#2) I’m not telling people that they were deliberately targeted and are now open to LITIGATION FOR COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT

[snickerdoodlles]

*sees this post pop up in my notes*

*twitches*

I’d made some generalizations in that (which I standby, they’re just coming from an opposite direction) but had to break out the sources and numbers when someone told me I was making generalizations in the same way as the people who “””uncovered””” that AO3 was scraped for AI (no) did and anyways I get tempted to post those notes here sometimes before I have to bonk myself on the head and remind myself no one cares

[min-jpg]

can i request zhongli , kaeya and xiao with a fem!s/o that comes from an extremely rich family and the boys get kidnapped and held for ransom and then out of nowhere their s/o comes and beats the group of people that kidnapped the boys , gracefully😋😋

Note: we stan a baddie s/o! Anyways, enjoy the drabbles with a word count averaging 0.5k for each character :) I'll make the setting at an abandoned warehouse, classic

---

Kidnapped Genshin Boys x Fem Rich!reader pt.1

Part 2 (Childe, Diluc, Kazuha)

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli

Genre: fluff, established relationship, some woman kicking ass action, (TW: mentions of blood and violence)

---

KAEYA

Your boyfriend would deliberately act like a damsel in distress with no fighting aptitudes. Exaggerating his emotions to fabricate fear, he voluntarily let himself be held hostage, thinking they caught an easy target. Kaeya went along with his abductors' antics because he intends to bring them down once they reach the hideout.

While they were camping in the warehouse, Kaeya was not worried at the slightest. These people were no vision bearers, just mere greedy criminals that do not know who they were messing with.

Kaeya is aware of how affluent you and your family are. He already anticipated something similar to happen one day. Lowly tactics like these do not budge him at all, especially his unyielding loyalty towards you. As if the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonious would be shaken by something as childish as this.

While he was improvising a plan in his mind, one of the men yelled, "Intruder!"

They all assembled at the source, but glanced at each other in confusion, "Intruder? Where?"

While an altercation sparked between them about the unseen intruder, their attention successfully diverted away from Kaeya. Thus, using the containers and blind spots to your advantage, you sneaked your way towards your boyfriend. While freeing Kaeya from the ropes that bound him to the chair, you giggled as well, "Are you lost, baby boy?"

Your unexpected appearance left him stunned, but it was a pleasant surprise, "Lost in those eyes, baby girl." He smirked back. By the time you finished, the men realized that the intruder was you.

Now that you are actually here, Kaeya's concerns began sprouting because he wanted to ensure your safety first before carrying out his plan since your arrival was not formulated in it.

You fueled his worries when you stepped forward towards the group. You dropped the bag you carried along in front of them, "Here. You wanted the money right? Take it."

"Well, that wasn't so hard." The gung ho group laughed boisterously among themselves, the leader leaning down to pick up the bag. You swung your foot, landing a clean kick on his face which caused him to stumble back. He pressed his nose, blood trickled down, "You-"

You refused to let him finish by sending another vigorous kick, this time at the center of his stomach, causing him to hunch as he grabbed onto his stomach and surpassing his coughs. To finish it off, you plunged your elbow down the back of his head and connected with an uppercut. The force was strong enough to send their leader flying back and never stood up again, completely knocked out.

The rest of the gang blinked. It was not even a fight. You took him down with only a few moves, barely breaking a sweat.

"You guys want some more? Or just take the money and leave us alone." You taunted them. They hustled along, grabbing the bag, and left their leader in the warehouse. Little did they know, the bag was not filled with money, but just some rocks to give it some weight.

Kaeya walked up behind you, clapping his hands, "That was superb, babe. I didn't know you were such a fighter." Needless to say, Kaeya is so proud of you and praised the way you executed your beautiful course of movements. He will also keep in mind to never mess with your temper too much in the future.

XIAO

Your boyfriend could take out all the adversaries he wanted to, driving them to regret that they wished they never premeditate this abduction. Unfortunately, his hands are tied because the group threatened that harm would come your way instead if he did not comply with their demands.

"You just have to sit here until your girlfriend bails you out. I'm sure she has some extra cash to blow to save you."

You did warn Xiao beforehand that similar incidents happened in the past and it is bound to occur again, to which he glazed over as a simple matter since he is confident with his combat experiences. But you did not explain how the incidents were settled. Xiao did not know that you have the capability to defend yourself, so obviously he reluctantly listened to them to protect you.

If they were to resort to hurting anyone, Xiao would rather have them hurt him instead if it meant they could spare you. He will never forgive them or himself if they even attempt to graze a single strand of your hair.

While worrying for your safety, he heard one of the men shouting a yelp, but it got cut off as his body fell, passing out cold on the ground.

The group huddled together, "Who's there?!" Their eyes darted around to search for the one responsible.

While they were bewildered, you jumped down from one of the containers at the warehouse, sending your knee flying directly towards one of the members to knock him down. In a kneeling position to pin the person below in place, you sent a swift strike to his neck, making him faint. As you stood up, the gang and also Xiao all looked at your abrupt appearance with wide eyes.

Glaring at the men in front of you, "Now, if any of you touched my boyfriend, one doctor visit wouldn't suffice." Without giving them any time to react or respond, your palm curled into a fist, dashing forward to begin taking them down one by one with your nimble feet.

Your calculative movements were sharp and precise, leaving no opening for your foes to attack. As the battle proceeded, your hair flowed gracefully behind along with your bold actions. Although Xiao was itching to help, he only managed to stare at you in awe, marveled by your bravery and poise stance that showed no weakness.

Before you both knew it, the fight ended with you emerging victorious.

You ran over to Xiao to free him immediately, "Oh archons! Xiao, are you okay?" Caressing his cheeks, you frantically inspected his face for any external injuries. Those men will face your wrath if they did anything to him.

Xiao was still processing what happened, his pupils fixed at you, lips parting, "That was really... amazing of you." He wanted to tell you that you looked so gorgeous that it made him breathless, but kept his mouth sealed after. For now, he enjoys the sensation of your hands that were used to unleash such fury now stroking his face so lovingly. It is also worth mentioning that Xiao has a new profound respect for your charming side that he never knew of.

ZHONGLI

Your boyfriend maintained a tranquil state of mind when he was kidnaped. Not portraying any signs of retaliation or profound panic, it even caused the group to be unnerved with how silent Zhongli behaved.

While held hostage, the head of the abduction blabbered about how they intend to lure you here, exploiting you through Zhongli's situation for some quick money grab.

Upon hearing that, Zhongli's eyebrows twitched in a displeased manner, "So you'd rather take advantage of someone for money instead of working for it? Don't you have any dignity left?"

"Obviously! If there's an easy way to earn money, who wouldn't want to partake? Someone as sheltered and rich as your girlfriend will never understand. Don't act like you never took money from her." They ridiculed his righteous morales by bringing you in the conversation, implying Zhongli only dated you for your status.

Zhongli leaned back against the chair with an inscrutable demeanor on his face. He knew that surely someone would point out the disparity in social status between you and him. But, if they thought he only valued your wealth and nothing else, then he will have to disappoint them.

"Oh, I'm very lucky to have a wealthy partner. Something you will never understand, yes? That's why you turn to disagreeable schemes such as this." Zhongli stalled time by making mindless talks with the leader.

Not appreciating Zhongli's remark, the leader raised his arm, ready to swing at full force to land a hit, except you obstructed him. Appearing out of thin air, you found your way towards Zhongli and held a tenacious grip on the man's arm from behind before he could potentially scar your boyfriend's precious face.

The group was alarmed by your arrival and the way you constrained their leader's strike. Applying even more force to twist his arm, you contorted his limb. It caused him to arch his back and bawled in pain as he attempted to wriggle his arm out of your grasp. In contrast, you reinforced your strength and kicked the back of his knees.

Once you let go, everyone watched him squirmed in agony on the ground with your grip leaving a red imprint on his arm. Turning your head towards Zhongli, you sent him a cheeky wink, "You're one lucky man indeed."

Now channeling your attention at the group, "Who's next?"

The group charged towards you, assertive that their strengths in numbers will have more odds in winning against you, a woman who stood alone.

Thus, to prove them wrong, not only did you beat their egos to pulps, but also the entire gang. Keeping a composed manner, your limbs carried your movement with great finesse and elegance. You dodged and blocked every incoming attack, never allowing them to get a clean hit on you. Your presence dominated the flow of the battle.

Eventually, only one victor is appointed, that victor being you.

You walked back to Zhongli to untie him. You placed your hand on your hip, huffing your chest to stand proud, "How was that? Not only is your girlfriend rich, but also powerful."

Zhongli nodded in agreement, softly patting your hair as he watched you with affectionate eyes, "That was a remarkable performance to remember down the road. Guess I have a lot of things to learn about you." Although Zhongli is fully competent to defend himself if things went wrong, he found it absolutely charming of you to protect him. You were reckless, but he acknowledges your ability to fight so gracefully.

[herorps]

shadow and bone and racism

shadow and bone just came out so i can now finally break my silence bc holy shit do they go ham on the racism and me being me, i just have to tell you all about it. possible spoilers and triggers for anti-asian racism and microaggressions.

to preface, i was very privileged to receive a screener for the entire first season last month and i was actually excited to watch it bc i have friends who love the books and the show piqued my interest since it was announced. and i also have to say that i never read the books and i probably never will ( tho i’ve been told i would like soc ) but i did like the show overall. 

i think sab is a good adaptation and that the fans will like this show. i thoroughly enjoyed it and as someone who had very little to almost no knowledge about the books, i didn’t have trouble keeping up with the fantastical world. 

however that doesn’t mean i can’t be critical of it. 

i think the show can actually benefit from people being critical about it because so far, it feels like they took a very tone deaf direction and ran a marathon with it. 

what i’m talking about, is alina starkov being half-shu. 

now, i said before that my interest was piqued for this show when it was announced and one of the major reasons is the casting of biracial actress, jessie mei li, in the role of alina starkov. i can’t tell you how happy i was to see that a half-chinese actress was cast as the lead in a series based on such a beloved ip, especially since the creators of the show consciously changed alina’s ethnicity to be half-shu before casting calls were even sent out. ( for those of you who are also non-book readers, shu is the race of people from the country, shu han, and is based off primarily mongolian and chinese cultures ) 

so i was endeared with the idea that this character, that is coded white, was deliberately changed to be coded asian ( and coded mixed race to boot ) because the producers wanted to include diversity into the show. i commend that, i love that, i support that. but i believe the way they handled it, shouldn’t have been the way they handled it. and it’s because alina’s race is constantly brought up. 

obviously of course race is going to be brought up at some point. alina in the show is surrounded by white people when we first see her, and her home country of ravka does have a hostile history with shu han----i get it. racism is going to play a part in alina’s story. but it doesn’t necessarily need to go so far as to constantly remind the audience that she is shu in almost every interaction she has with someone she meets. 

and that’s a big part of the issue, is that nearly everyone she meets will bring up the fact that she’s part-shu. and a lot of the time, it’s said with hostility. now i’m not exactly sure if i’m just being particularly sensitive because of certain recent events, but the anti-asian racism hits differently these days. idk. 

because that’s what it is, at the end of the day. it’s racism. alina is often the target of very hostile racism and it seems to mainly be directed at her character and her character only. 

and honestly, on a surface level it makes sense, i sort of understand what the producers are trying to do. ravka has a turbulent history with shu han and were involved in wars with them and they’re often seen as the enemy so obviously that would affect a shu-mixed person growing up in ravka, a very white country. but on a deeper level, it reminds me a lot of the anti-japanese sentiments during wwii. the production team even created a banner that i felt called back to those anti-japanese propaganda of that era. ( mind you it was shown multiple times, in main focus, and acknowledged by characters that were coded shu ) 

but on the other hand, they’ve done a considerable job to diversify at least the ethnic makeup of ravka. there are black and brown grisha at the school and there are people of different cultures ( noted by costuming, etc. ) in ketterdam and there’s even a shu-appearing trainer that teaches the grisha to fight. so my question is, why is this very hostile treatment primarily geared toward shu people and geared toward alina specifically? it just doesn’t make sense to me. 

and when i say it’s specifically geared toward alina, i mean that it’s very apparent that they’re targeting her specifically, because mal  ( played by a possibly mixed-race archie renaux ) is also coded to be of mixed shu blood. while it is not explicitly stated that mal is shu, it is heavily implied that he is mixed, but he is never subject to the treatment that alina is, and the only times he is subject to racism is when alina is also present. in scenes where we see alina and mal as kids, they are often both referred to as “mutts” or “half-breeds”. but when they are older, only alina is continuously called those things. 

this isn’t even touching the microaggressions she faces after she’s at grisha school and this one line that made my gut wrench so viscerally i had to pause the episode and replay the part so i could confirm what i heard. [ episode 3 spoiler warning ] i’m trying to avoid posting screenshots or from spoiling parts of the show but there’s a scene where alina is being cleaned up and made presentable by servants and one of them says “I’d start by making her eyes less Shu.” [ end episode 3 spoiler ] i don’t think i have to explain to anyone how offensive that is. and i understand that the intention was to show how racist this servant is, that the entire point of of this weird racism plot is to show how the people of ravka can be racist and ignorant, but to have that line be written by a white writer, approved by a white showrunner and said by a white character to the face of an asian actor/character feels very tactless. it feels like another antagonist alina has to go against is racism itself. 

what also turns me off about this scene is that jessie mei li revealed that this scene is what actresses had to audition with. “...the sides that they sent for the audition, like Alina is talking to Genya and they’re talking about her eyes and they’re talking about her Shu ancestry.” having actresses of mixed-asian ancestry come in and act out that scene for white producers doesn’t really sit right with me. and i know that there’s an argument to be had about how it’s important to show the minutia of what it’s like to be ethnic in a world ruled by white supremacy and that it’s important to show how alina’s race affects her story, but i don’t think that going this far is necessary to the development of plot or character. 

and i don’t personally know jml, i don’t know how she feels about the show apart from what she’s probably briefed to talk about in interviews, but it is perfectly valid for me to feel iffy about the microaggressions while she feels that it’s necessary for character development ( again, this is just an example, i have no clue what she thinks of the racism ). our experiences are different, our upbringings are different, but we’re both happy to see representation and i’m happy that she’s happy to see an actual mixed-chinese character on screen as the lead. 

i’m glad that the producers were open to diversity and were open to making the lead a person of color, but it’s things like the treatment of shu characters and exchanges like “Tell her...Oh, I don’t know...good morning.” “I don’t actually speak Shu.” and “I didn’t know the Zemeni had such talent.” “She’s Suli.”  ( zemeni is a race of “dark-skinned” people and suli are coded south asian/mena/wena so this exchange is just white people mixing the brown people up )  that remind me the majority of the writers and producers are white. 

now i’m not saying that you should boycott the show or that this show is the most problematic thing to ever grace my retinas, because i really enjoyed watching it and i want to see what season 2 has in store ( more crows content please ). but, i want you all to please keep all of this in mind when you watch the series and think critically of what kinds of unconscious biases these producers had. you’re allowed to have nuanced opinions, you’re allowed to be critical of the media you enjoy so long as you understand where some people’s criticisms are coming from---where my criticisms are coming from. i just hope in future seasons the treatment of alina gets better and that she actually learns to love her shu side because otherwise it’s just going to be problematic as the show continues. 

[hanatiny]

Aim To Please

a/n: I’m aware that certain kinks in this may not sit well with some people, but I have a very specific target audience for this one so :) a/n 2: happy birthday to the stressed mom Seonghwa, hope he eats well and has a good day~ <3

pairing: incubus!Seonghwa x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 1866

warnings: consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, noona kink, pet names, Hwa has a gun kink, he's also a whiny service top, praise kink, marking (both biting and light scratching), brief mention of overstimulation, orgasm control

-----

Seonghwa had been visiting you somewhat regularly for a couple months now. He first came to you in a dream while you were feeling lonely and then another night, when you found yourself unable to sleep, he actually physically materialised in front of you.

Incubi were said to simply come to 'their human' for sex and that was that, they would leave once they got what they wanted.

Seonghwa, however, was a little different. He had a bit of a childlike curiosity to him, ironic as it seemed for an immortal demonic creature, and you adored the way his eyes would light up like shooting stars every time you'd talk to him and tell him about your day or simply recount a memory you happened to be fond of.

You grew attached to each other rather quickly and easily, a strong emotional bond forming between the two of you that one wouldn't necessarily think possible.

And so, when he arrived this particular night, he couldn’t help but pout a little when he found you fast asleep in your bed. Then again he couldn’t really blame you, it was sometime between 2 and 3am after all. In all honestly, he was relieved to see you get some rest, knowing how you struggled at times.

He visited you for a different reason tonight though; it was his creation day - or birthday, a word he learned from you that meant essentially the same thing in human terms, which he used interchangeably.

He wanted to celebrate it with you and to do so, he’d either have to wait until you'd awaken on your own accord, or wake you up himself. He technically wanted to do neither but he was an incubus, so he did the one thing that he knew how to do.

Hesitating for a beat, then, Seonghwa's face blossomed a cherry red when he recalled how you had previously informed in a conversation that he had been given explicit permission to have his way with you whenever he pleased.

Feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight, he carefully maneuvered himself onto the mattress to hover above you. Seonghwa, careful and gentle as ever, balanced himself on one hand while lifting the other to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.

Your expression was peaceful as you slept, head tilted slightly to the side, and he couldn't help but coo softly at the sight while he briefly lost himself in his own thoughts.

How would he ever tell you that he had fallen in love with you, someone belonging in a different world...? He had yet to figure it out.

He shook his emotional dilemma off in favor of trailing his lips down from your jaw over your neck and collarbone with slow, deliberate kisses. You stirred slightly with a soft hum, remaining asleep.

Seonghwa’s soft lips attached themselves to your skin to gently suck a marking near your shoulder. Once satisfied, he pulled back and his hands went to free your sleeping form from the blanket it was covered with.

He froze in his tracks for a brief moment, not having expected you to be dressed exclusively in an oversized t-shirt. He bit his lip and toyed with the hem of the piece of fabric that still covered your body before pushing it up to under your breasts for easier access to where he wanted to be.

His hands established a gentle but firm grip on your thighs and parted them for him while he nipped all over the skin of your stomach, trying to distract himself and not turn bright red once more from the realization of your lack of underwear.

Like the gentle man he was, Seonghwa glided his fingertips over your inner thighs with featherlight touches and if it wasn’t for the airy giggle you let out, having known you were rather ticklish, he would have thought you couldn’t feel him at all.

You leaned into his touch slightly out of instinct when his fingers ghosted over your slit to see if you were wet enough to take him -  he knew it could be painfully if either party isn’t aroused to a more than sufficient level. But, to his relief, you were practically dripping, which led him to believe you may have been having a wet dream. Little did he know, you had been in a limbo between asleep and awake ever since his hands first came into contact with your heated skin.

Seonghwa was way too focused on his task to notice your state of half-consciousness, and he didn’t even connect the dots when you mewled out loud after he had discarded his pants and gradually pushed his length into your entrance.

Once he bottomed out, he whined softly as he began to rock his hips into you and it surprised you time and time how gentle he’d start off with you - as if you were a porcelain doll and he was afraid of breaking you - and that you’d always, without fail, remind him that he didn’t have to be, that you could take it.

There was a tenderness in his actions that you couldn’t quite place. You refused to believe that the root of it was love.

It was when his voice went high-pitched with a shaky “N-noona..~” that your eyes flew open, thankful for his lack of focus on you while he moaned softly, your hand blindly fumbling for something under the pillow next to you.

Your fingers finally took hold of and wrapped around the cold metal item, pulling it out from where you hid it until mere seconds ago, and Seonghwa’s hips stuttered slightly when he heard a familiar soft click, but he only snapped his gaze back forward to look at you wide-eyed as he felt a gun barrel pressed to the side of his head.

“Noona, I-”

“Hush, sugar. You’ll be good and listen to every word I say, yeah~?” You smirked up at him as he nodded and let out a desperate whine of affirmation.

It was a peculiar kink of him to have to want to call you noona, you mused, considering that he was a century old creature and you physically would not be able to top that as a human being. But you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him, considering that no one in his past seemed to have done so based on his delight when you complied and agreed.

Whimpers from the man above you pulled you back into the present reality as you watched him struggle to keep up a rhythm with the gun pressed to his head. You cooed at how good of a job he was doing regardless, “Such a good boy, fucking noona good just how he knows she likes it...~”

Seonghwa cried out, his face flushed because of how he submissive he acted, contrary to how he usually at least tried to appear to be.

“Mhm, my pretty babyboy figured he could use my body for his own pleasure, similar to how the rest of his kind does hm~? It’s cute, really.” You purred, unable to stop a moan from slipping from your lips while your grip on the loaded gun tightened slighly, although you made sure to keep your fingers away from the trigger just in case.

“You make noona feel so good, sugar, just like you’re meant to...~” You smiled up at Seonghwa with a so obviously deceiving sweetness that made his pouty lips tremble slightly, a few strands of his messy hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.

You knew the telltale signs of when he was about to cum, your first trist with the demon having been what felt like years ago although it only lied back a few months.

“I-I... Noona, ‘m already close...~” He panted softly above you, causing you to coo as he twitched inside of you, a smile tugging at you lips.

“Mhm I can tell, baby~ You can hold it in for a little longer for noona, no?” Your voice carried a lilt as you hummed and it unsettled Seonghwa that he couldn’t quite place it, but he nodded eagerly nonetheless, not willing to even so much as risk disappointing you.

“Y-yeah!” He gasped softly when you suddenly wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even deeper inside of you, your back arching as you did so, “Good boy...~ Oh fuck, right there-”

You hissed lowly under your breath, having unintentionally pushed the tip of your lover’s cock right into the spot that would make you come undone. Seonghwa whined loudly and desperately above you as he continued his almost frenzied thrusts into your heat, his head thrown back and his body on the verge of overstimulation when you found your climax around his length.

It was convenient for him to be so well-endowed, you mused, since he was able to hit the most pleasurable spots deep inside of you with ease.

“P-please noona, I-I can’t-”

“Cum, Seonghwa.”

And just like that, with two simple words, he let go and released himself inside of you, a soft moan drifting from you at the feeling of warmth spreading through your body.

Seonghwa panted softly as he slowly came down from his high, reaching to caress your cheek as if in a trance while you dropped the hand holding the gun onto a pillow next to the two of you before letting go of the item entirely.

Having caught your breath, you nudged him to roll over, which he willingly did after carefully pulling out of you.

You turned to face him, tenderly threading a hand through his hair as he pouted at you.

“Y/n-”

“Shh, I know Hwa. I should get cleaned up... but I’m too tired, so I’ll just shower in the morning.” You smiled reassuringly, to which he relaxed as well and wordlessly wrapped his arm around you to pull you close and cuddle you.

“Happy birthday...~” You murmured before drifting off, leading Seonghwa to coo softly at you in endearment as he held you close to himself protectively.

You were truly the only gift he could ever want and need.

When you woke up the next morning, it was in an entirely different position than the one you fell asleep in. Shifting in your bed, you realized that your supernatural companion had cleaned both himself and you in the night before making sure to dress you appropriately so you wouldn’t be cold.

You found your gun on the nightstand next to you a few moments after, along with a small note Seonghwa must’ve written in a hurry if the handwriting on it was anything to go by.

‘Thought I’d allow myself to clean you up so you could stay under your comfy blankets a little longer. Hope you don’t mind :)’

There were a few hearts scribbled all over the piece of paper, and your head fell back against your pillow with a knowing smile and a happy sigh.

You were glad the incubus seemed to reciprocate your feelings, and you’d be sure to tell him so when he would return.

“I love you too, Hwa.”

----- Taglist:

@cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva  @galaxteez @innosintsan @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @vocalyunho @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet​

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s R&S - Folded Time

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (折叠的时光) which has not been released in EN!🍒

This R&S accompanies the Ch 37 karma, but it doesn’t contain spoilers for future content as it depicts the events leading up to Gavin reuniting with MC in Ch 2 :>

[ Chapter One ]

When Gavin appears in the office of the Public Security Bureau of Loveland City, everyone’s eyes fall on him either curiously or cautiously -

His light-coloured denim jacket is left open in a casual manner. Brown hair is scattered in front of his forehead, revealing a pair of stubborn and intractable eyes. Even though he isn’t looking at anyone, there is a palpable tension.

No matter how one looks at him, his entire person, from top to bottom, is incompatible with this place.

A few days ago, Gavin appeared in the Public Security Bureau of Loveland City, and things happened so suddenly that there wasn’t even a suitable uniform provided for him. As such, he was the only person in the office wearing regular clothes, which further cemented the view that others had of him as a "child of an official”. Gavin didn't put a stop to it. To put it another way, such an understanding was even more beneficial to his original objective.

Gavin doesn’t seem to realise that he’s the centre of everyone’s attention as he walks to the seat temporarily assigned to him.

At this moment, a young man in the police station takes the opportunity to go over, placing a thick bag of files on his desk. As though there’s a show to watch, he speaks up. "Officer Gavin, the chief said that you’ll be taking over this case." Gavin takes the bag of documents and looks at it. Then, he nods, indicating that the other party could leave.

Not hearing the questions and requests for help as imagined, the young man is momentarily stunned. Gavin lifts his head and gives him a sweeping glance, his tone indifferent. “Anything else?”

