#I NEED A FULL GLOSSARY OF EXPLANATIONS

[completeoveranalysis]

[6]

OH

OH THAT BLACK SWIRL

OF COURSE!

HAS THE ORIGINAL SEVEN YEAR OLD SAKURA JUST BEEN TRAPPED IN TIME HERE THE WHOLE TIME?

Is… IS TH

IS THIS THE SAME SAKURA AS THE SECOND TIMELINE SAKURA WE HAVE IN CHAPTER ONE, OR ARE THEY TWO SEPARATE PEOPLE NOW?

DID THE RESETTING TIMELINE JUST SPAWN AN ENTIRELY NEW SET OF PEOPLE AND KEEP THIS SAKURA TRAPPED HERE THE WHOLE TIME?

OR WAS OUR ORIGINAL ORIGINAL SAKURA ALSO A TIME TRAVEL REPLICA?

CHARTS WERE NOT ENOUGH I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 5 - Declaration (Part 2)

Some juicy Masa-san lore drops

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

A pun. The original is "denwa shite mo dare mo den wa"

A yorishiro is an object capable of attracting spirits and giving them a space to occupy

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At the long-distance range, Kazemai and Kirisaki were doing a joint practice.

Kyudo competitions were divided into short distance and long distance. For short distance, the distance between the archer and target was twenty-eight meters, and for long distance, it was sixty meters.

They were scored on this day, using scoring targets with a diameter of one-hundred centimeters. From the center, yellow was ten points, red was nine points, blue was seven points, black was five points, and white was three points. There were also large targets with the same pattern as the kasumi-mato. They used arrows normally used for long distance shooting. The shaft was thinner than that used for short distance, and the feathers had shorter widths and lengths. That was because the lighter the feathers, the better the arrow’s flight.

After entering the shajo, the three Kazemai second-year girls advanced to stand before the targets.

“Wow, that’s a long distance. I feel like a heavier bow would have an advantage here,” Hanazawa said.

“My bow weighs ten kilograms, but will my arrow reach the target?” Shiragiku said.

“I heard that you need to score at least thirty points on four shots to place at the National Athletic Meet,” Seo said.

It was then that Motomura and Sase, alumni of Kirisaki High School, appeared. They had been invited here as today’s special coaches. Those who met the two for the first time exclaimed, “It’s the legendary Saserin!”

Motomura had achieved eighth place at the National Athletic Meet. There was a gentle smile on his face.

“Even with a light bow, you’ll be able to hit the target if you learn the tricks. The purpose of this lesson is ‘hanare’. Since the first-years have just started holding a bow, their hanare tends to be small, so practice using your entire body to make a big hanare. The shooting method is the same Eight Stages of Shooting as usual, but the key point is ‘douzukuri.’ There is something called the ‘Five Torsos’ when it comes to douzukuri.”

Sase stood in front of everyone, holding an illustrated document. The illustrations depicted the idol Noririn, and there were detailed illustrated explanations of the Eight Stages of Shooting.

He opened the douzukuri page and showed it to everyone. Soru-dou, where the torso bent backwards. Kagamu-dou, where the torso bent forward. Kakaru-dou, where the torso was leaning towards the target. Noku-dou, where the torso was leaning to the right. Chuu-dou, where the torso’s center of gravity was the most stable with an upright douzukuri.

The Kazemai first-year Keyaki asked a question.

“I’ve heard that chuu-dou is better for short distance, but does that mean it’s different for long distance?”

“That’s right. Even if a slender princess like Noririn drew her bow like usual, her arrows won’t be able to fly far. First off, ashibumi should be almost the same as for short distance, or just a little bit narrower. And that’s where noku-dou comes in. Tilt your torso to the right. For hikiwake, the bow should be pointed slightly upward, and the arrow tip should be aimed slightly higher and at a fixed point. The arrow isn’t as horizontal as it is in front of the target!”

Sase, perhaps more enthusiastic than usual with Noririn in front of him, was speaking differently than usual. Kanabayshi’s eyes sparkled as he spoke vigorously, and Himuro was his usual Maitreya.

Motomura hid his mouth with a closed fist, brought the talk to an end while stifling laughter.

“I want you to focus on nobiai. In long distance, you should have a low trajectory, fast speed, and stretch yourself forward.”

Using Motomura’s voice as a signal, they stood in front of the targets with their bow and arrows.

First, Kanbayashi faced the target. Standing before a target that was farther and larger than usual, it was difficult to get a sense of distance. He wasn’t sure which direction to bend his body, so he swayed like a seesaw.

“Ah, I guess I raised the tip too high. It hit way too high up.”

He followed the arrow in a pose similar to a salute.

Keyaki went next. At kai, he leaned his body to the right, stretched left and right, and released his arrow. It missed the target.

“It’s surprisingly difficult to stretch out on the arrow line.”

Himuro shot in his usual form and hit the outermost white ring.

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo went after him. At daisan, they tried to bend backwards. They usually practiced to keep their douzukuri upright, so they had to do it a few times to get used to it. They had Motomura and Sase observe them from behind, and visually memorized which part of the yazuridou overlapped with the center of the target. After about twenty shots, they seemed to get the hang of it, and their hit rate skyrocketed.

At break time, they opened their lunch boxes. Minato passed around a large Tupperware to everyone.

“A former member of the bad pun association lives nearby, and he gave me some vegetables he grew himself. Have them if you like.”

Ryouhei immediately dug in.

“It’s eggplant and pork grilled with ginger. It really makes the rice taste better!”

“Recently, I’ve been trying my hand at home gardening. I was surprised to learn that there are so many varieties of vegetables.”

“Is there such a thing as a vegetable sommelier?” Nanao said.

Honeyed lemons were being passed around among the Kirisaki members. It was a staple snack of the Kirisaki kyudo club, which had been around for more than thirty years. Senichi put one in his mouth and another into Manji’s.

“I think I’ll learn how to cook too. I want to treat the person I like to a homecooked meal.”

“Sen-nii, you love me that much?”

“It’s obviously so that he’ll be popular with girls,” The third-year, Kabashima, hung his head. “Stop it. What happened to kickboxing? You guys are doing too many things.”

Next to him, Yushima nodded.

Kuon was also given a honeyed lemon. However, he said, “I don’t eat food made by amateurs,” and wiped his chin without even touching the container. The people around him either said “What’s with that attitude?” and “As expected of Kuon-sama.”

After the lunch break, the competition began.

Members of the Kazemai and Kirisaki kyudo clubs lined up with four arrows in their hands. The oldest students were going first.

Kirisaki’s Kabashima and Yushima were rolling their shoulders in preparation.

“Just you watch. I’m gonna land my arrow in the center in the name of Kirisaki. The Kazemai girls are paying attention. Yushima, why don’t you wear a wig? That’ll make you popular with the girls.”

“I wouldn’t mind going along with that if you put on a hippo’s tail, Kabashima.”

“…Did the twins’ foul mouth rub off on you?”

“Our club has a Young Prince, twins, and an antique doll, doesn’t it? If you keep staying in such an extraordinary place for a long time, hair will grow in your heart, even if it doesn’t on your head.”

“You’re quite right.”

As declared, the two hit the yellow and red rings and achieved the high scores of 35 and 31 points.

Among the second-year students, Shuu, Senichi, and Manji shot in a three-person team. The twins looked smug.

“Pupupupu, we’re the strongest trio.”

“Sen-nii, shoot right in the middle.”

Shuu’s arrows all landed in yellow, the highest point, and Senichi and Manji both got thirty-three points. When it was the first-years’ turn, Kuon also got a high score.

As for Kazemai, Hanazawa got eighteen points, Shiragiku got twenty, and Seo got thirty. Kaito got thirty-four, Ryouhei got twenty-three, Seiya got thirty, Nanao got twenty-seven, Minato got thirty-three, Kanbayashi got twenty-five, Himuro got twenty-eight, and Keyaki got sixteen.

After everyone finished shooting, Shuu had forty points and Kuon had thirty-nine, giving Kirisaki a one-two finish.

Unable to hide his delight, Kuon walked past Senichi and Manji and approached Shuu.

“Fujiwara-senpai, did you see?”

“Yes, congratulations.”

That was all Shuu said before he left. There were flames in Kuon’s chest.

That’s all? That’s all? He should have more praise for me.

Why can’t he give me the smile he gives to the lowly?

He watched Shuu talking to the twins with a smile.

After the competition, Minato stayed in the entrance hall with Keyaki, Kanbayashi, and Himuro.

“Narumiya-senpai, thank you for the delicious lunch. It’s sad that Masa-san is absent today. Is his urgent business related to the shrine?” Kanbayashi said.

“Maybe. I don’t know either.”

In actuality, since Masa-san said that he didn’t like eggplant, Minato made “eggplant and pork grilled with ginger” for him to try. Maybe Masa-san realized that he was going to make him eat eggplant and ran away.

Next to him, Keyaki frowned.

“I texted him in the afternoon, but it was left unread. It’s exactly ‘I tried calling, but no one answered.’ (1) Hah, the flexible thinking training paid off, didn’t it?”

“Hahaha…it’s like there are two Seiyas,” Minato said.

“Me reaching Takehaya-senpai’s level? How unthinkable. Anyways, this is the first time that something like this happened, isn’t it? We could try sending something like, ‘What are you doing right now?’ but I don’t feel comfortable with club members prying into the coach’s private life while he’s away.”

“You have a point.”

Just when the four were about to step forward, they ran into Kuon, who was acting alone.

Kuon had a blatantly disgusted look on his face.

“Is this a commoners’ gathering? How vulgar, standing around and talking near the doorway. Narumiya-kun, you seem to be going around talking about target panic like it’s a disease, but target panic is just an excuse for the unskilled.”

“Narumiya-senpai has never gone around telling people that he had target panic,” Keyaki objected.

“Really? Target panic is just the result of a bad instructor or bad practice method. It isn’t a disease at all.”

“Are you saying that you have follow-up studies on people who had target panic? It’s valuable that you’re doing your own research on yips. I’d like to take a look at that research.”

“Well, even without something like that, the best proof is that my middle school was a strong kyudo school, and there was no one with target panic around me.”

Just when it seemed like Keyaki was going to continue arguing, Himuro spoke up.

“That’s like saying, ‘No one around me has died from the flu or the new strain of virus, so you just have a cold…’”

Minato, Kanbayashi, and Keyaki’s mouths dropped open when Himura, who they had hardly ever heard before, spoke. Meanwhile, Kuon’s face turned bright crimson.

“You dare to speak to me, you lowly commoner!? Who do you think you are?”

Behind Kuon, who was engaged in a war of words, the twins stood with their arms crossed.

“You’re the one who should be answering that question, Kuon,” Senichi said.

“There’s nothing great about people who act self-important. Our kickboxing instructor is a former champion, and his motto is ‘Stay high in ambition, low in stature,” Manji said.

Just as Senichi and Manji struck a fighting pose, the Young Prince appeared. Ryouhei was with him.

“Kuon, the first-years have been summoned.”

Kuon gave Minato and the others a sharp look and left immediately. Keyaki and the others followed.

Shuu saw them off, then stood on Minato’s right side.

“Minato, there’s something I want to ask you. I talked to Ryouhei about it earlier.”

“Okay, what is it? You’re acting so formal.”

“I’m building my own dojo. I’m planning to invite famous archers from all around the country. Minato, will you help me?”

Minato looked into Shuu’s eyes.

“…Of course.”

Senichi and Manji also pounced on it.

“Fujiwara Dojo!? Wow! Let us join too!”

“Yeah, Sen and Man can also join.”

“Woohoo!” Contrary to the enthusiastic twins, Minato was looking at his palm.

When the people around them talked about their dreams for the future, Minato felt lonely, like he had been left behind. Shuu, his brother disciple and bow friend. He was going further and further ahead. Minato was busy with kyudo, housework, and schoolwork, and had no interest in anything else.

What did he want to do in the future? What kind of job did he want to have?

He couldn’t find anyone he wanted to talk to.

During that time, Masa-san was walking along a gravel road filled with the scent of the sea.

His stepbrother, Ren, was next to him.

“It’s nice to be able to go on a trip with my cute little brother.”

“Why did you follow me?”

“I helped you when you got injured, didn’t I? The nurses found out about that and got mad at me.”

“I was an idiot for making myself owe you a favor. We’re not sharing a room at the inn.”

“This is what they call ‘in for a penny, in for a pound.’ I guess this can’t be avoided once we became family.”

Masa-san had no choice but to remain silent.

The loud chirping of birds descended from above. Since the trees were covered in leaves, it was difficult to find the source of the voice. The slopes of the mountain were dotted with beehives.

The two walked around the island and looked around the wharf. Perhaps because Ren was holding a single lens reflex camera, he was often approached by locals who thought he was a birdwatcher. Everyone was friendly here. They got into the rental car and headed to their next destination.

Primitive Shintoism still remained on this island. The object of worship was a rock, which was the deity’s yorishiro. (2) The torii gates were built later with the introduction of Buddhism, and were not originally present. It was a land of strong taboos, and because it had resisted human intervention, the beautiful, untouched forests and creatures were still visible in their ancient form.

They stopped by a certain shrine. They climbed the stone steps that stretched through the thick forest. There was no one around the shrine, and the front shrine was locked.

Ren peeked inside.

“There’s a huge kasumi-mato on the side.”

“That’s an oomato used for long distance shooting.”

“Now, where does the chief priest live?”

There was an unnatural vacant lot. Weeds were overgrown, and there was no house at the place indicated by the address.

As they descended the stone steps, a local called out to Masa-san.

“The shrine up there is wonderful. It’s said to have a sealing power.”

“Yes. There’s an oomato inside.”

“The chief priest shoots the target every year. It’s the town’s biggest festival that goes on all night long. In addition to the object of worship, human ashes are also enshrined at the shrine. They are the remains of an ascetic who’s said to seal every conceivable thing and returned them to nothingness. Someone claiming to be his descendant appeared, wanting his ashes to be buried somewhere else, but of course the parishioners refused. However, one of the townspeople secretly sold them. Three days later, they were struck by lightning. They reaped what they sow. The gods were watching.”

“Is this person the buyer?”

Masa-san showed the local a picture on his phone.

“…Yes, they look very similar. Let me go check it with the others.”

Masa-san looked up at the trees.

That night, the innkeeper spoke to them.

“We’ve been waiting for you two to come. Would you like to join our morning tour tomorrow at six? Let us take you to places tourists normally don’t go to.”

The club members were changing clothes in the Kazemai kyudojo’s changing room.

Outside the window, there were three tits perched on the fence. In the rain, they puffed out their fluffy feathers and huddled together.

After Ryouhei finished changing, he took out a book from his bag.

“Nanao, look, look. The First English Phrases Learned by Negatives.”

“Don’t you mean ‘natives’?”

“Huh? Yeah, that’s right. The store on the cover is retort.”

“You mean retro?”

“Huh?”

“Everyone’s been so out of it lately. Maybe the pun training was too effective. Is it because Masa-san’s away this week? Prefecturals is just around the corner, so we need to get our spirits back up.”

“You’re right. By the way, where’s Minato and Seiya?”

Speak of the devil, the door to the changing room swung open, and Minato appeared. He didn’t look good.

Nanao approached him.

“What’s wrong, Minato? Did you go back to get something you forgot in the classroom?”

“I’m going to be late for club activities today. My yugake’s missing.”

“What!?”

Ryouhei, Nanao, and even Kaito ran out of the changing room. They pinched their hakamas between their fingers like princess’s dresses and ran up the stairs, trying not to step on their hems. When they went to Minato’s classroom, they saw a crowd of people there. Seiya was among them.

The ends of Seiya’s eyebrows were lowered.

“It’s highly possible that it was stolen. There are several other students who are missing their wallets and phones.”

“At school? That’s crazy,” Kaito said.

“The teachers are checking the security camera footage right now. There’s no point in us staying here. Let’s go back to the kyudojo.”

Afterwards, all of Minato’s classmates were gathered together. They answered individual questions such as who was the last to leave the classroom, whether anyone from other classes had entered, and whether they had seen anyone suspicious.

Minato was also questioned.

“You’re the only one who had kyudo equipment stolen. Did you leave it at home?”

“No, I had it with me when I went to school in the morning.”

“Maybe the thief thought that there was a wallet in the drawstring bag. What time did you leave the classroom?”

“It was right after homeroom ended, so around four o’clock.”

“Is there anyone who can prove that?”

“A student from my club came to get me, so I think he can prove it.”

Even though they were victims, they were being treated like suspects. When everyone left the classroom after what felt like an interrogation, there was an air of exhaustion surrounding them. Now that they knew that the culprit might be one of them, all of Minato’s classmates suspected each other. The after-school interview lasted several hours.

Once released, Minato hurried to the kyudojo. With prefecturals coming up, he became impatient when his routine was disrupted and his practice time cut short.

Tommy-sensei and Seiya came out to greet him, and the three took deep breaths together.

“The staff contacted me earlier and said that a suspicious person was captured on the school gate’s camera. For the yugake, how about you borrow a beginner’s glove for the time being?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wouldn’t a great detective solve this case? Like an elementary school kid with glasses, or a university student with bushy hair,” Kaito said.

“Add a man who likes black tea to that. I hope the yugake is found,” Nanao said.

“I’ll lend you my underglove. How about a Java sparrow pattern?” Ryouhei said.

The other club members also gathered around, and Minato’s cheeks slackened at everyone’s concern.

Minato quickly borrowed the club’s yugake, but it was too big for him. The thumb was so long that he couldn’t flick it at hanare. However, if he put his thumb in a different spot than usual, it wouldn’t fit, and the position of the tsurumakura also became slightly off. He learned unexpectedly that there was a sense of discomfort when the yugake craftsman was different.

He wanted to talk to Masa-san. But it also pained him to add to his errands when he was already so busy that he couldn’t even show up. Minato was restless that night, unable to sleep even when he went to bed.

The thief was arrested the next day. It was a man in his thirties, who confessed that he did it after he got annoyed at seeing high schoolers enjoying themselves. Minato’s yugake returned to him, warped by water absorption after the thief threw it in a river. Apparently, he got rid of it because it had Minato’s name written on it.

It was something truly irreplaceable. He hugged his yugake tightly.

His replacement strings and giriko powder were also ruined, but the dragonfly-patterned pouch was miraculously unscathed.

Masa-san, who was contacted by Tommy-sensei, finished his business and rushed over.

“Minato, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be with you as your coach during this critical time.”

“It’s fine. This yugake I borrowed seems to be a little big.”

“There are also yugake at the Yata no Mori kyudojo, so let’s try them out and think about whether you should buy a new one.”

“Okay.”

Minato breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his master’s smile for the first time in a long while.

He tried using the borrowed yugake for a few days, but it never felt right. His yugake was something he met when he was in his first year of middle school and used for more than four years. His hand had become so accustomed to it that it rejected other yugake. Normally, one should avoid changing gloves so close to a match, but it couldn’t be helped. After consulting with his father, he decided to buy a new one.

Minato was at the Yata no Mori kyudojo.

The moon spread ripples of light that pulsated. An owl hooted from somewhere, and the trees rustled. The night sky and the forest seemed to be singing.

