#to mistreat certain kinds of people because um actually they like it???

[rustedleopard]

I didn't read Harry Potter back when it was exceptionally popular and JK Rowling hadn't yet exposed herself as a transphobe, so when I did read it (when I was in my teens -- still before JK Rowling exposed herself -- and I had already read Twelve Kingdoms, which is an exceptionally good fantasy series btw), I couldn't help but feel a bit duped. Like, everyone and their mom was hyping it up to be an amazing, life-changing story and I read it and it was just... Alright? There wasn't anything about it that made me stop reading and go "holy shit, I'm going to carry this part of the story forward with me for the rest of my life." It was just. Tepid. At best.

Anyways, there's really no point to this post beyond some personal musings and the suggestion to, oh yeah, stop supporting JK Rowling and read better fantasy stories, because there are plenty out there.

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 13 (Final)

~ Previous Part ~

Gavin couldn’t stop himself from turning over his shoulder to look at Rael, who apparently had information about his theft from the alteon diplomat. Immediately, Gavin was suspicious. What information could Rael possibly have about something he hadn’t witnessed? Anything he knew that the Emperor wouldn’t already, would have to have come from Gavin himself… “Oh shit, he’s not really talking about that is he?”

What did Rael hope to gain in telling the Emperor that Gavin had been commissioned to steal from the diplomat? Was he just doing his duty as a soldier by divulging everything he knew? Or was there something more to it? When Gavin had first told Rael that he had been hired to steal the ring, he’d seemed surprised, but hadn’t expressed any desire to confess the truth. Then again, Gavin had already proven unable to read Rael.

“Very well, go ahead,” the Emperor prompted, hands folded on the table as he looked at Rael with interest.

Gavin stared back at his former captor, unable to take his eyes off the giant man. “While Gavin Stone chose not to disclose this to the public, in our time together he did reveal to me that he was in fact hired by a third party to burgle Lady Elyth,” Rael explained smoothly. “So while Gavin Stone did perform the actual deed, the idea was not his own.” His voice had the same formal, all business tone it’d had when Gavin first met him, and yet this time there was a vague hint of...was it desperation? No, it couldn’t be. Gavin had to be just imagining things at this point.

The Emperor gave an interested hum. “Intriguing,” he remarked before turning to look at Gavin. “Is this true?” he inquired.

While Gavin hadn’t been planning on explaining the full circumstances of the robbery to the Emperor, he wasn’t about to deny it now that Rael had done so. Lying at this point would only make him look more suspicious than he already did. “Yes, sir,” Gavin replied, hoping the honorific wasn’t an improper term to use with the Emperor.

The giant sovereign gave a nod of understanding. He took a long, thoughtful pause as he considered the new information before focusing back on Gavin. “Is there a reason you didn’t report this?” he asked, a serious look in those yellow eyes of his.

God, it was intimidating enough being stared at by a giant, but being stared at by a giant who ruled over an entire dimension of giants was just something else entirely. And Gavin had thought meeting Orlando Bloom at a music festival when he was seventeen had been daunting. Gavin swallowed. “Keep it together,” he ordered himself. If he wanted the Emperor to treat him like a person, it was possible he would need to earn his respect first.

“Sir, whether I was hired or not doesn’t change the fact that I committed the crime,” Gavin started. “And since I don’t know the real name of the man who hired me, I didn’t see a point in reporting it to authorities.” There was also the fact that Gavin had never really been one to snitch, especially on his fellow criminals, but he wasn’t about to say that part in a room with a soldier and a political leader.

“I see,” the Emperor responded pensively. “Well, I consider taking responsibility for your own actions to be quite noble,” he told Gavin with complete sincerity in his voice. “Truthfully, I never took Ashryn’s suggestion very seriously,” he admitted. “I’ve worked quite hard to develop a peaceful and friendly relationship with humankind, and I am not about to undo that by mistreating my first human convict.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. Did he hear that right? Did the Emperor really just, one after the other, call him noble and say that he wouldn’t lock him up in a display cage? It was hard for Gavin not to let a wave of relief crash over him. The news was great, but he still didn’t know what fate did await him. Not being treated like an animal really was the bare minimum after all.

“Um...so what are you planning to do with me?” Gavin found himself asking. He was sick and tired of the uncertainty, of not knowing what was in store for him. Whatever his sentence might be, he just wanted to know what it was already so he could start figuring out how to cope with it.

The Emperor’s eyebrows lifted slightly. He seemed somewhat taken aback by Gavin’s abrupt question. It was possible the man wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to that way. Gavin hoped he hadn’t done something taboo. He wasn’t intending to be disrespectful, he just really didn’t know how to interact with literal royalty.

Apparently, the Emperor wasn’t too upset, because a small smile had taken form on his face. “Well,” he began, glancing back at Rael. “I find myself quite fascinated by your willingness to speak up in front of me in order to defend this human.”

“Is that what he did?” Gavin asked himself. Had Rael really been standing up for him? Was it really more than him just doing his job?

“You were aware that many important figures have negative opinions of Gavin Stone, and yet you risked your reputation by speaking up for him,” the Emperor went on.

Suddenly everything was beginning to make a lot more sense. The whole scene out in the hallway...it had been all about Rael protecting his reputation. He couldn’t choose a human over an alteon, lest he risk being looked down upon by his peers. Of course, none of that made what he’d done okay, but at least Gavin understood why now. “Does this mean he had some kind of change of heart...is that why he told the Emperor about me being hired…?” he pondered to himself.

The Emperor’s gaze suddenly returned to Gavin. “I believe I have decided what your sentence will be,” he announced firmly, a satisfied smile on his face that Gavin wasn’t sure how to take. “Since the two of you have clearly established the foundations of a relationship, I have decided that, in order to atone for your crime, you will serve under Rael as an assistant for a minimum of one year.”

Gavin’s mouth fell open, but before he could even form a coherent thought, he heard Rael’s stunned voice exclaim from behind him, “What?!”

-

The word had slipped from Rael’s mouth before he could stop it. He had just been so shocked by the Emperor’s announcement that all thoughts of propriety and manners suddenly flew out the window. “Sorry, your majesty,” he quickly recovered. “I just--I wasn’t expecting that.”

Take a human on as an assistant?! It was completely unheard of--of course it was unheard of, humans were tiny people who lived in another realm, why would one ever serve as an assistant to a common alteon soldier? Rael didn’t even know what to think. The Emperor clearly trusted him enough to put Gavin in his ward, but what the hell was Rael supposed to do with a diminutive person tagging along with him while he worked? Plus there was the matter of he and Gavin’s last encounter. Something told Rael the human didn’t much want to hang around with the person who had threatened him not once, but twice within a few hours.

“I’m aware that it’s unorthodox, but to be frank, this entire situation is unorthodox,” the Emperor stated. “This way, Gavin Stone will be able to serve his punishment while learning about and experiencing our realm.” It seemed the relationship between alteons and humans was even more important to the Emperor than Rael had realized--he was completely breaking away from the norm for the sake of diplomacy.

“Are you sure it won’t be too dangerous?” Rael had to ask. On a regular basis, his job wasn’t typically overly treacherous, but even the mildest thing to him could be potentially life threatening to someone as small as Gavin.

The Emperor offered a gentle smile. “I’m certain Gavin Stone will be quite safe in your hands, Rael.” It was easy for him to say that, he didn’t know what Rael had done just ten minutes prior--if he did, he would probably never let Gavin within a hundred feet of the temper-prone excuse for an Imperial Guard soldier.

“Uh--excuse me, sir,” Gavin piped up nervously. He was facing towards the Emperor, so Rael couldn’t see his facial expression. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see it. “What exactly can someone like me do as an assistant?” the human inquired, voicing the question that Rael had been pondering.

“You will do whatever Rael requests of you,” the Emperor told him simply, then turning to Rael said, “You may utilize him as your assistant how you see fit, so long as he isn’t put in significant danger of course.” Rael couldn’t believe how much faith the Emperor seemingly had in him. Where did it come from? This was by far the longest interaction he’d ever had with the ruler of Iaela, so why did he seem to trust a random soldier so much? “I’ll have some furniture and attire made up to suit a human. You are also free to request any accommodations you think you may need,” the Emperor added, already scrawling down notes on a sheet of parchment.

Rael opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He’d gone from disliking humans to being made the guardian of one in a matter of hours. He still wasn’t sure about his opinion on humanity as a whole, but he couldn’t deny the fact that one particular human had penetrated the tough exterior he had built around himself.

Like it or not, Rael cared about Gavin. He never would have spoken up to the Emperor if he hadn’t. As strange and inexplicable as it may be, he needed to accept the reality of the situation. Gavin would be his ward for at least a year. They would be spending a lot of time with each other. Rael couldn’t keep pretending to be indifferent to the tiny man.

~

After being dismissed from the meeting with the Emperor, Gavin had been carried off by Rael, taken to what he could only assume was Rael’s quarters. The entire trip there had been silent, because what the hell was Gavin supposed to say? He was so mentally and emotionally confused at this point that he couldn’t even begin to make sense of anything.

Rael’s room was small and simple; it contained only a bed, side table, and little chest of drawers. On the way in, Gavin had noticed the hallway had been filled with doors, which led him to believe this area was entirely made up of the rooms of soldiers. At least Rael had his own space, the last thing Gavin needed at the moment was to be faced with more alteons.

“Gavin,” Rael spoke up, finally breaking the silence that had stretched out between the two of them. “I know you’re probably not pleased with this arrangement.” Gavin stared up at Rael from where he stood on the bedside table. The giant was sitting on his bed, but of course, he was still looming high over the human. “I...I understand why you would feel that way,” Rael’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, Gavin could hardly believe this was the same person who had yelled at him earlier.

A long sigh blew out from between Gavin’s lips. “I sure hope you’re leading up to an apology here,” he snipped, folding his arms firmly over his chest. He wasn’t going to put up with some indirect expression of regret, nah--that wasn’t going to fly. If Rael wanted his forgiveness, he would have to make an apology as clear and plain as day.

There was no derision or amusement on Rael’s face, just a solemn frown. “Ashryn wanted me to prove myself by...reigning you in,” the alteon explained in a stormy tone. “I was too afraid of harming my reputation to not take the bait.” Clearly Gavin’s assumptions had been right. “But I was wrong...and weak for not standing up to Ashryn. For that, I am sorry.” It was hard to believe Gavin was hearing those words being directed at him from Rael. A few hours ago it would have seemed impossible.

As good as it was to hear the apology, Gavin still felt like there was something Rael wasn’t entirely grasping. “Listen, I know I look pretty tough, but you’ve gotta realize how--how freaky it is when you use your size against me.” Admitting he was afraid wasn’t really something Gavin loved to do, especially considering he was trying to convince alteons that humans weren’t weak little babies, but Rael needed to know the effect his actions had.

The size disparity between the room’s occupants suddenly became even more strikingly apparent. Gavin was standing and Rael was sitting, and yet Rael still absolutely towered over the human. No matter how equal the two may be intellectually, Rael would always have a huge automatic advantage over Gavin--and that was something they would both have to come to adapt to if they were going to be living and working with each other for the foreseeable future.

“Are you afraid of me?” The sudden question stunned Gavin. He wasn’t sure why, because it had always been something in the back of his mind. Maybe it was just shocking hearing Rael ask it so bluntly.

Gavin paused. How was he supposed to answer this? He had definitely had fear inflicted on him by Rael on multiple occasions, but was he really and truly afraid of the guy? Gavin gave a weak shrug. “I don’t really know...I guess sometimes…” Rael gave a tight nod, as if he had been expecting that response. “But other times you’re just a big, awkward dork,” Gavin quickly added.

A very slight smile pulled at the corner of Rael’s lips. “Alright, I’ll promise not to use my size against you anymore, if you can promise not to call me a ‘dork’ again,” he said the words so seriously, and yet the growing grin on the alteon’s face gave him away.

Gavin chuckled. “Fine, but you gotta promise not to give me any weird assistant jobs, like polishing your scabbard or some shit.” He really didn’t know how much someone of his size could really be of use to a giant, but he supposed this arrangement was better than being thrown into a cage.

Rael raised a single dark eyebrow. “Oh, but you’re probably the only one that could actually reach the inside.”

A grumpy frown took shape on Gavin’s face. “Okay, next rule: no size jokes at my expense!”

A warm, genuine laugh escaped from Rael. In a flash the giant man was reaching forward, and before Gavin could dodge backwards, a massive index finger was ruffling his hair, making the already messy locks even more of a disaster. “No promises.”

Gavin let out a long sigh. Somehow he had gone from being a professional thief to the assistant to a gigantic, elf-eared man from another dimension. “At least it’s more exciting than being a damn doctor.”

I was originally gonna make this two parts but I decided to just make it one big chunky final chapter! This story was kind of like the introductory prologue to Gavin and Rael so there's definitely room for more about them in the future if people are interested. I had a ton of fun writing this and totally appreciate all the nice comments and such that I got!

I've got a busy few weeks ahead of me but feel free to send in prompts/commissions for my ocs. I just may take a little while to actually get to them.

[hello-there]

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[petri808]

N1+Inukag Crap! I confessed! @ruddcatha request

Every time Kagome got frustrated at work she reminded herself... it was just a job. Nothing glamorous, it covered her expenses, and allowed her the time she needed to go to school. It wasn’t even that being a waitress was difficult, but instead boring, since she worked the late shift. Between the hours of 10pm and 1am when they finally closed, it was rare to have many customers. Mostly young people on the way to or having left a nightclub, maybe a single grabbing breakfast before an early morning shift.

But there were two definite upsides to working the shift. For starters, all the slow periods gave her time to work on homework or projects. Second, it was peaceful with only one other coworker to deal with. Just her and the sous chef Inuyasha. When she’d first started, they didn’t quite get along. Kagome wasn’t a push over, and Inuyasha... well, he had a chip on his shoulder. The young man was great at his job, so good that the head cook trusted him to do this closing shift all by himself. She was certain Inuyasha preferred it that way, considering he wasn’t a social butterfly.

Over time their odd relationship found its groove and they’d chat if neither had anything left to do. He’d often make them dinner, another minor perk of the job. Best of all, if any of the customers caused problems, Inuyasha was quick to react. Kagome felt safe working in the diner despite the late hours. Because who’d be crazy enough to take on a hanyou? Only a human with a death wish. But she could understand his personality a bit. Hanyou’s were often mistreated. Not full human, not full yokai, and there were still portions of society who saw such unions as an abomination.

Well screw those people! Inuyasha may be rough around the edges, but he’d never made her feel scared or uncomfortable, which was a lot better then some of the losers she knew growing up. On the contrary, she felt safer with him around. So, what if he wasn’t very good at expressing emotions, because it was clear to her he had a good heart. Like cooking them dinner. Kagome never asked him, he always just did it, and at the most opportune times. Sometimes he’d show up at the table where she was hunched over a laptop and would hand her a sugary drink because— she looked like she needed it. Kagome would thank him and he’d reply in his gruff, yeah, don’t mention it, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

The turn around in their working relationship related back to one single incident three months after she’d started working at the diner. It was around midnight when a couple of drunk frat boys stumbled in. First, their shenanigans targeted her with the come-on’s and sexual advances, but as soon as Inuyasha stepped out to confront them, and they started to taunt him about his heritage, Kagome snapped. It was the first time she’d seen such bigotry with her own eyes, the hatred some felt towards his kind. So, she let the men have it! Screaming and cursing, going so far as to grab a broom to kick them out. After the incident, Inuyasha both thanked and berated her for putting herself in harms way like she had, but at least he’d warmed up after it.

That was almost two years ago, and here they were on another slow Tuesday at the diner. Kagome had finished all of her cleaning duties as well as homework, so with nothing left to do, she sat at the counter beside Inuyasha. He’d made them burgers, and she whipped up some milk shakes with one more hour to go before they could close up.

“It’s nights like this that make me question why I’m here,” Inuyasha broke the companionable silence with a sigh. “I mean I like it, but don’t like it.”

Kagome giggled. “I know what you mean. But at least there’s some positives to it.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Well...” she sat back on her stool with her eyes facing the ceiling in contemplation. “The obvious ones are I can manage going to school and my studies without being overwhelmed. The free food is a bonus, course your food is always divine!”

“But sorry the company’s not better, right?” Inuyasha throws in. “I know I’m not someone people like being around.”

“Excuse you!” Kagome turned to him with shock and irritation. “You take that back! Because I happen to love being around you.”

“You do?”

“Why wouldn’t I?!” The annoyed woman countered with defiance flashing in her eyes and logic tossed out the window. “You’re caring, amazing, you make me feel safe, and not to mention you’re easy on the eyes...” Oh shit! That part wasn’t supposed to slip out! The moment those passionate words left her lips, all the blood drained from Kagome’s face. “I-I mean, y-you know, I mean you must realize...”

A cocky smirk lit up Inuyasha’s face. “Easy on the eyes, huh? Tell me, is that what you really think of me?”

What blood had drained from Kagome’s face, rushed back to her cheeks in a rosy glow. “Pfft!” She glared back despite the smile she couldn’t control. “Well what do you expect?! I’m not blind! Yes! Okay, so you’re hot. Happy now?!” She harrumphed and folded her arms over her chest in a huff.

Inuyasha’s eyes lower along with the tone of his voice. “Very, actually. Being complimented by a pretty girl made my day.”

Kagome’s jaw dropped, arm weakened and falling to her sides. She wasn’t sure what stunned her more, his flirty response or the fact he’d called her pretty. A silence fell between them. They’d both admitted to finding the other attractive. So, now what? Kagome knew she’d been fantasizing about him for a while, but his compliment didn’t necessarily mean he was interested in that way too. For all she knew Inuyasha already had a girlfriend and just never mentioned it at work. Crap! She wasn’t supposed to confess like this! Now working together might be awkward considering things had been going so well!

Several minutes dragged on before it was Inuyasha who once again broke the stalemate. He cleared his throat. “So, um. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Kagome’s eyebrow raised but breathing slowed. “No...”

“Do you want one?”

[mckinlily]

.the force

Summary: Learning the ways of the Force is not always an easy process. Sometimes lessons can take years, even lifetimes to master.

Sometimes your master seems to go out of his way to make it worse.

Shiro felt the chaotic stirrings in the Force just before Keith stormed into their shared quarters. 

“You ASSHOLE!”

A faint warning had him snapping his hand up to catch—

A rock?

It was a decently pretty rock, with nice blue and green flecks scattered through it, but overall no more interesting than any other mid-sized pebble they might pick up on a mission.

Keith fumed at Shiro’s shoulder behind the couch, massive waves of fury and irritation flooding off him in Force. So far, all lessons on releasing emotions into the Force had only taught Keith to get better at projecting his feelings, rather than control them.

Ah, well. It was progress. 

Maybe. 

With deliberate casualness, Shiro put down the mission report he had been reviewing and turned to his padawan.

“Hello, Keith. I could have sworn that wasn’t the correct form of address on Coruscant. Or did I miss a memo?”

“Stop being an ass,” snapped Keith.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. Keith just glared back. So this was going to be one of those conversations. Shiro leaned back into the couch.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Keith. Precisely what part of my assery do you want me to stop?” 

Then, recalling he was supposed to be a master and not a fellow padawan, he quickly added, “Ah, not that you should be using that kind of language anyway.”

Keith responded with several words under his breath that made it quite clear he was not taking Shiro’s advice.

Shiro sighed. “Keith. If you have something you want to talk about, I’m here. But for that to work, you’re going to have to actually, you know, talk.”

Keith gave an explosive exhale and flung himself over the back of the couch to land in a sulky sprawl next to Shiro.

Shiro bit back the urge to correct. He still wasn’t certain how to be a Master to a padawan learner—wasn’t even sure he knew how to be a Knight— and Kolivan’s old lectures echoed in his ears. Kolivan wouldn’t have let such impropriety slide. But what his master would have done and what Shiro’s instincts said were constantly at odds, and Shiro just didn’t know which one was right.

This time, his instincts won out. Shiro slumped against the side of the couch, and nudged Keith with the toe of his boot. “What is it.”

Keith shoved Shiro’s foot off the couch and scowled. He pointed at the object in Shiro’s hand. “That’s a rock.”

Shiro double checked that he was, in fact, still holding a rock. He looked back at Keith. “Yes?”

“It’s a kriffing rock!”

This time Shiro ignored the language. “Keith, you’re not giving me much to work with here.”

Keith flung in hands in the air. “It’s from Dazibalb! You said it was special!”

“I...did?”

Keith’s face was getting flushed as he waved his hands about. “Yes!”

“Um…” Shiro examined the innocuous stone in his hand, trying to see how it could be the source of the drama with his padawan.

“I spent a year—a kriffing year!—meditating and researching on it because my master—who is supposed to be TEACHING me—made it seem all important and special. And. It’s Just. A Fucking. ROCK!”

Shiro took a single breath in. Keith was clearly worked up. Shiro was a Jedi Knight and Keith’s master to boot. He needed to react calmly, rationally, with precision and compassion. He let out his breath—

And burst out laughing.

“Shiro!”

“I—aha!—I can’t—”

“Stop it!” Keith grabbed a pillow and started walloping Shiro with it. “It isn’t funny, Shiro!”

“Argh! Keith, get off me—a whole year—”

“Stop laughing, you asshat! I spent MONTHS on this! I went to Master Slav!”

Shiro lost the battle and dissolved into peals of laughter. He could barely breathe through his wheezes while tears gathered on his face.

“I can’t—I can’t—Slav?!”

“I didn’t want to fail!”

Keith’s voice—hardly reliable at the best of times, poor preteen—cracked on that, and Shiro, even crying with laughter, recognized it for what it was. He pushed himself upright, failing (though trying) to force down his laughter.

“I’m not laughing at you.”

Keith pulled back and folded his arms. “Yes, you are,” he sulked.

Shiro choked back another bout of inopportune laughter. “I’m not. It’s just—” A snort slipped out of him, his cheeks hurt—and, nope, he was laughing again. “It’s not you. But your face—”

“Really helping your case there, Shiro,” grumbled Keith, looking away, and damnit, Shiro really needed to pull himself together.

He couldn’t stop the snickering, but he could throw his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders and pull him close. “I adore you,” he promised into Keith’s hair.

Keith still grumbled. “You said—I asked if there was something special, and you said it held the secrets to the Force!”

“I was teasing,” said Shiro, slowly remembering a seemingly meaningless conversation from ages ago. He snorted. “I didn’t expect you to take it seriously.”

“How was I supposed to know that?!” snapped Keith. “You’re my master. You’re supposed to be teaching me, and half this Force stuff doesn’t make sense! You said and—I didn’t know!”

And that, Shiro realized, was the crux of it. The Council hadn’t been happy when Shiro took Keith on as a padawan, claiming he was too emotional and too old, and Keith knew it. He worked hard in his classes, but he was up against classmates who had been studying the Force and the way of the Jedi since they were in diapers. Shiro knew Keith worried. Nevermind that he was a prodigy, insanely powerful, and picked up new Force techniques faster than anyone Shiro had ever seen. Keith felt like he was constantly behind.

“Every padawan has fallen for something like this,” Shiro reassured, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Every. One. Someone started a rumor that the Force comes from little microbes in your body, and that rumor still circulates the creche to freak out Initiates all the time. It happens for everyone.”

Keith huffed. “You didn’t have to laugh at me.” He sounded annoyed, but hurt burnished his presence about the Force. 

“I’m sorry,” said Shiro earnestly. Keith’s outrage was funny but not his hurt. “Keith, I would never intentionally make you feel or look stupid.”

Keith flung his arms out. “I don’t know anything! Everyone knows all this stuff, and I don’t know any of it! I’m supposed to be a padawan.”

“You are a padawan,” said Shiro, tugging on Keith’s padawan braid to emphasise the point. “It doesn’t matter what everyone else knows. You’re a padawan learner. The point is to learn, which you’re doing. Where everyone else is doesn’t matter.”

“Younglings know more than me,” grumbled Keith.

“What did I just say?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Stupid Jedi crap. It’s easy to say when you’re not the one people are calling a non-sensitive in class.”

Shiro snorted. Hard. 

“Not at you,” he said to Keith quickly, shaking his head and smashing down dangerous fury that threatened at the mistreatment of his padawan. He snorted again. “If your classmates can’t tell how strong you are in the Force, maybe they are the ones who are non-sensitive.”

Keith slumped, somewhat pacified but still unconvinced. 

“You know, Master Yoda didn’t even talk until he was fifty years old. His species ages so slowly most of his clan had already become Masters before he even left the Creche.”

“But he’s Yoda,” protested Keith.

“And how do you know that in ten years, someone won’t be saying the same thing about you?” challenged Shiro. “You’re already one of the best pilots in the Order, and you’re not even a senior padawan yet. You might feel like you’re struggling to catch up now, but I guarantee that before long, all of us will be fighting to keep up with you.”

Keith snorted. “Sure, Shiro.”

“You’ll see,” said Shiro, his nose in the air. “I’m right.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” And Shiro let him have that. They wouldn’t break through all of Keith’s issues in a day. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Did you really spend months researching?”

Keith slumped into the couch. “I didn’t want you to think I failed you,” he muttered to the floor.

Shiro’s heart trembled and melted. It was deeply humbling to realize how seriously Keith had taken his offhand remark. And a little terrifying. His padawan trusted him so completely, and he—he wasn’t even sure he deserved his rank of Knight. 

(How did one go about being a master? How did he be a master when he couldn’t even go to his own master for help? When he couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t been Knighted merely because no one had wanted to finish his own training?)

((No one had wanted to train Keith, either, he remembered. Shiro was determined to make sure his padawan never grew up with the same doubts.))

“Did you keep your research?”

Keith looked at him with narrow-eyed suspicion. “Why?”

“I figure if you put in all the work, you might as well get something out of it,” shrugged Shiro. “I bet we could put together a good case for an independent study. Free up your time for more advanced piloting classes.”

Keith’s eyes slowly lit up. “You mean it?”

“Of course, kiddo,” said Shiro. “I didn’t mean to send you on a wild goose chase.”

Keith huffed. Shiro squeezed his shoulders.

“I promise. I’ll be more careful about my teasing. And when I set you a task, I’ll make sure you know it’s an assignment. None of this vague hint stuff.”

Keith grumbled under his breath, but relief whafted off of him in the Force. Shiro really didn’t understand how so many in the Temple described his padawan as unreadable. Keith projected everything. Loudly. If only you took the time to listen.

Shiro tugged on Keith’s padawan braid again. “We good?”

Keith flopped grumpily against Shiro’s side. “You’re the worst,” he said, though the pulse he sent through their training bond didn’t back it up.

“I really am sorry,” said Shiro.

Keith squirmed against his side. “I just feel so dumb,” he admitted in a low mumble. “Anyone else would have known it was just a rock.”

“Well…” Shiro held up the rock, running his senses over it. It had certainly started as an ordinary rock, but things that were in close contact with the Jedi rarely stayed that way for long. Shiro could feel the vague impression of Keith in it, his loyalty and passion, all wrapped up in his fierce determination. Shiro concentrated on the rock as well, focusing on what he felt for Keith, his pride and joy in his padawan, and pushing that into the Force.

When he finished, the sense wasn’t as strong as he would have liked it—Shiro wasn’t very practiced in Force Impressions—but it was there.

“Here,” he said, passing the rock back to Keith. Keith took it somewhat suspiciously, and Shiro felt him prod hestistantly at it in the Force.

“Oh. Huh.” Keith looked up at Shiro, clearly looking for a confirmation that what he was feeling was real.

“Maybe it didn’t start out special,” said Shiro. “But it certainly is now.” He took a chance and ruffled Keith’s hair. “Just like you.”

“Argh!” Keith batted his hand away. “What are you so sappy?”

“Excuse you, I am genuine, charming, and eloquent.”

Keith frowned at him. Then, taking Shiro completely by surprise, he shoved him with the Force, knocking him off the couch and sending him sprawling on the floor.

“Ooof. This is how you repay me?” groaned Shiro from the ground. 

“Yep.” Keith preened, unrepentant from his position on the couch. Shiro took a moment to appreciate how far he’d come from the bitter, scared slave he had been when they first met. Smug and triumphant was a good look on him. 

“All right.” Shiro accepted defeat. “Pass me my datapad. I need to finish that mission report.”

“Your—What? You’re going to work from the floor?”

“Yep,” said Shiro, not even bothering to sit up.

“You are so weird,” concluded Keith, but a second later Shiro’s datapad was dropping onto his face and he snatched it out of the air. 

“Thanks,” said Shiro. He started scrolling through his notes, trying to find where he left off. 

“You’re the strangest master in the Order,” said Keith.

Shiro looked up from his datapad. “Would you rather the Council reassign you a different master?” he said hesitantly, trying to hide how the possibility cut him.

But Keith quickly shook his head. “No. I’ll stick with what I’ve got.”

“Me too,” said Shiro, quietly hiding his relief. “I wouldn’t trade you for any other padawan out there. Not for the entire galaxy.”

“Good,” said Keith. 

But still, the bond between them seemed to hum just a little warmer and stronger after that. 

[anyu-blue]

So a friendship ended... But luckily in this case it's absence leaves room for better things to grow.

I was rambling in the tags of my previous reblog, but yeah...