"N-no." The young man who was planning to find fault with him shivers inexplicably, then walks away in embarrassment. The surrounding gazes also disappear, and Gavin turns back to the case in his hand.

A few days ago, a woman made a report at a sub-bureau that she had “teleported”. According to her, she was walking home as usual, but when she passed by a certain place, she suddenly arrived at an unfamiliar plaza ten kilometers away - as if the distance in between was folded.

After this case was investigated, it was shelved aside temporarily due to a lack of evidence and leads. But over the next few days, different victims made reports to various sub-bureaus in succession. Hence, this strange case was finally transferred to the general bureau, and it has now been handed into Gavin’s hands. 

It doesn’t take long for Gavin to come to a conclusion - this crime involves an Evolver. After flipping through the scattered case reports, he taps his fingers on the desk, then stands up abruptly, casually telling the person next to him, "I’m heading on a mission.”

The police officer next to him is given a fright. When he looks up, he sees a back profile retreating with a free and easy poise. He can’t help but mutter, “As expected, people with special connections get special treatment. Tsk tsk tsk, how easygoing.”

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

A week ago, in an abandoned building, the elevators that were still in operation descended at a constant speed into the ground.

The lights on top of the elevator flickered slightly due to unstable electrical currents. Before the signal disappeared completely, Gavin reported the current situation through the headset. The moment the elevator door opened, he drew the gun at his waist and was the first to step out.

Borrowing the faint light from the elevator, Gavin scanned the surroundings vigilantly. When a member of the STF turned on the power switch, the cold white light illuminated the entire area, making everything in the laboratory visible - perhaps there was a hasty retreat. The room was in a mess. Many documents were not taken away or destroyed in time, and debris was scattered around.

Gavin's gaze swept across the documents, walking straight to the host computer in the corner of the room. Someone had already cracked the password and was recovering the destroyed files.

"How’s the situation?" Gavin asked.

The STF team member quickly retrieved various data and materials, and answered him without even lifting his head. "Some core data has been completely destroyed, but some files can be recovered."

Gavin looked at the recovered files, and immediately determined that these were some experiment reports related to Evolvers. The date of the report spanned from more than ten years ago to the present day. He had no idea how many of such experiments were carried out when Black Swan was hiding in the dark.

"Wait." Gavin suddenly stopped his team member’s movements, and a sharp look flashed across his eyes. "Export this name list."

Not long after, this concealed name list appeared on the screen. Among the densely listed names, Gavin saw a name that was engraved deep in his memory - MC.

For a moment, he found this hard to believe. He suddenly clenched his fist, his eyes flashing fiercely. After taking a few breaths, he managed to calm down, and pointed at the name. “Open this person’s file.”

The screen flickered, and the first thing that popped out was a photo of a girl’s college identification card. In this short archive, the girl's academic experience, her family and friends, and the company she inherited... had all turned into cold words, completely exposed to Black Swan without privacy.

Gavin read the entire file line by line, his eyes growing darker and darker, and the memories he deliberately sealed in time seemed to be shaken.

Six years ago, he was forced to leave Loveland City because of the awakening of his Evol. It wasn't until two years ago that he tracked Black Swan’s operations and returned. In the past two years, Gavin deliberately stayed away from the world where she lived in order to prevent potential dangers around the girl to shatter her peaceful life.

However, these dangers had already existed in the girl's world from the very beginning.

-

[ Chapter 3 ]

Ever since the STF destroyed the secret laboratory, Black Swan’s operations in Loveland City have grown more frequent and radical, and Evolver crimes have also been emerging in an endless stream.

"Aren't you all Evolvers? Why do you want to sell your lives to ordinary people?!" The man who was knocked to the ground by the fierce wind current lifts his head and shouts angrily at the group of people in front of him.

Gavin doesn’t speak, lifting his foot and stepping on his back, pressing the man, who was struggling desperately, back to the ground.

At this moment, the electric current in his earphone buzzes twice, conveying an urgent message to him - "There’s an abnormality near the Central Boulevard”.

"Understood." Gavin hangs up, then hands this newly awakened Evolver to his subordinates before rushing to the spot where the energy wave was discovered.

At the crossroads, a bizarre car accident was prevented. The surrounding onlookers don't seem to have noticed the peculiar scene, and slowly scatter as the taxi which started the incident drives away, leaving behind a girl standing at the side of the road in a daze.

In the city sky where nobody notices, a figure suddenly appears.

Gavin hovers mid-air, countless raindrops falling beside him and dispersed by the wind. He observes what’s happening on the ground, his eyes extraordinarily calm, akin to tempering a sharp edge. His gaze sweeps across the scene quickly: an Evolver with an unknown motive had stopped a car accident, and... the victim.

Gavin's line of sight suddenly stills. Amid the flowing crowd, the girl who brushed past death bends down, picking up the snacks scattered on the ground, staring in a certain direction for an inexplicable reason.

From such a great distance, the figure on the ground seems to have turned into a small dot. But memory has already traced a copy of the girl's appearance for Gavin.

Meeting again catches him off guard. The wind, which is being controlled, seems to know that he isn’t at peace, and it rustles the hem of his windbreaker. From beginning to end, his gaze rests on that figure which has undergone many changes.

Six years pass by in a flash, and Gavin’s memories still linger on that lonely night in the library many years ago. But the details of that day seem to be covered in mist, and are blurry.

After a long time, Gavin presses the call button of the headset, and reports to the command centre in a serious voice. "Agent B-7, energy wave detected in Loveland City. Sending coordinates.”

Almost immediately, he receives instructions from the other end, and he replies, "Target locked. Taking action immediately.”

Gavin's eyes follow the girl as her figure slowly grows further and further, until she disappears at the corner of the street. He recalls the name list by Black Swan, and a shadow flits across his eyes.

Now that the girl’s Evol has begun to awaken, the peace around her may be shattered immediately. By then, the distance he had maintained for such a long time would no longer be enough to protect her.

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

The sky has not been fully lit, and a ray of light passes through a gap in the curtains, falling on the figure in bed.

Gavin catches his breath as he awakens from the dream, lifting his arm to cover his eyes. He recalls the chaotic and fragmented images in the dream: the room raging with flames, the familiar school roof, the ruins after the explosion, and the glaring fresh blood...

It seems he hasn’t been able to calm down ever since he saw the girl again.

After a long while, Gavin adjusts his emotions, gets up from bed and walks into the bathroom. The icy water rushes down the top of his head, dispelling the lingering sleepiness, and making him incredibly clear-headed. Even the words that the man once said to him clearly resound in his ears——

"Gavin, she’s special like you, and is destined not to have a peaceful life.”

"Do you really have the ability to protect her?"

Water patters to the ground, a little noisy in the quietness of the early morning. Gavin lifts his head, allowing the water to flow over his face, down the body covered with various old and new wounds, and finally flowing into the drain.

After a long time, he opens his eyes, an absolutely unshakable resoluteness in them. "I will protect her."

Gavin turns off the water, then grabs a towel and wipes his hair as he walks out of the bathroom. The notification light of his mobile phone on the desk flickers silently — it’s a message from an informant.

Reading the message rapidly, he taps open the address book and finds a number in it. After the call gets through, he speaks to the person on the other end and says, "I have a request related to the follow-up report mentioned earlier.”

If she is their target, it is only at his side that she’d be safest.

An hour later, Gavin follows the lead provided by the informant, arriving at a small lane beside Morrow Way.

It isn’t until the school gate appears before him that Gavin realises that this is where Loveland High is located. He glances at the school gate which seems to have undergone renovation work, but has no plans to "revisit an old haunt". He heads straight to the alley mentioned by the informant.

This is a relatively remote alley, and one end of the alley is connected to a bustling commercial street. The sub-bureau that received the report had already conducted investigations nearby but found no leads. But the surveillance camera in this alley happened to be spoilt that day - as if it was premeditated.

After understanding the situation, Gavin is prepared to leave. At this moment, somebody calls out to him. "Is that... Gavin?”

Gavin turns his head and sees a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties with a dark complexion and gaunt face. It takes Gavin some time to recall who the other party is, and he’s quite surprised. “Your shop’s still here?”

"Yeah. It's really you. I even thought my eyes were playing tricks on me earlier." The man whom Gavin remembers as taciturn reveals a small smile. "Is there a reason why you came to this area?”

Gavin doesn’t conceal the truth. "I’m here on a mission, and am investigating something.”

After being stunned for a second, the middle-aged man reacts. "You’re really working in the police station now?"

Gavin nods. The middle-aged man is a little surprised, but understands quickly. He hesitates for a moment, then says to Gavin, "It's already noon. Want to have a bowl of noodles?"

Gavin is about to shake his head to refuse. But for some unknown reason, he agrees.

As compared to the last time he visited a few years ago, Lynn’s Kitchen is much more spacious now. The wall facing the door is still densely packed with all kinds of small post-it notes as it was in the past. Gavin sweeps a brief glance at it, images of the past flashing in his mind.

He finds the seat where he often sat at in the past. After a few minutes, the boss gives him a bowl of hand-pulled noodles in chilli oil: the light yellow noodles are covered with bright red oil, garlic sprouts, coriander and slices of beef placed orderly along the sides of the bowl. The fragrance accompanying the steam that burrows into his nose is exactly the same as in his memories,  easily evoking the hunger in the Gavin’s belly.

“Give it a try and see if there’s any improvement.” The middle-aged man chuckles a little reservedly. "You haven't eaten it in a long time, right?"

“Smells pretty good." Gavin responds. He lifts up the noodles with chopsticks, bringing them into his mouth. The familiar taste involuntarily relaxes the tense corners of his mouth.

At this moment, along with the sound of the school bell from the nearby Loveland High, a group of students dismissed from school at noon swarm into the noodle shop, and Gavin's surroundings instantly become noisy. Judging from the familiar colour scheme of the school uniform and the logo on it, these are students from Loveland High. They stare at Gavin with curiosity as he appears incompatible with this small shop. Then, they return to laughing and joking with each other, as though they have no worries at all.

The corners of Gavin’s lips hook upwards slightly. He finishes the remaining noodles in the bowl in two or three slurps. After leaving money at the cash register, he leaves the shop.

“Okay, 1.30 in the afternoon at Flower Fair." He arranges a meeting time with a victim. As soon as he hangs up, another call comes in immediately.

"Chief Yuan?"

"This is Captain Gavin, right? Regarding the follow-up report you mentioned, the producer will look for you at the police station at one o’clock in the afternoon.”

"Okay, I’ve got it.”

After speaking concisely, Gavin hangs up the phone with a smile in his eyes.

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

On the main road of Loveland City at noon, the vehicles caught in a jam move forward slowly.

Suddenly, the shadow of a black car speeds past along with a wave of heat. The incoming wind lifts the hem of Gavin’s clothes, but seems to surround him and refuse to leave.

There’s quite a distance between Loveland High and the police station. It’s so far that on the way there, things from the past gradually surface in Gavin’s mind -

A figure hiding under the eaves on a rainy evening.

A dusty “Byron’s Poetry Collection” in the library.

A letter stained with blood.

A piano tune on an afternoon when ginkgo leaves danced in the sky.

A... girl who appeared in his life during his most hopeless years.

Gavin’s brows suddenly soften. The emotions which were suppressed for a very long time are released in this instant, surging and foreign.

Those images that were about to be forgotten over the course of six years become as clear as yesterday, reminiscent of dust on the surface being wiped off suddenly by a hand.

They were separated for such a long time. So long that he almost forgot that he once had such ardent feelings, akin to sunlight in the height of summer.

-

1pm, Loveland City Police Department.

Gavin holds a peaked hat and walks down the corridor at a moderate pace. From afar, he can hear the chatter of Officer Landsman, who has always disliked him, mixed with the responses of the confused girl.

"Word around the office is that he’s the son of one of the higher-ups. Just think, if he’s some big shot’s boy... We should just stay away!"

[Note] I’m using his canon dialogue in EN since we’re familiar with it. But what Officer Landsman actually says in CN is: “I heard that... he’s an ignorant and incompetent child of an official - a pampered son. Just think about it - how many higher-ups have the surname Bai? ...we can’t offend him!”

Gavin arches his brows, turns around the corner, and sees that familiar figure.

The girl’s back is facing him, her height pretty much the same as it was back then. Her hair isn’t tied into a ponytail, and it drapes smoothly over her shoulders. It’s as though Gavin is able to see her eyes widening after hearing the gossip - she’s still as lively.

Hearing Officer Landsman getting increasingly unreasonable as he speaks, Gavin interrupts directly. "Officer Landsman, just who were you saying is a ‘big shot’s boy’?”

Officer Landsman is given a fright, and the girl turns her head. The pair of clear eyes from his memories meets his once again.

As though crossing over the tilted time, the feelings of youth are brought from the past and into his world with ease.

The distance which had once gradually widened between them has finally been folded by time. All the memories and images have settled, slowly overlapping with the girl in front of him.

Gavin looks at the fear straying onto the girl's face, as well as the unfamiliarity in her eyes. He lifts the corners of his lips, and smiles -

"MC, do you remember me?"

[sodone-withlife]

i know who i am

summary: really, he never saw himself ever willingly letting anyone in on his broken past, but here he was, sitting in across from Waipo in the tiny cramped office at the back of the shop and nervously sweating about what he was about to tell her

read it on ao3: chapter 1 is the original version with Mandarin, chapter 2 has everything translated into English

the movie really hit me hard as an ABC, and I really wanted to write something for it. even though she barely had any screentime, I loved Waipo—she reminds me of so many of my relatives—so I decided to make her be one of the most important people in Shangqi’s life, and it turned into this wonderful mess (i had to stop writing this for a bit because I literally made myself cry). there is mandarin in this, it's kind of intended to be a physical manifestation of how my bilingual brain works (i did put the English-only version first, the original version with Mandarin is under that one but the formatting for it one is better on ao3, so i suggest reading it from there). apologies for my shitty mandarin; I have mediocre language skills, but I'm still so excited to be able to incorporate it in my writing. in regards to the character's names: I only know for certain the Chinese characters used for Shangqi and Wenwu, but for Xialing, I'm going to go with what it apparently was in the hong kong release (夏灵, with 灵灵 as the nickname)

English Translation:

“Waipo, do you have a bit of time?” Shangqi stood in front of Katy’s grandma, fidgeting nervously as fluent Mandarin rolled off of his tongue with an ease he's never felt in any other part of his life. “I want to talk to you about something."

She pinned him with a knowing stare. “Does it have anything to do with the trip you and Katy went on this past week?" she asked, Not waiting for his answer, she got up from the shop register and beckoned him into the back office. Feeling oddly like the first time he came into the store years ago as a teen—when he first met Katy’s family who had since taken him under their wing—he followed her into the familiar, cramped space.

He wasn’t exactly sure what within him prompted this interaction. He had come to San Francisco for a normal life, to get as far away from his father’s reaches as he could and to outrun the blood that stained his footsteps.

Never did Shangqi imagine that he would end up claiming the ancient rings that now sat in a heavy-duty (thanks to Xialing, with whom he now keeps in regular contact because of the promise they made to each other before he left the compound because he already left her behind once, and he’s never doing it again damn, my baby sister is running the Ten Rings now, and she’s trying to turn it into something better) and a very well-disguised (thanks to the sorcerers in the New York Sanctum and holy shit he’s in contact with famous superheroes now) back in his mess of a studio apartment.

Never did he imagine letting anyone in on his broken past, and even though his hand had been forced when it came to telling Katy, here he was going to the second person who truly saw something in him when he first started his new life and planning to tell them everything.

(Okay, fine, Shangqi wasn’t actually planning on letting anyone else in on it after telling Waipo, not even the rest of Katy’s family, but he really didn’t want them to be so involved yet—he still had no idea what he himself was doing and he wants to preserve what normalcy he can.)

(Also, he’s been reliably informed that anyone close to a public figure is bound to be targeted for attacks—which he figured out when the mercenaries attacked on the bus because yes, Lingling, he does have brain cells thank you very much.)

“Little Dragon, what’s on your mind?”

Little Dragon.

He started at the nickname, the one originally given to him by his mother. Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that Waipo also called him that, starting a few weeks after he first met the Chen family. He barely kept it together, the long-unused nickname dredging up memories he had thought left him forever.

You have the heart of a dragon, she had declared firmly when he asked her why she decided on that particular nickname.

(That was exactly what his mother had told him right before she died, and yet he stood by, hidden behind a door, and did nothing while the men beat and killed her, the heart of the family.)

(He would carry the guilt with him for a lifetime.)

It was a while before he could bring himself to visit the family again—there were a lot of awkward excuses before Katy reluctantly backed off—and it took even longer for him to get somewhat used to the name again, but he eventually started seeing it as a gift with each faint impression of happier days that he got every time Waipo called him that.

Old, weathered hands gently covered his own, which were shaking and clammy with nervousness. Shangqi wondered how Waipo would react to the darker side of the lost boy she had basically adopted all those years ago, wondered if the legends of Ta-Lo and the Great Protector were known outside of the rather insular communities that continued to tell the stories, wondered if she had heard about his father through the stories that were passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation…

(It can’t be wrong to miss him, can it? Even with the years of hell Wenwu had put him through, he was still his father. Shangqi still faintly remembered the man his father had been when his mother was still alive, the happy times they shared as a normal family…)

(But those times were long gone, ripped from their grasp by the past Wenwu wanted so badly to leave behind. Grief had shattered the whole family, and it ultimately led to the children fighting the father who had been driven to near madness in his denial, in his quest to put his broken family back together again.)

Mom, I miss you so much.

(And now Wenwu is dead, just like his beloved wife.)

(But just as she died to protect her children, he did the same. Now, his children are reunited and in contact again, getting ever closer despite living as far apart as they did, and he was reunited with his love in the afterlife.)

Finally, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath, looking directly at Waipo, who he’d come to view as the grandmother he never had.

“Waipo, have you heard of the legend of the Ten Rings?”

And Shangqi told her everything.

He told her everything and more,

She listened.

She listened as he described the legends behind the Ten Rings, Ta-Lo, and the Great Protector; his father’s history; his own history, from witnessing his mother’s death to ripping open the throat of the man who killed her when he was barely a teen, from leaving Lingling behind to seeing her again in the fight club she built from the ground up, from returning to the compound after a decade away in San Francisco to the battle in Ta-Lo…

Finally, he fell silent and stared at his hands but it wasn’t long before Waipo moved, slowly standing up with one hand on her cane. He made to help stabilize her but was quickly waved off with a stern look. He sank back into the chair and felt her move behind him. The shaky weight of her hands on his shoulders as she gently pressed down and straightened his posture was familiar, even after years of not having his posture deliberately—so gently—fixed like that every time he saw Waipo.

“You are the legacy of all who came before you, but you are your own person.” she finally said gently, and the tension in his shoulders slowly loosened under her familiar touch. “You decide your own fate.”

~~~

That night, Shangqi knelt before the altar he had in his apartment, the only part that was carefully maintained in all the years he had lived there. But now, two smiling faces stared back at him, a joy reflected in their eyes that he knew would disappear in less than ten years after the photo was taken.

Am I still your pride and joy? Lingling grew up, but I didn’t even take care of her like I should have.

I swear to you, I will never abandon her again

Even as his life got even more unbelievable as the years went by, the altar and his copy of his parent’s wedding photo would remain a constant. He and Lingling dove deeper into their family history—of the Ten Rings, of Ta-Lo, of both the good and bad—and both worked to carry on their parents’ legacy.

(With all of the proper discretion agreements and threats when needed, of course.)

Lingling is dating my best friend now, and they’re so happy together. Mom, I know you would have loved Katy. Dad, I know you didn’t like her much, but she really is a wonderful person.

Life went on.

There were the good days, when he went out with others and could almost feel normal, and there were the bad days, when phantoms pains plagued him and he woke up from a restless sleep expecting to see bruises mottling his body like they did so often when he was younger.

(Also, he was considered a superhero now and holy shit that’s still insane, even years after he first got in contact with the Avengers and the sorcerers in New York. Now he was going all over the West Coast, to help the locals take care of whichever crazy supervillain decided to wreak havoc that day.)

Dad, I hope you find this story as funny as I did: I helped a group of American superheroes yesterday. They’ve never been to San Francisco before and were extremely unfamiliar with the roads, especially Lombard Street. They spent half an hour trying to drive down the street, but I ended up driving them down myself.

(San Francisco was still home, and he had found a life there with all his friends and Xialing whenever she visited. He had a job now, too, at the local youth center teaching martial arts and self-defense, teaching and guiding the youth in a way he wishes his father had with him.)

People came into his life; some stayed, some left, and some even got together.

Mom, Dad, Lingling and Katy are getting married today and everyone is so excited for them. I’m taking over the Ten Ring within a month so Lingling can take a break. She’s led the organization for so long, it’s my responsibility now. I hope I can live up to her standards, she’s done really well. She’ll be back in a few years, but even after, I’m going to be much more involved to lessen Lingling’s workload.

Shangqi walked the path knowing who came before him and who was still with him.

Most importantly, he walked the path knowing who he was—demons, flaws, strengths, and all.

Mom, Dad, don’t worry. I’ll take care of them.

I hope you’re happy together in the afterlife.

~~~

Don’t be afraid, Shang-Chi, for you have heart of a dragon and the power of the Ten Rings.

We will always be with you and Xialing.

Original Version w/Mandarin

“外婆，您有没有一点儿时间？” 尚气 stood in front of Katy’s grandma, fidgeting nervously. “我想告诉您一些事情。”

She pinned him with a knowing stare. “是不是跟你和瑞雯这前个星期去的旅行有关？” Not waiting for his answer, she got up from the shop register and beckoned him into the back office. Feeling oddly like the first time he came into the store years ago as a teen—when he first met Katy’s family who had since taken him under their wing—he followed her into the familiar, cramped space.

He wasn’t exactly sure what within him prompted this interaction. He had come to San Francisco for a normal life, to get as far away from his father’s reaches as he could and to outrun the blood that stained his footsteps.

Never did 尚气 imagine that he would end up claiming the ancient rings that now sat in a heavy-duty (thanks to 夏灵, with whom he now keeps in regular contact because of the promise they made to each other before he left the compound because he already left her behind once, and he’s never doing it again and damn, my baby sister is running the Ten Rings now, and she’s trying to turn it into something better) and a very well-disguised (thanks to the sorcerers in the New York Sanctum and holy shit he’s in contact with famous superheroes now) back in his mess of a studio apartment.

Never did he imagine letting anyone in on his broken past, and even though his hand had been forced when it came to telling Katy, here he was going to the second person who truly saw something in him when he first started his new life and planning to tell them everything.

(Okay, fine, 尚气 wasn’t actually planning on letting anyone else in on it after telling 外婆, not even the rest of Katy’s family, but he really didn’t want them to be so involved yet—he still had no idea what he himself was doing and he wants to preserve what normalcy he can.)

(Also, he’s been reliably informed that anyone close to a public figure is bound to be targeted for attacks—which he figured out when the mercenaries attacked on the bus because yes, 灵灵, he does have brain cells thank you very much.)

“小龙，你有什么心事儿？”

Little Dragon.

He started at the nickname, the one originally given to him by his mother. Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that 外婆 also called him that, starting a few weeks after he first met the Chen family. He barely kept it together, the long-unused nickname dredging up memories he had thought left him forever.

你有神龙之心 ，she had declared firmly when he asked her why she decided on that particular nickname. You have the heart of a dragon.

(That was exactly what his mother had told him right before she died, and yet he stood by, hidden behind a door, and did nothing while the men beat and killed her, the heart of the family.)

(He would carry the guilt with him for a lifetime.)

It was a while before he could bring himself to visit the family again—there were a lot of awkward excuses before Katy reluctantly backed off—and it took even longer for him to get somewhat used to the name again, but he eventually started seeing it as a gift with each faint impression of happier days that he got every time 外婆 called him that.

Old, weathered hands gently covered his own, which were shaking and clammy with nervousness. 尚气 wondered how 外婆 would react to the darker side of the lost boy she had basically adopted all those years ago, wondered if the legends of Ta-Lo and the Great Protector were known outside of the rather insular communities that continued to tell the stories, wondered if she had heard about his father through the stories that were passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation…

(It can’t be wrong to miss him, can it? Even with the years of hell 文武 had put him through, he was still his father. 尚气 still faintly remembered the man his father had been when his mother was still alive, the happy times they shared as a normal family…)

(But those times were long gone, ripped from their grasp by the past 文武 wanted so badly to leave behind. Grief had shattered whole family, and it ultimately led to the children fighting the father who had been driven to near madness in his denial, in his quest to put his broken family back together again.)

妈妈，我太想你了。

(And now 文武 is dead, just like his beloved wife.)

(But just as she died to protect her children, he did the same. Now, his children are reunited and in contact again, getting ever closer despite living as far apart as they did, and he was reunited with his love in the afterlife.)

Finally, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath, looking directly at 外婆, who he’d come to view as the grandmother he never had.

“外婆，您听说过 ‘十环’ 的传说吗？”

And 尚气 told her everything.

He told her everything and more,

She listened.

