch that had been there before, was the only thing in Jun’s old office, save for a monitor that was lying on the couch along with containers of food. 

Chuu had laughed and placed everything on the floor before offering you the couch. 

Four hours later, you were still waiting for Jun to arrive, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to accept the food Chuu seemed to have magically materialized. 

You didn’t want to say anything, but you felt like you were about to lose your mind. 

“I heard two old acquaintances found their way back after so many years because they need help!” Jun came bounding in through the doors. 

His eyes zoned in on you almost instantly, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I did take it upon myself to check in on you every now and then, just to see what you were up to.” 

You smiled. Over the years you had accepted the reasons why Jun had treated you the way he had before. You had admitted to yourself that you would have probably acted the same way. 

Besides, something about Jun radiated friendliness now that he knew he could trust you two. 

“A bit weird,” you said, “but, it does sound like something the King of the Dusty would do.”

“Yeah,” Jun laughed, “it is, isn’t it? So tell me, why have you finally come looking for me?” 

You bit your lips nervously, and Joshua, seeing that you were finding it hard to speak, spoke for you. 

“We need help. We need to get away, disappear into a new home. Sparks has sent an elite operative after us, and they’re close to finding us. We’re in danger.” 

“I see,” Jun said, eyebrows furrowing. 

“We were hoping you could help us.” 

“Well there are many options as to what I can do, I did say I would help you. But, I’m going to assume that you have some plan of your own?” 

“Yes,” you answered, “I want to move everyone to my old home, and I need help to make sure that no one captures us on our way there. Provide us with safety, back up. ” 

“Alright,” Jun nodded, “But I think you forgot something. If they managed to track you to where you are now, what’s to stop them from finding where you’ll be next?” 

A knot formed in your throat.

Sighing, Jun said, “Okay. I can’t do much if those asshole Sparks already discovered everything about you, but I can make your existence before the house you’re in now, disappear, in case they didn’t. Would you like that?” 

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“Okay,” Jun nodded, “Let’s review then. I need to give you enough protection for—” he unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve and rolled it up to reveal a gauntlet. He pressed a few buttons, and suddenly a list with your friend’s names popped up, “One…two…four…eight people.”

“Nine,” you bit your lips anxiously, “Nine people.”

“Nine?” Jun asked, “Jihoon, Chan, Seokmin, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Joshua and Seungcheol the ex-sparks and you… that’s eight, is it not?” 

“Yes, but someone else has joined us.” 

“Who?” Jun asked tensely, “Last time I checked—”

“It’s been a couple of months. Since Joshua and Seungcheol were discovered and came to live with us permanently. An… extra Sparkian was brought along.” 

“I’m sorry?” Jun asked incredulously, eyes narrowing on Joshua. 

Joshua, in turn, fidgeted in his seat and tried to shake his head as subtly as he could. 

“It wasn’t Joshua or Seungcheol. Soonyoung got involved with this… common Sparks girl, and since they found out that they were having contact between borders, he took her too.”

“So, this mess is because of them isn’t it?” 

You were about to deny his statement, and lie, but Jun beat you to it. 

“Don’t lie. It’s not hard to figure out why they choose to send some elite after all of you now that there’s some nobody in the mix. A regular Sparks,” he said disdainfully at the word, “citizen means it wasn’t that hard to commit treason. Joshua and Seungcheol— not so much since they were regarded as up and coming.” 

You nodded silently. 

“No,” Jun said plainly. “I can’t help you.” He stood up and started walking to the door. 

“Why not?” You said. “It’s just one more person.” 

“One more person that I don’t know anything about, and I’m not willing to place my family in danger. Are you?”

You fought back tears, “Please, I— I can’t protect them all on my own. This is— it’s too much for me, for any of us to deal with on our own.” 

“I’m not risking anyone for some Sparkian.”

“But you’d be willing to risk it for Joshua and Seungcheol? They came from Sparks too.” 

“Joshua and Seungcheol have already proven themselves to be more Dusty than Spark. They chose to leave to be here— do you really think I didn’t have my eyes on them when they were in Sparks? I saw them bring supplies for you from Sparks when they could. I saw how they protected their Dusty workers in ways that could only go unnoticed by those damn Sparks. Tell me,” Jun huffed out frustrated, “what has that Spark done that places her on our side?” 

You bit your lips. Jun’s words mirrored your thoughts, and you knew you couldn’t deny the blatant truth in his words. 

“Nothing,” you sighed, “We don’t know her at all, and quite frankly I don’t like her either.”

“Exactly,” Jun said, grinning at you like you’d hit the mark, “Leave her. She’s not one of you. She’s not one of us.” 

“I can’t, Jun. I can’t. Soonyoung would do something stupid like stay with her, and I’m not leaving him behind.” 

Jun sighed, “I don’t trust Sparks, Y/N.” 

“But why? Why can’t you trust one more? You aren’t going to have her around forever.” 

“Because,” Jun chuckled sadly, and the same look you had seen him get in his eyes the first time you met appeared again, “I had a friend…. but they took him. They took him.”

And you didn’t know if Jun even knew he was speaking. His eyes were far away, and he mumbled something about his friend so low under his breath nobody could make it out.

“Jun,” you pleaded, “please help us.” 

His eyes refocused on you, and the smile he usually sported, even when he was frustrated, was gone. 

“What you’re asking for isn’t help anymore. What you’re asking of me is a favor and favors come with prices.”

“Fine,”  you nodded, “A favor. What’s your price? What is it you want?” 

Jun regarded you with an expressionless look for a couple of seconds that stretched on to feel like minutes, “I want you to help me.”

“Help you?” 

“Help me lead my army of Dusties.” 

“Army?” You choked out. 

“Army,” Jun grinned. 

You looked at Chuu standing beside him for confirmation. She nodded at you grimly, her mouth pursed into a thin line. 

“The revolution is here,” Jun giggled, opening his arms wide and turning in a circle, “Sparks is going to pay for treating us like dogs.” 

“You want me to help you lead a revolution?!”

Jun hummed in answer, “You’ve come this far to save your friends, and you’re not giving up on saving someone you don’t even care for. All because you know that person means something to someone close to you.” 

Jun chuckled, “I think you’ve already proven that you would make a reliable leader, a good Queen of the Dusty.” 

You stared at him unblinkingly, studying the small smirk on his face. Your thoughts ran wild as you tried to think of why he would want you to help him. What benefit could he possibly get out of making you Queen of the Dusty? 

“Your friends, of course, will be given the opportunity to join us. They can be given a home with the rest of my family, or they can choose to move on and live uninvolved where you wanted them to,” he paused to give you a careful look, “Of course, you’ll get to visit them, but precautions will have to be taken.” 

You nodded in understanding, first to him and then to yourself. It meant nothing besides you understanding what he was saying, what he was proposing to you. 

You looked at Joshua, and he gave you a small shrug. 

This was your choice. 

.

.

.

.

“Deal.”

Jun cheered, “The revolution is here! Sparks is going to pay for everything they’ve done to us!”

You nodded, your fists clenching as you tried not to think of what you had agreed to, “Now help us.” 

“Okay,” Jun nodded, “Follow me to the next room.” 

The next room— the room in front of the one you were previously in, was smaller and darker. The windows had been covered by wooden planks and a layer of cardboard. 

A single table stood at the center with an array of objects on it. Some beam guns, some laser guns, some gauntlets, and more. 

Jun chuckled quietly, “I had a feeling that if someone came to ask me for help it would end up involving weapons. But I’m not sure if I brought enough or if it’s safe for you to carry so many.” 

“No, probably not,” Joshua said, eyes passing over everything laying on the table. 

“Go ahead and take a look,” Jun told him, “Grab what you think will be useful to you.” 

“No,” you cut in before Joshua could move, “we have weapons already.”

Jun nodded to himself, “Alright. Do you have a way to move quickly?” 

“A zeppelin,” you said, “It’s big, and it’ll hold all our things.” 

“Okay. You’re going to need this,” Jun walked up to the table and grabbed a small, thin, rectangular piece of metal. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s an auto-chip. Your ship should have a slot to insert it into. It’ll pilot your ship and take you wherever I send the signal.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, taking it from his hands. 

“It’s going to be at the center of four large dunes that almost look like mountains. You’ll have to leave your ship there and walk the rest of the way.”  

“Don’t worry,” Chuu cut in, pointing on herself, “me and my team have developed a little something that’ll hide your ship. If anyone even gets close, we’ll be ready to defend.”

“Thank you,” you told her, “really. But, where are we going?”

“A mansion,” Jun said. 

“A what?” 

“A large structure, bigger than they have here in the Dusty. But I thought they only existed in Sparks…” Joshua told you. 

“Mostly,” Jun said, “But you can’t take your ship there. Which is why you’ll have to walk the rest of the way.” 

“How long is it going to take?” 

“From home to the dunes: half a day. From the dunes to the mansion: a couple of hours.” 

“We’re going to be exposed the entire way.” 

“Yes and no.”

Jun glanced at the table and picked out one of the gauntlets. He held out a hand for your’s, “Your arm.” 

You held out your arm for him and watched quietly as Jun fitted the gauntlet around it. It cupped around your arm, and the open part that rested on your inner arm closed by pulling on the thin straps on the bottom and top edges. The straps looped individually through individual buckles like belts that lied neatly against the gauntlet. 

You studied the top of it with renewed interest. You’d only ever seen them on Jun and Chuu. 

Small buttons rested on it, the letters of the alphabet on them like the old keyboards your parents had shown you when you were younger. 

“How does this…”

“A lot of it can be learned through exploring,” Chuu told you as Jun turned back to the table, “But for now, the most important thing to know is that if you press ‘Q,’ ‘A’ and ‘Z’ in that order, the map of the mansion will appear. Go ahead and try. I’ve already connected yours to our server through mine and shared the map with you.” 

You did as told and a green, holographic map shot out a small piece of glass between the ‘G’ and ‘H’ key at the center of the gauntlet. 

You jumped. 

Chuu giggled at your reaction, “For now, that’s the only map that will appear. Later you’ll acquire more maps, and you’ll need to choose from a list from using the same letters.” 

“That… sounds difficult.” 

“At first, but it’s rather easy to learn. Hold down ’T' to see the time and ‘M’ if you need to speak to one of us but can’t actually speak. It’ll allow you to message us— well, for now, just Jun and me.”

“For now, though,” Jun said, still facing the table, “I’ll only be giving you these. One set. And to complete it, you’ll also need this.” 

Turning around, he held a thin piece of metal that was curved into a ‘c’ figure. Upon closer inspection, you realized that the object’s shape was designed to look like little branches forming a trail in the form of a c, or was it… 

“This is attached to the outer rim of your ear, like an earring. You’ll need to wear it so I can talk to you through it and you to me.”

“How do I?” You asked as he gave it to you. 

“Just,” he grabbed the helix, the little bit of the ear that made the edge of his ear, “place it here, and it should attach itself automatically.” 

You shuddered when you did and felt the cold metal curl around your ear like it had a life of its own. 

“Brush it downwards to turn it on and upwards to turn it off. Simple.” 

“Got it,” you nodded, “but can we only have one? Maybe if Josh—” 

“Y/N, it’s fine. I don’t need any of this,” Joshua interrupted you. 

“Yes, yes you do. Even if there aren’t enough for everyone, one more would be enough.”

“Sadly, Joshua is still Sparks, and even though he’s more Dusty now, I think we both know I can’t bring myself to trust him completely.”

Joshua nodded in understanding and when you looked like you were about to protest, he tried to reassure you, “We only need one, anyways. If we had more then everyone would try to lead and we’d up going in circles.” 

You bit your lips as you thought about Joshua’s words.

“Alright. I guess you’re right.” 

“Then it’s agreed,” Jun said, nodding at the two of you, “You’ll set off early tomorrow morning.” 

“No,” you shook your head, “we need to leave tonight so we make it back quickly.” 

“There’s no need,” Chuu told you, “you need to rest and eat first. We’ll send you a map with the quickest route back. You’ll get there early morning after a day of travel.” 

“Then we should go now,” you said, “Right, Joshua?” 

“Right,” Joshua nodded, “The faster we make it back, the better.” 

“I won’t allow it,” Jun said sternly, “It’s obvious by the state of your faces that you wouldn’t last another day of walking without proper rest.” 

Chuu nodded. 

“But—”

“No excuses,” Jun told you, “You’ll both rest here for the rest of the day. You’ll set off tomorrow morning.” 

“In the meantime,” Chuu grinned and approached you with something behind her back. A smell wafted into your personal space and your legs all but buckled underneath you. 

“I have food for the two of you.” 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The early morning sun wasn’t as hot as the sun that beat against your backs around midday. But, combined with the stress of trying to make it home as soon as you could, the early morning sun was enough to make your shirts stick to your backs and sweat run down your faces. 

"Sun rises at six," Joshua told you as you rested, sitting on a pair of small boulders, "We should be close. Can you check the map again?”

You chuckled lowly before punching in the code into the gauntlet and extending your arm towards Joshua for him to see. You took a swig of water from your canteen as he looked. 

“I don’t— I don’t understand.”

“We don’t really need a map right now,” you said, switching the gauntlet off. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We’re only a couple of miles away. Don’t you recognize the boulders we’re sitting on?” 

Joshua studied the rock below him. He couldn’t really tell if it was something that he had been near before. Rocks all looked like rocks to him. There was nothing special to them. It made him wonder how you were able to tell that these were a pair of boulders that you should be familiar with. 

“Common,” you told him, shrugging on your bag, “We’re almost there.” 

So you walked, and half an hour later, as your legs grew sore and heavier, after climbing a sand dune that felt all too familiar, you found yourselves experiencing dejavú. 

Your home laid in the distance. 

The pain in your legs disappeared, and without a second of doubt, you stubbled down the dune. You set off running when your feet touched flat ground.

Ten minutes later, you came to a sudden halt, pulling Joshua into a halt before he could run past you. 

“What?” Joshua panted, “Why’d we stop? We’re almost there.” 

You were less than half a mile from the main entrance of your home, and pacing at the front was Jihoon, a beam gun clutched in his hands.

“Something’s wrong,” you told Joshua, nails digging into his forearm as you watched Jihoon pace back and forth.

Joshua squinted at Jihoon’s relentless figure, “He… won’t stop pacing.” 

“We have to make sure he sees us as we get closer or…”

“Or,” Joshua echoed as you stepped forward. 

You waited until it felt like you were close enough for him to hear you before yelling, “Jihoon!” 

He didn’t seem to hear you, so you kept walking. 

“Jihoon!”

Nothing. You kept walking forward. 

“Jihoon!” 

He stopped pacing and whipped around to face your direction. “Y/N?!” 

“Jihoon!” You started jogging forward. 

“Y/N!” He yelled again, his eyes training on your growing figure. “Y/N!” He yelled again, taking some steps forward. 

You could tell, based on how the pitch of his voice rose the second he yelled your name, that he had finally seen you and knew it was you coming up to the house. 

You both ran then, towards each other as fast your feet could carry you and almost barreled into each other when you didn’t slow down though you neared. 

“Y/N!” Jihoon laughed giddy, pulling you into a bear hug. 

You froze, the worry you felt at seeing Jihoon pacing outside your home with a beam gun so early morning, gone. Instead, you remembered the things that had happened between you two the day you had set off. 

Your heart panged inside your chest. 

Then, as you pushed him away, you started to question him, “What are you doing outside so early morning? What’s going on? Why are you using a beam gun so openly?”

You took a couple of steps back and forced yourself to look at his face instead of staring at the floor like you wanted to. 

He looked like crap.

His black hair was tousled like he’d been running his hands through his hair nonstop. His eyes were bloodshot, and under them, black bags hung heavily. 

“Chan and Seokmin went out for a run the day you left, and they were attacked,” he spoke frantically as if adrenaline were running through his veins nonstop. 

“What?!” You asked, fear starting to chew at your nerves, “Are they okay?!” 

“No,” Jihoon shook his head, “Seokmin’s okay, but Chan was shot in the leg. He can barely walk without help. Seokmin had to carry him all the way back.”

“Oh no, no, no,” you started, shaking your head.

“That’s not all,” Jihoon said, staring unblinkingly at you, “he was shot with a laser gun. He said they looked like Sparks, and neither of them are sure if they weren’t followed back.” 

You were horrified. 

“I told everyone— I told Seungcheol to leave this place if anything happened,” you snapped angrily. 

“I wasn’t leaving without you!” Jihoon snapped in return. 

You glared at him. Who was he to chose to keep everyone there when it wasn’t safe any more just because you weren’t there. 

Turning away from him, you addressed Joshua, “Find Seungcheol, tell him we’re back. We leave as soon as we can.” Then, without sparing Jihoon a glance, you ran past him and into the house. 

“Y/N,” he yelled, running after you, “Y/N, wait!” But you ignored him, even as his footsteps pounded against the floor behind you, and kept running. 

A quick turn into the right-hand hallway, then left when you reached the corner, and you were barreling into the first door on your left— the bedroom turned infirmary. 

Chan gasped as he sat up, startled as you rushed in, and the door to the infirmary banged against the wall. You had woken him from a restless bout of sleep he was having. 

Sleeping in a chair next to his elevated bed was Soonyoung, equally as startled as Chan, it seemed, as he rocketed out of the chair. 

“You’re back,” Soonyoung mumbled groggily as he processed that he wasn’t in danger. 

“I’m back,” you nodded though you didn’t acknowledge him in any other way. 

You approached Chan warily, giving him a once over with your eyes. 

Chan shifted sheepishly under your gaze, “Morning, Y/N.” 

“Show me,” you said to him. 

“Y/N,” Soonyoung gulped, “it’s fine. He’s fine.”

“I asked you to show me.”

Nodding, Chan pulled the blanket off the lower half of his body and waited for your reaction. 

Three wooden planks were tied against his leg, with pieces of rope that had been cut in a rush it seemed to you because of the frayed ends you could point out, like a splint. His left pant leg had even been cut off so that his lower leg could breathe freely. 

“What happened?” You asked slowly, inching your way forward, “Did they break your leg?” 

“I think,” Chan said quietly, “I can’t walk, it hurts too much.” 

“Oh.” Lifting a shaky hand to hover over his broken leg, you traced the edges of the splint. 

“I gave orders,” you whispered, “why did none of you follow them?”

“Jihoon refused to leave without you,” Seungcheol spoke up from the door. 

While you had been contemplating Chan’s injury, Seungcheol along with everyone one else, had made their way to the infirmary, both eager and terrified of the anger that could be brewing inside of you now that you knew that someone had been injured while you had been gone and they hadn’t followed your orders. 

Jihoon stood behind him, eyes wide and panting as he stared at you before lowering his head to stare at the floor. 