'friend' decided that Empathy and Sympathy mean the same thing, that I am not, in fact, an empath/able to put myself in others' shoes/sometimes unwilling pulled or made to feel things against my will (experience things that aren't may own), that NO ONE could feel what he feels or know what he's going through, that I have a messiah complex, that he 100% wants something (that I, being me, cannot/will not provide), and that families and friends cannot possible hold one another accountable/truly be honest with each other.

I have tried very hard for months to be patient with this man. Tried very hard to be a good friend and more. Tried very hard to give him the benefit of the doubt too. But, well, he isn't worth my time and effort I've decided.

Maybe I'm wrong in that I'm an empath and I've just got another form of psychosis. I fully admitted it was a possibility... But I was honestly helped by people being willing and able to kindly explain how they could put themselves into my shoes almost perfectly and WERE me at one point- with all my experiences and feelings... Not with the same names and faces of course, but knowing my experiences aren't so unique and I wasn't so alone as I thought was such a comfort to me. And it certainly feels like I can do the same that they were describing of being in others' shoes.. and that sometimes too it's involuntary..

Of course I was a stubborn teenager at the time I was being told all of this and going through that teenagery 'you don't know what it's like!!' stage... But I learned. I was able to step back and take stock when my hormones weren't flying all over the place (made worse by an undiagnosed hormone disorder at the time (woo nonbinary body!), but I still managed with help and good role models)... I'm sad my former friend never got that and can't clearly draw understanding of stuff like that. He's into his 30s so, well.. it's harder. I get that. In a few years almost on the dot I'll be 30 myself. I know how much harder some of this stuff is now that I'm very much an adult vs when I was a teen.

According to him though... Yes. Empathy and Sympathy are the same thing. Completely overlooking that Sympathy is having a common feeling and being able to feel sorry for someone... And empathy is SHARING a feeling and being able to experience/feel what it is that's being gone through- not just feel sorry (And I'm explaining it this way because he pulled up Definition number two of Sympathy and Definition one of empathy from google and demanded to know how they were different- common vs sharing is definitely a key difference in those Definitions... And Empathy's specified it was an ability on top of that so... Hmm). I wasn't there for that type of ignorance.

Next is the idea that his experience is SO unique I couldn't possibly understand and then his demand of me to explain how he felt if I 'thought I could'. Okay, first of all it's is heckin' RUDE to demand your friends explain how they could 'possibly know' how/why you're bothered by Something... But I did try- after telling him I wanted an apology for him being so rude as to demand that... he half apologised and mostly went into detail about his woeful feelings.... And yet when I told him I made my reply/explanation much earlier in the day and copy/pasted it to our chat from my Docs (which, to be fair, matched what he said incredibly well) he told me that I was 'just regurgitating' what he told me about how he felt. Um... You asked me how you felt and then I told you what it feels like to go through what you're going through and why it's so bothersome (because I've BEEN there myself?)... Only for you to tell me I don't understand and I'm just echoing you rather than feeling anything? Um?? Empathy is FEELING what YOU feel??? Hello??? And you asked me to describe it??? WTF? I wasn't there for THAT either.

And then he had the idea to accuse me of having a messiah complex (because he 'had one too when [he] was younger and had to learn People weren't worth saving'). Okay. I didn't 100% get what that was/didn't entirely trust my gut feeling on the Google Definition... So what did I do? I googled it. And then I asked my sister (without context) if she thought the description matched me before I replied. According to Google and my sister and the rest of my family... I do not have a messiah complex. Not the first Definition of believing to have some calling or right to heal people, nor the second Definition of believing to be responsible for helping people... As I told him I only offer bits and pieces of advice and different outlooks on the same situation because I am trying to be a good friend. Sure I HOPE it'll be helpful or someone might gain Something from it- but I'm not Sharing because I BELIEVE it will solve the problem or that I'm responsible for fixing someone (I know the line is fine and blurry, but I s2g caring for a friend by sharing stuff and believing you HAVE to help someone are TOTALLY different things)... People sharing their experiences and what works for them to help them not be so miserable is what has helped me throughout my life... it's a mark of my best friends. And I truly don't understand some social cues of how sometimes sharing advice or ideas or memories even ISN'T needed, wanted, or helpful... Obviously. (Because I'm clearly neurodivergent- uh, hello?! Can't 100% help it but trying my hardest?!)....

But according to him... I'm just blind and needed to be knocked down a few pegs rather than thinking I'm so great and could possibly understand him/anyone else... Okay. Not here for that.

I admitted to him that sure... Some of my own experiences bleed into empathetic episodes. It happens!! Like when he's told me multiple times that he's been left out with his family (no one shares information or events beyond what's ABSOLUTELY REQUIRED with him- won't tell him a family member is dying but will talk about Christmas sort of deal) and is a black sheep (different political/life views and feelings of only being tolerated) the ways he has... I put my own experiences of being neglected/abandoned into that. He swears he had always been loved and never felt alone/mistreated by his family (even though he's the one who described these things and Is partially why the feelings of abandonment popped up as I went into his shoes more or less-- but hey. Mistakes happen as do unintentional bleeds. I get that it's not perfect because ultimately I'm still me even when experiencing others. I can and will admit to skewing some things like so on accident if it's true.. but I refuse to believe I understand absolutely nothing at all when we are ALL human and typically have emotions and certain reactions to certain things. Most of us REALLY aren't THAT unique!! Sorry.. it's extremely true based on science's understanding/research anyway).

One of the last things he said to me after accusing me of the messiah complex was he just wants me to 'listen and agree' with him about stuff instead of telling him about my/other ways of looking at things, telling him he's off the mark, or trying to help with the misery.... When previously (and over and over and over) having demanded my absolute honesty and having said he appreciates what I do.... I will not lie to him and say he's right in what he's doing or does with a given situation if he's wrong or looking at it through a lens. Duh. That's 'bad' friend stuff. And sure I can listen no problem!! IF I am told outright/first that what he's saying is JUST a vent and not supposed to be a conversation at all. I've mentioned I need that sort of thing!! If it's just a vent, tell me!!! I'll stfu and listen knowing that... But I'm SORRY I CANNOT just outright TELL. It's not a skill I have!! I HAVE been attempting to get better at it... But anyone can tell you text is especially HARD. Especially when we DO have a conversation about it? A back and forth? And you NEVER once say 'i don't want your take. I just want you to listen.' Even my own sisters and I have to stop ourselves and go... Hey... I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm just venting. And then everything gets so much easier!!! And if we can open with that- 'hey, can I vent to you?' OMFGGGGGGGG it's SO much EASIER!!!

... and yet still.. following that... I am INCREDIBLY LUCKY... Because in venting or in sharing and asking for advice and more... MY family is made up of the type of people who can step back and be unbiased!!! And we can stop each other and TELL each other if we are, in fact, fucking up!!! I mean sure... There's always going to be that love and desire for better for one another... Be ALL of us are under the impression that sometimes the people we love are WRONG and sometimes they are BAD no matter how much we don't want them to be.. and it's far kinder to be honest and take the 'right' side than to give each other all the quarters we want. We cannot learn and/or grow if we cannot hold each other accountable... And Sharing experiences and saying why is designed to be a kindness no matter if it actually helps them or not.. But guess what my 'friend' thought of that? ROFL I was obviously under the incorrect impression and my family will always take MY side simply because I'm family...

In the end...

I do NOT need a 'friend' like that. Who questions everything I do, demands more of me/everyone than I/anyone can provide, who cannot and will not learn or be open to learn in any form, and who takes - dude, you're pissing me off. Fuck off for the night and maybe we can talk again in the morning once we've both gotten sleep- as a 'challenge' to prove this that or the other thing and attack their friend... What the ever loving FUCK is WRONG with you?!

... if you want to know what started this whole thing... He was complaining that none of his friends 'will' hang out with him anymore. Totally understandable to feel awful and lonely (and everything I described to him that he demanded I do)...

But he kept taking it father saying people always changed their schedules on purpose or clearly had nothing else going on in their lives but avoided him anyway and stuff like that... And I dared to question and suggest that some of us DO have good reasons for canceling and not spending the time he wants/needs... That some of us have offered compromises that have never been enough but we still try and SOMETIMES life really DOES just get in the way!!! Like my being sick all the time!! I don't WANT to stay cooped up in my house every day fearing even a passing cold will knock me off my feet!! But dude!! I HAVE to!! And People don't USUALLY demand schedule changes!! It usually kinda gets thrust upon them!! Hello??? Don't we live in america where that's WIDELY KNOWN?! Where sometimes people CAN'T take what little spare time they have and spend it on YOU?? ESPECIALLY during a PANDEMIC and other big changes??? That sometimes that time NEEDS to be taken up with simple pleasures like a single player game in their own home?! Don't People USUALLY have reasons for their habits too? Prerogatives/needs that they don't or can't share with others during those habits because MAYBE it's what they need and you just happen not to be a part of it but could be if you actually ASKED what was going on?! Or idk... LISTENED to what they're telling you about WHY-- especially when you yourself admit you are the ODD one who needs other people physically around to recharge (where most other people don't/only get more exhausted)?!

In the end... I did tell him that sure... If he's treating his other friends like this (which clearly he was treating me pretty darn awfully) then maybe YEAH some of them do it on purpose. We already know how younger brother (my ex) does and that he's not exactly shy about that. Friends may do it on purpose eventually- especially if he's treating People awfully and accusing them of doing it on purpose when they DON'T have control over it... Maybe they WILL migrate to doing it on purpose because of the accusations and inability to make him believe life is just messy sometimes!! But they don't want to lose an occasionally really great friend (because good or bad losing a friend is HARD on the mind and body) and/or don't see how manipulated they are?

In which case... He deserves it. Just like he deserved my wrath (at least in part- I was told I took it a bit too far in that I didn't block him sooner. I did make that mistake for sure XP) when he decided to be so fucking rude to me and then piss all over my efforts to try and be what constitutes a good friend.

Fuck you, dude. You're clearly not worth my time.

And of course the very very last word he had was 'you deserve better friends than I am right now.'

Which, while true and would have been sweet, is something I know (and he has admitted to in the past) is a 'feel sorry for me' tactic. It's not 100% true remorse any more than 'oh no I fucked up and don't want to deal with the consequences of my fucking up, maybe this will get them to feel sorry and let me do it again/get away with it.' I've used it too and understand the tactic all too well. So again I say and know he's not worth my damn time.

Without him in that space of my life... I have more room for others and especially more for myself. I don't need that toxicity. I've been that person too and I know it. I still have my days. And yet it's still okay and good I've walked away.

Fuck you, dude. You're clearly not a friend for me.

[spacegaywritings]

Communication of Silence - Chapter 11 Spi(c)es

Logan and Virgil are at work together but have different shifts at the library. Virgil gets to leave earlier and grabs some food with Remy. Roman makes interesting discoveries and does not know what to feel about it but he is sure Virgil is shadier than he lets on at first glance.

TW: food mentions/eating, working, watching other people, therapy talks, implications of insomnia/ED etc, Roman being a bit radical and protective, slightly stalkerish? and creepy roman, Virgil being shady af (aka dealing drugs, implied)

Tell me if you need me to tag any more than this!

Virgil uses he/they pronouns (for the day) in that chapter so the pronoun use is split for a reason. Yes, they do that for a reason. Just read on, it should be a topic later ao3 link *clicky* read under the cut:

A yawn could be heard and Virgil rubbed the sleepy tears from his eyes. Work was almost over for him and he had barely gotten any sleep after whatever this shitty thing had been with Logan.

The nerd was in the break room working on some project for one of his classes while Virgil had to take the front desk. One of their colleagues had just arrived and was getting ready in the back so they would be able to take Virgil’s part.

Only a few more minutes and Virgil would be on his way to leave. Today was one of the rare days during which he could not even relax with the smell of books surrounding him. A book on folklores from all over the globe was on his lap but he had not bothered turning the page in a long time. By now, it was more decoration than anything else. It was a comforting weight on top of that.

Another yawn caught him and he squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth for he was in public and attempted to maintain proper behaviour. However, it did not seem to be enough for some people.

“Dear gosh, this is so rude! Do you greet every costumer like that?”

Ah, that sound. It was the all too familiar noise of annoyance embodied by an actual person. He would have wished to call her a boomer but she was not. She looked like a woman in her uh.... late 30s, maybe fourties. Someone who decided to re-evaluate her life and start studying again even though it was lat. Nothing wrong with that but some people forgot that this was literally a bunch of tired student helping over tired students during the phase of upcoming deadlines for finals, assignments and other kinds of projects.

And there was a slender woman. Taller than him, rather fair skinned in nature but seemingly tanned by artificial help. Wasn’t tan actual damage to the skin? Why would that look healthy to anyone? Society was so weird and he was sure Logan had taught him that shit when they compared their skin colours at some point when working together on putting books into their respective places. (Nobody thought it was fair that Virgil would not put books away since he was small and he did not mean getting some help if it meant not sitting at the help desk and interact with people who smelled of desperation or entitlement at worst.) Virgil barely got to forcefully shut his own jaw and stop the yawn. Uncomfortable.

The woman was already ranting. For the sake of it, the emo just named her Karen. If he had to deal with her, he might as well try to mentally make it a bit more humorous.

He leaned back. On the outside, he seemed okay, awfully calm and probably just sleepy. The woman seemed to hate it and her head was already red as she demanded some book. He could not even ask which one it was because she rapidly blabbered herself into rage.

Did she even want help?

“Um, like.. What do you want?”

Karen had taken one moment to breathe in and Virgil was quick to slip a bookmark between the pages he had long given up on. He had spoken now and taken the wind out of her sails.

Her glossy, empty cans of eyes stared into him without any sense of understanding.

“Excuse me?”

Virgil supported his arm on his elbow and let his chin rest on his outstretched palm. He was not made for costumer interaction. Was it even a costumer? He did not exactly get money from them unless they had to pay overdue loan fees for keeping books for too long.

“I asked you what you want. You kinda talked for like”, he moved his left hand in a circle as if to show that it was an estimate rather than an actual calculation, “two minutes or something.” He shrugged. “Keep it short, it is 2 in the afternoon and I have no attention span for people yelling at me in a library.”

His voice sharpened at the end as to give an extra emphasis to the word library because it was a place of being silent. She was anything but silent.

The woman let out an unholy shriek and her angry eyes narrowed as she tried to eat his poor unfortunate soul.

“You are not listening to me and then you even dare to be this rude to me, a costumer? The costumer is always right and you suck at your job! If you keep up your shitty attitude, I will tell your manager and get you fired.”

Virgil sighed.

“I still do not know what you want. Do you want to return a book, request the library to get a special book or do you want to loan anything? Do you need help finding a book? You know, there is a computer that does not talk back at you, if you want to try with that.”

He pointed towards a row of computers, some of them having special signs to indicate that they were without internet access but only served as means to navigate around the library and find certain books.

Somehow, that must have been the most offensive couple of words ever used around the woman. She seemed to puff up in anger, her hair curling a bit and her face tinting a reddish shade.

“How dare you! You are being so rude! I thought student knew better than to disrespect their elders!”

She went on saying that she wanted to see his manager, had never been mistreated like this before and found it to be an “audacity” to be disregarded like that. Suddenly she started dashing out claims of having been insulted and discriminated against.

Virgil sighed and checked the clock. Yeah, two minutes. It was time to go and he was sure Tiara was gonna be there any second now. He rose to his feet and picked up his bag.

“Where are you going, young man?”

Ugh.. that card... He barely spared her a glance and pocketed his book.

“My shift is over and you are my colleague’s problem now.”

The small student put his bag on and blinked at her before he left his desk. His sass sparked the explosion.

“I want to speak to your manager right now! I am going to get your little ass kicked you stupid -”

She never got around to finishing this sentence but he was sure she was going to say something racist, funnily enough. But glory had it, someone behind her cleared his throat and adjusted his sunglasses.

“Ma’am”, the taller man spoke. He was probably taller because of his hair standing up.

“I am the manager and I am afraid I need you to leave. If you resist, I will ban you from this location and inform campus security about your disturbing presence.”

The woman turned around. Upon seeing the man in a leather jacket and sunglasses, she frowned.

“You are the manager?”

Her words sounded like the hiss of a snake that just met their worst enemy. Eyes narrowed, she focused on the slightly smaller man than him who just nodded towards Virgil.

“Ma’am, I asked you to leave the property. Virgil, I think you need to inform security and help this lady out”, he started and leaned in a bit, his voice just turning a bit sharper than his words already were. “Tell them to inform the police for resistance.”

By now, her head was redder than a glowing fire. She was smoking about as much. Virgil tried to look as nonchalant as ever when he picked up the phone, face unbiased as if he had never picked a side in his life.

The woman let out another screech of fury. It sounded a bit like an angry Chihuahua, ready to eat your fingercap off your hand without hesitation. She was dead serious but so was the manager. Virgil started dialing and clicked his tongue, his dark eyes looking past her raging form.

When he opened his mouth, she stomped her foot and hurried off, he gloomy eyes shooting daggers at the leather-clad man for another moment before she stomped through the library and back outside again.

Virgil immediately dropped the phone and put everything away, his hands rushed as if he was handling hot potatoes.

“Fuckfuckfuck, what if she gets me fired!?”

He ran his hands through his hair, calming the heat and dissipating the energy in his sudden kick of anxiety. The man with the sunglasses walked over and pouted at him.

“Really, you are going to panic before you even greet me? I expected better from you”, he whined and stretched out his arms to take Virgil’s bag. “That bitch cannot do shit and she totally believed I am the manager. Did you see her panic when I mentioned the police? I fucking broker her, like, TBH she will not come back when you are around again.”

His shoulders flexed under the black fabric of his heavy jacket. Eyes rolled under his sunglasses that he wore despite the rather cozy dimness within the building. Outside, it was cloudy and horridly white but there was no sun to illuminate the day. Still, looking up into the sky would hurt worse than looking into the warmth of the sun for just a moment.

“Come on, you don’t need that job anyway and you can get other jobs if she really gets through with this”, he nudged the other who just looked up at him, eyes swollen in worry and decidedly looking at the other, then past him. He made the impression there was something to look out for. “Also, I fucking killed that performance. I want a bit of recognition here.”

He sing-sang his latter sentence, the words and notes wrapping around Virgil and softly pushing him closer to the taller person.

The emo caved.

“Ri, I swear you are going to be the death of me.”

He stepped into the other and just threw his hands around him.

“Whatever the fuck. You are right or whatever. I don’t care. Fuck work, fuck Karen.”

Virgil nudged Remy’s shoulder and started walking towards the exit.

“Karen? That was her name? You know why she was here? Did she come before? She sounded gosh-fucking-awful.”

The younger of the two chuckled and walked them out.

“Do I need to teach you memes, too? Am I obligated to explain every bit of Gen Z culture to you?”

The taller one inhaled the air in offence, one hand on his chest as he slowly craned his head to look at Virgil, his mouth agape in utter shock at the rude betrayal. He got as far as to slide his shades up to his head where it rested in his dark brown hair.

“Gurl, did you just fucking straight up and murder me after I saved your ass from that suburban super mom-monster?”

The student pushed the door open for them and took the time to shoot Remy an arrogant glare.

“Thank you, oh holy knight but I do not need to be saved by some random dude. Believe it or not, I would have handled that. It is the end of my shift and I was about to stall for time.”

Remy shook his head. Before he could try and bite back another comment, Virgil was already speaking again.

“Anyway, your performance did NOT suck, so I guess you are still allowed to call yourself a thespian or actress or whatever you wanna use... “, his voice dropped from high amusement down to sincere interest, “do you feel the actor today? Or, like, just Remy?”

The actor hugged Virgil’s side and blinked slowly as they walked back to his office.

“I am gonna be your brother today. What about you? Are you feeling a sister in you? A sibling or are you my brother as usual?”

This time, he stretched out his hands to open the door.

“Uh.. I mean, .. “, the other started but broke off as he quickly ducked down and walked into the office without missing another beat. Once inside, he shrugged and sat down onto the less cluttered side of Remy’s highly professional desk. “I dunno, man. I am just a thing, I guess”

Remy nodded and gave his sibling their things.

“Ah, alright, thank you for these clear words, Misc “I can stand up for myself” Lee.”

The other reacted with nothing more than a scoff.

“Whatever, just get lunch with me. Any suggestions?”

They pulled out their phone and started typing away on it, pulling up the email app he needed to compute a text to his therapist. If he was lucky, he would get some dismissed appointment and during winter time, maybe he was actually that lucky.

“I talked to your boyfriend, you know”, Remy started and Virgil waved him off.

“I am literally messaging her right now, can you calm down? I am about to go eat with you and you can take a picture if that makes you happy. Don’t get on my ass, I am.. I am trying..”

Virgil sighed and pressed “send” without reading over it or adding these funky “sincerely, yours” words and all that shit. They were not exactly in the mood to discuss the whole thing again. Their mood was already sore enough from everything that had happened before.

“Then she probably told you that I am okay and panicked enough over that. I am trying, okay? Just leave me be and get stupid food with me.” They sighed and threw their phone over. “Please.”

Remy caught the flying device with coordinated hands and skilled fingers. With one simple motion, he fastened his grip around the phone and glared back at Virgil.

“Don’t throw your shit, kid”, he warned them but did not intend to go any further than this. His eyes glanced over the shiny display. With how they used their things and just threw them around, it was a miracle this thing was still intact - at least from what it looked like on the outside. Then again, water damage was more likely than cracking the display, seeing that Virgil was almost constantly on their phone and texting him or other people.

The display was shining brightly into Remy’s face in the unlit office of his.

“Why do you need to have such a high brightness when you work in a library?”

Remy sighed and squinted before letting his shades return to the bridge of his nose. The tinted glasses did their job in making sight a bit more bearable and less painful. It was almost as if looking at bright things did not make his eyes sting dully and his head contract in pain.

In front of his eyes was a white bunch of nothing and some meek, black letters. An email to Virgil’s therapist. Well, it was not the therapist directly but it was the receptionist who was to plan and manage their therapist’s schedule.

“The library is not a dark cave, stop pretending the world is as dark as it looks from watching it through your dumb shades”, Virgil shot back casually as they fidgeted with their hands, fingers pushing together for no reason and curling up together. If they were longer, they would definitely get tied up like wild, cooked noodles. “Also, I am literally sitting right underneath a bigass lamp at the front desk. The shelves are a bit better when you are in the section with that fuckton of heavy books nobody wants to touch unless they are forced to.”

Ah, yes.

“You don’t have to show me. You are an adult and I trust you to do the right thing.”

They scoffed but left the comment unreviewed safe for a quick glance at Remy over their brow for less than a split moment. He almost thought it was nothing but imagined because he would expect them to do that.

The smaller of the two took their phone back and scrolled through it. Their fingers seemed a bit more at rest but they still rubbed over the display as if an apocalypse of message had just exploded in their notification feed. For sure, it was unlikely to get so many messages at once but Remy did not mind the quirks too much.

“Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”

The student finally put their phone aside and let their nickname for Remy be stretched longer than wet and sugary sweet gum for kids. The one you would use to make really big bubbles before popping them in one wet and lazy sound. Feet swung forward and fell back against the side of the desk with a dull ‘clung’.

The addressed person angled his shades. His eyes were spitting salt at the other.

“Bitch, now you are going all sweet on me -”

“I will get food without you, hoe, I just want to get it done, come ooooon!”

He could not exactly argue with that. Considering Virgil sucked at eating food, at least they seemed to get this issue together around Remy. Possibly, their body just registered that being around him meant eating anyway so there was no faking it away and skipping meals and missing carbs and minerals.

It felt funny to think about it in this way. Honestly, he would not mind it if it was that way. At least then Virgil at properly at regularly.

But threatening to throw off their lunch tradition? Unbelievable.

Virgil took a threatening step down and stood by their words. They were getting their bag.

“If ya don’t hurry, I can get you something - preferences? Disgusting food? Fake Asian food fusion imitation? Weird fruits? Vegan healthy smoothie shit?”

Remy clicked his tongue but held up his hand for a moment to signal his need of time. Then he bent over to get his purse.

“Shut up, it is my treat. I might have eaten your job after all.”

The professor clicked a turn into the ground with his vocal heels and strove for the exit of his office. Virgil was quick to follow behind. When he opened the door and closed it again, he did not notice Roman just a bit away, on the staircase. He had come to find Professor Archimeda after all.

***

”Got it all?”

Virgil’s eyes rolled behind Remy, nearly turning back into the back of their head but they stayed put - as loyal and reliable as always.

“Yeah, just fucking chill for one moment in your existence”

They trailed behind him with the bags of food in their annoyed hands. Remy kept turning around to look at them, checking whether they were there, whether the food was there.

“Like you have to be talking, honestly”

Remy’s voice was so flat, it could barely be taken as more than a joke despite it being drier than any sand-dominated desert could ever be. Virgil snorted at the familiar salty flavour of his response.

“I am not going to disappear and neither is the food, seriously, I mean, you can hear me walking behind you. It is not that much of a big deal. I am just carrying the bags, calm your protective instincts, princess.”

The professor wanted to award that comment with a snarky glare but found his shades to be in the way as always. The brightly lit hallway had the stinging LEDs that would tear into his brain if he dared to even as much as consider taking off his shades and he had done this mistakes enough already.

Sweet relief was nothing compared to the satisfaction of reaching his office once more and finally opening the door to allow the unlit room to swallow them into the dim atmosphere of his beloved office.

“Finally”, the professor announced, clutching his tea tighter and kicking the door shut without glory nor car. One might have thought he just finished a whole day of work and extra chores but no, the dude just felt the pain of migraines and rubbed his temples as soon as he crashed into his chair and got to put his tea down.

On the other side of the desk, Virgil put the food down and looked at his miserable brother.

“You know what?”

Remy sighed and slowly brought his lips to his stupid straw. It was one of these funky things that was made of biodegradable something. No idea what it was but it was something and it was not paper, probably. It kinda felt different but yeah, whatever.

He sipped his tea. Decaffeinated cinnamon winter whatever tea. It was as spicy as the tea around the theatre department. Which was pretty much a lot. To indicate his attention, one of his eyebrows rose and Remy craned his neck a bit to lean towards Virgil who just got around to opening a window yet pull the curtains shut so it would continue to be dark and private. As always.

“You look like a VSCO girl”, Virgil stated with tired eyes as he moved his chair closer to the suffering blob of leather and black. “I am kinda disappointed I noticed only know but you really really do look like one and I actually think you might be the bitch of all VSCO girls. Like, the superior boss bitch.”

Remy snorted his tea back into his straw and decided to stop hugging it and just put it back onto his desk again. Tea spilled everywhere. His pants, his jacket, a bit of floor and a whole bunch of Remy face got a big load the gulp he had meant to swallow rather than spontaneously blow back into his straw (which did not have the capacity to take it all in.

Yeah, he should have never touched it after getting into the chair…. The feeling of drinking just made the migraines a little less worse most of the time. No, before and after was just as miserable. Fuck hydration. But drinking? Drinking was the cure for migraine pains for some weird, magical reason.

At least to him.

He smacked his lips and clicked his tongue. Another sigh flew from his lips as Virgil curled into a ball of laughter at the horrible image before him. It was too good not to. Remy’s lips were slightly apart as he seemed to growl the tea away from him with intimidation skills he definitely did not have on tea.

He looked.. genuinely offended at the liquid for deciding to do any of this to him and jut ruin his jacket.

“Fuck you, Virgil, just fuck you, little hate crab.”

The professor got up and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders. At least it had time to dry before lunch was over.

“You know, you could be helpful and give me something to, like, help and stuff.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at Virgil who finally uncurled but was still grinning as they reached for the napkins and gave them to their sibling.

“Alright, princess”, Virgil commented with a smirk in their voice.

The professor rolled his eyes but refused to thank him. He patted his jacket dry but accepted the loss on his clothing. It was not much, it was not really wet or anything, just damp - if any.

Remy put his jacket over the chair and settled back into his seat.

“Just hand over the food”, he muttered in defeat and Virgil seemed to comply.

They distributed the food by giving Remy some of the boxes and just push some of his stuff aside so the desk was providing some more space for them to clutter it in food items. Not to be a bitch but this was his food space now.

“Mind me, Ri”, Virgil warned before he rose his knees as a first gesture. Remy took the hint and kindly turned his chair a bit so his sibling could access his lap properly. Their feet settled on his lap and got out some bamboo cutlery.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Virgil smiled and put the cutlery between them before he started opening basically any bit of food. No box was left closed (safe for the ones in the bags, still. They were to be spared for another few minutes until it was time for them).

The next minutes were just spent with the two starting to eat, Virgil picking a playlist of Queen songs to play in the background so Remy would be a bit happier with them.

“Hey”, Virgil mumbled and grabbed their bag. Remy hummed in acknowledgment.

“Got some more trash for you and you bet you will love it~”

Virgil whispered and moved their legs so they could pull Remy’s chair closer to him. Because OF COURSE this was an office chair with wheels and movement.This was an office and this was Remy and he would definitely have these kinds of things. The student reached into their bag and handed Remy a little brown bag. It looked like one of these lunch bags.

“Yeah, so, you know.. Met my friend again and they made you something.” They shrugged, deposing the bag in Remy’s lap, right between his feet.