She listened as he described the legends behind the Ten Rings, Ta-Lo, and the Great Protector; his father’s history; his own history, from witnessing his mother’s death to ripping open the throat of the man who killed her when he was barely a teen, from leaving 灵灵 behind to seeing her again in the fight club she built from the ground up, from returning to the compound after a decade away in San Francisco to the battle in Ta-Lo…

Finally, he fell silent and stared at his hands but it wasn’t long before 外婆 moved, slowly standing up with one hand on her cane. He made to help stabilize her but was quickly waved off with a stern look. He sank back into the chair and felt her move behind him. The shaky weight of her hands on his shoulders as she gently pressed down and straightened his posture was familiar, even after years of not having his posture deliberately—so gently—fixed like that every time he saw 外婆.

“你是所有在你之前的人的遗产，但你是你自己的人，” she finally said，“你决定你自己的命运。”

You are the legacy of all who came before you, but you are your own person. You decide your own fate.

~~~

That night, 尚气 knelt before the altar he had in his apartment, the only part that was carefully maintained in all the years he had lived there. But now, two smiling faces stared back at him, a joy reflected in their eyes that he knew would disappear in less than ten years after the photo was taken.

我还是你的骄傲吗？灵灵长大了，但我也没好好照顾她。

我向你发誓，我再也不会抛弃她。

Even as his life got even more unbelievable as the years went by, the altar and his copy of his parent’s wedding photo would remain a constant. He and 灵灵 dove deeper into their family history—of the Ten Rings, of Ta-Lo, of both the good and bad—and both worked to carry on their family’s legacy.

(With all of the proper discretion agreements and threats when needed, of course.)

灵灵跟我朋友最近开始谈恋爱，他们俩可开心了。妈，如果你还在我们身边，我保证你会喜欢她。爸，我知道你一开始不太喜欢她，但她确实是一位精彩的人。

Life went on.

There were the good days, when he went out with others and could almost feel normal, and there were the bad days, when phantoms pains plagued him and he woke up from a restless sleep expecting to see bruises mottling his body like they did so often when he was younger.

(Also, he was considered a superhero now and holy shit that’s still insane, even years after he first got in contact with the Avengers and the sorcerers in New York. Now he was going all over the West Coast, to help the locals take care of whichever crazy supervillain decided to wreak havoc that day.)

爸爸，我希望你跟我一样觉得这个故事很好笑：我昨天帮了一组美国超级英雄开车。那是他们第一次来旧京山，对道路非常陌生—尤其是 Lombard Street。他们开也开不好，花了半个小时慢慢的开下去。最终，我把他们的车开下去的。

(San Francisco was still home, and he had found a life there with all his friends and 夏灵 whenever she visited. He had a job now, too, at the local youth center teaching martial arts and self-defense, teaching and guiding the youth in a way he wishes his father had with him.)

People came into his life; some stayed, some left, and some even got together.

妈，爸，灵灵她今天会跟我最好的朋友结婚，我们都很兴奋。我一个月之内开始接管十环的业务，让灵灵休息休息。她干了多少年了，现在是我的责任。我希望我能辜负她，她管的非常棒，帮了许多人。她几年后会回来继续当领导，但我好像在领导方面发挥更大的作用。

He walked the path knowing who came before him and who was still with him.

Most importantly, he walked the path knowing who he was—demons, flaws, strengths, and all.

妈，爸，你们放心吧，我会照顾他们。

我希望你们俩来世都幸福。

~~~

尚气，你别怕，你有神龙之心，十环的力量。

我们永远会在你和灵灵的身边。

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH2

<2> First Advance Notice

In the Sky Joker's living room, Hachi handed Joker an advance notice written on manila paper.

"W-What are we gonna do?" Hachi looked up at Joker with a worried gaze. Hachi, who wore an aqua-colored hood snugly over his head, was a descendant of ninjas. He had met Joker by chance when trying to steal a treasure and had pleaded with him to become his apprentice. He was now Joker's trusty right hand, and not only did he help with his work, he also handled all the household chores.

With Hachi's eyes on him, Joker read the old-fashioned notice.

I humbly inform you that I will be taking the Crimson Crystal you stole tonight. I will arrive post-haste. Be prepared for me.

—Phantom Thief Noir

"How'd this get here?"

"When I went outside to collect the laundry earlier, Hosshi found it stuck to one of the sheets."

"Hosshi!" exclaimed Hosshi next to Hachi.

Hoshi was a small, squishy, orb-shaped, cat-like creature that had been living with Joker and Hachi since they found him at a site of ruins. The shining yellow stars on his cheeks wobbled as he smiled and bounced cutely around Hachi.

"Hmmm..." Joker studied the advance notice. Locating the Sky Joker while it was in the air was a difficult task. After all, given his line of work, he couldn't let his hideout be discovered easily. This person had sent advance notice right to the Sky Joker, and also knew that Joker had just stolen the Crimson Crystal. This "Phantom Thief Noir" was no amateur...

"But I've never heard of anyone who calls themselves 'Phantom Thief Noir'."

"You're right, I haven't heard of them either. Joker-san, did you make an enemy somehow without realizing?"

"Excuse you. I'm upstanding and gentlemanly, nobody's got any ill will against me!"

"Since when! You said before that there are so many people who hate you that you can't keep track of them all." Hachi gave him a dubious look. Kaneari, whom he had just stolen from, wasn't the only one. Shadow and plenty of others were hounding Joker.

"We may not know who Noir is, but shouldn't we come up with some measures against them?"

"Measures? Naaah, too much work," said Joker as he threw himself onto the sofa.

"Joker-san?"

"Ahh, Shadow was there too, so I'm worn out. Hachi, can you make dinner early?"

"Are you sure you can be so lax about this?"

"I mean, there's nothing to do until this Noir guy gets here, yeah?"

"There's plenty that you could do! Like hiding the treasure, setting up some traps, formulating a plan... Kaneari-san does all sorts of things when he gets a notice from you, Joker-san!"

"But despite all that, has Kaneari ever once protected a treasure from me?"

"Eh... well, no, but..."

"See? Ultimately, getting treasure all depends on the skill of the would-be thief. Doesn't matter how much you set up in advance. It's a match where you have to read each other's minds," Joker said, before taking the Crimson Crystal out of his pocket and letting it catch the light. The crystal gleamed as it reflected the light from the ceiling. The globular surface of the crystal diffused and scattered the light like a prism. Joker was captivated by its beauty for a while.

"I get why he wants to steal this... but!" Joker sat up. "He's not getting it easily!"

"Hm, now that's the spirit," came a voice from the dining room suddenly.

"Eh!?" Joker and Hachi turned around in surprise to see a boy sitting on a chair in the dining room. The boy twisted open a glass bottle with a hiss and took a swig of the beverage inside.

"Spade!"

At Joker's exclamation, the boy called Spade turned to face him. "Hi, Joker. Happy to see me again?"

"I'm not happy! Where'd you come in from!?" Joker gnashed his teeth and glared.

Spade was, like Joker, a phantom thief. He wore a violet scarf and snowy white coat. His long azure hair cascaded over it, and a crest of golden hair shone over his forehead. He was a well-groomed, handsome youth.

"Settle down. This Riviera is exquisite when chilled, Dark Eye."

"Yes, Spade-sama." Standing beside Spade was Dark Eye, whose head was wrapped in bandages. They opened a bottle of the beverage as well. Dark Eye was Spade's assistant, who was female under the guise.

The Riviera which Spade was drinking is a popular drink all over the world, and both Joker and Spade loved it. As Joker said, it was the perfect drink to have after a difficult caper.

"But I must say, it's much more soothing at my own home. This place is always so raucous and dusty," Spade said, clearing his throat deliberately.

"If you're gonna complain, then leave!"

"I came here to ask you about Phantom Thief Noir."

"Wha-!?"

"Spade-san, do you know about Phantom Thief Noir?"

Joker and Hachi leaned forward and gaped at Spade.

"Did you get a notice too!?"

"Notice...?" Spade looked puzzled for a moment.

"You didn't receive an advance notice?" Hachi asked.

Spade answered jitteringly, putting the pieces together.

"Y-Yes, right! That was an advance notice. Will you show me the notice that arrived here?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Hachi handed Spade the notice, which Spade examined closely. "Hm... It's the same type of paper as the slip I received. This tells us a lot about this man calling himself Noir."

"It does?" Hachi asked, to which Spade responded ponderously.

"Hm... Noir seems to be much older. He's naturally left-handed, but has corrected himself to be right-handed. He lived in France at some point, and he likes popcorn..." Spade waved the notice and listed out each point.

"Kyo kyo. Impressive, Spade-sama," nodded Dark Eye with admiration.

"Don't make stuff up," Joker said wearily, but Hachi ignored him.

"How do you know that?"

"Simple. When this notice is held up to the light, you can see that it has a watermark written in French. This paper was produced by a maker in France. But that company went under over thirty years ago, so this paper is no longer on the market. Therefore, the fact that he was able to buy this proves he's up there in years. His letters angle upwards, which is a quirk commonly seen in corrected southpaws. And this oil mark has a residual smell of salt and butter, so it must be from popcorn. He must like it considerably if he has it around even when writing an advance notice." Spade rattled off his reasons.

Hachi was wholly amazed. Spade had gleaned so many traits of the sender from just a small piece of paper. "Huh! You're incredible, Spade-san! It's like you're a detective!"

Spade slipped down a little. "Ha ha, you could say that," he laughed. "Deductions aren't exclusive to detectives. Phantom thieves have to be able to deduce, too. Of course, Joker already knew all of this, yes?" he said, bringing Joker back in.

Caught off-guard, Joker went along with what he was saying. "Huh? Y-Y-Yeah, 'course I did! I figured that all out yesterday!"

"The advance notice hadn't arrived yet yesterday."

"Shush!"

Then Spade sighed. "Really now... why did Noir send advance notice to you, of all people?"

"Kyo kyo, it's a mystery..." Dark Eye's shoulders dropped, and so did Spade's.

"Shut up! What did you come here for, anyway!?"

"I just wanted to discuss this man called Phantom Thief Noir with you."

"I've got nothing to discuss with you. I bet you just had your treasure targeted by Noir and started second-guessing yourself, right?"

"S-Say what?"

"Ever since way back when, you've had trouble getting anything done on your own!"

"HUH? I came here out of the goodness of my heart. I knew that instead of speculating on Noir's identity or formulating a decent plan, you'd try to come up with something random on the spot!"

"Oh yeah!? Well that's my style!" Joker argued as he scowled at Spade.

"He's got a point there, Hosshi."

"Hosshi."

Hachi and Hosshi murmured to each other. But the pair weren't done bickering yet.

"Besides, I don't need a plan! A phantom thief's battle starts when he shows up, that's what makes it interesting!"

"And how much trouble do you think your lack of preparedness has caused me!?"

"When did I ever give you trouble!?"

"Plenty of times!"

"Then be specific! What year, month, day, hour, minute, and second!? What planet, country, region, prefecture, city, ward, block, address, and room number!?"

"That childish attitude of yours is the issue!"

"Shut up! If I'm childish, then so are you!"

"I'm more mature than you, at least!"

"Someone who's mature doesn't shout like that!"

"You're the one shouting so loud!"

"I'm what!?"

"Got a problem!?"

Their foreheads were pressed tightly together as they snarled at each other with vehement looks.

"Cut it out!"

"Kyo kyo, please stop!"

Once Hachi and Dark Eye intervened as usual, Joker and Spade finally pulled away from each other and simultaneously looked the other way with a "Hmph!"

"We're leaving, Dark Eye. It seems Joker has no need of my generosity," Spade beckoned to Dark Eye, and he started walking toward the door. Joker jeered from behind him.

"Yeah, go ahead and leave. I don't need your stinking 'generosity'. I don't trust you in the first place!"

"Likewise," he said, turning back around. Joker and Spade glared at each other once more.

"Don't come back!"

"Who would!"

Spade placed a hand on the exterior door. "It was quite a displeasure..." Spade said, and jumped out into the open. Dark Eye hurried after him.

"Bleh! That's what I wanna say!"

After watching Spade's airship, the Twin Thunder Shark, fly away, Hachi turned back around to Joker. Joker was grumbling and taking out his anger on a cushion. His temper was worse than usual this time...

"Joker-san, you went too far."

"Hmph! I went just far enough for him. The way he's always so patronizing and tries to tell me what to do pisses me off." Joker lay back down on the sofa.

Is that the truth? wondered Hachi. Maybe Spade had come to visit Joker because he was worried. The two of them may have been rivals, but they had once lived together under the same roof. Perhaps Spade had wanted to talk to Joker about Noir, as an old friend... If Spade had received an advance notice as well, he was definitely at least a little uneasy. And if he came to consult with Joker, who might have also received a notice, then...

Hachi remembered how Spade had looked a little desolate from behind when exiting. Joker had calmed down a little by now and was lying down with his back turned, sulking. Hachi sighed, when...

Suddenly, lightning flashed outside the window, and a loud tremor shook the Sky Joker...

[avelera]

So in Monsterhearts (tabletop rpg where you can play out YA stories like Buffy or Teen Wolf) right now I’m basically playing the “anti-Buffy” - that is, a “Chosen” who has zero interest in being a teenager, who just wants to do their duty and perform their mission.

Her name is Eritha and she has a watcher named Francis, who tells her that at the end of her training to join the Order (yeah, deliberately generic title of a monster-hunting organization) she suffered some sort of training accident that wiped most of her memories, back to when she was first accepted for training. She still has the skills, but she needs to rely on him to pick the targets and provide guidance. From the beginning, the relationship was set up to be super shady and questionable, was he really on her side or was he a villain taking advantage of a powerful monster hunter’s amnesia?

Well we just had the “season finale” (Monsterhearts breaks down in “seasons” like a show) and HOOOO BOY WAS THERE AN OPTION C. And I’m kinda geeking out about it. Like, literally I’m writing fic for my tabletop RPG that literally 3 people will understand.

Because here’s the thing, both Francis and Eritha are immortal, but Eritha has been cursed to forget everything back to when she was a teenager every year and at the end of Season 1, we learned exactly what Francis’s shady motives were in being her Watcher given how she’s been cursed like this.

(And yes, if you noticed some shades of Lights Out in this, good job, I actually started this game before I wrote Lights Out and before I saw The Old Guard)

I always knew Eritha was an immortal, in fact. I wanted to do an interesting variation on the “Chosen” idea where the reason this “Buffy-like” figure is so powerful is because she really is old and terrifyingly experienced. Eritha is actually 3,000 years old, based on a real Bronze Age priestess of Athena who had the same name. But Monsterhearts needs to take place in a high school, so she needs to herself believe she’s a teenager to not just totally ignore the point and premise of the game. This part I knew. I deliberately told the DM that her watcher Francis is immortal too, but younger than her, and whether or not he was a villain or a sincere Watcher was up to her judgement so that while I was playing this amnesiac, I could be in suspense too. And HOLY SHIT did it work out.

Because basically, Eritha is Andromache from the Old Guard if she had amnesia and Francis is basically Booker if he was 1) desperately in love with her and 2) at the end of his fucking rope because Eritha’s amnesia cycles every year. Every year she goes back to think she’s a teenager that just finished her training but sometimes during the year she gets flashes of the lives she’s forgotten. Because her amnesia didn’t use to be one year, it used to be ten years when she and Francis first met and, oh yeah, fell in love. Then a hundred years ago it was down to 5 years. And now because the cycles shorten every time she dies, she’s down to one year. Her and Francis are down to one year.

So he’s stopped giving a fuck about anything except breaking this curse on her, because it is a curse. How or why it happened hasn’t been revealed yet, but it turns out he was both the villain of the season, setting events in motion to open a Hellmouth because inside it is a powerful artifact that can break curses, AND he was on her side the whole time. Painfully, desperately on her side. And it blindsided me because I thought he was either secretly against her and a villain or he was actually for her and sincere and maybe in love with her. It never even occurred to me until he did his villain reveal in the final episode that he could be both on her side and the villain. 

Anyway, I’ve been geeking out about this for a bit now and also wrote about 4k of a ficlet from his POV just to have somewhere to put all these FEELINGS and I needed to geek out here too.

[sweetiepie08]

RebelZ (Chapter 9)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

“Care to tell us what the fuck that was?” the Dib shouted as they ran down the hall.

“A coup, obviously,” Zim shot back. “Just not one where you seize power at the end. So, half a coup.”

“So then who seizes power now?”

“The Tallest Red and Purple still have it,”

Dib nearly tripped over his own feet in his shock. “You mean you didn’t kill them?”

“It’s nearly impossible to poison an Irken,” Tak explained. “The PAK filters out most toxins. You can incapacitate them, though, for a short period of time.”

“So you basically just quit your job in spectacular fashion,” Dib said indignantly.

Tak almost couldn’t believe it. Zim must be sincere in his betrayal. He poisoned the Tallest and declared to the entire upper crust of the Irken military that it was intentional. There was no coming back from that. Every other disaster he caused could reasonably be argued as a mistake. But there could be no doubt here. Zim truly had turned on the empire.

Yet, something still didn’t sit quite right with her. If he had gone rebel, if he had truly turned traitor, then his life clock would have gone off like hers did. One would reasonably assume the impotence for this betrayal was her discovery of the Control Brains parasite, but she was with him ever since she told him that news and she never saw his life clock go off. But that could only mean something else prompted him at an earlier date. So the question was, what made Zim finally snap?

They came to a split in the hallway. Tak started going right while Zim went left.

“Uh, the Voot is this way,” Tak called.

“I’m not going to the Voot,” Zim yelled back. “I’m going to the control room.”

Dib and Tak cast each other a glance, then followed him. They found him crouched behind a door at the end of the hall and joined him in his hiding spot. Dib took a peak inside. There, dozens of Irkens worked at their stations. They seemed unaware that, for now, their leaders were incapacitated.

Zim tapped his PAK and a metal ball flew into his hands. He pulled a pin, tossed it in, and smashed the control panel, shutting the door. They heard coughing from the other side and, after a few minutes, opened the door to find the Irkens unconscious on the floor.

“So, what are we doing in here again?” Dib asked, as they stepped into the room.

Zim grabbed one of the Irkens who still slouched in their chair and threw them to the floor. “Wiping Urth off the navigation map.” He sat down and the monitor and started messing with the buttons. “If I’m going to continue to use it as my home base, I can’t have them finding it.”

“Not so fast,” Tak slapped his fingers away from the buttons. “Before this goes any further, I need answers. If you’re truly on our side, there’s only one way your life clock didn’t go off.”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“You had a rebellious thought!” Tak declared. “When?”

“Three Urth years ago.”

“Three years?” Dib shouted, stepping up to them. “But I’ve been watching you. Why were you still trying to conquer Earth if you kinda-quit three years ago?”

“I wasn’t.”

“But I saw you building machines!” Dib argued.

“They weren’t for me!” Zim shot back.

Tak began to ask “But how-” before Zim cut her off.

“Silence!” he shouted. “Silence your questions! I need to concentrate.”

Zim continued typing on the buttons until a picture of the Earth appeared on the screen. The stats were scarce, save for the coordinates and the note, ‘that place where Zim is.’ The little blue ball of dirt and water had gone unnoticed by the empire, noteworthy only as a banishment site. To them, it was merely a place to keep Zim contained, far away from anything important. But after the stunt they pulled today, it would be a target.

Another few clicks of a button and the Urth was gone, leaving only a blank file in its wake. All Irken military ships automatically synced with the Massive. If it was gone from this data base, it was essentially invisible to all Irkens. If they wanted to find Urth again, they’d have to scour the universe for it. But why stop at Urth?

“Let’s dump it all,” Tak said.

“What?”

“Erase the database,” she said. “It’ll be a crippling blow to the empire.”

“Do we really have time to erase everything?” Dib asked. The human made a good point.

“Jut the maps then,” she suggested. “They would have to rebuild their navigation systems from scratch and it would send the fleet into disarray.”

“Zim is no radical!” Zim snapped. “I’m only doing this to cover my own ass.”

“Not a raical?” Dib scoffed. “You just poisoned your own leaders.”

“That was personal,” Zim argued. “This is political.”

“And what about those weapons you’re building?!” Dib shot back. “If they’re not for Irk, then who are they for?”

“Zim’s business deals are none of your… um… business!”

“Shut up!” Tak commanded, taking a seat at another monitor. “We don’t have time for this! Let’s get these maps erased and get out of here.”

“If you even make it that far,” a chorus of voices answered.

Dib looked around. “Who said that?”

“We did, human.”

Every Irken in the room rose to their feet. Tak prepared herself for a fight. Her eyes darted as she watched them all, poised to deploy the weapons in her PAK. But none made a move to attack. They all stood there, stalk still, with a dead look in their eyes.

Dib gaped at the sight. “H-how are you…”

“Silence Urth Creature!” the possessed Irkens shouted in unison, turning their cold eyes toward Dib. “Do not interrupt us again!” Dib shut his mouth and the Irkens calmed. “Congratulations defectives” they said, now addressing Zim and Tak. “It’s been centuries since we had to resort to total override, but mark our words, you will pay for this waste of food.”

“What do you care for waste?” Tak spat back at them. “You throw Irken lives away every day in your conquest.”

“A calculated cost to bring me more to feed from in the long term,” the Irkens explained with their eerily monotone voices. “You should know about calculated risks. Don’t forget, we see everything you do.”

“When have I ever sacrificed good soldiers?”

Every possessed Irken in the room wore the same mocking smirk. “All through your training days. Don’t you remember? We saw everything you did, every little cheat to get ahead.”

The Irkens tapped buttons on their control boards and soon, every monitor showed various scenes from Tak’s training years. “Electrodes hidden in your boots to cripple race opponents. Stealing test answers and planting them in a rival’s locker after copying them for yourself. You got top scores on your exams and excelled at your drills, but is it really victory if you have to sabotage your competitions? Oh sure, you studied and trained, but it never felt like enough, did it? Never thought you could win a fair fight. Had to tear someone else down first. Maybe, if it weren’t for all your cheating, we’d have let you make up your Elite ranking test. After all, we allowed everyone else who was inconvenienced by the blackout to take it.” Their smirks grew as they twisted the knife further. “Just not you.”

Tak ground her teeth together as she watched the images play out on the screen. There was no denying them. The monitors played footage from her own memory bank. They showed her and everyone else who she really was. She work so hard. She clawed her way to the top and did everything she could to stay there. But it was all a lie. And now they knew it. What was worse, Zim knew it. That little pain in the ass managed to make it to elite the first time, even while being a walking disaster, and he never had to deliberately cheat. The idea of him lording that over her was enough to make her blood boil.

“Perhaps you can prove everyone wrong, though,” the Irken voices went on. “Take the honest route for once in your life. Tell Zim what you learned on your little trip to Refirencee. Tell him what you suspect.”

“Fool!” Zim scoffed. “Zim already accessed Tak’s memories. I know everything she knows about the Control Brain parasite.”

“Yes, you saw the same books. But did you reach the same conclusions?”

“Guys! Don’t you see what it’s doing?” The Dib burst in. “It’s distracting you. It’s keeping you here until your leaders recover. Let’s erase those maps and get out of here!”

“Silence!” Zim snapped at Dib, then turned back to the dead-eyed Irkens. “Tell Zim what you know, creepy hive-mind…thing!”

“Have you ever wondered why you’re such a failure? Why you destroy everything you touch? Why, no matter what you do, everything always blows up in your face? It’s because you have no choice in the matter. It’s what you were made for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before we push for something big, we require extra sustenance. We take this sustenance in what some have called a blood toll. On our first planet, we made many mistakes, one was asking our hosts directly for sacrifices. We know better now.”

“Ans what does this have to do with me?” Zim growled impatiently.

“Since the beginning of our reign, one PAK has been passed down through generations, carrying a suppressed impulse for destruction. We need only to activate it and we have our blood toll. Clearly our PAK has become quite damaged over the years. It no longer works quite right. You’re so defective, you couldn’t even declare your name right.”

The screen flashed the name Zim across it. It then reversed the letters and spread them out to reveal an acronym. ZIM became MIZ. And MIZ became Massacre Initiator Z.

“You were supposed to live as a low-ranking drone until we activated your destructive impulse and die in the disaster. You, however, defied us at every turn. We kept you alive out of sheer curiosity. We wanted to see how your life would play out. It’s been entertaining, however, you’ve become too great a burden to bare.”

Zim stood motionless, staring straight ahead. They waited for the typical Zim outburst of “lies!” or declaring his greatness, but nothing came. His eyes looked as dead as the possessed Irkens around them. He said nothing, did nothing. As much as Tak couldn’t stand Zim’s obnoxious voice or erratic behavior, watching him be so still was chilling.

Tak’s antenna perks at the sound of footsteps trooping down the hall. The Dib’s head darted for the door. “Guy! Come on! We’re out of time!”

Tak smacked Zim’s lifeless body away from the control panel. “Do you think you can stop us by getting into our heads?”

“Oh simple Tak,” the Irkens sighed. “We've lived in your heads since you were fitted with your packs.”

Tak sneered at them. “I cut you off for me and I won't rest until every Irken is free of you.”

“Please, you worked your whole life to get our attention. You finally have it. Do you want to throw that away? Perhaps we can find a place with someone of your drive and ingenuity.”

“Liars!” Did they think she was stupid? She knew as well as it that treason of this scale would never go unpunished. Even if they tried to appease her with a higher rank or a cushy job, it’d only be a matter of time before they got rid of her. But even the fact that it was trying to negotiate meant something. She was a threat to it, and she would stay a threat until the day she died.