Masa-san, dressed in a kimono, picked up his bow.

“The only way to get a new yugake to adapt to your hand is to shoot many times. Let’s do that.”

“I only need a place to shoot, you don’t need to accompany me. You seem busy.”

“I also feel calm here. Can I shoot with you?”

“Of course.”

Masa-san raised his bow up high at the target behind Minato.

Hikiwake, kai, hanare—. There was a sound of something piercing the azuchi. Masa-san also missed his next shot. For him to miss twice was very rare.

When Minato returned from retrieving the arrows, Masa-san had put his arm back into his sleeve.

“Even you have off days sometimes, Masa-san?”

“I haven’t held a bow for almost a week, so this is the consequence. Gramps would explode from anger if he saw me. He’d say that archers need a strong presence of mind and ask me what was I doing.”

Minato mentioned something that was bothering him ever since he visited Masa-san’s apartment the other day.

“Sorry for the rude question. I saw a bag of medicine in the corner of your kitchen. Are you going to the doctor?”

“Oh no, no. That’s for hornet stings. I was stung by a hornet in the past, so it’s just in case. I just bought a new one because the warranty had expired.”

Minato was relieved now that he knew that Masa-san wasn’t feeling unwell.

“I’m glad to hear that. By the way, when I came here, I ran into Ren-san and received souvenirs for the club. They are island specialty sweets. He said that he went on a secret trip.”

“It’s not a secret trip anymore, then, is it? That Ren, what is he planning?”

“Planning?”

Masa-san put his hand between his brows and took a deep breath. He had an “Oh crap” look on his face. He reached his hand out for the moon, and something with wings descended upon him.

“Oh, we’re high school students, so don’t worry, we won’t investigate who Ren-san went on a trip with,” Minato added.

“Ren went on the secret trip with me.”

“We were looking for someone. My birth father, and my deceased younger brother.”

“…What?”

Fuu the owl nibbled on Masa-san’s long fingers, then started to groom its feathers. Masa-san put Fuu on Minato’s shoulder and went to the archery range.

“Cutting things short, this time was also in vain. I had a younger brother who was three years younger than me, and we were related by blood. Even though I was young, I was proud of the fact that I became an older brother. I really loved him. But when he was three, he was kidnapped by my birth father.”

“Your dad and your little brother?”

“Yeah. He was in the photo Nanao gave me. I asked the parishioners to confirm it, so I’m pretty sure. Who is in the picture next to him? I couldn’t tell if he was my little brother grown up or someone else. In my memories, my brother was curled up sleeping in my lap.”

“W-What did Ren-san say?”

“Ren said ‘in for a penny, in for a pound.’ It looks like he’ll be going along with me. Ren’s father and my mother are childhood friends, and they’re helping me find my brother. When they found out that my birth father was planning to take me away as well, they hurriedly entered the family registry because it would be easier to move in case of an emergency. We’ve also consulted with the police, but it’s just an endless cycle of getting hints of them before they disappear again.”

“Why is your birth dad so obsessed with your little brother and you?”

“He said something nonsensical like, ‘Those who have the same special genes as me should be raised in the proper place.’ Even if I can see paranormal things, why does it matter? He was disliked for being shady but worshipped by others at the same time. Either way, he was treated as a heretic. Since Yata Shrine isn’t affiliated with any organization, there is no rule for inheriting surnames, and he’s a distant relation of the Yasaka family. He never did his duties as a priest and spent all his time in the shrine’s archives, and he never acted like a father even once. It happened the year after my mother remarried, when I was in my first year at university. He sent me the death certificate for my brother. And what’s more, it was on my birthday… Ever since that day, my birthday no longer existed.”

“That’s awful…”

“Give my brother back, give him back, give him back. I’ve chanted those words tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of times. It’s no longer a prayer. It’s a curse.”

“Masa-san!”

Minato reached for Masa-san’s hand, but was deflected. Fuu took off in surprise.

“Minato, don’t touch me right now. No one believes that my brother is dead, but there was a doctor who assisted my birth father in his evil deeds. He has supporters. I’m glad I didn’t find him this time. I don’t know what I’ll do if I see him and the people who helped him.”

Masa-san looked up at the sky. The full moon was shining.

When people looked up, it could mean a statement of declaration.

A declaration—a contract with the gods.

“My birthday has become the anniversary of my brother’s death. I will never forgive those people who rewrote the story of me and my brother. No matter how many times we’re reborn, I’ll always find them and end their lives with my own hands—”

 Every day, he put his hands together in prayer.

I want to see you, I want to see you.

Why aren’t you in this picture?

Would his soul be reincarnated with this hatred that rose up within him? Memories engraved even in undifferentiated cells transcended dimensions. A flame that wouldn’t be extinguished for a thousand or ten thousand years.

Was it possible to live with such a heavy burden? Living was hell, dying was hell, there was no heaven or earth in the looping spiral staircase. Wandering forever, never getting anywhere. Unable to put down roots in the earth or soar through the sky. Days when he cut his own body with a knife. He knew it wasn’t something to be said aloud, so he kept quiet.

I wasn’t born to hate anyone.

That was what Minato heard.

A heartbreaking cry. A soundless voice.

He didn’t know whose voice it was, but this was Masa-san’s real voice.

“Correction! I’m correcting you. What you said earlier wasn’t true. Masa-san is just a dirty old man. That’s all!” Minato shouted.

“Mi, Minato?”

“If a priest said something like that and his wish was granted, wouldn’t it be a problem? I’m going to learn professional wrestling. I’ll put you in a chokehold and stop you!”

Masa-san blinked a few times, then burst into laughter.

“It’s too much, Minato.”

“What is?”

“Everything. My disciple really is cute.”

“Huh? Don’t call me cute! In the first place, everyone celebrated your birthday for you, and then you say that you don’t have a birthday? What a selfish thing to say. My mom used to say that your birthday is a day to say thank you for being born.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll keep it in mind. I take back what I said earlier.”

“Masa-san, you’re acting like a middle schooler.”

“I don’t want to be told that by a kid.”

“I’m not a kid! I’m sixteen, a second year in high school!”

Masa-san was clutching his stomach as he laughed. How rude. I’m being serious.

The bright red something that had shrouded Masa-san disappeared.

Guren, meaning “crimson lotus,” was originally a Buddhist term, and the seventh of the Eight Cold Hells, the Padma hell, was also called the “hell of the crimson lotus.”  Those who fell into this hell were said to suffer from severe pain as their skin and flesh were torn off due to the severe cold. They were said to look like red lotus flowers.

Please, don’t go to the farthest reaches of the north.

Don’t disappear from my sight.

A second time.

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[landograndprix]

Hi! I just learned about F1 and some drivers but don’t know where to start learning or what to learn about F1 racing 😭😭😭 I really want to get into F1 so if you could recommend me something or idk anything to help me that’ll be great

Okay so I think knowing the basics goes a long way so here's a simple explanation—

The grid consists of 10 teams with each 2 drivers ⤵

red bull -> Max Verstappen, Sergio 'checo' Perez

mercedes -> Lewis Hamilton, George Russell

ferrari -> Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr

Mclaren -> Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri

Aston Martin -> Fernando Alonso, Lance Stroll

Williams -> Alex Albon, Logan Sargeant

racing bulls -> Yuki Tsunoda, Daniel Ricciardo

Alpine -> Esteban Ocon, Pierre Gasly

Stake -> Valtteri Bottas, Zhou Guanyu

Haas -> Kevin Magnussen, Nico Hulkenberg

there's third drivers as well who for example take the seat of a driver who's fallen sick and aren't able to race that weekend but we'll get to that once it actually happens 😅

Race weekends consists of three days ⤵

Fridays are for free practice 1 & 2

Saturdays are for free practice 3 & qualifying

Sundays are for the race

* schedule is different during sprint weeks, you can read about that here.

- free practice 1,2 & 3

Are sessions where teams and drivers get used to the track and test car setups and gather data and all that.

- qualifying

Determines the starting grid.

The first five drivers with the slowest laptime will be eliminated in Q1

In Q2 the next five slowest drivers are eliminated

Q3 will determine the top 10, the driver with the fastest lap will get pole position, so will start in p1.

- race

should be simple, just the race.

the drivers who finish in the top 10 all get points.

P1 - 25 points

P2 - 18 points

P3 - 15 points

P4 - 12 points

P5 - 10 points

P6 - 8 points

P7 - 6 points

P8 - 4 points

P9 - 2 points

P10 - 1 point

+ 1 bonus point for the driver with the fastest lap, that is if they place in the top ten.

++ there's a thing called Driver of the day where we can vote for who we think deserves to be called driver of the day but they don't get points for it

there's the drivers championship for the drivers obviously and the constructors championship for the teams.

tires ⤵

Softs –> the fastest tire, but are likely to wear out before the harder ones do.

Mediums -> somewhere in the middle tire. usually slower than the softs and faster than hards, should also last longer then softs and shorter than hard.

Hard –> don't have a lot of grip but should last the longest.

intermediates -> used on a wet track as well as a drying track

full wets -> for the heavy rain

flags ⤵

Green flag -> means the track is clear

Red flag -> means the race has been put to a stop and all cars should make their way back to the pits. Most likely after an incident or during risky weather conditions

chequered flag -> first one to see this flag is the race winner

yellow flag -> means the drivers need to slow down most likely due to debris on the track, a driver's spun out

sc -> Safety Car is put on track when an incident blocks the track and/or leaves a lot of debris. The drivers need to stay behind the sc until the marshals have cleared up.

vsc -> virtual safety car put out for minor incidents, where no safety car is on track, but drivers need to slow down to a required delta.

* there are so many flags but I feel like these are the most important ones for a beginner to know

honestly, there's so much to f1 and I'd be here for hours if I have to talk about it all but my best advice is to watch the races, look things up, watch stuff on YouTube and driver wise, if you want to get to know them more, look up their teams YouTube channels they do challenges and all that and hell, some drivers have their own channels and most importantly, don't be afraid to ask others if you're confused about something..I remember my first f1 race 😅

got you some links that might help you 😘

f1

f1 glossary

f1 beginners guides

f1 YouTube

drivers

Charles YouTube

Carlos YouTube

Lando YouTube + quadrant

[that-dreaming-dragon]

Hope it's okay to respond in asks

It's me (J), and one other which have this close connection with snow leopards. Para is a snow leopard but usually presents anthro. I am feline, I have an affinity for being a big cat bodily. It is very important to me.

It feels simultaneous, or at the least there's a bit of lag. I could be receiving the feelings from Para but not sure. It's also more than the place. It's kind of a mindset? It's kind of the euphoria we get from being in grey that doesn't apply to anyone in specific. It's the knowledge of being that animal without it quite feeling like noemata? Coming from a system raised human, you wouldn't expect us to have experiences of an Earthly leopard.

Para: there is a picture of a snow leopard I saw once and said "that's me" entirely earnestly. Maybe that's what this is? I haven't thought much about this to be entirely honest...I have a lot of other jobs and identity to focus on. I tend to have past lives, but this doesn't feel like past. The only word to describe it for me is parallel.

Perfectly fine to do so!

Do you both wish to define it? There are usually those who want a term, then there are those who prefer no labels, and then there are those who just shrug and work with what's available. Because at the end of the day, what y'all feel is simply that, your experience. There doesn't have to be a name to it, it is what it is, one's experience of animality. The simple state of being nonhuman. You have a starting point, you can try to trace back, go forward and do activities or get items that help increase the feelings. Like you (Para) said, it sounds like you have a full plate already. I most of the time let my identities sit in the background of my life and let noemata or whatever things come up themselves, it's served me well, this passive way of self-search. 'Course we can also look up a glossary of terms and go through them. I'm the type that likes to find terms for ourselves and see if anything fits or not. And if nothing crops up, ah well. At the end of the day, the definition is really just "identifying as the animal" without the extra of reasoning, origin, and circumstances surrounding the experience (for therio/kintype experiences). Or however it needed to be reworded depending on the 'type.

We could probably claim concurrent life and call it a day. If parallel works for you, that's good too! Although there is still an undertone of spirituality attached. I'd separate metaphysical explanations like the astral from the spiritual, but that's a nuance most don't really bother with and just put them together (so someone is living human but astrally nonhuman).

And well, aren't the whole community raised human? Yet here we are :p You are what you are. I think that sort of societal "norm" expectation just doesn't apply to alterhuman in general.

... It's uhh, a little funny, hopefully not offending, but paratype crossed my mind, if it is the case of Para's feelings bleeding over to J. Though I don't know if there is ever a talk of plural element within the discussion of paratype experiences. I think it is likely.

Hmm, here's a question, when did the feeling of being a snow leopard start? Maybe an imprint happened, maybe brain funny business, maybe it's always there and just needed a trigger, maybe subconsciously it became part of y'all.

[inquisitorius-sin-bin]

Do you think Ride or Die will have more than thirty-five chapters? Just curious, as I see no end in sight (though I'm behind a few chapters, and I don't want it to end).

Honestly I thought I was going to hit the equinox like 10 chapters ago so with my pacing, who knows (probably)? I will say I am definitely on a tipping point in the plot now towards the climax. But with all the world building and the relationships and character-building... these chapters get crazy long very quickly. Sometimes I think one series of events I've thought up will be one chapter, and it ends up being three.

I have an ending in mind, an epilogue at least. I have more plot ends to weave in and then some stuff I would like to incorporate if I have time. I also need to put more appendixes in the glossary at some point, stuff that just doesn't fit into the work like sexual dimorphisms, deeper explanations of the regions or occupations, how the migrations work, especially with carts full of items to fly, stuff like that.

Like, Tsino's varactyl didn't just disappear. I know where it is. But the Kites flew into town, so obviously it isn't with them. But neither are their birds. So all those animals have to go somewhere when the Kites aren't around for a few weeks. Whether or not I can slip that explanation gracefully into the work... we'll see.

[roottonki]

Collins german grammar

COLLINS GERMAN GRAMMAR FULL

We will then contact you with the appropriate action.

If you have not received any information after contact with Australia Post, please contact us to confirm that the details for delivery logged with us are correct.

If you have not received your delivery following the estimated timeframe, we advise you to contact your local post office first, as the parcel may be there awaiting your collection.

Please be aware that the delivery time frame may vary according to the area of delivery and due to various reasons, the delivery may take longer than the original estimated timeframe.

Delivery with Standard Australia Post usually happens within 2-10 business days from time of dispatch.

You can track your delivery by going to AusPost tracking and entering your tracking number - your Order Shipped email will contain this information for each parcel. Tracking delivery Saver Delivery: Australia postĪustralia Post deliveries can be tracked on route with eParcel. NB All our estimates are based on business days and assume that shipping and delivery don't occur on holidays and weekends. Order may come in multiple shipments, however you will only be charged a flat fee.ġ-2 days after each item has arrived in the warehouseġ The expected delivery period after the order has been dispatched via your chosen delivery method.ģ Please note this service does not override the status timeframe "Dispatches in", and that the "Usually Dispatches In" timeframe still applies to all orders. Items in order will be sent via Express post as soon as they arrive in the warehouse. Order may come in multiple shipments, however you will only be charged a flat fee.Ģ-10 days after all items have arrived in the warehouse I would have given it five stars otherwise as it does go through the grammar simply and methodically.Items in order will be sent as soon as they arrive in the warehouse. Oh, and did I mention that some of the tables don't fit on the page, so you get part of it on one page and part on another? What makes it worse is that if you need the print a little larger it distorts it even further. Sometimes, believe it or not, the word will be split into two with one half on one line and the other on another line, maybe to the left, or then again maybe to the right. It seems to get worse the further through you go.įor example: One word in the table will start in the middle. Whoever typed the tables was an amateur and didn't have a clue what they were doing. To do this the tables need to be set out clearly and simply. One of the most important things when learning German grammar is to get to grips with the word endings. I bought this kindle edition to read on my ipad. Other titles available in the Collins Easy Learning German range are: Collins Easy Learning German Dictionary, Collins Easy Learning German Verbs and Collins Easy Learning German Words.

Clear, colour layout ensures that you find the information you need quickly and easily.

Hundreds of examples of real German illustrate clearly the grammatical points being made.

Collins Easy Learning German Grammar explains the essential points of German grammar using simple language throughout.

An index contains thousands of verbs which are cross-referred to their conjugation model.

COLLINS GERMAN GRAMMAR FULL

In addition, a full glossary gives clear explanations of grammatical terminology.Ĭollins Easy Learning German Grammar also provides beginners with all the regular verb forms and conjugations, and the most common tenses of irregular verbs are shown in full. Key grammatical points are highlighted as a means of reinforcement. It provides easily accessible information in an attractively presented layout, with new German spellings included throughout. Designed to accompany the widely acclaimed Collins Easy Learning German Dictionary and now with all the new German spellings, Collins Easy Learning German Grammar offers beginners a clear and easy-to-understand guide to the verbs and grammar of German.Ĭollins Easy Learning German Grammar has been designed for all those learning German at school, at work or at home.

[magnificent-winged-beast]

THE DESTIEL BINGO/DRINKING GAME 2.0 - LAST CHANCE

Some time ago, exactly when the episode “Tombstone SPN 13x06” was about to air. We clowns weren’t clowns yet just destihellers. One of my first best pals on tumblr @castielismyfavouriteangel​ @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow​​ @starsinursa​​  and I, created this first DRINKING GAME FOR THE 18+ Destiel now clown collective that wanted to do something silly celebrating this new episode that will bring the official return of Castiel to the screen, plus THE Deancas reunion. And because of the all the manipulative use of Twitter and other SM the SPN writers could queer bait upon us plus the meta community/ positive police, as the imminent CANONIZATION OF DESTIEL. 

And according my personal keeping of the archives on the Destiel drama/shiping that I lived. That´s when we start owning our makeup, wigs, red nose and proudly  accepting the title of Clowns. Yes, I’m a proud clown, because till this minute I want to believe we have like 3 episode where this two can have some sort of a canonization ON SCREEN. But being honest and accepting the sub-text consolation price we probably receive tonight, or in the las episode.

A n y w a y s.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Because tonight is probably our last opportunity to play this silly game, and we will need all the liquid help, why don´t get shit face while playing something? This is my personal plan for tonight and some of the 18+ or 21 years old according the laws of your country about the legal age to drink CLOWNS IN OUR ROOM In our Room on Kast. So her it is a basic instructions and explanation if you want to join me/us.

BINGO IS FOR SENIORS IN A HOME, I HAVE THE AGE APPROPRIATE TO DRINK AS MUCH AS I WANT TO.

This list wouldn’t be possible, if it wasn’t for the help of @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow​​ who listed some items discussed on our Chat group. Neither without @starsinursa​​ who help to correct the final Destiel Tropes’s list; that started with this Original idea, resulting in the initial items detailed in this First Post of hers (OMC it was 2017 o_O) of a casual chat between two shipers. So far, we manage to list 25 Destiel tropes, that could happen in the follow episode (s), and actually happened through all the seasons since “Lazarus Rising SPN 04x01” Aka. The first blind date. If you will be watching the episode with a group of friends, this may spice up the reunion episode, either if you can actually use the follow list for “The Drinking Game” or you are underage or unable to drink and play The Destiel Bingo! that is explained at the end of the post under the cut.