“Well, this just perfect here”, he commented with a sly smile but he took the bag anyway and put it away carefully. “Thank you. How much?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Just hand me those fucking honey batches, Ri, I am gonna eat them all on my own and we are even.”

Remy did not try to argue with that and silently shoved the box of dessert over to the other. They did not do much more. The rest of their lunch break was filled with some jokes and Virgil eating about as much as two people would. The two would cuddle and talk until time came for the professor to pack up and get ready to be a good teacher for his acting classes.

They parted with a warming hug right before the door, still in the safety of the dimly-lit office. Remy leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head.

”You take care of yourself. See you later - tomorrow? You can sleep at my place if you want to. You look like you need it.”

He touched the darkened circles under their slightly swollen eyes. They looked a bit puffy as is from crying but it was so usual, Remy barely noticed it - that is how they met after all. It was not out of the ordinary. Sadly, that was exactly the point. Insomnia should not be the new normal (especially for a growing zygote like Virgil).

They just shrugged their shoulders.

“Yeah.. I mean, maybe, I guess. I w-”, they started but a notification sound interrupted them.

The emo pulled out their phone and unlocked it with practiced movements, barely looking at the display at all. Once unlocked, they checked for messages.

“Well, time for me to go get some stupid therapy - I mean.. get therapy. You know.. whatever. I gotta get going or I will be late. I uh..” They stopped and shuffled their feet a bit, black boots clacking together. “I will text you, I guess? Thanks for the food and the...um, all the stuff..”

Remy shrugged and nudged them, warmth quickly seeping into their shoulder. He gave the student a genuine smile, even his eyes were radiating warmth.

“No problem. Now go before any of us is going to be late, Virg.”

The smaller of the two flinched as if hit by the realisation that time was still a and they, in fact, were on a clock to get to their spontaneous appointment. They quickly jumped into another hug before dashing out of the door and disappearing down the hallway with quick steps.

Their feet were walking fast until they picked up further so they would run as the storm, dark jacket flaring out and making them look like an actual storm cloud. Their steps echoing through the halls were the thunder rolling in the sky and scaring your eardrums.

Remy smiled after the figuring shrinking in size and volume before he came to his senses and reminded himself of locking up his office and walking over to his course. Roman was waiting for him and he made a bad example of himself when he was late to his own course.

Little did he know that he would probably be there first because Roman was still struck by seeing his boss and roommate interact so closely, so intimately. He turned his back on the window and hurried away, remembering there was a place he had to be.

He really needed to talk to Patton about this. The thespian was not sure what was going on but it looked shady and he could not tolerate it any longer. Someone needed to make sure that Logan would not fall for some dangerous asshole. Logan was too emotion-dumb for that. Not to talk about putting Patton at danger in his currently still rather fragile state...

Just..

No, he would not take this any longer. As he hurried through the extensive building and the majestic pieces of architectural beauty, he reminded himself to address the issue. He would try his best to convince Logan and Patton to just kick that guy out. Roman had no patience nor understanding left for someone who would constantly snap at him. He was not ready to risk his friends’ well-being for the sake of being fair. Virgil had played all his chances and lost already.

His time was over.

Just you wait, Virgil. Roman knew his friends and come time, they would realise that this stranger was nothing but trouble and needed to leave. No matter the nice benefits of him staying around.

He better watch out. Roman was coming for him.

[themattress]

I Grade: Lusamine

The first female Big Bad of a Pokemon generation...what the Hell went so wrong here!?

Games: In Sun/Moon, Lusamine is the Big Bad. There is no question about it, there is no adversary higher on the totem pole. And not only that, she is one of, if not the most terrifying villains the franchise has ever presented. Completely out of her mind and detached from reality, self-absorbed to the extreme, prone to raging mood swings, devoid of morality, and worst of all a textbook abusive, narcissistic parent to her children Lillie and Gladion, the president of the Aether Foundation is very easy to fear and loathe. And refreshingly for the franchise at this point, Lusamine doesn’t actually have a huge, destructive, high-stakes goal in mind. There’s a chance for mass destruction in Alola because of what she pulls, but that’s not actually the point. With her, it’s more personal: she wants to enter a world where she can be with what she loves most, the Ultra Beast Nihilego (which her twisted mind deems to be perfect, “beautiful” children that need her as a loving mother), even if it means abandoning her mistreated actual children and hurting or killing the Pokemon closest to them to do it. Clearly, this bitch is another Ghetsis: excessively vile and wholly irredeemable. Right?

......RIGHT?

Yeah, wrong. Bizarrely, Game Freak didn’t seem to actually realize just how badly they were portraying Lusamine, as it wasn’t their intention. In their minds, Lusamine was a tragic villain: a woman broken by the loss of her husband to an Ultra Wormhole experiment gone wrong, becoming possessive over her children in a misguided effort to not lose them too, and then getting addicted to Nihilego toxin while trying to find a way to get her husband back. The toxin messed with her mind, amplified all of her negative qualities such as her possessiveness toward her children to the extreme, and gradually shifted them to be directed solely toward the source of the toxin itself: Nihilego. This is why by the end of the story, Lusamine is treated as redeemable, with Lillie making strides in reconciling with her offscreen and even traveling away from her found family in Alola to go find Lusamine special medical help in Kanto.

But this just failed to come off to the majority of players. Not only is most of the necessary backstory spoken of above buried within the postgame and relayed by sources other than Lusamine herself, but all of the actual scenes in the game with Lusamine do way too good a job hitting close to home for players that have either had or known people who’ve had abusive, narcissistic parents. The child abuse angle is portrayed so strongly that any nuance gets lost in the shuffle. An astonishing number of players don’t even appear to remember Lillie reconciling with and going to help Lusamine at the end, their memory selectively stops at the powerfully-delivered speech from Lillie: “Children are not just THINGS that belong to their parents! We're not made for you to just discard when you get bored with us! That is terrible, Mother! You are terrible!"  The idea of Lusamine being redeemed and reconciled with her children is not a happy one to them, and so they ignore it and continue hating her.

This backlash clearly caught Game Freak off guard, and they made an effort to rectify it. In Ultra Sun / Ultra Moon, Lusamine’s trajectory is changed. No longer falling prey to Nihilego toxin, she is still a highly flawed and arguably abusive parent and still commits morally reprehensible acts, but now it’s for the greater good: she wants to stop the looming threat of Necrozma from destroying Alola. Her backstory is mentioned by her in the story, and it becomes clear that she’s truly motivated by her foolish pride, feeling as if defeating Necrozma will validate her self-absorbed self-image of a savior and make up for the fact that she couldn’t save her husband and drove her children away in becoming too protective of them. When she is thrashed by Necrozma and causes it to get loose and create the very threat to Alola she was hoping to prevent, Lusamine undergoes some serious self-reflection and character development for the rest of the game: reconciling with her children, making peace with the fact that she’s never getting her husband back, fixing the harm she had the Aether Foundation cause, and overall having a clear and efficient on-screen redemption.

BUT, unlike with Cyrus in Platinum where issues he had as both a character and as a villain were corrected, here Game Freak was so concerned with correcting Lusamine’s character that they neglected how she was as a villain. Since they removed the main factors that made Lusamine such a memorably terrifying villain in S/M, she now comes off as a retread of Zinnia, the antagonist of OR/AS’s postgame Delta Episode. This in itself still might have not been too bad since she still plays this antagonistic role quite well, but then the game goes and has Lusamine made to look like a putz compared to other villains not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES. First she’s beat down by Necrozma, then she’s sold out by her own underling Faba, and finally she’s held hostage by Giovanni. None of the Big Bads of the previous gens have been treated this way, as is reinforced in Episode RR where they all get to shine, so it happening to the first ever female Big Bad kind of feels like a slap in the face for many. 

The IOS game Pokemon Masters continues Game Freak’s course correction by showing us S/M’s Lusamine after she has recovered from Nihilego’s toxin, and we actually get to see her redemption process onscreen as she struggles to be a better, more selfless mother to her children and move beyond the immense guilt she feels for hurting them so badly in the past. Much like in US/UM, she still has her moments of shallowness and narcissism, but the fact that she’s aware of these flaws and is working on self-improvement makes them forgivable.  

Lusamine, when taken as a villain in S/M, is great. Lusamine, when taken as a villainous character in US/UM, is great. The problem lies in the fact that there is almost nothing in common between the two depictions of her, which while having an explanation behind it (one is juiced up on Nihilego toxin and the other is not), it still doesn’t change how jarring it feels. On the whole, the score for Lusamine in the core game series is dead middle. A good villain, but she could’ve been so much better if she was properly thought through from the beginning.

Score = 3

Anime: OK, I probably should be angry at how Lusamine is portrayed in the Sun & Moon anime series. She’s a silly, zany, energetic womanchild as opposed to a refined, graceful professional, she isn’t a villain at all since her evildoing in the anime’s Nebby arc is given to Faba and she only becomes an antagonistic Ultra Beast hybrid against her will, and furthermore she is the furthest thing from a depiction of the Gen VII Big Bad in that she is actually a Big Good: as the commander of the Ultra Guardians, she is who Ash and his friends take their orders from in their missions to defend the peace in Alola. I imagine that many people who were fans of Lusamine as a villain took this as an egregious betrayal.

But with that said, I just fucking love her! Because she appears so regularly and has interactions with so many different characters, this is the most fleshed out Lusamine in the franchise, the most real and human-feeling in spite of how comically she often behaves. The tragedy of the loss of her husband and the troubled relationship with her children manages to be kept in tact even without making her a villain, and she naturally has the happiest resolution out of all versions of the character. So despite not being evil, she’s still a fabulous Lusamine.

Score = 3.5

Manga: The chief human antagonist in the Sun/Moon Chapter, Lusamine is very well-portrayed here....for the most part, anyway. She starts off as mostly an adaptation of the S/M games’ version, but Yamamoto takes great pains to draw her a certain way - ridiculously widened eyes and a near perpetual smile on her face - to make it abundantly clear to readers that something is wrong with her, that this isn’t her normal state of mind and she is clearly badly drugged up on something (Nihilego toxin). It’s similar to this manga’s N, except...good. Because the manga can go darker than the games, we actually get to see flashbacks that show her emotional abuse of Lillie under this state, and they are extremely unsettling.

She reaches her peak when her insane goal is revealed: rather than want to go to the world of Nihilego, she’s been so intoxicated that her “love” has spread to all Ultra Beats and she wants to bring them all to Alola in order to make a paradise for them where she can be their mother. And she succeeds, too! But even that isn’t enough for her, and so she sets out to capture fucking Necrozma because she feels like only then will her paradise be complete! This leads to the highlight of her role in this arc: “Mother Beast” Lusamine vs. Necrozma! Seeing the Big Bad of S/M and the Big Bad of US/UM go at it is exhilarating to witness.

But there is one HUGE flaw holding this incarnation of Lusamine back from total greatness: it turns out that her losing her husband, getting hooked on Nihilego toxin, and everything bad that transpires with her...was facilitated by Faba. Lusamine’s personal agency that makes her story more tragic is neutered in favor of making some douchebag man responsible for it. Maybe Kusaka did this because he was worried about the readers being able to accept Lusamine’s redemption otherwise, given the reaction to her in the S/M games, but it was still the wrong call to make. He was doing so well with this Lusamine, combining the best from S/M and US/UM in her, and was building her up as the biggest human antagonist in the arc, the penultimate threat before Necrozma...and he blew it. Oh well, she is still effective in the role he has her play, and I consider this problem to be more of Faba’s than Lusamine’s.   

Score = 3.5

TCG: Lusamine debuts with the “Lusamine” card in the Crimson Invasion expansion, staged as the person who is responsible for unleashing Ultra Beasts into Alola. While not to the extent as Lysandre, Lusamine also proved to be troublesome to official tournaments and her card banned from any Expanded format games played in them. The same card was reprinted in the later Ultra Prism set, with Lusamine now being in her notorious Mother Beast form.  

In the Lost Thunder set, Lusamine and her Aether Foundation return to cause more trouble, with Lusamine getting a new “Lusamine” card. This time it was a rule on the card that you can only have one of it in your deck, and you can only play it under specific circumstances. 

Score = 3

Other: In the Pokemon Evolutions web series, Lusamine shows up in the 2nd episode “The Eclipse”, voiced to perfection by Dawn M. Bennett. She’s adapted from Ultra Sun/Ultra Moon here, abusively sneering at Lillie about how useless she is and how only she can be the savior that Alola needs. This makes it all the more satisfying when she’s reduced to a cowardly wreck following the beatdown Necrozma gives her, while Lillie is actually able to face her fears and stand up to the monster alongside Selene in order to rescue Nebby.

Score = 3

TOTAL FRANCHISE SCORE = 3 out of 5

Lusamine is a good villain in the franchise, but it will likely always be a point of frustration that she couldn’t become a great one. Everything about her on paper seems like it would make for one of the best antagonists we’ve had to date, but it just didn’t stack up that way in execution. Whatever the medium, Lusamine ended her run not looking like the Big Bad of Gen VII, with Necrozma, Giovanni, or even Faba upstaging her in that position. And that is extremely disappointing, given how many people had wanted a female Big Bad for years and were so excited that we finally seemed to have one. But hey, she tried. Kudos to her for that, at least.

BONUS: Which version is my personal favorite?

While on a strictly personal level I love the anime’s version best, when I have to choose which Lusamine works best in the villainous role she was created for then I’d have to go with US/UM’s version. While her constant getting nerfed annoys me, she still is effective as the source of all the conflict in the main story (even Necrozma would not have been the threat it is without Lusamine provoking it). And cutting down on all the craziness and child abuse, no matter how memorably terrifying that made her, did wonders for making her a nuanced foe. 

[hungline]

from summer to winter, i’ll be yours

pairing: jinkook  genre: angst, fluff, gods au, supernatural au, rated t  warnings: mild violence, scars, mentioned homophobia, mentioned natural disasters, reincarnation  words: 6240 

summary: Seokjin had learned long ago that he and Jeongguk could never really be together, but his time as summer is almost over and he'll wait as long as he has to before winter comes to pass. 

4.5

 Seokjin is only allowed out during the months of summer.

Any other time of the year, he depends on Jimin to share news of the outside world with him.

Unbeknownst to the other gods, Seokjin also depends on Jimin to share other things with him as well.

When Jimin comes rounding the corner to Seokjin's quaint little home in the realm of summer, he always bears a letter for Seokjin.

A letter delivered all the way from the realm of winter.

A letter from Jeon Jeongguk.

Jimin always hands it to him with a smile, the tip of his hat a bit crumpled by the wind and it's customary that Seokjin invites him inside, treats him to a meal and something cool to drink while he pours over his letter. Then, when Jimin is done eating, Seokjin will make him read the letter aloud, imagining that it's Jeongguk's voice instead.

Before Jimin is sent on his way again, Seokjin sits down to pen a responding letter back to Jeongguk, ignoring the pain in his hand stemming from the scars, and seals the letter before handing it to Jimin to take with him. Jimin always smiles kindly and puts it into his bag carefully, arms already thrown out to embrace Seokjin by the time he's done.

Seokjin packs him some more food and offers him another drink, ruffling Jimin's hair at the door once he's on the doorstep again, the wings on his shoes already coming to life to fly him away again.

Jimin leaves with Seokjin's heart in his bag and returns with Jeongguk's.

It's how it's always been. It's how it will always go.

He's met Jeongguk a handful of times before, but that hadn't stopped them from falling for one another.

  1

 Seokjin strolls leisurely down the sidewalk, content with the way that sunlight falls onto his face.

It's warm in Seoul, almost on the verge of hot, but it's springtime right now and Seokjin was granted permission to enter the human world earlier than usual in a few certain areas of the world. Seoul, South Korea just happened to be one of these few locations.

People around him are dressed in jeans and sneakers, young by the looks of them but Seokjin has never been good at determining human's ages. He's not very sure about what part of Seoul he's in right now, but the people around him have backpacks with them and sweat accumulating on their brows, so perhaps he's around a school of some sort.

No one bothers him as he walks by. A few people stop and stare at him, his aura glowing bright enough to be on the verge of being seen to the human eye. But Seokjin thinks they might be oggling at him because of his face instead.

He'd studied humans comprehensively, figuring out what kind of face wouldn't stand out to them, but he might've gone just a tad bit overboard. When he pauses to gaze at himself in the window of a shop, he realizes that he sticks out like a sore thumb from the people around him for many reasons.

He's quite attractive, more attractive than what is normal and the glow that surrounds him makes him look like the god that he truly is. He ruffles his hair in an attempt to make himself less attractive, but it only heightens his looks and he pouts at his reflection.

And that's when he sees him.

A hooded figure sitting at an outside cafe table, a brilliant blue aura engulfing them whole. Seokjin shivers when the figure looks up in his direction, mouth agape as they stare. Seokjin rolls his shoulders back and turns around, quickly making his way towards the blue aura.

The figure doesn't move, but Seokjin can tell that they want to run.

He sits down across from them, smiling to himself when a waiter instantly appears and asks for his order. Seokjin takes a glance at the menu and orders in perfect Korean, watching the waiter disappear inside as he turns to face the winter spirit.

"You know, it seems pretty late in the year for you to be about. Did you get lost on your way back home?" Seokjin asks, leaning back in his chair as the hooded figure peers up at him. "It's much too hot for that hood to be comfortable."

They don't reply at first, merely stare at Seokjin as he settles himself in. But then Seokjin watches with immense pleasure as they straighten in their chair and remove their hood.

Seokjin kind of wishes they hadn't once he takes in the man's face. He's young, not by just human standards, but by immortal standards as well. Seokjin drinks in his full of the man's small mouth, his doe eyes, and his large nose that's particularly round near the end of it. He's very handsome, by any standards really.

Seokjin wonders if his appearance only extends to his human form. He hopes not, but seeing as this is their first meeting, he can't be too sure.

The man is starting to fidget though and Seokjin snaps out of his trance, smiling reassuringly at him. "Your eyes are a lovely color."

A flush begins to work across his face. "They're just brown."

His voice is just as pleasant as his face, Seokjin thinks.

"A lovely brown. Nothing plain about them, you know," Seokjin chastises.

"Whatever you say then." The man blinks and blushes furiously and thenー "Your, um, eyes are...lovely, too."

Seokjin preens under the compliment, a warm feeling settling into his gut as the man avoids looking him in the eye. "Thank you."

"So," Seokjin says after the waiter has appeared with Seokjin's order. "How long have you been living in the realm of winter?"

The man shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "How do you know I'm from the realm of winter?"

Seokjin shrugs. "When you've been a god for long enough, you tend to recognize others. For instance, anyone from winter has a blue aura. Since I'm from summer, my aura is gold. Spring is green and fall is red."

The man blinks, surprised by the information and nods. "I've been living in winter for twenty-one hundred years."

"Oh, you're young. Very young. I've been living in summer for twenty-six hundred years."

"What are you doing here in Seoul?" The man, a boy really now that Seokjin knows his age, asks.

Seokjin smiles. "I was granted permission to visit a few places early and bring summer with me."

"Bring summer with you? So, you mean to say thatー"

"Yes. I'm summer. It's a pleasure to meet you," Seokjin introduces himself. "My name's Seokjin though so don't call me Summer."

The boy nods sheepishly. "I'm Jeongguk. It's nice to meet you as well."

"You're winter!" Seokjin exclaims as he claps his hands together. "No wonder your aura is so strong."

Jeongguk flushes, not having expected that Seokjin would know who he is. "Your aura is also strong."

"Thank you." Seokjin easily accepts the compliment. "But tell me, what is winter doing in Seoul in the later part of spring? Weren't you here just a few months ago?"

"Uh, yes," Jeongguk mutters. "I was, but I snuck away to come back and enjoy spring. Sometimes, it gets too cold in the realm of winter."

Seokjin nods, not as if he understands because he couldn't possibly understand having only visited winter a few times, but as if he isn't judging or reprimanding Jeongguk for wanting to see something different. Seokjin calls the waiter back and orders some more food once he realizes that he's pretty loaded with human money and digs into his scone and latte when the waiter has left. Jeongguk watches him, a half-empty cup of something bitterly sweet standing in front of him. When the waiter returns, Jeongguk watches with mild interest as Seokjin makes room for the new plates of food and it's only when the summer god places a plate in front of him that Jeongguk looks up to meet Seokjin's gaze.

"I'm not sure if you've had this before, but this one is my favorite. You should try it before you get back," Seokjin says with a warm smile.

Everything about Seokjin is warm. From his brown hair to his tanned skin to the comforting personality of his. Jeongguk stares at him for a while, carefully storing every little thing about Seokjin away for later in case this is their first and last time seeing one another.

Seokjin eats without preamble, his human form marveling over the different tastes and textures and Jeongguk smiles, small and shy and barely there, but Seokjin can see it as clear as day as he continues to eat, his own smile spread wide across his lips.

  2

 When they meet again, it's at the Autumn Takayama Festival held in Japan.

The trees are only just beginning to shed their leaves, the air heavy with the barely there bite of autumn.

Truly, Seokjin hadn't had the slightest clue what had made him want to attend, but he hadn't snuck out of the realm of summer for no reason after all. So here he walks the streets, his appearance more subdued than last time and a pink pullover stretched across his shoulders and chest. Even with a bigger nose and weak chin, Seokjin is still by far the most handsome man on this side of the human world.

It's a bit unfair, maybe if he really thinks about it. He's only gawked at amongst humans, but that's the fate most gods have to endure. Still, it isn't as if Seokjin receives any personal offerings in his actual name anymore.

Sure, there are summer solstices and a few rare villages that still celebrate the changing of the seasons, but there's never enough to actually sustain Seokjin like he used to be. It's unfair that despite being a god, he isn't very well appreciated as much as he should be.

He brings about sunshine and warm weather for the humans, the least they could do is burn up a few apples and pieces of meat in his name. Not much to ask for really.

Seokjin pushes those bitter thoughts away though. He hadn't come to the autumn festival to loathe his mistreatment. He's above that after all.

Seokjin doesn't need for others to love him for him to love himself.

He knows he's the best person he can be and if he's confident in himself, then he sees no reason why he should be upset over others not celebrating him as they used to.

The wind picks up then and lifts the end of his scarf, bringing the tassels up and slapping him across the face once the wind lets them go. Seokjin spits them away, using his hand to push the remaining tassels away.

He really doesn't get human fashion but apparently, this is common attire during autumn.

He keeps walking, taking notice of the golden colors and the street vendors with their hand-woven bracelets, fake gold necklaces, and bland smelling food. Not that the food isn't good, it probably is to humans, Seokjin thinks, but compared to the food he regularly eats in his own home, the food is bland.

There's a live band playing to his right on a small stage surrounded by families lying about on blankets and eating out of baskets. A few babies are crying here and there but their mothers are quick to shush them, rocking them in their arms as they hum a lullaby and wait for their fathers to hand them a bottle. Seokjin pauses when he watches two women cooing over a baby between them.

As far as Seokjin knows about humans, what he's watching isn't very common and in some places frowned upon. He doesn't very well understand why per say, but from the social cues he's gathered from humans he's come into contact with, it's not normal.

And it mustn't be if the glares other families are throwing their way is anything to go off of.

Still, Seokjin wonders why it's not normal. There's nothing wrong about it. The two women are doing the exact same thing other parents are doing with their own children. Hell, they look like they're doing a better job than most actually.

One woman catches him staring and Seokjin smiles, nodding his head and waiting until the woman nods back before looking away again.

Some wordless communication has passed between them and he isn't really sure what they were trying to say to each other.

He starts walking again, passing some more street vendors who do their best to pitch sales at him. Seokjin ignores them, instead focusing on the unlit paper lanterns that line the path and follows them into a courtyard where a large fountain is spouting water in the center of it.

The back of his neck prickles with awareness and Seokjin looks to his left to find Jeongguk perched on the dry ledge encompassing the fountain, his ankles tucked in beneath him. He's wearing a hoodie again, except this time the hood is down and his eyes are brighter than before. His hair is lighter too but for the most part, Jeongguk looks exactly the same as the last time Seokjin saw him.

Jeongguk is watching him intently, his eyes briefly trailing down Seokjin's figure before fixating back on his eyes and wordlessly drawing him close. Seokjin goes willingly, letting the strange pull take him forward the few necessary steps he needs to take before he's settling down a foot away from Jeongguk. Jeongguk's blue aura visibly pulses with an unknown surge and Seokjin shivers as a cold gust of wind rushes through the courtyard, scattering litter, leaves and stray flyers alike.

"Hello again."

Jeongguk turns in his seat, his body angled towards Seokjin. "Hi."

Seokjin smiles and nods. "Do you make it a habit to come out during every season?"

"Maybe," Jeongguk says with a tiny shrug, his face expressionless. "This is my first time in autumn though."

Seokjin nods again. "Me too."

People walk past them, almost all of them clutching shopping bags in their hands as they bustle about. Seokjin smiles at a few pigeons that peck at the ground nearby. Jeongguk is silent as he toys with his fingers, possibly struggling with coming up with something to say, but Seokjin is willing to wait it out.

Seokjin would wait for as long as Jeongguk needs.

"Your face..." Jeongguk begins to say, breaking off with a flush when Seokjin looks up to meet his gaze.

"My face what?" Seokjin prompts.

Jeongguk shrugs again, an amused upwards curl to the corners of his mouth as he speaks. "It's different."

"A good different?"

"I suppose so," Jeongguk says with a little chuckle at the end.

"You suppose so?" Seokjin asks, leaning in a little closer.

Jeongguk laughs now, a breathy sound that makes Seokjin's chest flush with warmth. "I don't know. It's more you than last time, but not you at the same time."

"What do you mean? Don't I look like myself?" Seokjin isn't aware of how close he is to the younger until the edges of his vision are layered in a bright icy blue glow.

He leans away quickly, smiling when he catches sight of the flush working itself across Jeongguk's cheeks. Jeongguk gives him a tentative smile back then shakes his head.

"No, you don't."

Seokjin hums, nodding some more as he looks back towards the pigeons. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Now the air is awkward but Seokjin does his best to ignore the feeling. He's out and about during autumn for fuck's sake. If the council knew, he'd be stripped of his status and reborn as a human much earlier than he had planned to. He feels a little rush of absolute thrill run through him when he realizes how fucked he is if he gets caught.

"Do you want to walk around and watch them light the lanterns with me later?" Seokjin asks, turning to meet Jeongguk's gaze once more.

Jeongguk blinks at him, his doe eyes becoming impossibly wide and Seokjin feels the strange urge to laugh. "Now?"

Seokjin nods, letting the pleased smile he's been fighting back spread wide across his lips. "Yes. Unless you have other plans?"

"No!" Jeongguk shouts then flushes when he realizes how loud that was. "I mean, no. No, I do not have other plans."

"Excellent," Seokjin chuckles, clapping his hands together as he stands with a flourish. "Let's go check out the food stalls."

"Oh, uh, I don't have any money," Jeongguk murmurs quietly as he stands up as well.

Seokjin smiles at him and shrugs. "That's fine. I'll pay. I have too much of this money anyway and I need to get rid of it before I head back, otherwise, I'll be found out. So you're doing me a favor by trying out each and every food vendor with me."

"Each and every...?" Jeongguk trails off, gulping nervously as they begin to leave the courtyard. "I don't know if I can eat that much."

"Trust me," Seokjin says with a smile. "You can."

And if Jeongguk keeps a few feet of space between them the entire time, Seokjin acts none the wiser about it.

  3

 The council meeting ends easily enough. Seokjin was as bored as ever during it and his report was easy to hand in, so he doesn't know why he's on edge right now.

His hands are clenched into tight fists, his heartbeat a harsh tattoo in his ears and there's a weird tugging sensation in his gut that's beginning to make him feel queasy. Which he finds beyond strange because gods don't feel sick or queasy or ill in the way that humans generally describe their illnesses as.

But he keeps walking, his eyes on his feet, the tugging sensation only increasing as he does. It's strange and uncomfortable and Seokjin barely registers the cold gush of unexpected wind that strikes him in the face when he rounds the corner and steps outside into the main courtyard.

There's a fight going on out here between two winter spirits. Or maybe a winter god and a spirit. Seokjin can't very well tell with the sensation pulling and urging him towards the commotion.

A ring of spring spirits surround the two fighting, all focused on keeping the worst of the harsh winds away from the flowers. The spirits easily break away and leave him a gap to slip through and then the tugging is easing away as he steps closer to the fight.

He can't really see much even with being this up close. The wind blurs most of his sight and what he can see is just jackets flapping into the spirits’ faces and sprinkles of ichor painting the ground.

Seokjin barely has time to think about why the fight hasn't been broken up yet when the tugging sensation comes back with a vengeance and pushes him forward. He holds his hands out to break his fall and the second his hand touches someone else's arm, he knows without a doubt that it's Jeongguk he's touching.

He doesn't know how he knows, but he does and he doesn't have time to expand on that before the world rips apart before his very eyes and his body goes cold, his eyes closing to a darkness that sears the inside of his skull.

Seokjin loses awareness then, but not before he manages to make out Jeongguk's panicked scream ringing in the air around them.

  4

 Namjoon hovers over him constantly while Seokjin recovers.