“We you know you, Tak. You’re a plotter. You won't do anything rash.”

They don’t know me half as well as they think. “Want a bet?” She started hitting buttons on the control board. An alert came up on the screen and the voice blared from the speakers. “All maps queued for deletion. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

She hit one more button and the screen went black. “Deletion successful.”

“Take that you parasite bitch.”

“Come on,” Dib begged, pulling on her arm. The footsteps were noticeably louder. “We have to go now!”

Tak took off running and Dib pulled on the frozen Zim until his legs moved. They burst into the hall and immediately came across a group of Irkan soldiers. “There they are!” one of the soldiers cried.

Tak led the way as they ran toward the ship’s hanger. The soldiers fired at them. A laser cannon popped out of Tak’s pack and returned fire, but it was difficult for her to aim while leading the dash to the Voot. She wished one of her companions had could back her up with a pistol but Zim was still barely conscious and Dib was preoccupied with keeping his legs moving. The sound of little metallic feet running beside them gave her an idea.

“Zim, tell me your SIR unit to go into defensive mode.

There was no response. Zim was as helpful as a sack of empty ginzor cans.

“Hey Zim’s robot,” Dib said to the little SIR unit.

Gir looked up at him curiously. “Hmm?”

“Don't you have any weapons or something?”

“Huh?”

“You know, something that makes pretty lights and goes ‘pew, pew’?”

“Oh that. I got that.” A giant laser cannon popped out of his head and he fired wildly into the soldiers behind them, forcing the Irkens to scatter for cover

Finally, they made it to the hangar and all jumped in the Voot. Zim slid zombie-like into the pilot seat.

“Come on,” Dib said, shaking Zim’s shoulder. “Get us out of here!”

“Zim!” Tak snapped. “If you don't fly this ship, I will!”

That seemed to work. Zim shook off whatever stupor he was in and his usual look of single-minded determination returned to his eyes. “No one pilots Zim’s ship but Zim!” He took hold of the controls and the ship roared to life. In a flash, they took off into the stars.

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【倾落心扉】 Xia Yan | Falling into the Heart Date Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist

Video

Another date from early on in the timeline (seems like it happens right after MC and Xia Yan’s reunion in Chapter 1).

All Xia Yan dates have now been translated!

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PART 1

Home

Recently, it’s been raining nonstop for the past few days. It finally cleared up when weekend arrived.

I pulled open the curtains. Just when I was pondering about where to go walk around, my phone on the table vibrated. It was Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: MC, do you have time today?

MC: Mhmm, what’s up? Got something that you need my help for?

Xia Yan: You can count it as help. I just received a very interesting multinational commission and wanted to find you to go together.

MC: Multinational…?

Xia Yan: Yeah, the client settled outside the country a long time ago and requested that I get something from his old house. It’s rare for the weather to be this good, so how about it – are you coming?

MC: (Looks like you calling me out to help is just an act, and you actually just want to relieve boredom…)

MC: Okay, where are we meeting?

Xia Yan: Heh heh, I’m just downstairs at your place. Hurry!

MC: Downstairs?!

As soon as I got downstairs, I saw a taxi stopped at the roadside. Xia Yan stuck out his head from the taxi window, smiling as he waved at me. Seeing him look full of vivacity, I also couldn’t resist waving at him and rushing over.

-

Taxi

As soon as I got on the car, I heard Xia Yan urge the taxi driver to immediately set out.

MC: You’re in this much of a rush? Where are we going?

Xia Yan: We’re going to a suburban villa area. The thing we need to get is placed in an old house there.

MC: For a matter as simple as “helping get and deliver”, does it really need one to specifically seek a detective?

Xia Yan: I often receive commissions about extraction of material evidence. It’s just that this time is somewhat special. My client is old and needs to take care of her severely ill husband and can’t personally return right now. She only found me after inquiring in many places.

MC: She specifically sought you?

Xia Yan: Naturally. I’m different from other detectives!

Different? Speaking of the largest difference between him and other detectives…

MC: I remember that you opened an antiques shop… could it be that the client wants you to find something old?

Xia Yan: That’s right! The old thing we’re looking for is a vintage magnetic tape.

Vintage tapes sounded right off the bat like an item with an extreme feeling of age. Update speeds to current recording equipment were becoming faster and faster, and magnetic tapes already had been submerged in the currents of history – they were rarely mentioned.

MC: (She specifically sought out a detective to get a magnetic tape… could there be something very important in it?)

Xia Yan: Are you curious about what important things are in the tape?

Was it because he saw me not speak for too long? Xia Yan suddenly said what I was thinking.

MC: Mm… ah! If the client requires you to keep it secret, then don’t say it…

Xia Yan: You’re my assistant, so of course you can ask. Plus, I trust you.

Xia Yan: Although the taxi can only stop near the villa area. We still have to walk for a while to get to our target destination, so let’s save our energy. I’ll tell you about it slowly when we get to our destination.

MC: Mm!

--

Outside Suburban Villas

MC: We finally made it!

The route to the villa area was complicated, just like a maze. Our trip was full of circles and turns, and we finally arrived at our destination.

Xia Yan: I originally just wanted to take you out for a breath of fresh air and to get some exercise on the side. Didn’t think that your stamina would be so good. If I take you mountain-climbing, you probably would be fine, right?

MC: That’s for sure! Got a new level of respect for me this time?

Xia Yan: During this period of time, have the times that I’ve gotten a new level of respect for you been few, great-law-yer?

MC: Your praise is too much, alright? Great-detec-tive!

MC: The client probably gave you keys, right? You should hurry and open the door.

Xia Yan took a key out from his jacket and carefully opened the main door. When he pushed the door, the particular scent of wooden furniture blew in our faces.

 --

Old Western House

Time had eroded at the old house’s surface bricks and tiles, but they had never truly been stepped on. Refined and stylish wooden furniture, indigo porcelain flower vases, and crystal chandeliers that were dark, but sparkled under the sunlight… In the silence of time, it told of a secret that was only theirs.

MC: Whoa… I feel like the two people who lived here originally have got a pretty good taste in life.  

Xia Yan: Based on the materials they provided, this house’s owner was an intellectual with an affluent family background.

MC: Is that so - no wonder I see so many books and scrolls.

MC: Oh right, you haven’t told me about the magnetic tape.

Xia Yan: … Actually, the client isn’t clear on exactly what is in the tape.

PART 2

Xia Yan: … Actually, the client isn’t clear on exactly what is in the tape.

MC: Eh? Then she’s searching for this…

Xia Yan: To help her severely-ill husband recover his memories.

MC: Recover his memories?

Xia Yan: Mm, this is also one of the most important reasons why I took this commission.

Xia Yan: The client is an old grandma of over 60 years old. The grandma’s husband got into an accident over ten years ago, and after surgery, got retrograde amnesia. Typical patients won’t be able to recall certain segments of memories from before the accident, but the grandpa’s situation is extremely severe. He’s basically completely forgotten all past matters…

MC: Then the grandma must be very sad…

Xia Yan: Though she’s sad, the grandma has never given up. She’s kept searching for a way to recover the grandpa’s memories. This year, the grandpa suddenly kept repeating about the tape. The grandma was seriously happy and looked all over the house, but didn’t find the tape that the grandpa was talking about.

MC: So the grandma thought, could the thing be left in the old house from before leaving the country?

Xia Yan: Bingo!

Smiling, Xia Yan winked at me.

MC: Something that can help him remember things must be very important to him.

I originally thought that this was a simple trip to search for something. I never would’ve thought that this kind of story was behind it… I silently made up my mind that I wouldn’t give up before upturning the house upside down!

MC: Then let’s start searching now!

I rolled up my sleeves, preparing to start my so-called “carpet-style” search, when Xia Yan tugged at my arm.

Xia Yan: You aren’t planning to start searching like this, right?

MC: Like this…? Like what? Is something wrong?

Xia Yan: Wait a bit.

Xia Yan pulled out two pairs of gloves from his pocket.

Xia Yan: There’s a layer of dust all over the place here. I brought gloves – stick out your hands, I’ll put them on for you. After all, it’s better to be a little careful when rummaging through things everywhere.

I stuck out my hands, and Xia Yan put the gloves on me.

MC: Thank you… I was just rushing to search and didn’t pay attention to that…

Xia Yan: No big deal. When you’re searching in a moment, remember to watch out for if there’s a safe anywhere.

MC: Aren’t we looking for the tape? Why are we also looking for the safe?

Xia Yan: Apparently, before the grandpa moved, he specifically bought a safe, saying that he wanted to put something in it. The grandma didn’t pay much attention to it back then, as she thought that it was for stuff like real estate documents. Later, when she was looking for things, she noticed that these documents were all nearby. Only then did she feel that something was off. So she suggested to us that, if we can’t find the tape anywhere, it might be in that safe.

MC: I understand. But if we really find the safe, did she tell you the passcode—

Hearing me ask about the passcode, Xia Yan heaved a heavy sigh.

MC: …I forgot that he forgot.

Why does that sound a bit like a tongue-twister…

Xia Yan: The grandma also did her best to ask, but unfortunately, she got nothing. But she did provide us with a clue. She said that in the past, the grandpa loved making sudoku puzzles to work on with her. Maybe this time, it also…

Making sudoku puzzles for the grandma? I remembered that in the past, Xia Yan loved to have me solve his math competition questions, waiting for me to beg him after I couldn’t solve them…

MC: The grandpa must have been a science student…

Xia Yan: Wrong, the grandpa comes from humanities studies. The grandma’s the one in science.

MC: Eh? So he was just flexing his slight skill to an expert when he made those puzzles for the grandma…

Xia Yan: About this…

Xia Yan showed a meaningful smile, deliberately dragging out the last word.

MC: If you’ve got something to say, then say it. Don’t keep me in suspense!

Xia Yan: I was just about to say it!

Xia Yan: When the grandma was recalling it, she remembered when the grandpa confessed to her at the beginning, he sent her a confession sudoku.

MC: … The grandpa really was serious.

Xia Yan: Yeah. It’s just a pity that it’s been too long and the grandma can’t find that sudoku anymore.

Xia Yan: Although this is only our guess. If they really didn’t leave any way to crack the code, I can only…

Only do what…? Could he have brought a tool that can crack open safes?

Xia Yan: Find a lock-opening company after reporting it to my client…

MC: I thought that you were going to take out another high-tech tool.

Xia Yan: Even if I did have one, we still have to go through authorized processes.

MC: I’m joking – could you actually have that kind of tool?

Xia Yan: Of course!

Xia Yan: Alright. The house is so big, so let’s divide and conquer – you take the left and I’ll take the right to save time.

MC: Okay.

Xia Yan I split up, using the bookshelf in the middle of the house as the boundary. The junk room, kitchen, cloakroom. I searched each room one by one, and all were completely empty. No point bringing up the tape and the safe… I didn’t even have the chance to rummage through the cabinets a few more times…

MC: They were way too thorough when moving houses… aside from books, there are only books. Was it because they were too heavy and couldn’t be moved over? There’s only this bookroom left… finally, I can see some other –

Just when I walked in, I saw a magnetic tape player placed on the book table.

MC: Could it be in the tape player?!

PART 3

MC: Could it be in the tape player?!

I expectantly opened the case slot of the tape player on the table. It was still as empty as everything before. After closing the tape player, I turned around, seeing Xia Yan walk into the book room. The gloves he’d originally been wearing had already been taken off.

MC: You’re also done searching? How’s the situation?

Xia Yan: I haven’t gotten anything for now on that side. What about you?

MC: Same here… it’s empty everywhere.

MC: But there are a lot of things in the book room, and there’s also an empty magnetic tape player on the table.

Xia Yan: The grandpa probably listened to the tape often in the book room, so he placed it here. If so, the tape won’t be placed somewhere very far from the tape player. It must be inside the book room.

MC: If the grandpa really did put the tape in the safe, then the safe should also been in the book room.

Xia Yan: That’s right! Let’s search together!

We rummaged through every corner of the bookroom, but we still didn’t find any traces of the tape or the safe.

MC: Ugh, there’s only this bookshelf left…

A large, tall bookshelf was placed on the left side of the book room. There were cabinets that could be pulled open at the bottom, and there were rows of shelves stuffed with books at the top.

MC: There are a lot of things on here…

Xia Yan: This bookshelf is too high, so I’ll search it. You haven’t rested yet, so do you want to sit for a moment?

MC: I’m fine. The great detective hasn’t rested, so how could the assistant that I am also take a rest? You search the top and I’ll search the bottom – we’ll still divide the work!

Xia Yan: As you wish, master assistant!

Even Xia Yan couldn’t completely reach the topmost level of this bookshelf. I was just about to suggest bringing in a chair to boost him up when I saw him carrying in a step stool inside. After setting up the step stool, Xia Yan mibly stepped on. I hurriedly reached out to support the edge of the step stool for him to maintain its balance.

Xia Yan: Don’t worry. I just tried it – this step stool is very secure.

MC: That’s good, but it looks like it’s swaying a little to me – be careful.

I crouched down and opened the bookshelf’s lowermost cabinet. It was piled full with all sorts of book collections inside, and I didn’t notice anything aside from that. I closed the cabinet, stood up, and tilted my head up to look towards the upper shelves. All sorts of books were placed on the shelves; with one glance, I saw—

MC: Sudoku practice question collection?

Remembering the guess that the grandma had said before, I took out that practice question collection. After casually flipping through a few pages, I saw that all the problems had been completed.

MC: (It seems like… there isn’t anything special… in here…)

I held up the practice question collection, wanting to hand it to Xia Yan. I didn’t realize that a little paper slip would fall out from between the pages.

MC: !!!

There was a sudoku problem on the paper. On the problem, there were 16 empty circles, forming a heart shape. There were also pen marks at the top of the problem!

MC: “The world decodes the language of flowers. Only you decode my heart.”

MC: (2… 1… 4… no matter how you look at it, these three numbers in the middle are like that of a confession…)

--

[Flashback]

Xia Yan: When the grandma was recalling it, she remembered when the grandpa confessed to her at the beginning, he sent her a confession sudoku.

MC: … The grandpa really was serious.

Xia Yan: Yeah. It’s just a pity that it’s been too long, and the grandma can’t find that sudoku anymore.

[Flashback end]

--

MC: Could it be…

I rushed to pick up that sheet of paper and called Xia Yan’s name.

MC: Xia Yan! I’ve noticed something major!!!

Xia Yan: What did you notice?

Hearing my shouts, Xia Yan rushed to jump down from the step stool.

MC: Guess!

I hid the paper behind my body, wanting to tease him.

Xia Yan: Did you find the sudoku problem that’s suspected to be the passcode?

MC: I guess so… although how did you know that it was a sudoku?

Xia Yan: I noticed a safe behind the pile of books on the uppermost shelf of the bookshelf. Not to mention, you’re holding a sudoku practice question collection – I just needed to link them up to guess it.

MC: I just thought that I noticed that confession sudoku that the grandma couldn’t find. So there really was a safe.

MC: Look.

I handed the sheet I was holding over to Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: !!!

MC: What’s the matter? You seem really surprised…?

Xia Yan: I-it’s nothing… I just happened to have seen this problem before…

How could Xia Yan have seen this problem before… could he have specifically investigated after hearing about the grandma’s memories?

MC: What a coincidence! Do you still remember the answer?

Xia Yan: I remember, I remember! Even if I never saw this before, I could still solve it!

Xia Yan: The way to solve this problem is very easy. Under sudoku’s general rules, the 16 empty circles must be filled with even numbers. Fill in the odd numbers of each 3 x 3 area first, and the answer in the circles will naturally be solved. Wanna try?

PART 4

Xia Yan: Wanna try?

MC: Me? Sure!

I sat beside the table, and Xia Yan handed me a pen.

MC: In the upper left corner, aside from the two circles, the remaining three squares should be filled in with 1, 3, and 9 individually… The first column already has 1 and 9, so the upper left corner should be filled with 3… If the middle square is filled with 9, then the rightmost square in the second row should be filled with one, but that column already has a 1…

MC: So it should be filled with 1, and the remaining square should be filled with 9!

Xia Yan: That’s right. Even though we only filled in three numbers, we can use this to derive the numbers in the other squares.

Xia Yan: Come on, let’s keep going with the next!

Under Xia Yan’s patient guidance, I finally finished solving this sudoku.

MC: 16 circles – a typical person wouldn’t set up such a long passcode…

Xia Yan: Ah… I forgot to tell you that the safe that I noticed only has a three-digit password.

MC: This problem just happens to have three empty circles. But three numbers can be ordered in six ways.

MC: A typical safe only allows you to enter the wrong code three times, and we don’t have other clues…

Xia Yan: Looks like we can only hope to get lucky.

MC: Then do you want to try?

Xia Yan stepped on the step stool again.

Xia Yan: 2, 4, 6…

Beep beep—

The passcode lock was opened.

Xia Yan: We got it this easily – it opened on our first try!

MC: See if the tape is in the box!

Xia Yan: Let me see…

Both of Xia Yan’s hands felt inside. I noticed that the newspaper beside his hand seemed to be about to slip off…

MC: Xia Yan, be careful about the newspaper beside your hand.

Xia Yan: I know. There’s something in the box, so I’ll get it out first.

MC: Okay…

I tilted my head up, looking at Xia Yan. He turned around, handing the thing he had found to me, with his left hand stably holding onto those old newspapers that were about to fall. The dust covering the top was stirred by his movements, floating slowly in the air, drawing out subtle marks. An orangey light shone on his body, covering him in a sweet, honey-like colour.

>Select: Leg

MC: Sit down a bit – I feel like your sitting position right now is a bit dangerous…

Xia Yan: Don’t worry – my sense of balance is very good, and I won’t fall down.

>Select: Leg (2)

Xia Yan: W-what are you doing…

MC: Some… some dust fell there! So I…

>Select: Leg (3)

MC: (I’m really jealous of guys with long legs…)

>Select: Stool

MC: I’ve wanted to ask from the start – where did you find this ladder?

Xia Yan: I saw it earlier when we passed by the stairs – back then, I felt a strong premonition. Sure enough, it came in handy!

>Select: Stool (2)

MC: (The ladder is a triangular structure… it should be very stable.)

>Select: Stool (3)

MC: (Though it’s very stable, it’s still better to not bump into it for Xia Yan’s safety…)

>Select: File

MC: (So it was a leather file envelope after all…)

>Select: File (2)

MC: (It doesn’t look like it has a magnetic tape inside…)

>Select: File (3)

MC: (Whatever – without X-ray vision, I won’t be able to see anything just from looking…)

>Select: Ellipses

Xia Yan waved the hand holding the leather file envelope in front of me, calling me back to reality.

MC: What?

Xia Yan: No wonder you didn’t pay any attention to me no matter how I called at you. Turns out you were zoning out. Quick, take the file envelope – I’m still holding up the newspapers on top, and I don’t have hands to spare for now.

MC: Mm, sure!

MC: Wait… a-achoo!

The pretty dust under the light had now found its way into my nose. I hadn’t taken the file envelope when I sneezed in Xia Yan’s direction.

His seating position was unstable, and only after some messy movements did he manage to maintain his bit of balance on the stool supporting him.

MC: …

Xia Yan: Q-quick, back up a bit!

Seeing Xia Yan look so panicked on the ladder, I hurriedly retreated by a few steps.

MC: S-sorry, the dust…

Xia Yan: I’m not blaming you – I’m just afraid that you won’t be able to dodge if I really do fall.

So Xia Yan’s panicked look just now was out of worry for me…

MC: I’m fine – you should hurry down from the ladder.

Xia Yan: Sure.

Xia Yan handed the file envelope to me. I was just about to take it, when the dust scattered by the old newspapers made him sneeze successively, multiple times.

Xia Yan: A-achoo--!

Xia Yan retracted his left hand slightly, and the newspapers on the bookshelf suddenly fell down in a pile!

Xia Yan: Ah! Careful--!

With my attention previously fixed on the file envelope, I couldn’t duck away at all!

Amidst the panic, I unconsciously closed my eyes.

  PART 5

I heard the heavy sound of the ladder toppling down, but the pain I was expecting never struck. Xia Yan’s warm hand protected my head from behind, serving as the cushion between me and the floorboards.

I opened my eyes. Xia Yan’s and my faces were very close.

MC: …?

After my thoughts stagnated for a few seconds, I gradually came to from my surprise.

MC: Xia Yan? Are you alright?

Xia Yan: Huh?!

It seemed like he hadn’t recovered from this accident yet. His wide-open eyes stared right at me.

The distance between him and me was way too close – only then did I notice that I had never clearly seen his eyes. That beautiful coral colour made me unable to resist recalling the fairytale I read when I was little – the skirt of Princess Aurora.* Because we were so close, I could even clearly see me, at an utter loss, in his eyes.

MC: The things that fell just now crashed into your head – lower it and let me see…

Xia Yan remained frozen still in his original place, staring straight at me.

Xia Yan: Your eyes…

MC: Hm?

Xia Yan: Are really beautiful…

Xia Yan: They look like... a sky full of stars are hidden in them…

Xia Yan lowered his body, and the distance between him and I gradually—

Ding—

A crisp sound echoed in the quiet room. That key that Xia Yan always wore on his neck clinked lightly against the decoration on my blouse’s collar.

I suddenly regained my wits and immediately felt the heat on my cheeks.

MC: !!

Xia Yan: !!!

Xia Yan pulled away, fast as lightning, and awkwardly moved his gaze elsewhere. Those scattered, old newspapers covered his body, scattering innumerable particles into the air. The moment he moved his gaze from me, I saw that his cheeks and ears had been dyed with a distinct pink colour. Right when I was also somewhat unsure of what to do, I saw the file envelope that had fallen on the side from the corner of my eye—

MC: W-where’s the file envelope you were holding…

Xia Yan: Ah… ah! I’ll get up now and grab it!

As if he’d just woken up, Xia Yan straightened his body in front of me, bringing the sunshine scent he had that I’d smelled from a slight breeze. His slightly rapid breathing revealed his inner panic – he looked basically like a different person from the normal him.

Xia Yan: Does it hurt from the fall?!

MC: … No.

He shifted his gaze away again, turning his head and picking up the leather envelope on the ground. His embarrassed expression still did not fade away. I patted my chest, grateful that he had pulled away after getting up – otherwise, he would definitely hear my over-the-top heartbeat.

MC & Xia Yan: I…

…

MC: Hurry, open and see what’s inside…

Xia Yan: Mhmm…

Xia Yan rapidly untied the string loop at the back of the envelope.

Xia Yan: As expected, it was the tape! Now the commission’s been smoothly completed!

Xia Yan: … Speaking of which, aren’t you curious?

MC: Curious about what? The things in the tape?

Xia Yan nodded.

MC: I keep feeling like it’ll have something to do with the grandma…

He looked at me, seeming to smile yet also seeming to not smile. Only after a while did he say a few carefree words.

Xia Yan: That’s also what I think.

The moment his and my eyes met, my heartbeat suspiciously accelerated a bit.

MC: Could it be for the same reason as me?

Xia Yan: … I was just kind of thinking from another position.

MC: Hm?

Xia Yan: If it were me, what I least want to forget… is definitely you.

Xia Yan: Wait no – no matter what happens, I will definitely, definitely not forget you.

Xia Yan’s tone was incomparably solemn, leaving me at somewhat of a loss.

MC: Why did you suddenly…

Xia Yan: Those precious memories with you – if they were just words on a journal or the sounds on a tape… that would be too much of a waste!

He looked at me, showing his typical smile again. The orange light smoothed the curve of his mouth until it was just right. I felt like, no matter who it was, anyone would be infected by his warmth.

MC: I… there’s dust on your face – I’ll wipe it for you…

I didn’t know what to say, and when I saw the dust on the side of his face, I hurried to take out a handkerchief and wipe it for him. When the dust had been wiped, I looked back at Xia Yan… his face… was really red…

>Is it because it’s hot? >Embarrassed until his face got red?

MC: Xia Yan… your face is really red… Are you too tired from running up and down just now?

Xia Yan: Ah… yeah! It must be because it’s been too long since I worked out! Starting from tomorrow, I’ll double my original workout plan and make up for it!

MC: Is that needed…

  >Is it because it’s hot? >Embarrassed until his face got red?

MC: I’m just helping you wipe it – why is your face as red as an apple? When we were little, you’d go out and run all over the place and return completely dirty, and I also helped you wipe your face like this…

Xia Yan: Haha, don’t bring up the embarrassing things from when we were small – back then, I didn’t know anything. But after splitting apart for so long… there are some things… that I inevitably learned.

MC: …

 --

Xia Yan: Aiya, the floor’s a mess – I’ll clean up.

MC: I’ll help!

After finding the tape, Xia Yan and I returned the papers and books that had fallen on the floor back to their original places.

Xia Yan: Let’s go – we’re done cleaning up, so let’s go home!

MC: Mhmm.

Under Xia Yan’s urging, we left this remote mansion with the tape we had found.

  TL Note: 

*Not sure if this is referring to Sleeping Beauty? I don’t remember pretty eyes and skirts being major points in her story though…

  PART 6

TL Note: Italicized content (except for locations) were originally written in English in the game, not Chinese.

Antiques Shop

After getting back to the antiques shop, Xia Yan took out an audio reader from who-knows-where.