You swallowed the retorts that threatened to leave your mouth. You remained focused on Chan’s leg and eventually cupped his cheeks the way you used to when he was younger. 

“We have to go,” you said, holding back tears, hoping he didn’t notice, “If I help you, do you think you can make it to the zeppelin?”

“Yeah,” Chan nodded. 

“Good,” you said, already helping Chan turn his body, “Put your arms around my shoulders.” 

“Let me h—” Seungcheol started before you snapped at him. 

“I’ve got it.” 

Silently, Seungcheol stepped forward and slipped your backpack off your shoulders, “I’ll help you like this, at least.”

You ignored him but let him take the pack off your shoulders. Then, as gently as you could, you helped Chan stand and throw his weight onto you. 

Everyone retreated from the door as you took slow steps, Chan getting accustomed to walking with one foot instead of two. 

They were slow steps, but they were gradually building up from the turtle-like speed that you started with. 

When you made it outside, you stopped and took a long look at the path straight ahead of you. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to your workshop? Someone else could help me get to the zeppelin?” 

“No,” you smiled sadly in the workshop’s direction, “if I go there, I might never want to leave,” and without giving either of you time to dwell on your words, you led him away from that path and down the one on your left. 

You were quiet as you walked, the only sound coming into existence from the crunching of rocks against the soles of your shoes. 

“Did you already put everything in the zeppelin?” 

It took them a moment to realize you were addressing them and not Chan. 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol said. 

By the sound of his voice, you came to the conclusion that he was walking directly behind you. 

“My workshop? The beds? Bulbs? Cables?” 

“Everything’s been taken care of. We’ve been sleeping in sleeping bags for a day.” 

“The infirmary was in use.” 

“For Chan’s use only but we—”

“Need to go back. All of you need to go back and make sure that you didn’t miss anything. When you’re done making sure you’ve taken everything useful, then clean up the infirmary as fast as you can.” 

“Someone should stay with you to take care of Chan.” 

“I don’t need help.” 

“But—”

“Joshua,” you cut in, “give Seungcheol your bag.” 

There was shifting behind you, and you knew, even as you got further away, that they were doing as you said. Then a single pair of footsteps ran to catch up to you. 

“Run ahead and leave the bags in the zeppelin, then go help the rest. Send Soonyoung when you’ve checked the entire house and the workshops.” 

“Are you sure about this, Y/N? Someone should really stay with you and Chan to help you.” 

“That’s why you’re going to send Soonyoung— and only Soonyoung, when you’re done inspecting the house. Everyone else will help you clear the infirmary, but Soonyoung will stay with me.” 

Seungcheol sighed next to you before nodding and taking off in a run. 

He was gone for two minutes before you saw him. He nodded at you as he ran past you, and four minutes later, you were standing gobsmack in front of the garage. 

Though you had already seen it all, your eyes continued to trail upwards and downwards, tracing the structure before you. Now you understood why Soonyoung had told you that they had to rebuild the roof to have the zeppelin fit. 

“H-how big is this?” You asked, stuttering a bit because the structure of the zeppelin felt daunting to you. 

“I’m not sure,” Chan mumbled, tired from all energy he was using to walk, “I think Soonyoung said something about 30 or 40 feet… 9… 12… meters.” 

“Is that s—” you stopped. You had been turning to look at Chan as you spoke, and when your eyes fell on him, you realized that Chan was working hard to keep his eyes open and his head up.

“Sorry, Chan,” you whispered, “let’s get you to a bed, yeah?” 

You entered the airship and made your way up the stairs and onto the second floor where more than a dozen doors greeted you. 

“Is it here, Chan?” You shook him a little to have him give you directions. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled after a couple of seconds, “my room is the… second door on the left.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding as you led him forward. You walked slowly, carefully, just as you had done on the stairs.

You turned the cold, metal knob on the second door and opened up to a small, rectangular room with a thin bed attached to the right wall and half a table attached to the other. 

“This is a broom closet.” 

“Well, we needed a way to make sure that everyone had somewhere to sleep.” 

Startled at the sound of Soonyoung’s voice behind you, you drove Chan into the doorframe. 

“Oh. Oh. I’m so sorry, Chan,” you whispered hurriedly to him. 

As gently as you could, you rushed him into the room, pushed the covers to the foot of the bed, and helped him lie down. You were about to leave him when Soonyoung spoke. 

“Cover him, the higher we go, the colder it’ll get it.” 

“What?” You stared at him confusedly. 

“It’s going to get colder while we’re flying.”

“Alright,” you said hesitantly before nodding and turning around to fix the cover over Chan. “Did you guys give him something, or did he lose stamina over the last four days.”

“We gave him some heavy pain meds,” Soonyoung told you as you exited Chan’s room and closed the door behind you, “one every day. Guess they’re heavier than I thought.” 

You nodded and motioned for him to follow you down to the cockpit, “I have this thing—” you dug around your pocket, trying to remember the name of the object Jun had given you, “an… an… auto-chip. It’s supposed to pilot our ship on its own.” You took the auto-chip out from deep in your left pocket as you made it down and showed it to him. 

“He said that zeppelins have this thing where this is put in.” You stopped in front of the main controls. “We need to find it.” 

“May I?” Soonyoung asked, hands aiming for the chip. You handed it over wordlessly.

Moments passed in silence as Soonyoung studied it, and you had half a mind to take it from him and find the slot yourself. 

That is until Soonyoung’s head whipped around to look at you. 

“I think I may know where this goes.” 

“You do?!” 

“Yeah,” he nodded and pointed at the main controls. 

You followed him with your eyes. 

“Please be careful with it.” 

Soonyoung hummed in response and curled three fingers around it while he trailed his fingers over the controls. 

“I know it’s here… somewhere… aha!” Soonyoung screamed when he reached the zeppelin’s wheel, “Here it is!” 

You rushed to take a peek. On the wheel’s outer edge, a small rectangular slot had been carved in. 

“Shall we?” Soonyoung asked. 

You nodded, “Do it.” 

Soonyoung flipped a switch on the control panel and brought the zeppelin to life. All around you the ship buzzed to life. Lights became brighter, the control panel suddenly had colorful lights, and to your sides and in front you, metal rose and revealed windows. 

He looked at you for a second before smiling and pushing the chip into the slot. You grinned as it slid in. 

“Auto-Chip recognized. Destination accepted. Rise for auto-chip to take effect.” 

“Oo, ho-ho,” Soonyoung laughed, “I didn’t even know it could do that.” 

“You two almost gave us heart attacks outside!” Seungcheol said behind you, startling you enough to jump. “We thought this thing was about to blow up!” 

“You’re the one from Sparks! Shouldn’t you be used to these types of noises coming from ships?” You grinned at him. Your gaze jumped from him to the others staring at you and Soonyoung behind Seungcheol. Your gaze wanted to gravitate towards Jihoon, but just as you were about to land on him, you looked back to Seungcheol. 

“Are you guys done? Has everything been gathered?” 

“We’ve gotten everything,” he shook the box you hadn’t noticed he was carrying, “We checked the workshops too and your room. There is some furniture inside though— from the infirmary, we need to bring it onboard.” 

You nodded, “Quickly then. We don’t have any time to waste.” 

“No,” Seungcheol eyed you, “no, we don’t, and you still have to tell us what happened and what those things on you are. Didn’t think we notice you coming back with tech we’ve never seen before?” 

You sighed. You knew he was referring to the trip to find the King of the Dusty, but you weren’t sure how much you could tell him or them. By the looks of it, Joshua had made sure to tell them nothing at least.  

You hummed, “Once we take off, I’ll tell you guys what happened.” 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The zeppelin shook with turbulence as you flew. Everyone leaned against the back wall as you and Joshua stood at the front by the control panels and told them about what had gone down when you found the King of the Dusty. 

You skipped some details though— the fact that you’d met the King of the Dusty before, the fact that you had known his name before or Chuu’s.

“Wait,” Mingyu cut in from Seungcheol’s right, “but how did you know to look in that building.” 

You blinked at him, dumbfounded.

“Old rumors that we’ve heard before. Little signs that he leaves behind for people who need to find him,” Joshua answered for you. 

“So he just decided that he would trust you, trust us, and gave you these things? That doesn’t sound safe,” Soonyoung added, narrowing his eyes at the floor as he thought.

You couldn’t help but give him a pointed look, “It doesn’t, does it? Sound any familiar to you?” 

It happened in a moment of anger, and by the time you realized what you had done, it was too late.

Soonyoung’s head turned to look at you at the speed of light, his eyes now glaring at you. But, rather than backing down, you matched his gaze. 

“Well there goes the friendly atmosphere,” Seungcheol muttered under his breath. 

Joshua coughed, “He actually has an intricate network and knew who we were and everything about us before he met with us. But he did want us to tell him honestly why we wanted his help before letting us know he already knew.” 

You nodded, and though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help the words that left you when you saw Luz trying to sneak away from Soonyoung’s side, taking to advantage that she was the closest to the stairs. 

“Not much space for you to hide around here is there,” you hissed. 

While Luz stopped moving, Soonyoung stepped in front of her and blocked her from your view. His eyes threw daggers at you. 

“What?” you spit, “She can’t stand up for herself? She needs you to stand up to the big bad wolf?”

Wordlessly, Soonyoung moved back to his position against the wall. You would have believed that he was giving you the go-ahead to try something were it not for the hand you saw pulling him aside. 

Luz gripped his brown, long-sleeved shirt near his waist where it was tucked into his pants. She didn’t say anything but leaned against the wall like nothing had happened, avoiding meeting your eyes by staring at her feet. 

“Right,” you scoffed under your breath. 

“Is that really it?” Seungcheol jumped in, “He really agreed to help us without any conditions?” 

For a brief moment, you felt two hot suns burning your face.

Then it was gone. 

Without meaning to, your gaze fell on Jihoon. His arms were crossed, and he stared at the floor expressionless. He was tense.  

You looked at his lips— set into a straight line.

Then you looked away. The knot in your throat was back, and you had to cough before answering Seungcheol. 

It wasn’t easy, lying to them. You didn’t like to do it. But you knew that if you said something at this moment, there would be hell to pay. 

Seungcheol, Seokmin, Jihoon… all of them would try navigating the ship somewhere else. They’d refuse the help you’d gotten from Jun. 

“No conditions,” you smiled, “He’s the King of the Dusty, after all, and all he really does is help his fellow Dusties.” 

Your gaze studied the lot of them— an excuse to take another peek at Jihoon. 

His eyes were closed, but he didn’t look as tense as he did before. 

“Alright,” Seungcheol said, “I guess this meeting is over then. Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you’re all free to go rest or stay here if you want. We’ll go get you when we’re close to landing.” 

Around you, everyone started to shuffle, heading for the stairs, except for Seungcheol and Soonyoung, who approached you instead. 

“I’ll take the pilot’s seat for a while,” Soonyoung grumbled. 

Then when it was only the two of them left, Seungcheol motioned for you to follow him to the back.

“What’s up?” 

“I think you should go talk to Jihoon.” 

“What?” 

“You really think I didn’t notice that longing look you gave him a few minutes ago? Or the fact that he wasn’t there the day that you left?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Seungcheol sighed, “Y/N, I might not know what’s going on between the two of you, but I do know that the two of you need to talk.” 

“Why should I?” You grumbled, “I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one who—.” You stopped abruptly, your cheeks burning red.

Seungcheol lifted an eyebrow in curious accusation.

“Fine,” you mumbled, “I’ll go find him.” 

“End of the hallway, last bedroom,” Seungcheol said to you as you walked up the stairs. 

You walked with a million thoughts running inside your head. But out of all of them, only two ran faster than the rest, sticking out painfully to you like a sore thumb. 

One - What were you supposed to say to him when you saw him? You were still mad at him for keeping everyone at home when they were in danger… for not going to see you off… for kissing you to get you to stay.   

Two - His kiss…

You huffed, arms crossed, as you stopped on the second floor. You couldn’t stop picturing the kiss— couldn’t stop feeling Jihoon’s warmth spreading throughout you. 

Even when you were traveling with Joshua, the heat of the sun made you think of the kiss, and all you could do to distract yourself was to count the number of steps you were taking numbly. 

Hallucinations were real and you hadn’t wanted to admit that you had almost screamed when Jihoon had appeared in front of you one night, inches from your face. 

You were frustrated. You felt like working on something - taking some time off in your workshop. You had half a mind to go to the third floor and dig around the crates of your workshop to find something to do. 

Clang! A noise from the floor above you. 

A new thought made its way into your head. 

Who else would want to spend time where nothing but boxes lined the floor? Would it be so much to assume that Jihoon felt like he needed to spend some time in his own workshop?

You nodded.

Instead of following the hallway down to the last door, you turned and kept going up the stairs, into the open space of the third floor. 

Couches were stacked one atop another to your left. Beds were in neat rows to your right, boxes of their things atop the beds forming small walls. Crates full of other objects were stacked on the floor near the beds too, a few things having toppled out during turbulence, you guessed. 

It felt like walls had been built using the crates, forming a narrow pathway and blocking off both sides of the room. 

You walked down the pathway, looking for a way through. 

In the gaps between the crates and the boxes, you could see into the other sides. On the right, you could see a wide set of shoulders. You knew who they belonged to.

You kept walking, studying him through the gaps, watching him work. 

He kneeled in front of a crate and pulled something out. He held it in his lap, away from prying eyes. 

At the end of the pathway, you found a larger gap, like a small doorway that led into the area. 

You stepped through it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked Jihoon as you came closer to him,  “You should be sleeping.” 

He tensed at the sound of your voice.

“Jihoon, common,” you insisted behind him, “It’s going to be a long day, and you rest.”

When he continued on whatever he was working on, you peered over his shoulder.

You sighed. 

“I asked you to finish those before I got back.” 

“Well, I didn’t,” he grumbled. 

“How many more?” 

“Three.” 

You thought for a moment, “Leave it. We’ll have to walk in pairs anyways. We’ll share.”

Without waiting for a response, you took the broken beam gun out of his hands, and chucked it into the crate he had pulled it out from. Jihoon remained unmoving and you had to grab his hand and pull him for him to follow. 

You walked briskly down the stairs, never once letting go of his hand as he trailed behind you.

“I thought I committed sins so terrible, you decided I didn’t exist,” he said as he pulled you into a stop as you walked down the second-floor hallway to his room. 

“What?” You asked, turning around to look at him. You flinched when you locked eyes with his tired, sunken ones. They were sharp and heavy. It looked like he was tired of everything. 

Jihoon stayed silent. You were forced to acknowledge what he had said. 

You scoffed, “I’m still mad at you, Jihoon. You put them in danger by staying.” 

“I wasn’t going to leave without you,” Jihoon snapped, voice rising. 

“Jihoon—”

“Just because you could leave without me doesn’t mean I’d leave without you!” 

“Is this still about leaving to find the King?!” You snapped, “If you wanted to come with me, you should have just said so instead of kissing me to manipulate me into staying!”

“I wasn’t—” 

“You can’t mess with my emotions, Jihoon! That isn’t okay!” 

“I wasn’t trying to mess with your emotions! Did you ever consider that I kissed you because I love you!”  

“I told you not to mess with—” 

“I’ve loved you since we were kids!” 

Silence. 

Whatever words you were about to scream at Jihoon died on the tip of your tongue. Anger was replaced by shock, and eventually, you realized that through it all, you hadn’t once let go of each other’s hands. 

Then your surroundings started coming into focus. 

Pairs of eyes peeked out of the slithers of the doors cracked open. Even Seungcheol and Soonyoung were poking their heads out from the stairs to watch the two of you. 

Everyone had seen you two. 

Everyone had heard you two.

Jihoon gave your hand a squeeze and brought your focus back to him. You swallowed, and in the span of three seconds, squeezed Jihoon’s hand and pulled him all the way to his room, where he slammed the door shut. 

Your back to him, you let go of his hand and rubbed your eyes silently. 

“Y/N,” Jihoon whispered.

Adrenaline shot through you at the sound of your name. In a flash, you turned around and smashed your lips against Jihoon’s. 

Your hands threaded through his hair, toying with it as you kissed him slowly, passionately. He tasted just like the first time you two had kissed— strawberries.

His hands gripped your waist as he responded eagerly to your kiss, trying to speed it up. 

But, as much as you wanted to speed up and have him push you against the door or push you onto his bed, there were more important things to be done. 

Still, you smiled as you tugged on his bottom lip, pulling away, Jihoon chasing your lips as you moved. 

“You have to get some sleep, Ji.” 

He hummed, “Fine. But you have to get some too. Knowing you, you probably skipped as much sleep as you could to rush back.” 

You chuckled as he got under the covers of his bed and laid on his back. He patted the small space next to him. 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You kicked off your shoes and slid in next to him. You curled into his side and his natural heat enveloped you, your breaths starting to even out. 

“Jihoon?” You whispered. 

He hummed in response. 

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A rude awakening greeted you sooner than you could have hoped for. But it hadn’t come in a way you may have forgotten existed in the safety of Jihoon’s arms as you slept. 

It hadn’t been when Soonyoung pounded on your door to wake you or when Jihoon gave you the beam guns to hand out. 

It hadn’t happened when you asked everyone to carry a backpack with the things they couldn’t bear to leave behind or when you asked Soonyoung to take the box you had given him in his bag. 

It hadn’t happened when you locked the door on the zeppelin or when you had shut it closed. 

Looking back at the zeppelin as the group made it through the dunes, and you turned on your earpiece, had been painful, but your rude awakening had yet to come. 

It was only after hours of walking under the afternoon sun, before the temperature started to drop, that you felt reality sinking in. 

“I told you we’d need the portable fans!” Chan groaned. “You’re just lucky I brought yours, or you’d be dying too.” 

You had smirked at Chan’s outburst. He was being given a piggyback ride by Mingyu, Seokmin on their right. A miniature, solar-powered fan was around both their necks, intertwining them. Chan had given Seokmin the other. 

You had taken a moment to check you were going the right way, and as you stared at the holo map from the gauntlet, reality sunk in. 

Fear gnawed at your nerves. 

You were walking in the open air, mostly relaxed, it seemed. But… Chan had gotten hurt a couple of days ago and at the worst, there was a Sparkian elite following your trail— to capture you all, to kill you all.

You didn’t know if anyone was following behind you. 

You didn’t know if something would happen at that moment or even later. 

Would you manage to make it past this day alive? 

Then, for the rest of your trek, more thoughts than you’d like to admit started to pop in. 

Jihoon holding your hand as you walked, even though they felt like they were welded together because of the sun, had been the only thing keeping you from having a breakdown.

Now, standing at the side door of the left side of the mansion, you studied the map again, trying not to listen to yourself. 

A squeak in your receiver momentarily brought you out of your head, “Y/N? It’s Jun. Can you hear me?” 