It's annoying and Seokjin feels smothered, but he knows better than to take his frustration out on Namjoon. Namjoon is just doing his job as god of medicine to make sure the god of summer recovers just fine. Sure, Namjoon couldn't do anything about the scarring on the back of Seokjin's hand, but considering all the scorched skin Seokjin had first sported, Seokjin is lucky to have Namjoon at his beck and call for the time being.

Instead, Seokjin takes his frustrations out on Jeongguk who he's being forced to send letters through Jimin if he even wants a chance to talk to him. It's dumb and childish and they're gods for fuck's sake, why must they debase themselves to something so elementary?

Still, it goes on like that for a while and Jimin always seems more excited each and every time he comes by to deliver another letter.

Seokjin doesn't understand why until Jimin is jumping up and down on his doorstep one day, waving Jeongguk's letter in Seokjin's face before he tears open the already opened envelope and begins to read the letter aloud in a poor imitation of Jeongguk's voice. Really Seokjin should've seen this coming but he'd been too blinded by his irritation with the winter god to really focus on much else.

"I'd like to meet in winter. Where we first saw one another. Three days time. Please. Jeongguk."

Seokjin rolls his eyes and takes the envelope, letting Jimin in as he prepares food for the messenger and mulls over Jeongguk's request. Jimin bounces in his seat, excitement making the wings on his shoes flutter. Jimin entertains them by floating a few centimeters off his seat, but Seokjin is much too distracted to even notice if Jimin is still in the same room as him or not.

When Seokjin turns to serve Jimin his food, the messenger doesn't need a verbal confirmation of what he already knows.

Still, it lights him up from the inside when Seokjin immediately begins to gather what he deems necessary and presses his response to Jeongguk's summons into Jimin's hand before the younger god leaves.

Seokjin aimlessly wanders his home for the next two days after that, managing to persuade Namjoon into leaving while he does. He feels as healthy as ever and he knows better than to touch other season gods, but he's still lucky that the council let him off the hook when they realized he was trying to break up the fight. Of course, it had ended with Jeongguk getting two hundred years knocked off his sentence as winter, but that had only seemed to make Seokjin even happier when he realized that he and Jeongguk would be giving up their duties with a smaller window of time separating them now.

A season god can't remain in the same form for more than three thousand years, anything more than that and the god will become violent and unreasonable. Most season gods do not wish to serve more than two thousand and five hundred years anyway. Seokjin had been fine with his life as the god of summer until he met Jeongguk.

He isn't very sure about when it happened, maybe during their back-and-forth chain of letters or maybe before that, but somehow Seokjin had begun to care for the winter god in a way similar to what humans described as love. Seokjin didn't really know how that had happened or how he knew what to compare the emotion too, but the idea had come to him easily and so he had accepted it without preamble.

It's on the day of their meeting that Seokjin easily pops into the human realm and wanders the streets of Seoul for a while. He isn't far from where they had first met, but Seokjin doesn't see a reason to hurry onward.

He's altered his appearance again, his chin stronger and his nose smaller but his brows thicker and the shape of his face slimmer. Seokjin is still pretty handsome compared to other humans anyway, but after Jeongguk claiming he didn't really look like himself, Seokjin had been a little self-conscious about the way he looked now.

It's winter in Seoul, dreadfully cold and not that many people walking about. Seokjin huddles into his jacket and his scarf, a beanie on his head. His gloved hands are buried deep within the pockets of his jacket, the slightest bit cold until he remembers that he's the freaking god of summer.

His aura vibrates around him as heat and the smell of hibiscus and marigolds engulf him. His face feels warmer and he's sure there's a flush steadily working its way across his face, but for the moment, Seokjin is more preoccupied with the tugging sensation making a comeback in his gut.

It's urging him to round the corner and Seokjin knows without a doubt that it's his own personal Jeongguk compass.

So he follows the pull, feeling squeamish with each step until he's past the corner of the street and he can see a hooded figure sitting at their table. The tug lessens as Seokjin crosses the street and then Jeongguk turns in his seat to pin Seokjin with his gaze. Seokjin takes another step and freezes when a violent wind rips the air in front of him.

His vision of Jeongguk is splintered now, but he can clearly make out the panicked look in Jeongguk's eyes as the younger man stands up and rushes towards Seokjin.

The wind grows stronger, a strange ice-cold trail of liquid running down Seokjin's spine as he tries to walk forward again. More wind whips out at him, colder and harsher than before and Seokjin feels glued to the spot. He can't move, he feels frozen solid and Jeongguk is screaming again.

Blue is filling his vision. Seokjin feels as if he'll never be warm again.

There's a hand on his arm now, unfamiliar and familiar all at the same time. Jeongguk is no longer anywhere in Seokjin's sight and Seokjin belatedly realizes that he is no longer in Seoul anymore.

Jimin's grip on him is tight as they jump through the realms, but Seokjin can't focus on anything more than that.

The world rips apart again for the second time and Seokjin blacks out as cold wraps itself around him.

Later, Jeongguk will send a letter to Seokjin apologizing for everything, but Seokjin ignores the majority of the letter and only hangs onto three little words that mean the world to him.

See you soon.

  5

 Namjoon's hovering is more annoying now.

Seokjin lets him stay longer than last time, but eventually, he's healed again and Jeongguk's sentence has now had another three hundred years deduced from it.

Really, Seokjin's lucky that Jeongguk took the full brunt of the blame for what happened and the blizzard that had wracked Seoul won't be forgotten anytime soon. Seokjin doesn't feel lucky though when Jeongguk sends him another letter saying they can't see one another again.

And he really should have known that would happen.

When season gods come into repeated contact with one another, strange and horrible natural occurrences happen as their spirits become more intertwined. Their auras begin calling to one another whenever the other is nearby, completely blinding the god to the air changing around them until it's far too late. When season gods touch one another, the mark of their season is burned into the other god's skin, proclaiming them connected for the unforeseeable future.

Suddenly, it isn't so strange why Seokjin had been banned from visiting the other season gods without the council's explicit permission to do so.

The crisscrossed snowflakes on the back of his hand are proof enough.

Still, the days grow boring in his home and the realm of summer makes him restless. The days begin to bleed into years and Seokjin barely notices that his time as summer is almost up.

But that also means Jeongguk's time is almost up as well.

Seokjin marks his calendar and spends evenings with Jimin on his back porch, sipping on iced drinks as they coo over Jeongguk's letters.

Before long, Seokjin is standing in the council room with the new summer god in front of him, nervously waiting for Seokjin to pass on his duties.

Hoseok is jittery, sure, but Seokjin knows he'll make a fine god of summer and tells him this before taking Hoseok's trembling hand and letting go of immortality.

  Seokjin's life has been pretty uneventful so far. He doesn't feel special or extraordinary and being from a wealthy family doesn't really mean much to him.

Of course, the expensive school trips to Australia and Japan, always having the latest trendiest fashions in his wardrobe and never having to question whether he'd be able to pay for university were comforting things to Seokjin, but in the long run, he knows he'd have been fine without all of that. He's handsome and smart and well-mannered and his love for puns always makes his friends laugh nervously with him.

Seokjin has never wanted for not, but no matter where's he been or what's he done, there's always been an empty hole within him. He doesn't know what's supposed to be there, but something vital about him is missing.

The strange scar on the back of his hand might be able to give him some clues. Maybe, but on the other hand, it always seems to ache whenever it snows or is about to snow and that’s the most Seokjin has ever learned about it.

After staring so intently at the scarring for twenty-six years, Seokjin has come to see crisscrossed snowflakes on the back of his hand. Which he finds ironic because his favorite season is summer.

During summer, he can walk around his apartment shirtless and in boxers while the ac blows cold air into his space. He can use the heat as an excuse for not dressing formally when his parents hold their monthly dinners and if he wants to stick his head into his freezer back at his apartment, he has the full liberty to do just that. Summer means no school, scorching heat and lots of ice cream.

Summer also means that Seokjin's alone.

Sometimes, Seokjin will feel a strange sense of deja vu when he's walking down a street near the university and other times he feels as if he's waiting for someone when he sits down at an outside table at his favorite cafe. He doesn't know why he feels like this, but it's been going on for most of his life so he's just sort of used to it by now.

Still, there's something missing from his life and Seokjin desperately wants to know what it is.

   Seokjin strolls leisurely down the sidewalk, content with the way that sunlight falls onto his face.

It's warm in Seoul, almost on the verge of hot, but it's late springtime right now and Seokjin thinks summer might come early this year. He's just finished his early final for his mythology class and he's pretty sure he aced it.

People around him are dressed in jeans and sneakers, very young by the looks of them. They have backpacks with them and sweat accumulating on their brows and Seokjin empathizes with them about this early summer heat and the stress brought on by school.

No one bothers him as he walks by. A few people stop and stare at him, but Seokjin knows they're oggling at him because of his face. He pauses to examine himself in the window of a shop, his sweaty reflection staring back at him.

His brown hair is styled perfectly, parted down the side with the longer half of his hair swept across his forehead. It's a style he's perfected over time after standing for hours in front of his mirror, agonizing over his hair and making his bangs fall just the right way. His nose is just the right length for his face and his plush lips are something he's nicknamed as "blow job lips" and of course, he'd lived up to that title by giving a few lucky guys a blowie or two.

But that's another matter altogether. Right now, Seokjin is in awe of the fact of just how much his face reflects who he truly is. There's almost a glow surrounding him as he ruffles his hair, making him look slightly inhuman and more godly than anything else, but Seokjin ends up smirking when the messy hair only adds to his attractiveness.

And that's when he sees him.

A hooded figure is sitting at his table outside his favorite cafe, something blue about their body engulfing them. Seokjin shivers when the figure looks up in his direction, mouth agape as they stare. He makes a split second decision and rolls his shoulders back as he turns around, quickly making his way towards the figure. Something tugs him closer to the stranger and Seokjin is helpless to defy the feeling as he walks forward.

The figure doesn't move, but Seokjin can tell that they want to run.

He sits down across from them, smiling to himself when a waiter instantly appears and asks for his order. Seokjin doesn't have to take a glance at the menu to know what he wants, yet it's still amusing to see the figure twitch with unease as the waiter walks away.

"You know, it's much too hot for that hoodie to be comfortable," Seokjin murmurs, leaning back in his chair as the hooded figure peers up at him.

They don't reply at first, merely watch Seokjin as he settles himself in. The tugging sensation is gone now and Seokjin feels as if he can breathe easier. But then the hooded figure straightens in their chair and removes their hood.

Seokjin kind of wishes they hadn't once he takes in the man's face. He's young, very young and Seokjin feels as if he knows him from somewhere. He drinks in his full of the man's small mouth, his doe eyes, and his large nose that's particularly round near the end of it. He's very handsome, almost as handsome as Seokjin.

The man starts to fidget in his chair and Seokjin snaps out of his trance, smiling reassuringly at him before blurting the first thing he can think of to break the awkward silence.

"Your eyes are a lovely color."

A flush begins to work across the young man's face. "They're just brown."

His voice is just as pleasant as his face, Seokjin thinks.

"A lovely brown. Nothing plain about them, you know," Seokjin chastises.

"Whatever you say then." The man blinks and blushes furiously and thenー "Your, um, eyes are...lovely, too."

Seokjin preens under the compliment, a warm feeling settling into his gut as the man avoids looking him in the eye and he still can't fight that heavy feeling of deja vu that's plaguing him. "Thank you."

"So," Seokjin says after the waiter has appeared with his order. "Do you come here often?"

"Um," the man mutters, his fingers interwoven together so tightly that Seokjin's unsure if they'll ever be free of one another again. "I guess?"

Seokjin laughs and flushes as well when he realizes how utterly bizarre this all is. He's probably just ruined this cute guy's day.

"Why don't I introduce myself," Seokjin says with a smile, holding his hand out across the table for the man to shake, ignoring the fact that it's his scarred one. "I'm Kim Seokjin. Twenty-six years old and your local still-stuck-in university student."

The man shifts uncomfortably in his seat, eyeing Seokjin's hand warily. "I'm Jeon Jeongguk. I'm twenty-one and I'll be starting at the university nearby next fall."

Jeongguk takes Seokjin's hand and Seokjin barely notices the raised skin on the back of it before the world comes to a stop around them and his scar begins to burn. A sharp awareness flashes between them and Seokjin goes dizzy with all the memories that are flashing in his mind.

Letters. A cute, bunny-like smile. Winged shoes. Scrawly handwriting and amusing doodles of buffed up bunnies. Two bodies tumbling together on the ground. Harsh, cold winds slapping Seokjin in the face. A panicked scream he wishes he'll never have to hear again. The feeling of his skin being burned before he blacks out and then wakes up to his bandaged body being taken care of by someone whose name he can't remember anymore. The fresh crisscrossed snowflakes on his hand as he gripped onto a number of pens tightly as he wrote more love letters to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk.

The world restarts and Seokjin finds that the emptiness within him is filled in now.

"Gukkie," Seokjin murmurs, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes as his scar stops burning. "Where have you been?"

Jeongguk looks up at him in wonder, silently shifting their hands until the back of his hand is facing upwards and Seokjin almost chokes at the sight of the sun-shaped scar located there. "Looking for you."

Seokjin traces the scar, in awe of how cool Jeongguk's skin feels under his scorching touch. "Well, you've found me. What do you plan to do now?"

Jeongguk smiles and leans forward, letting his other hand cup the side of Seokjin's face. "Stay by your side for a very long time."

Seokjin finds himself leaning in as well, their lips a hairsbreadth apart. "That sounds like an amazing plan."

"It is, isn't it?" Jeongguk smiles, their breaths intermingling in the tiny space between them.

They lean in as one, their lips brushing together gently and Seokjin finally lets himself breathe as Jeongguk presses more insistently against his mouth.

Summer is no longer Seokjin's favorite season now that Winter has come to stay.

[letteredlettered]

Can you share more about what Patrick is thinking in the condom scene in your latest fic? Like is Patrick going By The Textbook or is he trying to last longer or he is trying to prove something to David? I love seeing discussion of safe sex in fic, it’s so important and real!! Your whole fic is so lovely, our fandom is lucky to have you!!

LOL I love this question. I love seeing discussion of safe sex in fic too, though I confess, not because it’s important. Like, to me, fic is a fantasy and you can discuss important things elsewhere if you don’t want to do it in your fantasy. My problem is I just so happen to get off on certain important things. Like, a lot. My other problem is that about certain things I get very literal and can’t turn off my brain. I have so much trouble enjoying sex scenes when I’m worried someone will get an STD or pregnant or E Coli or. Too many things. It’s very silly, because I never ever worry about how magic doesn’t exist when I write HP fic.

Anyway, Patrick’s not trying to prove something to David–at least, not in the way you mean, I don’t think. I don’t think it occurs to Patrick that David would think, “Oh, someone thought about my safety, how thoughtful,” because to Patrick this is just how you do it. You’re safe and you’re responsible and you’re respectful. It does make him sad when David’s response reminds him that that’s not really how David does things and it’s not how people have treated David in the past.

Patrick’s also not trying to last longer. He got himself off before coming to Stevie’s; David got him off again earlier. Patrick’s a little worried he might actually take too long and David’s jaw will ache or something, but Patrick kind of doubts it. His dick has behaved like a teenager for weeks now.

So, the closest answer is Patrick is going By The Textbook–like I said, safe, responsible, and respectful. But. Um. Following the textbook has a lot less to do with Doing Things Right Just To Do Things Right and everything to do with not getting STDs, and it also has nothing to do with right now and everything to do with the future.

David has made it clear he’s had many partners. David’s also made it kind of clear that he’s been self-destructive in the past, and David can’t seem to see it, but Patrick feels he can very clearly see that David has been mistreated. Patrick thinks David would tell him if he had an STD, but he’s not certain David would know if he had an STD. All of this, plus just common sense and general safety, make Patrick feel like he needs to think realistically about safe sex when he’s with David.

Patrick knows that oral sex is really low risk in terms of serious STDs, and he also knows that lots of people are super blase about this risk, but Patrick’s already dealing with kind of a lot–new relationship, new sexuality (not to mention new job and still new town, sort of)–that taking that risk is still something he feels unsure about at this point.

But, Patrick feels very sure he himself doesn’t have STDs, because he’s always been very careful, and he’s been tested, and he always does everything right. He also knows he can’t get anything serious or untreatable from David’s mouth, and that anything he could get that way, he’d probably already have from kissing him.

So. Wanting to use a condom for David to suck him has very little to do with safety in that moment and everything to do with a future in which Patrick plans to a) suck David’s dick like a goddamn hoover, b) bang David’s ass like a goddamn screen door in a hurricane, c) get fucked in the ass by David, probably very gently, with, like, heated oil and the scent of candles all around or however the hell that will happen. Patrick wants all that very, very much, (I mean he also wants to fuck David gently with heated oil in the warm glow of candles; Patrick has a long fucking list about this) and Patrick plans very, very much, and in every single one of these plans he’s thinking very seriously about condoms, because even though a) and b) are actually rather low risk for him getting an STD, he’s still not sure he wants to take said risk.

And it is sad, it is so so so fucking sad to Patrick, the idea of asking David to suck him with no mention of condoms, and then to sometime in the future go down on David and demand a condom. Patrick thinks about how the inequality would make David feel–how it could remind David of his past, or make David think that Patrick judges his past, or doesn’t trust him now. Patrick gets kind heartbroken, thinking about it, David and condoms, thinking about the fact that David might not have used them in the past, that he might not have cared enough and thought deeply enough about himself and his own safety to use them, that Patrick asking for one for David when he didn’t for himself would remind David of that and possibly make him feel promiscuous/dirty/used, or like Patrick thought David was promiscuous/dirty/used. Patrick wants David to think he uses them for everything all the time, so that David never thinks it’s about him specifically. Patrick just wants it never to become a thing.

But he also really really wants David’s mouth on his dick in a way he can really feel it so when David says but I never use condoms for oral Patrick says, fuck it I’ll worry about it later. I mean, Patrick kind of keeps saying fuck it I’ll worry about it later about a lot of things, including Rachel, who keeps texting him, and his parents, who last week asked whether he’s dating anyone.

Patrick’s kind of fucked up.

[thenightling]

Re: Castlevania drama

So apparently Confessavia decided to block me because they “looked through” my blog and saw “anti-SJW content” (SJW = Social Justice Warriors, for the handful who don’t know what that means)  and the recent (and ironically 90% joking) feud with Cisphobia and I. 

Edit: You know, if you’re going to block someone without just cause, you probably should check to make sure the incidents you reference weren’t from an event from twelve hours after the blocking.  I and Cisphobia didn’t interact until after you blocked me and it ultimately ended in the meme equivalent of a playful dance off.  But nice effort in seeking reason to justify mistreating someone who never wronged you.  

The blocker also claimed that my response to their post was dramatic (that was the idea... It wasn’t an attack on them, it was just meant to be a little segway into a rant because of other crap I’ve dealt with here on Tumblr...) and they also said that there is... no one on Tumblr who calls Dracula Problematic.

  (Ha-f---king ha!)  REALLY!?  YOU RUN A CASTLEVANIA BLOG AND NEVER SEEN THAT?!?

...HOW?!

There are Once upon a Time blogs that call Rumplestiltskin problematic, even now, even though the series finale literally had him ascend to Heaven! 

There are people on here who call The Shape of Water problematic.  And at least two people who called Daredevil problematic / Ableist (A blind character) for calling another character (who wanted to kill people) “Crazy.”  

This is Tumblr!  Don’t you know EVERYTHING is problematic on here?!

Ironic.  Funny how someone who doesn’t even know me leapt to such incredible conclusions about me as a person and was so swift to judge and condemn me...

_______________________

My response to this:

Um….  okay….

Before you leap to conclusions about a person’s personality, you probably should have noticed Cisphobia and I were mostly just f–king around with each other and joking by the end of the “argument” and responding to each other with anime memes.   And I never actually disagreed with their intent.

However if you had searched my blog and searched under “Fred Saberhagen” or “The Dracula Tape” “Dracula” or even “Castlevania” there are most certainly conversations from people who called Dracula, and depictions of Dracula problematic.

How the Hell do you search my blog and NOT find me defending depictions of Dracula against people who bashed the character?!

Here is a response I was forced to give after someone went on a long rant against The Dracula tape (a novel by the late Fred Saberhagen) and The Dracula series by the late Fred Saberhagen.  This has happened at least three times but this was the first.

https://thenightling.tumblr.com/post/147441223978/addressing-issues-with-the-person-reading-the

(And that was immediately after the late Fred Saberhagen’s widow joined Tumblr so she had to read people bashing her husband’s book series because the narrator was “problematic.”)

There’s another post (which I can’t seem to find right now) where someone bitched about how it must contain the “Sexism of the seventies” in Saberhagen’s The Dracula Tape (because it was published in 1976.  As if people forget when Interview with the vampire was first published...)

And at least one post talking about how “Creepy” it is he watches a teenage girl sleep in An Old Friend of the Family (also by Fred Saberhagen).  Umm...  He’s Dracula, it’s kind of supposed to be a little creepy.  Even if he is narrating and trying to make it sound romantic, you’re supposed to read between the lines because he’s most the most honest of narrators.

Also check out this Casltevania post where this poor person who wanted a fan fic of Dracula and Lisa reunited in the afterlife was told by other “fans’ that he is damned and it’s never gonna happen- they can never be reunited, ever.   They were bullied about it so I stepped in.

https://thenightling.tumblr.com/post/181241099958/he-will-never-alucardtepesfahrenheit-shame-on

There are other Castlevania fans who were asked to mark their Dracula posts with “Child abuse” . There are people who headcanon that Dracula was a very abusive dad in Castlevania because there are some Alucard fans as protective of their cinnamon roll as Marvel Loki fans. (Yes, I once got a request to tag an Odin post as “child abuse... just for mentioning Odin...).    

Here’s my rant response I wrote in regard to some Youtube comments upset that Dracula in Marvel comics “is no longer straight.”

https://thenightling.tumblr.com/post/183667354468/draculas-bisexuality-in-pop-culture

There’s a Mina RPer on here who bashes anyone who happens to like the 1992 film Bram Stoker’s Dracula because she hates the idea of Dracula and Mina as a couple and tries to shame everyone who likes it, even if they know it’s not in the novel.

There was also someone who joined my Gothic horror group on Facebook (A man I’ll call a white knight) who was very protective of Winona Ryder’s Mina to the point of diminishing the character’s agency to “protect” her and insisted the Gary Oldman version of Dracula “took advantage” of Mina and in his protective / defense of Mina went on rants that made her sound like an idiot and damsel who didn’t know what she was doing or under a spell for most of the film and needed a “Good” man to tell her what to do and think, it was offensive in its sexism disguised as feminism. 

Check out how many people comment on clips from the 1992 film or write essays about Dracula and how he’s going to Hell, completely ignoring the DVD commentary...

But sure, no one calls him problematic... ever... that never happens.  Nope.  (Sarcasm intended.) 

And back in 2011 I started to do online RP depictions of Dracula on IMVU and I, myself, dealt with people coming into the RP room with characters who can “sense who is damned and who is saved.”  Not only did I deal with people certain he would burn in eternal Hellfire but when I’d tell them that sort of power to sense eternal damnation or salvation was too extreme I’d get responses of “lol, he’s Dracula!  It’s not like Dracula can be saved.” Arguing with me when I mention that the idea of his soul being saved / him ascending to Heaven was actually an aspect of Stoker’s original novel as Mina talked about saving his soul which brought the other heroes to tears. And so they were relieved by the look of peace on his face when they killed him (in the novel).    

But okay…

Again, all this happened because I made the mistake of agreeing with the post on Confessionvania’s blog and going on a rant in my agreeing with them... Somehow they (and another person) drastically misunderstood I was being supportive in their stance.  There was ...nothing to disagree with...

You (person who blocked me) made a lot of false and wrongful judgements about me but I don’t have the will right now to defend myself. So have a good day.

PS, let it be known I am pro-Trans rights and am a member of the LGBT community (Pan romantic demi).  I’m a woman. I believe in true equality of the sexes as intended by Mary Wollstonecraft.  I’m somewhere between buddhist and Wiccan in my spiritual beliefs. I am what is considered legally blind (poor eyesight) and have no clue what my paternal racial background is.  But I really shouldn’t require a checklist to be considered a human being here on Tumblr. And yet here we are... again...

Funny how someone can read through my blog, decide I’m a bad person, and the reason for my rant was imaginary and miss all of that, as well as several posts that were in defense of Dracula...

Ah, well.  I don’t like defending myself against strangers but I also loathe misinformation.  So here’s the truth as I perceive it, for better or worse.  Take it or leave it. 

Edit: Note.  I just checked the time stamps.  The Castlevania Confessions blog blocked me BEFORE Cisphobia and I played our little trollish game.  So nice try in attempting to use that as the excuse for blocking someone who never wronged you...   I guess you searched my blog for justifications after the fact and didn’t check to see when things were posted when attempting to use them as righteous reasons to mistreat others.

That’s all right.  I have no interest in liars.  And now the world knows you to be one.  That’s justice enough.  

[lovemesomesurveys]

5,000 question survey series--part thirty-three

3101. Would it bother you if your priest, rabbii or other religious leader (teacher if you are not religious) started wearing a plain black mask all the time? If yes, why? Yes. I’d find it very odd to say the least and I’d also be skeptical. It’s not something worn by priests or rabbis. 3102. Where do you look for the answers? Google. ha. 3103. If you are driving and someone honks at you does it ruin your whole day? I don’t drive. It would probably piss me off, but I don’t know if it would ruin my whole day. 3104. If you are driving and you get angry at another driver do you: yell at them through their and your closed window? Yeah, I’d just cuss ‘em out to myself, ha. open the window and yell at them? throw things at them? stop the car and start a fight with them? do something else?

3105. I'm in the right lane on the parkway. There is an exit only lane on my right. A car pulls out from behind the pack into the exit only lane. When that car gets to the exit he is right in front of me only one lane to the right of me. Instead of exiting the parkway he tries to creep back in in front of me. I get pissed and honk the horn. He (I keep saying he but I couldn't tell) throws up his hands as he slides in front of me. I think this is funny and toot again. He throws up his hands again. I do this about three more times and each time I toot he throws his hands in the air. Then my exit clomes up and I have to get off. From the time he got in front of me until I got off the parkway we drove approx. 20 feet. What you think about this situation? I really didn’t feel like reading the whole thing, ha. 3106. Do you live in reality or in your 'own little world'? I do get lost in my head with my own thoughts all the time, but I’m also in reality and know what’s going on. Which one is better? Neither are great. 3107. Who's your favorite soprano? I didn’t watch that. 3108. Why is there porn geared towards straight men, gay men, lesbians but none really geared towards straight woman? I don’t know anything about that. Or care. 3109. Is there more to being human than chemicles and impulses? If yes, what? These questions are too much for me, ha. I don’t feel like thinking that deep. 3110. What if all the boys in jail could get out now together? Um no? 3111. If your shoes could talk what would they say? They’d be pretty happy cause they’re kept in good condition. They never even touch the ground. Or they might be sad cause I never go anywhere and they just sit in my closet. *shrug* 3112. How many windows are in your house? 3. 3113. Did you walk around your house and count them all? No. If not what did you do? I already knew the answer since we don’t have that many. 3114. Do you think people store memories as pictures or words? People’s minds work differently. 3115. If you got sent to jail who would your one phone call be to? My mom. 3116. Pick a movie you have seen: Us. Give a 2 sentance review about it using the word 'go': You should go see it cause it’s creepy and great. The deeper messages and meanings are interesting. 3117. Pick a song you like: Free bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Give a 2 sentance review of it useing the word 'come': Blah. 3118. Pick a person you like: Alexander Skarsgard. Give a two sentance description of them useing the word 'lunchbox': Blaaaaah. 3119. What do these 3 words have in common: hippo, camp, us? Hippocampus is a word. 3120. If you could save time in a bottle, the first thing that you'd like to do is.. “If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to doooo.” 3121. Who is the most powerful person in the world that you can think of? God is the most powerful everything. 3122. If you were designing a mini-golf hole what would it be like? Like a golf hole. 3123. Why do you think certain people become targets for teasing in school or exclusion at work? Bullies pick at on people they think are weak. 3124. Why, in essays, is the word 'I' not allowed to be used when it is our own PERSONAL thoughts being expressed? It’s evident that it’s your own personal thoughts unless stated otherwise. There’s no need to put “I.” 3125. What song would you like your doorbell to play? That would actually get annoying. 3126. Would you rather watch MTV or play GO FISH? Depends what was on. I like Go Fish, though. I played that all the time with my Nana when I was a kid. 3127. What is an itch? An irritation to your skin or nerve cells. 3128. Why did the holocost happen? Adolf Hitler and his radical racist beliefs. 3129. Would you be capable of torturing another person? I can’t imagine myself ever physically hurting someone. This does makes me think of the famous psychological experiment, the Milgram Experiment, where participants were told someone in another room was attached to a machine that would deliver electric shocks for every wrong answer they gave to questions. These shocks would be given by the participant. Each time the person attached to the machine got a question wrong, the intensity of the shock would increase. The man conducting the study watched over the participant and told them to deliver the shocks, encouraging them to continue if they hesitated, expressing the importance of doing so. What the participants didn’t know was that the man attached to the machine was never really receiving any electrical shocks. Many of the participants delivered the shocks as told, thinking that the person was really being shocked. The idea behind the study was seeing how people respond to authority and doing something because someone in authority told them to do, even if it meant hurting someone. :O

3130. How did Hitler's army do this and still believe they were good people? There’s another study called the Stanford Prison Experiment where people were assigned to taking on the role of prisoner or guard in a prison setting. The guards began mistreating the prisoners, which showed that otherwise good people can end up abusing their power when it’s given to them. I suppose that’s what happened with those of Hitler’s army who believed they were good people. It’s a mix of both studies in that we see abuse of power and being under/submitting to authority. They believed they were just following orders. 3131. Do you like poetry to rhyme? Yes. 3132. Does 'jewish' describe a race or a religion? Isn’t it both? 3133. How tall are you? About 5′4. 3134. If Hitler was capable of such cruelty to others, and he is human, does that mean that all humans are capable of this cruelty?/ Hitler may have been human, but he was an evil human. A psychopath. 3135. How long have you ever gone without sleep? 36 hours or so. 3136. Is a mouse a miracle? No? 3137. there are alcoholics, chocoholics, shoppoholics, practically anything can be an 'oholic. What's your 'oholic? Coffeeoholic. 3138. Does heaven have aphone number? No. If it did would you call? You don’t need a phone number to talk to God or even loved ones who have passed.