MC: With this, you’re planning to…?

Xia Yan: Oh, if I didn’t get my client’s approval, I wouldn’t randomly mess with it. The client this time specifically hoped that I could transfer the contents of the tape into an audio recording file and send it to her.

MC: That’s true. Very few families these days would have this kind of old-fashioned tape player.

Xia Yan placed the tape into the audio reader, connecting the recoding wire to the audio reader’s terminal.

Xia Yan: Alright! We can start.

Xia Yan pressed the play button. An inexperienced, youthful sound flowed out from the speaker.

Young Girl: “That…”

The owner of the voice was a very brisk girl.

Young Girl: “I’m too direct when I speak. I know you also like… uh… no! I found out from your friend that you like to listen to music. If you can understand this song… Do your best to not make me, a girl, take the initiative to confess! Dummy!”

After a short pause, the clear sound of the girl’s singing rung out…

Young Girl: “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older…”

She had clearly been so straightforward when she spoke, but when she sang, it was extremely gentle. A girl wearing earbuds, swaying gently with the music seemed to appear before my eyes… She used her own gentle voice, eyes, and movements… doing all within her ability to express her most sincere love to the recipient.

MC: What song is this? It sounds really good.

Xia Yan: I’ll check… “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”, an old song from 60 years ago.

The melodious song echoed in the antiques shop, every note reverberating in the bottom of the heart.

MC: No wonder the grandpa was so concerned about this tape… this was probably sung by the grandma for him when they were young.

Xia Yan: It’s impossible to not feel moved from receiving a confession like this.

MC: True, even I’m moved!

Xia Yan: Do you like this song a lot?

MC: I do… but no matter how good a song sounds, it’s only when the singer expresses emotions that they’ll be able to touch people’s hearts the most.

MC: I really want to have the grandpa listen to it fast!

After the sound of the music dissipated, Xia Yan took out the tape.

Xia Yan: Transferring the audio recording file is actually really quick, but I still need the next week to clean it up and make the sounds clearer.

MC: Great! That…

Xia Yan: What’s the matter?

MC: I want to listen to it for a moment more – can you play the original song?

Xia Yan: And here I thought you wanted to hear me sing.

MC: Could you? I remember that you just searched up the song name.

Xia Yan: I can learn if I don’t know how to – my learning ability is really strong.

MC: Okay, then I’ll invite great singing god Xia Yan to sing once!

 The sky grew gradually dimmer. Xia Yan sent me home, half humming and half singing the whole way. The night wind blew past, and the brisk melody rode on the wind, echoing at the end of the road.

 Home

MC: Download complete!

After getting home, I opened the music app I often used, search up this song, and downloaded it.

MC: Eh, this song was even the theme song of a movie? “50 First Dates”… First Love 50 Times? It’s a pretty interesting name. How about I call up Xia Yan next time to watch this movie?

Just when I was searching up resources on this movie, Xia Yan called.

MC: Have you gotten home?

Xia Yan: Mhmm, I did! I just received my client’s reply…

MC: So fast?

Xia Yan: It’s the time difference – she just happened to be online. What we found really was the confession tape that the grandma gave to the grandpa back then.

Xia Yan: Back then she wasn’t sure that it would be a success, so she placed the confession tap in a pile of music tapes and sent them over. But the grandpa didn’t react at all, so she thought that he didn’t hear it at all or lost it. Plus, afterwards, the grandpa didn’t continue to buy new tapes.

MC: Then in the end, they…

Xia Yan: About this…

Xia Yan’s tone was full of smiles.

Xia Yan: The grandma said, she originally thought that being just friends was also fine. After, it was the grandpa who took the initiative to chase her and confess.

MC: Wait, could it be with that confession sudoku?

Xia Yan: That’s right! The grandma was very reclusive back then, so as she lived on her own, she’d often make questions for fun.

MC: I never would’ve thought that the grandpa was faking a calm, collected demeanor, while actually being elated for sure internally…

Xia Yan: Yeah, the grandma also said that, no wonder he would often sneak into the book room in the past, staying there for a long time when he did.

MC: What the grandpa remembered at the end wasn’t the name of the song – instead, it was the tape. This means that what he loves isn’t this song – it’s the grandma.

Xia Yan: So she decided that she would sing for him in the future, regardless if he remembers it again or doesn’t.

Xia Yan: I wanted to tell you earlier so you would be happier.

Xia Yan: It’s pretty late now – sleep early. Goodnight!

MC: Goodnight!

Only after hanging up did I remember that I hadn’t told him about the movie.  

MC: Oh well… I’ll send him a message later.

--

Antiques Shop

Xia Yan sat before the table. The song was still playing on the terminal.

He hummed and sang quietly.

Xia Yan: When we can say goodnight and stay together. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up… In the morning when the day is new.

If we could say goodnight to each other and nestle together, if we could open our eyes together, welcoming each new morning, wouldn’t that be nice.

Xia Yan: I trust that, the precondition “if” doesn’t exist between me and you…

Xia Yan: I will definitely make all of this true.

-END-

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 7

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3667

Author’s Note: All my love to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for so much of all the things. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. 

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 7

“A goddamned hex bag, Sam. I didn’t even see whoever it was. I was going to the bathroom, they tapped my shoulder and shoved it in my hand as I turned around. I was...it was…”

Kimber trails off, not ready to share what she saw while under the influence. She rubs circles on her temples, calming the dull throb that’s persisted ever since she woke up. Sam waits patiently for her to finish, giving her time to gather her thoughts.The motel room smells faintly of fries and coffee, and the shower hisses in the background as Kimber does her best to fill Sam in on her near-catastrophe. 

She and Dean had come straight back to the room after finding their way off the roof. Kimber headed right for the bathroom, cranking the shower up as hot as it would go to try and scrub some of the experience off, and Dean took the opportunity to check in with his brother. 

When Kimber emerged, feeling only slightly less violated but a little steadier on her feet, Dean ended his call with Sam with a stipulation that Sam let him know the second he found out anything at all helpful. Dean and Kimber had exchanged quick glances then before looking longingly at the bed.

“Nap?” Kimber asked hopefully. Dean didn’t bother answering verbally. He shucked his boots, flopped on the bed, and opened his arms in invitation. She joined him, and the two of them slept for nearly four hours until Sam knocked on the door with food and a disappointingly short report on his own morning’s work.

 Now Kimber is doing her best to bring him up to speed on their side, but for some reason, she keeps stopping short of telling him what her hallucination consisted of. She trusts Sam as she trusts his brother, but this is something she needs to talk to Dean about first. Preferably alone.

“I had very little control and was completely unaware of my actual surroundings. These are the most realistic hallucinations I’ve heard of from a hex bag. I’d say nearly on level with a djinn. This guy is good, Sam. And we’re not any closer.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sam counters, drumming his fingers on the table top. He leans forward, resting his forearm on the smooth surface. “We know Helen definitely didn’t fall. We know there weren’t any hex bags left at the scenes, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t any involved.”

He pauses to take a swig of water from his bottle, deliberating.

“We know he’s sneaky, know he can blend into a crowd without standing out. He may very well have been at some of your defense classes before but made an effort to not be noticed. We need to talk to your instructor, maybe some of the people in your class, see if anyone knows anything about him at all.”

“The class is in the campus rec center. I know the instructor’s name, but not her contact info. Class is tomorrow night, but we may be able to find her at the rec center before then.”

“Not ‘we.’ You’re staying here,” Dean says as he exits the bathroom. “After this morning, you’re staying right here until we end this son of a bitch.” 

Kimber’s temper flares at his commanding tone, and she bites back an acidic retort. She trusted Dean’s instincts all those years ago, and they most likely saved her life. Even in her hallucinogenic haze, she heard him and tried to listen. And she trusts him now, too.

But she’s tired and beyond stressed, and while she knows the day hasn’t treated Dean any better, he doesn’t have to be a dick.

“We’re not seventeen anymore, Dean. I’m not a naive little girl who needs to be bundled out of the way, and I sure as hell don’t take orders from you. Don’t think for one second that I’m staying out of this investigation. This is my life, and I’m in charge of it. Not you.”

Dean’s face darkens, the tendons in his neck flexing alarmingly as he opens his mouth to retort, but Sam cuts in before Dean gets a chance.

“Kimber,” Sam offers, ignoring when Dean’s glare shifts in his direction, “You know Dean is just worried about you. What if I go to the rec center, ask around. You could call ahead, explain why I’m coming, and then your instructor might be more willing to talk to me. Whoever the witch is, they’re probably expecting you to go to class at some point. It really would be safer if you stayed here.”

She grudgingly concedes that Sam’s plan is solid, a lot safer than her gallivanting around campus as if a psychopathic witch isn’t trying to kill her. She forces her brain to accept reason, expelling as much of her ire as she can with her next couple of breaths.

Sam stands, pushing back his chair and beginning to bag up the trash from their late lunch. Dean reaches for his jacket, but Sam puts out a hand, holding Dean’s eyes and shaking his head. Kimber doesn’t miss the muscle jumping just above Dean’s jaw or the way his expression softens fractionally when Sam’s eyes flick her way.

“Dean, maybe you should stay here, just in case. The witch probably doesn’t know where Kimber is, but we really can’t take that chance. She’ll be safer with you.”

Subtle, Sam, she thinks, sighing internally. Real subtle. 

To her surprise, however, Dean doesn’t argue. He grips the back of the cheap chair so hard that it squeaks in protest. His head dips down for a long pause, jaw and fingers flexing. When he resurfaces, his anger isn’t gone, but he is visibly more in control.

“You go, Sam. Kimber and I will regroup, see if she can remember anything else. I think we’re both pretty wiped from this morning, even after passing out. Is that okay?” 

Though the question is directed at Sam, his eyes move to Kimber, including her. She nods as Sam finishes gathering their take-out containers, offering Dean a conciliatory smile. The relief on Dean’s face dissolves what’s left of her irritation.

The sky outside is nearly dark when Sam leaves. Dean and Kimber sit on the two beds, facing each other in silence. They study each other for a long time, staring unashamedly as they search out reminders of the kids they once were, relics of the past that are now mixed with the scars their separate lives have carved with time and experience.

She can feel his gaze on her, heavy at first, and then as searching and tender as a lover’s caress. She wonders if he likes what he sees as much as he did twenty-four years ago. She hasn’t changed much, in her opinion, but, then, she’s not exactly an objective observer. Some lines, a little sag, some silver (which she actually likes). But all the main features are still there.

Kimber is the first to move. She slides to the side, tilting her head to indicate the empty spot next to her. Dean frowns, seemingly determined to keep his distance, and she shoots him a look of such utter exasperation that he actually cracks a smile for a second before he’s able to stop himself. 

“Fine,” he growls. He shoves up from his own bed, dropping down next to her with enough force to tip her off balance and send her tumbling into his side, where he is ready to catch her, as always.

A shudder runs through her at that realization.

“You...you got me,” she whispers. In her mind, she’s at the edge of the rooftop again, her heels on solid ground, nothing at all beneath her toes. “You…”

“Me,” he says, his tone heavy, weighed down with everything he isn’t saying aloud. “I got you.”

Flashes of terror, disorientation, fury boil through her so fast they steal her breath and her balance, and she grasps at the lifeline his shirt presents. Her fingers clench into the soft material. Her gut burns with bitter shame, and she’s blinded by a sudden onrush of hot, angry tears. 

Violated. That’s it. She feels violated, absolutely powerless against this unknown assailant. All these years of preparing herself, staying vigilant and alert, and yet it all came to absolutely nothing, in the end.

She shoves the heels of her hands against her eyes. How dare someone intrude upon her well-ordered life, bringing nothing but terror and violence? The tears flow faster, harder, the rage burning down to a fine point, honed and hard.

“I may be his target, for whatever messed up reason,” she hisses, “but I will not be his fucking victim.”

“Damn straight,” Dean agrees, his arm tightening around her back. He doesn’t offer any useless platitudes or promises he might not be able to keep. He simply agrees with every curse she spews out, holds her tighter when the scalding tears soak into his shirt, and unapologetically augments her wild declarations of revenge with his own suggestions of violence. 

Kimber knows they (probably) won’t act on any of it beyond what’s necessary, but it’s nice to share in a violent verbal tirade with someone who gets what she’s going through. 

“Thanks,” she finally says as she straightens up, having finally blown through her considerable cache of vitriol. He chuckles, looking down at his hands and rubbing them slowly together.

“I’ll plot revenge with you anytime, sweetheart. Gotta keep on your good side; I’d be an idiot to piss you off after finding out you’re capable of all that. That was, uh...creative.”

She bumps her shoulder against his, still feeling very raw and open but a lot more settled.

“Kimber,” he starts, deliberately avoiding her gaze. “What...what did you see? I get it if you can’t talk about it, but you were so zoned out when I chased you down. You were saying my name, but I got the feeling it wasn’t me me you were talkin’ to.”

When she falters, Dean puts his hand on his knee, palm up in a silent offer of support. When she takes his hand, the strength and warmth of his grip soaks into her, and she bolsters herself. 

Her brain shivers with revulsion, balking at the prospect of digging back through the earlier episode. She’s scared, so scared to go back to that place, even verbally, but she perseveres, pushing herself to get the words out. 

Because even if she can’t pull herself out this time, she’s going in knowing Dean is there, anchoring her to reality. 

“I got you.”

I know, she thinks. Instead of affirming aloud, she simply starts talking. 

“It started off like that one walk we went on, the trail with all the falling leaves.”

“I remember that day,” Dean says, studying their entwined fingers. “Your mom made that pumpkin pie for dessert. That was a good...that was one of the best days.”

“I think that’s why my mind went there. There’s no way to know for sure what spell he used on the hex bag, but it took me to that afternoon, sort of. You were ahead of me, and I kept trying to catch up, but I couldn’t. And the leaves kept falling in my face; there were so many more than the actual day, and I kept having to knock them away just to be able to see. It was hard to walk, to think.”

Dean squeezes gently, waiting for her to continue. She licks her dry lips, her face pinching in, but she pushes on, knowing she has to draw out the poison.

“I could hear you calling from behind us. I know that now, but I didn’t then. You, the real you, would break through every now and then. But I couldn’t stop following him. He led me to a house, a just-married couple. It was you and me, not us from then or from now, even. We were maybe in our early twenties? The house was a lot like my parents’. The pair of them, us, were so happy, so...together. And he said...the teenage you said…”

“What did I say?” Dean prompts, his voice soft and measured. 

“You told me it was your dream, that we could still have it, if I wanted. And I knew it wasn’t real, there were too many little parts that were wrong, that reminded me it wasn’t true. I knew we’d lost our chance all those years ago, but Dean...I wanted it. I wanted you, I wanted that life, and it seemed so easy to just give in. Take his hand, take that step, get our happily ever after. I wanted-”

She breaks off, the thought too big and too deep for her to vocalize. The past twenty-four hours catches up with her all at once: the anxiety and stress of her supernatural stalker, Dean’s unexpected arrival and the return of all her residual feelings for him, the shock of realizing she’d been wrong all this time about him forgetting her, the terror of finding herself literally on the edge…

She still cares for Dean, the feelings deep and aching, no matter how hard she shoved them into a metaphorical box and locked them away. She still has no idea why he never got in contact again, but at this particular moment in time, she no longer cares. 

I wanted to give you your dream after all, she thinks, and in the end I couldn’t even do that.

“Kimber, look at me.” His words grind out, ragged and thick. He turns towards her, his free hand moving to hold her face so she has no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry. You saved your life. Yeah, I caught you,” he says, his eyebrows lowering warningly as she starts to interrupt. “Yeah, I got the hex bag out of your hand, but you knew what you were seeing was wrong. You felt it, you knew that wasn’t me, and you pulled yourself out. You fell away from the edge of the roof, not towards it. You did that. I just caught you, that’s all.”

He holds her gaze, and they sit frozen, mere inches between them. His eyes are ablaze, relentless in their determination to burn Kimber down to her base elements. She is speechless, without air or thought to offer another single word. 

But he waits, adamant, letting her make whatever final decision she feels is right, or at the very least, right for now. It seems he’s always waited for her to decide, and she owes it to both of them to end their shared misery.

She drops her gaze, loosening her hand from his. Her eyes rise with her fingers, and she places the barest tips against his jaw, wordlessly asking permission. In response, Dean lowers his arms, his hands moving to brush her hips as he presses into her touch. His eyes close, his face awash with elation almost to the point of pain.

She traces the fine lines surrounding the corners of his eyes, just as she wanted to do this morning. Her fingertips smooth the creases between his eyes, gliding over his furrowed eyebrows until he finally relents and lifts them. She presses the heel of one hand over the worry lines ingrained in his forehead before running her thumbs under the silky, delicate skin beneath his eyes, stained dark and bruised from years of sleepless nights. 

She finally allows herself the indulgence of mapping first his lower lip, then the upper, the pads of her fingers tingling. But the feel of him, the soft warmth, the scratchy stubble, the silk plush of his mouth, is too much and not enough for her overwhelmed senses. She needs more, needs him closer. 

His breath catches, fingers contracting, when she pulls his head down to place a kiss on first one temple, then the other. Another press of her lips just above the bridge of his nose, then one for each of his eyelids. A kiss for the tip of his nose, for each cheekbone, then each corner of his mouth. 

“Please.” She feels the movement of his lips, his plea so soft as to be inaudible. His hands are tense on her waist, just shy of painful. 

The knowledge that he wants her as much now as he did so long ago, even just the knowledge that he wants her, is heady and powerful. Lightheaded, giddy, she brushes feathering, teasing kisses across his lower lip, his upper lip, before claiming his entire mouth.

His reaction is so quick she doesn’t even realize she’s in his lap until he’s shoving back to get more purchase on the bed. His hands slide down from her waist, pulling her back with him. She shifts until her legs are on either side of his hips, settling more firmly as she deepens the kiss.  

Dean tugs, pulling her shirt loose from her waistband, and skates calloused palms over her flushed skin. She arches reflexively, and his lips trail down her chin, ghosting over her throat. She returns to him as fast as her position allows, desperate to touch, to taste, to drink him in. Four seconds away from Dean’s mouth is too long, nevermind twenty-four years. 

She is raw and aching from the weeks of worry and frustration, off-balance from her close brush with the void, and every movement sends her senses reeling. His strong, denim-clad thighs scrubbing through the thin fabric of her slacks. His day-old stubble abrading the taut column of her throat. The silk of his lips caressing her own, the sinful slide of his tongue.

She loses track of who removes whose clothing, but they are bare and joined in what feels like a heartbeat. Dean pulls her back into his lap, her hips firmly in his grip, and she stills against the intensity of his gaze. He throbs, hard and hot against her belly, and a tremor of need shivers down her spine.

He holds her eyes, one hand dragging down from her waist with torturous languor. Her flesh burns in the wake of his touch, muscles trembling in reaction. A breath jerks simultaneously from both of them when his fingers find their goal, and she nearly comes apart on him right there.

“Does this work for you?” he asks. His breathing is shallow, almost panting with the effort of restraint, and his eyes have taken on a glassy quality, but still he asks. And waits.

“Always.” 

His eyes close at the first touch of her tight, wet heat, his lips parted as his eyebrows draw down, and she can’t decide if she prefers the feel of his fingers on her or the sight of him more. Then he moves his hand, curling his fingers inward, and she makes up her mind real damn quick.

“Please.” The whisper comes from one of them, but neither knows nor cares who. Dean’s fingers plunge, retreat, repeat until she’s riding his hand, oblivious to the obscene sounds coming from her mouth as well as where they’re joined.

Her hands drag up from where she’s been digging into his shoulders, anchoring firmly into his hair. She pulls his face back to hers, seeking his kiss even as his fingers press again and again. His tongue sweeps into her mouth, matching the curling rhythm of his fingers, and she’s so close she can almost taste her completion.

She’s so close, she just needs…

“Dean, please, I need-”

His free hand slides up her back to grip her shoulder from behind, and his cheek brushes against hers. His lips ghost over her earlobe, his breath hot against her neck.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growls, and that’s all she needs to hear. She buries her face in his neck, her breath coming in fits and stops as he murmurs broken bits of praise. Her hands slip from his face, arms draping around his neck as her limbs go loose and weak. She loses track of time, riding the last diminishing shocks his fingers stroke from her.

“Kimber, I...god, that was...I need you, are you ready?”

“I’ve never been ready for you,” she breathes as she rises up on trembling knees, “but I am so damned tired of waiting.” 

Dean’s eyes seem to cross for a moment, and he grips her like he’s afraid she’ll float away. A low, guttural sound works its way from his chest, the tendons in his neck stranding out tight and thick against his flushed skin. 

“Waited...so long…”

She leans in, her forehead sliding against his, and they move blindly, bound together and barreling towards completion with reckless abandon. His nails scrape against her shoulder blades, his teeth rasping down the crook of her neck. The sound he makes when she tangles her fingers into his hair, grips and pulls, makes something vital clench deep inside of her, and she moans his name shamelessly with every erratic roll of her hips.

Dean stiffens in her arms suddenly, cursing, his teeth bared. She rides him still, and he guides her hips with rough encouragement, their staccato breaths echoing through the still room. He claims her mouth just as she comes, and her cry is muffled against his desperate kiss.

She knows effort is involved in getting them into an actual horizontal position and under the blanket, but to Kimber it feels like she simply melts into bed with Dean. Just as the night before, she molds perfectly against his side, her head rising and falling with each of Dean’s breaths. He strokes her cheek with one hand, his other arm solid and strong around her back.

They drowse, fingers wandering aimlessly under the covers, occasionally stretching up or leaning down to meet for a kiss. Kimber drifts with Dean, sated and content to her soul. 

Just before she slips under completely, she hears him mutter, “Can’t believe we waited a quarter of a damned century to do that. Fuck was I thinkin’.”

Sleep claims Kimber with a smile on her lips.

…

Chapter 8

[whenimaunicorn]

The Heart of Admiration - Part 2

Charles Vane x Reader, slow burn adventure/romance, written in a series of short scenes.

Part One Here

This episode’s prompt: “ “I thought they’d killed you. I lost my temper.”

The sea spray leaves the taste of salt on your lips as the ship crashes through another unexpected wave. It feels good to be sailing again, even with a crew you were all but press-ganged to join, and even with the weather now threatening to turn dangerous.

You had pled for mercy for Captain Fisher’s life, and those of his men. They had been your crew for going on five years, and though the plan to steal the cargo from Vane’s ship had been a foolish one, you couldn’t just let them die for it. That moment in which you watched Captain Vane’s eyes smolder while he considered your plea had been the longest one of your life. “So long as they leave Nassau,” he had finally said. “They leave, and you stay.”

You watch your new captain now, down on the deck below, alternately barking orders at the men and peering up at the darkening clouds moving in from the southeast. His heavy brow and bold cheekbones give his face a rugged sort of handsomeness, like he was carved by gods more primal than the Christian one, out of tougher stuff than other men. No one in Nassau knew where Vane had come from, only that he rose through the ranks of Blackbeard’s crew and barreled through the island like a storm.

He catches you looking at him, and responds only by calmly staring back. He looks at you too much. He has not yet been crude, but you fear you know what it means regardless.

It’s hard for a woman to survive as a pirate without becoming somebody’s woman. It would be safer that way, too. Easier. Anne Bonny may be an absolute hellcat, but surely the place she’s carved out on this crew stays comfortable because everyone knows she’s the quartermaster’s woman. It would be easier to have that kind of protection yourself, too, but the idea rankles you. You joined the pirating life because you wanted independence. You made it on the last crew because of your quick wit, and because your skills with celestial navigation were unique and indispensable. Although it helped that the captain was married to your sister and treated you like kin.

You had assumed those skills were the reason Vane wanted you for his own crew, as well. Very few people in this life are educated enough to read the charts and almanacs, to decipher the celestial bodies and figure a precise location in the middle of the ocean. But he looks at you too much. This may be an uglier trap than you had thought.

A lock of hair that escaped your braid flies across your face. The prevailing winds are changing. Perhaps the only thing this particular long look signifies is Vane’s awareness that this storm means the course you’ve been marking out for him will have to be corrected. The course that, if the weather doesn’t blow you too far off from, will take you to meet the intended course of a merchant vessel, whose schedule just happened to fall into Vane’s hands, much farther out from land than most pirating crews would ever hope to be able to find.

You’re already up here to take the noon measurements, but the sun is not quite at its zenith. Once you have the number, a flurry of calculations will follow, and you’ll give Vane your course corrections based on precisely where on the open ocean this ship is located right now, and where the other ship is most likely to be. But you’re already feeling extra tension in your chest looking at those thick clouds; if they cover the sun before you’re certain it has reached its apex, your faulty measurements could throw your course off by miles. And if that storm catches the Ranger, all you can do is wait for the skies to clear to figure where the hell it has blown you. Your chest tightens further when you see the captain mounting the steps to come up to your deck.

Even though you had intended to wait a little longer to take the next measurement, you find yourself lifting the backstaff toward the horizon again while you listen to Vane’s boots approaching you from behind. It’s careful work, to line up the sun’s shadow as the deck rolls in the waves. And it’s only getting more difficult as the nearby storm makes the sea choppier.

“Nineteen point three, and…” You mutter the numbers under your breath as you get them, not wanting to forget the figures before you have a chance to write them down. “Eighty-two point four.”