“I can hear you,” you mumbled, facing the door. You had made everyone wait a couple of feet behind you while you made sure everything was going as planned. 

“Great. Did you find the side door?” 

“Found it. What about the zeppelin?” 

“Everything’s good. When you open the map for the mansion, you’ll see a trail leading you down to the basement. You’ll be traveling to a level below that. We’ll be getting the train ready while you get here.” 

“Got it.” 

“Make sure to check your surroundings as you go.” 

You turned around, “Let’s go. I want pairs of two. Seokmin stick with Chan and Mingyu.”

You smiled when you saw Jihoon walking up to you, then a shiver ran down your spine— one that put your nerves on edge. 

“A-actually, Ji, would you mind leading the pack with Seungcheol?”

“What?” Jihoon looked at you suspiciously. “Why do we need to split up? We should stick together.” 

You contemplated his words, but something still felt off. You threw the group a quick glance to make sure they weren’t watching you before you fixed the suspenders he had put on. Your hands rested on his shoulders before cupping his cheeks and giving him a quick kiss. 

You didn’t think you’d ever get enough of him. 

“Aren’t you the one trying to manipulate me now?” 

“No,” you chuckled, “I just really wanted to do that. But I do still want you to lead us with Cheol. I’ll take the back with Joshua.” 

Jihoon sighed, “But why?” 

“Strength,” you said. “You and Cheol are the fastest with beam guns. I want you to scope the rooms we’re going into to make sure there aren’t any people who aren’t supposed to be there.” 

Jihoon nodded, “Alright, I’ll take the front with Seungcheol. But stay safe in the back, alright?” 

“Mingyu,” you called out, “give Seungcheol your beam gun. Seokmin be ready for anything. Seungcheol, take the front with Jihoon, scope out rooms. I’ll take the back with Joshua.” 

In a matter of minutes, the group was ready, forming a line of pairs and waiting for you to give the go-ahead. 

You opened the map and studied the surplus of rooms and hallways the building offered. It was large and wide, bigger than you had ever seen in a home. 

You found the trail that Jun had marked for you, “This is the only access point to the mansion. Our destination is two levels below ground. Go straight through this room and to the door, we’ll take the far northern door of the hallway.” 

They nodded, and you were off.

The first room you entered was covered in plain, gray dust most unlike the red dust-dirt hybrid that the Dusty was so famous for. Furniture laid covered with under white sheets, not a speck of red on them. 

“Anyone else finding this creepy?” Mingyu whispered. 

“There’s not a speck of red anywhere,” Seungcheol spoke ahead, eyes still trailing over everything in the room. 

“It’s like this has gone untouched by time,” Joshua whispered next to you. 

“Well don’t let it suck us in. Keep going,” you told them. Truthfully, even you were unnerved by the image in front of you. 

“Unnerved?” 

You ignored him and continued to whisper directions to your group. This room… a hallway…the farthest northern door….another long hallway… take the second door into the courtyard and then the right door. 

“This place has a lot of hallways,” Soonyoung complained. 

“Yeah, well, matches the number of rooms,” you grumbled, something still felt off. You felt as if something was going to jump out from the number of doors there were.

“Where next?” Jihoon asked as everyone came to a stop in the hallway. 

You brought up your gauntlet and projected the map big enough for everyone to see if they wanted to. “These big doors in front of us are blocked so we can’t go through there. We need to go up this hallway and into the next, take a right and take the last door, it’ll lead us into the ballroom.” 

“Got it,” both Jihoon and Seungcheol responded. 

When they started moving again, Jun’s voice crackled to life in your ear. 

“Y/N, we’ve got a problem. How far are you?” 

“Still on the main floor. Two hallways from the ballroom.” 

Jun cursed, “We’ve registered more heat signatures on the floor. Heading your way. Possible Sparks.” 

You froze, your left hand flew to grip Joshua’s bicep, and he stopped to look at you, “Possible Sparks or definite Sparks?” 

Realization settled in the pit of your stomachs. 

“Most likely,” Jun sighed, “One moving ahead of the pack.” 

“One moving ahead of the pack,” you whispered to Joshua. 

“Eight,” he told you, eyes narrowing in worry. “What do we do?” 

You thought for a moment. Your worst fears were coming to life and the thought of your friends in danger… 

“I… I’m going to,” you looked at your gauntlet and then at Jihoon. 

“I’m staying with you,” Joshua whispered quietly, starting to pull you to catch up to the rest.  

“I can’t ask you to do—”

“You’re not. I’m saying I am.” 

“No matter what,” you said quietly, closing your eyes so Joshua would understand you were talking to Jun, “you have to save them.”

“Y/N, what are you—”

“Promise it, Jun.” 

“I…promise? Y/N don’t do anything st—”

“Go cold, Jun. Monitor them both.” Then you turned off your earpiece and looked ahead, they were starting to go into the next hallway. 

These were your friends.

.

.

.

This was your family. 

You wouldn’t regret this choice. 

Pushing ahead, your eyes locked onto Jihoon’s back. Seungcheol walked next to him, murmuring something to him so lowly that only Jihoon would be able to hear him. 

“Jihoon,” you mumbled, a hand reaching out to fall on his shoulder. 

His head whipped around at the sound of your voice, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “I just need to give you something real quick.” 

Everyone paused.

“I need everyone to calm down. Nothing is going on. Here,” you turned back to Jihoon and undid the clasps keeping the gauntlet tied to your arm, took it off, and held it out to him, “you need to put it on. We’ll be quicker if you have the map since you’re at the front.” 

When Jihoon made no motion to reach out for it, you took it upon yourself to grab his arm and put it on for him. 

"This--" you took off the golden earpiece that curved around your ear like multiple thin branches intertwining with each other and attached it to his like Jun had shown you, "goes with it." 

"Ok," Jihoon nodded, "What do I do now?" He glanced down at the armlet, trying to figure it out. 

"Just..." you trailed off, pointing at the small array of buttons on it, "press the first button of the first three rows, the map will project, and then you can pinch it to make it bigger or smaller to turn off. That's all you really need to know for now."

Jihoon nodded, and you turned to look Seungcheol, "Sorry." 

"It's alright."

You smiled nervously at him though he didn't notice, "Okay, let's keep moving then. Straight ahead, we have to go through the ballroom." 

Without more words, the group started to move again, with Seungcheol and Jihoon truly leading them this time.  

You waited where you were, letting everyone walk past you so you could return to the back with Joshua. 

Seokmin. 

Mingyu. 

Chan.

You let your eyes study their faces. 

Soonyoung and Luz. 

Then stopped. 

Your eyes met Soonyoung's and as subtly as you could, you nodded at him before looking away. You hoped he remembered what you had asked of him.

Joshua. 

"It's done," you whispered to him when you reached the ballroom after making sure you were trailing behind the pack by a couple of feet.

Joshua nodded grimly, his eyes set and his lips pressed into a thin line. 

Ahead of you, the group made it through the next door. Joshua and you barely at the center of the room when a hand grabbed you by the shoulder. 

You whirled around, your leg rising to form a high kick only for them to grab and twist your ankle. As you were slammed onto the ground, you held back a scream. 

Joshua turned around as you did, eyes falling on a man with a long face and silver-colored hair. He could only assume it was Eight with the speed that he had.

In an instant, Joshua had his hands in a fist and aimed. But as he slammed you to the ground, he managed to stop Joshua in his tracks and kneed him in the gut. 

You rolled over as you stood and quickly tried to rush him, aiming to knock him off his feet. 

Then failed. 

Eight copied you and rushed you, throwing you to the ground. As the back of your head hit the ground, he managed a kick at your stomach. 

“Where’s the rest of your friends,” he asked you gruffly. 

You spit at him with the energy you could muster, a second before Joshua managed to knock him down. 

They wrestled for a bit, Eight turning Joshua around as they fell. Then, as Eight finally won and punched him in the nose, you regained her strength and returned the favor. 

You punched him. You kicked him. You punched him again. 

Then, as you readied to punch him again, Joshua stood up wobbly to help you.

But as luck would have it, a floorboard creaked as he walked toward you, and he momentarily distracted you. 

In that second, Eight regained his bearings and flipped you just as he had done with Joshua. 

“No!” Joshua screamed in a broken voice.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Jihoon toyed with the gauntlet on his arm as he came to a stop outside the door he believed they needed to go through. His fingers flew across the keys you had told him to. 

Then he yawned and brushed a hand against the earpiece. 

“-/N, come in. Tell me you didn’t! Y/N!” 

“What the fuck?!” Jihoon yelled as Jun’s voice came through. “Who is this?!” 

“…Jihoon?” The voice questioned. 

“Who the fuck are you?! How do you know my name?!” He growled. The rest of the group rushed to his side, looking at him worriedly. 

“What’s going on?” Seungcheol asked, worried. 

“There’s a voice in my ears. I think it’s coming from this thing—” he pointed at the earpiece. 

“Where’s Y/N?!” The voice asked hurriedly. 

“It must be a communicator,” Seungcheol explained to him hurriedly.

Then they heard the scream. “No!”

“What was that?” Chan asked from Mingyu’s shoulders as they all snapped their heads in the direction that the scream had come from. 

“Did… that sound like Joshua?” Seungcheol asked shakily. 

Jihoon looked around quickly, searching for you. His heart started to speed up as he quickly started to understand the panic that had been in the man’s voice. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

They all turned to look at Jihoon, question sinking in before they looked around at each other. Their eyes started to widen as realization sunk in. 

“Y/N!” Jihoon screamed as he ran past them, Seungcheol at his heels. 

Together they threw down the door and froze at the sight before them. One man fought Joshua and another came in through the door. 

Jihoon’s heart dropped. 

You pushed yourself off the wall, head whipping around at their entrance. 

Blood dribbled down your chin as you coughed, a broken ‘no’ brushing past your lips when you saw Jihoon. 

Noticing your distracted state, the second man ran up to you and pinned you against the wall again. 

“No!” Jihoon screamed about to run forward before Seungcheol stopped him. 

“Let me go!” He screamed. “They’re hurting her! Y/N!”

Seungcheol took a shuddering breath, tears running down his face as he saw more men run through the other door. 

“Stop!” Screamed a voice behind them. “We have to go!” 

Seungcheol turned around and behind the rest of the group who he quickly noticed were also crying as they watched, was a man running towards them. 

“I’m one of you! I’m one of you! I’m the King!” 

“What?” He asked breathlessly, as Jihoon struggled in his hold. 

“We have to go!” He screamed. “Follow her!” He said, pointing at a woman at the end of the hallway. 

Seungcheol noticed the gauntlet on the man’s arm and nodded, “Follow them!” 

“Let me go! I’m not losing her again!” Jihoon screamed, struggling in Seungcheol’s hold, tears streaming down his face.

“Hurry!” The King yelled.  

“No!” Jihoon yelled again, drawing the attention of the other men. 

You struggled against the hoard of men after freeing yourself, more bruises littering your face, and a limp in your step. 

“Go!” You yelled in their direction, trying your hardest to keep the men from going towards them. 

“No!” Jihoon yelled. “The beam guns! Use your beam gun!” 

“Your guns won’t work!” The King screamed. “Do you see that circle on the floor?! It’s stopping beams from materializing!”

“Let me go! I’m not loosing her again!” Jihoon screamed, struggling in Seungcheol’s hold, tears streaming down his face.

“There’s nothing we can do for her, Jihoon! It’s too late! We aren’t loosing you too!” 

In that moment, you did the only thing you could think of, you took out your beam gun and chucked it in their direction. 

It landed at Jihoon’s feet. 

“Grab it!” Seungcheol screamed as he struggled to keep Jihoon in his hold and Jun did.

“Let me go!” He yelled again as they started to pull him away. You started to get further away, but his eyes remained perfectly trained on your struggling form. Panic rose inside him with every punch. 

He couldn’t lose you. Not again.

But it was too late. They had dragged you away, and they carried him farther and farther away. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Tears streamed down all their faces. Their chests rose and fell rapidly as reality sunk in— new voices, new faces, and an open-spaced cockpit that looked newer than anything they had ever seen 

“Implement Ghost Protocol,” the man that saved them said.  

“Yes, sir,” the woman beside him said. 

“Make sure they can’t track us.”

“On it.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Seungcheol asked as soon as he was able to form the word. 

The man turned around, “I’m Jun, King of the Dusty. It’s nice to meet you all.” 

“We have to go back,” Jihoon said, tears still streaming down his face, “Tell her to turn us around. We have to go back for Y/N. We have to go back!” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t. Y/N and Joshua have already been taken, and if we go back, we all risk being captured and killed.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” Jihoon yelled. “We have to go back!” 

“Y/N made her instructions very clear. I am not going to ignore her wishes or our deal.” 

“Deal?” Seungcheol cut in quickly before Jihoon could say anything, “What deal? Y/N didn’t say anything about a deal.” 

Jun faltered for once, taking in their wide eyes. It seemed that Y/N had failed to tell them of the deal you had struck. He wondered if it would be okay if he told them. 

“What deal?” Seungcheol asked again, this time clipping each word.

“Y/N struck a deal with me. I would help her, help all of you.”

“I thought you helped your people,” Seungcheol growled, “Not blackmailed them.” 

“I do,” Jun answered, “My people. And I do believe there is one person here that isn’t a Dusty and hasn’t proven to be loyal to our kind.”

‘Luz,’ they all realized. 

“Y/N said that Soonyoung wouldn’t leave without her, and just like me, she wasn’t about to leave one of her own behind. If it hadn’t been for her, there wouldn’t have been a reason for me to even offer her a deal. You would have all been home free.”

At their shocked silence, Jun continued. 

“I met Y/N and Joshua a long time ago, and I told her if she ever needed a favor, she could come find me. But I couldn’t risk my family for a dangerous, wild card.”

“What deal,” Jihoon swallowed, “did she strike?” 

Jun studied him for a moment. Though he had never met them, he knew this would hurt him the most, and he almost didn’t want to say. 

“She agreed to help me— be the Queen of the Dusty, and help me with my own plans.” 

Silence as they took it all in, fresh tears falling down their faces.  

“I did tell her that you could all join my family too or chose to go your separate ways, and she could visit you from time to time. That would have been up to you.” 

“Why would they keep this from us? Why would Y/N lie?” Seokmin asked, covering his eyes.  

“I asked her not to say anything about my existence a long time ago,” Jun said, trying to meeting each and of them in the eye, “she did it out of loyalty.” 

“To you?!” Jihoon yelled, his tears replaced by pure anger as he stepped forward furiously. His intent to attack was clear to everyone as Seungcheol ran forward to hold him back. 

Jun remained unfazed, “Perhaps to me. Perhaps to all of you.” 

Everyone froze.

Jun continued, “Perhaps to the hope that if anything ever happened, she could save all of you through me.” 

“We have to go back,” Jihoon tried again, “please. We have to go back and save her.” 

“We will,” Jun agreed, “We’ll get her back. I don’t leave my people behind. But, not today. It’s too late now.” 

“But—”

“We’ll go to Sparks, and we’ll rescue them both. They aren’t going to kill them. They’re too valuable to Sparks to do that.” 

Seungcheol nodded for them, “Okay.” 

Jun nodded, “HeeJin, contact Chuu and tell her to start trying to find out where they could possibly be kept.”

Tears continued to fall down Jihoon’s eyes. 

Had he really left you behind?

This was his fault. 

This was his fault. 

Jihoon lunged at Soonyoung, range flowing through him again. He aimed a fist at his face, and around him, everyone yelled as they watched it him punch Soonyoung. Seungcheol could do nothing to stop him.

“Jihoon, stop! Stop!” Soonyoung yelled when he was able to dodge him, “Stop! I have something to give you! From Y/N!” 

He froze.

Taking it as his cue to proceed, Soonyoung dug around in his pack and pulled out a simple box tied closed with a piece of cloth.

“What is this?” He asked.

“A gift. Y/N told me that I needed to give it to ‘him’ if something ever happened to her. That I would know who that was if the time came.” 

“Me?” Jihoon asked quietly. 

“You,” Soonyoung nodded, “I’m sorry.” 

Without a word, Jihoon took the box from his hands and opened it as fast as he could, not caring that they were all staring at him. Though in a haste, he carefully slid the bottom half of the box into the top and pulled out its contents. 

A single belt with a holster and bag attachments— brown leather, new. 

Handmade. 

Y/N-made.  

Jihoon ran a finger down the stitches of your work, taking in the amount of work that it would have taken you to make it and stopped when he felt something in one of the pouches. 

He opened it and pulled out a metal heart, smaller than the center of his palm. 

He felt his heart break more than it already had. 

It was just like the one you carried around in your pockets, the one that your father had given you when you were younger. 

Jihoon curled his fingers around your heart, clutching it so hard, his nails started to dig into his palm. 

His tears stopped flowing as he came to a resolution. 

He was going to get you back. 

“We’ll get her back,” Jun said, “I don’t leave my people behind.”

Jihoon would hold him to that.

No matter what. 

Jihoon was going to get you back. 

Whatever it took.

❦❦

Thanks for reading! Comments, Reblogs and Likes are appreciated! 

[themugshotofdoriangray]

what kind of man is this you've taken?

After posting my my gratuitous take on the murder of Sir Danvers in the TGS universe, I wasn't planning on writing another 2k words, but from Emma Carew's perspective. But here I am and here you are, so here it is!

WARNING: Simon Stride, a little bit more blood than we're used to and some manhandling

Cheers!

"It is such a pleasure to see you again, Sir Danvers,” he smiled with teeth straighter than his spine. He did have to bend down to address me with his words, but seek out your permission with his stare after all. “Miss Emma, would you do me the honor?”

Father, please! Please do not insist I dance with him! I could smile through it as I did through every etiquette lesson and I could tire of it as I tired my toes through every dance class. I’ve already done that at the last soiree. And the one before that. And every single one since my debut. He bends before in hopes that I would one day bend before him. You know I cannot deny you, but I can and will deny him.

“Mr. Stride-"

"Please, call me Simon."

"I have already promised my first dance to another.”

"Is that so?” he stood at his full height and searched his surroundings. “And just where is this most fortunate man?”

“Indeed,” you had pulled me closer to you then as if a predator was on the loose. “Who is it, Emma?” 

What was I to answer, father? Should I have pleaded with you to play along? Should I have told you the truth? Oh, now I believe I should have. I should have told you I still had not yet thought up an excuse to turn down Simon Stride. I should have told you I heard this most fortunate man's name being fawned over behind fans before I said it aloud.

"Dr. Henry Jekyll, of course."

"Dr. Jekyll?" he wore off his smile before he discarded it completely.

"Dr. Jekyll," you called out as if to summon him.

And you must have, for he materialized before me the very next moment.