Who would you ask to speak to? What would you say? 3139. Fortune time!! 1,2, 3, or 4? if 1: 5, or 6? if 2: 7 or 8? if 3: 9 or 10? if 4 11 or 12? Now pick a letter between A and G: if A: 13 or 14? if B: 15 or 16? if C or D: 17 or 18? if E or F: 19 or 20? if F: 21 or 22? if G: 22 or 23? --------- you should now have two numbers. look at both numbers below and combine the sayings to get a fortune. 5: you are a very loving person 6: you will become very rich 7: you are too hard on yourself 8: cats will bring you bad luck 9: gremlins will eat all your cheese 10: you are going on a trip 11: someone you don't know will be watching you 12: you will get what you want --- 13. and your life will be filled with romance 14. but you will fall in love with a babboon 15. and salt is lucky for you 16. or you will inherit a cough medicine factory 17. and you will not come back 18. and you will lose the remote 19. or your favorite team will win 20. and you were born under a lucky star 21. but the next person who leave you a note is attracted to you 22. and you will have a stalker soon 23. or your best friend will take you to a movie 3140. Do you vote? Yes. 3141. Are you always honest with yourself? I think I’m pretty realistic and honest with myself for the most part.

Were you honest when you answered that question? Yes. 3142. What kinds of diary names or entry titles make you specifically NOT want to read that diary? 3142. Is writing an online diary more about being honest about yourself or entertaining your readers? I’m really open and honest in these surveys. I’m a little sarcastic and funny at times, too. 3143. What are you the last of? Uhh. 3144. Who do you really appreciate and what have you done lately to show that you appreciate them? I appreciate my mom. I need to show her that more. 3145. When people do good deeds are they really doing them because they are a good person or because they want to feel like a good person? Or both? There are people who truly do good things because that’s just who they are and don’t give it a second thought. Like it just comes natural to them to help others and they don’t expect things in return. Some do things for the reward and what they can get out of it in return. Others do good things because they want to and it makes them feel good. 3146. Somewhere far back in the survey I asked if Bill Gates or Mothe Thereasa was more successful. The most popular answer I have seen is 'it depends on how you define success'. Well, this survey is about YOU isn't it? So how do YOU define success? I thought I answered this already. 3147. Are people making up reality as they go along? Maybe some do? 3148. You may need a calculator for this one. Think of your weight. Divide it by 2.2 multiply the answer by .8 What do you get? 29.09. That is how many grams of protein you need to eat every day to stay healthy. Do you think you eat enough? I need more than that. I’m supposed to be incorporating a lot of protein into my diet. 3149. What is your feeling about republicans? 3150. What do you need to do? Get my shit together. What do you need to stop doing? Not getting my shit together. 3151. If you were to start a club, what club would you start? I wouldn’t. 3152. Are your hands and feet always cold? Not usually. Maybe you have bad circulation. MAyBe YoU hAvE bAd CiRcUlAtIoN. lol. 3153. Have you ever been prank called? Nah. If yes, what was the situation? 3154. Have you ever prank called someone? Yes. If yes, what was the prank? In middle school my friends and I did stupid stuff like that sometimes. We would call businesses, not anyone we knew. 3155. Have you ever gotteen into a conversation with someone when they or you have dialed a wrong number? No. I’m not trying to stay on the phone, especially with someone I don’t know. It’s like, “Sorry wrong number, bye.” 3156. Have you ever just sat alone with no distractions for a whole hour and thought about things? Yes. If yes, does the universe open up when you do this? My mind is too jumbled. It’s a mess up there. 3157. Are you a genius? No. 3158. If you were going to design the PERFECT signifigant other...what flaws would you give them? Uhh. 3159. If you answered NO to 3157, why do you doubt yourself? I’m really just an average gal and I know it. 3160. RARRRR!!! Scared ya, didn't I? Totally. 3161. Do feelings and ideas come from inside the mind or outside in the culture? I think our feelings and ideas that we feel and think come from outside things. 3162. When you have a feeling or an idea: do you trust it? Not always. Even when people are telling you that you are wrong? It really just depends. Even when people are laughing at you for it? 3163. WHAT IS YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME? (YOUR MIDDLE NAME BECOMES YOUR FIRST NAME AND YOUR LAST NAME IS THE NAME OF THE STREET OF THE HOUSE YOU GREW UP IN): Nah. 3164. What is the differance between spirituality and religion? I don’t know to explain it. 3165. What is the speediest way you know of to get over a cold or flu? Nothing. You just gotta ride it out, really. 3166. Who is your favorite comedian? I don’t have one. 3167. What do you think of Winona Ryder's court case? Damn this is old. 3168. What was your last nightmare about? Let’s not think about that. 3169. Who are the people in your neighborhood? People. 3170. During what decade was popular music the most emotional? I don’t know? There’s emotional music in any decade. During what decade was popular music the bes? I like music from various decades. 3171. How did Frederick Douglas, escape slavery against all odds? Didn’t he disguise himself and escape on a train? There were thousands and thousands of slaves around him, why did only he manage to learn to read and write? Some were taught by their masters. 3172. Do you download porn? (be honest!) No. 3173. Why is 'go suck an egg' or 'your grandma sucks eggs!' an insult? I don’t know. 3174. Life is: hard. I am: Tired. I am not: Healthy. But I want to be: Healthy and happy. And I wish I could: Travel. 3175. What is the highest achivement anyone could ever achieve in this department? spiritual: physical: emotional: with their humanity: 3176. Can you give step by step instructioons on how to think deeply? No. 3177. DDid you ever see the Wizard of Oz with the sound all the way down while listening to pink Floyd's The Wall? No...

If yes, did you see what everyone says goes on when you do that? I haven’t heard about that.

3178. Let's say you were writing an application for potential new friends. What three questions would you ask (and what would you want the answers to be)? Nah. 3179. Which two words of the following words goes together the best and why: mullet, brocollii, community, blue, phosphor, hammer, ocean, hand Blue and ocean. 3180. Are you dyslexic? No. 3182. Are you overwhelmed? Yes. By what? Life. 3183. 'My natural elasticity was crushed.' What does that mean? *shrug* 3184. What is humanity evolving towards, do you think? 3185. Are you good at cracking codes? ,t y dsud yp Ftoml upit ,o;l I'll give you a hint. Y really means T. 3186. How many holes do you have in your body (ex. mouth)? Ew holes. 3187. Now there are ads on taxi cab hubcaps. Is there ANY free space LEFT to put more ads onto taxis??? Nope. 3188. What's the worst place to have a scab? Scabs are just gross. 3189. Do you pick your scabs? :X 3190. Who's goin' chicken huntin'? Not me. 3191. post 'it' note: what does 'it' stand for? What you’re posting. 3192. What is a tragedy? A sad event. 3193. Where is guam? Kind of near the Philippines. 3194. Are you bubbly? No. Do you drink bubbly? Nope. 3195. Do you have caller ID? Yeah.

If you do then do you only answer the phone after looking at it? Yeah I always check who’s calling first. 3196. Bewitched or Jeannie? I never got into that. 3197. When will you be able to just do what you want to? My health is a factor, but the biggest thing stopping me is myself. 3198. How do people live with the fact that their time is short and priceless yet they get paid too little to waste too much of it? I don’t know, man. 3199. OOGA! Make your best cave-pperson sound! 3200. Who tells better gossip, your best friend or your answering machine? Not sure what gossip my answering machine is doing.

[kingsleychizzard]

The odds against me

Please note: this is what happens when I get dared to make a bet with Sallie (Corn Puff) & lose that bet. Sallie had me make this. I'm sorry & it's a fem reader insert. Anyone who hates a certain villain with a sweet tooth, turn away. That being said........... yes, it is a reader x Count Olaf........ I'm sorry.....

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

You were a rather bright & cheerful woman. You were excellent with comforting crying babies & had a sharp mind. You were (y/n) (y/l/n), a neighborhood sweetheart. You recently moved & lived right next to justice Strauss. Your new neighborhood seemed lovely, except for one house. Directly across from justice Strauss was a run down mansion that had an aura of dread surrounding its gray walls. One day, you noticed 3 children with Mr Poe at the front door of that awful place. A few minutes later, a tall man opened the door.

He seemed so odd to you. His clothes seemed overused & dirty, he was pale & looked dirty. He seemed worse than his house. You didn't wanna seem nosy, but you wanted to know who this man was & see why 3 children were being brought to his house. You started to walk across the street.

“Um... hello.” you gently called out. All 5 people turned towards you.

“Good afternoon, (y/n).” Mr Poe greeted. You faced the others & got an odd look from the tall man.

“I don't recall receiving a midget.” he said. You gave him a cold look. You were short, but that doesn't excuse his rudeness (you’re 5 feet tall in this).

“I may be short, but that was just rude. I'll have you know I'm also fully grown. I'm 25 years old.” you replied. You were frustrated, but your tone was gentle.

“Hello, miss (y/n). I'm Klaus. These are my sisters, Violet & Sunny.” the young boy spoke up. You smiled, unaware that the tall man's eyes glistened at your actions.

“Well, aren't you a cute little bunch? You seem like a very intelligent young man, I love your glasses also. Your sisters are beautiful as well. Can I please hold the baby for a few minutes?” you said. You were handed the baby who you later discovered was the one named Sunny. The kids seemed to have already developed a liking towards you.

“I don't recall your name being mentioned. You're not very good with first impressions, however. Try not to be offensively obvious next time.” you said while facing the tall man.

“I'm Count Olaf. A renowned actor & the new guardian of these orphans.” he replied. You felt bad about the kids being orphans. You just hoped Olaf would turn out to be a decent guardian.

“Well, it was nice meeting all of you. I have to get going now.” you smiled as you gave Sunny back to Violet before walking away. Olaf watched you walk for a few seconds until he snapped out of it & took the children inside.

A few days later (just seconds after the pasta incident)~

You had a feeling something bad was happening at Olaf's rundown mansion. You decided to visit. You knocked on the door & heard footsteps. A man with hooks for hands opened the door.

“Are the children here?” you asked. He gave you an odd look before you pushed past him. He called out to you & said the kids were in their room. After wandering around for a few minutes, you found their room. You opened the door to find horrible conditions & Klaus crying a bit.

“Oh dear children! What happened?” you cried out. The kids looked up at you & Klaus ran up to give you a hug as his tears fell.

“Olaf slapped Klaus across the face.” Violet stated. You gasped & tilted his head up & noticed a bruise. You hugged Klaus before your blood boiled with anger. You told the children to come with you & found Olaf in his living room with his guests. They all turned to look at you.

“You senseless creature! How dare you mistreat these darling children! I don't care if you are their new guardian, I'm taking these kids with me! You idiot!” you shouted in Olaf's face before slapping him. Everyone gasped, you were much smaller than him & you nearly made him fall. You told the Baudelaires to pack their things & left the room while giving Olaf an icy, evil glare.

1 hour later~

You smiled as you played truth or dare with the Baudelaire children. You were so happy to have them with you instead of with Count Olaf.

“Dare!” Klaus said. Violet told him to act like a monkey & you all laughed. Klaus was slightly embarrassed, but having fun nonetheless. You suddenly heard a knock at the door. You tell the kids to keep playing as you answered the door.

You opened it &, to your surprise, saw Olaf. Your shocked expression turned into a sinister snarl. You noticed his eyes were actually dull & he seemed under the weather.

“What could you possibly want?” you snapped. He seemed to stutter a bit, like he didn't know what to say. He was blushing as well. Was he nervous or embarrassed?

“Well?” you said in a calmer tone. He looked down into your (e/c) eyes, making you gaze up at his icy blue eyes. He took a deep breath & sighed.

“W-why did you do that? In front of my troupe. You made me actually feel guilty. But... um... I'm here for the children. They were put into my care.... uh.... not yours.” he said.

“Must not be very much care since you're a horrible person. What makes you think that I'd let you take them after all the things you've done?” you glared at him again.

“Listen, I don't have much money, I don't really have an experience with children, & I've been...... thinking about what you said to me.” he gulped & looked away. You at first thought he was lying, but he did seem nervous.

You grabbed his hand & noticed he was shaking a bit. You looked up & saw him giving you a look of fear & curiosity. He requested at least to say something to them. You allowed it, but you were still on to him. The Baudelaires looked up with frightful looks as you both entered the living room.

“I’m sorry... orph- ah.... Baudelaires. I honestly am. Your friend made me have second thoughts. I nearly cried for half an hour. But I only cried for 5 minutes. If you want to stay with (y/n), you can.” Olaf said before seemingly about to cry before he ran out of the house, covering his mouth.

“What was that all about?” Violet spoke up afterwards. You shrugged & actually started feeling sad for the crazy man. You said you'd be back & left out the door. You walked up to Count Olaf's house & knocked. He opened the door a little bit before gasping.

You noticed his eyes were puffy & his nose was red. You could tell he'd been crying. He tried to close the door before you caught it. He didn't wanna look you in the eye. You could tell he was scared of you.

“Did you really mean all those things you said?” you asked in a gentle voice. He nodded before more tears fell down his face. You couldn't take the guilt & stepped inside to hug him. He seemed very hesitant.

“Hey, it's ok.” you said in a hushed voice. He suddenly seemed to break & fell to his knees, crying out. You got on your knees & hugged him again, tears welling up in your own eyes. You suddenly started crying too.

“W-wait.... am.... am I...... making you..... sad?” he asked. You nodded while trying to wipe the tears from your eyes. This time, he hugged you. His chin rested on your head as he tried to comfort you.

“Please don't cry.” he whispered. You looked up at him before giving him a kiss on the cheek. He stood up & told you to tell the Baudelaires that he was sorry before walking off to another room.

You walked back into your house & told the children everything except for the kiss. The kids seemed to notice an actual change of heart from where this is going & decided they might as well return to Olaf.

A few days later (day of the play)~

You couldn't believe it. Count Olaf turned back to his bitter ways. This whole “play” was so he could steal their fortune. You couldn't believe after all the mercy & kindness you showed him, he'd do this. You were standing backstage with Violet, apologizing deeply for everything.

“It’s not your fault, (y/n). It's his fault.” she whispered as she hugged you. Her cue was up, so you let her go. You felt a pain in your heart as tears started falling down your face. You seemed so miserable that when you looked up, they were already doing the wedding vows. You couldn't look.

You suddenly heard something drop followed by a loud thud. You turned around to see Olaf nearly crippling under sadness. You were super confused until he spoke.

“I can't do it! This play was supposed to be an actual marriage so I could get the Baudelaire fortune. But, I..... I just can't do it! All these memories came flooding back. When I first had a change of heart, it was because she opened my eyes, & I just decided to SHUT THEM! I'm so very sorry, Violet. Please, take your siblings & go to wherever you were supposed to originally go before I tried to adopt you since you became orphans.” Olaf cried.

Confused murmurs rose above the crowd as Violet & Strauss slowly walked backstage. You ran out to Olaf & put a hand on his shoulder. He slightly tilted his head to look up at you. He paused to pull out a walkie-talkie.

“Please gently bring the baby down.” He stammered a bit. He put the walkie-talkie on the ground & sat up. He didn't look you in the eye anymore, but he told you to go away & that he was a monster. Your eyes started watering.

“Olaf, please don't cry.” you gently cooed, being reminiscent of the time you were comforting each other. He looked up this time. He put a hand to your face & gently ran his thumb down your temple. He wheezed out an apology & hugged you.

You hugged him back & tried to make him feel better. You noticed everyone was ignoring you guys. Mr Poe was talking to his secretary & the Baudelaires were saying goodbye to Strauss. Everyone else seemed to just be muttering things or leaving. Olaf suddenly tilted your head up to his & kissed you.

He quickly pulled away, but you gave him a light, passionate kiss. You couldn't believe you were actually in love with a split personality psycho, but he seemed to be on the road to improvement.

“I love you, (y/n).” he said, beginning to smile sweetly.

[escapedartgeek]

2 4 6 8 10

in a relationship : does my muse believe in sex before marriage?

Zora isn't opposed to sex before marriage. Just because they aren't really motivated towards marriage as a whole - it would take a while for them to be serious about the idea of marriage.

As for sex, because it's just another way of showing affection for someone they like - they're certainly open to it. But it's not..the endgoal. They have been happy in relationships without sex, they've also been content having sex with people too.

It can go either way with them.

in a relationship : how does my muse feel about long-distance relationships? have they ever been in one?

Zora these days, isn't opposed to the idea of a long-distance relationship just because it may not be that long when they can more or less find time to visit their partner whenever suits the two of them. Although they do like the idea of just being in the area with someone they like more regularly.

They have been in one notable long-distance relationship during their college years. Although it didn't really last just because their girlfriend at the time got very busy and ended up .. just moving on to finish her education and dig into her career more deeply.

dating : what is my muses worst date experience?

Zora's worst date experience was some time in their early twenties because they were still hiding a lot of themselves from people. And it was a wonder that they went on dates at all during this time. But there was this person who was a friend of a collaborator .. who insisted on getting the chance to go out with them. And Z had reluctantly agreed to be set up as a favor to the collaborator.

The moment that they arrived at the date, it was .. a disaster truly. Got misread a lot, dealt with the sheer arrogant and condescending attitude of the person. There was a lot of awful jokes, mistreatment of the waiter that they were at.

It was enough for have zora make some very sharp comments at him before leaving him, and blocking him, blocking the friend who had set them up with him. And just kind of.. distancing themselves from everyone involved because they were that pissed off about it.

dating : does my muse have a type? if so, what is it?

Zora's type is generally weird. Like the older that they get, the less likely they are to try and be 'normal-ish' for anyone. They got tired of that and refuse to bother with it.

So like.. they have to be with someone who can handle the stranger aspects of their life. So weird. Weird is their type. Gotta have something unusual going on about your life one way or another.

Obviously traits the actually like are thoughtfulness, kindness, creativity, playfulness, open-mindedness, a certain amount of adventurousness every now and then, reflective and self-aware.

As for physical features - they like a nice smile, they pay attention to people's hands, um. they do appreciate style in someone but that can be just bold choices that a person can rock with unapologetic-ally.

But there are multiple ways that can be present itself in a person.

dating : what is my muses pre-date routine? (outfit, scent, music, mantra, etc.)

Pre-date - Zora usually plays some music that makes them feel a bit more confident, gets them in the space to go out and have a good time. They spend some time planning out an outfit as they listen to their music before putting it on. No specific mantra or anything. But they do occasionally text someone to let someone know where they are going for the evening just in case.

[theslayersblog]

Slayers novel 1 chapter 2

Caught Between a Rock and a Red Priest

I awoke in what, judging by the colorful smashed glass and statuary, must have been an abandoned church. It was filthy, and it smelled bad. Hanging by bound hands from a ceiling hook in an unfamiliar (and stinky) environment, with a throbbing headache and my enemy staring me down? Not my favorite way to greet the day. It beat not waking up at all, I guess, but just barely.

Of course, the headache wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was somewhere in the vicinity of my wounded pride—that stung horribly.

Zelgadiss stood with his arms folded, sizing me up for something awful, I was certain. Zolf, the mummy man, was there too—along with poor, pathetic Dilgear the dork-wolf and a guy I hadn’t seen before… who was a fish. No, seriously, he was a fish.

You know those things that live in the water? A fish. Fish plus guy equals fishguy. And fishguy made Dilgear look downright handsome by comparison.

Ever run into fish people before? No? Okay, there are essentially two families: Lagon and Gillman. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what distinguishes one family from the other, but I do know that most of the fish people you run into are humanoid with scales, and a fair number of them have fins. They’re also a foul-tempered bunch. But I suppose I’d be nasty, too, if I smelled like a fish. (Oh hey, I think I just figured out where that stink in the church was coming from.)

Now, this particular fishguy was more fish than guy. His body was thin and long. He had two huge fish eyes on either side of his head, which really was not so much a head as an extension of his body, since he hadn’t gone to the trouble of growing a neck. He looked like a flounder with arms and legs. How would you like to wake up to that? At least I didn’t see the old guy around anywhere.

“Not so quick with a quip, now are you?” asked Zelgadiss. It was a rhetorical question.

I hate you, you horrible bastard. Does that count as a quip?

“You should thank Zolf. He’s the one who spared your life. Or, rather, he was the one who most desperately wanted to kill you but fought valiantly to contain his passions.”

“Thanks, Zolf. I owe you one.” I would’ve winked but my face hurt. I managed a smile. Kind of.

“Watch your mouth, you little—!” That was Zolf.

“Little what? C’mon Zolf, take your best shot.”

“Too bad about your boyfriend running off and abandoning you,” said Dilgear, obviously trying to help his buddy out.

“Yeah… too bad,” I replied. My boyfriend?

Zelgadiss sighed and said, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d trust your companion with the object. As it turns out, it’s good for you that you did. We’ll have to keep you alive as bait.”

“Uh, we’ll have to what?” Dilgear blubbered.

“This girl does not have the object.”

“What?” Everyone gasped all at once—everyone, that is, except Zelgadiss and me.

“How can you tell?”

Zelgadiss turned and looked at Dilgear like he was an idiot. Because, well… he was an idiot. “Do you see the statue anywhere, Dilgear?”

Now, don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like I was hanging there naked: I was wearing what I normally wear, minus the sword and mantle. I couldn’t hide a statue without looking like I had at least a sandwich under there.

Dilgear walked around me, looking over my body. Ew.

“Huh. Maybe she swallowed it?” He smiled an idiotic smile. Because, well… he was idiotic.

“I was unable to detect the Orihalcon on him during battle. How did you manage to shield that?” Zelgadiss queried.

“I stuck a protection spell on it.”

“Protection spell?”

“It cancels out search spells. The statue can’t be detected, even from the astral plane.”

“Kudos. Well done.” Zelgadiss sounded impressed.

“Thanks.”

What did he expect? Jeez. These people have no faith in me.

“You didn’t use anything that impressive during our battle.”

“I was holding back.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“You’re not a fool. Do you expect me to… ?” Then he figured it out. “Oh, I see. That time of the month, then?”

“Piss off!” I reddened. Am I wearing a sign that says, “I’m on my period. Please let’s discuss”?

“Well, in any case, we’ll need to keep you alive until your companion turns up,” he said. “Zolf, do what you like with her, but don’t kill her.”

Do what you like with her?

Zolf smiled. My stomach turned.

Oh this is just great…

“Sweetheart,” Zolf cooed in a voice that gave my goose bumps goose bumps. “I believe we have established that you owe me your life, and I intend to be repaid. Now, where shall we begin, hmmm… ?” He eyed me up and down.

Oh, good. He’s a psychopath. What exactly did I do to deserve an invitation to this party… ?

“Mr. Zolf… sir?”

“Yes?” he purred, pleased with my newfound respect.

I looked at him rather meekly and whispered, “I just… I just want to—”

“If you want to beg for forgiveness, save it.”

“It’s not that,” I said, lowering my voice even more. “I just want to say that I think you’re…”

“What? Speak up!”

“I’m embarrassed,” I whispered. “I’m young and not very experienced with men. I just want to say that I think you’re… “

“What? You think I’m what? Handsome?” he leaned in closer to hear me.

“Third-rate.“ I said, in a voice as clear as church bells. Gotcha. Sucker.

The room exploded with laughter. Everyone except Zolf was howling. Zelgadiss tried to hide his mirth by shielding his mouth with his fist, but his quivering shoulders gave him away. What can I say? I’m a funny girl.

I wasn’t laughing at my own joke in part because, well, that’s just tacky. But also because—zinger or no zinger—I was tied up, and Zolf still had the upper hand. I expected him to explode, but he just glared, which was worse.

Well, that’s terrifying.

There was a long uncomfortable pause after the laughter died down. Finally, Zolf smiled. “Dilgear…” he called to the wolf/troll/ man/ thug.

“Yeah, Zolf?” Dilgear answered.

“Kiss her.”

“WHAAAAA ?!”

Everyone turned to see where the scream came from. It came from Dilgear. The wolf… thing was apparently more grossed out at the prospect of sucking face than I was.

Now that’s not exactly the kind of ego boost a girl needs.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” He sounded like he might puke.

“What? Do I ever kid? I’m serious,” Zolf answered, annoyed.

“But… she’s human! And she’s plain! And she’s a kid, Zolf. She’s not… developed, you know what I’m saying? I mean, I like women-women, you know? Like, maybe a hot little cyclops, or… oh! do you remember that goblin chick we met that one time? Remember her? Now, that was a woman. I mean she had a set, right? Not like—”

Oh, just kill me.

“Zolf,” Zelgadiss spoke. “Dilgear would prefer not to assist you with this particular task.”

A human male would’ve had the same reaction if asked to kiss a wolf chick, right? I mean, unless he were weird and into body hair or whatever. I mean, it’s not me being rejected here, it’s my genus. It’s not my fault he’s not attracted to women outside his species. Wait, goblins are outside his species…

“Hmph, Nunsa then!” Zolf was pointing at the fishguy. “You kiss her!”

“Me?” he asked. It’s a very weird thing to see a fish talk.

“Kiss her!”

“You wish for me to engage the human girl romantically?”

                        “Yes, kiss her! What else would you—never mind, I don’t want to know. Just kiss her!”

The fish fellow’s lack of enthusiasm was frustrating Zolf as much as it was hurting my feelings.

“Very well.”

“Wait—no!” This time I was doing the screaming. I would rather have gnawed my arm off at the shoulder than shake the fishguy’s hand. Kiss him? It was too horrible to contemplate.

“Yes! Do it! Lay one on her. Lock those fish lips on her like she’s bait, my good man!” Zolf was a one-man cheerleading squad.

Nunsa’s webbed feet made wet, slurping noises as he approached.

“No! Stay away from me! Stop it!”

“You are a very lucky human girl,” Nunsa assured me. “I am the most popular potential mate in my school. The smartest, the handsomest…” His fish whiskers wiggled.

“Oh, my god! Seriously? Where do you go to school?”

“Cry! Whimper! Beg me for mercy! Suffer as I have suffered!” Zolf certainly was enjoying himself.

Oh god…

Nunsa moved in close, “Now then…” His voice took on a peculiar tone. I was too horrified to reply. “Let us begin.”

No one understood exactly what Nunsa meant. Or, considering the nauseating possibilities, particularly wanted to.

“Is there a problem?” the fish man questioned the delay

“Um…” Dilgear wondered aloud, “Nunsa, what do you mean?”

Fishguy turned one eye and looked at the wolf.

“I am waiting for the eggs,” he said, as though that would make sense to anyone.

“I believe,” Zelgadiss theorized, “something about the word ‘kiss’ may have gotten lost in translation.”

I’d come to the same conclusion as Zelgadiss, which just added insult to injury.

Zolf looked completely lost.

“Nunsa, how do your people mate?” Zelgadiss inquired.

“Females lay eggs. Males fertilize the eggs. Then, some fifteen days later, there are babies.”

Figures. Their females don’t want to touch them either.

“Oh.” Zolf seemed disappointed. “You couldn’t have said something before?”

“Said something about what?” asked a bewildered Nunsa.

“Oh, never mind, ‘‘ Zolf said in an attempt to drop the subject.

“Zolf, I have an idea,” declared Dilgear.

Oh, this’ll be good.

“Get Rodimus. He’s a human, like her.”

“First of all, that’s not going to be as punishingly awful, now is it? Secondly, Rodimus thinks he’s a knight. He won’t mistreat a girl merely at my request. You know, chivalry and all that rot,” said Zelgadiss in opposition to Dilgear’s suggestion.

This Rodimus has to be the old guy.

“The girl is responsible for my condition. I will have vengeance,” whined Zolf.

“Maybe it’s time to let it go, Zolf?” prodded Zelgadiss.

“No, not yet.” His gaze drifted to Zelgadiss.

“Zolf,” Zelgadiss put an end to the discussion. “I have no interest in making little girls cry.”

“I know, but…” Zolf was nearly in tears. I actually started to feel bad for him.

Hey, don’t cry! It’s going to be all right. You’ll heal up! And how many times do I have to keep telling you people, I’m not a little kid!