“Is that what you were expecting?” Vane is standing so unexpectedly close behind you that you jump at the sound of his rumbling voice.

You step away from him, quite deliberately, as you answer his question. “I’m not certain that’s the precise number we’re looking for, but yes, I believe we are still on-course.”

Vane closes a little of the space you had drawn between your bodies. But not enough to be worthy of further correction. “You look worried.”

The last thing a woman trying to hold her own on a ship should do, is admit vulnerability. You roll your eyes at him. “Fuck off. This is not my first storm at sea.”

A smile cracks the captain’s stony face at your response. “Fair enough.” He looks to the south. “We should be able to skirt the edge of that one without much difficulty.” His heavy gaze falls back on you, a sudden gust of wind pulling at his long, twisted locks. “But it will take us off the course we’ve been plotting.”

Usually you have no trouble looking a man in the eye; it’s something particular to Vane that has you dropping your head. You draw your little notebook from its pocket to excuse the movement. “Now who’s the one that’s worried? It’s no problem. I can correct for that just as soon as we get another sighting after it’s passed.” You flip to an open page, and lift your pencil. 19.3, you write, and then… “Fuck me, what was that last number?” Normally you have a good memory. The captain is just being too damn distracting.

You hear Vane chuckle. You refuse to look up. “If I tell you, do I get to?”

It takes you a half a second to run back through the precise words you just said, and catch his meaning. Your voice turns acid. “If you are not going to be helpful, then get out of my way. I am attempting to do the very work you pressed me into service on this ship in order to perform.”

Vane rocks back on his heels. “Is that what I did.”

Your exhale is a sharp burst of irritation, on many, many levels. “You can’t say you gave me much of a choice, about joining this crew.”

You risk a glance directly at Vane’s face again. He looks pensive, behind the general air of aggressiveness that usually suffuses his features. “You’ll be happier here,” he growls out after completing his thought.

You arch an eyebrow at him, just about as high as it will go.

“You were wasted on the Starling.”

 ~*~

 Every pirating crew hopes to avoid violence. They ready themselves for it, bristling with threat and menace as they wait for the ships to close tight enough for boarding, but the most preferable option is negotiation, always, with a prompt surrender on the part of their quarry before any blood is spilt.

That ideal outcome is not playing out today. This merchant vessel’s crew must have been largely made up of former naval soldiers, given the competence with which they are resisting Vane’s vanguard, and the discipline you are observing in their ranks from atop the Ranger’s quarter deck.

“Get belowdecks,” Jack Rakham, standing by your side and watching the battle just as closely, suddenly urges you.

“What? Why?” you bristle on reflex.

Jack interrupts himself to bark orders across the locked sides of the ships: “Watch those riflemen! Aft!” Three men peel off the main fighting to interrupt the knot of sailors that Jack had spied franticly reloading near the back of the other vessel.

You raise your chin as one of Vane’s crewmen severs a man’s arm at the elbow with a deft strike of his axe. “I assure you, I am not squeamish.” You are accustomed to observing the fighting from one of the higher decks with your old crew. On just about every run, unless… Jack’s fingers close tightly around your elbow. With a little shove, he directs your gaze.

A knot of enraged seamen are pushing through the Ranger’s men, dangerously close to one of the gangplanks connecting the ships. “If they get across, you’re a target,” Jack says sternly. “Seeing as you are not disguising your sex. Hide yourself. Now.”

You’d been held hostage once before. It was not a pleasant experience, for you or for your crew. You forgive Jack for shoving you as you start to make your way down.

The fear starts to set in as you scramble toward the ladder that leads to the lower deck; enemy boots stomp onto the Ranger just before your head disappears down the hatch. You hope that Jack, or some of the other men still aboard, notice in time to resist them, but that officer’s eyes landed on you with heavy interest as you scurried away. It seems likely they are indeed intent on a hostage.

The long knife you keep belted to your waist is in your hand as you scurry through the belly of the Ranger. You whip your head and turn back and forth in the muted light belowdecks, changing your course more than once in a way that you are dimly aware signifies panic. This is not your ship. This is not your home. You don’t know where to hide in this unfamiliar place.

Booted feet are pounding somewhere behind you. No way to know if they are friend or foe. And would your new crewmen even care enough to defend you? You duck into the doorway ahead of you and then put your back to the wall beside it, clutching your knife to your chest and readying to ambush anyone that comes through after you.

Your eyes land on a bed, bolted into the bulkhead. You’ve somehow chosen the captain’s cabin in which to hide. Not that it means much more than that you ran straight to the back of the ship. You’re much more concerned with getting your breathing under control, until your great gasps are not making quite so much noise, so you can listen to the sounds of approaching feet.

A figure steps through the door, and your knife flashes out with barely any choice on your part. You bury it almost to the hilt in his chest. You may not be one to ever storm another ship in the vanguard, but you’ve been training to defend yourself for years. You wrench it out of him and blood flies as the startled man stares down at you, not even realizing he’s already dead.

His last earthly act is to attempt to grab you about the arms, which unfortunately means that when his body sags into dead weight, he’s falling directly into you. You had got the knife free to stab again, but that’s not going to help you against his two hundred pounds of inertia. You have to twist with him in a macabre dance, his life’s blood still spurting, in order to not be knocked directly to the floor.

Which, unfortunately, puts your back to his fellows, rushing into the room after him. You hear a couple of enraged voices screaming at you and then a sharp crack, which instantly creates a thundershock of pain reverberating up from the back of your skull before everything goes dark.

 You wake to shouting, then screams. Ugly, ragged, tortured ones, of men too far gone in pain to retain either sense or hope. You feel your body, laying flat on the deck, and a splitting headache that rouses you quickly to consciousness. The sun is harsh against your eyes. Somehow you’ve gotten abovedeck again.

You lift your head; you don’t quite feel ready to move anything else. Your eyes focus dully on a dead man’s face in front of you, his cheek wet in a pool of blood that’s slowly expanding. You don’t know him.

Somewhere past your feet, you hear a voice call “Mercy.” The only response is a bestial snarl and then the wet sound of something slamming over and over again into meat.

You know that snarl. There’s only one voice in the West Indies pitched like that, rasping over blown-out vocal chords. You push up on your hands and look over at the men fighting less than two paces away from you.

The fight is over. Vane hacks once more with his cutlass and the head of the man who was just begging for his life drops to the deck and rolls.

It looks like most of the crew is back on the Ranger. How long had you been knocked out? “Captain…” comes the voice of Jack Rakham, and he’s pointing at you.

Vane’s face is feral as he turns, his long hair matted up with other men’s blood, sweat glistening on his exposed chest. His eyes widen, and your name falls from his lips. He takes a long step toward you, and drops to his knees at your side.

“Are you wounded?” His voice is low, and you’re surprised at the concern you see in his steady gaze.

You push with your hands so you can sit up on one hip, then reach up to the back of your head. “Quite a lump here,” you report, wincing.

Vane reaches to your chest, pinching up a bit of the fabric of your shirt. The whole front of it is soaked red with blood.

“That’s not mine.”

Vane lifts one scarred brow.

“You’ll find the first of the men that came after me belowdecks, with a hole in his chest.”

Your captain nods, looking pleased.

You notice that several sprawling corpses surround you on the deck, each one a red ruin, hacked more brutally than would have been needed to kill them. The would-be hostage takers? You look back at Vane for answers.

“When I saw them dragging you up here, covered in blood, I thought they’d killed you.” Now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “I lost my temper.”

Your chest fills with some unexpected emotion that feels rather too complex for you to even attempt to sort out. “You can’t be losing the asset you just went to such lengths to attain for your crew,” you say wryly.

Captain Vane fixes you with eyes as blue and deep as the sea. “No one else could have guided us this far out to meet the prize,” he acknowledges. “But I have a feeling I’ve only barely begun to discover your worth.”

Part 3 Here

Notes: if you liked this, thank @acebreathesfire too, she’s my source on navigation facts and basically has been co-creating this OC with me. If not for her encouragement none of this fic would have happened!!!

Taglist is open: @acebreathesfire @kind-wolf @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen you are all pressganged into this ship but anyone else is free to request to be put on the list!! Also I am creating this series entirely out of prompt fill drabbles, so if you come across any dialogue prompts you think would inspire good chapters, please pass them my way!!

Link to More Vane Action

[powerwordsleep]

Sasuke Retsuden (Unofficial English Translation)

Here’s the next installment! Enjoy~

DISCLAIMER: This is not an official translation and was not made for profit or distribution. This translation was fan-made and done for purely enjoyment and translation practice purposes. I do not own the rights to NARUTO or any of the related materials.

Translation note: There was a section in here (Shikamaru’s letter) that was very difficult for me to translate. It’s supposed to be an excerpt from ancient texts, so the Japanese was written in a older style. I tried my best to get the meaning, but it was confusing for me as well. I believe that is intentional and that it’s supposed to be cryptic. Thanks for your understanding! 

Prologue | Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

The next day, Sasuke was punished for the first time.

The reason was that he hadn’t bothered to “make proper eye contact” during roll call. The guards took much joy in smashing their batons on his hips, his chest, and his back in turn. Of course, the strength of their punches were that of civilians, so to Sasuke it was nothing. Still, it hurt, and that made Sasuke angry. Unconsciously he let a “tch,” slip out, and the guards took that as him being disrespectful. The situation quickly devolved into a mess, and they slapped him across the face in their excess. 

“What’s with those guys? Just yesterday they were scared shitless of you, and now all of sudden they act like they’re tough guys?” Jiji complained loudly during their work shift, not noticing the guards present behind him. He was hit in the stomach with their batons as a result. 

Immediately after, Sasuke was beaten three times the amount of Jiji, for “not censoring Jiji’s words,” which made no sense. 

Clearly, they were operating under the Director’s orders: go for Sasuke. 

He hadn’t been chained up or thrown into solitary confinement, so he doesn’t think his being a shinobi from Konoha had been revealed. He shouldn’t be mixing so leisurely with the other prisoners, lest they interfere with this plan. 

There were rarely shinobis within the prisoner population here, therefore he had tried to interfere with the all-important Menō. He was in good condition and felt that he should give Menō a taste of his Sharingan—that was probably the Director’s perception of Sasuke.

By the end of the day, Sasuke had been beaten by all eight of the patrols a number of times. He was late to his work shift, no matter how many times they called on him he didn’t reply, he was giving them dirty looks—any number of excuses. No matter how much he was hit, it didn’t do much damage to Sasuke, but it added up over time and pissed him off. When the day ended and the guards came around for their pre-bedtime patrol, they used the excuse of “your hair is too long,” like he was a student breaking school rules to beat him, and Sasuke thought it was about time to pay them back tenfold. If this infiltration wasn’t for Naruto, he would’ve broken one or two ribs already. 

“Man, Sasuke, today was a disaster.” 

“I wonder why the guards started targeting Sasuke suddenly.” 

Both Penzira and Ganno felt bad for Sasuke. In the past it’s been common for the guards to pick on prisoners, though usually their targets were the timid and weak ones, the type who wouldn’t retaliate even when struck. Sasuke was the exact opposite of that. 

"I don't care about this much," he said. Though he looked indifferent, his tone was overtly frustrated. "I'm just being stupid." His words came out in a rush. 

“Did you do something to make the Director hold a grudge against you?”

“He just hates your existence, huh? Doesn’t like people who are smarter than him.” 

“Ah, yeah, he’s the type to think too much of himself.” 

It was time for lights out. No one ever knew when exactly the lights would go out, and they would not be turned back on for anything until the morning. Even when the man in the cell three doors over had a heart attack, they did not turn the lights on. Jiji and the others groped around blindly for their futons and slipped inside them. After a few minutes the sound of their breathing evened out as they fell into slumber. They were exhausted from the day’s work and had grown used to their daily schedule here in prison. Sasuke confirmed that they were all were asleep, then he pulled out one of the iron bars from the door and left the cell. 

*************

Sasuke wore a strip of red cloth around his wrist as he walked the cells. It served as proof that he had permission to be out at this time of night. The guards provide one when a prisoner has to work after hours or when they have to go to the nurse’s office during their free time. If Sasuke was wearing this, he wouldn’t be considered as violating the rules and wouldn’t be attacked by Menō. In the daytime, it was a boon from the guards who swung around their batons. 

As he disappeared down the freezing hallway, sobbing could be heard. It came from where a steel cleaning tool was placed against the wall. Sasuke could guess what was going on inside there, and yet he couldn’t just pass by. When he opened the door there was a thin man with curly hair, his limbs tied up with hempen rope, crammed inside. 

The man stiffened and gasped when he saw Sasuke. The wrist tied up in front of his chest was dripping wet with saliva and had indents the shape of teeth on it. If he raised his voice, Menō would find him in the next instant, so he’d probably been biting his hand in an effort to stifle his cries. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“U-uh… on my way back from the bathroom I was caught by some of the old timers and... they locked me up in here…”

Bullying. 

Sasuke cut the rope tied around the man’s wrist. If you kept such bloodthirsty guys locked up for days in an environment like this, they'd eventually go looking for someone to take out their stress on. Their typical targets were the weak guys. The ones without any friends to come help them. Or the ones who looked weak and like they were about to bite the dust. 

“Do you have a red cloth?” 

“No… it was taken…” Sasuke clicked his tongue and took off his cloth, thrusting it at the man. If this guy were to go out into the halls without the cloth, he would eventually be caught by Menō and eaten alive. 

He felt true sympathy for the man as he watched his back disappear, running down the hallway. For Sasuke, this was merely a place he temporarily infiltrated. But for the man, this was his graveyard. At the rate construction was going, there was no telling when the telescope would be completed. He did not like seeing those who were weak and had a high probability of dying before construction finished. 

Pat.

Behind him came the sound of hard nails hitting the floor.

A rush of air touched the back of his neck as claws raked down Sasuke’s spine, cutting him in two—but the illusion faded. Menō snorted and noticed Sasuke perched on the ceiling, and his long tail flew up at him.

Crash!

The tip of his tail shattered the ceiling. Sasuke landed on the ground, pieces of wood falling around him, and from a close distance he inspected Menō’s stomach. As expected there was no wound. He was certain he had cut him clean in the middle of his belly the night before. 

“A miraculous recovery. Or were you replaced by another lizard?” 

Menō gave no response and his nails lashed out at Sasuke. They cut through mere air as Sasuke had already dove beneath his body, and the momentum caused the lizard to fall forward. Sasuke kicked at his hard, scale-covered jaw and delivered two more kicks to his stomach. 

As he wound up for a third strike, the tail came flying at him from the side. Sasuke stopped the attack with his right hand and pulled, causing Menō to lose balance and fall onto his back. Grasping his neck, Sasuke tried his Sharingan on Menō again. The result was the same—the genjutsu did not take. 

Menō’s eyes narrowed, probably feeling humiliated to be looked down on like this. He twisted his body and stretched his neck out, trying to bite Sasuke’s head off his body. Sasuke flinched and dodged to the side, and the claws on Menō’s right foot scratched his cheek. The skin was torn through, and the drops of blood that slipped out melted when they made contact with the air. 

Sasuke unsheathed his hidden sword, awaiting Menō’s next attack. Unexpectedly, however, Menō jumped away and fled. 

What’s he planning?

He was deliberating on what kind of attack he could do from this mid-range distance, when all at once he was overwhelmed. His body staggered, and for a brief moment, his attention left Menō. By the time he realized this and came to, Menō had already appeared in front of him, fangs bared. Four claws flew at him from the side, grabbing at his hair. Sasuke threw himself to the side, managing to dodge the attack, but he was dizzy as he landed. 

His body staggered a few steps, his vision shaking, and he desperately tried to focus. Menō jumped and attacked Sasuke, smashing his hand against the wall. 

Ba-dum.

His heart slammed against his chest and his legs gave out on him. His chest burned. 

The sharp claws of Menō shone bright through his white, cloudy haze of vision. Sasuke pulled out his sword with his other hand and sliced it in front of him. The floorboards collapsed and wooden debris fell down below. Menō immediately jumped down into the hole to follow after Sasuke. He landed one floor below and looked around, searching for him. 

However, there were no traces of Sasuke to be found. 

*************

Sasuke was breathing rapidly. He was practically leaning against the wall, slinking down the dark hallway. Although he had managed to lose Menō, the numbness in his body had spread. Menō’s claws scratching his cheek came to mind. That was probably when he had been poisoned, but he had never heard of any lizards being poisonous. Zansur had likely laced his claws with poison. 

His body began to convulse in small fits. A tremendous chill crawled up Sasuke’s back like a tsunami, his vision going white. His skin was burning hot. Yet his back was cold, so cold, and he couldn’t stop shaking. 

Sasuke gathered chakra into the palm of his hand and used a jutsu to create water, bringing it to his mouth to drink. However, before he could create an amount thicker than a sheet of paper, his fingers began to quiver, and soon he couldn’t summon his chakra at all. The water spilled out of his hands and down his chest. 

His vision wavered. His ears rang painfully as if fireworks were going off inside his head. He was in a terrible state. He had enough tolerance built up to common poisons that even lethal amounts did not work on him. Was this a powerful enough substance that it could affect Sasuke, or some kind of rare poison exclusive to this region? 

His breathing grew shallow and it felt as if his throat was closing up. Sasuke breathed out harshly, dragging his body along the wall, ignoring its condition. His chest was now making a terrible noise and his breath was obstructed. It seemed that he was hyperventilating and having a heart attack at the same time. He sipped at the remaining drops of water in his palm but it brought him no reprieve. 

In the same moment he leaned against the wall and thought he would just wait for the symptoms to subside, he heard something. Sasuke froze as the sound of footsteps could be made out between the incessant ringing in his ears. 

This is bad… someone’s coming.

If a hostile enemy crossed his path while he was in this condition, he would be done for. The footsteps were growing closer. Sasuke’s vision flickered and wavered, and he desperately tried to focus. His body was no longer cooperating. He had no choice but to use genjutsu on whoever came. He held his breath and waited for the approaching footsteps. 

The footsteps hitting against the cobblestone hallway suddenly disappeared, and in the next moment, Sasuke felt someone appear behind him. His mind reacted, but his body did not. A hand reached out from behind and covered his eyes, hiding his Sharingan. 

Softly. 

Sasuke sucked in a breath. He recognized the feel of this hand. 

No, you idiot, there’s no way she’s here. 

Sasuke tried to turn around and look, but his body was weak. He fell back and was accepted into the warm embrace behind him. 

“Relax, Sasuke.”

It was Sakura’s voice. 

*************

Sasuke breathed lightly, lying on a bed in the nurse’s office. The ringing and terrible pounding in his ears seemed to have calmed down. He timidly tested out his body’s strength and was able to move his arms and legs normally. 

“How are you feeling?” The curtain surrounding the bed on all four sides opened, and the face of his wife popped in. 

“Hm.. relatively okay.” Moving slowly, Sasuke rose off the bed. It felt like he still needed to not move around too much and to do so slowly, but he would recover before long. 

The more pressing issue at hand is how this happened to Sasuke in the first place. 

“Based on your symptoms, this was probably a type of poison that acts on action potential. It inhibits your chakra pathways and causes depolarization in your networks, leading to overexcitement of the nervous system. I wonder if this is a substance native to this land that your body isn’t resistant to.” 

Sakura rolled up the sleeve on his right arm. She wiped down the crook of his elbow with an alcoholic swap, said, “This will sting,” as if to a child and pierced his skin with a needle. 

“...Sakura,” watching his own blood fill up the syringe, Sasuke suddenly asked, “Why are you here? What of Sarada?” 

“Iruka-sensei is looking after her. I came to inform you of a change in your mission.” 

“A change in my mission?”

Currently, Naruto and the Nine Tails were suffering from an illness of unknown cause. According to the Nine Tails, the Rokudō Sennin once had the same illness. He apparently recovered from it while in Redaku. How he recovered and what methods were used was unclear. To that end, first Kakashi had infiltrated the capital of Redaku in order to find clues. 

However, it took several days to reach the outskirts of Redaku. Without contact from Kakashi, Naruto’s condition had worsened by the minute. Most of the relevant literature in Konoha was written in ancient languages, and even with a team of specialists assembled, deciphering the contents was slow going. Apparently the Rokudō Sennin had a long stay at the “Astronomy Research Institute” with someone called “Jean Tartar” but they had not yet been able to glean more information than that. 

If things continued at this rate, it would become too late to save Naruto. Without needing to hear anything else, Sasuke had dropped everything and headed to the Tartar Astronomy Research Institute alone. He wanted to find additional clues related to the Rokudō Sennin’s illness. And then soon after Sasuke departed, Sakura had followed him and also headed from the research institute. 

“On my way here I got a hawk from Shikamaru. In the literature that Kakashi-sensei found in the capital, there was a description of the Rokudō Sennin’s illness. Here’s a copy of the relevant passages.” On the folded paper were the familiar characters of Shikamaru’s handwriting. 

The Rokudō Sennin, after contracting a strange illness and traveling around the country of Redaku, met an astronomer named Tartar. Though he underwent heavy treatment with Tartar, he did not get sick. That night, Tartar found a meteorite fall to the ground in the heavens. The Rokudō Sennin caught the meteorite in his right hand and split it in two. The sparkle of the meteorite spilled onto the Rokudō Sennin. Suddenly, the Rokudō Sennin had a long-standing illness. 

The meteorite that fell from the heavens has the power to open chakra endlessly. Tartar named the substance “Polar Particles” and it is the source of his power. In addition, because there was conflict between people over his power, he hid half of the polar particles in “the sky descending to the ground” and the other half in “the start that travels without leaving”. In this world, the polar particles sleep lined and protected by the stars. 

If the Rokudō Sennin is sick, and there is someone who wants his power, it will come to his land. A person who doesn’t know the whereabouts can use an astronomical illustration of the land of Redaku. 

“If there’s someone with the same illness as the Rokudō Sennin, huh…” Sasuke whispered as he reread the last three lines. 

The key to curing the illness were these “polar particles”. According to this literature, the  Rokudō Sennin split the polar particles in two and hid half in “the sky descending to the ground” and the other half in “the star that travels without leaving”. 

“The consensus between me and Shikamaru is that Naruto’s illness is a kind of chakra dysfunction caused by having a Jūbi in his body. And if this substance from the meteorite, what Tartar calls “polar particles,” has the power to cure the illness…”

“We have to get it.” Sasuke said quietly and Sakura nodded in response.

“So, the new mission is to search for this astronomical illustration and obtain the polar particles. First, we need to figure out what it is we’re searching for. A book, a picture, or perhaps something else entirely.”

“I accept this change in mission. But that’s not the reason you’re here.”

Sakura’s eyebrows wrinkled in dissatisfaction. “...Because I’m a shinobi. When necessary I leave the village.” 

“It’s not worth the risk. Sending a message via hawk would’ve been fine.” 

“I did, but the message wasn’t delivered. The hawk came back with the letter.”

“What?” This time it was Sasuke’s turn to frown. Such a thing might occur if it was a species of wild bird from somewhere random, but it was rare for this to happen to a hawk trained in the village from the time it was a chick. 

“I’m not sure of the cause, but… I didn’t know how much time was left, so I decided to infiltrate this place as a doctor because I wanted to tell you this directly. And I can support you if I’m here.”

“That’s not necessary. Go back immediately. This place is dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Sakura’s face grew serious. “Are you doubting me?”

“I don’t doubt your abilities. But I’m telling you that just having me here is enough. And… there’s something going on at this research institute. Dōjutsu is ineffective on both the Director and Menō.”

“Even more reason for me to be here. If you can’t solve a mission with your power alone, then you need a partner, don’t you?”

She had a point. When it came to battle prowess, there was no one stronger than Sasuke, other than the 7th Hokage himself, but this infiltration mission was closer to intelligence gathering. When you wanted to get information from someone who was resistant to dōjutsu, or when you wanted to get things done without hurting anyone or drawing attention—having friends was a great advantage in situations where you can’t get anything done by yourself. 

“Also… the state of things here is terrible. People are collapsing from malnutrition and overexertion and no one thinks it’s a problem. I proposed an improvement plan to Direction Zansur, but no one listened to me. “No matter how many people die, you can quickly resuscitate them,” he said… the Director and the guards, they think of everyone like a workforce that can be replaced.” 

“I said not to do anything dangerous. What will you do if you draw unwanted attention from the Director?”

“I’m a doctor. I’m obliged to look after the health of everyone here.” When it came to work, Sakura was resolute. It was Sasuke who gave in, letting out a sigh of resignation. 

“...Okay. Do as you please. But don’t overdo it.” 

“Of course.” Sakura smiled then looked back at her desk. “Alright then, for now I will send your blood sample to Konoha. And then, just in case, I’ll send a status update to Kakashi-sensei.”

“Aren’t hawks unable to contact people?”

“Look.” Sakura whistled, and then a small hawk flew into the center of the room. A red cloth, much like the ones prisoners wore when out after curfew, was tied around its neck. “I think the reason the hawks were returning to Konoha was because Menō was driving them away. It’s a strict rule to keep outsiders away. But with this cloth, they might not be considered intruders.” 

Sasuke nodded in understanding. At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Consultation hours were already over. The two of them looked at each other, wondering what someone could want at this hour. 