Congratulations!! If you can perform the “Destiel Drinking Game” is because you are +18 or +21, according the laws of your country, and also without any responsibility the follow day to use and abuse of your liver within the 45 min episode length.

Now, for the “Destiel Drinking Game” I may suggest you to have a bottle of approx. 750ml (25.36 US fl oz) of some light liquor like: Beer, Wine or Sake. And another bottle of hard liquor (the quantity is up to you and personal beliefs of the angels and all the saints that you will need to rescue you from the following handover) like: Vodka, Whisky or Tequila to combine both and follow the instructions given in every item.

GLOSSARY FOR THE THIRSTY AND TRUE CLOWN

A shoot =   A small glass to hold hard liquor like Vodka or Whisky. (I may suggest Jägermeister or Absinthe for the adventurous)

A Sip = As much as you can absorb or want to drink in one single take of your light liquor.

Two Sips = A Sip X 2.

Finish your drink = Self-explanatory, either if the glass is full or just A Sip is left, you must dry it completely.

Finish your drink and Take a shot = you read it, now do it!

You better not drive home = Oh Happy Day!! Destiel is Canon and you should stay home and celebrate drinking every liquid nearby you. Cheers!!

FINAL DISCLAIMER: Dear members of the league. We mean no offense against Sam Winchester. We are not disparaging him in any way. We love Sam and we share his suffering that’s why he is part of this game.

I hope to see you all Clowns and specially the Castiel lovers/devotees/Stans tonight on our Room on KAST. This is only a mere suggestion if you want to participate in something silly that can include or not any liquid help. I’m tagging all the usual crowd if wants to join me in the drinking game, or bingo game.

Under the cut is the BINGO VERSION if you are under 18 or the legal age to drink, or you don´t want or like to partake on libation to the Gods of Gay Ships.

THE DESTIEL BINGO!

First, you need your BINGO! Card (s). You can find customized Destiel Bingo Cards in this link. The link will look like this:

In the right column (BNG) you will find random numbers from 1 – 25 to play the BINGO! Game. In the left column (Drinks) the amount of drinks/shots you should take once one of this Destielisms happen on screen.

@fangirlxwritesx67 @michyribeiro @naruhearts; @castiel-saved-me-from-myself; @flyingcatstiel; @navajolovesdestiel; @destielette @babyinthetrench; @4evamc; @misccee;  @jenabean75; @bamcrux; @braezenkitty; @julesthequirky; @thatsnotwhoifuckingam; @gatstiel ; @bluefirecas @ain-t-bovvered;  @helianthus21; @emblue-sparks; @niteowlangel; @mcinspires @mmmexperimental; @dean-cas-in-the-impala; @agusvedder ; @mishezza  @cassielshalo ; @webcricket; @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @trenchcoatsandfreckles @legendary-destiel @jessalrynn  @lykanyouko  @lugiadepression @maleansu  @soleeryx @ptqshka @joey-ramone-is-my-spirit-animal  @crxstalcas @ryugarika  @verobatto-angelxhunter @fingergunsbidean @rennerator @skycruise @dancingtuesdaymorning @instantlymellowwasteland @tranquildespondence @destinyisalady @risenlucifer @cateyes315 @drsilverfish @ivegivenupugh @bluestar86 @amwritingmeta @sketching-fox @dw-sw @pray4jensen @the-faerie-circle @jemariel @mrsaquaman187 @ltleflrt  @zevbaldwin @winchester-reload @wanderingcas @headust  @destielle @mishka @dragonpressgraphics @cloverhighfive @bend-me-shape-me @mercurialkitty @zationao3 @casismybestfriend @lizleeillustration @thefriendlypigeon @shixpe @a-bit-of-influence @foodiestiel  @hi-its-teamfreewill  @carolinasacco  @dimples-of-discontent  @spnsmile @castielismyfavouriteangel @youhaveaguineapigwhere @nevarevermore @casualpandabeliever @nox-lee @santamadredidios @ozonecologne @but-for-the-gods-three-days  @wiseoldowl72 @canonspngifs @c-kaeru @weathergirl83 @stopmakingfaces @cas-essence @dixseptdixhuit @spn-4-ever @ohmydeancass @pallasperilous​ @playfulpanthress @eames-with-a-rose @beanie-beebo​ @starlightcastiel​ @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @brazencas @this-is-a-moose-ing @duckie0167 @obsessedandindistress @50shadesofsubtext​ @still-talking-for-some-reason​ @holydestiel​  @prayedtoyou​

[xxxrubytuesdayxxx]

If you let Jeongguk kiss you

Word Count: 3,705

Disclaimers: This is part (32) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

Check at the end for glossary of Korean terms*

Start here:

“What the fuck are you doing Kookie?!” you hiss, but he ignores you and presses his lips against yours. You’re so taken aback that you automatically let him slip his tongue into your mouth, and kiss him back. He tastes amazing, and you can’t hold back a little appreciative noise. He grins and, checking one more time to make sure Jimin and Taehyung are still preoccupied with their game, he dips his head to whisper in your ear: “Come in my room for a bit?”

“Mwo!? Andwaeyo! Behave yourself Jeongguk!” you warn him futilely, but those gorgeous cat-shaped eyes, tinted with green and fringed with lovely lashes are daring you to keep objecting. “Fine…” you mutter. “But for fuck’s sake, at least be subtle!”

“Algesseo,” he smiles, all deceptive innocence. In a flash he’s back in the living room with the others, and you start breathing again and return to preparing their dinner, sure you imagined the whole thing. That is until you hear him announce in an overly-loud voice that he’s ‘going to go take a nap now.’ So much for subtle. You roll your eyes and choke back an involuntary giggle. Jimin overhears you and asks, mistaking your suppressed laughter for kitchen woes, if you want him to do the onions. You tell him that’s sweet, but you’re fine and far from onion-stage yet. He seems happy to return his attention to his game.

Desperately trying to think of a plausible reason for pulling a disappearing stunt immediately after Jeongguk’s, you faff around with the marinade for a minute and then resolve to lie and say you have to go grab something from the corner shop. Fortunately Yoongi re-emerges on cue to ask if you can possibly pop up the road for some green tea as he’s running low. Thank God for your emergency stashes. You smile, tell him you’ll pick some up now, as you have a couple of other things you need to do, and make your exit. Of course, Jeongguk is just waiting for you to pass his door which slides open soundlessly as you walk past. You slip inside and he slides the door shut with a cheeky grin. He’s barefoot but still dressed in his black skinnies and black button-up collared shirt.

“Okay, here I am!” you whisper. “Now what exactly are you…” You don’t get any further, as he jumps you: arms wrapped around you, tongue down your throat, hips pressed against yours, the whole bit. You kiss him back and enjoy the make-out session for a minute, but eventually you have to push him lightly but firmly away from you. He makes a tiny whimper of protest and strains forward to kiss you again. You smile in amusement, but stop him.

“Why Kookie? What’s gotten into you?” you ask him, bemused. He slides his finger under your bra strap along your shoulder, and shrugs, pouting.

“Hago sipo…you know…norang jago sipo,” he explains, shyly.

“Wow, what?! Just out of nowhere?” you press him, gently. He shrugs again. “I want to see what you’re like in bed,” he persists. “And…I think you’re pretty,” he adds meekly.

“Gomawo. I think you’re pretty too,” you return the compliment. He takes this as an invitation and launches himself at you again, his kisses hotter and his hands heavier than they were last time. You can feel his body getting excited as he presses it impatiently against you.  

“Jeongguk!” you reprimand him. “You can’t possibly be serious. You can’t just have sex with me to ‘see what I’m like in bed’. I mean you’re lovely, don’t get me wrong. Devastatingly lovely even. But don’t you think you should wait until you have feelings for someone before you bang them? Or…I dunno…at least let it just happen naturally?” He considers this, then gets a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Gugang songgyo?” he counters.

“Oh my God, you’re incorrigible,” you laugh, incredulous. He flutters his eyelashes at you beguilingly and pouts those perfect lips. Fine. Whatever. You can’t resist that look. He sees the surrender in your face and smiles wickedly as you pull him towards you. “Just be really quiet, okay? The others think I’ve gone out.”

“I know,” he assures you deferentially, “I’ll be quiet.” You’re not convinced, but you lead him over to his bed and sit him down on the edge, leaning over to kiss him deeply as your fingers search for the zipper on his jeans. He grabs your face in his hands and returns your kisses fervently. He’s clearly getting more and more excited and you worry he’s not going to be able to keep his promise to be quiet. This concern deepens as you get him unzipped and release his erection into the cool evening air.

“Oh sshibal,” he groans, softly but audibly. “Jeongguk,” you warn him.

“Mian,” he whispers. You get on your knees in front of him, easing his tight jeans and briefs down his legs. His eyes widen and his lips part.

“Geuman,” you whisper, trying not to laugh at his expression. “Don’t act so fucking innocent, it’s off-putting.” You return your attention to his lower body, dipping your head to run your tongue along his shaft, and he gasps loudly. You figure that’s kind of inevitable, so you let it go and start to suck him off. He is anything but quiet.

Obviously a passing Hoseok is concerned by the sounds of apparent distress coming from the maknae’s bedroom and sticks his head in to check on him. He takes a second to register, then bursts out laughing, and hurriedly shuts the door, drawing the attention of Namjoon who has just returned from his studio.

“What’s so funny, Hobi?” he asks him, throwing his keys onto the hall table.

“Noona’s got a mouth full of Kookie,” Hoseok quips.

“An unfortunate choice of phrase,” Namjoon remarks. “It sounds like you mean…”

“No that’s literally exactly what I mean,” Hoseok corrects him.

“Wait, what?” Namjoon sounds bewildered. “Wow. What goes on in this place when I leave you guys alone for a few hours?” You hear the sounds of them both retreating into the living room and figure you may as well enjoy yourself, if you’re busted anyway. You lap the pre-cum from the head of Jeongguk’s cock, then rock back on your heels and look up at him. He looks ethereal and innocent, but his usually-wide eyes are hooded, and that freaking adorable smile is still playing around his mouth. The light glints off the diamantes on his red choker, making his neck look fragile and graceful. His lips part as he exhales, and opens his eyes to look down at you.

“Why did you stop?” he whispers. You stand up.

“You can stop whispering, Kookie – they all know what we’re doing in here now,” you tell him, smiling and shaking your head at him in exasperation. “Your definition of ‘quiet’ needs work,” you add, by way of explanation. He blushes and looks at the floor, which just makes you feel even more like you’re violating him. You really cannot resist him though, so you lean over and kiss him softly. He lays back on the bed, pulling you down on top of him while you’re still kissing, and opening his mouth to tangle his tongue with yours. You run your hands up under his shirt to caress his perfectly smooth chest. He makes the little noises of sweet surrender and pulls you greedily against him.

“Make me finish in your mouth,” he murmurs against your lips, in English.

“You’re a nappeun, nappeun sonyon Jeongguk,” you tease him. “Where did you even learn that kind of talk?…And it’s cum…make me cum. Finish is very…high school.”

“Make me cum in your mouth,” he repeats obediently in broken English.

“Jowomyon,” you answer him in Korean. He smiles angelically and you let out an involuntary sigh.

“Mwo?” he looks anxious.

“Amugottto. You’re just…very beautiful. Your lips are a perfect cupid’s bow,” you murmur. He giggles, which makes it worse, then pulls his silky black shirt up in that distinctive way Jimin has taught him, so you get an eyeful of his gorgeously -toned stomach and a flash of dark nipple.

“Ije geumanhae, Kookie!” you laugh. “You’ve already won me over. No need to torture me!”

He sticks his tongue out and flicks yours with it teasingly.

“Can you do that to me?” he asks, all coy again.

“Do what? Oh! To your…?” You gesture at his chest for confirmation, and he nods, his dark hair falling into his face with the movement. You smile at him to try and ease his nervousness. You don’t want him to think he can’t ask for what he wants in the bedroom. Not breaking eye contact, you carefully unbutton and open his shirt then run your hands up and along the sides of his ribs towards his exposed nipples. His skin is the colour of dark honey and he’s sinfully soft and warm. You almost can’t keep going, he’s making you so giddy with lust. His chest rises and falls gently – so gently he could be sleeping if it wasn’t for the static electricity that seems to be buzzing through him. He tosses his head feverishly to one side on the pillow so you can see one of his earrings resting against the top of his jawline. You lean across and run your tongue over one of his hard nipples, and a soft moan escapes his lips.

“Jogot joahaeyo, Kook?” you tease him. “That feels…nomu joeun,” he breathes, reverting to his native tongue in the throes of passion. He smiles and tosses his head back the other way, half-laughing at himself, with his eyes still shut. You keep licking and playing with his nipples while your other hand reaches down between his legs to find his cock, which is still pretty hard. He twitches under your fingers and you gently run your hand up and down the length of him. He moans louder, his breath catching in his throat.

“Sit up baby,” you tell him, pulling him forward by his slender arm. He adjusts himself into a sitting position, doe-eyed and doll-like as you drop in front of him again.

“Baby…” he coos back at you, mimicking your tone. “I am not a baby,” he corrects you, innocently. Then, “Kiseuhaeyo!” pouting, his voice silky and soft. You do as he asks, with your hand on his chest. His breath purrs out of him like a kitten.

“Baby, baby…” he calls you in a sing-song voice. You lean across and whisper in his ear: “You’re being too sweet Jeongguk. Show me your naughty side.”

“Uh! Oh! Fuck!” he yells, provoking you. You shake your head and giggle.

“Babo,” you mutter, with a smile to show him you’re just teasing. He kisses you again, rougher this time and you feel the heat rushing through your body. You run your hands along the tops of his legs, then lean down to replace your fingers with lips, kissing the insides of his toned thighs. You bite him and suck his skin, leaving tiny marks of possession on him, and his moans are reminiscent of his singing voice now - like liquid sex. You notice his delicate fingers are playing with the air like he wants to grab something, so you guide his hand to the back of your head. He immediately clutches the edge of his sheets with the other, then presses you towards his fully-erect cock, finally letting his instincts override his coyness. You oblige him willingly, drawing his erection into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head of his quivering cock.

“Ah ssibal,” he swears softly. You bob your head up and down, trying to stay in rhythm with his hand on your head which is rapidly gaining speed. Between his moaning and the hardness of him you can tell he’s nearly there. Then his hips give a violent jerk.

“Okay, I’m gonna…ohhh momchwo!” he begs, writhing like he’s in pain. Too late. His hips jerk again and your mouth is flooded with his creamy deliciousness. You swallow every last drop before he falls onto his back with a self-conscious giggle.

“Mian…” he murmurs to the air. He puts his hands over his face, in embarrassment. You pull them away and kiss him lightly. He’s blushing so much his cheeks are hot to the touch. He flings his arm back across his face with an adorable little noise to try and show you that he’s shy.

“Jeongguk, you ditz. You’ve just had your jaji in my mouth – I know you’re not that shy,” you coax him, bemused. You get a pillow in the head for your troubles, so you lean down, grab his lovely ankle and kiss his foot, before making your exit. He squeals like a brat, but when you glance back at him he’s stretched luxuriously across his bed, arms flung behind his head with a sexy little smile on his lips. He looks immensely pleased with himself.

Of  course you try to sneak back into the kitchen and finish the dinner preparations and of course you fail. Jimin and Tae have abandoned their game to come and find out what all the fuss is about, following Hoseok’s report.

“Did you fuck JK?” demands Jimin of you, clearly amused.

“Not technically…” you avoid the question, and his eyes. He laughs until he squeaks, which of course sets Tae off as well. Fuck’s sake.

Thank God, Yoongi’s illicit girlfriend Mai chooses that moment to materialize on your front doorstep and you excuse yourself to let her inside.

“Hey Mai-ssi,” you greet her enthusiastically. She looks at you curiously.

“Um, hey. Is everything alright in here?” she checks, noting your flushed appearance. Her eyes flash to Jimin and Tae who have stuck their heads out of the kitchen to see what’s happening and then back to you.

“Yeah, yeah. Just the usual maknae shenanigans,” you tell her. She laughs.

“Right. Is Yoongi in his room?” she checks.

“Uh-huh,” you nod. She thanks you and walks over to his door, which slides open to let her in. So much for distracting those two hyenas. You reluctantly return your attention to them, but discover they have decided to raid Jeongguk’s room instead to try and get the details from him. You open the door to find its occupant smacking Taehyung enthusiastically with one of the mangas from his bedside table. Thankfully he has obviously pulled his jeans back on upon hearing them ribbing you, but his shirt is still open and you try not to stare, as he looks delicious and you don’t want to exacerbate the problem. You disarm him and shoo the other two out of his room.

“Can you two please calm down?” you ask them incredulously.

“We just wanted to know what was going on,” Jimin points out, giving you his best innocent look. Tae nods in agreement, looking like he’s having a hard time maintaining his own angelic deportment. Namjoon wanders in and wags his finger at you in mock chastisement.

“Have you been corrupting our little maknae?” he asks you, with a wink. You try and look adequately repentant, as he helps himself to some grapes.

“Mian, Namjoon,” you tell him.

“S’alright,” he sighs. “I know what he’s like, despite his peaches-and-cream demeanour. Can we just keep the clandestine sexual encounters to a minimum though? It’s tricky enough with Mai-ssi sleeping with Yoongi-hyung and us having to assure Big Hit they’re way more pure than they are in reality. Anyway, aren’t you meant to be helping me prevent exactly this sort of thing? I’m the leader but you’re the alleged ‘adult’ after all,” he teases. You mutter another apology and he shrugs his forgiveness and heads across to his room, after checking dinner is somewhat under control.

Jeongguk doesn’t appear to have any intention of modifying his behaviour post-blow-job. He comes up behind you while you’re in the kitchen fixing the dessert and presses himself against you, running his hands up your sides, under your top and burying his face in your neck. He’s pressed so close against you that you can feel he’s hard through his jeans. You try to push him away, but it’s impossible. He smells amazing and you realise he’s doused himself in the cologne Jin bought him for Christmas.

“Stop it Kookie,” you whisper. “We literally just got in trouble for this earlier tonight.” He ignores your objections, turns you around and kisses you deeply.

“Dangsin masi jota,” he murmurs. You sigh.

“Yes, so do you. But please stop,” you beg him. “Namjoon is going to know exactly what you’re doing in here. What the hell did you tell them anyway?” He shrugs, and keeps fiddling with the lacing on your top.

“Bathroom,” he explains. Wow. So convincing. Sure enough.

“Jeongguk! Why are you in the kitchen?” calls Namjoon. “I thought you needed the bathroom urgently.” Obviously he knows exactly what’s going on, but he’s used to keeping up appearances for everyone’s benefit and this is no exception. You hear footsteps approaching which finally makes Jeongguk give a start and bolt towards the bathroom. You allow yourself a moment of guilt realising he’s going to have a bit of trouble in there, but you figure he got himself into that mess exacerbating the problem like this. Mai enters the kitchen, looking bemused and very suspicious, under the guise of asking if she can help bring the dessert things into the other room.