"I'd like you to meet my daughter, Emma. She was most eager to have the first dance with-"

"Father!"

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Emma," he bent down as a gentleman should and as Mr. Stride always would. But it was my permission he was seeking out. "May I have this dance?"

Oh, father, how he blinded me! No black ink on white paper could hope to do him justice! He burned himself behind my eyes like the flash of a bellows camera. You know how I'd always get stars caught into my lashes after having my picture taken. Well, Dr. Henry Jekyll sprinkled a thousand of them over my head. I don't know how I even made it through the first dance without stepping on his toes. I only regained my footing by the third. I was blind, father.

Oh, how blind I was!

"They say he had the wolf eating out of his hands as if it were a lap dog." You were singing praises to his name when Dr. Jekyll returned me to you for the second or third time. The story of the doctor and the moster had been your favorite for the past fortnight.

"Mr. Kaylock is no lap dog, Sir Danvers, I assure you," A tray floated by and he plucked a couple of flutes, one for himself and the other he offered to me. "He is a cryptologist and the newest member of our Society."

"But is he not the wolf you tamed the other night?"

"Yes, he just so happens to be the same werewolf I recruited. But he's every bit a man as you and I. He will learn to tame himself, just as all young men do," his glass was raised as if he had just come to the tail end of a toast.

Then you laughed. Then he laughed. Then every gentleman followed your lead and laughed. And then you raised your glass. And, father, as you clinked it against his, I understood that I wasn't expected to understand. A woman wasn't expected to understand. These were matters of wolves and boys. Of monsters and men.

"Cheers," you downed your drink. "I do require your expert opinion, Doctor. We all do. What are we to make of a werewolf in your Society? In any society, really. Is he man or beast?"

"He's both, sir. As we all are."

"Henry, please-" Dr. Lanyon was stopped as soon as he started.

"Robert, please," he started and there was no one left to stop him. "Dr. Lanyon and I had our disagreements concerning my research on the dual nature of man. Yes, I did say dual, gentlemen. Man is not truly one, but truly two. Jasper Kaylock's struggle is one each of us should be able to sympathize with."

"What is it that you mean, Doctor?" He strode in just as Dr. Lanyon slipped away saying something about another fill of champagne. "Are we all in danger of ravaging our beloved London's streets?"

"Ever feared as if you were, Mr. Stride?" The doctor pulled himself up in a smile and that's when I saw Simon had his slouch and his entire posture going down with it. "The beast inside is not a literal one, I assure you. But we all have unreasonable thoughts and unsavory feelings that we must separate ourselves from."

Now, father, I know I'm not supposed to understand. But you must believe me when I say I did. Yes, even as a woman, I understood. There are ugly things inside of us, you know. Ugly things gentlemen such as yourself and Simon Stride would rather us cover up with rouge and cage inside a corset. But Dr. Henry Jekyll understood.

"And where has your research led you, Dr. Jekyll? Are there any means of separating man from beast? Or are they to forever coexist?"

He looked upon me then as if he were seeing me for the first time. Father, I must admit that I feared I had made a fool of myself. It was but a fleeting moment and as soon that it left us, another arrived. In this one, I was bolder than I knew myself to be. The fear was all his, as if I had made a fool out of him. I saw something flash in his stare. It was my turn to blind him and it was his turn to pose for a photograph he wasn't prepared for. He blinked as soon as something began to develop behind his eyes, but the moment was over before I could make out what it was.

Oh, how blind I was!

"Inconclusive," he said with stars still stuck in his eyes. "The results were inconclusive."

"Not to worry, Emma," you came to my rescue. You feared I was in some form of danger, but I feared the Doctor needed saving. "I'm sure that all these men, beasts and beastly men are being taken care of."

"Indeed, sir" Simon said as he was suppose to. He followed your lead. "Dr. Jekyll's work doesn't concern any one of us present. Itis all about those criminals and degenerates over in East End. Isn't that so, Doctor?"

He continued to stare off somewhere between yourself and Simon. I don't believe he dared to look down where I was for I was staring back at him.

"Dr. Jekyll?"

Dr. Jekyll didn't answer.

"Dr. Jekyll?"

And when he did answer, it was with all the awerness of a child being chided for sleeping in. "Forgive me gentlemen. Where were we?"

"We were right here, Doctor. Where were you?"

"I, w-well, you see-"

Where he had all the answers before, he had none. They weren't unreasonable questions such as mine, father. You had asked a perfectly reasonable question. Still, he choked on his answer. Not even Dr. Lanyon could get him to spit those words out.

"Henry, are you all right?"

No. No, I don't believe men who sweep you off your feet with a gentle one moment and crush glassware with the very same hand the next are all right.

"Henry!"

"E-excuse me, gentlemen. Miss Emma."

Dr. Henry Jekyll had left you stunned for the second time this evening. First, he spoke of "unscientific balderdash", as Dr. Lanyon had put it. Then, he fled from you like a man on the run, bumbling and bleeding.

"I'll see to his injury," his colleague composed himself for as long enough as it took to ask for a piece of cloth. After I handed him my handkerchief, he followed in his bloody trail. "Thank you, miss. And forgive me, sirs."

Father, I know I looked towards you with every shade of embarrassment coloring my cheeks. I know you cursed the hour he had my hand in his, every step and every twirl. I know you had to leave me in Mr. Stride's care as you hurried after them, but this is wasn't your fault. Oh, father, it's not your fault! I had to let you know, but he wouldn't let me!

"Where are you off to?"

"To check on Dr. Jekyll-"

"He'll live," you snatched my hand, the very same one you've been denied all night.

"Mr. Stride, please-"

"Simon," his grip grew tighter. "I told you to call me Simon, Emma."

"You asked me to call you Simon, Mr. Stride," I pulled my hand from the prison of his fingers. "And I already denied that request."

I can't be sure if he finally let me go, or I had simply escaped him, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Dr. Jekyll was safe. That you were safe, father.

The lobby was quiet but for the faint echoes of the festivities behind me and empty but for the single silhouette that emerged from behind the pillar in front of me.

He was no taller than I and appeared even smaller as he was cowering before the light. He looked as if he were ready to slither back into darkness, but then he saw me. I was about to fall back myself, but he caught me in place with his eyes. They flashed and I was looking down the berrel of a camera again. There was something there, something like recognition, something in his stare that I've never seen in a stranger before. And when he stood at his full height, he appeared younger than the look he offered, which was as weary as a man's who was witness to several decades more.

"Miss Emma," he spoke as if he knew me and when he did crouch back down it was in a bow over his walking stick that, I couldn't help but notice, had been splattered with red as of recent. "It would be an honor to escort you back, but I happen to be engaged with other matters at the moment," he smiled as if I knew him.

Oh, father, how blind I was! Blood! Of course it was blood! The red on his white shirt was blood! All over the floor! Blood!

"Emma?"

For the first time in forever, the sound of Simon Stride was a welcome one. Father, how I would have welcomed him then! Any gentleman would have been welcome! Anyone but that man and his perverted sense of politeness!

"Simon-" I lost my voice as soon as I found it. He muffled my cry with his hand - his bleeding, bandaged hand - and finally fell back into the shadows he spawned from. Only he had to take me with him this time.

"I don't know about you, but I've had enough of that sycophant's shit-eating smile for one night," he held me against me, my back to his chest, and while there was spite on his tongue, there was fear in his heart. It slammed against my spine. "I'd much appreciate it if you didn't alert him to our presence."

"Emma, are you there?"

I couldn't answer him. How could I? He had his hand over my mouth and I couldn't flee either for his other hand was on my hip where his arm wrapped around my waist. I had the hardest time breathing, and screaming was even harder. All I could inhale were the smell of blood that I hoped was his own on his fingers and the scent of roses on the cloth wrapped around them that I prayed wasn't my own.

"Emma, answer me!"

I couldn't answer him, but I could make him aware of my presence with somebody elses voice. For the first time since my last dance lesson, I stepped on a gentleman's foot. I stepped on his foot as unladylike as I could. I must have awakened that beast inside all men as I did so because he snarled. And when Mr. Stride's shadow threatened to cast itself around the corner, he freed me. He threw me into Simon's arms and fled while he was at it, so my freedom was shortlived.

"Emma," he caught me against his chest. "Emma, don't look," he hid my head into his elbow, but it was too late. I've already spotted you and the cane that caved your face in.

Oh, how blind I had been! Could you ever forgive me, father?

[gvaf-radio-blog]

I was laying in bed trying to not think about the rejection when the crying fit started, normally it goes away after a bit but this welled up and I felt an emotion like onto a rage induced tornado surging through me and I pounded the floor screaming like I lost a limb to a bear trap and started to pray to God, keep in mind I am a Satanist, to either help me find a way to get the love of my life back or to give me the means to end my life.  Satan was very understanding but reminded me to call them first next time since Satan never told me I was damned for being born pansexual and they did turn me on to better fashion and literature, sorry Satan.

It had been going on like this for the better part of July and there were several things going on in my life at the time one of those was a firm belief that I had grown too old, too fat, too broken to be any use to anyone other than to make others feel better and be target practice for the Russian Cupidi who seems very intent on making others fall in love with me on the other side of the continent, little fuckers have surprisingly deep laughs I found out . There was a person I was convinced was the love of my life because they seemed to understand me, never made unreasonable demands of me ( I thought)  and to put it simply we could not be in a room alone ever. We worked well together in fact each time we would meet it ended in us kissing and tearfully saying I love you to each other  while holding each other head to head crying. Everytime I heard a slight Russian tinged laugh. We were for a short time had an almost family, an almost family is where things are just off and need adjustments. I wanted tp make us a full family badly I wanted this family to happen because these kids were at one time treated like mine own, I am a  simple and boring man except for the Cupidi and a stalker with cat ears who keeps leaving dead birds on my front stoop.  

So yes I was that fool everyone has laughed at in a heart break fueled misery that pop songs and movies lie to us and say “ AH but tis only the third act! The two distant lovers will be reunited and the love song with start after the credits”. I want to start rounding up the con artist that make a living by filling empty headed children with these notions of true love or that love conquers all and sodomize them with live lobsters.  I don’t want to violate ethically challenged people with shellfish everyday, just on those days when I have to deal with the doll eyed masses, ok so basically every day I was trying to give myself the benefit of the doubt.  The Ex had asked me if the reason I wanted to get back together was because they were a “sure thing” I told her that they were really a long shot but if I didn’t try then I couldn’t live with myself. Fast forward a few weeks and several insulting explanations later and I am now turning over all the reasons I am broken goods and that I should not rise above my station because I deserve to be alone, i’m scum, I’m why baby jesus cries and milk spoils when I walk into the room. I started taking pot shots at the local Cupidi with my compound bow but it was hard to aim with eyes full of tears and the edible kicking in finally. I don’t know how to say fuck you in Russian but I think I know the sound of the word. 

Next we find me red eyed muttering some gibberish that’s been fueled by what I would find out later to be a suspected mental illness that is only half way being treated with medication and therapy. To give you a funny and disturbing visual. After not eating or sleeping for several days  I looked like what could be described as a  cross between a fat Reinfeld and a goth George Costanza , or Meatloaf on a bad day. I give you options for your visuals, am I not merciful?

It’s now sometime between one and five A.M and I am looking up the price of the least expensive .45 handgun because I’m poor and I’ll be getting some extra money soon because I turn thirty nine in a week I do not want to be thirty nine so I start looking for american style solutions, happy fucking birthday. I chose this caliber because having some medical training and studying the wonderful world of trauma  I got to see in full detail what a self inflicted head wound looks like and what a person's life is when the bullet doesn’t take enough grey matter. I didn’t want to be alive then I sure as hell didn’t want to live as a joke character from a Garth Ennis story so I was going to get a bigger bullet .  America, fuck yeah.

so I started to make my final birthday plan and feel at peace with having my last ride of Clove’s, bourbon and a good pub hamburger then, Tchüess. BANG! Obviously I didn’t buy the gun to end my misery and embarrassment as my brain was telling me I needed, because instead my brain going into OH FUCK mode was throwing everything it had at me to save the ship. Then it hit pay dirt. I rediscovered a natural emotional energy that put my mind into a laser focus clearing the fog and lies away  just enough to stop my self destruction and restart the rebuilding I began in the winter. The emotional energy that saved me from turning my head into goo goes by the name of pure fucking spite.

I realized that my idiocy levels had reached a critical mass when the Cupidi in hazmat suits who seem to be , in Russian , bitching about extracting me to go get recharged . They came down to take me back to a containment unit that will refill my cynicism back to optimal and lethal fuck off capacity. After my IV of coffee and Monster™ grape was removed I was set loose again into the wilds of Southeast Portland to reconnect my brain with seething hatred that I somehow misplaced my hatred during the heartache attack between Southeast Division and Southeast Clinton street where I  was bludgeoned with a baseball bat by the woman who was wearing cat ears. I was on a time limit because I had to do this quickly and retract my steps before my appointment with a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner at two P.M later that day. I managed to find my hatred , my senses and a new found desire to attack any human with those fucking anime cat ears on their head and entered the office and was treated like a human being not a Cro Magnon sociopath who might try  to kill people on the train, it was a nice change of pace honestly.

We talked about my past trauma and some of the diagnosis that where off base and some that came close to the mark but the main thing we talked about was the depression, the depression that had me looking for a gun as a treatment plan. This Nurse Practitioner pinpointed everything that I had to hide from others or train myself not to do in less than thirty minutes, Let me give you a bit of perspective. 

Most of the mental health professionals I worked with in the past used a method I call flow chart counseling, example:

Therapist sees me walk into the door, therapist will ask if I drink if yes how many drinks in a week, if no move on to the next question. Therapist: Mister Cromag do you drink?

Me: yeah, I like a good beer, or wine I take a shinning to good bourbons as well.

“Therapist now flows to follow up questions”

Therapist: How many drinks per week?

Me: Well, I like to have a drink that pairs with my dinner and some weekends I’ll have a bit more during games or socialization depending on who’s around.

“Therapist now moves down to alcoholism”

Therapist: how long have you been an alcoholic?

Me: I’m sorry what?

Therapist: You binge drink Mister Cromag, more than four drinks per week means substance abuse.

Me: No it means I like the taste of a stout. “Moves down the chart to denial”

Therapist: We need to find you an addiction specialist.

Me: You think my drinking is bad, wait until I tell you about my porn collection.

After that exchange I was referred to a physical therapist to help with carpal tunnel and after a traumatized therapist had to call security all while frantically  trying to find a flowchart for the psychotically horny they made a suggestion about me having an Oedipus complex.

So you now see what I mean, a lot of professionals never got to the heart of it and there are other stories where I’ve had the professionals all but sneer at me when my symptoms are presented. So this Nurse Practitioner was a nice change of pace and with the discussion about my issues, what I thought I might have been dealing with  (sometimes people see that I do have some form of intelligence and not just hit thing with club real hard unga bunga) we then worked out what medication I needed to treat  the thing I was dreading, being diagnosed with  Bipolar 1.

Bipolar and ADHD share many of the same characteristics and as I’ve learned if you have one the other is more than likely there it just needs to be screened for. Bipolar is also a hereditary form of mental illness which makes it a bit unique where others are mostly trauma induced but Bipolar just kinda waits for something to happen and when nothing does it creates its own fun. To add to this good time Bipolar  is classified as a “mood disorder”  your highs are hyperactive boarderlining and often going into a full true manic state of mind and body, not nearly as fun as it sounds. Then the lows are soul crushing affairs that amplify the depression and then takes the lies you brain tells you and creates a story based on people around you, your fears, past trauma and then makes you this poisoned lullaby cake that tastes like candy feels like medicine until you fall to your knees paralyzed and the fangs sink into your back and you see too late what is having you for dinner tonight.

So that’s a quick and blurry on Bipolar 2, I have Bipolar 1 which means I get all of that plus the added fun of hallucinations, and not the type Terrence Mckenna taught us about. These are things that just manifest as if they are real life like if you were in a  film and it was edited without  warning and in this new situation  you now have to improvise a reality, any  reality, this is why I take *drugs prescribed and other. The other issue is that it feels like my memories get remixed and things that happened now have a new twist, a paranoid hurtful twist.  Good example of this is when I was making a terminal wishlist and believed that there were people who truly wanted me to die because I interpreted their actions as malicious. Another example is I was walking home to the apartments  around ten or twelve years ago, I was walking home at the time with groceries and when I got through the front door there was construction going on at the apartment above me. I sleep days and at best i’ll get four hours due to shit employer, new born child, a girlfriend that was Sybil the next generation who completely refused to get treatment because she was a psych major and thought she was the heroin to overcome all odds  in a lifetime movie.  So on top of this my mental illness is not in check, no insurance and if I mention medication at work I could get fired. 

 I wish this was a part I made up  but I mentioned I was on antidepressants at one time and they removed me from two positions back to entry level until I got clean off celexa, Not allowed to do the fun drugs and then punished for using the boring ones no idea why I stayed there for eight and a half years. 

Back to the construction, I get home try to put my groceries away and one of the workers says he needs to do something in the bedroom I tell him to get bent , he calls me a fat fuck and I proceed to beat him bloody! Except it never happened, I woke up beating my fist bloody onto the tiled floor of the kitchen where I had started to put away my groceries until I jumped into this other reality, I’m just happy the kid wasn’t home because it might have scared her and made her cry and knowing I made her cry hurts the worst, I would have attempted that second suicide earlier. This freaked me out I’ve never had an hallucination like this I was scared, when I told then girlfriend hoping to get support or at least pointed in the direction on where to look she labeled me a schitzophrentic started talking to me as if I was going to flip out  and that I was even more dangerous.  I let that turn around in my head for years thinking that this was the linchpin to me being broken and with the way she talked to me I believed I didn’t deserve help. This was one of the main reasons I had to kill myself after she took my daughter away.

Like a few million other miserable , confused people out there I didn’t know a blessed thing about what was happening, I remembered the mental abuse and emotional abuse from the church, and some had argued physical and neglectful abuse I recieved at the hands of my family or my mother’s husbands who told my mother to no provide for me but instead buy him a new toy car. My step sister who somehow hates the knot headed reprobate more than I do stole his precious camaro and rear ended a Semi. After learning she was ok I fell on the floor laughing because all I could think about was this NASCAR addicted stunted man child calling his mommy to whine about a broken toy, to add to this mental image he was wearing a blue jean diaper and clutching a plush Richard Petty teddy bear.

There’s more but I don’t feel the need to talk about school bus drivers and me losing memory of one full  year of my life, bullying at the hands of adults and children alike. I feel like that would be redundant and unfortunately all too common a story I’ve heard from so many people in my life, friends, lovers , coworkers the fucking homeless people who talk with me after I give them beer money. Leaving some of the genetic issues aside you bastards need to understand how wide spread some of these traumas are for fuck sake my motley of misfits are all walking trauma case studies and instead of getting help YOU people ridiculed them, or gave them the greatest useless sentence in the english language which is :

 “Just get over it.”