“Doc, you still awake?” came Jiji’s voice. His tone was softer than usual. Sakura nudged Sasuke’s shoulder to direct him back to the bed. The curtain closed around him, and he heard the sound of Jiji approaching. 

“Hey, doc, are you here?” Realizing that his legs were visible from beneath the curtain, Sasuke raised them on top of the bed. At the same moment, Jiji’s silhouette appeared on the curtain. 

“...Ah, hey, you’re here.” 

“Jiji. What’s wrong? At this time of night.” Sakura pretended to be calm and listened. 

“Look at this. I hurt myself yesterday during work. It hurt so much that I couldn’t sleep, so I got permission from the guards to come here.” 

“Sit here. What is your prisoner number?”

“544.”

The sound of a pen scratching against paper, likely Sakura writing up a medical report for Jiji. A medical examination would probably take a while, so Sasuke made himself comfortable on the bed and prepared to wait until Jiji left. 

“Doc, do you smoke? That’s the number one painkiller, you know.”

“That is not true. What kind of doctor’s office do you think this is?”

“If you gave me a smoke, I’d be able to do anything. You really don’t have any? It’s totally okay if you do smoke.” 

“I’m going to disinfect you then prick you with a syringe.” Sakura grabbed Jiji’s arm and rolled up his sleeve past his elbow. Sasuke could not see them, but was able to make things out based on the shadows on the curtain. Listening to Jiji’s word and seeing the way he was acting, it was obvious that “he was hurting so much he couldn’t sleep” was just an excuse. In reality, Jiji came here with ulterior motives. 

From the other side of the curtain, Jiji continued on about wanting painkillers and feeling feverish, while Sakura danced around this in stride and continued on with the medical treatment. 

“Hey, you’re not like other people here.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Your name, and your hair color. This is the first time I’ve seen pink hair. It’s pretty.” Sasuke watched as Jiji’s hand reached out for Sakura’s hair, and unable to hold himself back, seized his wrist from behind and stopped him. Sakura made a face of resignation. 

“...Huh?” Seeing his roommate suddenly appear, Jiji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sasuke, you’re here? What’re you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same. Why did you come here?”

“I came to get treatment for my injury. When I got hit it hurt. The bleeding stopped, but it still tingles.” 

He’s lying. 

“If the wound festers it’ll be painful, so drink this.” Sakura handed a small cup filled with green liquid to Jiji. 

“What’s this?”

“A medicinal herb soup. It has good antibacterial properties.” 

“Ugh, it smells horrible. If you want me to drink something that kills bacteria, alcohol is fine…”

“This is in answer to your earlier question, Jiji, but this doctor here is my wife.” 

Jiji had just brought the cup up to his mouth to drink and started to cough it up. While wiping up the spilled soup, his eyes flicked back and forth between Sasuke and Sakura’s faces. “Really? You said wife, so that means you’re married to this doctor? Really? What? You—Sasuke, you’re married?”

“I never said I was single.”

“Yeah, but a guy like you? Probably single.”

What kind of prejudice is this…

“Eh, but why is your wife working as a doctor in this place?”

“I came to see Sasuke-kun.” Sakura lied. “Unlike a prison, there is no visitation system in place here. But I wanted to see Sasuke-kun no matter what, so I got hired as a doctor.”

“Huh, is that so.”

“Don’t be so surprised.” Sasuke turned his gaze to Jiji, who looked convinced. 

“Why would I be surprised?” Jiji looked at Sasuke mysteriously. “It’s normal behavior. Married couples are always together.”

*************

“Jiji. Keep the fact that Sakura is my wife secret from the other prisoners.” 

Departing from the doctor’s office, the two of them walked down a long corridor. Sasuke seized Jiji’s wrist in his. Wrapped around his wrist was a red cloth he had received from Sakura. 

“I know. If people find out that she’s your family, she won’t be able to stay here… still, I can’t believe you’re actually married. You should say that kind of thing sooner.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“The subject was brought up, surely.” He interacted with his cellmates on a daily basis, so the subject was brought up more than once. Of course lovers and marriage was the topic of conversation a few times, but since he was undercover on an infiltration mission, he had always excused himself from the conversation. 

“Jiji. You’re engaged to someone, aren’t you?”

At Sasuke’s words Jiji smirked in delight. “Yeah. Right now they’re working in Redaku’s capital. When that’s finished, we’re going to get married.” 

Sasuke’s gaze fell to his feet. The carpet was dyed white from the bright moonlight shining through from the windows. 

Married couples are always together.

Jiji’s words rang through his head. For Sasuke, someone who was often away from the village on long term missions, they were not words that came easily. 

“Jiji. Do you think that married couples should be together?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” An immediate answer. “The doc, she came all the way here, to such a godforsaken place, because she wanted to be with you, right?”

“No… I don’t know. It’s because I’m usually away from home.” 

“How long are you away from home for?” 

“For long periods. There are times when I don’t return home for many years.”

“Really?!” Jiji’s voice was raised in shock. “Many years, at that point you can’t complain if your partner up and leaves, huh?”

“...Why would that happen?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

Sasuke turned to level Jiji with a serious look, but his cellmate met his gaze with an equally serious one, not backing down. 

“It wasn’t a one-sided decision. Sakura is needed within our hometown, and I was requested to work outside the country, so there was nothing that could be done. That’s it. We exchange letters.” 

“Yeah, but, even with that… don’t you think that when you’re gone, there are bad guys like me who will do unsavory things? In your country, do you wear rings?” Jiji continued staring at Sasuke, a worried look on his face. “Married couples should always be together.”

Sasuke really didn’t understand what Jiji was saying. 

Sakura was family. No matter where they were, that wouldn’t change, he thought. He’d never heard anyone say that if you separated over a certain number of kilometers, you were no longer family. Even when he’d held a deep hatred for Itachi, he was still his older brother. To Sasuke, Sakura is family and his life partner. Even if they don’t share blood, even if they couldn’t see each other every day, that would never change. 

That’s how Sasuke felt, but it was troublesome to translate that into language and explain it to Jiji, and it wasn’t in his nature to do so anyway. Instead he said, “I see,” and changed the subject.

“Have you heard anything about an ‘astronomical illustration’?”

“Astronomical illustration?” Jiji repeated and leaned over. “I don’t know. Based on the name it sounds like an astronomy resource of some kind? You should try asking Penzira.” 

“Why should I ask him?” 

Jiji blinked in surprise. “Um, because it’s Penzira. He’s in charge of the archives.” 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 4: Ch 10 - 13)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 3 Summary: here

You receive a name list of people involved in the Evol assassinations, and realise that quite a number of them were participants in the Hunter Game. After considering the significance of this list, you decide to discuss the matter with Victor

With Victor’s prompting, you do a cost-benefit analysis and find that disclosing the document brings greater benefits than disadvantages. However, doing this will make LFG a target of the true mastermind behind the assassination incidents

“After all, he isn’t the only one with a trump card.”

As expected, disclosing the list results in heated debate from various segments of society

While leaving Souvenir one day, the brake of Victor’s car fails to work because someone tampered with it

The two of you have no choice but to speed around the city. Despite it being an incredibly dangerous situation, he remains composed, successfully resolving the issue before him. It’s the first time you realise how skilled Victor is in driving 

After the incident, you track down the person who tampered with Victor’s car, and find that he has been assassinated

Likely sensing your feelings, Victor invites you to the park after work. When you head to the park as arranged, you see his figure from afar as he waits for you

You deliberately send him a text, telling him that you’re still at work. He believes it at first, but reacts soon after. He scans his surroundings, then meets your eyes amongst the crowd

“Childish.”

While taking a stroll in the park, the both of you stop before a tree. A long time ago, Victor had coursed through time and entered the future in order to prove that the future could be changed. Back then, you had engraved your wish. This time, the same words are your source of determination. Next to you, Victor smiles and changes “May everyone be safe and healthy” to “Everyone will be safe and healthy”

When he takes you to the riverside, Victor finally tells you the true reason why he asked you to meet him. He’s currently acquiring businesses related to the “Small Syringes”. He needs this information to be publicly disclosed in order to lure the forces that are lying low to the surface voluntarily. Even though you’re worried, you choose to trust his decision. You volunteer to release this news as it can drum up a large volume of public opinion

Victor looks at you, his expression proud and gentle

"Here’s to a pleasant collaboration.”

After the news is made public, the reputation of LFG suffers a drastic decline as expected

On the surface, your interactions with LFG have lessened. At the entrance of LFG, Victor walks forward amid the remarks and hostility by passers-by. You want to defend him, but reason tells you to stay where you are, and not act impulsively

As your eyes gradually redden, you receive a message from him-

“The weather is pretty nice today.”

Victor’s plan progresses steadily. What you’ve done has also allowed the reputation of Black Swan to rise

Even though the two of you are walking in different directions, you are certain that you’re standing in the turbulent undercurrents together

The director of the hospital whom you once interviewed has discovered a reason for the pathological changes in Evolvers, and has invited you over to talk about it. Unfortunately, a group of Evolver gangsters has suddenly taken the hospital hostage

The STF rushes to the scene quickly. When you hear Gavin’s voice, your heart feels much more at ease

The main plotter, Yang Ping, has held normal civilians as hostages, and requests for a series of provisions to be made for Evolvers, so that Evolvers can have more “benefits”

Struck with an idea, you remain on the scene to assist Gavin at any moment. When he sees you, Gavin understands your intentions despite being worried

The STF receives an order from the higher ups to disregard the lives of the hostages, and go straight to quashing the situation. Gavin openly defies orders, choosing to safeguard the lives of everyone as a priority, and to negotiate with the gangsters

“I’ll take responsibility for all the consequences.”

During the confrontation with Yang Ping, Gavin uncovers Yang Ping’s true motive: to force the STF into harming someone in order to shatter the balance between civilians and Evolvers

Catching Gavin’s hint, you pretend that the negotiation went sour and that Yang Ping had injured you, turning the tides in your favour. After all, you’re simply an Evolver used as a chip in the negotiation. Yang Ping’s claim of “doing things with Evolvers in mind” no longer holds any weight

Because of this, the STF agents are given an opportunity to suppress the gangsters

Everything appears to be wrapped up smoothly, but the director is suddenly shot by a sniper. Yang Ping is also shot

Late at night, you spot Gavin standing below your house, braving the rain

Gavin seems to be experiencing complex emotions. To you, perhaps he was unable to fire every bullet for justice

Sensing that Gavin isn’t simply referring to the incident at the hospital, you tell him that you believe in his judgement

“I’ll find the truth behind this incident.”

Gavin also gives you an incredibly resolute response

A few days later, Gavin seems to have made up his mind. He tells you that he’s investigating an incident called “New Year’s Day Change”, and he needs your help

You agree immediately

Gavin has already contacted a key informant: an old ex-policeman. Because the forces behind the incident are incredibly complicated, he needs you to cooperate with him in putting on an act

“Miss Nox isn’t showing due respect by dampening one’s spirits the moment she enters.”

He needs those people who have been paying close attention to this incident to have a mistaken impression that he’s still searching for the old ex-policeman. In order to protect you, he needs you to leave his side

Gavin will be the target of scrutiny, while the eyes on you will slacken. You’ll use this opportunity to become the mode of communication between Gavin and his informants, safely assisting Gavin in advancing in his investigations

As the final step of this plan, Gavin pushes you off the top of a building

He appears determined in breaking off relations, while you're hesitant and powerless. But the both of you are clear that the plan is going as smoothly as imagined

“I’m the greatest danger.”

You know that Gavin is walking down his path resolutely. And you will naturally want to become the person standing beside him, walking down the same path

Through a report done by a member of Black Swan, you discover that the pathological changes in Evolvers are related to their Evol. You also realise that Helios seems to be investigating this matter

At the same time, Savin tells you that something has happened to Kiro, and he’s in the hospital. You immediately rush over, but you’re told that Kiro doesn’t want to see anybody

Across the door, you tell Kiro that you wish to see him. After a strange silence, he speaks slowly

“Thank you. You can go back.”

Behind the door, only Kiro knows the reason why he’s behaving strangely - due to a sonic bomb, he has lost his hearing

Kiro avoids you for many days, until he organises an exclusive “live concert” for you one evening. The next day, he’s finally willing to meet you. When you see that Kiro doesn't seem to have changed much, you relax a little, despite having many doubts

But in the evening, you receive a statement from him which says he’s “retiring from public life permanently”, and he vanishes

Knowing full well just how much he loves the stage, you decide to keep the matter hidden, attempting to look for him

Unexpectedly, you bump into Helios at the Black Swan building

“The person you’re looking for isn’t here.”

His cold attitude makes you understand that Kiro has turned himself into Helios. He’s hiding from you, and also himself

To have a better understanding of his actions, you look through the clues pertaining to him. When you investigate the Hunter Game again, a stone tablet with the symbol “8″ appears multiple times

In order to carry out a concrete investigation, you return to the forest where you had once participated in the Hunter Game, and search for that stone tablet

The moment you touch it, thorns and thistles grow on the stone tablet, cutting your hand and absorbing your blood. Before you can react, the ground underneath your feet opens. Just as you’re about to fall into the abyss, Helios saves you

Despite being faced with his icy attitude, you attempt to form a partnership with him to explore this place

In the dark, rays of light fluctuate into a message that neither of you can comprehend. 19, an artificial intelligence which remains here, enables you to understand that this place is a historical ruins left behind by the previous civilisation - “Lighthouse”

19 tells the both of you that their world was once as flourishing as it is right now, but it was destroyed. They left the “Lighthouse” behind in hopes of assisting the both of you in preventing the fated destruction

You and Helios also hear about the songs from that generation. Cultures and languages may not be the same, but music can cross barriers

When one song ends, Helios sings that melody in his own way, letting it echo in this time and space

"All of you still exist.”

After leaving the Lighthouse, you tell him that you’re going to continue with the investigations, and use your own method to tell Helios that you’re willing to face him, and would like to carrying out this operation with him. You hope that this time, he can walk towards you voluntarily

After returning, you receive a call from an unknown number

“It’s me.”

In order to investigate the Hunter Game further, you once again participate in the game as a punter

You do your best to search for the stone tablet in this game, but accidentally get targeted by two players. Just as you plan to fight with them, Shaw, whom you haven’t seen in several days, appears from behind you

The both of you cooperate, settling the score with the other two

“Tch. Not even one of you can fight.”

You tell him about the “Lighthouse”. Shaw, who has been researching on the historical ruins, guesses that the venue of the Hunter Game could be deliberately designed to be near the ruins. By using large amounts of Evol energy fluctuations, it could unseal the ruins

While the discussion has signs of a positive outcome, the two of you are still embroiled in the game

Shaw’s conspicuous ranking and high-key thunder and lightning have attracted numerous opponents to him. But with your cooperation, the enemies fail in succession

The metal chain around his neck notifies him that he has advanced into the next round, but he loses consciousness in your arms due to a fever

The youth who usually hangs around Joker appears before you. You use psychological tactics to goad him into sending Shaw to the hospital. On the other hand, you’re taken away by him for breaking the rules of the game repeatedly

When Shaw regains consciousness, he’s unable to contact you. He returns to the antique store, only to see that it has been swallowed up by an abnormal black flame

“Get lost!”

In spite of the firefighters’ obstructions, Shaw makes repeated trips into the shop, “rescuing” the calligraphy and paintings

By the time the fire is extinguished, the antique shop is already half scorched, as though it’s a warning

Based on the youth’s memories, you discover that Joker has once visited the former site of the BS research centre. In order to find out why, you hurry over

You inadvertently find that there’s someone in the archive room. Just as you're feeling tense, your phone suddenly rings - at 2.03pm, an unknown number calls you

The sound exposes you. Taking out a gun, you attempt to warn the person in the building

“I surrender.”

That person turns out to be Lucien, and he's holding a floppy disk in his hand

Lucien explains what he’s doing here, and even demonstrates how you can use the data in the floppy disk

A series of numbers flash on the screen before it turns dark

Having considered that this process of reading data is highly confidential, Lucien notes how they might have been watched earlier, and that it’s better to leave

However, you suddenly feel dizzy. In the next second, you find yourself in the corridor. The door to the archive room is shut tight, and you can’t see Lucien anyway

Even though you’ve clearly set your phone to silent mode, it rings again. The screen shows that it’s 2.03pm. It’s a missed call from an unknown number

Returning to the archive room, it’s as though Lucien didn’t meet you earlier

You surmise that you’re experiencing this for the second time, and Lucien believes you without hesitation, speculating that you might have been in a time loop

Just as he says, whenever a certain amount of time passes, everything returns to 2.03pm

Unexpectedly, but as a matter of course, Lucien believes you every single time. He analyses the situation with you, helping you escape from the time loop

After a few more time loops, Lucien figures out a way to escape

“This time, let me accompany you in jumping out of this looping time.”

Time requires an object of reference. You're at the centre of the time loop circle, and the compass drawing the circle is your phone

Because this phone is special, it doesn’t vanish when you leave it with Lucien. At the same time, in order to measure time, your phone reappears in your hand

Since one object cannot exist in two places at the same time, this results in a contradiction that causes time and space to collapse

The next day, you and Lucien meet along the corridor, and agree to go on a stroll outside

Even though many things are unclear, the radiance of spring before you makes everything seem as though they are going in a beautiful direction. You can’t help but mention the promise you once made with Lucien to fly kites

“Spring may not necessarily arrive at a fixed time.”

In a teasing manner, Lucien says that he isn’t late. You also think that perhaps many things can start afresh

All of a sudden, you feel a severe pain in your chest-

“Now, spring has just begun.”

The words Lucien just said have yet to disperse

At this moment, he’s holding your collapsed form. The only colour in his monochrome world is gradually fading

Volume 5 (Ch 14 - 17): here

More S2 content: here

A detailed translation of Gavin’s part is available here!

[messiisgodibeliveinhim]

Just Another Rant

Okay, so why do NCTzens have a hate boner for Taeyong??? It's so f*cking weird, it doesn't make sense.

Taeyong has been under NCTzens' microscope since his debut. Everything he does is dissected and twisted into something its not. No other member of NCT or any group (except maybe Jennie from Blackpink) is treated this way by the group's fans. NCTzens want Taeyong to be the villain so bad, that they're willing to stoop as low as dehumanizing, body shaming and wishing d3ath on him. NCTzens dislike him, some even hate him and they're not very subtle about it.

Now, I'm not saying all NCTzens are TY antis. I have moots on Twitter who dont stan him, but are incredibly respectful towards him and acknowledge his talents and hardwork. If you're one of them, then this rant is not about you. But i will say this, if it isnt all NCTzens who anti Taeyong, it's most of them.

It started with Lines and Screentime distribution for NCT songs and mvs. Now, i agree that Taeyong used to get a little more lines and screentime than the others at first. But instead of calling out SM, most of you targeted Taeyong saying he deliberately stole the said lines and screentime from his members so that he'd get to shine more..... Really???

Next, when he was announced as a member of SuperM, NCTzens were clearly upset it wasn't Johhny or Jaehyun. Do you wanna know why??? No, they didnt talk about talent. Instead, they wanted Jaehyun/Johhny instead of Taeyong because SuperM is a group targeted at the western audience and Jn & Jh knew to speak English better than TY..... Okay.

And it keeps getting worse.

-NCTzens saying that TY goes into the recording studio to record his solo songs, by LOCKING OUT the rest of NCT, so that they wont get to record their solo stuff.

-That TY is SM's Golden Boy cuz he 'gETs a LoT of SoLO pRoMos anD cENter TiMe', completely refusing to understand what 'SOLO PROMO' means or see how overworked and mistreated he is by his own company.

-When TyongFs praise TY about anything, NCTzens always, ALWAYS insert their faves in the post. Like, go make your own post maybe???

/Trigger Content

-NCTzens saying that TY dances like he has a sq*irrel in his pants, raps like d*g, looks like a skeleton etc etc. And these are just mild stuff i mentioned here. NCTzens are so much worse when it comes to body shaming and dehumanizing him. And when we call them out for it, thay have the audacity to say that its a JOKE and we're STUPID for not having 'A Sense of Humor'....

/End of Trigger Content

-NCTzens saying that TY's main dancer/main rapper/main visual/leader/center positions should go to their faves cuz their fave 'iS So mUcH beTTeR aT TheSe pOsiTIOns'. Yeah.... sure..... NCTzens rarely talk about the positions other members have , but are really obsessed with Taeyong's.

-NCTzens still denying that Taeyong is NCT's leader and that he's really good at it. Just yesterday, a Wayzennie (also a TY anti) started spewing sh*t about Taeyong's leadership. And their arguement??? That they have 'lEAdeRsHiP eXpEriEncE iN UnI, WoRk aND ouTsIDe wOrK' and that makes them an expert about leading a 23 member global kpop group, who had a rough start what with their controversial 'unlimited' concept and experimental songs. Sure, Jan.

(Also, the thing where some Wayzennies are still not accepting that TY is the leader of whole of NCT, cuz Kun is WayV's leader..... Seriously, though its not that hard to understand. Kun IS and WILL remain the leader of WayV, a 7 member group. That's a fact. But when the subunits (127, Dream and WayV) come together for projects (ex: NCT 2018 and NCT 2020), Taeyong becomes the overall leader. But since these Wayzennies are still on their WayV not being part of NCT agenda, they're simply ignore this. Go figure.)

- Oh, but when some other member in NCT messes up, it suddenly becomes Taeyong's responsibility cuz 'HE'S THE LEADER'. Funny, how NCTzens change narratives quickly. Also, weird how, according to NCTzens, NCT members suddenly can't think for themselves even though they're grown adults and need Taeyong to take the blame for them. Haha.....

-Also, NCTzens guilt tripping TyongFs from canceling NCT Beyond Live tickets when they got to know that he was injured and wont be participating in the concert a little too late, cuz "Taeyong, as a leader, would be sooo upseeet that his group wont be getting TyongFs' money and he'd feel sooo guiltyyy that y'all are getting refunds of your OWN money that YOU CHOSE to spent and its not my business at all. But damn, y'all are sooo selfish!!!!"

-NCTzens posting about how overjoyed they are that TY is injured cuz that means their faves get to shine..... "Look how MY FAVE killed TY's part" "MY FAVE ate Taeyong up" "Should've put MY FAVE in the OG line up instead of Taeyong" "MY FAVE made TY's part as his own" "Thank god, MY FAVE got to show off his talents, now that Taeyong isnt here". God, if i were one of the Neos whose fans say sh*t like this, it would've felt like a slap to my face. Honestly, tell me, do y'all really think so low of your faves? Do you really think they cant shine even with TY being on stage? They absolutely can, but you're focus is not on them, is it? Way to embarrass yourself.

-NCTzens blaming Taeyong for NCT's slow rise to fame because of the false rumors/allegations pinned on him by nasty people. They say Taeyong was the sole reason for NCT not being liked by many, not because of their confusing/complicated concept or the music. Yeah, you heard me. NCTzens are not above victim blaming and pointing fingers, cuz they are not ready to accept the fact that Taeyong was the one who carried the group on his back all the way.

-And how they can't stand the fact that TY gets praised by proffesionals or non-fans or locals. A dance analyzer analyzed 127's Kick It and at the end stated that Taeyong was the best dancer in 127. And what did NCTzens do. They bullied the analyzer to the point that they deleted the video, just cuz their fave was not named the best. A reactor reacts to Taeyong's Long Flight and the comments on the videos are along the lines of 'Hey, MY FAVE'S also has a solo song too. You should definitely react to that' or when they're tryna be subtle (but not really), they go 'Taeyong is soo good but you should also check out MY FAVE'S blah blah blah'

Hell, even when TyongFs say 'Taeyong is very so creative, by coming up with BDLI Jungle Gym concept and the MAW chandelier thing. He's literally an Idea Bank', and NCTzens go 'All the Neos are idea banks' in the same post.

When TyongFs say 'Taeyong is the really so handsome. NCT's main visual', they go 'All the Neos are main visuals'

Lmao, just 3 days ago, someone commented 'Taeyong is cute' under a tiktok video and an NCTzen just couldn't help but fume about it and went 'All Neos are cute'🙄

Like seriously, this is sooo annoying. Make your own goddamn post about the rest of NCT, ffs! Why do you to insert anyone else in a Taeyong tweet? Literally, can't let Taeyong have a moment for himself.

-Recently, Taeyong released 2 solo demo tracks on SoundCloud- Dark Clouds and Dark Clouds Remix (check it out here: https://soundcloud.com/eh_ovo_taeyong). And NCTzens being NCTzens started those who never even promoted Kun's SoundCloud before started promoting it under every TY tweet on the same day. Now, i don't have a problem with them promoting Kun's SC. But they could've done it any other day or made their own tweet about it. But doing it under every TY promo tweet and on the very same day? Really??? And some of them had the audacity to say that TY was getting free clout from Kun cuz Kun followed him on SC.....😑😑😑

-NCTzens have this weird belief that TY is getting solo promos and is being pushed by SM. What on earth are they talking about? Taeyong being center, main rapper and main dancer of the group is not solo promo. Him being in SuperM is not solo promo. Him opening Instagram and SoundCloud is not solo promo, but self promo- which means HE'S promoting himself, not SM. Solo promo is usually provided to the artist by the company in the form of photoshoots, accepting brand deals, releasing the artist's solo music etc and SM isnt doing sh*t for Taeyong. All they're doing is overworking him and milking him for money. That's it. And i want NCTzens to understand that.