“You gonna tell me what’s really going on around here?” she asks. “Yoongi-oppa says all he knows is he never got his green tea this afternoon,” she jokes. Oh shit. You rummage around in the emergency stash cupboard and hand her a box of green tea. She thanks you, but continues to await an answer as you get the dessert onto trays together. “Come on, I tell you stuff,” she bargains. “I feel out of the loop, not living here.”

“Joa, joa. I sorta…hooked up with Jeongguk just before you arrived,” you admit. She looks amused. “It was his idea!” you defend yourself, lamely.

“Well I’m hardly shocked,” she admits. “The way you two look at each other is bordering on indecent sometimes.”

“Mwo?!” You’re genuinely taken aback. She laughs softly at your surprised face.

“He literally bit his knuckles when he watched you leave the room just before, girl. He’s hardly subtle. And I know you too well for you to be hiding it when you find someone attractive.”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “Anyway, it was just a one off-thing so let’s move on, shall we?” She looks skeptical but nods as she picks up two of the trays.

“Let’s talk after dessert,” she suggests, correctly surmising the boys will have gotten way too impatient not to interrupt soon.

“Geurosijyo,” you agree. “Is everything okay though?” you check. She nods and leads the way out.

“Stay for the movies, jagiya,” Yoongi insists to his girl, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her onto his knee. She gives Namjoon an apologetic look before settling into his lap. He cuddles her greedily to him and Namjoon just closes his eyes and sighs, probably wondering what ever happened to “discreet” in this household. Hoseok stumbles into the room carrying what looks to be half of the entire apartment’s bedding. He flings it into the middle of the floor and collapses melodramatically on top of it with a mock-plaintive wail of effort. V, Jimin and Jeongguk immediately start flinging pillows around the room with whoops of joy. Namjoon looks done with all of you. Until Jin wanders innocently in with three bowls of popcorn, notices Namjoon’s exasperation and barks at the maknae line to calm the hell down, which they willingly do, when they notice the popcorn.

“Gomawo, hyung,” Namjoon acknowledges Jin’s assistance. “Now what’s our theme for the movie night?” There is a general consensus on Japanese thrillers and you all make yourselves comfortable on the couches and beanbags while Jin turns the lights down and pulls up the first choice. Noticing Yoongi and Mai have gotten quite cozy on their private armchair island, Jeongguk darts a look at Namjoon then slips off the couch to land next to you on the floor. Quick as a flash, he’s got his arms around you, under cover of the blankets and snuggles up close against you where nobody can see what he’s up to. You have to concentrate to not make a sound, as he carefully slides a hand up your leg, under your skirt. You put a hand out to prevent him, shaking your head at him in warning as you pull your skirt back down over your leg. But you do slip your arms around him to pull him closer, enjoying the slightly illicit thrill of his warm body against yours.

Eventually the movie comes to an end and you hurriedly dislocate yourselves from your mutual embrace as the credits roll. You stand up to add credence to your subterfuge, check who’s still awake and clear up the popcorn bowls.

“Mian, guys, I think I’m going to turn in,” you announce on your return. Only the younger ones and J-Hope express any desire to continue their marathon, so the rest of you depart for your various bedrooms. Namjoon asks if Mai needs a taxi and gives Yoongi a pleading look, but Yoongi just gives him a cheeky wink and shepherds Mai into his room. So you foolishly assume that’s the end of all this, until you hear a tap on your door and see it slide open to let Jeongguk slip inside. He pads across to your bed and slips in beside you, barefoot but still in the slashed levis and long-sleeved t-shirt he changed into after dinner.

“Oh my God Kook, what the hell are you thinking?!” you hiss.

“This is way safer than my room cos, well, nobody’s gonna dare check your room, right?” he defends himself.

If you let him seduce you again without questioning it If you at least try to resist him

Glossary: (feel free to submit corrections for these ^.^ I have not translated thanks (gomawo), sorry (mian), what? (mwo), or noona, hyung, jagiya, maknae, babo, ssibal etc as I am assuming these are more common knowledge)

Andwaeyo (안돼요) No/it's not allowed

Algesseo (알겠어) Alright/okay

Hago sipo…(하고 싶어) I want…

Norang jago sipo (너랑 자고 싶어) I want to sleep with you

Gugang sanggyo (구강 성교) “blow job”/oral sex

Geuman (그만) Stop it/quit it

Nappeun, nappeun sonyon (나쁜 나쁜 소년) Bad, bad boy

Johwomyon (좋워면) If you like/want…

Amugotdo (아무것도) Nothing/it’s nothing

Ije geumanhae (이제 그만해) Stop it!/Quit it!/Lay off

Jogot johahaeyo (저것 좋아해요) Do you like that?

Namu joheun (너무좋은) Too good/amazing

Kiseuhaeyo (키스해요) Kiss me!

Momchwo (멈춰) Stop/wait

Jaji (자지) slang for dick

Dangsin masi johda (당신 맛이 좋다) You taste good

Joha, joha (좋아, 좋아) Okay, okay…

Geurosijyo (그러시죠) Sure/okay

[vyther16]

Breathe

whumptober 2020; day 13: breathe in, breathe out

glossary, with definitions to the best of my non-chinese understanding. tangjie - older female cousin on dad's side xiaojie - lady, lit little big sister gongzi - young master xiao - little

a/n

I recommend reading the work this is inspired by, "Why need we stay together day and night" by the lovely JianghuChild on Ao3. It has Shen-xiaojie being a soft-hearted badass and still getting to be in love with Yan Bingyun. If you have no patience for that, then all you need to know is Shen-xiaojie is pretending to be a cousin of the Fan sibs (Fan Sisi is her name), the entire capital thinks yby killed Fan Xian in a trauma-induced breakdown, and Fan Ruoruo started a spy ring of all the ladies in the capital to take down corrupt and womanizing officials and protect all the women in the capital.

this is not a fully fleshed out idea yet; it is a single scene that i wrote for this prompt, and that has a full au surrounding it that only i know right now. it will be expanded on eventually. maybe around thanksgiving, when I have less school to deal with. 

Shen-xiaojie’s name is Shen Wan’er, in accordance with the novel (that I haven’t read lol)

~start~

Yan Bingyun stares at the inconspicuous note folded in his newly washed robes. There is no sender on the outside. 

He remembers Shen--Fan Sisi’s note, the only contact he’s had with her since that night. It had appeared in the same way, and Yan Bingyun has an idea of how they have managed to pass by his extensive protections. He considers dismissing his maids and hiring a whole new household, but that would require too much explanation, and far too much time besides.

True to her word, Fan Sisi has not contacted him since that afternoon two months ago. He’s seen her with Fan Ruoruo and sometimes Fan Sizhe. She’s visited Lin Wan’er and Ye Ling’er often, and she has tea with a collection of high society women every week. She’s done well for herself, here in DaQing. He smothers the small spark of pride he feels at that, because she isn’t his, was never going to be his, and he can afford even less with her than he can with even a courtesan.

Not, that is, that he would ever want a courtesan, even if his traitorous heart didn’t belong to one woman alone.

He brushes his fingers over the note, feeling the quality of the paper. It’s the same stock as the note from Fan Sisi, all those months ago. He unfolds it slowly.

The characters are small and neat, lacking the small flair Fan Sisi always puts on the last stroke. He doesn’t recognize them.

He reads the note.

Meet me at the westernmost bridge tomorrow at dusk. If you do not, your monthly trips out of the city will not remain secret much longer.

Yan Bingyun’s breath catches in his throat. Someone knows .

--

“Gongzi, ” the hooded figure greets.

Yan Bingyun inclines his head, keeping his hands out in the open. He has an idea of who sent him the note, but that just makes him more aware of the dangers. The daggers in his sleeves and boot are a small comfort, the steel warmed by close proximity to his skin. The blood from the tiny knicks left behind by the unsheathed blades is difficult to see on the black robes he has taken to wearing, which is fortunate.

He has had rather enough of white robes to last him a lifetime.

The figure draws back her hood.

“ Xiaojie, ” Yan Bingyun says.

Fan Ruoruo smiles, a dangerous thing that hides itself behind dainty gestures and even daintier words.

“Why have you called me? They say I killed your brother.” He knows he didn't kill Fan Xian, but Fan Ruoruo has no reason to know that.

“Yet you disappear every month like clockwork, to a secluded cabin in the woods nearby. A cabin where you sometimes meet with Beiqi’s Shengnu. A cabin where you’re keeping my brother.”

Yan Bingyun’s breath stutters. He lets his dagger slip out of his sleeve.

“ Xiao- Yan- gongzi, the only reason I haven’t turned you in yet is because tangjie vouched for you. But tangjie has gone missing.”

Yan Bingyun staggers back.

They know about Fan Xian. Shen Wan'er is missing. Haitang Duoduo has been seen. Fan Xian is in danger again. Shen Wan'er has vanished. Haitang will be caught as a traitor. Fan Xian might be killed for real this time. Shen Wan'er has been discovered. Haitang will be killed.

Yan Bingyun breathes out, a shuddering sound that grates on his ears for the weakness it reveals.

Then he lurches forward, pressing his dagger to Fan Ruoruo’s throat. “You can’t tell anyone he’s alive. You can’t. The Second Prince will kill more than just Fan Xian if our deception is found out.”

“The Second Prince?” Fan Ruoruo chokes out, pushing futilely against Yan Bingyun’s weight.

Yan Bingyun steps back, hands shaking. There’s a thin line of blood on Fan Ruoruo’s neck. “Of course. He’s the one who asked me to kill Fan Xian.” He hesitates, then adds, “And the one who threatened Fan Sizhe as well.”

Fan Ruoruo’s eyes go wide. “That’s why he welcomed you back so quickly. We wondered.”

“Does anyone else know about Fan Xian?” Yan Bingyun gets out. His breathing is too fast, the way it gets sometimes. He rubs his thumb along the hilt of his dagger. Forward, breathe in. Back, breathe out. Repeat. Breathe in, forward. Breathe out, backwards.

“Only my people,” Fan Ruoruo says.

Forward, breathe in. “Who are your people?” Back, breathe out. Fan Ruoruo wouldn’t jeopardize her brother’s safety. Fan Xian is safe for now.

“Shadows.” Fan Ruoruo smiles, knife-sharp.

“They won’t tell the royal family? Or the director?” He presses. Forward, breathe in.

“The royal family and the director are terrified of us. But they don’t know who we are.”

Back, breathe out. Yan Bingyun pushes past the bone-deep terror for Fan Xian, for Shen Wan'er, for even Haitang Duoduo.

“The spy ring. The one that topples corrupt officials. You’re the ringleader?”

Fan Ruoruo’s grin widens. “Very good, Yan Bingyun. How very clever of you.” He's reminded starkly of Fan Xian, in the hours after his rescue, praising him for putting together dots a child could connect.

“If you can find all those things about the ministers, why do you need my help?” Forward, breathe in.

“Shen Wan'er is missing. She was taken from her room two days ago, and we have not seen her since. My people have looked, but we cannot find her. You have the unique privilege of being both Overwatch Council and someone we are willing to deal with, if absolutely necessary.”

Back, breathe out. “Shen- xiaojie made it quite clear how she felt about me the last time we saw each other,” Yan Bingyun says, squashing the emotions that claw their way up his throat at the thought of Shen Wan'er.

“Tangjie is a fugitive from Beiqi. You know this as well as I do. I fear the Overwatch Council has found out. They won’t care that she is merely the younger sister of a disgraced and dead lord, who doesn’t know any state secrets.”

Yan Bingyun knows what the Overwatch Council will do to her in hopes of getting information. He rubs his thumb over the hilt of his dagger again. "Do you have a plan?"

Fan Ruoruo draws her hood back up, hiding her face in shadows. "Of course."

~fin~

a/n

recall, if you will, that this is merely a scene from an unpublished au. do not at me about things that are not canon compliant or about ooc-ness, bc there are things that happen to these characters to make every action they take mostly in character. I will add a chapter to this directing to the finished fic this is from when I eventually finish writing it, but that probably won't be until late next month at the earliest. it will probably be around thanksgiving and/or christmas, when I have breaks from school

i didn't bother with a fancy title for this one, since it's not a fully fleshed out scene or idea, soooooooooo..............

ao3 link in the reblog to my main; reblogs>likes

[thesunandseonghwa]

Shadows and Angels | Part Two

chan x reader / changbin x reader

warnings: none

some more angst but a little bitty bit of fluff towards the end !

see here for glossary of terms used

masterlist

You were always one of those people that prided themselves on planning things out thoroughly but now you had no idea what was going on anymore in your life. First: you had been drugged and almost kidnapped, then you saw said kidnappers run away at a speed that seemed impossible. Not to mention the two unnaturally beautiful boys both armed with glowing swords who saved your life.

Then said boys killed your best friend who wasn't actually your best friend but some kind of shape-shifting monster and now you were alone in this town you barely knew and you were just a broke college student with no family.

Great.

"We're here," The blonde -Chan stated, you gratefully handed him back his black leather jacket which he had given you to cover your legs so that you were more comfortable sitting in your short dress.

"Where exactly is here-" You cut yourself as you gazed up at the large building in front of you, it almost resembled one of those old church buildings but much larger. It had a strange symbol on the huge front door, the same symbol you had noted was deeply set in black on Chan's forearm, "What is this place?"

"It's the Seoul Institute," Chan said with a smile on his face as he pushed the huge door open.

You followed him inside, you were aware of the other boy -Changbin following closely behind you. You didn't know what to make of him just yet, he didn't seem to like you much. You tried not to gawk too much at everything as you stepped inside. Other similarly dressed people guarded the door, black marks covering their arms, hands and even necks like Chan and Changbin.

Just then another boy turned the corner, he was clad in, unlike the rest who were in full black and what looked like combat gear, He was dressed in a casual white t-shirt, grey sweatpants and his hair tousled as if he had just woken up. He smiled as he saw the other two boys, greeting them both with a hug.

"Hey Felix, could you get Jihyo for me? I've got to introduce someone to her," Chan said,

"I suppose you mean this girl?" Felix gestured toward you, his voice was surprisingly deep when you took into account the youthfulness of his face.

Then again, you just saw your best and only friend turn into some demonic thing, so you really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore.

"This girl has a name," You said, meeting Felix's eyes, "I'm Y/N,"

Felix held out a hand for you to shake, "Nice to meet you, Y/N,"

"Delighted," You said, forcing some semblance of a smile.

"Jihyo just portaled to Idris*, Council* meeting so you've got the next best thing," A third voice chimed in, this one decidedly female.

Said female had short brown hair, half of it was tied up and the rest fell in a gentle swoop just barely grazing her shoulders. She was also decked out in all black like the rest of them but she somehow managed to make the simple all black outfit look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. Those dark marks covering the skin you could see, she smiled at the boys before her eyes landed on you and you suddenly felt awfully embarrassed. Your hair was a mess and you were most likely covered in a fine layer of dirt from taking a drugged nap on the sidewalk. You were pretty sure your dress looked like it had been dragged across the floor as well

which it had been actually.

"Has no one offered you a bath and some fresh clothes?" The girl punched Chan in the shoulder playfully, Chan feigning being offended at the action, "I'm Nayeon, I suppose you have lots of questions but I think we should get you cleaned up first, huh?"

"So we're just letting a mundane into the Institute, no questions asked?" Changbin suddenly intervened, he looked at you like you were the enemy but you didn't even know who you were anymore so how were you supposed to know if you were even their enemy?

"If she was just any mundane, she wouldn't have been able to even see the Institute even a mundane with the sight wouldn't be able do that, the Institute is warded," Nayeon looked to you again.

She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, "Chan, I've got to meet up with Jihyo, get this girl a shower and some clean clothes please?"

Without much other choice and honestly you really wanted to get out of this dress that was splattered with who knows what. You followed Chan up the stairs to what to you looked like a long hallway of bedrooms. It almost reminded you of your old high school hostel. There were portraits of people lining the walls, all also covered with those black marks everyone had.

You were amazed at all that you were seeing but still beyond confused, you stopped, dead in your tracks, in the hallway, "This is all very nice of you people but I think I deserve an explanation now, you promised me an explanation, Chan,"

"Okay, I can't explain everything in a matter of minutes but here's a quick summary, demons exist you saw that so do vampires, werewolves, warlocks we call them downworlders, all the stories are true," Chan said, turning to finally face you.

He leaned against the doorway of an open room before he spoke again, you tried to ignore the way the muscles in his arms shifted. A man built like that had no business wearing sleeveless shirts, you snapped yourself of your trance. He had just told you vampires were real and here you were ogling his arms.

Wow. That sounds pathetic.

In all honesty, you weren't very surprised. Now it felt like everything finally made sense, the things you saw in the corner of your eye your entire life.

"But what are you guys actually, you called yourself a demon hunter or something?" You asked, looking down at your clasped hands in front of you.

You hated feeling or looking weak and right now you felt pathetic, you had been thrust into a world you knew nothing of.

"We're shadowhunters, people with angel blood. We hunt demons, protect the greater good, try and maintain balance between the shadow world and well the world you know and love," Chan said nonchalantly as if he was just stating the weather outside, "It's the angel blood that makes us all so... alluring,"

You chose to ignore his comment on angel blood, "But what am I..."

You muttered under your breath. What were you? Who were you? Were you really just another what had Changbin said, Mundane?

You felt grateful that Chan didn't hear your next question or if he did, he was pretending he didn't.

"That Changbin guy doesn't like me very much," You thought as he crossed your mind, his sharp jaw, dark hair and of course, his moody attitude.

"Changbin doesn't like anyone, don't take it personally," Chan replied, laughing. He had dimples when smiled, his eyes creasing into little half moons.

"If you guys are shadowhunters and my best friend was a demon then where am I supposed to fit in here?" You asked, tentatively. If you were honest, you were afraid of the answer.

Chan seemed to mull over his words for a few minutes before he spoke, gesturing for you to enter the bedroom, "I don't know, you have the sight, you could see the Institute, you may very well be a shadowhunter like us but there's also a chance you just have the sight,"

"The sight?" You asked as you looked around the room, it was simply decorated. Four poster bed, bedside table, closet in the corner, a door that looked like it led to a bathroom.

"It just means you're able to see the world as it is, the way we see it," Chan explained, just as he was about to speak again. Changbin arrived at the door, holding a small bundle of clothes.

"Not very well, considering the girl was best friends with a shape-shifting demon and didn't even know," Changbin voice was monotone, almost bored sounding as he spoke to Chan.

He didn't even spare you a glance, "Nayeon told me to bring this up to the mundane before she left, she said they should fit,"

You gratefully took the bundle of clothes from Changbin's hands, "Would you stop calling me that? I have a name,"

What did this guy have against you?

"Then what are you?" Changbin asked, you very much wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, "You don't know right? So, how do we know you're not just a mundane or a threat to everyone here?"

"Bin, serious-" Chan begin but couldn't finish,

This Changbin was annoying you and it felt like he was doing it on purpose.