“I have no choice…” It looked as if Zolf finally got the hint.

“… I’ll have to handle this myself,” Zolf concluded. I guess he didn’t get the hint.

“Now, then…” Zolf reached into his pocket and brought forth a giant handkerchief.

“W-what’s that for?” I freaked.

Zolf walked around behind me, where I couldn’t see.

“It’s for little girls who don’t know when to shut up!” he said, as he reached around and stuffed the handkerchief into my mouth.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed, walking around to face me again. “Don’t have much to say now, do you?”

“Well then,” Zolf stretched his mouth into an unpleasant smile and began, “You are a runt.“

Mmrmfph!”

“And a cow.“

“Mmmrugmf!”“

“You are a flat-chested runt cow… who is narcissistic.” He was having fun now, enunciating every epithet as though it tasted sweet on his tongue. “You are a shrew. Your eyes are too big for your face and it makes you look funny.” He went on, and on.

How dare he! If I didn’t have a tablecloth shoved in my mouth, I’d bury him! What’s not to insult? For starters, he’s a big old freak who can’t let go of a grudge. Besides the mummy business (and god only knows what’s under those bandages!)—he’s got teeny-tiny feet and he’s all bowlegged! Where does he get off insulting my proportions?!

“I believe you’ve just about covered it,” Zelgadiss said, sounding bored. “How much longer do you insist on prolonging this childish nonsense?”

“Until I feel revenged.” Zolf’s face reddened.

“Mmrpf! Mmmrumpfer! Mfumpfuu, muumrufferffuffer!” I couldn’t take it any longer. I was trying to tell him that I was going to kill him as soon as I had the chance, but all I managed to get out against the gag was, “Mmrpf!”

“How does it feel, being helpless?! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

One day, I will feed you those words.

Eventually, Zolf wore himself out, and he and the others went to find food and make arrangements for the night. The sun made its way across the sky until all that was left was a single ray of light colored bright orange by the remaining bits of window it passed through. Then that light faded, cloaking me in darkness, save for the faintest glimmers of starlight. My wrists hurt, my jaw hurt, and I was very, very tired. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep.

I awoke with a start, to the sound of someone entering the room.

“Be quiet…” Zelgadiss whispered.

Why would Zelgadiss be sneaking around in here? Isn’t he in charge… ? I still had a gag in my mouth so I pretty much had to be quiet. I waited, not understanding.

A white light flashed above me and I fell to the floor. Ouch.

“Your sword and mantle.”

“Eh?” Zelgadiss pulled the cloth from my mouth. No mistake—those were my things. “Why?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Do you wish to escape, or not?”

I nodded silently and took my gear.

“Follow me.”

I followed behind Zelgadiss, as quietly as possible. It occurred to me that this might be a trap, but even a trap was better than being suspended from that ceiling another night at the mercy of Zolf.

Outside, patches of moonlight illuminated a thick, dark forest beside the dilapidated structure. A stone path led from the church into the woods.

“Hurry!” Zelgadiss said.

“Wait…” I hesitated.

This was a little too convenient. I’ve always been a firm believer in the adage, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

“The situation’s changed,” he shot back urgently. “We have to go now!”

“All right.” I made the decision to trust him for the time being. We ran along the path into the forest. Then… we stopped.

Something crimson emerged from the darkness to block the forest path. From behind, I heard Zelgadiss mutter under his breath, “Rezo.”

The Red Priest stood before us.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Zelgadiss?” Rezo asked. “You’ve followed orders admirably up until now… but this? This is an act of treason.”

“Then I am a traitor!” Zelgadiss yelled. His voice was desperate. He was clearly afraid.

“I cannot do this any more!”

“Oh, is that so?” Rezo asked quietly. “I’m very sorry to hear That.” He seemed an entirely different person than he was at our first meeting. And I couldn’t read his thoughts at all.

“You’re turning against me, then? Have you forgotten that I made you? I blessed you with your power…”

He wha—huh?

“Blessed me?” Zelgadiss broke in. “I will admit, Lord Rezo, that I wanted power. But I never asked to become a chimera! I never wanted… this“

“One has to be willing to make sacrifices, pet. And I gave you what you asked for, in the most direct way possible. If you had something else in mind, you ought to have specified. In any case, I won’t tolerate impudence. This ends here.”

Zelgadiss grunted. He moved suddenly, circling behind me and grabbing hold.

“Hey! W-what the—?” We began to move forward like that.

Rezo grinned, amused. “Do you intend to use that girl as a shield? Fool, do you presume I have guilt about going through her to get to you?”

“No, I don’t!” Zelgadiss’ voice was quivering now. He compensated for the fear it betrayed by raising the volume. Right in my ear.

“Using the girl as a shield won’t help me much, which is why I’m not making her my shield.…”

He raised my body high in the air. Oh, no—he wouldn’t!

“Yaaaah!”

“… I’m making her my arrow!“

He did!

Zelgadiss launched my body toward Rezo the same way you’d hurl a ball in shot put! Even as I sped through the air toward certain injury, I had to hand it to him: It was an impressive strategy.

Rezo was surprised, of course, but he managed to sidestep the assault, which left me fast approaching lip-lock with a tree. It looked like I was going to get a kiss after all.

I flailed my limbs in midair in a vain attempt to alter my direction, or slow myself down… or something. It didn’t do much.

I hit the tree with an audible splat, my limbs flailing around, grabbing the tree like a cornered money.

Ow. My nose!

“Mom always said I’d wind up a worthless tree-hugger.” Even dizzy with pain, I could try to be a good one.

“We don’t have time for jokes!” Zelgadiss caught up and managed to get me down from the tree. With a flying sorceress as a distraction, he’d been able to blast past Rezo unharmed.

Just then, several fireballs detonated behind us. “Those should buy us enough time to lose him.”

“Gently!” I shrieked, as Zelgadiss heaved me over his shoulder and sprinted.

“Complain later!” he shot back, scattering still more fireballs and taking us straight into the darkness.

* * *

“I think we’ve lost him,” Zelgadiss sighed, letting himself breathe at last. We’d been running for most of the night and had finally come to rest near a waterfall inside the forest. The roar of the falls camouflaged our voices, allowing us to speak without worrying about being heard. I had to hand it to Zelgadiss—the guy had formidable energy reserves. He’d spent the bulk of the last several hours running while carrying me. All I’d done was feel my wrists ache and my nose throb.

Shortly, the sun would threaten to make its way over the horizon.

“My nose hurts,” I whined.

“Well then, quit picking at it,” he said.

“Not funny.” I stuck my tongue out at him and leaned back against the river rocks. The cool stones felt good. As fighters go, my size gives me better-than-average speed and explosiveness, but that’s offset by my lack of strength and endurance. I needed some sleep… badly. But morning was coming soon, and there wasn’t any time.

“Go ahead,” Zelgadiss said, watching my eyes droop. “We’re safe here, and we could both use a little rest. I’ll close my eyes, too.” Perfect!

“You’d be ill-advised to take off on your own while I’m asleep.”

Crap. Busted.

“You’re right. I’m tired, and my magic hasn’t fully recovered yet,” I reasoned aloud.

“So, that means it should recover soon?” he responded hopefully.

“It should. Look, I’ll give you my word I’m not going to take off without you while you’re asleep, okay? In exchange, before we nod off, you’re going to answer a few questions for me.”

Zelgadiss flashed a strained smile. “I suppose that’s fair. You’re deeply involved in this mess now; you have a right to know. Very well, where would you like me to begin?”

“Let’s start with the guy who calls himself Rezo the Red Priest—”

“Ah, so he’d already made contact with you?”

“Yeah, and I had a weird feeling about him. Who is he really?”

Zelgadiss shrugged. “He is the man he claims to be. He is the authentic Rezo the Red Priest. However, he’s not the man the world knows him to be. Perhaps, a long time ago, he was…”

“I don’t understand. How could he be the total opposite of what the whole world thinks?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people believe what they want to believe. Do you understand the significance of the object he seeks?”

“Time out. Just so we’re clear here: He’s the one who wants to revive Shabranigdu the Dark Lord, and not you, right?”

Zelgadiss obviously didn’t understand my question. “Shabranigdu? What are you talking about?”

“Um… well, he said—”

“The object he desires is known by a great many names, but the most famous is the ‘Philosopher’s Stone.’”

Eeep! I was speechless.

“Th-the Philosopher’s Stone… ? Then… he, he could …”

Zelgadiss nodded.

“The Philosopher’s Stone is contained within the goddess statue that you briefly possessed.”

The Philosopher’s Stone… heard of it? You probably have. There’s not a single practitioner of sorcery who does not know of it and wonder at its legendary power. It is said to be a relic of advanced sorcery from a lost civilization, or,

alternatively a fragment of the Divine Staff that supports the world. The only thing known for certain about it is that it amplifies magic. Like, a gazillion-fold. Each rumored appearance of the Philosopher’s Stone has profoundly affected the course of human history. It’s believed that even an apprentice sorcerer in possession of the stone could wipe out an entire kingdom. Though it is a near myth, elder sorcerers insist that it’s real.

And, I’d actually held it in my hands!

“B-but, what does he want to do with it?” Even if the legends of Rezo’s goodness were exaggerated, the extent of his powers wasn’t. On his own, they were astounding, but with the stone… he claims he has no plans to conquer the world,” Zelgadiss replied. “He says he simply wants to see it.”

“He wants to see it… ?”

“Yes. As the stories say, Rezo was born blind. He began to learn White Magic for the sole purpose of opening his own eyes.

“Once he mastered White Magic, he traveled the world, visiting other sages, helping many people along he way. But, while he could heal the eyes of others, for some reason he was unable to heal his own. He began to wonder why his efforts were inadequate. So he studied Black Magic and then Shamanic Magic, hoping that they would provide him with sufficient power. He was talented and driven and he mastered these mystic traditions well. And still, his eyes would not open. Only one means remained.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone, which he probably wasn’t even sure existed.”

Zelgadiss nodded.

“Then… I don’t understand. Why stop him from getting the stone? What’s the harm in him acquiring vision?’’

“There may not be any. But my objective is vengeance. For that, I require the Philospher’s Stone. I am nowhere near powerful enough to defeat him on my own.”

“Rezo’s that powerful?”

He nodded silently. So, this was all about Zelgadiss refusing to be a pawn. Of course, I’d feel the same way.

“So, he… he is the one who did this to you?” I said, referring to his rocky skin.

“Yes. On that day, he told me he was granting me power so that I could assist him in his quest for the stone. And I… foolishly, accepted. I did not understand what he intended to do.”

“How did you know him?”

Zelgadiss’ mood changed as I posed the question. He broke out in self-derisive laughter. “I’ve known him since I was born. He is, it would seem, either my grandfather or my great-grandfather. I’m not sure which, and I don’t really want to find out.”

“For real?”

“I suppose he doesn’t look his age, but he was born over a century ago. In any case, the blood of the famous (or infamous, depending upon your perspective) Rezo the Red Priest does flow through my veins.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry I asked.”

Well, this is awkward. I gingerly rubbed my nose with a fingertip.

“It’s all right,” he said, not laughing anymore.

The weight of our conversation hung unbearably heavy in the air. How do you change the subject after something like that? So, how about this weather, huh?

“All right, well, I get the gist of it now, and I appreciate you filling me in,” I said, trying to sound chipper. “Let’s try to get some sleep,” I added, lying down on my side.

Ah, that’s the good stuff…

I looked over at Zelgadiss, who still stood upright. “Aren’t you going to sleep? You’re tired too, right?”

“I suppose, but I’ll stand watch for now,” he said. “I’ll wake you up after a while, and we’ll trade places.”

“That’s fine. Good night.” I closed my eyes. As tired as I was, it didn’t take long before…

* * *

I awoke, as I always seem to awaken—with a jolt.

I was certain I hadn’t slept for more than a few hours. I could tell from the position of the sun, and the extent to which my body had recovered.

The thirst for battle poisoned the air and penetrated my sleep. It wasn’t coming from one or two people. I figured it to be emanating from as many as ten, maybe more. Normally, I could be more precise about the number, but I was tired and groggy, and my magic was still on the fritz. Whatever the specifics, the enemy outnumbered us.

“We’ve been surrounded,” Zelgadiss said quickly. He didn’t bother lowering his voice. They already knew where we were, so what was the point?

“By whom?”

“Twenty or thirty trolls. Rezo’s not with them. We’ll manage.” He sounded unconcerned. I, on the other hand, was somewhat less than confident.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice you was gone, did you? We gotta settle this, boss.”

Recognizing the voice, I rose to my feet, spotting trolls attempting to conceal themselves in trees.

“Well hello, Dilgear! Fancy meeting you all the way out here,” I shouted to the trees. “Why don’t you come out of there? Show yourself and greet me properly We’ll reminisce about old times. It’ll be peachy.”

The wolf-thing dropped from a tree much closer than I’d expected.

“You remembered my name,” he said, sounding sincerely flattered. That was weird.

“Like I could forget you!” I answered, staring him straight in the snout. “Aren’t you the one who found me so repulsive that you’d rather make out with a goat? Or was it a goblin? That’s right. You probably eat goats. Goats are for eating, goblins are for swapping spit. There was something about a cyclops, too, wasn’t there? Well, I can certainly understand

why you’d favor a gal who couldn’t see too well, you know what I’m saying? Then again, what do I know? Apparently, I wish I were as hot as a cyclops. My skin’s rougher than a rock golem’s; I’m smaller than a pixie; really, I’m just an underdeveloped little—”

“Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t go that far.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because Zelgadiss is gonna kick your butt for insulting me, you’ll see! Go, Zelgadiss! The world is waiting for you! Show ‘em what you’ve got! Get ‘em!”

“Go on, now, we’re waiting!”

“Sic ‘em!”

“What… do you think you’re doing?” Zelgadiss was staring at me, arms crossed, a quizzical look on his face.

“Me?” I looked back at him, just as perplexed. It wasn’t as if I were going off on Dilgear just for fun—no, it wasn’t!—it was strategic! I was attacking the enemy’s morale.

Seriously!

“Dilgear, did you not swear an oath of loyalty to me?” Zelgadiss’ voice took on a surpassingly menacing tone.

The wolf-thing balked. “I didn’t swear loyalty to Zelgadiss,” he replied. “I swore to the berserker that Rezo the Red Priest created. I checked! The moment you betrayed Lord Rezo, you became my enemy, and I was relieved of any obligation to you!” Apparently, it’s in the manual.

“Oh, really?” Zelgadiss’ eyes narrowed. He certainly looked like a berserker.

“Do you really think you can take me? You measly dimwitted, half-breed, pathetic excuse for a wolf—” Wow. Remind me to stay on Zelgadiss’ good side from now on.

“Half-breed, is it? Has it come to that? All right, if that’s the way you want to play it, boss, I’ll show you what a stupid half-breed like me can do… Get ‘emmmmm!” Dilgear bellowed, and a phalanx of armed trolls charged straight at us.

Oh, holy crap.

A subtle smile appeared on Zelgadiss’ lips as he raised his right hand. I couldn’t see what he was gripping, but I could feel the earth starting to move.

“Dug Haut!” he shouted.

“Wah!” I rushed to his side and held on tight. The earth pulsed. It began to quiver and quake, and undulate like the surface of the ocean during a storm.

The trolls began to panic.

“Haaa!” Zelgadiss shook his right hand violently, a maniacal grin spread across his face. “Earth! Obey my will!”

Rocks and soil heeded Zelgadiss’ command. The undulating ground transformed into countless stalagmites, bursting through the surface and impaling the trolls wherever they stood.

Game over.

As great as their regenerative abilities were, their troll bodies failed to heal around the spikes, while the effort was wearing out their life forces fast. Their powers fading; they would surely die soon.

Not a good way to go, if you ask me. Then again, considering my stunt with the reversed recovery spell back at the inn, I wasn’t in any position to judge.

“Now then,” Zelgadiss retained his smile as he spoke. “You were saying… ? Something about how you’d show me what you could do… ? What can you do, Dilgear? Play board games… ? Defeat me at the game, Go?“

“Hmph,” Dilgear grumped from atop one of the stone spikes. He had managed to avoid impalement, but was clinging on for dear life. “I’m not impressed, you know. Real warriors don’t have to rely on stupid magic tricks.”

“Stupid magic tricks?” Zelgadiss was incredulous. “That was no trick, Dilgear. I moved the earth for you. What is it that you’re suggesting? That you could defeat me by the blade?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Dilgear grinned.

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” Zelgadiss drew his sword smoothly.

“You won’t cheat and ambush me with magic?” Dilgear had not drawn his own sword yet.

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Dilgear promised, after hitting the ground and then rising to his feet. As he got back on

his feet, he drew the sword off his back. Its blade was huge and curved, and it gave off a fiendish light.

It was some sort of super-sized scimitar, the equal of which Td never seen. I retreated a little, agape at the sheer size of the thing.

“Arrrrrhh!” Dilgear let out an animalistic roar as he charged.

Zelgadiss leapt. He met the werewolf head-on. Their blades crossed, sparks flying. Though the smaller of the two, Zelgadiss began to force the wolf-thing back, bit-by-bit.

“What’s the matter, Dilgear? We’re sword-to-sword now. Like real warriors. Shouldn’t you be defeating me handily?”

“We’re just getting started here, boss!” Dilgear growled, changing the scimitar’s angle slightly, which forced Zelgadiss’ wrist and broadsword in the other direction.

The broadsword’s blade slid a short way before the scimitar Hashed out and caught Zelgadiss’ robe, cutting it open and revealing his chest.

“Not bad,” Zelgadiss complimented Dilgear.

“Thanks, boss. I’m going to hate to have to kill you, you know.”

“Thank you, Dilgear. I am going to hate to have to kill you, too.”

As near as I could tell, the two were equally matched as swordsmen. However, being as good as Zelgadiss wasn’t going to be good enough for Dilgear. After all, if it came down to his life being on the line, Zelgadiss could still use magic.

As to my personal opinion? I didn’t really care who won. Either way, I was going to be somebody’s hostage—Rezo’s or Zelgadiss’. And as far as either of them was concerned, I was merely a means to obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone, nothing else. That’s hardly an attitude to engender loyalty in a gal.

As the two circled each another, I considered taking the opportunity to run but quickly dismissed that idea, figuring that if Zelgadiss noticed, he’d send a flurry of fireballs in my direction as a parting gift.

“Hii-yaa!” Dilgear leapt into the air sideways, toward the pillars of earth, slicing through them with the full force of his giant scimitar.

Magic doesn’t last forever, and neither do things created by magic. Things created by magic lose stability the longer they’re around. Collapsing at the force of the scimitar’s blow, the pillars avalanched in Zelgadiss’ direction. The force of that fall started a chain reaction.

“Wah!” I gasped as I hustled to get out of the way of the second and third rapidly collapsing pillars.

Dilgear moved from column to column, helping them along. Zelgadiss’ relatively small form was quickly swallowed up in the dust storm.

Dilgear charged in after him.

Me, I sneezed. Not only was it hard to see, but it was pretty hard to breathe.

“Ugh…” I held my breath and used a handkerchief to filter the dust away from my nose and mouth. My eyes stung, and my throat itched.

At last the cloud began to settle, and both combatants reappeared.

Dilgear’s plan to blind his opponent may have looked impressive, even spectacular, but it hadn’t been properly thought out, which made sense given the wolf-thing was an idiot.

“What a spectacularly stupid stunt,” Zelgadiss said, feigning amazement. “Just when I was starting to respect you, Dilgear.”

“I take back what I said earlier, boss. I cant wait to shut that smart mouth of yours.” Dilgear screamed, renewing his charge.

I thought I saw Zelgadiss smile therefor a minute.

The two ran at each other with tremendous force. Zelgadiss’ blade caught Dilgear’s shoulder.

Suddenly, I understood the smile: Before, when it looked like Zelgadiss was merely evading Dilgear’s blows, he’d kicked a number of rocks in Dilgear’s direction while his

lower body was concealed by the dust cloud. Of course, that wasn’t enough to bring down Dilgear, but it was more than enough to knock him off balance. And knocking him off balance was all that Zelgadiss wanted.

“What’s wrong? Wasn’t I supposed to regret this?” Zelgadiss’ voice dripped with sarcasm as blood dripped from the werewolf’s shoulder.

“Who says you won’t still?” Dilgear smiled.

My eyes widened. So did Zelgadiss’. The werewolf’s wound was healing itself as we watched. Just like that, a huge gaping wound knit itself up until you could barely tell there had been a wound there at all.

“I’m half wolf and half troll,” Dilgear reminded us. “Or did you forget? If you keep to your word and don’t use your magic, there’s no way you can beat me with a sword. It don’t matter how good you think you are, you’re not good enough to take my head off.”

He was right. Because he possessed a troll’s regenerative ability, there was no way Zelgadiss’ sword alone could defeat him.

“I see. You’re right. I did forget that.” Zelgadiss didn’t sound fazed, though. He returned to his fighting stance. This time, he took the initiative.

“Yaahh!” He raised his broadsword high above him.

Oh! Not good! Not good!

He’d exposed his abdomen and Dilgear wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Gaa!” The scimitar hit Zelgadiss’ abdomen fiercely.

Blood splattered.

Or… blood should have splattered. Instead, the scimitar hit with a scrape and a thunk.

Zelgadiss smiled grandly where he stood.

“It seems there’s something you have forgotten as well, doesn’t it?” he said. “I’m one-third golem, you’ll recall. If you wish to defeat me with a sword, it had better be the Sword of Light. You cannot win this battle, either.”

Dilgear’s wolf-jaw fell.

“We can fight until you’re too tired to keep me from chopping your head off, or you can go back and cry to Rezo. You choose.”

“Hmph!” Rather than retreat, the were-thing brought something out of his pocket, holding it in a fist while readying it for a throw. The foreign object splashed as it hit the water.

“I won’t forget this!” That cliche was all Dilgear left behind as he vanished into the trees.

Zelgadiss watched him go. “That poor fool,” he muttered as he attempted to fix his now-terribly-disordered hair.

I clapped and whistled and jumped up and down, congratulating the victor.

“Wow, Zelgadiss! Well done! Woo-hoo!

Zelgadiss didn’t seem to be enjoying his triumph. “What… are you… going on about?”

“I’m congratulating you!”

“Ah, I see.” He gave up trying to argue and began walking slowly along the riverbank.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some water to drink,” he replied bluntly

“Oooookay. I’ll wash my face then.” I jogged up behind Zelgadiss. Because of his spell from earlier, the earth had been broken up randomly, making the jog a little difficult. Still, I made it to the riverbank, if awkwardly, then removed my gloves and dipped my hands into the water. Mmmm… the cold felt good.

Huh? What the… ? “Don’t drink it! It’s poison!” I screamed.

Either surprised by the volume of my voice or in preparation for a drink, Zelgadiss’ mouth opened wide.

“What did you just say… ?”

“It’s poison. It’s been poisoned! Look!” I pointed to the surface near some small rocks. A number of fish were floating there belly-up. They were most certainly not swimming, and I don’t think fish are into tanning.

“But, how?”

“Dilgear, remember? He was getting ready to throw something? It was probably a vial of poison. He must’ve figured that you’d need a drink. He tried to make the thing’s falling into the water look harmless by aiming for you at first, then seeming to give up.”

“Huh…” He sounded impressed. “Apparently Dilgear’s not quite as stupid as he looks.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be falling all over myself to praise him if he’d just tried to poison me. Anyway, Rezo’s people know where we are now. You have any destination in mind beyond this?”

“None whatsoever.” He spoke slowly.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised. Well, that’s okay. You just follow me.” I began walking in the direction of Atlas City. I needed to find Gourry. That would change the situation a little. And if there was anything my situation needed desperately, it was a little change.

What had started off as an innocent treasure hunt had quickly become an ugly mess, with more characters gunning for my back than I cared to keep track of. It didn’t matter, though. Soon, I was going to be back to full strength, and then it would he payback time. But, for the time being, we kept walking.

* * *

Rezo and company pursued us fiercely They showed up twice in the morning and again during lunch. They showed up twice in the afternoon, and then they interrupted our dinner. And of course, they showed up while I was trying, at long last, to get some sleep.

Give me a break! This is harassment!

I mean, c’mon. It was getting to the point where it was almost comic! Like when you chop off the head of a hydra, and two more grow in its place.

And there were a gazillion varieties of pursuers, too. Whatever bad stuff you could say about Rezo, he was certainly an equal opportunity employer! I mean, trolls, goblins, cyclops, berserkers, ogres, and just about anything else you could think of or imagine. It was like a parade! Only instead of marching bands playing music, this parade had other-worldly creatures; and instead of playing music, THEY WERE OUT TO KILL US.

Eventually, it was our old friend Dilgear’s turn at the helm again. He had a new guy with him, a Mazoku of some sort. And a few war mantises and some durahans (death

knights), too. And about fifty ogres and berserkers, just, you know, for padding.

“Quite an army you got yourself,” Zelgadiss said in a voice that wasn’t as confident as usual. “Congratulations, Dilgear. Your mummy must be proud.”

I hated to admit it, but it was impressive.

“Thanks again, boss,” Dilgear grinned, taking a step forward as he showed us his teeth. “I owe you for last time, you know?”

Great.

Some pretty tough customers were in that group. On the other hand, tough customers are still flammable.

“You’re good, boss, but you’re not good enough to beat a hunch like this on your own. Nobody’s that good.”

I took a step forward. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

Dilgear scrunched up his face and thought hard, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

W-why the nerve of that… !

“Yes, you are, Dildork! You’re forgetting about me.”

“Who cares about you?“

The disrespect he dared show me was staggering. I considered displaying the extent of my powers (such as they were) in one spectacular shot.

“No, don’t—” Zelgadiss protested before I had a chance to do anything. He must have read my thoughts.

“Why not?”

“The whole point of sending one unit after another is to get us to exhaust our powers.”

“That makes sense.” Well, I’d just have to tone it down a little.

This sucks. No way around it… I drew my sword from my hip.

“How is it that they always know where we are, you think?” The question I let slip from my lips so casually had been building in my brain for a while. After all, even if they’d figured out we were heading to Atlas City, there were at least a dozen different routes there. How did they always know exactly which one we’d take?

“It’s because you’re with me,” Zelgadiss said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“How’s that?” I glanced over at him for clarification.

“I told you. My body was created by Rezo’s magic.”

Ah, I get it. Of course!

That is to say, Zelgadiss’ entire body had been magically marked. There was probably no way to stop Rezo from using him like a tracking device. Even my spell for blocking magical searches wouldn’t do it.

The only way I could think to hide Zelgadiss from Rezo was to reverse the fusion process. However, there was no doubt in my mind that this particular process was a Rezo original. And even as good as I am—me, super-genius pretty-girl Lina Inverse—there wasn’t a chance I could reverse it.

“So, no matter what we do, we’re going to have to face the Red Priest sooner or later?

“Yep.”

Well, that’s just great. Zelgadiss and I made a good team, but against someone like Rezo, even the two of us didn’t stand much of a chance. I figured at the rate we were going, it was only a matter of time before I ended up hanging from that church ceiling again. That’s what I thought at the time, anyway. With the stakes so high, I had only one choice.

All right, it’s showtime!

I began, from the back of my throat, to quietly recite an incantation.

“Fire… BALL!”

My first shot would signal the start of combat. In preparation for the attack, I brought my palms together in front of my chest. I’d kept the power on low, but a fair number of surprised ogres were still engulfed in flames.

The rest charged in unison.

I pummelled them with my next attack spell, Dig Volt. Though I was aiming for the demon at the vanguard, he dodged me. Instead, I caught the berserker behind him. I did manage to get the demon’s attention, however.

Oops.

Sure enough, he turned and started in my direction.

ine! Try some of this!

“Flame Arrow!” As I called for them, a dozen arrows of fire formed before my eyes. “Flame Arrow, GO!” The arrows attacked the Mazoku from all sides.

Dodge that, jerkface.

“Kaa!” he yelled, thrusting his hands at the arrows coming at him from the front. The rest he deflected toward the sky. Somehow he managed to dodge them all.

In the meantime, everyone else was headed in Zelgadiss’ direction.

Sorry, buddy. Not that I was having a party, but still. As low ranking as he was, I was still waging war with a Mazoku. If you weren’t careful, you might have mistaken this demon for an old man. He wore a green robe, and his white beard extended from what looked like the withered face of a geezer—but he had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Definitely not human.

“Hmph!” A whip of fire extended from the palm of his hand.

I enchanted my sword with a cold spell and sliced away at the fire whip. It took me a few minutes, but I worked my way in, and soon we stood face-to… place-where-face-should-be.

“You’re an awfully young woman to take on the likes of Zorom,” he purred from his non-mouth. Honestly, I have no idea where his voice was coming from, but there it was. Who knew?

“You’re an awfully reckless demon to take on the likes of Lina Inverse,” I countered.

Zorom made a sound that would have accompanied a smile, had he a mouth to smile with.

I brought my palms together before my chest, leaping back as I chanted my spell.

“A fireball? You’re wasting your time and your energy, little girl!” Zorom declared.

“Maybe, but let’s just give it a go and see what happens.” A small ball of light shot forth from the space between my hands. I sent the ball of light in Zorom’s direction.