Do you know what I would like to see? I want to see all of us survivors roaming the streets like that piss poor movie they claimed was a horror movie the Purge and with a list not unlike the list owned by the man that comes around Johnny Cash sang about during his song of the rapture, and I see men, women, and nonbinary people going to the address of those passive aggressive twits and beating them within an inch of their life, then carving into their chest (backwards) “get over it” then we move on to the homes of the rapists and tell them “you asked for this” before destroying their cocks with battery acid. The screams in the night would be glorious with the bats acting like percussion and the screams keyboard swells it would be like Front 242 unplugged. Maybe then the sniveling pretentious nra members out there will learn a bit. At best, it would be fair warning not to be passive aggressive asshole and learn a bit of compassion and mindfulness or to just get their heads out of their ass about battles they know nothing about if they want to avoid severe head trauma that one can not just simply get over. 

Living with mental illness is not easy at any level whether a small bit of depression after a breakup or full blown PTSD after a brutal rape that leaves one unable to leave their house. Whomever has these afflictions are the ones suffering and your feelings of inconvenience or fear  of those sufferers need to be thrown into the Willamette river, I would say you need to follow suit  but there’s enough garbage in this river you can fuck off into a trash compactor.

Living is the hardest thing I do but I keep finding ways to stop the thoughts from taking over and I will and have done whatever it took to not die and sometimes the only way I was able to beat the mental illness was being bat shit insane. Some people think I’m a drug addict, others just think I need to talk to my old invisible friend, a few well meaning souls have suggested psychedelics and these people are pure and I will castrate any who try and stop them from their holy work from the almighty Bob. what I do need is to find that bitch with the **baseball bat and introduce them to a proper bonfire that I’m going to roast one of those little commie Cupidi on, oh yes I want my revenge for St Louis. 

*the drugs in question are cannabis for the most part, when I’m spinning hard it helps tune me down and when the depression hits it shuts up the thoughts that plague me. Not a cure all nor is it a replacement for proper medication and therapy. I like to think of it a supplemental medicine that has the added effect of making Tool sound even more epic and letting me sleep peacefully. 

** all wildy violent, funny and or cartoonish descriptions written about are there to be funny and entertaining no Cupidi do not exist and the Cat ear person does but the assault was less bloody and didn’t involve a bat  but it was far more traumatizing.

[love-god-forever]

An Arrogant and Dominating Wife’s Transformation

By Chen Jing, Italy

I wore the pants in family, so I couldn’t get on well with my husband.

When I was young, I was spoiled by my parents and my brothers and sisters also indulged me very much. I neither did any hard work in my family nor suffered any injustice. Growing up in such an environment, I became insolent, willful, and self-righteous. I was self-centered in doing everything and refused to accept others’ different ideas. It was as if my whole body were covered in thorns that no one could blame or touch me.

My husband was gentle. After marriage, he indulged me very much and I wore the trousers in our family. So, my words were just like imperial edicts. As long as I dictated something to him, he must do as I told him and didn’t dare to argue with me; if he dared to have another idea, I would keep arguing with him until he made a compromise.

In 2007, when we wanted to build our house, I thought it would be beautiful if we built two rooms plus a pergola on the third floor, but my husband considered the pergola not functional, and said it would be better to build another room. Hearing he had a different opinion, I got mad, so at that moment, no matter what he said, I stuck to my own thoughts and didn’t accept his opinion at all and complained about his lack of appreciation. When he told his thought to the builder, I got angry very much and kept a stiff face, being full of complaints in my heart. But for the sake of saving my face, I didn’t get mad immediately. I forced myself to hold back my temper and left these words: “Well, build this house as you like. From now on I will back off from all the things about our family.” And then I walked away. On seeing me getting angry, he gently tried to talk it over with me. Not a little could I listen to him, I said angrily: “Who exactly has the final say in our family, you or me?” He explained it to me, but I interrupted him at once and dressed him down. Seeing I insisted on my own opinion all the time, he finally made a compromise with me helplessly. Only then did I feel a little comfortable.

My husband liked playing cards, but he dared not play without my permission. One time I heard he was playing cards in our neighbor’s house, I thought to myself: “You dare to play behind my back! You really ignore me. Today I’ll teach you a lesson.” On my arrival at our neighbor’s, I shouted at him: “Stop playing and go home with me, now!” After that, I went home to pack my clothes up and wanted to divorce him. After a little while, he returned home. He saw I was about to leave home and so apologized to me immediately. I coldly said, “Let’s get divorced! I can’t live such a life. You go to marry a woman who likes gambling like you!” Aware of the unfavorable situation, he pressed his suit and swore that he would not play any longer, so I forgave him at last. From then on, he rarely went to play cards.

Because I was often disgruntled with my husband about trifles and threatened him with divorce frequently, before he spoke or acted, he had to watch my expressions and often sighed. Sometimes after I got mad at him, he was very helpless. In order to keep our family in harmony, he could only swallow his anger. Sometimes he kept smoking with his head down; sometimes he felt so hurt and resentful that he lost his temper at our child. Seeing this, I also felt uncomfortable in my heart. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to get mad, nor did I want to make him embarrassed. Every time after I argued with him and gained the upper hand, I wasn’t happy at all; on the contrary, I felt that I owed my husband too much and my heart was condemned, but I was unable to control my mood.

Led by God’s word, I had achieved initial changes.

Afterward, I was fortunate that I accepted the kingdom gospel of God. One time I read a paragraph of God’s words: “Did you ever realize what you are doing today— … considering yourselves as always right and better than others, being arrogant, and acting savagely like wild animals in mountains and rough like the king of the beasts—is this the likeness of a human being? You are rude and unreasonable.” After reading God’s words, I felt distressed in my heart. My behaviors were exactly the same as the revelations of God’s words. When I was a child, I was self-centered at home and asked my family to revolve round me. Once their doings weren’t agreeable to me, I would get mad. After marriage, I asked my husband to obey me in all things and to do as I told him. If he did it obediently, I would be happy and pleased; once he was disobedient to me or put forward different opinions, I would quarrel with him endlessly until he gave in. I thought carefully: He worked hard every day to provide for our family; however, not only did I not care for him, I also always lost my temper with him because his words and deeds were not after my heart. I always wouldn’t let it go until he made a compromise, and even turned my fury on him. I vented my emotions and revealed my naturalness in a willful way, so he felt especially restrained. He spoke or acted in front of me very carefully for fear that I was annoyed. He wasn’t as happy as before and sometimes he even would grumble a little. Because of my conduct, my husband and I couldn’t get on well with each other and our life wasn’t happy or blessed at all. Alas, everything was caused by my arrogant disposition. Did my living out have any likeness of a Christian?

God requires us neither to care for our own feelings nor to impose our ideas on others in our interactions of others. We should consider and tolerate others more. And then, I prayed to God and asked Him to lead me and give me the faith and courage to practice the truth. After that, when my husband’s speaking or acting wasn’t in line with my will, I prayed to God for guiding me to calm down and not to do things according to my flesh; after I cooled down, I talked things over with him. In daily life, I consciously cared for him. Before he returned home in the evening, I cooked meals and waited for him to eat together, showing great care for him and caring about his living. In addition, I would actively do more housework, lest he worry about it. Gradually, there were fewer quarrels between us and our relationship became a little more harmonious.

We were at odds again, and I learned the root of the problem.

One day, when my husband came back from his elder sister’s, he said to me: “Our brother-in-law wants to borrow some money from us.” Hearing that, I quickly asked him: “You’ve promised to lend them money, haven’t you?” He explained, “Yes, I have. But I didn’t say how much money we’ll lend them. I want to talk it over with you now.” On hearing his words, I flew into a fury, “You act first and report afterward. You’ve promised them already. Is there any need to talk with me? I can only agree. All right, you decide everything of our family from now on, and I won’t take care of anything.” On seeing me get angry again, he said, “Last time you said you would change yourself from then on, but I think you can still easily lose your temper as before and you haven’t achieved any change at all. Our sister and brother-in-law are always good to us. They often help us. Now they encounter difficulties and want to borrow some money from us, if I don’t agree to it, I will go against my conscience. Why are you always self-willed like a child? Don’t make a scene, will you?” Hearing his words, I realized my action wasn’t in line with God’s intentions, nor could I bear witness to God. But on thinking that my husband had decided for himself instead of talking it over with me in advance, I felt very uncomfortable in my heart. I worried that later he would do things according to his will without restriction, and then I wouldn’t have the final say. I really wasn’t reconciled to bowing my head to him. But I felt I wasn’t in line with God’s will if I got angry with him. I had conflict in my heart. In pain, I came before God to pray to Him for leading me to understand the truth and know His will.

Later on, I read another passage of God’s words: “Cruel, brutal mankind! The conniving and intrigue, the jostling with each other, the scramble for reputation and fortune, the mutual slaughter—when will it ever end? God has spoken hundreds of thousands of words, yet no one has come to their senses. … How many do not act for the sake of their own interests? How many do not oppress and discriminate against others for the sake of maintaining their own status?” And then I read these words in Sermons and Fellowship on Entry Into Life: “They still stick to their old self, and want to establish their image and be the boss. They consider themselves to be the most honorable in their heart and let others submit to them. Isn’t this kind of people the most arrogant? Their dispositions of Satan are too severe. What is the core and essence of satanic dispositions and nature? That is arrogance, self-rightness, self-importance and self-righteousness.”

Through God’s words, I learned that I couldn’t get on well with my husband because I lived by the satanic laws of survival of “I am my own Lord throughout heaven and earth.” I always wanted to control others, govern them and let them obey me. In my real life, I always used the word “I” first when I spoke, and I placed my own will first. I asked my husband to do things according to my will and didn’t give him any right to explain his ideas. Either on the big thing of building a pergola, or on the small thing of playing cards, I controlled him and forced him to listen to me. If he didn’t, I would argue with him and wanted to get divorced. Wasn’t what I expressed the revelation of my arrogant nature? I governed and controlled him in all things. I really brought him trouble and hurt, and even I myself felt tortured and in pain because I often got mad. At this rate, how could my husband and I get on well with each other? How could our life be happy? Wasn’t this all because of the harm of Satan’s corrupt nature and satanic toxins? I had been too deeply corrupted by Satan. At this moment, I despised my conduct from my heart and hated Satan even more. I wanted to resolve my arrogant disposition and act according to God’s word.

I found the way and saw light again.

Following that, I read a passage of Sermons and Fellowship on Entry Into Life: “In your home life, if people used to be in charge of your family, then you must remove them from their position. You must dispel all idols, make God’s words the master of your home, and allow Christ to rule. … And so, who really wields power in your home life? Is it you, your husband (or wife), or is it your children, or parents? Do you dare to write the words ‘Christ Is the Lord of My Home’ in your house? Do you dare to say to your husband (or wife), children, and parents, ‘Our family worships God. God’s words have begun to wield power, and from now onward, regardless of what problems we have, we shall solve them through prayer, and eating and drinking the words of God’? If you do it, and bring a complete end to a life of being ruled and reigned by the flesh….”

God requires us to do things according to His word and the truth in real life. Whoever speaks in accordance with the truth is who we should obey. We should let God’s word be the master and decision-maker and let the truth rule in our family. Because we are not truth and don’t have truth, how could we be qualified to force others to listen to ourselves? I always controlled my husband and forced him to listen to me. Didn’t I stand in God’s position? This offended God’s disposition. I had done things in this way for such a long time and thought I could protect my absolute authority in my family. I was truly offending and displeasing God. The consequence was so severe. From now on, I couldn’t consider myself to be the most honorable and be the master of all things in my family anymore. I must remove myself from the position. I need to let God and His word be in charge of my family. If my husband says something conforming to God’s word and the truth, I will listen to him. Only by doing things this way can I conform to God’s intentions. This is what a Christian should do.

At the time, I thought that regarding the matter of lending our elder sister money, my husband’s words were reasonable. Our elder sister helped us and was kind to our family. Even if she hadn’t helped us before, now she had difficulties, as her younger brother and sister-in-law, we also should do her a favor. It was appropriate that my husband promised to lend them some money. I shouldn’t stop him from doing that or even more find fault with him unreasonably just because he didn’t talk it over with me beforehand. Realizing that, I completely forgot my anger and began to talk it over with him calmly. Finally, we decided to lend 3000 yuan to our elder sister first.

With the word of god leading the way, I felt released in my heart.

At the noon of the Dragon Boat Festival in 2012, while I was cooking the meal, my husband went out. Before long he came back on a new motorbike and said to me: “This is the new motorbike I bought. What do you think of it?” When I saw the new motorbike, my heart felt stirred: “You are too hasty. Why did you buy it without talking it over with me? Did you think anything of me?” But then I thought that I shouldn’t suppress him in all things or impose my desires on him as before. He had his own thought and he could make the decision of what to buy according to his own requirements. I shouldn’t find fault with him unreasonably just in order to compete with him for superiority again. After thinking like this, I felt much more peaceful and released in my heart. I didn’t blame him, and changed the subject: “Why do you stand here? Wash your hands and get ready for lunch.”

Having found I was in tacit agreement with this matter, during the lunch, he smiled to me and said: “On my way home just now, I was thinking that you would surely get angry with me and brush me off for many days after you saw me riding the motorbike back. But, to my surprise, you didn’t get mad. It seems the God you believe in can really change people. Believing in God is so good! You are quite a different person. You are so good now.” Hearing his words, I knew this was a testament to the work of God. I kept thanking God for Him changing me.

After that, my husband also accepted the work of God in the last days and fulfilled his duty. We both began to lay great emphasis on pursuing the truth and enjoying God’s word every day. Our relationship was more and more harmonious and I had the feeling of sureness and joy in my heart. Afterward, regardless of whether big or small things of our family, I will actively talk them over with my husband, and we solve the difficulties and problems that we encounter according to God’s word and the truth in our life. We love and respect each other. No matter who speaks in line with the truth, we will obey the other, so the matters we face will be soon dealt with properly. Under the leading of God’s word, I have finally acted a little like a human and truly experienced it is God who saved and changed me. I offer my sincerest thanks and praise to God. To God be the glory!

[scoundrelishgirl]