You clenched your firsts at your sides and the words came tumbling out of you much louder than you had anticipated, "I would never hurt anyone, I just saw my best and only friend since I moved here turn into some monster, was drugged and almost kidnapped and then brought here by some guys with tattoos and glowing swords and now I don't even know what I am anymore so I don't know maybe give me a goddamn break?"

It was then you realised that you were crying, tears blurring your vision. You hadn't cried in forever, you turned your back to the two of them, wiping at the wetness on your cheeks.

"Changbin go, you've done enough," You heard Chan whisper, you heard his footsteps come nearer to you. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder, you couldn't see his face as you were turned away from him, "I'm sorry about Changbin, he won't admit it but he probably feels terrible about making you cry,"

You turned to face him, you felt his proximity, you could count his eyelashes from here. You surprised yourself by wrapping you arms around his waist, a simple hug of gratitude "Thank you for you know everything, you've been quite nice to me, a total stranger," Chan smiled at your words as he rubbed your back soothingly.

"It's no biggie, my room is down the hall, last door on your left if you need anything, I think I should leave you to well process everything, maybe get some shut-eye," Chan cleared his throat, backing away from you as if he only now realized how close you two had been, "Uh, goodnight then I guess?"

"Goodnight," And you genuinely smiled this time as you watched Chan walk away, his blonde head of hair disappearing as he closed the door behind him. 

Somehow you felt like you'd be alright. Especially with someone like Chan there for you.

[comelylust]

Miguel Rojo x Reader “Purple Night”

Is there anything Miguel hates more than Jin Kazama? That someone could see through him, that there is a person who reads him like an open book, the single idea of loving someone made him shudder.  

For him, these things do not exist even though he was previously in love, being cheesy and romantic is not in his glossary and has taken root in his mind as a kind of mantra "I don't need anyone to get in my way" Miguel always grumbled away from people who can trigger these emotions.

Or so he thought until he met you, he didn't understand why every time you passed near him he kept looking at you and when he saw you redirecting his gaze he felt that his world was becoming small, for the first time his mind was blank. Why not just ignore you? He tried that a handful of times, without success. He built a wall between his heart and yours deciding that the best way is for you to walk away first.

Despite the measures taken, he always returned to you, "I'm acting like an idiot" he thought, but every time you smile at him he forgets how to breathe, every time you look into his eyes he feels exposed, and every time you touch your body you lift him to the sky. He falls into the palm of your hand and struggles to get out.

 "What do you want from me?”He asks furiously, at such a comment all you did was blink and you didn't hold back your laughter, so there you were laughing while holding your abdomen, Miguel was furious, not with you, but with the fact that his feelings clouded his reasoning, He wants a solution to your spell, but it's clear that it doesn't work that way "I don't want anything, on this purple night I want to hold your hand and not let you go" You look at the sky that was fading between pastel and cold colors, it seemed like a perfect night, but Miguel was even more dazed.

Without explanation he got up from the bench and ran away like a coward, leaving you there with a confused look on your face and believing you had said something wrong.

The weeks passed and Miguel kept ignoring you, he hid from you every time you were near him, his behavior is best described as an immature loser, instead, you didn't care about him you know him better than anyone and you know that he has opened up to you in a roundabout way

"Even if you open your eyes and everything is gone or a disaster, I will still be waiting for you every night" You sent him a text message, honestly you don't wait for him to call you back, you just wanted to make it clear to him that you care but at the same time tell him to take his time to clear his head.

One night as you were coming home from work you saw the man you love on your front porch, beaten and bleeding, his clothes a mess. Worried that he was seriously injured, you ran quickly to his side, holding him as if your life depended on it.

"Don't look at me like that," says Miguel with a broken heart when he sees your face full of anxiety. Without answering, you open the door of your house and sit him on your little couch. You quickly go to the first aid kit and rummage through it to get some antiseptic and some gauze.

 "Take off your clothes" You mumble indifferently, "I thought we wouldn't do that tonight" Miguel with difficulty takes off his clothes instead you cross your arms "Are you drunk?" You started to clean their wounds, pushing them as a form of revenge for their behavior.

Instead, Miguel removed the gauze from your hand "I haven't drunk, but I'm drunk" Bring your hand towards his cheek making circular movements to feel your touch

"I feel dizzy." He claims.

Miguel gets up from the sofa without leaving your hand and you stand firm "Hit me if it makes you feel better, I deserve it" He affirms putting himself at your level "This is frustrating isn't it" He lets out a heavy sigh, getting up the courage to continue talking "You won't hug me or kiss me" Without waiting for an answer from you Miguel plants a hungry kiss on your lips, in it he contains all his desires and feelings, feelings that are waiting to be reciprocated

When they finally parted panting Miguel speaks "I always hope that this is a dream, but it is inevitable, you always appear in them" He pauses placing his hand on your head and approaching his chest.

"I'm serious, on this purple night let's do whatever you think, I don't care, I just know I'll remember it forever"

  Hi, buddy, I hope you are well, I am practicing my romantic writing, it is something meh but I hope you like it.

I was inspired by Sunmi's song, I sincerely see Miguel as a cold and distant person, but when he falls in love, he falls deeply in love

[perfeggso]

Noir (yutae)

Week II pt. 1

Tokyo – fall of 1983: Nakamoto Yuta is quickly rising in the ranks of one of Japan’s most notorious yakuza families, and he’s poised to climb even further if he can stop himself from being ruined by the pretty Korean boy who’s shown up out of nowhere.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3  |  Chapter 4  |  Chapter 5  |  Chapter 6  |  Chapter 7  |  Chapter 8  | Masterlist 

Glossary of Japanese words

Characters: Yuta x Taeyong + NCT ensemble, Twice J-line (for funsies) 

Genres: Gang!AU, angst, smut, fluff, 1980s!AU

Warnings: graphic violence, swearing, minor character death, alcohol use, mentions of drugs, period-typical homophobia, xenophobia, BDSM

Rating: 18+

Length: 4.5k (will progressively get way longer)

A “foot soldier,” as it turned out, was the smallest of small fry in the syndicate.  They were mostly responsible for manning the many front businesses that Inagawa used for small change, low-level intimidation, and charity work.  Taeyong found that he did get to carry a revolver around with him but was forbidden from using it in non-life-threatening situations because he had only been a yakuza for about a week and had only gotten the opportunity to practice firing the thing twice.  This was both for his own protection and for the protection of the gang; almost nothing could have been more damaging than the misfiring of an illegal gun by a rookie.

All Taeyong had needed to do to leave his mechanic job was to submit a letter of resignation, which in honesty was the most obvious solution.  People were allowed to resign without a specific reason – his boss didn’t own his soul.  And Taeyong wasn’t too sad to leave since he hadn’t been close to anyone working there.

After a week, Taeyong found himself leaning over a yellow plastic desk at the entrance to a miscellaneous electronics shop in Akihabara, bored to death and resigned to people-watching.  Taeyong usually avoided Akihabara because he wasn’t particularly interested in electronics nor in otaku culture.  More than that, he hated how the few times he had come to the neighborhood in the evening he’d been approached by creepy middle-ages men trying to entice him to go “chat” with some “lovely young ladies.”

But now he was here among the neon lights with nothing more to do with himself but try to look inviting to customers.  If he was being honest, part of him wanted to sabotage the whole racket by looking purposefully glum and driving people away.  Despite his sweet face, Taeyong did have an aggressive streak in him but he always considered himself principled about those who got hit by it.  For instance, swindling major corporations out of millions of yen, as he was vaguely aware that Inagawa did, seemed perfectly ethical to him.  Selling faulty electronics to innocent working-class people on the other hand…

“Taeyong!” Mark yelled from behind him, forcing him out of his contemplative rabbit hole of Robin Hood ethics.

Taeyong turned around to see Mark walking up to him, a stack of colorful business cards in one hand and a badminton racket and shuttlecock in the other.  What a fuckin’ weirdo , thought Taeyong, although he couldn’t help but like the guy.

Mark had been the first person Taeyong had spoken to as an unofficial member, he supposed, of the Inagawa-kai, as he was the one responsible for escorting Taeyong back to his apartment and spending the night there to ensure that he did not try to run away or go to the authorities.  Taeyong didn’t sleep that night because his head was full of too many questions, and Mark wasn’t allowed to, so the two instead got to talking – as much as they could given the supreme awkwardness of the situation, anyway.        

“What do you need?” Taeyong asked and in response, Mark passed him the stack of cards as if that were an explanation.  Before he got around to illustrating his intentions with words, he began bouncing the shuttlecock against his racket, twisting the string bed 180 degrees between each contact.

“I need you to stand on the sidewalk and hand these out to people,” he finally said, still focused on his game. “They say we’re having a promotional sale.  It’s supposed to drum up more business which we can handle with the three of us here instead of two.  But for this to work, you need to stop scowling.  Show off that charming smile of yours.”

Mark was sure a cheeky bugger.  If Taeyong did stick around in this gang, he’d eventually use his age advantage to mess with the kid once their gap in experience wasn’t so large.

“Was this your idea?” Taeyong asked.

Mark shook his head no, pausing his game of hand-eye coordination.  “It was our Shategashira ’s.”  

“Nakamoto?”

“Hasn’t he told you to use his title?  Or just Yuta if you want to use his name.”

Taeyong huffed a sigh.  This ‘ Shategashira ’ of his had really become an exasperating figure in his life over the past week.  They’d barely interacted, but the coolness and ease with which Yuta always addressed him made him feel funny; as if he truly had no control over the trajectory of his life anymore simply because he was dumb enough to follow some sounds in an alley.  But who was he kidding?  His life might as well lead him to being in a gang.  Wasn’t that what he’d always wanted?  And anyway, there was a reason the Inagawa-kai had an entire Korean division and some Korean leadership.  Taeyong had just imagined more bombastic motorcycle rides and fewer junk computers.

“Yeah I remember now,” Taeyong said, shuffling the business cards in his hands and making his way out from behind his desk.  “So how do I get people to take these?”

Mark walked with him to the front of the shop, his hand on the older man’s shoulder.  “Just smile and say ‘promotional sale: premium consumer electronics.  This week only,' or some shit and try to get these into the hands of everyone who walks near you.  I think you can handle it.”

“I will try,” said Taeyong.

He found it was easier to get people to take the cards than he had expected, although his success didn’t seem to go further than that, as most people who took a card only regarded Taeyong with a confused scowl once they had it in their hands.  After about an hour, a woman came walking towards Taeyong on his side of the street, and she was truly the first person Taeyong fully noticed his whole shift.  He noticed her because no one could have not: she was slightly taller than average, especially in heels, with long black hair blown out, a green bodycon dress, black heels, and a gold chain necklace.  Taeyong thought she might have the prettiest face he’d ever seen on a woman.  He also noticed her because she was staring right at him as she approached.  Taeyong wasn’t fazed because he was used to nice looking girls coming onto him.  They would inevitably be put off either by his ethnicity or by his lack of interest in them – whichever they perceived first – and then bad things would happen.  However, the intensity in this woman’s gaze felt different as she came to stand just a few feet away.

“Momo-hime??” Taeyong heard Mark yell from somewhere within the store.  Huh?   Soon enough both he and Jungwoo had emerged and were greeting the gorgeous young woman.  Taeyong stayed frozen to his post because he didn’t know what to make of the situation nor of his role in it.  She was a ‘princess’ anyway.  What business did a street rat have introducing himself to her?

Soon, though, Taeyong found he didn’t have to.  She exchanged a few words with his coworkers, and they nodded, pointing her his way.

“Lee Taeyong,” said the woman, bowing once she had finally gotten close enough to greet him.  “I’m Hirai Momo.  It’s good to meet you.  Yuta told me you had been brought on.”

Taeyong was so confused he felt like he was floating, but he bowed back despite himself.  “Nice to meet you too.”  The name Hirai sounded familiar but Taeyong took a moment to place it.  Then, like being slapped in the face, his brain found the missing puzzle piece that allowed him to make an association.  The Hirai family ran the entire operation, didn’t they?  Shit .            

“Why are you here, Neechan ?” asked Jungwoo.

Momo smiled.  “Yuta sent me to retrieve you, Taeyong,” she answered, causing Mark and Jungwoo to raise their eyebrows in unison.

Taeyong could feel the blood rush through his veins, and it felt cold.  “I – did I do something?”

“Don’t worry,” Momo assured.  “Everything’s alright.  Yuta-san just wants to make sure you’re adjusting alright and to have you get some more target practice in with your new piece.  How does that sound?”

Yuta was turning out to be the most involved boss Taeyong had ever had.  He still had no idea what was going on, but at least he wasn’t in trouble and if he was being honest, he liked firing the gun and looked forward to another sanctioned opportunity.  Taeyong chided himself as he noticed a piece of his mind wondering churlishly what this girl was to Yuta.  That doesn’t pertain to you , he told himself.  

“That’s fine,” he said.

“Great,” said Momo, winking like a girl from an animated television show or something.  “So, you’ll go to headquarters and meet him right after your shift, got it?”

Got it.

***

The Inagawa-kai Tokyo headquarters was located in a simple, box-shaped black building on the edge of Aoyama.  It wasn’t a short structure – it had about seven stories – but compared to much of Tokyo’s architecture it remained strategically unassuming.  Once inside the building, a tall man with dark hair and a patchwork of tattoos and scars across his exposed skin approached Taeyong and told him he would escort him to the meeting.  At first Taeyong didn’t recognize him because he hadn’t gotten a good look the first time, but he soon realized that his companion was one of the men who had essentially arrested him a week ago, a fact which made his throat tighten.  Taeyong also cautiously noted that the man had a fresh stump of a pinky finger on his right hand covered in bandages.  Must have gotten in a bad fight.

The man led Taeyong down a series of identical concrete hallways until they reached a sliding door made of oak, at which point he left Taeyong to enter the room by himself.  Taeyong hesitated for a moment but was stunned into action when he heard Yuta’s expressive voice anticipate his presence from inside with the simple utterance of two syllables.

“ Douzo .”

Within, Yuta sat at the same desk where Taeyong had first met him, surrounded by expensive Scandinavian furnishings, walls of glass and concrete, and a pristine bonsai tree on a ledge behind him.  Yuta himself wore black pants, a silk shirt, and a yellow velvet smoking jacket of all things.  Taeyong felt something twist in his gut at the sight of him and his intent gaze but decided to file the feeling away somewhere very deep for the purposes of later contemplation.

“ Shategashira !” Taeyong greeted with a salute, as he was now pretty sure he was expected to.  “Would you like me to sit, sir?”

“At ease,” said Yuta, waving him off and letting Taeyong relax a bit.  “No need.  I’ll accompany you to the range right now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, Shategashira .”

And with that, Taeyong let himself be led back under the florescent lights of the complex’s maze-like hallways.

“How are you adjusting, Taeyong?” asked Yuta.

Taeyong was constantly surprised that the couple times he had seen Yuta since their initial meeting, he always made sure to check up on him.  He didn’t know what to make of this.  He guessed it was just standard practice – a measure to make him feel protected and ensure his devotion, or something of the sort.

“It’s alright, I guess,” Taeyong responded.  “I like Mark and Jungwoo.  Johnny seems like a good guy too.  In all honesty, I don’t have a lot to do right now.  But I do appreciate having the position at all!”  Taeyong’s tone was absolutely all over the place, not knowing where to stand between familiar and deferent.  Taeyong thought he saw his little speech provoke a smile in Yuta, and suddenly that knot in his stomach was back.  Well, fuck.

Yuta spoke.  “I acknowledge that you don’t have the most exciting posting.  But that’s partially why I wished to speak with you today.  After you.”

Yuta left that tease there.  They had come to the end of a hallway to an orange door with chipping paint and a black symbol indicating that protective equipment for eyes and ears was recommended inside.  Yuta held it open and Taeyong passed through.

Once in the vestibule of the shooting range, Taeyong set himself up where he was supposed to stand and aimed his revolver at the target on the other end of the room as Yuta leaned against an acid-white wall with his arms crossed and his chin raised slightly.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yuta said, and Taeyong cleared his throat, shimmying his shoulders lower on his back in response.  He took a deep breath and focused on the red bull’s eye placed on the heart of a human-shaped target, both hands on the gun.  He had to refrain from grinding his teeth.

“Wait until you’re ready,” Yuta coached, voice low and commanding, “then focus your energy and count down from three before you pull the trigger.  Simple as that.”

“Yes, Shategashira .” Taeyong did as he was told, steadying himself, focusing his eyes on his target, and counting 3…2…1… BANG!

Taeyong felt himself sway backwards for a moment after firing but regained his balance quickly – something he had not done the first time he had shot the thing.  That time, he ended up on his butt, confused and embarrassed as Mark thrashed around on the wall in a fit of performative laughter.  The practice he’d had since then had helped, but so did the pressure of Yuta’s gaze.

After a moment, Taeyong heard clapping coming from next to him and he realized he had been closing his eyes.  When he opened them, he saw that a chunk of the wooden target was missing on its inner thigh.

“We can work with that,” Yuta remarked, finishing his short round of applause.  “Certainly enough to cripple, and that’s important.  However, I get the sense you weren’t aiming there, hm?”

Taeyong’s breathing fumbled when Yuta began to stalk towards him.  “What we need is to teach you some precision and confidence,” he explained. “We’ve got to work on your kill shot.  Do you mind?”

Yuta was asking for the gun, so Taeyong handed it over with an “of course, Shategashira .”        

Yuta took a sideways stance, holding the revolver out with one arm, and proceeded to shoot five times in fast succession, obliterating the plywood head of the target cutout until it was nothing more than splinters.  Taeyong did not care to imagine it as belonging to a real human.  When he had finished, Yuta turned to regard Taeyong, and to Taeyong’s surprise and horror, he broke out into a wide grin.  God , thought Taeyong, I’m alone with a psychopath and a gun .  Although, once that thought had passed, Taeyong couldn’t help admiring the princely charm of the way the smile had spread like a sunrise over Yuta’s face.  What the fuck was going on?  

“You see?” said Yuta, ebullient, “you’ll be doing that soon enough.”

Soon enough .  Right, Taeyong would need to sort out his future, and soon.

“Let’s try again.  Go back to your stance.  We’re going to stay with two hands for now.”

Taeyong took the gun back and repositioned himself in his starting position, holding the weapon with his outstretched arms and lining it up with his sternum.  Yuta came up beside him and held his hands over Taeyong’s shoulders.

“May I?” he asked, and Taeyong nodded, allowing Yuta to press down onto his shoulders and straighten his spine.  Taeyong could feel the other man’s breath and it was sending his nerves into a state he did not need them to be in, heat crawling up his neck.      

“Do the countdown again,” Yuta instructed, “deep breath, and then fire.  Don’t let your eyes close, alright?  And try to stay still as much as possible.  You can if you really engage your core.”

Taeyong nodded at all the advice and tried to follow it – attempting also to avoid noticing the watchful smile blooming on Yuta’s face in his peripheral vision.  He took in a deep breath of the room’s stale air and counted down again, eyes trained on the cutout’s heart and intent not to shut.

A BANG rang out once more throughout the vestibule.            