“Fwaa!” He sidestepped the shimmering sphere without any difficulty whatsoever. “Just as I said! A waste!”

From a certain perspective, he was right. True, a fireball that misses has no real effect, since fireballs explode on contact. But I wasn’t done yet. I raised up my right thumb, and angled it back toward myself. Then I smiled… partly because I knew what was coming next, and partly because I was happy to have a mouth.

“What’s that grin for?” Zorom asked as he casually descended to the ground.

Fireball at six o’clock. Sucker. My fireball swung back around, nailing him from behind!

“Aaaahhh!”

Fireball go boom.

Contact. Explosion. I’ve been writing spell variations since the day I learned my first chant. That boomerang effect was just one of many.

“Carelessness is a warrior’s greatest enemy, Zorom.” Too bad. Now to find Zelgadiss…

I’d spun my mantle round and turned to find my companion, when… a craving for carnage ran through me like cold steel.

I instinctively leapt to the left, but it was too late.

“Aah!” A stinging pain ripped into my right arm. I’d been pierced by a legion of steel needles. It was all I could do to keep from crying. I looked to find the culprit and—

Zorom was still standing.

“I didn’t say I was dead. Carelessness is a warrior’s greatest enemy, you know.”

Shit. I hated to admit it, but I had been careless. I could barely move my right side.

“Now it’s my turn!” Flame whips extended from both his palms. He aimed one at my head and the other at my feet. Switching my cold-enchanted sword to my left hand, I used it to parry the attack aimed at my head, and managed to dance away from the one heading for my feet.

I used to jump rope all the time, back in the old days. Guess I’ve still got some moves.

But… for that instant when I was in midair, Zorom’s forehead split open, and more silver glints than I could count rushed out, and then toward me. There’s no way I could dodge all of them.

Tink! Tink! Tink!

Huh?

I heard a sound like metal-on-metal, and needles fell to the ground like rain.

What the—?

“Fancy meeting you here, little lady!” he winked. “Miss me?”

Gourry. Yes! “I was wondering when you were going to show up,” I replied. And tried to look cool as I winked back.

Oh, It’s On Now!

Gourry shook his head as Zorom spoke… or oozed… or whatever it was that Zorom did to produce sounds.

“An ally of the girl, are you?”

“I’m more than her ally. I’m this girl’s guardian.”

My guardian?

“This really doesn’t make any difference to me. Whichever way you define your relationship to the girl, you still wind up my enemy. Am I mistaken?”

“Not at all, old man.”

“Then I shall destroy you.”

“Go on… take your best shot!” Gourry shouted, as he took off running, luring the big, ugly pincushion away from me.

“Haaaaaa!” With that blood-curdling battle cry, the demon unleashed his flame whips and silver needles in a single volley

Gourry’s sword flashed.

Damn! I couldn’t even track the blade with my eyes. It was the first time I’d really watched Gourry’s swordsmanship in action. His skill was on a completely different level from my own.

An instant later, his blade sliced Zorom’s head open. Nice!

“Ha!” Zorom laughed.

Gourry turned just in time to knock away a battery of silver flashes headed for his back.

“So young, too! Impressive for someone so new.” Zorom spoke as if the cuts didn’t matter.

“You’re a demon, then… Gourry tossed out the question as casually as if he were asking, “So, where’re you from?”

Of course he’s a demon, doofus! Haven’t you been paying attention?

“Oh yes. Which means, you will not be able to do me damage with that blade, young man. It just won’t cut it.” Demon humor. You just knew it had to be yucky.

He was right, though. All Mazoku, including half demons, lesser demons, brass demons, and especially pureblooded demons like this one, exist on the astral plane. Their physical forms cannot be destroyed because they’re not really there— make sense? You have two options, then, for prevailing over a Mazoku: trapping him in a holy talisman (none of which were handy at the moment) or defeating him with a magical sword. Gourry was amazing with his blade, but the blade itself seemed unremarkable. Even my enchanted sword wasn’t powerful enough to do the job.

In my estimation, the situation was just about as futile as Zorom said it was. With no other choice, I was going to have to get serious.

“Oh, it’ll cut,” Gourry said curtly.

It’ll cut his hair maybe, but a fat lot of good that’ll do us!

“Oh, really?” Zorom mocked him. “Then, show me, please. I’m anxious to see this.”

“Well, since you asked…”

I had absolutely no idea what Gourry was thinking when instead of sheathing his sword he withdrew a single needle from his pocket with his right hand.

“Do you intend to annoy me to death with pinpricks?” Zorom could barely contain his amusement. “Perhaps you’ll finish me off with paper cuts?”

“Of course not.” Gourry smiled as he gripped his sheathed sword’s hilt with his left hand. “Don’t be silly.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is it that you intend to do?”

“This.” And with that, Gourry threaded the needle into the hilt.

Huh? What is he doing? He was messing around with the joint that locked the blade of his sword to its hilt. Which meant… he was detaching the blade?

Why?

Gourry drew the now-bladeless hilt, pocketed the needle, and looked up and smiled. “Do you understand now?”

Understand what?!

He was both calm and confident. Neither of which made any sense, since he was about to take on a demon pureblood while brandishing… a hilt.

“Young man,” Zorom sighed. “I am greatly amused and am grateful to you for that. But I cannot claim any understanding whatsoever.”

“Then how about—THIS!“ Gourry grasped the sword hilt with his right hand, thrusting it forward.

Yeah, no, you still look like an idiot brandishing a wooden handle, Gourry. Sorry.

“Well… I understand that you are a fool!“ Zorom laughed as dozens of flaming arrows appeared, all targeted at Gourry.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Gourry scoffed and—incredibly— managed to dodge the lot.

Still, he wasn’t any closer to defeating Zorom. It didn’t matter how many attacks he evaded, it was just prolonging the inevitable.

Zorom closed in. And then…

“Light come forth!” Gourry roared.

Zorom stiffened. My eyes widened. Zorom was bisected from his head to his toes. It took me a minute, but I did manage to scream.

Gourry held his sword in his right hand. Where the steel blade had been, a blade of light shone forth.

“Th-th-the Sword… of L-L-Light…” I stuttered.

Before my very eyes, flickering in Gourry’s hand… there was no doubt about it. It was the legendary Sword of Light. Hot damn.

Zorom’s body cleaved in two like a split log, before crumbling into dust and returning to the astral plane.

Gourry sheathed the Sword of Light, since it had done its duty.

“G-Gourry…” I finally managed, my voice crackling like oil in a hot iron skillet.

“Yes, ma’am?” Gourry grinned widely and looked my way. “How’ve you been, little lady?”

“Gourry—!” I broke into a run and headed toward him with all the speed my dainty legs could muster. I stopped and stood right in front of him, gazing up at his face.

“Gourry?”

“Lina?”

“Gimme that sword!” I screeched. “Gimme gimee gimee!” Gourry nearly fell over.

Don’t fall on the sword!

“Hey now, just a minute…” Gourry acted as if he were stumbling out of bed. “How about jumping into my arms and telling me how happy you are to see me, huh?”

“That? Sure, okay. We can do that later. But now, gimme that sword! No, wait, that’s rude. I’m sorry. Don’t give me the sword— I’ll buy it from you. How could I have been so thoughtless? I’m sorry. Five hundred! I’ll buy it from you for five hundred!”

“Now you just wait a darn minute!” Gourry raised his voice. “Five hundred… that’s totally a fair price for that run-of-the-mill rapier of yours!” I was talking so fast, it was hard to catch my breath. “Oh, all right, five hundred and fifty! But that’s just because we’re friends. Now, c’mon! Fork it over! Gimme, gimme, gimme! Don’t be stingy.”

“Don’t be stingy? Do you seriously think I’m going to hand over the Sword of Light for five hundred?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“You’re nuts! And you’re cheap.“

Throw away enough pennies, and soon you’ll have wasted a fortune. I am a merchant’s daughter, after all.

“First of all, this sword is a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. I wouldn’t sell it at any price!”

“So give it to me, and it’ll be my family heirloom! It’ll be okay then, right? Right? Just so long as it stays in a family?”

“You’re a lunatic! What’s wrong with you? No, I’m not doing it! N! O!”

“You monster! How dare you treat a little girl like that! I mean it! I’m going to cry!”

“So cry!”

“Okay, so I’m not going to cry. So what?”

As soon as I said that, I snapped back to my senses. I didn’t know why but I’d taken one look at that sword and just lost my grip. A couple of deep breaths and I was moderately sane again. Poor Gourry was just as freaked out by my snapping back as he’d been by my initial snap.

“What the… ?”

“Sorry, I’m better now. I have a thing for swords, what can I say?” I didn’t wait for a response; it was urgent we moved on. “Listen. I don’t have time to explain, but a guy who bailed me out of a pinch while you were away is in big trouble. Can you come with me to help? I owe him.”

“A-ah, yeah, sure…”

“Okay, great! This way!” I broke into a run, hoping we’d make it in time to rescue Zelgadiss. Good as he was, he was monstrously outnumbered—by actual monsters, no less. The ogres and berserkers were just the appetizers. If he spent too much time on them, he wouldn’t have the energy for the main course of war mantises and durahans, with a side of Dilgear.

We ran in Dildork’s direction.

Gourry brought out the Sword of Light and cut down a nearby durahan before he even saw what was coming.

“Here we are to save the day!” I announced.

Except, apparently, the day didn’t need saving. I had the situation totally backward. Rezo’s forces were already retreating, only one ogre and one berserker were still standing along with Dilgear, who was groaning audibly.

And…

“What do you know?” Zelgadiss sighed.

The three of us stopped.

“Yes!” Dilgear looked over his shoulder; joy spreading over his face. “Rodimus!”

The old man…

Rodimus stood there, halberd in hand. He had a companion with him I didn’t recognize. A remarkably good-looking older man.

“You came! You finally came! We’re saved!” hissed a war mantis in as exuberant a hiss as he could muster.

“You’re half right,” the swordsman replied, and he struck out at Dilgear without warning. The werewolf sailed through the air and smacked into a nearby tree, making an unfortunate crunching sound. We were all too shocked to move.

“R-Rodimus! What are you… ?” The war mantis was appalled. “Have you gone mad?”

“I am not crazy, if that’s what you mean!” He moved deliberately. “I pledged my loyalty to Lord Zelgadiss, and no nonsense from the Red Priest will cause me to stand against my comrades!”

“W-why you!” The war mantis rushed Rodimus in a frenzy. Unfortunately, that made him easy prey for the halberd.

“Doryaa!” The fight ended the instant that Rodimus yelled out. The war mantis’ torso had been divided cleanly in two. The lower half took several steps before walking into a tree. The upper half fell to the ground, squirmed for an excruciating while, then stopped. The remaining combatants scattered without a word.

“Thank you for coming,” Zelgadiss said humbly, “but I believe we have things under control.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Gourry smiled, and then turned to the two elder swordsmen. “Seriously, just so we’re clear: We’re all on the same side here, right?”

“For the time being,’“ the handsome guy responded.

Wait, where have I heard that voice before… ?

“I’m sorry for dragging you two into this, Rodimus… Zolf,” said Zelgadiss.

Z-Z-Zolf?! The good-looking guy was Zolf?! Nuh-uh!

Zolf’s gaze turned in my direction. “Well, young lady I’m glad to see you made it.”

Yeah, I’ll bet.

Don’t go thinking I changed my mind about him just because he was a looker, okay? All that mattered at this point was that he was an enemy of Rezo the Red Priest. That made him a friend of mine… an inordinately good-looking friend of mine.

“In the interest of maximizing our forces, I hope we can agree to a fresh start,” he said.

I nodded, indicating my intention to let bygones be bygones. “You do have small feet. I’m standing by that one. And you are a third-rate sorcerer—and a sadist. But an ally is an ally. Since we’re stronger together than separate, I’ll be happy to call you friend. “

“Lucky me. Guess I’m not the only one who can hold a grudge.”

“Who, me? No, not me. You are totally forgiven for trying to get me knocked up by a walking flounder. Totally. The only people who hold grudges are the ones who let their pride get the better of them. It warps their personalities after a while, and no matter how good-looking they are—”

“Look, you little bitch—!”

“Lina!” Gourry butted in. “Not to change the subject, but I need you to catch me up on what I’ve missed.”

Oh, yeah. I hadn’t given Gourry any of the details yet. Starting with the moment we’d been separated, I filled him in on everything that had happened since. The church, the fish, the escape, Dilgear, the poison, my nap… I recounted it all in rich detail. I have a gift for storytelling, as you well know.

I finished up as the sun set, “… and that’s where you came in. Understand?”

I fished for a response. “Hellooo? Any questions?”

Gourry didn’t say a word. He looked—no, stared—blankly in my direction. Everyone but me was sitting on the ground. I guessed all that fighting had worn them out. Sheesh, you guys. And I thought I had a problem with stamina.

“You know,” Rodimus said, staring at a series of tally marks he’d made on the ground in front of him. “You’ve been talking nonstop for over an hour.”

“I have?”

Everyone nodded decisively

Really… ? Huh.

“Well, anyway You got the gist?”

“Oh, I think I got more than the gist,” Gourry said, climbing slowly to his feet.

“I have a question,” Zelgadiss said, and he rose to his feet as well. “Will you now hand over the Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Nope.” I sighed. “Sorry.”

“I’m not surprised,” Zelgadiss replied. There was hostility in his tone.

“Rezo wants it to restore his sight. You want it for vengeance. They’re both selfish acts, neither of them worthy of the stone.”

“Do not judge me, girl, unless you intend to start a war.”

“I don’t want to start a war, Zelgadiss, but I’m not going to hand over the stone. That’s all there is to it. If that means we’re foes, then so be it. I haven’t ruled out the possibility that this is all a scheme between you and Rezo, remember.”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Zelgadiss said, drawing his sword. “But it seems you give me no choice.”

“You could walk away,” Gourry said, hilt in hand. I guess he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Aw jeez, guys.

Zolf and Rodimus took their places on either side of Zelgadiss.

“You two fall back,” Zelgadiss commanded.

At least he was after a fair fight. Rodimus took a single step backward, then managed a grin.

“B-but…” Zolf stuttered.

“Fall back,” Zelgadiss repeated.

Dejected, Zolf withdrew.

“Wait,” I said. “Cut it out, all of you! This is stupid!”

Neither combatant could take his eyes off his foe. Zolf and Rodimus wouldn’t look at me, either.

Gourry and Zelgadiss gradually closed the distance between them.

I raised my voice. “I said, cut it out!” I screamed. “We’ll have plenty of time to fight among ourselves later. Right now, we have more pressing problems to attend to!”

“The lady has no idea just how right she is,” said a voice like very sharp glass. It was coming from right behind—no, right beside my ear. I felt something sharp and cold making its way up the back of my neck. I knew instinctively that if I so much as flinched, I’d die.

Everyone’s eyes swung around in my direction, and had a good look at who was behind me. I didn’t have to see him to know who it was. The voice was unmistakable.

“Rezo.” Gourry was the first to say his name.

“Yes. Sorry for not keeping in touch. Let us skip the usual formalities, shall we? You must know what I want, don’t you… Gourry? Oh, yes. I can feel it. Yes, you most certainly do.”

“You want the stone.”

“I do indeed want “the stone,’ as you have so disrespectfully called it. I’m certain that you understand, but please let me spell it out for you: If you should try anything rash, if you should so much as sneeze unexpectedly, I might lean forward the slightest little bit. And that motion, however slight, would be enough to drive this needle into this lovely neck, killing the girl… instantly.”

Yikes.

My heartbeat picked up the pace as I grasped the reality of what was happening. I started to sweat. Buckets.

I don’t want to die.

“He’s bluffing! Don’t do it!” Zelgadiss raised his voice to a shriek. No one bought it for a moment. Zelgadiss knew better than anyone that Rezo wasn’t the type to bluff. He was willing to sacrifice me for the stone.

A drop of sweat made its way down my cheek to my chin. It might have looked like a tear.

“Tell me what you want with the stone,” Gourry commanded.

“The girl explained it to you earlier. I desire only to see the world with my own eyes. Nothing more.”

“You would sacrifice my life for your sight?” I asked him, standing rigidly. “Why?”

“There is no explanation that a sighted person could possibly understand.”

So, that’s that.

“Now, the stone…” He tightened his hold.

“All right.” Gourry dropped his blade.

“Stop! No! Don’t give it to him—!”

Ignoring Zelgadiss’ pleas, Gourry produced the Orihalcon statue.

“Here,” he said as he tossed the statue to Rezo. It seemed to have curved through the space between them in slow motion. Rezo extended his right hand and caught it, clasping it tightly.

“I have it,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “I have it… After all these years, it is mine!” His voice had changed. He was overcome with wicked delight.

“Let the girl go!” Gourry shouted.

“Never you fear. I will release her momentarily.”

With a smash, the Orihalcon statue self-destructed as Rezo held it in his hand. The proximity of the power of the great sorcerer combined with the power of the stone was too much even for a substance as strong as Orihalcon.

Rezo extracted a small black stone from the rubble. It looked like… a rock, or maybe a piece of coal. Nothing a geologist would bother picking up. That pebble was the Philosopher’s Stone.

“Yes! This is it… this, most certainly, is it!”

Rezo tossed me onto my back.

“Oof!” I slid several paces over rough ground before coming to a stop. I reached back right away, found the needle still protruding from my neck, and pulled it out.

Brrr. Just the thought still gives me chills.

The pain had been bearable, but if that needle—which was about the length of a man’s thumb and more like a tiny sharpened razor than a pin—had been pushed in any further; it would have severed the bundle of nerves in my spinal column, and I’d have been dead or paralyzed for sure. That fiendish plot was brought to you by the renowned Red Priest. Thankyouverymuch.

Zelgadiss began chanting a spell. Gourry drew the Sword of Light.

And Rezo? He took the tiny stone from his hand and popped it into his mouth.

He wouldn’t…

Yes, he would. He swallowed it.

A strong wind gusted out of nowhere, sending my mantle flying into my face, and nearly scooping me up like a kite into the air. I covered my mouth as nausea welled within me. It wasn’t vertigo or fear. It wasn’t the wind. It was the certain knowledge that something was very, very wrong in the world.

The shears of wind that tore through the air weren’t part of a sudden storm. They were the physical manifestations of an intense miasma. In the center of that miasma, Rezo was alone. And laughing.

A roar came from Zelgadiss. With it, he sent a pillar of blue flames toward Rezo. They wound around the Red Priest like a chrysalis and then… disappeared.

Whatever spell that was—and I wasn’t familiar with it—had no effect whatsoever.

“Ah ha ha ha… ! I can see! I can SEE!”

I was mesmerized. We all were. We’d never seen anything like it in our lives. Rezo’s eyes opened. Orbs of red emanated from the darkness within. His eyes were at once the color of rubies and blood, and the tongues of fire, and behind them…

“Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! They’re open! My eyes have opened!” The flesh from his cheeks fell to the ground with a plop. Something white could be seen underneath.

“What was that?” someone asked.

Plop. From his forehead this time.

And then… I understood. I knew what had been sealed behind Rezo’s eyes. Rezo’s face transformed into a mask of white stone, with rubies fit in where his eyes should have been. His entire body, still covered in red robes, hardened into something that wasn’t human.

“It can’t be…” Zelgadiss muttered. He’d recognized it as well: Ruby Eye Shabranigdu lived.

A silence fell across the land like no silence before or since. The birds ceased their singing. The gurgling of the rivers hushed. It was as though everything had stopped to witness what was happening.

“You may choose the path that you desire,” Rezo, or Shabranigdu, said calmly, his marble mouth fixed open. “If you choose to obey me, you will be permitted to live out your natural lives. I offer you this as an expression of gratitude for having restored me to life.

“However, if you should choose to be enemies, then I will show you no mercy. Before I go to release the Demon Lord of the north, another aspect of myself that was sealed up long ago, I shall be your opponent. Choose wisely.”

It wasn’t exactly what you’d call an easy choice. To allow him to release the Demon Lord of the north was to condemn the world to destruction. To fight him was to take as our enemy one of the seven aspects of the Demon Lord, whom a God—a God—had divided while both fought for hegemony over the world. Victory in that battle had drained every ounce of that God’s power. A band of unorganized sorcerers and warriors, then, was not likely to fare well.

To outlive the destruction of the world was no better a fate than death itself.

Such was the choice we faced.

“This is foolishness!” Zolf belted out, showing no appreciation of the weight of the situation whatsoever.

“Humans are not as you remember us, Lord Shabranigdu! We have had a thousand years to evolve while you stayed stagnant!” he boasted. “No Demon Lord of the last era can stand against Zolf!”

Wow, he really did not get it. He raised both his hands high above him as he began to chant a spell.

Thou art darker than night, Thou art redder than the flowing blood, Thou through whom time flows, I call upon thy exalted name.

No way! The Dragon Slave?! The Dragon Slave is the school of Black Magic’s most powerful spell.

The Dragon Slave is a highly destructive spell that was originally created to take down a dragon in a single blow. Two or three sorcerers chanting the spell at the same time could wipe out an entire kingdom. I couldn’t believe that Zolf could handle the Dragon Slave.

I know it wasn’t very nice considering our status as allies, hut up to this point I had no idea why someone like Zelgadiss would put someone of Zolf’s apparent abilities on retainer. Mystery solved. So much for third rate…

But…

Just as I’d feared, the spell wasn’t going to defeat Shabranigdu.

“Stop it, Zolf! It’s useless!” I cried, but Zolf wasn’t listening.

“What’s this now?” Ruby Eye wondered admiringly. Of course, he knew damn well what it was.

“Wait…” Zelgadiss feebly attempted a cry. Zolf had finished his spell a moment before Zelgadiss had put it all together.

“Dragon Slave!“

An enormous explosion shot out from around the Demon Lord’s body.

“Yes!” Zolf shouted, raising his arms overhead like he’d just won a joust.

“Zolf! Ruuuun!” Rodimus shouted. He sensed it, too. It was still alive.

“What?” Zolf still didn’t understand, but a look of doubt was slowly making its way across his face.

“Dammit!” Rodimus muttered as he broke into a run toward Zolf, intending to tackle him.

A moment later, the two were engulfed in a sea of flames.

“Rodimus! Zolf!” Zelgadiss cried out. “Nooo!”

The only reply came in the form of a red silhouette in the midst of the flames. A silhouette glowing more crimson than the flames themselves.

No…

I felt like I could almost hear a voice from within the roar of the fire, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was saying.

“Run…” Zelgadiss muttered under his breath.

“What?” I replied, starting to unfreeze.

“RUN!”

On that note, the three of us fled like rats leaving a sinking ship.

* * *

Silently, we watched the small flames of our campfire burn. Each of us was reminded of the wretched sight we’d all witnessed earlier.

We didn’t stand a chance against Shabranigdu, and we knew it. We’d escaped for the time being, but we knew that no matter how far we ran, he’d find us. And you can’t outrun your destiny.

“I’ll fight…” Zelgadiss muttered at last.

“I realize I won’t win, but if I keep running, Rodimus and Zolf will never forgive me.”

Poof. The fire burned out again.

“Guess I’ll go with you,” Gourry said, perhaps finding an omen in the dying of the flames. “Even if it’s not going to work,

I can’t let you go alone.”

“I’m sorry… it wasn’t your fight,” Zelgadiss whispered.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s my world, too. And it’s my choice,” Gourry replied.

With that settled, they both returned to silence. I understood, of course, that they were waiting for my reply. It wasn’t that I couldn’t say it. It wasn’t that I wasn’t paying attention.

I was just watching the fire smolder.

“I…” I opened my mouth and tried to speak. Neither of them responded, not wanting to influence my decision, I suppose. They remained still, gazing at the glowing embers.

“I don’t want to die,” I muttered, and I kept my eyes on the fire.

“No one’s forcing you to,” Gourry turned and looked at me kindly as he spoke.

I got up. I felt anger in my blood.

“Is that so? You know what? Fighting to die is stupid. Men always talk about stupid things like ‘backbone’ and ‘honor’ before throwing their lives away! When you die—that’s it! It’s all over, folks. You can’t take honor to the grave!”

“You do as you must,” Zelgadiss spoke. “Keep running if you so choose. Just… do not ally yourself with him. If you do that, I will kill you with my own hands.”

I put my hands on my hips and let out a huge sigh. “Hey… did you hear me say I wasn’t going to fight?”

“What?” They both looked up at me, neither one understanding.

“Don’t get me wrong. Saying ‘I don’t want to fight to lose’ isn’t just another way of saying ‘I don’t want to fight,’ got it? It’s another way of saying ‘I don’t want to lose.‘ If we have even a 1 percent chance of winning, and we fight to lose, that 1 percent becomes a big, fat zero.

“I absolutely do not want to die. That’s why, when I fight… I fight to win! With you guys, of course… if you’ll have me.”

The two of them exchanged glances.

“Of course, we want to win, but I don’t know that we have even a 1 percent chance, Lina. I’m sorry,” Zelgadiss replied in what was, for him, an unusually weak voice.

“I certainly can’t defeat him with my Black Magic, but maybe in combination with your Shamanic Magic, we might have a chance….”

“No, Lina.”

“N… o? No?”

“That’s right. No. Did you notice the spell I cast on him at the time of his revival?”

“The blue flames? Yeah. I didn’t know what spell you were using, but it bounced right off him. Wait…”

“Yes. It was Ra Tilt.”

“Holy crap!” I held my face in my hands.

“What? What does that mean? What’s a raw tilt?” Gourry asked, clueless as ever.

“Ra Tilt is…” I paused, searching for a simple answer. “Ra Tilt is the most powerful attack spell of Shamanic Magic. It’s a technique used to destroy an opponent from the astral plane. Although it affects only one individual, it’s as powerful as a Dragon Slave in its own tradition.”

“Drag and slave?”

You bonehead! Haven’t you ever read a book? “Dragon Slave is the most powerful Black Magic spell that humans can use. It was the first spell used by a sage named Ray Magnus to destroy a six-thousand-year-old Arc Dragon, so they called it Dragon Slayer.

Over time, that evolved into Dragon Slave. That’s the spell that Zolf tried to use on the Red Priest.”

“If these spells are so powerful, why didn’t they work? Did they do them wrong?”

Argh, I’d had enough. “Pass. Zelgadiss, you explain it.”

“Shamanic Magic is composed of magic that uses the four major elements—earth, water, fire, and air—as well as spiritual magic that uses the astral plane. As Lina said, Ra Tilt is a spell that draws on spiritual energy from the astral plane. However, a Demon Lord is much closer to a being of pure spirit than is a human being. So, even an attack powered from the astral plane, if done by a human, barely registers against a demon. It goes without saying that elemental spells of earth, water, fire, and air can destroy a human. But of course, the power level required to destroy something made of spirit is much greater than what Shamanic Magic can muster.

“So, all the tools of Shamanic Magic are pretty useless in this case,” he concluded. “Pass.”

“Black Magic will not work on Shabranigdu for a very simple reason,” I explained, picking up where Zelgadiss left off. “The primary source of the power of Black Magic is the dark side of human nature: hatred, fear, and malice. But the ultimate embodiment of that power is the Dark Lord himself.

“Zolf said it at the start of his spell, remember? Thou art darker than night, thou art redder than flowing blood. That’s Shabranigdu he was talking about.”

I was interrupted mid-sentence.

“He said that?” Gourry looked at me funny.

“Of course he did! You were there! Oh, yeah, that’s right, you don’t know about Chaos Words.”

“Chaos Words?”

“Yeah, they’re… they’re the words you use when you’re casting Black Magic. It’s hard to explain. Anyway. That’s how it is. It’s a trade secret. Explaining it further is like saying, ‘Here, let me help you kill me!’ Even you can understand what idiocy that is.”

“What do you mean, even me?“

Oops.

“At any rate,” I continued, “White Magic doesn’t really have any attack spells. It has spells for exorcism that’ll work on ghosts and zombies, but they aren’t nearly powerful enough to affect him.

“So the long and short of it is this: Zelgadiss and I can’t beat him using magic.”

“Well, we’ve got to do something,“ Zelgadiss said, turning his gaze toward Gourry. “It looks like you and the Sword of Light are our best hope.”

“So, in the end, you’re the one who’s going to have to fight him. We’ll back you up as much as we possibly can.”

“Huh. All right. That’s easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t think there are any other options left,” I said. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Well… no,” Gourry sighed.

“It’s settled, then.” Zelgadiss nodded, sealing the deal.

“I’m pleased you’ve finally come to an agreement.”

Our gazes shot in the direction of his voice. There was no mistaking that fiendish sound.

When did he get here? How long has he been there? His blood-red darkness hidden in the nightshade of the trees… the Dark Lord, Ruby Shabranigdu.

“Combatants such as the two who met their fate back there… they weren’t—how shall I put this? They weren’t a good exercise. Too easy. I so hoped that you would choose to train with me. I have been locked away for so very long. I am—how do you say it—rusty? My countless important travels can wait until we have completed our exercises.”

“This is bullshit….” I muttered, rising to my feet. He wants to slaughter us for practice. He went to the trouble of following us so he could train, because his destruction muscles were apparently feeling a little stiff.

Sure, Zolf had a distasteful personality. Sure, Rodimus wasn’t very easy on the eyes. But he burned them alive… for sport.