Earth-Talker

Tara buckled on the thermosuit, feeling her way between the clips. The Bauson had explained to her on the surface how to put it on, but now that she was down near the cave entrance, her fingers had become clumsy versions of themselves, the buckles slipping out of her grasp like wet soap. She snorted in frustration as she tried, for the third time, to catch the loop of fastenings near her wrist. “Here, let me.” Namia’s voice cut across her frustration. Tara let out a long, pent-up breath and focused on where the Force told her Namia’s face was. Namia and Master Samukay had accompanied them to Kankara to act as point guards while she and Master Dor collected data. It had been while they were planet-bound that the opportunity had arisen to record the dying words of the Ayezi, the matriarch of the Multvurf, a secretive subterranean species on the frozen planet. Tara had gladly accepted the mission, but Namia had insisted on accompanying her to the lower levels where she would don the life-saving thermosuit. When Tara had tried to refuse, Namia had pointed out that Davin’s hoverchair would not be able to negotiate the stairs to the lower levels, and that there should be another Jedi to keep watch. She hadn’t listened when Tara pointed out that Davin was perfectly capable of wearing the set of exos that the Healers kept suggesting. Namia had found a reason why that wouldn’t work either. She’d even gone so far as to sit in the briefings about the Multvurf society. Tara had appealed to Davin for help, but her Master had teased her about having two Masters and simply told her that it was adorable . Tara did not find it adorable. It was irritating. Irritating that despite how far she’d come, Namia still insisted on treating her like something to be coddled and kept safe. Sometimes Tara felt her girlfriend was suffocating her with the desire to keep her as close as she could as if that would somehow undo what had been done to her. “I’m fine,” she said grimly, as Namia’s fingers caught her arm and pulled it gently towards her. Tara gritted her teeth. “Don’t be silly,” Namia said softly, “I’ve got it. It’s a bit hard for you to get.” Tara’s fingers curled into a fist. It didn’t seem to matter that it had been two years since she’d come home. It didn’t matter what she’d achieved in those two years. Didn’t matter that she could now use the Force to navigate, which often meant that she didn’t need the help her friends so readily and eagerly offered. Tara couldn’t help but feel that what had happened to her had changed the dynamic of their relationship to something she didn’t like. Somehow Namia was trying to be her Master, her parent, and her lover all at the same time. This mission had kicked the protective side of Namia into overgear. “The catch on your shoulder isn’t done as well as it could be, I could get that too.” The words raked themselves down Tara’s spine and left a bitter taste in her mouth. Tara snatched her hand away, taking a step back. The words spilt from her mouth before she could stop them. “I’m not a child, Namia. I’m not a newly shorn padawan, either. Nor a doll for you to fix and care for. I’m me. I’m blind but I’m not useless.” She could still feel where Namia’s fingers had been, so firm on her arm. The cold wind that emanated from the cave whispered along the spots where Namia’s fingers had touched. It burnt and Tara bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from apologising. Instead, she clenched her jaw. “This is my mission. When I get down to the Multvurf I’m going to have to manage the suit by myself. I have to know how to do it.” She took a breath, trying to find her centre, but instead hit a wall of anxiety and anger. “I didn’t realise,” Namia said quietly, “I’m sorry, Tara, I-” “Never realise. Never think about how I feel when you mother me.” The words kept falling; the vehemence of her own voice startling her. She was less controlled than she would like. All the fear and worry about stepping into the unknown, the feeling of not being able to be herself around her friend, the overwhelming feeling that she was going to fail. That she would somehow stuff up and that would be the end of her ― down in the neverending cold. “I didn’t realise you felt-” Namia started again. Tara felt her friend take a step towards her. “Suffocated. I feel suffocated,” she spat back. She knew she was being unreasonable, but the feel of the thermosuit against her skin and the dangers ahead had clouded any ability to think rationally. “You make me feel suffocated,” Tara hissed angrily, not caring how much the words hurt. She couldn’t see Namia’s facial expressions, but she could feel the spiral of confused anguish across their bond. “I don’t understand. I thought we were-” “Lovers? Friends? It won’t matter soon enough. You’ll go off and become a knight. Like everything else you ever do, you’ll sail through it without issue.” Tara bent down and hastily jammed her archivist gear into her bag. “While I’ll be stuck as a padawan, still needing people to look out for me, because I’m somehow less than a Jedi.” There. That phrase. The one that played in her head in the early hours of the morning. Less than a Jedi. “No one sees you like that,” Namia tried. Tara could hear the whispers of the Force surround her as her friend took another step towards her. She threw up her shields to blanket the sound. “Everyone sees me like that. Less than a Jedi. The blind padawan. The one who needs her friends to watch out and over her. When you’re off talking to politicians in the Senate, I’ll still be here ― an archivist. A simple story-keeper. Staying in the shadows where I belong.” The suit itched as it sat hot against her skin. The stupid thing summarised her entire life ― covered, protected, suffocated to make sure she survived. “Tara, that’s not fair. I won’t forget about you.” Namia’s unwillingness to match her anger, to rise to the bait, somehow made her more insufferable. Tara slid her arms through the straps of the backpack and picked up her helmet. She shot what she hoped was her most withering glance in Namia’s direction. “I kind of hope you do.” She shoved her helmet over her head and swung the catch so that it snicked closed. Inside the suit felt hot and she could hear her own breathing over the insistent murmurings of the Force. She turned and made her way towards the entrance of the tunnels, telling herself not to look back, even as her bond with Namia screamed with pain. * Tara followed the narrow winding corridors. It was calmer down here. The Force, which merely whispered on the outside world, now hummed its own melody. The Multvurf rarely came to the surface, preferring the almost pitch-black corridors that ran, warren-like, under the permafrost surface of Kankara. The Bauson, or surface-dwellers as the Multvurf called them, said it was because the Multvurf had been banished to the freezing depths long ago for some terrible crime. The two species shared, at least according to the archives, some common ancestor, but their relationship was now strained. It had, apparently, been at the insistence of their wise women, their Ayezi, that one had braved the surface at all to request the presence of the ‘ones that listen to the earth’. The Bauson had warned them that the tunnels were pitch-black and that the Multvurf did not allow light, as it offended the Holy Dark. The Bauson had said that in the depths the darkness was so dense that it would suffocate the unwary. They had not wanted them to go, but Tara had insisted ― an archivist’s job was to collect all the stories of the universe, no matter how dangerous. She could still remember the argument that had flared at her initial declaration. Namia had insisted that it was too dangerous for Tara and she would do it, Master Samukay had wondered whether she was physically able to take the strain of the apparent freezing conditions, and Tara had stood her ground trading barbs and counterpoints with equal ferocity. Eventually it had been Master Dor who’d settled the matter when he’d pointed out that the darkness would pose no problem to someone who couldn’t see. Now she strode cautiously down the slopes. She could no longer hear the wind that rattled Kankara’s surface, and the thermosuit had become uncomfortably warm. She could feel the prickle of sweat across her back. The Force sang to her, showing her the uneven floor, a dip in the ceiling, a fork in the road. It trilled that there was a life-form ahead and Tara slowed. “You the earth-speaker?” The voice was strong and bright and at odds with the ever-present sensation of being swallowed by the soil. “I am,” Tara said quietly. “You do not need your armour, earth-speaker,” the voice said. “We do not live on the surface where the wind howls. Mother Earth keeps us warm.” Tara paused, listening to the babble of the Force around her. There was no hiss of treachery, just a quiet susurrus that gathered together and threaded itself into a song full of trust and patient curiousity. She shook her head, not trusting the speaker or the melody. The Bauson had said the air down here was too cold for her to survive long and she had no intention of dying in the dark, despite her thoughts when she had been arguing with Namia. “If it’s alright, I’ll keep it on. I’m Jedi Padawan Tara Tarindae,” she said, bowing as best she could and feeling the beads of sweat gather and run down her back. “Are you Multvurf?” “We are the earth-movers. I am Juriska,” the voice said. Tara sent a tentative Force probe but could only make out the vague outline ahead of her. “Keep the suit if you wish, but Mother Earth protects us and she will protect you too, earth-talker. The gifts of the Bauson only promise danger.” Tara stood her ground. After a moment, there was a low chuckle. “Please yourself. I shall take you to Ayezi now.” The Multvurf turned and headed down a corridor. Tara followed, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every step. By the time they stopped again, she was light-headed. The Force buffeted and sang to her, murmuring that she was surrounded by more bodies she couldn’t see. Ahead of her was a figure, shining bright in the vision the Force gave her in the darkness. This was the Ayezi. “Juriska, why does the earth-talker still wear her armor?” The new voice, which came from the shining dark figure, was old and grated with the sound of rock on rock. “She will not listen to me, Ayezi. She believed the surface-dwellers, that our homes are inhospitable. She sees nothing but light and does not believe in the comfort of the darkness.” Tara stood silently, biting her lip in an effort to remain upright. Every part of her felt soaked to the bone with sweat. “I came to listen to your story,” she said softly. “Take off your armor.” The Ayezi’s voice was granite firm. “Once you are fed and watered, once your feet are cemented in the touch of the earth’s grace, once you reveal yourself to the wonders of the dark, then I shall tell you my story. Tara breathed out slowly. The Force murmured and hummed around her, reminding her that she was safe. Slowly, she reached up and unhooked her helmet. The relief as the cooler air hit her skin was almost palpable. There was a hiss from the surrounding Multvurf. “She cannot see,” a new voice said from the darkness before it was quickly hushed by another. Tara frowned, turning her head this way and that to catch the tiny whispers of conversation. “Look,” Ayezi whispered, her gravelly voice resonating with pleasure. “She is of the dark like us. The earth-mother sent one of the darkness. She will understand that not everything is of the light. She will tell our story.” There was a murmuring of agreement from around the cavern. “You should remove the rest,” Juriska said curtly. Tara raised an eyebrow. Under the rest of the suit she was not wearing very much. Juriska snorted. “The earth-talker is modest, Ayezi, she fears revealing her true self.” “Come, child, you are of the darkness,” Ayezi said and then laughed. “I know you. Although you do not think of yourself as a child anymore, you are still but a babe in my arms. You want all the trappings of adulthood but you are too terrified of what they might bring.” Tara frowned, wondering how the Ayezi knew that. There was another throaty chuckle. “You are not the only one the earth talks too. Remove your armor and then sit by me.” Tara slowly peeled off the suit, her fingers struggling with the clasps. The Multvurf stayed silent and unmoving around her, watching and waiting. It was so different from the surface, where everyone would rush to help her. Down here she was expected to be competent. The thought scared her as her fingers slipped over clasps and buckles. Down here they expected her to be more than a Jedi.

Earth-Talker Eventually she stepped out of the leggings, shivering slightly as her sweat-soaked shift caught the breeze. The cave was neither stifling warm nor icy cold. Instead, it hovered at what Tara would have thought was an acceptable temperature if she hadn’t been standing bare-legged in a wet, thin shift. For a second she felt panicky without a protective layer of clothing, but the Force whispered that down here she was safe. “Blankets and a drink for our earth-talker,” The Ayezi said quietly, “and then we shall begin.” Tara sank almost gratefully onto the cool loam floor. The rich smell of earth surrounded her, and a sense of peace she hadn’t felt for a long time filtered through. The tense friendships and the self-doubt and anger that had existed on the surface seemed to sink into the soil. Someone draped a blanket around her shoulders and pushed a mug of something steaming and hot into her hands. It smelled rich, spiced and warm. Tara placed it gently down onto the floor and retrieved her recording equipment. That sense of peace filled her again. This was her mission, her purpose. Here, now. This was what the Force had preordained for her. The listener and keeper of untold stories. This was what would make her ‘enough’ for the Jedi. Here in the cool earth. She was sure of it.

"Let us begin."

[hiatusfluff-blog]

third and final compilation of shimayu moments from the novel

part 1 part 2

Here’s the shimayu interactions in chronological order so that you can get a feel of the progression (details mentioned in the first post are largely omitted, though there are also parts with overlaps). It was a long and arduous process and admittedly, I had zero motivation to translate anything, but then I decided to grit my teeth and glue myself to my chair. And lo behold! :D Pardon the grammatical errors, jarring jumps between certain paragraphs and the changes in pronouns. Usually, when I switch to ‘Mayura’ after using ‘I’, I’m summarising rather than translating. Other times, it’s just... a grammatical inconsistency. Sorry ‘bout that. ≡(*′▽`)っ

Mayura asks Shimon to guide her in becoming stronger because she cannot think of any other person to depend on. Shimon responds by telling her that her request is unreasonable (and Mayura sighs in dejection), but he agrees to help her nevertheless, citing that it’s not in his character to be afraid of hassle.

Shimon’s popular with girls at school. Mayura acknowledges that it’s only natural since he’s not only good-looking but also strong. -bumping scene from post 2- Shimon points out that Mayura has always been looking at Roku since before. Mayura denies his claim but Shimon tells her that he has noticed that her eyes were always following him. Mayura frantically continues to deny his assertion and says that “Roku already has Benio” and “it’s not like that”. Shimon’s cluelessness manifests in his conclusion that Roku is someone Mayura respects greatly and she looks at him to observe and learn from him. Mayura forcefully changes the topic and asks why Shimon is eating in such a place. -bread scene from post 2-

Jinya insults Mayura very harshly and tells her to give up on her futile effort, saying that he sensed absolutely no potential in her. He tells her that to the Amakawa family, she was but a burden who will drag the family down and she has no value as a family head. He tells her to get lost and return to her comfortable home. (Note: this guy also defeats Mayura in chapter one and if I remember correctly, he punched her in the guts during the process. I was raging at him until I found out that he was deliberately behaving in such an obnoxious fashion so that Mayura will give up on being the family head and live happily as a normal girl. After the battle in the last chapter, he acknowledges Mayura’s strength and role as family head, bows his head and seeks forgiveness for his rudeness). Unconsciously, Mayura has kneeled and budding tears blurred her vision. Her throat burnt and she could not help but to sob. Right at this moment, Shimon’s voice rang through the room.

“You guys are the worst.”

Jinya tells Shimon to stay out of it since he’s an outsider but he replies by saying that he’s not an outsider because he’s the one training with Mayura every day. Shimon declares, “I don’t care what you guys think, but Otomi will definitely become stronger. One month later, I guarantee that you will not dare to talk to her in such a rude fashion.”

After Jinya exits, Mayura thanks Shimon for coming forward to help her. Internally, she admits that even though it really feels horrible to be told such harsh words, Shimon coming to her help really made her happy, and her declaration that “Otomi will definitely become stronger” gave her much courage. In her heart, she thinks that no matter what happens, she will definitely respond to Shimon’s expectations. For Shimon who is giving her his utmost support, she will certainly surpass Jinya in a month!

Mayura asks if she could accompany Shimon on a mission to gain more experience and so they go off together. Shimon defeat the impurities. As he turns to walk to his comrades, Mayura notices a shadow behind him and she calls out to Shimon.

“Shimon, behind you!”

The impurity was three metres tall and it was going to bite off Shimon’s head. Even for Shimon, such a sudden attack was hard to deal with.

“I have to protect him!” Mayura thought.

Despite the seals on her body (she’s wearing some sort of limiter seals for training purposes, I believe. That’s what made her body so heavy in the bumping scene) she does some kickass magical exorcist stuff and charge towards the impurity, shouting, “Get away from Shimon!” She defeats the impurity like a boss, stunning Shimon, because the seals should have limited her power.

There’s more exorcist explanation. The gist is that Shimon tells Mayura that her seal power and her seal control (at least I think he’s talking about something related to seal; take my exorcist summary with a pinch of salt) are superior to Roku.

“Anyhow, you need to be more confident. Your aptitude for exorcism is without a doubt on par with Master Seigen.”

They arrive at the island for training. After training, Mayura asks if there’s a place to shower and Shimon gives her the directions.

“That place should also have clothes for you to change into; feel free to use them as you please.”

After thirty minutes, Shimon greets Mayura with a stunned face. Here’s yet another adorably awkward conversation (first person from Mayura’s POV):

“O-otomi… what’s with your appearance��?”

Shimon stared at me with wide eyes. Such a shocked expression makes me a little embarrassed.

“U-um, is this very weird…?”

“Damn… there are people who come to this island for vacation huh. Just what sort of place do they think this island is?” (i.e. the bikini is probably prepared for or by those on vacation)

Shimon’s gaze erratically moves away and back to me again (and then he looks away and looks back again). How do I say it… Shimon’s indeed a boy. I wavered a little and felt really shy.

“But you see, won’t I sweat a lot from the training? In this outfit, I don’t have to worry about getting dirty.”

“Even though that’s true, how do I put it, this is poison to the eyes…”

As he desperately tries to shift his gaze away from my body, I was thinking that Shimon is really a serious person. Afterwards, they talk and Mayura asks him if he has any hobby. Shimon nods and talks about what he does outside of training (he plants, waters, trims and finds fertiliser for his plants and Mayura is like, “They’re all related to plants. O_o”). Mayura then asks if he has never played with friends. Shimon replies that there’s no exorcist of his age so he has only played with his sister. Mayura asks if he has played with any girl other than his sister. 

“Other girls?”

“You see, aren’t you popular with girls at school? It wouldn’t be strange if you had a girlfriend.”

“What are you saying? I probably wouldn’t have one. Missions and jobs make me busy enough. How will I have the time to play with girls?”

“I see… Well, let’s not talk about girlfriends. You should at least have a girl you’re interested in, right?”

“A girl I’m interested in…?”

Shimon thought about it for a while and his reply was clear. “No.” During a training, Mayura exhausts her energy and Shimon catches her body as she almost falls.

The boat they came by was washed away by the waves so they’re now effectively shipwrecked.

Shimon berates himself for causing the situation due to his negligence.Then comes this line from Mayura’s internal monologue, “In these days with this serious, perfect exorcist genius, I saw his various sides. Honestly, I sometimes think that he’s very cute. But of course, I won’t be able to say something like this.”

Here’s the conversation from the bed scene mentioned in the first post:

“Well then, I’ll be sleeping here.”

“Eh, why?”

“The cabin is small. It’s hard for two to sleep inside.”

“Ah.” The space, while limited, should suffice for two. But then, a young man and a young woman living under the same roof… noticing this point is still embarrassing.

“[some (Chinese?) proverb about girls and guys older than seven needing to stay in different places]. There’s such a saying right? Therefore, I will sleep outside.”

“Ehhh? Outside… outside’s very cold though? Hey… it’s better to stay inside. I’ll… try my best not to be bothered.”

Even though there’s nothing more embarrassing than this, I’d feel very sorry for Shimon if he hurts his body here.

“B-but…” Shimon’s face was bright red. “If this thing is discovered by others, such as Roku, you’d be troubled too right?”

“Well, that’s the case but… but as I’ve said, it isn’t as though I want to do anything weird… Eh!? Could it be that Shimon wants to do something weird….?”

“Huh!? I definitely won’t do something like that! Definitely not!”

“Well then, sleeping in the same room shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Urgh. Fine.”

Don’t even talk about weird things, after he crawled into his blanket, he turned to the other side and was completely silent. I have no idea if he should be called a gentleman or what…Speaking of it, from the start, I’ve never thought that he would do anything rude to me.

They talk more the next few days (sorry I’m not translating every conversation ^^’). Basically, because they open their hearts to each other during their conversations, Mayura feels that their distance is now closer. “Because he has been supporting me, I feel that I should work harder!”

One night, Mayura asks what will happen if they’re trapped forever on the island.

“That’s impossible. Hmm. I can’t imagine being on this island forever. That’s not a good thing.”

“Ahaha. As I thought. It’s boring if you keep training with me, isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t dislike accompanying you for training. It’s just that I have something that I want to do regardless of what happenes, and that is, to use my hands to save my sister’s future. If I can’t do that, I’d be pained.”

He talks more about Tenma and Roku (both of whom he admits he does not get along with; with Tenma, it’s because he lost to him and he wants to beat him and make him remember his name).

And Mayura thought, “The usually calm Shimon harbours such fervent feelings towards his peers. This side of Shimon really fits my impression of guys that age. It’s a bit cute…”

“That’s why I cannot stay on this island forever.”

“That’s true.”

“Of course, the reason I cannot return is not just that.” Shimon gazed at my eyes. “Otomi has not yet received acknowledgment as the family head, and it is for this reason that I’m helping you to train. If we cannot return, I cannot fulfill our agreement.”

“…Yes. You’re right.”

Anyway, Shimon’s concerned about me too. To say something like that makes me really happy.

“Shimon is such a good man!”

Shimon shakes his head.

“From discussing various things with me to accompanying me for training. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t mind it. Besides, I’m not helping you for your thanks.”

“Hey, Shimon, why are you helping me to such an extent?”

“Why… something like that… indeed. To be honest, I’m not sure.”

“You yourself don’t understand it”

“At the start, I want to repay Master Seigen. But now, it’s different. How do I put it… I feel as though I can’t leave you alone.”

“Can’t leave me alone? Why?”

“Hmm… I can’t express it well with words. It’s just that when I see Otomi, I feel as though I’m seeing my younger self.”

“Even though you’re very weak, you seek to become stronger and never give up. These parts are very similar to me. Also, your gaze is always seeking someone. This part is similar too.”

They talk more about Shimon’s admiration of Seigen.

“One day, I’ll definitely catch up to Master Seigen and surprass him!”

“Shimon’s really amazing. You’re an exorcist and you have no fears or doubts. I really respect you!”

“Is that so?” Out of shyness, Shimon scratched his cheek.

“If that’s the case, Otomi’s the same. You’re working hard daily.”

“… But I… I still feel fear from some corners of my heart.”

Mayura confides in Shimon her fears and Shimon reassures her that he’s the same.

“For my sister, I definitely cannot die, and don’t want to die. I’ve always been facing battles with such a feeling. This is not an embarrassing thing.”

I suddenly feel as though my doubts are dissipating.

“That’s why, Otomi, you’re not wrong.”

Hearing Shimon’s strong declaration, I feel warmth from the depth of my heart. To be acknowledged by someone I respect is really such a happy thing.

Shimon further reassures Mayura.

“You have to know, that you are not alone.”

As he speaks, he places his hand over my right hand. Our hands overlapped.

Shimon explains that his sister will do the same for him when anything happens. He hopes that Mayura will receive the similar courage and assurance that she’s not alone.

“That’s why, I hope that you can have courage. At the very least, I hope that you know that there’s a person here who is your comrade.”

Mayura thanks Shimon for dispelling her doubts and proclaims that she will become stronger for everyone. She wants to become an exorcist who can protect her loved ones.

“Ahh… If it’s Otomi, you can definitely do it.”

“Ehehehe, thank you. Ah that’s right. I’ve been thinking this since some time ago. It’s very stiff to call me by my first name; ‘Mayura is fine!”

“Hm? Is that so…?”

“Yup! I’ve been calling you Shimon from the start.”

“Ahh, I know. If that’s better then I’ll do that.”

Our hands were tightly linked and we nodded at each other.

Some time later, they’re rescued. Trouble has cropped up for Jinya and Mayura insists on going to help but is turned down because it’s too risky for her to go alone.