Taeyong did narrowly refrain from closing his eyes, but they seemed to have gone out of focus.  Once he blinked the fuzziness from them, as if erasing an etch-a-sketch, he could see that he’d succeeded in blowing a hole through his target’s crotch.

Yuta giggled and slapped Taeyong over his right shoulder.  Taeyong’s head spun.  Was he supposed to be scared of this literal mob boss or not?

“I have a hunch you weren’t aiming there either, huh?” Yuta asked, and Taeyong shook his head no.  “That’d definitely be an effective shot though, wouldn’t it?  Might actually be better than aiming for the heart in some situations because you can make them talk while they bleed out.”

Holy shit.   In an instant, Taeyong became painfully aware of his reality.  He was practicing shooting because he might be in a situation where he’d need to – where others would be aiming at him the same way he was aiming at this outline of a man.  What if it was him who got shot in the heart, or worse, shot in the dick and forced to bleed out horrifically?  Taeyong felt lightheaded but managed to squeeze enough air from his lungs to speak.

“Do you mind me asking you a question, if it’s not too forward?”

Yuta raised an eyebrow.  “Shoot,” he said, obviously amused by his own word play.

“Why am I here?” asked Taeyong.  “What am I doing here now?  What am I training for?”  That was three questions, but oh well.  Taeyong didn’t feel like being measured.

Yuta sighed and cocked his head, eyes fluttering to regard the floor.

“I had a feeling this would come up,” he said, smiling wryly this time.  “Keep practicing and I’ll fill you in.”

Taeyong nodded and prepared to shoot again, hitting the target’s left shoulder this time when he pulled the trigger.

“Getting closer to the heart,” Yuta observed, appreciative.  “You see, Taeyong, there are only two favorable outcomes for you now that this ball has gotten rolling.”  Taeyong relaxed his arms and watched Yuta begin to pace, his face steeled by caution.

“The first, which would be preferable to the family, is that you stay on with the Inagawa-kai and devote yourself to our line of work.  However, I understand that what has happened was not your choosing, and you may want to return to your normal life as soon as possible.  Whichever path you choose eventually matters little to what I need you to do for now, so don’t worry about it yet.” Yuta paused, giving Taeyong a moment to recover from the way his emotions had just gone topsy-turvy like his image in a funhouse mirror.  Then Yuta gestured towards the gun Taeyong was now pointing at the rubber floor.  “Please continue,” he said.  Taeyong hit the target in its stomach and caught a hum of approval from Yuta.    

“Either way,” Yuta went on, “you will need to establish trust here.  Even if you want to leave, you will have to stay on long enough and perform well enough to prove that we can trust you to be an ally even in the civilian world.  Does that make sense, Taeyong?”

Bang! Left hip.

“It does,” Taeyong replied, resigned.  This was all his own fault anyway.  He couldn’t help his curiosity though.  “Is this something that happens often?”

Yuta chuckled slightly.  Bang! Sternum.  Taeyong was quickly gaining enough balance and confidence to keep himself still while firing.

“Similar situations have occurred although we obviously try to avoid them.  For instance, the two men who brought you in to me have been duly reprimanded for their carelessness.”  

Taeyong was preparing to fire as Yuta said this and was immediately thrown off when his mind returned to the image of his abductor’s freshly severed finger, putting two and two together.  Is that what a mistake gets you here? Worse, did Yuta purposefully assign that guy to escort Taeyong as some kind of warning? Taeyong was already pressing down on the trigger when this thought came to him and it caused him to misfire wildly, hitting the wall on the other end of the range a few feet from the target.

“Fuck!”

“Do you need me to stop talking?” Yuta asked.

Taeyong held the gun in his left hand while shaking out the wrist of his right, as if the problem had been purely physiological.  “No!  Er – sorry, just give me a moment please, Shategashira .”

“That’s alright,” said Yuta.  “You’re doing pretty well for a beginner.  Take a break for a bit.”

Taeyong nodded, feeling defeated but somewhat relieved.    

“Similar situations,” he mused “Like what?  If you don’t mind telling me.”

“Take Jungwoo, for example.  He worked for a circuitry and computing firm that was under our thumb.  He knew nothing about it – he was simply a technician and didn’t have access to the books – but when the small company had defied our understanding with them one too many times, Jungwoo happened to be unlucky enough to witness the consequences.  We gave him the option to make it up to us by working for us.  It was difficult for him at first, but now his closest friends are in our ranks and he gets to do what he loves while never needing to worry about money.  So, it worked out in the end.”

Jungwoo, huh?   Taeyong had thought the guy seemed a bit too cheery to be a natural gangster.

“I see.  I don’t really have a thing though, that I love doing, you know?”

Yuta shrugged, then smiled in a way that was meant to be reassuring.

“Well, you may not love it, but you know about vehicle mechanics, right?  That will be useful to us.  However, to be honest I do feel for you, Taeyong, I really do.  You caught my attention immediately and have weighed on my conscience.  I want to help you make the best of this, and the best thing you can do now is quickly prove your loyalty both to me and to the people I work for.  That way, you will get the most flexibility in the least time.  That’s why I’m scheming to fast-track you to that point.”

Taeyong was mystified as to why his superior, who had implicitly threatened him into becoming a yakuza in the first place, was being so nice to him; so reasonable.

“What does that mean?” Taeyong asked, eyes going wide in anticipation.

Yuta leaned back against the wall and watched Taeyong from under his bangs.  “I’m in the middle of a project that it would be nice if someone helped me with.  It’s not inherently dangerous and it’ll give you a good idea of how we operate.  If you do a good job you will both understand the world you’re now living in and if you want to stay in it, and hopefully, gain enough trust to be allowed to make that decision when the time comes.”

Taeyong’s thumb skimmed nervously over the textured handle of his revolver, eyes searching the vestibule for some sense of reality.  He felt almost dizzy with exhilaration at the idea of helping Yuta out and spending more time with him - studying him.  “What’s the project?” he asked.

“An investigation.”

“An investigation…” Taeyong repeated.  What did he know about investigations?

“Yes,” said Yuta, “I’m gathering information on a certain executive at one of the nation’s largest companies.  For blackmailing purposes.”

Taeyong almost laughed at how upfront Yuta was about this.

“Okay…”

“Is that a yes?”

“Do I have a choice?” Asked Taeyong.  Yuta smiled, something almost predatory in his expression.  “What would I have to do?”

“Accompany me when I go out following leads, be my lookout and my sounding board for ideas when no one else is free to help.  You can be more involved depending on how well you do with that.  Think you can handle it?”

That didn’t sound too out of the box for things Taeyong could do.  Besides, Yuta had said “lookout” not “bodyguard” or something.  Taeyong was used to fighting, but his dustups were usually with hoodlums from Shin-Ōkubo, not with armed career criminals.

Taeyong nodded.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah I can.”

Yuta pushed himself off the wall.  “Perfect.  Before we finish here though, I’d like to get you to hit your target.”

The way Yuta said it so flatly made it clear to Taeyong that this was a command, not a suggestion.

“Yes, Shategashira .”      

“I think I know how to help,” said Yuta, “it’s something I used to do when practicing.  Do you have someone you want that to be?  Someone you hate so much it makes your toes curl?  Makes you want to smell their blood?”

Taeyong pictured the leader of the Specters – the boy who’d beaten him black and blue until he couldn’t hear or think; the boy who had only refrained from dragging Taeyong from a chain on the back of a car when he heard sirens coming for him, and all because Taeyong had dared to be zainichi .  Sure, Taeyong wouldn’t mind a little payback.  He nodded at Yuta, both men’s eyes going dark and focusing on the target.

“Good,” said Yuta, placing his hands on Taeyong’s shoulders and squeezing.  This time, Taeyong’s mind had gone too cold to let the contact affect him.  “Now, don’t let them get away with anything less than a bullet to the heart.”

With that, Yuta pushed away and Taeyong imagined his victim, ugly smug face and rising sun headband appearing in his mind’s eye with chilling detail.  Relax, breathe out, 3, 2, 1, BANG!

Taeyong was steady as the bullet passed an inch or so from the bullseye and the sight caused a great sense of relief to wash over him, like stepping into a hot tub on a snowy day.

When he turned around, Yuta was watching him with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest.

“When do I start, Shategashira ?” asked Taeyong.

Yuta’s smirk morphed into what Taeyong could only describe as a proud grin.  “You start now.”    

[carrigerpigeon]

[ID: The silhouette of a Victorian woman in a bustled dress holding a parasol. Underneath her in flowing script reads “The Parasol's Playbook.” Underneath in san serrif font it reads “A Parasol Protectorate Roleplay Game” and then "Draft  December 2019" in the footer.] 

Friends! Foes! Assorted Carriger Fans one and all. Might I present to you...the first fairly full draft of The Parasol’s Playbook, a tabletop roleplay game based on the work of New York Times Best Selling Author Gail Carriger.

We are currently soliciting test players for this game!

FAQ:

What is it?

What it says in the tin. Chiefly, a tabletop rpg based off the Apocalypse World/Monster of the Week style of games in the “Parasolverse” of author Gail Carriger.

You do not need any familiarity with Gail Carriger’s works or other Monster of the Week books to play. Parties of 2-6 players are invited to use this game to embark on epic adventures, solve murders, dismantle anti-supernatural sects, and so much more!

Why test play?

Test playing helps allow for quality control in game and makes sure the game is balanced and fun to play. It helps us iron out any wrinkles and provide the best possible product.

Okay...but what *is* the Parasolverse?

The Parasolverse is the alternative history, Victorian/steampunk, urban fantasy Universe author Gail Carriger has built to contain her three book series The Parasol Protectorate, The Finishing School Series, and The Custard Protocol. In this Universe, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and other supernatural creatures live amongst humans. Electricity has not been invented and steam power replaces combustion engines. Etiquette and manners are paramount and dictate much of ‘polite’ interaction. Depending on the culture, coexistence between humans, supernaturals, and other entities may be fraught. Additionally, what is mannerly in one culture is not mannerly in the other, causing cultural conflict.

What’s the name of the game?

Well....whatever you want it to be! But the game facilitates the collection of information to solve mysteries and stop evil plots on both small and large scales. Games might include solving a murder at a house party, infiltrating the secret lair of an anti-supernatural group to dismantle it from within, or adventuring in a dirigible to act as an interspecies intermediary. The possibilities are limited only by your creativity and the types of scenarios your party is willing to undertake.

I haven’t read Gail Carriger’s books. Is there an explanation of Parasolverse lore?

Sure is! You don’t need to be a fan of the series to play. In fact, we’d prefer it!

Are you making money of this and infringing on Gail Carriger or Powered by the Apocalypse’s Intellectual Property?

Nope. This is a fan labor of love. Think of it as an exceptionally complicated Choose Your Own Adventure fanfic.

Once completed this game will be gifted to the fandom, free of charge.

Is this game inclusive?

Hell yeah. This game is meant to be a fun and inclusive space. Characters can be of any race, sex, age, gender, sexuality, religion, ability, creed, size, shape, or appearance you desire. It’s alternative history, make it what you want it to be. If it’s not in the game and you want it to be, Agents (players) and Spymasters (Game Masters) are more than welcome to adapt the game to suit their needs. Miss Gail has provided us the sandbox, so we’re giving you some buckets and shovels to build some really awesome sandcastles.

What’s in the playbook?

This playbook includes a Lore introduction to the Parasolverse for those unfamiliar with the books, an explanation of gameplay (including rolling, taking harm, and healing), character sheets, a weapons list, and, upon completion, three example games and a glossary.

Interested in becoming a test player? Please join us in our test playing Discord to learn more and join in the fun!

We look forward to playing with you!

Requisite Disclaimer: The Parasol Protectorate and the Parasolverse belong to Gail Carriger, LLC. Monster of the Week is a product of Evil Hat Productions. This tabletop roleplay game is not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved, nor is it intended to make money off Gail Carriger, LLC’s or Evil Hat Productions copyright. This is purely for fun and to allow fans of the Parasolverse (and new friends) to play tabletop in the Carriger sandbox.

[beaubokuto]

━ iii. what you broke

pairing: tobio kageyama x f!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au, angst

summary: prince tobio kageyama is cruel. he was known to be vindictive, revengeful, other synonyms for anger’s embodiment. you were not quite as interesting: a simple village girl with a knack for stealing things and a wish to kill the prince.

a/n: criticism is always appreciated <3 this one was fun to write

tags: angst, royalty, swearing, medieval, fantasy, enemies to lovers, all characters are aged up, minor depictions of violence (dueling, sparring, no major bloodshed)

glossary

previous chapter  ━ next chapter

“I would have the opportunity to duel the prince?” You asked. You felt eagerness creep into your skin. It was your dream for years.

“You would be best not to sound that excited.” The flame boy said with a smile. “He would be king by then, but yes. You would have the opportunity to duel him, if you wished to do so. I am coming to you directly with an offer. Accompany me to the castle tonight in preparation.”

“I have the money.” You reached for your bag. “I planned to speak with General Shimizu today.”

“No need.” He waved you off. “Keep the money. You can find an excellent sword with... what is that? A moonful?” You wished you could wipe the look off of his face. “As I said, I came to you directly. Allow me to introduce myself.”

The orange haired boy stood and bowed only slightly with his his chin, hair creating a halo of light around his head. He was much shorter than you remembered, perhaps it was because your attention was focused on the prince. You mentally reminded yourself to be aware of your surroundings.

“I am Shoyo Hinata, son of the Flame and best mate of crowned prince Tobio Kageyama.” He recited. When he brought his burnt orange eyes to yours, he seemed to glitter. “And I am appointing you a training knight, if you wish to accept.”

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why?” You did not bow. You did not move. Your eyes flickered to the general’s, who still sat at the table. “Why are you appointing me directly? What is the trick?”

“There is no trick, only treats.” Hinata joked. “You have peaked my interest. I believe that you peaked the prince’s interest as well.”

He brought his hand forward to allow a flame to dance around his fingers. It was a small fire ball that circled his palm and twirled through each digit as if it were a real person.

“Besides, I think it would be fun, would it not?”

You agreed. How could you not?

Hinata gave you an explanation as to how everything would work, and you listened. It was a simple process: you would live with other training knights in a wing of the castle, you would spar and train and prepare for the duels at the end of each week with them and some of the actual knights, and you would either proceed or you would fail.

Not everyone would become a knight, even if they paid their dues. You were determined to become one. You were brilliant with a sword, even the daughter of the general thought as such.

You had to think of a plan. You had weeks until your duel with the prince.

And you decided that your duel with him would finally be his end.

“I cannot believe you are leaving me here to dwell by myself.” Kiyoko complained as you readied yourself. 

“You have plenty of other friends.”

“None that will spar with me.” She sighed. You gave her a look, and she shrugged. “None that are a good duel, rather.”

“Speaking of other friends.” You pulled the parcel out of your cloak. “This is from Tanaka.”

“If it is from him, I do not want it.” Kiyoko waved it off as if it were a bug flying too close to her face.

“He claims it to be an apology.”

With that, Kiyoko lifted a brow. She reached from her sitting position on the edge of her bed. Her bed was rather soft, so she had to physically move up to reach you. You wondered what that was like, to sleep on something that squishy. Perhaps you would know soon.

You handed her the gift.

Her nimble fingers untied the knot and tore the paper off, revealing a white box with a note.

She read the note in silence and proceeded to open the gift, revealing a beautiful necklace made of blue and silver. You couldn’t tell exactly what it was made of, but you knew it was as beautiful as she was.

“Wow.” You sighed before you could hold yourself back. “That’s gorgeous.”

“He thinks he can simply purchase his way through an apology.” Kiyoko tossed the necklace back into the box. You almost reached out to make sure it was all right. “He is mistaken.”

“Kiyoko...”

“If you are to tell me to accept the gift and a note claiming what I already know, you are a fool.” She turned to you. “Now, let us get you ready to leave. You cannot wear the same thing every day in the castle as you do here.”

Shoyo Hinata waited for you.

You had only your clothes, a small bag of clothes that Kiyoko gave you (easy to move in and comfortable sleepwear, she told you), your sword at your hip, and your pouch of coins. 

General Shimizu nodded goodbye as you headed for the door. You turned to thank him for his kindness, to which he said “I cannot wait to work alongside you weeks from now.”

It made you grin.

Hinata attached your bag to the side of his horse, aware of how you watched his movements with intensity.

“I am not here to kill you. I would have done it by now.” Hinata told you. He still stared at the task at hand. You looked at the back of his head, his hair looking like hair rather than fire. 

“You watch as I disrespect the prince only to appear at my best friend’s house to offer me an amazing opportunity.” You crossed your arms. “There is a saying about things being too good to be true.”

“You know, you should work on your trust issues.” He said as he hopped onto the horse. “It will make your life so much easier.”

His informality made you blink in confusion. You barely ever heard someone talk without honorifics, even Kiyoko talked to you in formalities most of the time. You thought it was simply because she was a bit older than you, but hearing someone the same age as you speak with the tongue of friendship was strange.

“What?” Hinata looked down at you. “Are you coming on or what?”

“You speak as if we are friends.” You finally said. You climbed onto the horse to sit behind him. 

“Oh right, sorry!” He giggled and sent you a smile. “I forget sometimes that we are supposed to talk formally. Which do you prefer: commoner, my lady, knight?”

“Why is my name not an option?”

“Because isn’t calling you by your name a bit informal, my lady?” He looked over his shoulder one last time before giving the horse a nice pat on it’s head, making it move towards the castle.

“I want you to repeat yourself.” Tobio Kageyama sighed with a pinched brow. 

“She’s in the training quarters now.” Shoyo Hinata said without missing a beat. He stood in front of his best friend with a huge grin and fire in his eyes. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“You witness this girl have blatant disrespect for me and for the crown, yet you bring her to my home with an offer of free training and living.”

“That is exactly what I did, yes.”

Kageyama sighed once more, attempting to push back the anger that resonated in his chest.

“You should see her with a sword, Tobio.” Hinata continued once he realized just how angry he was. “Watch her first duel in three days time. I promise you, it will not be in vain.”

“And how do you know of this talent?”

“I watched her and Sir Shimizu’s daughter practice together.” Hinata said. “I talked to the General himself, and he claims that she is excellent and had been saving up for years. She will be great, I promise you.”

“And her duel with me?”

“You may want to practice a bit harder. No offense.”

The Knights Quarters sat in the left wing of the castle. The darkness of the castle only seemed to get darker as you made your way through the hallways, mentally noting where you had been. 

There were four rooms for the men training, all full with at least ten beds. There were only two rooms for the women. As it turns out, you were only one of three females who were training.

The rooms were dark, only two lights along the ceiling and small windows. The beds were spread along both walls, totaling to ten. Each bed had a hanging piece underneath for storage and a dark wooden bedside table. 

One of the girls seemed to had been training for a while, sprawled out in her claimed bed. She had short brown hair and piercing light brown eyes. She had a scar along her shoulder that you took notice of. The other had long light brown hair tied into a plait, freckled skin, and blue eyes that gleamed at the sight of you.

“Welcome to Knight Training!” The blue eyed girl greeted with a smile. “I am Yua Ito, daughter of the Hunter. This is Akari Yamamoto, daughter of Sir Yamamoto.”