And the list goes on and on and on. This weird hate boner NCTzens have for Taeyong is so bizarre to me. All Taeyong does is sing, rap, dance, talk cutely, take care of his fishes and play games with Baekhyun. And this somehow gets NCTzens mad. They constantly discredit him, try to make him seem less than what he actually is, insert everyone else when someone is talking just about him, make him seem like a villain by twisting his words or actions and making it into a big deal.... *sigh* Its so unbelievable how low NCTzens can stoop. And it gets tiring real quick.

N E Ways, this is everything i wanted to rant about and damn, this turned out to be too lengthy. Now, if you havent followed Taeyong on his Instagram, please do @eh_evo_nct. Stream Long Flight, his one and only solo station. And please look forward to BaekhyunxTaeyong collab on Taeyong's SoundCloud.

Ciao!

[fromthewifecage]

Never Trust  A Cowboy With A Computer (AKA: Erron Black/Female reader smut)

I’ve had a lot of issues with this, I’ve had to edit the hell out of it, changing a bunch in the 1st chapter, so please reread Chapter 1 before jumping into the smut that is Chapter 2. It’s over 5k words, and it’ll be posted over on my AO3  https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeltAutomaton in a bit if you want to be extra kind and go give me kudos there :D Thank you again to @tomoka0013 @gojihime99 and @malicedragoness for your encouragement and all your help *blows kisses* Hope you like :D NSFW!

CHAPTER 1:

For once, the absolutely only time in recent history, your hair is behaving, thank the Gods! Actually, is there a God of Hair? Hmmm, maybe Kano would know? His stories of meeting Gods are always fascinating, even though he always exaggerates his role and prowess in encounters with said Gods. There is simply no way on Earthrealm that Kano could have stolen the Thunder God’s hat without being zapped into the Netherrealm. Plus, Kano has never produced this hat, so whenever he has one too many beers and starts on another night of tall tales, you nod along and feign complete belief in his words.

Maybe one day you’ll get to meet a God? Not likely whilst you’re stuck behind a computer for hours and hours every single day. Especially working alongside Erron-sodding-Black. He’s gone through at least 5 computers this year, 2 in the past three weeks! You swear he was doing it on purpose. In your steamiest daydreams he’s deliberately breaking his computers so you’ll have to travel to the ‘Black Dragon Boyz office’ (and yes, they spell it with a ‘z’) to spend precious time un-fucking his computer. Every time it happens, you swear you’re just going to tell him to go bother someone else, or get his arse down to PC World and find some spotty 17 year old work experience boy to bother rather than yourself. After all, you’re doing just as an important job for the Black Dragon as he is, well, almost. He might be a super amazing dead-shot sniper capable of assassinating even the most heavily guarded target, but you aren’t just IT support, you are a Black Dragon member too.

******** More after the cut! ***********

You spend much of your time hacking into Special Forces super secret files, reading General Sonya Blade’s horribly dry mission reports, or transferring money from one Swiss bank account to another before you could be traced. Well, that was why Kano had hired you. Yet these past few months you’ve been dragged to broken computer after broken computer by the obscenely handsome aforementioned Erron Black at least once a week. You hadn’t minded the first few times, after all, any time spent in Erron’s company makes you all giddy and wibbly-wobbly inside your knickers. His voice honestly does things to you, actually makes parts that shouldn't tingle at work, tingle. He has warm eyes that seem to sparkle whenever he speaks to you, or catch you staring at him, not that you stare at him. Much. OK, maybe a little. He has a smile that is likely illegal in half the known world. Long, strong fingers that you so often think about, especially when you watch him dance a coin across his knuckles when he’s thinking, his trick to keep his fingers supple. No, no no. No thinking about him. He obviously isn't interested in you. He’s a simple man when it comes to that. You’ve seen him make moves on people who catch his eye; he’ll watch them for a while, then walk up to them, give them a smile, tell them plainly what he wanted. Then you’ll watch them walk off together whilst your heart dissolves into self pity. A few months ago, you made a real effort to try to stop flirting with him. No more lingering looks while spending more time than needed helping him with his computer. The man was multi-talented with most things, just not computers. It probably didn't help that he didn’t grow up around modern technology. You gently tease him about being old and doddery around computers and he takes the jokes well, and really, you miss joking around with him, but it was for the best. Kabal jostles with you for mirror space, smoothing down his hair and giving the mirror a big grin. Why is it so easy for men like him? He probably rolls out of bed after 2 hours sleep with his face in a half-eaten curry and he’ll still wake up ridiculously handsome (the git). Whereas it takes a lot of fussing to even get your hair to behave, let alone look nice and shiny like Kabal’s does. Maybe you could make a small shrine in the corner of your bedroom to the Hair God? You nod to yourself, thinking Kabal must have done that. “Come on, you look beautiful. Now get your coat and scarf, and we’re outta here. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss it!” Kabal fusses with his coat buttons. Always unable to keep still, the man practically radiates excess energy. “I WILL BE SAD IF WE MISS THE FILM.” Tremor stands up from his own desk, the building shaking ever so slightly with the enormous man’s movements. “Not as sad as Kabal. He’ll start bawlin’ if he misses his boyfriend’s new film.” Erron spins round in his brand new swivel chair, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Johnny Cage is NOT my boyfriend and I don’t even care about missing the film.” Kabal bristles with indignation. He did care about missing it. He cares a lot. “I don’t even like his films, or him. I’m just watching it ironically.” Erron laughs. You feel that laughter, deep inside and it demands attention. Bastard. “Suuuure. Enjoy your boyfriend.” “He is NOT my boyfriend!” This was going to end up in another fight. Last week Kabal had called Erron ‘Old Man Withers’. Erron had retaliated by drawing on Kabal’s Johnny Cage calendar. (The moustache and glasses actually suited the ridiculously handsome movie star.) So Kabal put a mouse in Erron’s desk drawer and recorded Erron’s screams, playing them every so often whilst laughing. The feud had gone on until Kano forced them to apologise to one another, in front of everyone. This sort of idiocy happened probably twice a month. It had escalated to where people now made bets on how long each feud will last. The longest feud had lasted 23 long days before Kano had flipped. “I DO NOT WANT TO BE LATE.” Tremor tugs open the office door and the handle will need replacing. Again. You follow after the huge man, Kabal behind you is muttering about revenge. “Hey, Sweetheart, you goin’ too?” It takes a second before you realise that sultry Texan drawl is aimed at you. “Oh, yes. There was a spare ticket since Kira’s still stuck on a job.” Oh shit, you should have offered it to Erron instead. You’d been so excited to be included in the cinema plans that you’d been selfish and not asked if Erron had wanted to go. “But……” Erron’s face scrunches a little and he turns to his computer and hits a few keys in quick succession. “It ain’t workin’ again. Sorry, darlin’.” He gestures helplessly to his computer. “But… I only fixed it this morning! What have you done this time?!” You drop your bag to the floor, and peel off your coat with a frustrated groan. You are going to get fired, there was no way Kano would believe this. You are completely and utterly incompetent. No other reason. Your fault. “It’s those darn computer gremlins again.” He gives you an apologetic smile and shrugs with frustration at the computer gremlins. You sigh and wave goodbye to Kabal and Tremor, both eager to watch Ninja Mime’s latest adventure. This one was in SPACE and it was going to be amazing, and you were going to miss it. Nooooooo! You stomp over to Erron’s computer, your mouth twists into a grumpy pout. “That is it. No more computers for you! you want to do some work; then you can bloody well do it on a typewriter.” Erron replies with a “Heyyyyyyy” and a laugh. The throb between your legs from the laugh can just sod off. No more. Not when you were going to be unemployed and unemployable after this. Who was going to hire you? What could you put on your CV? ‘Failed IT support worker’? ‘Only capable of turning a computer on and even then it’ll probably turn itself off again when you’re not looking?’ ‘Can steal FBI or Special Forces secrets but can’t keep an old man’s computer running for more than 3 minutes before it’s broken again’? ‘Want to play Solitaire? Well don’t ask me, best try the sudoku in the newspaper instead’. You’re so engrossed in sulking you don’t notice Erron get up from his comfy chair to stand behind you as you perch on the crappy stool with no back (it had no back because Tremor had tried to sit on it). It was only when strong hands find your hunched shoulders and begin kneading at the tightly knotted and sore muscles, that you look away from the ‘blue screen of death’. “I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart.” By the Gods his fingers are truly magic. His thumbs are rubbing magic circles into your shoulders and it feels soooo good. “Mmmhhhhh?” Maybe he is a God, the God of massage.? You close your eyes, your head rolls back and you enjoy the moment. Heat radiates from where his fingers touch you, heat that only gets stronger when it reaches your face and between your legs. He finds one particularly knotted muscle and you can’t help but groan your pleasure as his thumb circles the spot. His chuckled reply tugs you back to your senses and you quickly shrug his hands off you. Thank the Gods you have your back to him so he can’t see your positively flushed face. You quickly get back to tapping away at the keyboard, but your hands are shaking so badly from the intimacy, you struggle to hit the correct keys. “You sure you got that, Sweetheart?” The computer indignantly beeps at your clumsy fingers. “Says the man who has trashed enough computers to practically bankrupt Kano.” Your hands continue to shake and your thwarted desire swerves into anger. “I’ve made you mad.” “I haven’t been out in FOREVER, and just as I’m about to go out, YOU go break your computer. AGAIN!” “Ain’t my fault your boyfriend doesn’t take you out.” Why did he sound almost happy about that? Hang on… You spin around to face him. “What boyfriend?” “You know, the dwarf.” “The.. what?” “Your boyfriend, the hairy dwarf.” He folds his arms, and shifts his weight to one hip. He doesn’t seem too happy talking about this mystery boyfriend, whoever they are. “Is this some sort of joke?” You honestly have no idea what he means. Maybe he’s drunk or Kabal has told him this for a laugh? “I don’t think so?” One of his eyebrows rises in puzzlement. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have a hairy dwarf boyf.. why do you think I have a hairy dwarf boyfriend?” Maybe you have a secret boyfriend so secret you don’t actually know you are in fact dating him? Piotr, who runs a very seedy strip club in the seedier part of the city, is a dwarf, (and you only know him because Kano is friendly with him, he’s a bit scary), but he’s balding. Who does Erron think you are dating? “You said you did. You know, you were talking about him being all small and his hair got everyw…. He’s a cat ain’t he.” Erron has the good grace to look embarrassed at his idiocy. “Obviously.” Is Kabal recording this? This is ridiculous. “Shit.” “Yup.” “Then.. uh.. you should go catch up with Kabal and Tremor.” “I still have your computer to fix.” This was going to be such an awkward few hours. Sitting in the office in silence because the pair of you are idiots. “I can do that.” He throws out a warm smile. “Really. The man who can’t even use a mouse without breaking it, can fix this mess?” You can’t help but roll your eyes. If he even so much as looks at the computer it will probably catch fire. “I maybe exaggerated my lack of skills.” His smile wavers, and slides from warm to worried. You are going to kill him if this was going where you suspect it is going. “I maybe might’ve deliberately caused the error.” He holds up his hands in surrender. Yup, you’re definitely going to have to kill him. “I maybe did some classes a few years back when I was at a loose end.” “…… I’m going to kill you!” “How ‘bout I make it up to you? I take you out for dinner, there’s this patisserie we can go afterwards for the best pastries in Moscow. Hell, you wanna watch that film, let’s go.” His eyes plead with you not to hate him, but right now, you really do. “I have a hairy dwarf who’ll be better company, thank you.” That he was possibly asking you out and that he wanted to actually go out on a date wasn’t registering. All you can think of is the waste of time and how humiliated you feel. Everyone probably knows and has laughed at how utterly clueless you are. Kano is going to fire you for being shit at your job - after he finishes laughing. “Heyyy, Sweetheart. I’m sorry. I just wanted to spend time with you.” He really does sound sorry. His eyes go all soft and warm and apologetic and Gods, he is beautiful and you really do want to believe him. “You really thought it was accidental?” He tries to hide a smile and can’t stop one eyebrow from raising quizzically at the thought that you’ve been so utterly clueless. “Well… you’re… there weren’t computers around when you were young…younger, I’m just an idiot aren’t I?” The-all-too brief warmth and fuzziness from thinking maybe there might actually be something there between you dissolves back into embarrassment from being tricked so easily. You grab your coat and bag and leave the office whilst Erron stares after you.

Chapter 2

The flat is dark and cold when you finally get home. The bus had been late, and Russia in autumn is hardly the most fun time of year to be kept waiting at a bus stop. Fur-lined boots and a thick fuzzy coat are nice enough, but do little to keep your body from freezing outside in the colder months. Still, the flat has semi-decent heating, and a thick blanket and a fuzzy cat happily purring on your knee whilst you drink coffee soon has you feeling a bit warmer.

Thinking back to earlier you have to admit you’d have liked a boyfriend, and no matter how humiliating what had happened earlier was, you still wish that this boyfriend was Erron. Your cat, Bob, was great company, and he would never play mean tricks on you, but great company as Bob was, he didn’t keep you quite as warm and quite as tingly as Erron possibly could. Sensing your traitorous thoughts, Bob nudges at your hand with his fluffy head to demand attention, purring happily when you indulge him and tickle under his chin. You give him a kiss on his fuzzy little head as way of an apology for being so utterly traitorous. Soon your thoughts switch to worries that you’ll be fired once Kano finds out about Erron’s trickery. Actually, Kano doesn’t fire people; he has them eaten by pigs or whatever it is that scary gangster criminal people do. Who will look after Bob? Your bottom lip quivers as you think about Bob, all alone in the dark, unable to open his tins of cat food without opposable thumbs, meowing sadly for someone to change his kitty litter. A moment later you force a smile. No more feeling sorry for yourself! You aren’t some pathetic pushover, this means war! You won’t just put a mouse in Erron’s drawer, you’ll put three rats in there and upload his screams to Youtube. He’ll find 30 chickens in his flat and you’ll steal his lunch every single day. You’ll swap all of his guns for water pistols and laugh when he cries about it. A loud buzzing from the doorbell pulls you from your thoughts of revenge. It’s probably Kano and some hungry pigs, so you take three deep breaths to prepare yourself. Scooping up Bob and tiptoeing to the door, you peep through the spyhole to instead see Erron waving at the spyhole. Muttering various threats, you open the door and give him your best pout. “Cute kitty.” He holds out a pink box with gold cyrillic lettering across the top. “I’ve come to apologise.” You keep up your pout and take the box with your free hand, then try to nudge the door closed with your hip. Erron laughs and strides into the flat, giving Bob a quick tickle on the head. 3 minutes later and Erron has taken over the kitchen. He has his own coffee, has eaten two of the amazing pastries he’d brought and Bob is his new best friend. The cat winds around Erron’s feet, meowing for attention, steadfastly refusing to stop even when you refill his food bowl. Traitorous beast! This must be payback for earlier. “You don’t like pastries, Sweetheart? I can go get somethin’ different?” The bastard throws you a smile that would normally have your knickers falling down, but you’re still feeling sorry for yourself, and Erron-Bloody-Black is not going to get off this easily. You have to keep up the pout so he won’t suspect your revenge plans. You shake your head and turn to tidy the counter-top behind you, thinking hard about a plan of attack. How about stealing his hats and replacing them with hats identical in every way except the hats were all just slightly too big? Your plan of attack is quickly ruined when strong hands find your hips and give them a gentle squeeze. Your spine tightens, and you hope your gasp of pleasure wasn’t audible. Lips brush your ear, and when he speaks, his warm breath sends a huge shiver right through you. “Please, Sweetheart, I’m sorry, don’t hate me. I promise, I’ll make it up to you. You want me on mah knees?” The thought of Erron on his knees is enough to make you shiver again. A hard pulse hits you right between the legs. Oh fuck, that was unfair. “It’ll take more than that.” “More cake?” He presses a very soft kiss just below your ear. Another pulse hits. Your legs quiver but you just about manage to keep yourself upright. Your knickers are going to evaporate. “You didn’t give me a chance to eat them.” Your voice is surprisingly steady but you chew on your lip to stop any pathetic noises escaping, just in case. “Dinner, every night for a week. We’ll get dressed up all fancy and go to the ballet, then spend the weekend in bed.” His voice is lower now, rougher. Another kiss sends more shivers through you, nerve endings sparking. Your fingers grab onto the countertop to stop you slithering to the floor. “That’s pretty presumptuous of you.” “You don’t wanna spend the weekend in bed with me?” Your stunned silence is answered by low laughter and him pressing a kiss to your neck. The tip of his tongue teases your tingling skin, and this time you can’t stifle your reaction. Erron takes your whimper as an invitation to slide his hands to your thighs and tug up your dress so his fingers can find bare skin. You lean back against him, his warmth quickly bleeding into you. More prickles of heat fizz through your nerves and aim straight for your core. Strong fingers dig into your thighs as he tugs your dress higher, inch by inch. Warm lips pepper kisses down your neck to your shoulders, lightly dancing his tongue over your increasingly sensitive skin, chuckling to himself with your every moan and whimper. You grip the edge of the counter harder and let your head roll to the side to give him more of you. Each touch from his mouth sends sparks down your spine and you can feel a slickness between your legs. Oh fuck... “This ok, Sweetheart?” Your reply is a mere mumble but he still gives you a moment to decline his touches, his mouth and fingers still upon you. You quickly force a “Yes, please”, and are rewarded by fingers sliding to your underwear, skimming so gently over the silken fabric to tease you. You whine at being denied his fingers and receive a gentle bite to your shoulder in reply. Then he’s gone. Your dress slithers back down to cover your thighs with you almost doing the same and slithering to the floor. You turn and watch him stride through the open door into your bedroom. Luckily he can’t see how your face scrunches into a desperate pout from being denied. “You comin’, Darlin’?” Your reply of “Well I would have been” is mumbled through gritted teeth as you trot after him, wishing you have even an ounce of self-control. He sits himself on the edge of your bed, reaching out to a hand, tugging you to sit on his lap, your legs straddling his as you face him. His large strong hands cup your face, and with a smile he presses the softest of kisses to your mouth. He waits for you to respond, then kisses you again once you kiss him back, a little harder and a little longer this time. His thumbs brush your face, then his hands are holding you close to him, close enough to feel both his warmth and his heart pounding as hard as your own. He is intoxicating, his heat, his mouth, his hands, and you want him more than anything. Your fingers find his face, stroking over his stubble prickled cheeks to learn how he feels, your touch light, nervous at finally being able to indulge yourself. He smiles at your touches and pulls you harder against him so you can feel his burgeoning hardness through his jeans, his smile widening when you wriggle to feel him, delighting in feeling his arousal because of you and enjoying your own arousal demanding attention. Your skin prickles with building desire and impulsively your hands leave his face to tug your dress up and off. He kisses you again, unbuttoning his shirt between every press of his lips to yours. His hands are then all over you, your back, your ass, stroking your skin, teasing you with the gentlest of touches then squeezing you hard enough to make you gasp between your contented sighs. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his teeth and tongue teasing louder gasps of delight from your kiss reddened lips. Your fingers stroke through his hair then roam over his chest and back, then moving over his thickly muscled arms, learning just how he feels. Erron murmurs happily into your ear and against your neck, and his fingers dig tighter into your ass, moving you against his groin, becoming more and more desperate to feel you. He tugs at your bra and when no objection is made, it joins the pile of clothing on the floor. He growls into your neck in approval at your breasts being free, and using the lightest of touches, traces the back of his fingers around the swell of your breasts and over your hard, sensitive nipples. Erron chuckles breathily at your whimpers and how you shiver from his touches, your need building as you grind down against his hardening dick encased in his jeans. Every touch of his mouth and fingers goes straight to your cunt and fuck, if he doesn’t fuck you soon, you’ll explode from the building pressure. Your fingers go for his waistband and fumble at the buttons with sweaty and shaking fingers. Erron drags his attention from your chest to watch you struggle with the stubborn fastenings. “You’re an eager one, Sweetheart.” “It’s your fault.” “Yeah, I guess it is.” He cocks an eyebrow, lifts you off his lap and lays you on the bed. Said eyebrow raises even higher when you wriggle out of your knickers and toss them aside, but it’s in jest, and he takes a long moment to gaze appreciatively at you, his smile genuine, warm and tinged deeply with desire. He tugs off his jeans and underwear with ease and tosses them to join the clothes pile, and then he’s on you. His tongue and lips find your breasts, his teasing your nipples harder ever so gently with his teeth has you tugging at his hair. You feel the graze of fingers trail down your body to your thighs that then grip you tightly enough to leave marks you’ll feel for the next few days. His long, strong fingers slide between your legs, moving them apart to finally reach your cunt. Again his touch is so light and gentle, a finger brushes over your folds before dipping between them. His thumb searches for your clit, circling around the sensitive bud as his fingers find your opening. He kisses you again, murmuring between the kisses, he whispers how beautiful you are to him, how he’s wanted you for all this time, how you feel, how hard you’ve made him and when he increases the pressure he pulls back to watch your eyes flutter closed and your teeth sink into your lower lip to stifle your pleasure. He continues to tease your clit, using your slickness to keep his touch feather light. He watches you writhe beneath him with tightly closed eyes, your back arching and one hand tangling in your own hair as he changes the pressure of his thumb on your clit, sometimes soft, sometimes rough, sometimes so feather light you beg for him to be rougher. Your feet kick against the bedclothes, rucking them up around you both as Erron pulls more and more pleasure from you. His thumb leaves your clit and he laughs at your indigent whines, instead he slides a long finger inside you. You’re so wet and needy that your cunt accepts him easily, and you soon beg for more. With a smile he adds another finger inside you, then a third, scissoring you wider, his fingers moving easily with your arousal. You whimper up at him, voicing just how good he’s making you feel, and how you want to touch him. He kisses you when you reach out to grasp his long, thick cock, stroking him harder, feeling the velvet softness of the skin over iron hardness. Your kisses quicken and deepen, tongues entwining, teeth biting at the others lips, desire building so quickly that every touch is almost desperate. When you whisper how you want him inside you he eagerly slides his fingers from you, pushing your thighs wider apart, staring into your eyes as he first strokes his cock harder, your arousal on his fingers coating his length along with the pearls of precum that weep from the crown, then rubs himself against your folds. He pauses, taking the moment to breathe, then tormentingly slowly, he pushes himself inside your hot, wet heat. His thickness feels so good, stretching you so wide you can’t help but voice your pleasure. He groans a reply and almost tauntingly slowly, he pushes deeper, his thick cock stretching you more than his fingers could. He pauses, allowing you both to catch your breath and adjust to just how perfect the other feels. He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes that shine with more than just desire, his damp hair messy, strands sticking to his forehead. Agonizingly slowly, he pushes forward, his cock stretching your cunt wider and wider as you cling to him, until he’s filled you completely. Again you kick at the bed, the sensations overwhelming you, your head light and fuzzy, your skin buzzing as sweat beads along your scalp and chest, dampening the backs of your limbs, and between where you and Erron lie against one another. Erron groans with pleasure and kisses you open mouthed, eager and lust-filled, just so happy to be with you. He tears his kiss-swollen lips from yours to take deep breaths and you stare up at him, every nerve tingles with sensation, your cunt so tight around his cock. You stroke a hand through his damp hair and whimper uncontrollably as he snaps his hips first backwards, then forwards. You nerves delight in the friction and beg for more and you’re unable to stop from begging him to fuck you, fuck you hard and fast and to fuck you now! The pace starts out so slow, his fingers digging into your hips, his mouth on yours then moving to your neck, hot breath on sweat slicked skin. Your legs wrap around him, pulling your hips upwards, angling you so he’s even deeper with each thrust, his cock making your nerves sing from the friction and the need for more. Your fingers are in his hair, tugging and stroking and you whisper and moan your delight at feeling him inside you. When neither of you can take it anymore he speeds up his thrusts, still achingly deep, are brusingly hard, your cunt so tight around him that the sensation is almost too much. Sweat rolls down the back of your legs, prickles in your hairline and down spine. Your hands are everywhere, gripping at him, holding your writhing bodies together, and slipping on his hot wet skin. The tightness in your cunt starts to radiate to your thighs and spine. Your thighs grip him tighter and you whimper your pleasure and beg for more, desperate for a release. His replies are muffled, his mouth is in the crook of your neck and when his thrusts start to quicken yet further he lifts his head to gaze down in your eyes, watching as you come undone beneath him. He whispers encouragement, delighting as your pleasure builds into a fire that overwhelms and burns, every nerve aflame and so bright. You cry out and let everything wash over you, your body writhing as Erron keeps moving inside you to prolong the feeling and let you ride out your bliss. His hands paw at your hips as he comes mere moments after you, hips thrusts jerking and stuttering, spilling deep inside you, grunting loudly with his own overwhelming pleasure. He’s heavy as he lies panting on top of you, the pair of you struggling to breath again and calm your pounding hearts. Erron chuckles breathlessly, kisses you between deep breaths, rolls first onto his back, then onto his side to face you and props himself up on one elbow. “Think I’m broken.” You snuggle up against him, reveling in the afterglow, in how your hot sweat slicked skin feels in the cool air of your apartment. “Guess I have a talent for breaking things.” He smiles. He can’t keep his eyes off you. “I hate you.” “I know.”