“I know it’s dangerous, and it goes against the rule, but it’s precisely because it’s dangerous that I cannot give up on helping Jinya and the others!”

“No one talked about giving up.”

“Eh?”

“If you cannot apply for a rescue mission, I’ll be the one to do it.”

“Shimon!”

“To help you gain acknowledgement as the family head, I’ll help you. That’s our agreement, isn’t it? If Jinya dies and you win by default, you’d not be able to gain anyone’s approval. Besides, I don’t dislike that determination to save someone even at the expense of breaking rules. Master Seigen also had such moments. You’re indeed his daughter. You can definitely become an amazing exorcist like Master Seigen. To fight together with such an exorcist is a thing to be proud of. That’s why, I ask of you, do fight with me, Mayura.”

“Shimon…!” My heart overflows with gratitude. This boy known as Shimon, just how much help has he given me. If I think carefully, it’s great to have him here. So long as I have Shimon’s help, I feel as though I can overcome any obstacle.

Yuzuru’s face was that of relief. She bowed her head low to Shimon and said, “If I can receive the Ikaruga family’s aid, nothing can be more assuring. Take care of Miss Mayura!”

Shimon nodded and replied, “Okay.” His face looked really reliable.

Yuzuru turned to me and said, “Miss Mayura, you have a really great friend.”

Just as she said, Shimon is already to me, an irreplaceable friend.

And then they head off to battle and there’s Mayura’s narration:

I suppose this is also the result of our long training on the island. Whatever attack Shimon wants to make, I am unintentionally able to understand the rhythm of his movement. For him, this is probably also the same. The earth and the sky, even though the distance is great, our heart and body have completely merged as one.

“Next is [insert direction and distance]!”

“Understood…!” As Shimon controls his blades, a bitter smile surfaced. “Speaking of which, Mayura, isn’t it a bit too much to order me around like this?”

“This is payback for putting me through the brutal Spartan training!”

“Good grief.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Really, you don’t have to be so polite!”

As Shimon and I bickered like a married couple ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), we dealt a critical blow with our full strength and the miasma (the black fog. I can’t remember the term for it) in front dispersed.

Even though this is a battle with lives at stake, I felt very happy for some reason. This feeling is really amazing. It is not as though I’m not afraid of battles and injuries, but if it’s with Shimon, it doesn’t feel as scary. This must be because he gave courage to me!

“Somehow, my body feels very light…!”

It must be the result of the training. But the reason is not this alone; it’s also because I have dependable comrades to lend their strength to me, and I have people to protect at my back. Because of these, I can continue to fight with my hands.

After hearing Jinya’s words, I wonder if I can become the head the family is proud of. That is probably something to work towards my whole life. Regardless, I will surely be fine. The me now has the courage to press on. Even when in doubt, there is nothing to stop my steps… the important friend who taught me all these now places his hand on my shoulder.

“That’s great. You’ve now accomplished your goal.”

I smiled and held his hand in response.

That’s right. I’m not alone. From now on, I’ll continue to work hard.

A week later, Mayura sees Shimon in school. He tells her that the heavenly commanders are very busy and have special permission to skip lessons. It’s the first time Mayura heard of such a thing and she suddenly realises that Shimon has been coming to help her even though he’s busy, and not once has he brought this up. Mayura could not help but think that this part of Shimon’s really gentle.

Mayura heaves a sigh of relief upon seeing that Shimon’s sight has completely recovered.

“Ahh. There’s no problem at all now. I came today to borrow some books on plants from the library.”

“Is that so?”

“Also, I’m a bit concerned about your situation.”

“Mine?”

“Amakawa family’s situation. After that, did you settle everything properly?”

So he was worried about me. I explained everything to him and he went along with me like a family member as I spoke (basically he nodded and responded with phrases like “is that so?” and “that’s really great”).

“My goal was to help you earn respect as a family head, but I didn’t think that you would master the [control over the white tiger seal, I think] in the process.”

“Me too. Really, it’s all thanks to Shimon. Truly, I thank you. I can never repay your kindness in my whole life.”

“How many times do you want me to say it? You don’t have to be so concerned. I did this willingly.”

“Hey, Shimon. If I can do it, you can talk to me about anything. As repayment, I’d help you no matter what it is.”

“Ahh, I’m grateful for that.”

“Yup. You can talk to me without reservation about anything. Even though I can’t win you when it comes to anything related to exorcism, I can help you with things other than that, such as cooking, desserts, fashion, and whatnot. Even topics related to love would be fine!”

“Love discussion…?” Shimon frowned.

“You see, didn’t you say that you don’t have girlfriend a while back? But what if you have such a person some time later? Even if it’s not to the degree of ‘like’, you can talk to me when you have someone you’re ‘interested in’.”

With a perplexed expression, Shimon replied in a low voice, “I see… if it’s a person of the opposite gender that I’m interested in… there is someone.”

“What!? Is that so?”

“I became… interested recently… I wonder.”

“When exactly did that happen?!”

“Well, whatever discussion it is, you don’t have to mind.”

“Ehh, since you’ve said something like that, I’ll be more concerned…”

That day, regardless of how I probed, Shimon stubbornly refused to disclose the meaning of what he just said. Feeling that Shimon’s attitude was a bit weird, I was in a state of confusion the whole day.

After a very long time, when I discover what Shimon really meant… that is yet another story.

[outpostsofbabel]

Demigods and Semi-devils, Chapter II (XII)

Duan Yu heard two people enter the hall. A man’s voice said: “Madam.” Duan Yu peered out through the crack between the door and wall. He saw a man in his thirties who was dressed like a servant, and who looked anxious and frightened. There was another man, all in black, who was very tall and thin. He was looking outside, and Duan Yu could not see his face. This man’s hands, hanging by his sides, were as large as small fans. The backs of his hands were covered with green veins. Miss Zhong’s father has such large hands, Duan Yu thought.

“Jin Xier is dead? What happened?” Mrs Zhong asked.

The servant replied: “Master sent the two of us to the north dwelling to welcome guests. He told us that there would be four guests. This afternoon, the first guest arrived. He said that his name was Yue. Master had told us that the one named Yue was to be addressed as ‘Third Master’. Jin Xier went forth to greet him, and politely addressed him as such.

“But the man leapt up in anger and shouted: ‘I am Second Master Yue! Why did you call me Third Master? You disrespected me on purpose!’ He struck Jin Xier, who fell to the ground, bleeding.”

Frowning, Mrs Zhong said: “How unreasonable! When did Third Master Yue become Second Master Yue?”

“Third Master Yue has always had a bad temper, and he is quite deranged,” said Mr Zhong, turning around.

Duan Yu’s eyes widened in shock. Mr Zhong had a long, horse-like face. His eyes were set very high up on his head, while his large round nose and mouth were squeezed together near the bottom. Because of this, there seemed to be a large swathe of empty space between his eyes and nose. Who would have thought that the pretty Zhong Ling’s father would be this ugly? It was lucky that she took after her mother, and did not resemble her father at all.

Mr Zhong had looked rather displeased, but as he turned around to meet his wife’s eyes, his expression softened. His ugly face took on a certain tenderness as he said: “A lout such as Third Master Yue might scare you. I have not let him into the valley because of this. Don’t bother yourself over such small matters.”

Mrs Zhong was terrified when she heard her husband coming, Duan Yu thought. But he is looking at her with nothing but love and reverence.

“How is that a small matter?” Mrs Zhong replied. “Jin Xier has been a loyal and honest servant for many years, and now he has gotten killed by your brutish friend. It is hard for me to take.”

“Yes, yes, you empathise with the servants,” said Mr Zhong, smiling. “It is your good heart.”

Addressing the servant, Mrs Zhong said: “Lai Fuer, what happened next?”

“Jin Xier was still alive after his beating,” Lai Fuer said. “I cried out: ‘Second Master, Second Master, do not be angry!’ The man named Yue laughed. I helped Jin Xier up, and brought the guest food and drink.

“He asked me: ‘Why... why has Zhong not come to receive me?’

“I said: ‘Our master did not know of Second Master’s arrival, or he would have come to receive you in person. I will bring him the news right away.’

“The man nodded, and he looked at Jin Xier who was standing in a corner trembling. He said to him: ‘You’re silently cursing me for that blow I gave you just now, aren’t you?’

“Jin Xier quickly said: ‘No, no! I would not dare, I would never dare.’

“The man went on: ‘You must be thinking that I am a wicked man, as wicked as they can get. Ha!’

“Jin Xier replied: ‘No, no! Second Master is a great good man, and not wicked at all.

“The man scowled then, and shouted: ‘Are you saying that I am not at all wicked?’

“Jin Xier was so frightened that he was shaking all over. He said: ‘You... Second Master... is not at all evil, not... not even a bit.’ At this, the man bellowed in rage. His hand suddenly shot out and broke Jin Xier’s neck...” The servant’s voice was quavering, and he was obviously still shaken by the incident.

Mrs Zhong sighed and waved her hand. “You have had a fright. Go and rest a while.”

“Yes, madam,” Lai Fuer said, leaving the chamber.

Mrs Zhong shook her head and sighed again. “My heart is greatly unsettled. I need some quiet.”

“Yes,” her husband replied. “I am going to see Third Master Yue, and make sure that he doesn’t cause any more trouble.”

“Please, call him Second Master Yue.”

Mr Zhong snorted. “He may be fierce, but I am not afraid of him. He has come from afar to aid me, and for that I will not quibble with him over the Jin Xier matter.”

His wife shook her head again. “We two have lived here in this valley for ten years, and in that time, I have not set foot out of the valley once. Why are you still not satisfied? Why must you invite the Four Brigands here, creating such a rumpus? You... always speak to me with sweet words and a honeyed tongue. You actually don’t care about me at all.”

“How... how have I not cared about you?” Mr Zhong said hurriedly. “Have I not invited these four men here because of you?”

Mrs Zhong made a small noise of disapproval. “For me? Well, I thank you then. If you really wanted to do something for me, you would listen to me and send the Four Brigands packing.”

In the next room, Duan Yu was listening to this conversation with some incredulity. That Third Master Yue killed someone for no reason at all, and indeed that is the height of wickedness. Could there be three other people as wicked as he?

Mr Zhong strode up and down the room, saying angrily: “The one named Duan has disgraced me. If I, Zhong Wanchou, do not avenge that wrong, how will I ever face the world?”

So your name is Zhong Wanchou? Zhong of Ten Thousand Grievances? Duan Yu thought. Now that is a rather inappropriate name. As they say, feuds are easy to start but difficult to end. It is a terrible thing to bear one grudge - what more ten thousand? No wonder you have such a long face. For someone with your looks to marry someone as beautiful as Mrs Zhong is a great blessing. You should change your name to Zhong Wanxin, Zhong of Ten Thousand Blessings.

Frowning, Mrs Zhong replied coldly: “It is me you hate, and not him. If you wanted to make things difficult for him, you could go to his home. Victory could be decided with your fists. You’re getting help from other people. Even if you win, what glory will there be in it?”

Green veins stood out on Mr Zhong’s forehead as he cried: “Do you know how many footsoldiers and petty generals he has under him? Even if I wanted to spar with him in single combat, he is always hiding away somewhere. What can I do about that?” Mrs Zhong bowed her head and said nothing, tears falling onto the silk of her tunic.

“I’m sorry, Bao, there now, don’t be angry,” Zhong Wanchou said hurriedly. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.” Mrs Zhong was still silent, although the tears fell faster. Mr Zhong scratched his head, grimacing in distress. “Bao, please don’t be angry. I couldn’t control myself, it was terrible of me.”

“You have never forgotten what happened then,” Mrs Zhong said in a low voice. “My life barely has any meaning. Why don’t you just kill me now and end it here? Then you won’t be so unhappy all the time. Just go and marry another beautiful woman.”

Mr Zhong hit himself twice on his face. “I’m sorry, it was terrible of me.”

Duan Yu could not help but let out a chortle when he saw the man hit himself on his long, horse-like face. But the moment the sound left his mouth, he knew he was in trouble. He hoped that Zhong Wanchou had not heard it, but the man shouted: “Who is that?” He kicked the room door open with a crash and stormed into the room.

Duan Yu felt a hand grasp him by the scruff of his neck and haul him out of the room. He fell heavily on the floor and stars swam before his eyes. He felt as though every bone in his body had been broken.

Zhong Wanchou hoisted him up again with one hand, bellowing: “Who are you? What were you doing hiding in my wife’s room?” A cloud of suspicion came across his face as he saw that Duan Yu was young and good-looking. He turned to his wife. “Bao, you... you... again....”

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” Mrs Zhong said, annoyed. “Let him down; he came here bearing news.”

“What news?” Zhong Wanchou roared, still holding Duan Yu high above the ground. “You foppish little dandy, you’re clearly up to no good. What were you doing skulking around in my wife’s room? Spit it out! If you even try to lie, I’ll smash your head to smithereens, just like a pumpkin seed.” He slammed his hand down with a crash, breaking a pearwood table nearby.

Duan Yu was still sore from the fall. Now he had been lifted, struggling, into the air, and Mr Zhong seemed to suspect that something was going on between him and his wife. Furious, he shouted: “My surname is Duan, and if you want to kill me, hurry up and do so. What nonsense are you spouting?”

Zhong Wanchou brandished his fist. “You little wretch, you’re called Duan as well?” he shouted. “Duan again... Duan again!” His rage suddenly melted into misery and tears welled up from his large round eyes.

Duan Yu suddenly felt pity for this large man. He must know that he was unable to match up to his wife in terms of looks or talent, which explained his jealousy of a complete stranger. It was, in fact, rather pathetic. Duan Yu forgot that his life hung in this man’s hands. In a gentle, comforting voice, he said: “My surname is Duan, but I have never seen Mrs Zhong before today. There is no need for you to be suspicious or upset.”

The big man’s face lit up. “Really?” he said in a hoarse voice. “You’ve never... you’ve never seen Bao before?”

“I have not been in this place for more than an hour,” Duan Yu replied.

Zhong Wanchou’s mouth cracked open in a grin, and he laughed. “Right, right, Bao has not left this valley for ten years. Ten years ago, you were just eight or nine years old. Naturally, you couldn’t have... couldn’t have...” But still he held Duan Yu suspended in the air.

Mrs Zhong’s face was flushed. “Put Young Master Duan down!” she said.

“Of course, of course,” Mr Zhong said hurriedly. He gently lowered Duan Yu to the ground. Then suddenly, his face clouded over with suspicion again. “Young Master Duan? Young Master? Who... who is your father?”

If I lie again, it would seem as though I had a guilty conscience, Duan Yu thought. So he said: “I did not tell Mrs Zhong the truth earlier on. I should not have hidden the truth. My name is Duan Yu, styled Heyu. I am from Dali. My father’s name is Zhengchun.”

Zhong Wanchou had not fully absorbed what Duan Yu said about his father when Mrs Duan burst out in a shaky voice: “Your father is... is Duan... Duan Zhengchun?”

Duan Yu nodded. “Yes!”

“Duan Zhengchun!” bellowed Zhong Wanchou in a voice that shook the rafters. His face had turned red and he was trembling violently. “You... you are the son of that dog, Duan Zhengchun?”

“How dare you insult my father?” Duan Yu cried furiously.

“And why shouldn’t I dare?” Zhong Wanchou shouted back. “Duan Zhengchun, you dog, you scoundrel, you bastard!”

Duan Yu realised it then. The sign outside saying: “Those named Duan who enter this valley will die,” must have been put up because he hates my father. He has extended that hate to all who share his name. He said out loud in a stern voice: “Mr Zhong, if you bear a grudge against my father, you should confront him and settle it there. If you have the guts, insult my father to his face. What kind of hero or good man insults someone behind his back? My father is in Dali City. It is only too easy to track him down. Why hang such a sign outside your own door, saying that those named Duan who enter this valley will die?”

Zhong Wanchou’s face paled, then reddened again. Duan Yu’s words seemed to have struck him to the quick. Staring daggers at Duan Yu, he raised his fists to kill the younger man. But then, with two loud crashes, he took out his rage on nearby chairs instead. At the same time, he lashed out with his foot, kicking a hole in the wall.

“I’m not afraid of losing to your father,” he cried. “I... I’m just afraid... afraid that your father will find out... find out that Bao is living here...” His voice took on the quality of a sob, and he hid his face in his hands. “I’m a coward, I’m a coward!” He ran from the room. Crashes from beyond sounded as though he was stumbling into many bookshelves, flowerpots and benches along the way.

[128thhungergames]

The ten tributes were seated around the wooden table, each in the worse shape than the other.

“Let’s begin. For the first round, we shall be doing ten turns. Ten turns of electrical shocks. Each of you has an assigned number. We’ll be drawing two numbers during one turn and you’ll have to decide which one of the two will be receiving the shock.”

“Abraxas!” The joyful tone of the Gamemaker earned a low angry growl from the blonde male. “and Hawk. So Abraxas, would you rather give a shock to yourself --- or your ally?”

“Myself.” He grunted in response, silencing Hawk’s protests. 

“Very well.” With that Abraxas received a shock to his body.

“Ooh look at that. Abraxas again. And --- Dante. Who would you rather shock, Abraxas?” Abraxas looked at the career male, torn between decisions. He just took a shock and didn’t fancy receiving other. Dante was a career, but when Abraxas saw how hard he took the death of his disctrict partner, something told him that he wasn’t such a bad guy. “The response’s the same.”

It surprised everyone, especially Dante. “You didn’t have to do that.” He muttered quietly.

“Moving on. Alaska. Aand Iris. Would you rather, Alaska, give an electric shock to yourself o r Iris?”

“Please don’t hurt her.” Ciél who was sitting next to Alaska whispered to her, his eyes glassy from both pain and the fear of seeing Iris in even more pain than she already was.

“I don’t owe you anything. Her.”

“Bitch!” Ciél screamed at her, but was interrupted by Iris who just received the electric shock. 

Iris’s head bowed down and her eyes blinked as if she was falling asleep. 

“Iris, Iris look at me. Look at me.” Ciél’s voice was firm, but also bore shade of fear. The brunette let out soft sob as she raised her head up to look at him. “You’ll be okay. I promise you, you’ll be okay.” He kept whispering to her as he leaned as close as he could to her.

“Iris, just hold on okay?” Kira screamed at her from opposite of table. She too was worried about the petite brunette. 

“You’ll pay for this.” Ciél hissed at Alaska. 

“Next. Look at that, Ciél.”

“I want her.” He jerked his chin towards Alaska, words laced with venom and anger.

“Let’s see... Sorry Ciél, you’re paired with Dante. So, would you rather shock yourself or Dante?”