“Hello.” You placed your bag on an empty bed. You introduced yourself, adding, “Daughter of a merchant.”

“I heard Shoyo Hinata offered you this position directly.” Akari spoke up. She lifted her head only slightly from the pillow. “You must be good with your weapon.”

“I plan to get better.”

Akari smiled, though it felt melicious. “How ambitious. Cannot wait to see you in action, chosen one.”

Yua smacked her thigh, but Akari only rolled her eyes and closed them again. Yua turned to you, smile back onto her face.

“Do not pay attention to her attitude.” Yua waved it off as if it were an annoying fly. “She’s naturally like that.”

Before you could reply, the door to the room opened.

Your name was announced by the man at the door. He was of a large build, with thick armor and you could count at least four knives in plain sight. He must be a soldier, or a body guard of sorts.

You hadn’t even sat down yet.

“I am she.” You said, with as much formality as you could. 

“Your presence is requested by the prince.”

masterlist

tag list: @immxnty @elegantlykpop​ @thechaosoflonging​ @starryparkrr​ @cosmotoic​

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 8

I started out this angsty chapter with a fluffy flashback to stomp on people’s feelings, oops.

> Read it here on Ao3 <

> Read it here on Wattpad <

CHAPTER 8:  ABBANDONO

Glossary: Mon soleil: My sun

Ten Years Ago (Mood Music: Hymne à l’amour - Josh Groban)

“So, what do you think? Red or blue?” a mild, baritone voice crooned over Adrien’s shoulder.

Adrien scrutinized the shimmery fabric, slowly running his fingers over its length, his small hands not quite able to hold the entirety of the garment. “Definitely blue,” he concluded. “It’s her favorite.”

“Indeed, it is. Sapphire blue, to be exact,” Gabriel remarked, placing the gowns into their respective boxes. “Your mother is a remarkable woman, and she deserves nothing but the best. Especially on her birthday.”

“Wanna see the card I made for her?” Adrien chirped eagerly as he hopped off the chair to retrieve the aforementioned card from a nearby table.

Gabriel took the card gingerly and held it up, careful to not get any of the overabundant glitter on himself. “Hmm, your picture of– a… goat, is it?– is quite charming.”

Adrien giggled, his toothy smile displaying two missing front teeth, which he’d recently lost (and been richly recompensed for). “It’s not a goat, it’s a hamster!”

Gabriel managed to hide his surprise well. “Ah, yes, of course. Also, your handwriting has improved, and your spelling is impeccable. Perfect as always,” he remarked as he handed the card back.

“Thanks, Papa!” Adrien beamed, thrilled that his efforts were acknowledged. “I’ve been practicing!”

Gabriel smiled back fondly. He put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and said, “Come, it’s dinnertime. Let’s meet up with your mother.”

Once the card was put away, the pair traversed down the spacious halls of the mansion towards the dining room.

“I can’t wait til her surprise party on Saturday!” Adrien whispered to his father as they walked, buzzing with excitement. “I wish it was here already!”

Gabriel chuckled, amused by his son’s enthusiasm. “Well, until we figure out a way to time travel, we’ll just have to wait, and keep it a secret.”

Later that night, Emilie Agreste assisted a freshly bathed Adrien in brushing his teeth.

“Have you been enjoying your piano lessons, mon soleil?”

“Mnnnh-hnn!” Adrien mumbled approvingly.

“I’m glad. You should play for me tomorrow and show me that new piece you’ve been working on,” she replied, trying to brush out some rather stubborn hair on either side of his head. “Hmm, I can’t get these cowlicks to stay down,” she said with mock irritation. Her mouth quirked upward and she spiked the hair up even higher with her fingertips. “They kind of look like cat ears, don’t you think? You’re definitely the cutest kitten I’ve ever seen,” she joked, ruffling his soft, damp hair.

Adrien giggled, mouth still full of toothpaste.

“Except that this little kitten loooooves his bath time, doesn’t he?” she remarked as she finally succeeded in smoothing out his hair. “And you know what instruments cats play, instead of the piano?” she asked casually.

Adrien’s eyebrows rose up in silent question as he swished water in his mouth.

She leaned down by his head and playfully replied, “Purr- cussion.”

With a loud snort, Adrien sprayed water all over the bathroom mirror as he busted out laughing. Emilie giggled mischievously, doubling over with laughter at Adrien’s stupefied face.

“Mama, that was soooo cheesy!” he laughed, wiping the water and toothpaste that dribbled down his chin.

Snickering through her teeth, she replied, “Well, you still laughed, so it can’t have been that bad!”

“If Papa hears it, you’ll be in treble,” he countered, and Emilie’s snickering turned into a full-blown cackle.

Still giggling, they quickly wiped down the mirror and countertops, then strolled down the halls towards Gabriel’s office.

Emilie rapped on the door a couple of times before opening it, peering around to look for him.

Gabriel sat behind his desk, poring over his work. “Yes?” he answered as he wrote.

“Helloooo~ my darling husband,” Emilie lilted coquettishly.

Gabriel lifted his head, then smiled when he saw the two of them. “Ah, it’s my two favorite people in the world. What can I do for you?”

“Our little sunshine child is here to say goodnight,” Emilie replied, shuffling Adrien into the enormous room.

“Oh!” Gabriel glanced at the clock, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize it was that time of the day already,” he said, stretching out his stiff limbs. He pushed his chair back and waited for his son as he scampered towards him.

The seven-year-old leaped into his father’s arms, causing him to grunt slightly and making the wheeled desk chair scoot back a few inches.

Gabriel chuckled and patted Adrien’s head. “If you’re big enough to knock the wind out of me, you’re old enough to help me with all this paperwork.”

Emilie leaned on the doorframe, looking on warmly. “He’s definitely having a growth spurt; he keeps outgrowing all his clothes!”

A female voice behind her spoke, “Would you like me to order some new clothes for him, Emilie?”

Emilie turned around to face the desk on the other side of the room, and beamed. “Oh, would you, Nathalie? You’re the best!”

Adrien returned to his mother, waving back enthusiastically as he was ushered out, “Good night, Nathalie! Don’t work too hard!”

The door closed behind them and the room was quiet once again. Gabriel and Nathalie looked at each other with matching grins, silently acknowledging how Emilie and Adrien carried such life and exuberance wherever they went.

Nathalie remarked as she resumed organizing some documents, “He becomes more and more like his mother every day, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he certainly does,” Gabriel replied as he leaned back in his chair, his smile growing wider. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Current Timeline

(Mood Music: Reborn - Abel Korzeniowski)

Chat Noir leaped and sprinted towards his mansion on autopilot; pulse thrilling, limbs aching, and yet he felt none of it. The only thing he could register was the steadily climbing resentment and indignation as he thought back to every interaction, every snub, all the unfairness, mistreatment, and neglect he’d suffered (as well as repressed) throughout the past few years.

He’d seen the signs of Gabriel’s downward spiral. They were subtle at first, but unmistakable. And yet he had stubbornly continued to ignore them. He’d even rationalized them, always coming up with some excuse or explanation so he wouldn’t have to face the music. He realized it now; his passiveness had been his gravest mistake.

Upon reaching the last building on the block before his destination, Chat skidded to a halt. In the past, when he returned home, he would take a winding route so as to lose anyone who might try to follow, and once he was sure he was alone, enter through the back way. Today, he didn't care who saw him standing on the roof in front of his home. He crouched in silence, staring at the Agreste manor; it looked just as imposing, dreary, and lifeless on the outside as it felt on the inside.

He squared himself, trying to calm his nerves. Gabriel would be expecting him. Chat bit his lip, realizing that he still had no idea what to say to him. But then again, he wasn’t the type to go into things with a plan anyway; improvisation was more his style.

Finally, he stood and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

Adrien had scarcely landed in his bedroom and detransformed when he was sharply yanked by the arm towards the couch. There was a duffel bag and a pile of clothes haphazardly thrown in, as well as some toiletries and other necessities. He also spotted a large wad of cash and… was that his passport?

Nathalie shut the zipper and practically threw the bag into his arms. “Adrien, you need to leave,” she uttered low as she briskly walked him back towards the large windows, the unmistakable dread in her eyes betraying her seemingly calm exterior. “Now,” she added emphatically, noting his lack of movement.

Taken aback, Adrien stammered, “Nathalie, wha–?”

She continued, indistinct, “You’re going to get on the metro and take the train out of Paris– any destination, it doesn’t matter. Leave your phone here; he can track you if you take it with you. When you arrive, check into a hotel, then–”

“Wait! Nathalie!” he called louder to get her attention. “What’s going on?” He stared, bewildered, as Plagg peeked his head out of his shirt pocket, slowly biting into a piece of Camembert.

The woman frowned and asked rhetorically, “Were you not there during the last akuma battle?! There’s no time to discuss this; you need to leave the city.”

“Hang on, I can’t leave Paris!” Adrien protested.

She fixed him with an intense stare. “I don’t think you truly understand the situation, Adrien. Gabriel is your father, but he is also Hawkmoth. And, as of earlier today, your enemy. An enemy who knows who you are, where you live, where you sleep. Not only is he planning to take your miraculous; he’s going to place you under permanent house arrest. In fact, the term ‘house arrest’ is way too mild a description, but I’m sure you get the idea.” She took his shoulder and continued to walk him towards the window. “Now, go, before he realizes you’re here.”

Adrien knitted his brows and planted his feet. “Wait! But what about you? What about Ladybug?”

Nathalie replied dismissively, “I’ll be fine; he won’t even know I was involved with your departure. And Ladybug, she’ll continue to handle herself as she always has. But with you gone, we can at least guarantee that Hawkmoth won’t get ahold of both miraculouses, in the event that she’s defeated.”

Adrien’s eyes widened at this statement. “No. No! This is exactly why I can’t leave. I can’t leave her by herself against Father.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I won’t let what happened today happen again. She needs me. She can’t just keep defeating his akumas over and over; Father needs to be actually stopped. We need to take his miraculous away. And it’s going to take both of us to do it.”

Nathalie snapped. “You can’t beat him! He’s developed the abilities from his miraculous far beyond what you could’ve ever thought capable and unlocked much of its potential; far more than you have with your own.”

Adrien could only stare in shock as she continued to speak.

She sighed, letting go of his shoulder. “Ladybug can deal with Hawkmoth. She’ll either defeat him, or she won’t. But your priority should be to stay as far away as possible and be safe. You need to think of yourself, Adrien.”

He shook his head. “I’m done thinking only about myself. It’s what I’ve been doing for years, just blindly following orders. I need to start doing what’s right instead of always sticking to what’s safe.”

Nathalie narrowed her eyes in equal parts consternation and puzzlement. “So what will you do instead?”

Adrien set down the duffel bag and took a step away from her towards his bedroom door, motioning with his hand. “I’ll talk to him. I can reason with him, I know I can. There must be some part of him that’s still willing to listen.”

Nathalie paced back and forth, placing both hands on her face, almost as if she was trying to keep her body from exploding. With a hint of desperation, she implored, “Adrien... please reconsider.”

“Nathalie… I know you’re worried, but I can’t–” his voice cracked, and he had to pause for a few seconds. “I can’t leave Mom here with him,” he declared with finality, tone heavy and full of sadness.

Nathalie deflated and she lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut. He’d pulled the “Emilie” card. She knew immediately that she wasn’t going to win this argument.

Somewhere deep down, Nathalie had truly always believed Emilie could be re-awakened. It was one of the biggest reasons why she’d stayed with the Agrestes all these years.

She missed her too; Emilie was her best friend. Her pillar of strength. The light in her heart. The woman that she’d always loved from afar since childhood, never acting on her feelings until it was too late. And yet, she still could never leave her side. She had to remain part of her life, even if her secret would die with her. When Emilie “disappeared”, Nathalie took it upon herself to protect everything that was most important to her beloved. She had already failed with Emilie’s husband. But she would not allow it to happen with her only son too.

She sighed heavily. “Just… be careful, Adrien. You don’t know what he’s truly capable of. I swore to Emilie that I’d do my best to take care of you, before she— before...”

Adrien walked towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. “I know,” he said quietly, smiling, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Plagg looked up at him, concern etched on his tiny features.

Nathalie was a tall woman, but now that Adrien was older and only a few weeks shy of being an official adult, he had already surpassed her height. In spite of this, even now, she continually struggled to remember that he wasn’t a child anymore. Nathalie’s tired eyes met Adrien’s, and she shakily reached up to squeeze one of his hands, a bit harder than she’d intended but he didn’t seem to notice.

With nothing more to be said, Adrien plodded out of the room as if his legs were made of lead, and Nathalie was left alone with the overwhelming sense of foreboding raging in her chest.

(Mood Music: Morning Passage - The Hours)

Adrien stood in front of Gabriel’s office door. He could feel goosebumps forming on his arms and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rising. He would much prefer to hop on that long-distance train that Nathalie suggested rather than face his father, but he knew this confrontation had been a long time coming.

So he knocked.

There was no answer. A moment later he opened the door and looked inside. Gabriel was at his desk, but did not react to his presence. Nooroo sat on a pile of books, but from the looks of it, he wasn’t permitted to speak, as usual. Adrien stepped in and closed the door, but still, Gabriel would not look up from his papers.

The pit in Adrien’s stomach grew larger. Was he no longer even considered worthy to be acknowledged? The mounting frustration spurred him on as he walked further into the room.

Putting on a false confident air, he finally spoke, “Father... it’s time we really talk.”

Gabriel ignored him, casually leafing through his paperwork and scribbling in his notebook on occasion. Nooroo eyed him wearily, then back at Adrien.

Adrien straightened up to his full height, bristling with rage. “At least look at me when I talk to you!” Adrien snarled. “It’s the least you could do after everything I’ve done for you all these years!”

Gabriel finally lifted his gaze, a lofty look pasted on his face as if Adrien were nothing more than an annoying fly that entered the room.

“What is there to say? I’m sure you can predict what comes next,” Gabriel replied, leaning back on his massive chair and steepling his fingers. “However, since you obviously seem to be having trouble thinking clearly lately, I’ll give you a hint.” His eyebrows furrowed in displeasure; his voice became darker. “Effective immediately, you will surrender your miraculous, and are hereby forbidden to leave the mansion indefinitely.”

Adrien widened his eyes, not in surprise but in outrage. “No,” he stated simply.

“That wasn’t a request.” Gabriel eyed him carefully, disapproval evident in his face. “You knew this would happen when you disobeyed me. Why try to fight it?”

Adrien inhaled sharply and braced himself for what he was about to say next. “Because what we’re doing is wrong.”

The older man chuckled with that ever-present condescending air to his voice. “Since when do you care about right and wrong? This was never about being the stereotypical ‘good guys’ and changing the world one good deed at a time. This was always about gaining power. Power that we need for a perfectly legitimate reason. And now, apparently, you’ve got morals, suddenly pretending to care about others.” He fixed Adrien with a steely glare. “Life is not black and white, Adrien. My methods may seem unconventional and, I’ll admit, even controversial. But at least I’m no hypocrite.”

Adrien suppressed a growl, recoiling in vexation and distress. It was like a sack of hot coals had been dropped into his stomach, searing him with the guilt that had always been there, but had now grown tenfold. Gabriel somehow always managed to find a way to make him feel like a horrible human being.

But... he wasn’t wrong. Chat Noir was just as guilty as Hawkmoth was for putting the city in danger, even if their motives were slightly different. How could he possibly argue with him, when he was just as responsible for harming the innocent? Could his father be right? Was there no escaping the giant pit he’d dug for himself? His throat felt dry, and he couldn’t help but wilt under his father’s judgmental gaze.

It was at that moment that his mind decided to reflect upon the time he’d spent with Ladybug. Nowadays, the thought of her brought him hope and courage, for reasons he’d only recently begun to understand. She was a beautiful light that shone brighter and brighter the more he got to know her, illuminating the dark prison he’d been trapped in for so long.

He recalled how she’d apologized to him for putting him in danger as Adrien. She’d acknowledged her mistakes, then set forth to rectify them. And as Chat, who had been her enemy for years, even knowing what he’d done, she was still willing to try to help him be free. Ladybug was the only person outside of their family circle that knew about his double life. She didn’t feel that he was unworthy of redemption, and she actually believed in him. Somehow she had welcomed him as her partner despite their past, despite his background, despite knowing who his father was, despite everything.

He recognized that wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to accomplish anything. His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. Admitting that you’re wrong is not a weakness. It’s a strength.

Adrien straightened up subconsciously, drawing courage and determination from the faith and confidence that Ladybug had in him.

“People change,” he finally replied, stepping forward. “We can both change. Father, just listen! We’ve been terrorizing the city, putting its entire population in peril for so long, and for nothing! We can’t keep doing this,” he stated, almost pleadingly.

“Oh, it’s not for nothing,” Gabriel raised his eyebrows, carefully eyeing Adrien. “Think about what happened today. About how you failed me. We would have succeeded were it not for your complete and utter ineptitude,” he continued with unconcealed irritation and disdain, his voice sounding colder and more severe now that they were talking face to face instead of through a communicator.

Adrien clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms. He had to convince him. “You’re going to kill people,” he stated, fighting to keep his voice from quavering.

Gabriel tsked and waved dismissively. “Don’t be so callow. Sacrifices must be made; you and I both agreed on that long ago.”

“I was a child!!” Adrien shouted, an unbearable heat forming at the base of his neck, the tension in the room almost suffocating. “I was a scared kid who had just lost his mother and was desperate to bring her back, and you were my father! I trusted you, believed that you would know what to do!” He lowered his voice, struggling to calm down. “You failed ME, Father. Not the other way around. And if you don’t stop you’ll end up losing your whole family.”

Gabriel inhaled sharply. “When I succeed and you get your mother back, as undeserving as you are, you’ll see the error of your ways and beg for my forgiveness!”

“Mom will never forgive you when she finds out what you’ve done!” Adrien countered emphatically. “What WE’VE done! Father, we’ve been wrong. All these years, we’ve done something unforgivable, caused pain to so many people! But we can put a stop to this now. We can end this and together we can find another way to help mom. Ladybug can help us!”

“Do NOT bring up that insect!! You know that’s completely out of the question!” Gabriel snarled. “I will continue on my mission and so will you, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I can’t,” Adrien said, resolute. “I won’t," he declared, stronger now. “And I won’t let you do it either. I’m not going to let you hurt innocent people anymore. It’s not what Mom would want, and we both know it.”

Gabriel replied, enraged, “How would you know what she would want?! I’m the one who knew her best! Whether I have to force you to help me, or take your power back and use it for myself; one way or another, I WILL bring my Emilie back to life!”

Adrien felt as if he’d been physically struck. “Back… back to life?” He searched his father’s eyes in confusion. “What do you mean ‘back to life’? M-mom isn’t— she’s in a coma, she’s not... You said—”

“Your mother’s dead, Adrien,” Gabriel spat, shooting him a venomous look.

Adrien gaped at him in disbelief, struggling to keep his legs from buckling. He wanted to call his father a liar. He wanted to curse at him and yell at him at the top of his lungs that he was mistaken. But he couldn’t. Somewhere inside he knew it was true.