I didn’t think I was qualified to give any lectures on acting humane. I’d killed people, too. And it was certainly no different for Zelgadiss or Gourry.

But…

This was different somehow. This, I would not forgive or forget.

“Train, you say? Sure, we’ll play along. We could use some training, couldn’t we, boys? But be careful, Rezo. You might be the one to regret this.”

“Ha ha ha. Perhaps. But these high spirits are good. Feisty is what I want. Or else, coming after you would have been a waste of my time.”

“We don’t intend to lose, you know,” Gourry said. Both he and Zelgadiss rose.

“Intent is completely irrelevant. Surely even you could realize this.”

“Sure,” I replied. “I get what you’re saying, Lord Shabranigdu. But we still intend to kick your ass.”

It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw the Demon Lord flinch.

“Let us begin.” And with that, the Demon Lord stabbed the ground with the staff he held in his hand. And the earth moved,

No… !

The movement wasn’t coming from the ground, rather, it came from under the ground—from the roots of the forest’s trees. Shabranigdu had animated them, causing them to creep through the earth beneath our feet like giant serpents.

“That’s kind of a lame attack.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, Zelgadiss!”

“Right! Dug Haut!” He instantly understood my request.

This time, the earth truly shook.

With a single quake, the tree-root snakes were torn asunder. The twitching roots fell into their ready-made graves, the cracks in the earth spawned by Dug Haut.

“Okay, next one’s mine!”

“All yours, young lady.” Zelgadiss strained to smile.

“Oh, goody. I wonder what you’ll try. Do make it something interesting?” the Demon Lord whined.

“It’s not anything big. It’s only special because it’s mine,” I raised my right hand. A ball of light burst into being.

“Surely, you do not intend to use a fireball against me?” said the Demon Lord. He sounded disappointed. I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Yep! fireball, sure enough…” and I lightly tossed it in his direction. The flaming ball lazily winged its way to Shabranigdu, finally stopping right before his eyes.

“This one is orange…” the Demon Lord said, the same way a child might identify a pet: “This one’s a bunny .”

“A direct hit from a fireball—even a direct hit from an orange fireball—won’t harm me in any way,” he whined, bemused.

“I know that,” I said, “But let’s give it a shot, just for grins and giggles.”

“I am neither grinning, nor giggling,” Shabranigdu said, slowly raising up the staff he held in his hand.

“Break!” I shouted at the appropriate moment. The ball of light split apart, its remnants falling on the Demon Lord in a helix pattern.

“What now? What is this?” the Demon Lord asked, his voice registering surprise. He hadn’t been prepared for this, and his form soon disappeared in a fiery sandstorm.

“Gourry! It’s your turn!”

“Gotcha!“ Gourry responded, breaking into a run, Sword of Light at the ready.

“Run, Gourry!” Zelgadiss called out.

“DIE, Demon Lord!” Gourry issued his battle cry. The Sword of Light hummed.

Then… Shabranigdu, the creature we’d first known as Rezo the Red Priest… began to laugh.

“The Sword of Light? The sword that slew Zanaffar, the Demon Beast, at Sairaag, in the City of Sorcery? Oh, I am sh-sh-shaking, my foes,” he stuttered. He was shaking all right. With laughter. “You will find that a Demon Beast half-breed is a gnat compared to a Demon Lord.”

Then he… stopped the Sword of Light with one bare hand.

“A little warm, perhaps, but it feels almost pleasant,” he guffawed.

Quite a monster, he was.

Gourry growled under his breath. No matter how hard he pushed, the sword wouldn’t budge.

“Little man, even in the hands of a master, such means are far too weak to defeat me. However, if it will give you comfort, you may die knowing you’ve done as much as a human can do.”

There was an explosion.

“Gwaa!” Gourry was blown back about fifty feet. He hit the ground hard.

“Gourry!”

“I’m all right!” He shouted while still on the ground, and not looking “all right” at all.

“I believe I am done toying with you. Have you made your peace? Your time to die has come,” the Demon Lord announced matter-of-factly. Some bedside manner, huh?

“Dammit, no!” Zelgadiss retreated. His form was instantly engulfed in flames.

“Zel!” I screamed.

“He’s made out of rock, Lina, it’s all right! He’s not going to burn. And anyway—take this!” Gourry shouted, tossing something in my direction. I caught it reflexively.

The heck?!

I grasped it but my eyes were on the Demon Lord, who took a step forward.

The Sword of Light?!

“Use it well, Lina!” Gourry said. “Use the sword’s power with your Black Magic!”

“You intend to use the power of Light to heighten the power of Darkness?” Shabranigdu was so amused, he no longer tried containing his mirth. “Foolishness…” He chuckled.

He was right. You can’t combine Light Magic and Dark Magic. The two opposing forces only cancel each other out.

However… !

“Sword! Give me your power!” I felt its power building in my hands. In a second, the blade of light sprang forth. Whereas when Gourry had used it, the blade was the length of a long sword, but this blade was the size of a short sword.

Which meant I’d figured right.

“Such futility!” The Demon Lord sneered. He was growing impatient with this little training exercise. No telling how much longer it would last. I began chanting as quickly as I could.

It started out just like the Dragon Slave. A spell calling on all the darkness in the entire world was nothing compared to the darkness of Shabranigdu, but I knew of another legend, about a Demon Lord among Demon Lords, who had fallen from the heavens themselves. He was known both as the Golden Demon Lord, and as the Lord of Nightmares.

Black Magic calling on Shabranigdu’s own power could not be used to harm Shabranigdu himself. But it was possible that even Ruby Eye could be wounded by power drawn from an even more powerful Demon Lord.

Thou who art darker than dark, Thou who art deeper than night, Thou of the Sea of Chaos, The Golden King of Darkness…

I swore I saw Shabranigdu begin to tremble. “You crafty little bitch! Who told you to call that name?”

I ignored him and continued:

I call upon thee, I pledge myself to thee; Let us stand together, And let the fools Who would destroy us Feel the force of our true power.

Darkness suddenly appeared, surrounding me. It was as though the air bled black—darkness become visible. An impenetrable absence from which no one could be brought back… a portal into death itself.

It worked both ways, I knew. If I lost control of the spell, the magic would absorb all of my energy… and I would die.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, having calmed considerably. “And it’s almost charming how you refuse to see the futility!” Still contemplating my charm, the Demon Lord began to chant, creating and releasing several energy balls. Each undoubtedly contained enough power to split a stone.

Suddenly, the darkness coiled around me vanished. This was to be my first-ever public demonstration of my most secret of secret techniques—the Giga Slave.

The first time I tried it, I turned a nice sandy beach into a huge inlet. I’ve heard that even now, fish avoid the place.

I was aware that no single spell of mine could defeat Ruby Eye. No matter how hard I might try. No human in history had ever been able to devise a spell that could defeat a Demon Lord. There was only one alternative left.

The shining blade of the Sword of Light continued to absorb the darkness around me. Maybe that, at least, would be felt by Shabranigdu.

The Light Magic imbued within the sword was in fact canceling out the Dark Magic from my spell. That part, Gourry hadn’t expected. However, I suspected something else was happening, too.

Confirming my suspicions, the Demon Lord appeared nervous.

Got to give it a shot… “Sword!” I called out. “Consume the darkness with your blade!”

“What are you up to, girl?”

The darkness created by the Giga Slave flowed from my hands into the blade, merging with it. It was just as I’d thought:

The Sword of Light was an amplifier of human will. The “light” is just the form it takes. What tipped me off was how Gourry could use it despite neither possessing nor understanding mystic power whatsoever. It’s willpower that both controls it and determines its strength.

I wasn’t at all convinced my plan would work, but it was quite literally the only option remaining….

“Enough of this!” The Demon Lord readied his priest’s staff. He muttered in a low voice, speaking in a language I had never heard before.

Not good! My sword still needed more time to absorb all of the darkness from the Giga Slave.

No matter how large or small the spell a sorcerer is casting, a mystic field protects him or her for the duration. As long as I was casting the Giga Slave spell, the field would be protected from those powerful energy balls. The question was: How much could the Demon Lord’s mystic field withstand while he cast a spell? To be honest, I really wanted some way to test my idea before actually trying it.

In any case, I was still in the middle of pouring the Giga Slave’s energy into the sword. Finding out whether or not the mystic barrier would hold was going to have to wait.

The tip of the Demon Lord’s staff glowed red.

Faster!

A Demon Lord wasn’t going to go down in half-measures. This was—

“End this!” Zelgadiss’ voice called out.

Who is he talking to?

“That’s enough…! You said you wanted to see the world, didn’t you?! I don’t believe you want to destroy it! LORD REZO! Hear me!”

His speech was frenzied. He was close to babbling.

But then… the spell stopped. The red glow atop the Demon Lord’s staff vanished.

Shabranigdu—or Rezo, perhaps?—lowered his gaze to stare at Zelgadiss.

Gotcha! I just need a moment more…

After a long pause, Shabranigdu spoke scornfully, “Foolishness…”

At that instant, the Sword of Darkness was fully loaded.

“Rezo the Red Priest!“ I called out. “Hear me!”

The blade of the Sword of Darkness extended as I spoke.

“You can allow Shabranigdu to completely devour your soul, or you can avenge yourself! The outcome is yours to determine. Choose well!”

“Yes…” whispered a gracious voice from within the Red Priest’s form.

“Impossible,” cried Shabranigdu from the same mouth, at the same time.

“Sword! Destroy the red darkness!” I said as I brought my weapon down upon him.

The black light abandoned its shape and advanced toward the Demon Lord.

“Such a pathetic little cloud! I shall return it to you in a storm!“ The Demon Lord raised his staff. Dark energies massed together, forming a pillar of black flame, and then…

Something went wrong on his end. Perhaps whatever was left of the good priest Rezo had intervened… ? What-ever had happened, the power of the sword was able to break through.

“Yes…” I whispered, and for a moment, felt real hope. I wiped the sweat off my brow.

Within the pillar of flames, I could discern a quivering form. The silence was finally broken.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” The Demon Lord’s laughter was loud enough to shake the forest.

“No…” I collapsed to my knees.

“Congratulations, human!“ he continued laughing. “I didn’t think it possible!”

I heard a quiet crackling sound.

“Well done. Well done, little bitch. You, above all others of your kind, deserve to hold the title of “Master.’“

Hey, I’m usually happy to take compliments wherever I can find them, but at that point, I had no energy left for happiness. I had used all of my power in that one attack. Not one ounce of strength remained for escaping the radiating heat of the pillar of fire. All I could do was fall to the ground and try not to breathe in the searing smoke.

“Unfortunately, child, I doubt you’ll live long enough to repeat this feat. As impressive a sorceress as you may be, you are still only human.“

CR-ACK.

That crackling sound, again. What… ?

“Then again, those who employ sorcery sometimes live for centuries. Even I cannot predict the course of history, or if another part of me will awaken while you live….”

Huh? What does he mean… ?

I raised my head, finally seeing it: Countless small cracks ran along the body of Shabranigdu the Demon Lord.

“I could recover over a lengthy period, and do battle with you again… but no… no. I choose to honor you, and accept… my destruction.”

“Here… I die.” Both voices became heavy. Ruby Eye Shabra-nigdu’s, and Rezo the Red Priest’s.

The cheek of the Demon Lord’s mask split off. Before falling to the ground, it turned to dust and scattered through the air.

“It was amusing… young… lady…” the wind sang. “Thank you… my regrets…”

“Truly… truly…”

“Ugh… uhhhh… ughhh…”

I stared blankly as the smiling form of the Demon Lord, Ruby Eye Shabranigdu, turned to dust before my eyes.

Only his laughter remained, released in the wind.

Epilogue

Is it… over?” By the time Gourry finally broke the silence, Shabranigdu’s body had long since blown away. “Yeah,” I croaked, my voice dry with the smoke and heat. “Thanks to Rezo.”

“Rezo…” Zelgadiss spoke as he stared at the place where the Demon Lord had stood. He was finding it hard to believe it had been destroyed.

“You knew it, didn’t you? That Rezo’s soul was still there inside him? Even after the Demon Lord corrupted him— over months and years, a part of the good in him remained, hating the Demon Lord for having deceived him. Without his help… the dark energy I created would have drained my own.”

“Just the same, Lina, what you did was really something.” Gourry stared at me, speechless.

Then, Zelgadiss too.

I bet they’re both in love with me. It just goes to show you— “Your hair,” Gourry whispered. They were staring at my silver hair. The mark of an excessive drain on one’s life force.

“L-Lina… your hair…” Gourry stepped back. Like it was contagious.

“I’m A-okay. I just used a little too much power. I smiled sweetly. “I am tired, though. How about you guys?”

“I’m… fine….”

Liar. Despite what he said, Gourry seemed a bit wobbly “I’m… not dead yet, at least.” Zelgadiss looked like he was doing just a bit better than Gourry.

“Okay, well, I’m glad,” I murmured. Still smiling, I spread myself flat on my back and closed my eyes.

It felt good to just let my tired body… rest.

* * *

It took us three more days to get to the point where we were within sight of Atlas City. I raised my voice as I caught a glimpse of the cityscape in the distance.

“Yay!” I shrieked. “Tonight we can eat good food and sleep in soft, fluffy beds….” My hair hadn’t returned to its normal chestnut yet, but I’d completely recovered from the fatigue.

“It’s been quite a trip,” Gourry sighed.

“Well, then… it seems this is where we part company,” said Zelgadiss abruptly.

“Why?” Gourry and I both asked at once.

“Although I have appreciated our time together, someone of my appearance is ill-suited for large cities such as this one.”

“Oh… I see. I’m sorry.” I knew arguing with him would be pointless. “What are you going to do from here?”

“Well, I’ll do as I please on my own. I’d just cause trouble if I stayed with you two….” He rubbed the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

“Should we live much longer, I’m sure we’ll meet again…. I only hope that the next time, it is I who can be of assistance to you!”

“I’m sure well meet again. I hope so,” I said, and before he could leave, I awkwardly shook his hand.

“Someday,” Zelgadiss replied softly.

You know, for a guy with stone for skin, he was quite a softie.

“Take care.” Gourry waved lightly.

“Yeah. You, too.”

Goodbyes said, Zelgadiss released my hand, turned his back, and walked away

“Lina…” Gourry began, as we both watched Zelgadiss’ shape grow smaller in the distance.

Since the battle with the Demon Lord, Gourry had taken to calling me “Lina” instead of “little lady.”

“Lina, the way you shook his hand… you’re not falling for that guy, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laughed.

“I don’t think it’s so ridiculous,” he said, and mercifully changed the subject. “So, what are you going to do when we arrive in Atlas City?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know…” I fell into thought. “How about if you give me that Sword of Light like you said you would, Gourry?”

“I said what? When?”

“You’re not going to hand it over then?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s too bad. I’d be nearly invincible. It would make a spectacular research project….”

“I said no.”

“Yeah, I know,” I nodded.

“So what are your plans?” Gourry asked in confusion.

“I’ve decided I’ll keep traveling on ahead.”

Where to?” he asked, still not getting it.

“Wherever you go.”

“Huh?”

I’m going to follow you everywhere you go until you decide to give the Sword of Light to me.” I winked. “Anyway… let’s go.” “Oooooh,” said Gourry, smiling. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With that, we began moving forward. On to Atlas City.

[jennyschectersghost]

So I'm mostly over the whole CDM mess at this point, but some of these defenses are truly incredible. I...I really should stop reading them, but I can't fully look away.

In fact, out of morbid curiosity, I checked @projectqu*er's blog to see if they'd said anything further on the matter---and they'd actually posted a statement "in solidarity with Chicago D*ke March" from an affiliated Jew who is attempting to stick up for them, you know, so the white goy running that blog can feel justified in talking over the rest of us.

First of all, it's nothing short of absurd that people are seriously giving CDM the "solidarity" they've been calling for (SOLIDARITY!), as if they are somehow being oppressed or in any way mistreated by being widely held responsible for their antisemitic actions, which they still haven't apologized for or even acknowledged.

Secondly, I'm...I'm really just fucking floored by huge swaths of this statement, wow. I mean, it pissed me off at first, but now I mostly feel sad for this person and all the antisemitism she seems to have internalized, which is pretty easy to do in that sort of environment from what I've seen (sadly). I hope someday she can truly, unequivocally *know* that it is possible to support Palestinians as an unabashedly Jewish person---without forgetting all our Jewishness entails, without rewriting our histories or glossing over so many legitimate realities of the diasporic experience. I hope she can reconnect with her own Jewishness someday. I hope she's okay.

I mean, she basically frames the whole thing as if wanting to exist as a Jew in public is seriously akin to White Fragility, as if *public existence* is actually a thing that fucking white goyim would *ever* have to worry about...ever, in any fucking universe, at least on the basis of being white goyim. Like?! When is the last time anyone was kicked out of an event because of an explicitly pro-LGBT cross, even though white Western Christianity has persecuted and oppressed countless groups of people pretty much since its inception (DEFINITELY including Jews)?

But the MAGEN DAVID is ALSO on THE ISRAELI FLAG!! Yeah, and as much as plenty of leftists (myself included) might verbally shit on the American flag or whatever, CAN YOU IMAGINE a white goy EVER actually being expelled from an event because of an American Pride flag, the likes of which can literally be seen at comparable fucking events constantly, even though this country is itself undeniably violent and imperialistic?

Anyway. She also attacks both Ellie Otra and Lauren Grauer on a personal level, effectively demonizing both of them, characterizing and dismissing both of them as Fragile Whites obviously---acting as if they were both affiliated with A Wider Bridge (and as if A Wider Bridge is something much more insidious than it really appears to be) when only Lauren Grauer is actually affiliated with AWD, and this was discovered after the fact as far as I know, and it was not brought up by her as far as I know, and it definitely had nothing to do with her flag or why she was fucking there---ignoring the Persian part of Ellie Otra's Jewish background and all the ways in which that could further complicate goyische perception of her, especially white goyische perception of her---and mysteriously making no mention whatsoever of Eleanor Shoshany-Anderson, the Iranian Jewish woman who would most certainly be considered a woman of color by anyone's standard, who also had a Jewish Pride flag with a [*gasp*] Magen David on it and was booted precisely the same way, you know, for having *the audacity* to be visibly Jewish. She is just...unnamed, forgotten. Erased. How convenient.

And like...fuck, you know? Fuck.

It's hard to know exactly what to believe at this point, since CDM's Official Story has changed several times now. But this person does also assert that Magen Davids, arguably the mostly widely recognized symbol of Judaism and Jewishness in general, were effectively banned because Palestinian marchers were triggered by seeing them on a few rainbow flags.

Um. Okay. Giving her the benefit of the doubt and assuming that isn't just a bullshit excuse, like assuming there really were Palestinians there who really were triggered by that image, triggered as in legitimately having a *trauma response*...I can think of at least a few alternative means of supporting them without infringing on anyone else's rights (you know, just off the top of my head):

-They could have explicitly reassured the triggered marchers that they were safe and supported there, reminding them of where they were.

-They could have marched alongside the triggered marchers and made space for hearing them out---directly, intentionally making themselves emotionally available to the triggered marchers if they needed to talk through any thoughts or feelings.

-They could have physically helped the triggered marchers stay away from the triggering images---marching around them, in front of them, or behind them as the case might have been, you know, whatever---just making sure the flags weren't especially visible to them or at least trying to block those triggering images from their direct view(s).

Did they even *try* taking any of these sorts of measures, by any of their own accounts? No. Of course not. And as far as I'm concerned, it is still indefensible and completely uncalled for to just...jump right to interrogating and booting people for visibly taking pride as LGBT folks within their own marginalized cultural background, ethnicity and religion, you know, to *literally expel* them for being visibly Jewish. Fuck.

I used to be pretty frequently triggered by people grinning at me the wrong way, bringing me back to a sexually traumatic incident from my adolescence, but I would never tell any of the people around me they're not allowed to smile.

Sometimes I'm triggered by the sight, smell and taste of bananas because my abusive ex forcibly shoved one in my mouth before dragging me across the kitchen floor, but I would never banish anyone for eating a banana.

Sometimes people in ED recovery are triggered by the mere sight of Very Thin or Very Fat bodies; and if you knew this was the case for someone in your space, would you *actually* tell someone else to "cover up or get out" because you knew *their physical form* could be triggering? I would sure as fuck hope not. Because that is no way to behave.

And despite the particular form of hypocrisy that I mentioned earlier, I *could* understand kicking them out if those flags had in fact been Israeli flags at an explicitly anti-Zionist event, if those flags were *actually* supposed to be making any kind of statement about Israel/Palestine or if those flags had been, hm, I don't know, anti-Palestinian in any way.

But the fact remains that they were Jewish Pride flags. They were quite obviously Jewish Pride flags. And goyim have absolutely *no right* to decide what an ancient Jewish symbol means.

That's the thing, though: any awareness of more general goyische/Jewish dynamic seems to immediately evaporate in these sorts of anti-Zionist spaces, if it was ever there at all (which ultimately helps no one). Suddenly there is no discernible memory amongst *non-Palestinian* goyim of the Crusades, the blood libel, the Inquisition, the countless murders, the multiple expulsions, the pogroms, the forced assimilation, the Venetian ghetto, the historical segregation in numerous countries, the Holocaust, the Farhud, the discriminatory laws, the ongoing hate crimes, all the current ways in which our religion most definitely isn't regarded as the default in *every country except Israel,* none of it. None of it at all.

Because having or maintaining any active awareness of that sort of stuff makes all the most accepted narratives too messy, too multi-faceted. So suddenly all Jews (or "Zionists" as thinly veiled code for "Jews," as the case *sometimes* legitimately is) are framed as privileged oppressors in every context *in the world,* and I have literally had this kind of thinking espoused to me by people whose ancestors very likely persecuted mine at some point.

But it's fine in the name of anti-Zionism, right? It's all just anti-Zionism for sure!! Because Jews have ~never~ existed before the contemporary state of Israel and still don't exist outside of it, clearly, except in Evil Zionist Cabals. In fact, I am pretty obviously typing this from the Globalist Zionist New World Order Illuminati clubhouse. Duh.

From this person's statement:

"...Zionism is a system of power and control places Jews in a position of privilege vis a vis Palestinians.

This means that when Jews enter an anti-Zionist space, we accept that we are entering it under certain conditions. As beneficiaries of the system of power and control that those spaces were set up to combat and dismantle, we may be held to a higher political standard. We may be required to affirm certain political positions in order to remain in the space. We may be asked certain questions about our politics because of our positions of privilege. ... That is our role as accomplices, and privileged people in that space. Other privileged groups of people are treated the same way in social justice spaces, and that is the norm in our corner of society."

As beneficiaries. As ACCOMPLICES. I just. Wow. WOW. Other privileged groups of people? That would all be well and good if *all Jews* were in fact "the beneficiaries of the system of power [of Zionism]," (holy fuck), but that is certainly not the case. I mean, *how* are any Jews *here* at all privileged on the basis of "Zionism's" existence, or on the basis of our Jewishness specifically? Name one way! One fucking way! Without relying on those good old antisemitic tropes!!! I bet you fucking can't?!!

Of course some of us *are* privileged on the basis of our (debatably conditional) access to *whiteness* which is important to remain cognizant of, but we're certainly not privileged in any way specifically *because* we're *Jewish*---and the access some of us do have to whiteness is really in spite of our Jewishness, not because of it.

Of course we would have privilege as Jews in Israel. Israel is the one nation-state in the world where we would be privileged specifically on the basis of Jewishness, but we are not living in Israel. This is not Israel. Regardless of how any individual American Jew may or may not feel about it, we are not living in Israel. Even in radical circles, even at an explicitly anti-Zionist American q*eer event, this is still the United States---and the actual implications of our Jewishness here in this "Christian nation" don't magically vanish when we enter an "anti-Zionist space" for one LGBT March or any other kind of event.

Pretending otherwise to suit your agenda, however well-intentioned it might be in regards to supporting Palestinian folks, is really bizarrely dishonest if not outright absurd. It is not just forcibly, violently rewriting our people's entire fucking history, it is also erasing the ongoing context of how diasporic Jews very much do still exist as a marginalized ethno-religious group in the entire rest of the world (including here, unfortunately, as we are being so blatantly reminded of now with the emboldenment of literal Nazis). And would you deny this completely? Or do you somehow truly believe that it can be ignored?

[themattress]

Seriously

I’ve talked about this before, but I want to again because the complaints about how US/UM “ruined Lillie’s story” just willfully ignore the problem. This quote from one user:

“Sun and Moon were about an abused child finding a new family that genuinely cared about and loved her, and finally standing up to her mother after years of being mistreated.”

That quote ignores everything that happened AFTER Lillie stood up to her mother. First off, that scene, while written well enough, suffered due to S/M’s limited stock of facial expressions, and Lillie gives her whole dramatic call-out to Lusamine while looking like this:

Kind of hard to take her seriously in this very serious moment, no?

Now after this whole climax is finished and Lusamine gets what looks like her death scene but wasn’t, Lillie says this in response to Nebby wanting to continue traveling in Alola.

After all...we've been together so long. We're family now, aren't we? Of course I can tell how you feel! Because I feel the same! We met so many people as we traveled around all of Alola's islands: Professor Kukui and Professor Burnet... Kahuna Hala and his grandson Hau... and of course the hero who appeared to save you when those Spearow attacked— our own <player>. And so many other people, too...I don't know what the world you came from is like, but Alola is pretty great, too! Of course you want to see it all! It's just like Kahuna Hala told us... You can go so many places and meet so many Pokémon and people, and they will enrich your life! But not with me... I'm not a Trainer, Nebby. I can't take you on the adventures you want. I can't give you the fierce battles you want."

OK, here’s Lillie talking about the family she and Nebby made, which is great, though I don’t buy the logic behind her needing to give Nebby away to the player (”I’m not a Trainer” - then become one, like you do in the ending anyway!) other than of course the player needs to have the game’s mascot Pokemon.  Anyway, you get Nebby, and then Lillie says this:

"And I...will go to my mother. I need to see for myself that she'll be all right."

So whatever happened to “I am the one who is sick of you, Mother! You’re terrible!”?

Well, whatever, I guess it’s sensible for her to still care about Lusamine enough to want to see if she’s going to pull through. But it’s at the very end of the game, after your battle with Tapu Koko, where things really go wrong for me, because that’s when Lillie says this:

"I think even my mother would have smiled and laughed to see this...if she could have come...I think...my mother is getting a bit better. She even tried to come tonight...I've been trying to help her understand what she did wrong. Gently, of course. But she needed someone to scold her. But in the process I think I've discovered what I have to do next."

First off, why would Lusamine even be allowed to come and attend the celebration for the new Champion whom she tried to murder?  Why would we want to see her smiling and laughing when all the other times we’ve seen her do those things, it was in a sinister and crazy way? And of course, the bullshit “I’ve been trying to help her understand what she did wrong - she needed someone to scold her”.  That line is uncomfortable on so many levels.

Then Lillie decides to leave for Kanto along with her mother, saying:

"I'm sorry... But I've decided. I have to go to Kanto. To help my mother get better... but more than that...to help myself get stronger. Of course I'm sad to leave Alola...but...the thought of going to Kanto also fills my heart with excitement! I'm going to become a real Trainer and meet all kinds of wonderful Pokémon... I'm going to travel all around Kanto, just like we did here on Alola for your island challenges!"

The excuse provided is not solid enough to justify Lillie going to Kanto. If she wanted to become a real Trainer and grow stronger, then there is no reason that she couldn’t do so in Alola, which is what she does in US/UM.  The only reason she’s going to do it in Kanto is because her abusive mother is being taken there for treatment, and so Lillie is going to walk out on that precious new family she made in Alola, a family who actually loves her, for said abusive mother’s benefit. She can’t just stay in Alola and let the grown-ups handle helping Lusamine in Kanto, with her staying in touch to check up on her progress every now and then - no, she apparently HAS to go to Kanto too, just to provide a tearjerking ending to the story.

Kukui’s line here really drives home the problem I have with this:

"Burnet's...well... she said she'd be too sad to watch you go, so she wouldn't even come out with me. I know it's a lot to ask, but forgive her this time, wouldja? She did tell me to let you know the loft in the lab is yours to use indefinitely."

Burnet is who Lillie said earlier in the game “has been like a real mother to me”. And now Lillie is just gonna leave her in order to help her biological mother who did not act like a real mother to her? This is literally the opposite of what certain fans say S/M’s story is about - it’s not “an abused child finding a new family that genuinely cared about and loved her, and finally standing up to her mother after years of being mistreated”, it’s “an abused child finding a new family that genuinely cared about and loved her, only to end up accepting that there is no substitute for real, biological family and that she needs to stick with it, abuse be damned.”

If S/M had done any of these three things:

1. Killed off Lusamine. 2. Not had Lillie accompany Lusamine to Kanto in the end. 3. Kept Lusamine in Alola and have Lillie go to Kanto all on her own.

Then I’d be fine with the story’s conclusion. It would have lived up to what it was setting up. 

But as it stands, even if it’s not as detailed or focused on, I prefer how Lillie’s story ends in US/UM compared to S/M, since Lillie gets to stay in Alola for her new Trainer career, she gives a more justified reason for giving you Nebby, and she lives far away from Lusamine, who rightfully is backing off and working on her issues by herself with no-one to “scold her”.