Ciél too didn’t think that Dante was a typical cruel career, but these games were a matter of preservation and it turned out that he’s not the only one with the opinion. He looked at the career boy, who gave him the slightest of nods as if to encourage him that it’s alright.

“Dante.”

“Alrighty. Next we have Senna and --- Dante. Ooh this will be interesting. Senna, would you rather ---”

“Myself.” She barks out before the Gamemaker has a chance to finish the sentence.

“Don’t be an idiot, I can handle it.” He hissed at her, but she had her mind made up and refused to listen to him.

“Okay then. Alaska aaand Fiona. Well, well, well. Will Alaska be equally ruthless when it comes to her ally?”

Silence befell on them. Alaska didn’t want to receive a shock, but she also didn’t want to look like she was betraying the alliance. 

“Tick, tock Alaska.”

“Myself.” She uttered almost inaudibly. 

“Well then, only four more turns to go. Some of you are rather lucky ones, while others... not so much. And speaking of, Abraxas. It’s your turn again. This time with Alaska. Look at that Abraxas, you got paired with your ally. It must be a really hard choice for you.”

“Third time’s a charm, no?”

“Very well. Moving on to... Fiona. Paired with, oh my, Abraxas. Boy, you really are a favourite.”

“Me, I choose me.” Fiona hurriedly replied.

“Fi, I’m fine, really.” Abraxas tried to convince her but she shook her head at him. She wasn’t going to let him get shocked for the fourth time.

“Hmm. Ciél. And believe it or not, Alaska.” The Gamemaker was chuckling out loud. Ciél wore a cruel smirk of his own too. For the first time since the game began, he moved away from Iris and closer to Alaska.

“Give her a double.”

Alaska gasped in shock, her bottom lip trembling. “You can’t do that.”

“Are you bloody crazy?” Abraxas shouted at him, defending his ally.

“Well actually why not. We can bend the rules a little.” The Gamemaker smiled viciously and turned up the voltage.

“Finally, we have Alaska. Paired with ... once again Iris.” The Gamemaker was laughing and Ciél paled. Alaska’s pained face turned into a cruel grin.

“Can you up the voltage once more? Let’s say another double?”

“You fucking cunt, I will kill you!” Ciél barked at her and spit into her face, but Alaska laughed at him.

“Alaska, please.” Kira tried to beg from across the table. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Revenge is a dish best served cold, but I suppose it can bear a little spark too.” The blonde replied wickedly.

“Give the shock to me.” Ciél said out loud. “Please, I’ll take it for her. It’s me you want to see suffer anyways.” 

“Mhm, exactly. If she suffers, then you suffer. It’s a simple math.”

“Don’t do this, I beg of you.”

“Alaska, have some sense.” Kira spoke again. “We should be helping each other out.”

“Quadruple voltage. To Iris.” 

“Very well...”

The brunette awoke and screamed loudly as she received the voltage, only to fall unconscious after it was over.

“The first round’s over. Take a short break everyone.

Ciél scooped up Iris’s body into his arms, dragging her away from everyone. Kira quickly ran to them and the three sat down in a corner. As much as Ciél wanted to rip Alaska’s eyes out, he knew that Iris needed him more at the moment. 

“Please Iris, please hold on.” He begged her through tears as he hugged her limp body against himself. Kira was squeezing Iris’s hand, begging her to be strong.

On the other side of the room stood Senna and Dante. 

“That was a dick move.” Dante muttered. He felt sorry for Ciél. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if someone did the same to Senna. Even though he didn’t have any romantical feelings towards, he considered her family. Perhaps it was odd to think of her that way after few weeks of knowing her, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Mhm.” She gave him a curt nod as a reponse, silence enveloping both of them until Dante spoke again.

“Y’ didn’t have to do that.” Senna gave him a puzzled look. “I mean, y’ didn’t have to shock yourself for me.”

“I know.” She replied, but didn’t elaborate any further. He assumed that she wasn’t feeling like talking much so he dropped the subject. At the moment he wished he could see inside her mind. 

In another corner of the room stood Fiona, Hawk and Alaska. Abraxas stood further from them with Kamali who was taking care of him. 

“What the hell was that?” Fiona hissed at her, fighting the urge to slap her ally.

“What are you talking about?” Alaska was laying on the ground, looking up at Fiona. Once the adrenaline rush of revenge left her body, she started to feel her injuries again. “I didn’t shock you.” She reminded her.

“I’m not talking about myself.” Fiona scowled at the blonde. “That girl is going to be dead soon. Because of you!”

“It’s the Hunger Games.” Alaska sang the name.

“It’s different.” Fiona spat back at her. “We are finally cooperating. We should have been cooperating from the very beginning. The Gamemakers told us that everyone who makes it through the five stages gets to go home.”

“You actually believe that?” Alaska mocked her naivety.

“That’s it. I’m done with you.” Fiona spat on the ground next to the laying Alaska. “You disgust me.”

Alaska watched as the brunette left and looked at Hawk who was still standing there. “You ‘done’ with me too?”

Hawk pursed his lips, looking into empty space and avoiding Alaska’s gaze. He still considered her his ally, even though she was being unreasonably cruel. Though in some twisted way he understood her logic. 

There was Fiona on the other hand. He didn’t want to break off alliance with her. But would he betray an ally for another one? 

“Hawk?” Alaska asked when she received no response from him.

Their conversation was interrupted by the joyful Gamemaker who arrived to the scene. “Take a seat everyone, second round is up.”

“Now second round is more interesting. This time we won’t be shocking anyone. But you will have to choose between stabbing yourself or stabbing your opponent. Oh but that is not the best part. Since some of you are in bad shape, whenever you stab your opponent, you’ll receive a pill which will up your health by 10 percent. If you choose to stab yourself, no one gains anything. Let’s begin.”

“Dante! And Fiona. Would you rather stab yourself or stab Fiona?”

Dante’s eyes watched the female. There was no sign of emotion from her. No pleading, but also no approval. However Senna was glaring at him from other side of the table, her gaze asking him how is he even considering this. Perhaps if he was alone in the games, he wouldn’t care so much, but he knew that he had to be strong for Senna.

“Fiona.”

Fiona hissed loudly as the knife was plunged into her stomach, while Dante received a pill tube with a greenish liquid inside. He took it between his fingers and made an eye contact with Ciél. The blonde looked at him hopefully and Dante threw the pill towards him. 

Ciél caught it swiftly and immediately opened Iris’s mouth and fed it to her.

“Thank you.” Kira who was sitting next to him whispered and Dante nodded his head at her. 

“Did I miss anything?” The Gamemaker who was too busy with watching Fiona squirm in pain asked them. Both Kira and Dante just shrugged their heads.

“Now we havee... what a turn of events. Fiona. And Kira.”

Kira didn’t have to wait for the reply. Fiona was weak and Kira suffered no damage this round. It was an easy decision.

“Very well. Iris. I don’t suppose she’s in a condition to decide is she? Ciél, wake her up a bit. We need to know whether she’d rather stab herself or Hawk.”

“Are you crazy?” Ciél hissed at him, but Hawk interrupted them.

“It’s alright, stab me. Iris isn’t in a condition to talk.” 

When Iris received the pill, she finally woke up, even though she was still dazzled from everything. Ciél led out a loud grateful when she opened her eyes. 

“Alright, alright, moving on. Iris again, well would you look at that. Against Dante.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” She whispered to Ciél.

“Darling, you’re fragile right now.” He spoke gently towards her. “You can’t take any more wounds.”

“It’s fine, Iris.” Dante spoke and not even Senna protested. “You can repay when we all get out of here alive.” He smiled at her jokingly and Iris even though was still reluctant, was eventually convinced by the two boys.

“Okay. Dante.” Dante tried to show as little pain as he could because he didn’t want to make Iris feel even more guilty and also he saw that Senna was looking at him. The last thing he needed was for her to worry about him.

“Next we have Ciél. Choosing between himself and Abraxas. Now we know that if you decide to stab Abraxas, he dies. However if you decide to stab yourself, you’ll fall unconscious. It’s going to be pretty hard to protect your lady friend that way.”

Iris looked at Ciél, worried about him but at the same she didn’t want to see Abraxas die. Over the course of the entire games Abraxas has been nothing but selfless. 

Ciél considered his options. On one hand Abraxas was still Alaska’s ally and he defended her. On the other hand, he truly was probably the kindest soul out of them all.

“I choose me.” As soon as Ciél was stabbed, he fell unconscious, making Iris gasp in fear.

“Moving on. Hawk. Against Iris.”

“She’ll fall unconscious again.” Kira said in worried voice, pleading for Iris. 

“Relax. I choose myself.” Hawk said in kind voice which turned into a pained his as the knife was stabbed into his gut.

“Abraxas! Well I don’t think the poor guy’s able to choose, now is he? Well up against Dante. Since I don’t suppose Abraxas would have a death wish, I’m afraid the choice is clear here, Dante.”

“What happened?” Abraxas asked once he woke up after the pill and looked questioningly at Dante who was grunting in pain. 

“Nothing.” Kamali said quickly, because she didn’t want him to feel guilty.

“Look what we have here. Kira and Abraxas. Well one of you is going to be very close to your death, after the decision.”

“I’m sorry, Abraxas.” Kira muttered quietly as she made her decision.

“And for the last round. Kamali. Versus Kira. Well Kamali, would you rather--”

“Kira.” She snapped.

“Are you insane? She’ll fall unconscious, you’re in perfect health.” Iris spat out. It was her turn now to protect her allies.

“I’m not in ‘perfect health’. Besides, this is a competition.”

“A competition?” Fiona scowled, frowning at Kamali. “Abraxas is dragging you along these entire games. You would have died long time ago were it not for his help, you ungrateful leech.”

“And were it not for me, he would have died in the first phase. Alaska as well. So no, I don’t owe anyone a damn thing and I choose Kira.”

After Kira was stabbed and fell unconscious, the Gamemaker granted them a break. 

Iris had her hands full with Ciél and Kira who were both unconscious, so Fiona came to help her while Hawk took care of Abraxas.

Kamali distanced herself from everyone as well as Alaska and Senna was watching over Dante who was weak from the stab wound.

“Breaktime over, bring everyone to the table. This is our final round. Everyone who makes it through gets three pills to pump up their health for the next phase. 10 turns as always. This time we are picking out three people for each turn. Person A is going to decide whether person B gets stabbed or person C gets hit with this beautiful sjambok. As for people who are unconscious, the person on their right is going to decide for them. Let us begin.”

“First round. Iris is going to choose whether Senna gets stabbed or Fiona gets hit with the sjambok.”

Iris looked at Fiona. The girl helped her during the break, but then again Senna hasn’t done anything wrong to her either. 

“I can’t, I can’t decide.” Iris spoke quickly, stuttering at her words.

“Well Iris either you decide or one of your allies is going to take the fall.” At that Iris’s eyes widened, she couldn’t risk losing her allies.

“The sjambok.”

“Very well. Next we have Ciél. Oh well, I guess he won’t be doing much of deciding. Alaska, you are deciding for him.”

“What? He despises the woman, I’m his ally.” Iris tried to reason with the Gamemaker but he insisted that rules must be followed.

“Stab Kamali or sjambok for Hawk.”

“Kamali.” She decided without skipping a beat.

“Excellent! Next we have Kamali. Stab Alaska or ---”

“Stab Alaska.”

With that Alaska fell unconscious.

“Fiona. Stab Kamali or sjambok for Senna.”

“Don’t owe anyone anything?” Fiona taunted as she looked at Kamali. “Stab her.”

“Well, well, well. I appreciate the enthusiasm. And it appears you’re deciding once again Fiona. Stab Dante or sjambok for Hawk.”

“Fi, I’ll be okay.”

“No. Everyone’s in for themselves, apparently. Can’t see why I should be any different. Stab Dante.”

“You are dead!” Senna shouted at her, spitting venom.

“Ciél is up. Well, Alaska’s unconscious too, I suppose Iris you can take over this time. Stab Alaska or sjambok for Ciél. Oh my, oh my.”

“You’re asking me to choose between killing someone and hurting the person I love?”

“Life ain’t fair, Iris.”

Tears rolled down on Iris’s cheeks. She didn’t want to be the one to say the death sentence, but she would never bring herself to hurting Ciél.

“Alaska.”

“Well it’s supposed to be Alaska’s turn, but I don’t think that will be possible. So who do we have here next. Fiona, you are one lucky girl tonight. Stab Abraxas or sjambok for Ciél.”

“Sjambok.” The Gamemaker struck Ciél across his back.

“Dante. Hmm he doesn’t seem like a chatty person now. Senna, would you take over? Stab Iris or sjambok for yourself?”

Senna looked at Iris who seemed to be mentally preparing herself for the stabbing.

“Myself.”

“Very well. Abraxaaas, oh no. Hawk, take over for him? Well this is interesting. Stab Ciél oor sjambok Abraxas.”

“Fuck.” Hawk cursed loudly, because either decision meant death for that person. 

“Please, don’t. I beg of you, I’ll do anything, do not kill Ciél.” Iris sobbed pleadingly.

“It’s a competition.” Fiona spoke up.

“Shut up!” Iris snapped at her. “He’s been protecting me these entire games, I cannot watch him die.”

“Then close your eyes.” Fiona hissed at her and Iris couldn’t believe that this girl was helping her half an hour ago.

“You’re not the one deciding, Fi.” Hawk muttered, his head bowed down, leaning against his hands.

“You’re not actually considering letting Abraxas die, are you? He’s your ally, he took an electric shock for you, you coward!”

“He will resent you forever.” Senna spoke up suddenly, interrupting the conversation. “If you choose to save him, that is.”

“Excuse you? He’ll be grateful that he’s alive, you moron.” Fiona snapped at her.

“Twat.” Senna shot back. “Haven’t you seen how he’s been behaving these entire games? He will never forgive himself if he finds out that a person had to die for him to live. He will never forgive you.”

“Fucking hell.” Hawk muttered once again, because Senna was right. Fiona was also right. And Iris looked so broken that the last thing he wanted was to take her man from her.

“Tick tock, Hawk.” The Gamemaker quipped in.

“Abraxas.” He whispered.

“You, dick! He’s your friend, you are letting your friend die!” Fiona yelled at him from the bottom of her lungs before turning towards Iris. “And you. You ungrateful slut, he’s your district partner! Look at him! All of you look at him, you are killing him! Fucking traitors!”

“Okay, okay. Let’s relax there. Aaand Kamali. Mhm, Senna could you do the honors? Stab Fiona or sjambok... Alaska, well no use in that. Choosing again, Hawk. Here we go. Stab Fiona or sjambok Hawk.”

“Stab the wench.”

“Congratulations! You all made it through. Here are your antidotes. Let us move to phase four.”

[wot-tidbits]

Three years of the good and the absurd. Part 2

Yesterday I talked here about the stuff that regarded me personally. And I state it again I am not angry for what has been said behind my back.

The following  is the part for the stuff that really made me angry.

Let jump to the first example.

Note: Narg = wot-tidbits

 “Person 1: Lol Someone reblogged my post and was like wot-tidbits should be on your list thing LOL

Person 2: HAHAHAHAHA  my laughter was loud and ugly. what poor soul suggested that and thought it was a good idea?

Person 1: I considered reblogging with just "no" …… Yeah I followed them for a while too but then I saw too many post from Narg

Person 2: Mmhmm, I noticed them liking Narg's stuff a bit, so I was. a bit ehhh.

Person 1: Yeeeep. That's enough to get an unfollow from me”

“Person 1: why do people I follow and consider friends keep reblogging shit from Narg

Peson 2: I wonder the same myself

Person 3: I tend to unfollow people that reblog from Narg”

You can be called many names, you can be labeled for many sins. But it is still up to you to decide what to do and how to defend yourself. But what about when completely innocent blogs are being taken as target while not even being aware of that? These people cannot defend themselves for the consequences of what they reblog but they took the blame for the actions, decisions and opinions of another blog.

Actually the suggestion was for wot-tibits AND for another amazing blog rand-al-thor-the-dragon-reborn which at that time was one of the best around and they deserved a spot with their hard work. But they had a big sin to be blamed for.

Their sin was not about sharing posts about my views and not sharing my controversial opinions. Their only sin was to reblog a WOT-related post. The same sin was commited by all the other “unfollowed” blogs mentioned above. Yes, you can unfollow whoever you want for whatever reason you want. No one put a ban upon it. But it doesn’t mean the reasons aren’t allowed to be put under spotlight. I can understand if those blogs shared the opinions, the views and all “the triggering” stuff made by myself in this blog. But they are “punished” for the single reason that they shared their love for WOT. They saw WOT-related stuff which they liked and they reblogged without thinking and with the idea to support WOT. They didn’t do it with the clear thought that this way they shared the wot-tidbits’ opinions. They are “punished” for their love of WOT and they cannot even realize it or defend themselves for their “sin”.

It is understandable that I have to take the consequences for my own personal opinion, but why third completely innocent blogs have to share the same fate as they aren’t aware of it?

The second example:

“I just ignore him when he reblogs my meta analysis, because it’s not worth the potential harassment of his fanbase if I tell him to stop and they get angry at me telling him that.”

“The issue is, some of the nastier parts of the fandom are the ones who follow him. So it’s not even the size that concerns me, so much as the unpleasantness.”

“Person 1: Narg's followers would attack the nicest people so long as they dislike Narg. Well, not all of them. But he just seems to attract more of the crazies than others.

Person 2: Nah I mean like there are two ends of the spectrum here. Narg vs elan-morin-tedronai and failemyfalcon

Person 2: They're the most vocal, anyways

Person 2: Or were

Person 3: Once it became clear that shouting and arguing and being reasonable and polite was getting them nowhere, they bowed out of the conflict

Person 1: I didn't bother doing that because I'm worried about getting harassed by anon of there's. I just ignore them.”

I hope you understand, my issue isn’t any concern about myself. It is not personal offence. I am being pissed off about how third blogs, which are completely innocent, cannot defend themselves for the accusations above. How the group above decided that my followers are the nastier part of the fandom? I am not aware of a single harassment made by my follower for the single reason that someone disliked wot-tidbits. Do you see where this is going? They divided the fans without any proof. Only speculations. They did that because they fear to talk to me. This is insane and absurd. You can always express your opinion about me and I will never lead a witch hunt after you that you cannot criticize me. There are above 2000 people who potentially read my blog. I cannot be hold responsible for every single one of them doing something unsupported by me like harassment. But such people are the exception, not the norm. You can’t just cut the tree for a few bad apples.

I just cannot accept the idea that because of me they are ready to blame hundreds of people for my sins.

And somehow according to the examples above I am still the unreasonable one.

I am not the one who tried to divide fans in first place.

My offer for unity is still open.

Let the Light keep you safe

Light One