“You… you lied to me?”

Gabriel ignored his question. “This is why we need the miraculous of creation,” he explained, exasperated. “Your mother doesn’t need healing. She needs to be revived.” He shifted in his chair, crossing his arms, as if the whole conversation was all too irritating to have to endure. “Do you understand now? Why it’s so important to acquire those earrings?”

Adrien stood there, incredulous, in the middle of the spacious yet overwhelmingly stifling hall. Was this really happening? This was literally the subject of so many of his nightmares, where he would awaken sobbing and hyperventilating.

So why wasn’t he crying? Why wasn’t he screaming? He felt numb. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

His mother.

His kind, beautiful mother, who had loved him, held him, protected him. His biggest source of comfort as a child, the best example of pure, unconditional love. The thought of her being gone permanently had been so devastating and overpowering that he’d desperately fought to make sure it would never come to pass, and had fiercely held onto even the tiniest sliver of hope his father had offered.

And yet, in reality, the possibility of bringing her back was so much smaller than he’d ever imagined, and it had always been that small. Had all his hopes of seeing her again been based solely on Gabriel’s shaky conjecture and ambiguous knowledge of magic? What else had his father been hiding from him?

Finally regaining control of his voice, Adrien whispered, “That means… she’s gone. She’s really gone…” He fought a sudden wave of lightheadedness and nausea, his heart beating a violent rhythm inside his chest.

“NO!! She isn’t!! ” Gabriel roared, his voice steadily rising in pitch. “She’s well within reach and I will save her. I will never surrender her. She is my wife, my soul, my everything! You don’t have the capability to even begin to comprehend the depths of my love for her.”

Adrien seethed at the insinuation that he didn’t love his own mother as much as Gabriel did, but decided to continue to try to reason with him instead of rising to the bait. “But she IS gone, Father! It’s just the two of us now! We need to accept this. We need to come to terms with the fact that she won’t be coming back so we can begin to heal! And, if we stick together and help each other, then I think… I think we can even be a family again.”

Gabriel threw his head back and laughed, a dark, throaty rumble that echoed throughout the spacious room.

“Adrien,” he said finally, looking down his nose at him. “I honestly don’t give a damn what you think.”

He abruptly rose from his chair and walked towards the large portrait of Emilie, activating the hidden lift to his lair, with Nooroo trailing behind.

Adrien raised his eyebrows, unable to do anything but stand stupefied for several seconds. Snapping out of it, he stomped angrily towards the small elevator as Gabriel ascended.

“What the hell?! You are not walking away from me! We’re not done here!!” But his father didn’t even turn around.

Enraged, Adrien summoned the elevator impatiently, clearly not satisfied with his father’s sudden termination of their discussion.

Upon arrival to the dark chamber, Adrien spotted him immediately; a tall, thin figure standing by the immense window, silhouetted in the darkening early evening sky. However, the man looking out the glass was no longer Gabriel, but Hawkmoth.

Why did he transform? Adrien frowned in confusion.

The silence in the dark and cavernous room was deafening. The space had always seemed chillier than the rest of the mansion, despite the carefully temperature-controlled interiors. Hawkmoth’s form radiated hostility, and a trickle of ice slowly crept down Adrien’s spine.

“Father...?” Adrien slowly approached him, heart rate speeding up, hackles raised in sudden alarm, his gut screaming at him to run.

Hawkmoth’s head turned slightly towards him, thin lips curled into a sneer and he gave a small chuckle. The very air in the room felt oppressive, almost to the point of being suffocating.

“You worthless child,” Hawkmoth said with unveiled disgust. “I gave you the privilege of wielding the cat miraculous and it’s thanks to me that you have it to begin with. I could have taken it away permanently after I found it in your belongings years ago. I see now that letting you keep it was a mistake. You have more freedom and power than you deserve. But you forget that I’m the one with the power to destroy you.”

Hawkmoth turned around, arms resting behind his back, appearing almost unnaturally tall and imposing. He walked towards him.

“I will repeat what I said earlier. You are dismissed from your duties, Adrien. Hand over the ring, or I will take it from you,” he glowered menacingly.

Adrien took a fearful step back.

It was a trap. Hawkmoth had counted on his hotheaded and impulsive nature, and knew that he would follow him up here, where escape was most difficult.

Panic rose to his chest, but despite his heart pounding, he planted his feet and said, “P-Plagg, claws—”

Momentary blackness and a sharp pain interrupted him. His head swam and he realized he couldn’t breathe. His body twisted and squirmed, trying to escape the grip around his throat, clawing at Hawkmoth’s arms and gasping for air as he was slowly raised off the ground, upwards along the wall.

Hawkmoth yanked him away from the wall and slammed him again, disorienting him even further and weakening his grip. The edges of his vision started to blacken. He knew he didn’t have long before he passed out.

Adrien kicked wildly and scratched at Hawkmoth’s arms. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let Hawkmoth succeed. He couldn’t. But as his body became more and more numb and his struggling slowly decreased, he was quickly losing hope. Unwelcomed tears pricked at his eyes as he looked into the eyes of the man who had raised him.

His father.

Despite all of his neglect and emotional abuse, Gabriel had never laid a finger on him.

But, Adrien now realized, this was not Gabriel. Not anymore. Only Hawkmoth remained. Gabriel was gone. His entire family had been torn away from him within the span of mere minutes.

Would anyone miss him if he was gone too?

A wave of emotion flitted across his face. Nathalie, Nino, Alya, Marinette. Ladybug. Would she miss him? Would she know what happened to him? Would the next time she encountered Chat Noir be through a different wielder? The thought of Gabriel being in possession of the power of destruction terrified him, and made him fear for Ladybug’s life. Adrien had sworn that he would protect her. If his father got ahold of his miraculous, she would be in more danger than he could have ever fathomed. He had to escape… he had to… he...

The veil of blackness grew and Adrien ceased his struggling altogether, having no strength remaining. But before his eyes rolled back, a black flash zoomed directly at Gabriel’s face, knocking him back in surprise.

Adrien crumpled to the ground, panting and coughing, while Plagg whizzed around Hawkmoth, the latter growling in outrage. Adrien looked up at them, clutching at his aching throat, his vision slowly returning to normal.

Hawkmoth finally succeeded in swatting Plagg away, and his tiny body was thrown towards the far wall.

Adrien attempted to call out to him, but only succeeded in releasing a strangled wheezing sound.

To his surprise, Plagg performed a graceful twist and landed on all fours. He pushed himself off the wall and puffed up his tiny chest.

“Is that all you’ve got, you pansy??” he taunted, accompanied with a rude gesture at Hawkmoth that suggested he perform an action of dubious anatomical probability to himself. Then he zipped back towards Hawkmoth, lashing his tail against the villain’s face with audible slaps, hissing and snarling like the cat he was.

Adrien couldn’t help but smirk. Seeing Plagg’s courage fueled his willpower and, despite his painful, labored breathing and a metallic taste in his mouth, he rose to his feet with a slight sway. He became woozy from the change in altitude, but nevertheless, a fiery determination blazed in his eyes.

With a renewed vigor, Adrien managed to croak out, “Plagg, claws out.” A bright flash of green illuminated the room.

Roaring ferociously, Hawkmoth unsheathed his sword and charged at Chat, who barely had enough time to block with his staff.

The two clashed in vicious combat, their strikes quick and merciless. Chat bounced around, dodging and parrying, taking full advantage of his catlike agility to avoid incoming attacks. Hawkmoth was relentless in his pursuit, always surging forward, never hesitating or taking a step back.

Hawkmoth’s masterful swordsmanship was unrelenting and intense. It had been years since they sparred and practiced together. The difference between his fighting style now, compared to how it was long ago, was stark. It was as if he were fighting a completely different person, one who focused solely on offense; one that aimed to kill, not incapacitate.

With a grunt, Hawkmoth swung his sword in a wide slash, and Chat was unable to block the full blow. A trickle of blood traveled down his arm, and Chat couldn’t help but stare at it.

He hurt him. Actually hurt him. It wasn’t a trick, an attempt to get the ring. A ploy he’d apologize for and claim ’Adrien, you made me do it’. His father was trying to actively injure him. The reality that this wasn’t some bad dream came crashing down on him, in the most physical sense. He looked up at disbelief at his father–or whoever he was at this point.

Chat continued to parry Hawkmoth’s brutal jabs and slashes, but occasionally one would penetrate his defenses. Before he knew it, he was riddled with cuts and scratches.

He panted heavily, lungs burning, heart pounding, and muscles aching. He looked up at his enemy, who wasn’t even breathing hard; not a single bead of sweat dotted his brow.

Chat made a desperate lunge at him, hoping to momentarily stun him so he could catch his breath. But in his exhaustion, he was careless, his movements sloppy.

The next thing he registered was simply pain. An excruciating, stabbing pain on his torso.

Chat let out a ragged scream, sagging against a wall and crumpling to the ground, clutching at the throbbing slash on his side. Breathing became excruciating.

And yet, he forced himself to his feet. He took a step. Then another. He reached for his staff and got back into a defensive stance.

Hawkmoth’s lips twitched upwards, amusement dancing in his eyes. Chat could have even sworn it almost looked like pride, but surely that was impossible.

Chat leaped towards him with a downwards strike of his staff, which was easily blocked, and they resumed their skirmish. Hawkmoth advanced on him, drawing out the combat comfortably, and yet Chat became more and more winded by the second. He looked around, searching in vain for any object that could be used to his advantage.

Rivulets of sweat traveled down his face and neck and it was then that his eyes widened in realization.

He’s toying with me. He just wants to tire me out.

Sensing his hesitation, Hawkmoth slashed at Chat’s leg with a long horizontal swipe. Chat howled in pain, collapsing onto the cold, hard tile once again.

Hawkmoth roughly lifted him by the right arm and yanked him towards the small table in the center of the room. He threw him down with a loud thunk and held him down by the wrist. Chat was too weak to wrest himself out of the ironclad grasp, not even able to put up the slightest hint of resistance.

Hawkmoth lifted his sword, readying himself to strike downwards. Chat looked up, eyes hazy and disoriented. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shake off the fog in his brain.

“Surrender, or lose your ring the hard way,” Hawkmoth hissed, his face half concealed in shadow.

Chat looked up at him in confusion. Why not just take the ring from his finger, since he clearly wasn’t in any condition to fight anymore?

“Father…” Chat croaked out. “Why are you doing this?”

The corner of Hawkmoth’s mouth quirked upwards into a cruel sneer. “I’m teaching you a lesson. After all, disobedient children must be disciplined.”

Chat’s eyes grew wide in terror. He’s really going to do it. Is… Is this how it ends for me? In my own home, broken, and alone?

On the verge of despairing, a soft, loving voice spoke from the corner of his mind:

“You’re not alone anymore, Chat.”

Ladybug’s kind words washed over him like a gentle, cooling breeze, easing his fear and filling his heart with hope. Whatever happened, Hawkmoth must never get ahold of the ring.

A small flicker of an idea crossed his mind.

Chat scoffed and remarked sarcastically, “You picked an odd time to finally decide to start parenting.” He looked up at him, raising his free hand. “But you’re not the only one who’s got a few tricks up their sleeve.”

Hawkmoth paused, eyeing him curiously.

Chat gave him a final smirk and said calmly, “Cataclysm.”

Hawkmoth’s face contorted in surprise, and he let out an infuriated shout as Chat’s left palm touched the floor.

Unbeknownst to him, Chat had gained the ability to summon Cataclysm through both hands, and not just through the one that wore the ring. Hawkmoth had been counting on him not being able to use his power without uselessly destroying the table his right (ring) hand was resting on.

Long, spidery veins stretched across the entire floor, slowly spreading their sickly, rusted blackness. Losing his balance as the ground crumbled beneath them, Hawkmoth let go of Chat’s wrist and leaped backwards, away from the epicenter of destruction.

Moments later, Hawkmoth rose from the rubble, pushing some debris off of himself in irritation. The dust had cleared somewhat, and the dim light of the sunset entering through the window illuminated the room once again.

Finally coming back to his senses, Hawkmoth’s head whipped back and forth, searching across the chasm. But it was too late. Chat was already gone.

Consumed with both disbelief and rage, he let out a loud scream; raw, savage, and haunting.

(Mood Music: Like I’m Going to Lose You - Meghan Trainor, Eric Chou cover)

Marinette leisurely stepped out the side door of the bakery humming a soft tune, carrying a large bag of trash. With a grunt, she hefted the bag into a waste bin along the edge of the sidewalk for morning pickup. She stretched out her tired limbs, reaching her hands over her head and admiring the soft hues of the darkening sky.

She yawned as she opened the door to go back inside, but stopped in her tracks. A sudden, insistent feeling pricked and prodded at her insides, urging her to turn around. Something didn’t feel right. Seconds ticked by; then a whole minute. It just didn’t make sense to feel so uneasy.

Sighing resignedly, she decided to follow her instincts even though nothing in the area seemed out of the ordinary.

And so Marinette sat on the steps, keeping her eyes peeled for anything odd and her ears open for anything unusual. Several minutes passed. But there was nothing. No akumas, no old ladies in distress, no cats stuck in trees.

Tikki phased through the door discreetly, having grown concerned about Marinette’s absence, as she’d only planned to be gone for less than a minute.

“Marinette? Is anything wrong?” Tikki whispered as she zipped behind Marinette’s neck, hidden by a long curtain of midnight hair.

Marinette shrugged, hugging her arms around herself as a rather ineffective shield from the crisp evening air. “I don’t know, Tikki. I just… I had a strong feeling that I needed to be out here.” She sighed softly. Maybe it wasn’t her instinct after all, but leftover jitters from her near death experience earlier that day.

“We could check, to make sure. Let’s take a small stroll around the block before going back inside, just in case,” Tikki suggested. Marinette nodded in agreement and stood, reluctant but compliant.

The walk around the neighborhood was… uneventful.

Marinette quirked her mouth to the side in consternation and murmured low so only Tikki could hear, “Well… no news is good news, right?”

Tikki made a small humming sound, not quite convinced. However, she knew that ever since Marinette had begun developing and strengthening more of her miraculous’ abilities over the years, that there were bound to be a few false alarms.

And so, Marinette began heading home. Tikki leaned her tiny head on her charge’s shoulder, no longer on alert but still keeping an eye out.

And then she saw him.

“MARINETTE!!” Tikki whisper-screamed, yanking on the hair by her left ear to get her to turn her head.

Marinette winced. “Ow! Tikki! Why did y-“ The words died in her throat. Her eyes widened like saucers and her breath escaped her as if she’d been punched in the gut.

A slim, black form was slumped against a wall inside a tiny, darkened nook between buildings. Marinette recognized it instantly.

She dashed towards him, heart pounding in terror and confusion. Her eyes darted around as she crossed the street to look for an assailant, but saw no one.

She fell to the ground next to him, quickly examining him. His breathing was labored, but he was alive. Barely. He was struggling to stay conscious, clearly exhausted, and his belt was tightly wrapped around his thigh to stop the bleeding from a large wound.

“Chat Noir!!? What happened?!” she cried, aghast and horrified by his condition.

Her voice jolted him out of his haze and his eyes popped open in alarm. He seemed to recognize her and his eyes softened, looking relieved and almost… trusting?

She tried again. “What happened?! Who did this to you?”

Chat froze, glancing around the area nervously, like he was searching for something.

“I… I… I gotta go,” he said in a rush, extending his staff to help him stand.

Marinette frowned in surprise. “Wait! What are you doing??”

“I can’t stay here,” he insisted, limping away from the wall and aiming to vault to the top of the building.

“What?! Why??” she demanded, rushing to stand in front of him.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t get you involved. Please, go home, it could be dangero- AUGH!” He bit down on a pained cry, clutching his injured torso. He panted heavily, face twisted in agony. Nevertheless, he continued with his objective as he tried to walk around Marinette.

She pulled him back before he could flee. “No! Stop! You’re in no condition to go anywhere! We need to get you some help!”

“Mar–Mademoiselle, please…” he said, his eyes pleading. “Forget we ever met. You might be in danger if you’re seen with me.”

Marinette stood her ground and firmly walked him back towards the wall, gripping the top of his staff with her other hand in defiance.

“NO,” she repeated emphatically.

Chat faltered, and exhaustion seemed to catch up to him all at once. His eyes became glazed and he swayed forward, head spinning. His legs buckled and he sagged against her with a pained groan. Marinette caught him and managed to ease him down to the ground, where she held him close, wrapping her arms around him to lend him her warmth.

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards. “Heh, you’re stubborn. I like that.”

Cheeky, her eyes squinted in slight amusement.

“I’m not the only one,” she countered, giving him a small smile.

He looked at her with a soft expression on his face, gently placing his hand on top of hers. “You’re also really sweet.” Marinette could feel her face heat up despite herself.

Before either could say anything more, his ring beeped.

Chat shifted in surprise, but his wounded side twitched in painful protest. He clutched it tightly with his other arm, hissing in distress. Marinette winced and drew him closer, trying to offer a small measure of comfort. She could feel his body trembling.

“C-could you do something for me?” Chat asked apprehensively, voice cracking.

Marinette blinked, somewhat stunned. “Of course,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper.

He bit his lip, eyes glistening. “Will you… will you please tell her that I’m sorry?” he croaked out, voice full of regret and sadness. “That I didn’t mean to leave her?”

Marinette’s stomach felt like it was being squeezed into a vice. Fear gripped her and she clutched him desperately. “Chat, NO! You’re going to be fine!! Stay with me!”

Chat squeezed her hand and murmured with difficulty, “I’m so sorry, Marinette. For everything.”

Then he slipped into unconsciousness.

[geimei]

do you have a guide on how exactly to get into the geimai scene? as in become a fan and understand things? i’m very interested but the terms are confusing and i’m lost in general but i’ve seen pictures on your blog and everyone looks so beautiful !

Aww, that’s really sweet of you, I’m so happy that you’re so interested! It was very overwhelming to me at the beginning, too, and I think it is for everyone, so take your time and don’t feel like you’re stupid if you can’t remember everything in just a few weeks.

A great way to get some basic knowledge on Geimaiko in a more fun and easy way is to watch documentaries! Here is a list of a few that I have watched and that are accurate (at least for the most important parts, minor inconsistencies are acceptable):

Geisha Girl by the BBC (2005): It tells the story of Yukina on her way to becoming Maiko and later Geiko Kikuyuu. It shows most of her Shikomi-stage and later her Misedashi.

History of Geisha: I don’t know if the name is accurate, but it’s a documentary by the NHK, which usually make great documentaries about Geimaiko. They were allowed to shoot at the Kaden Okiya in Miyagawacho, and it shows interviews with okaasan Koito and retired Geiko Korin and the still active Geiko Koume as Maiko. It also talks about the history of the profession, as the name suggests.

Beautiful Kyoto: Being a Maiko: A short, but very sweet one, as it mainly shows interviews with now retired Maiko Fukunae (Shigemori Okiya) of Miyagawacho, and Geiko Kofuku also makes an appearance.

Begin Japanology: Maiko and Geiko: Again, produced by the NHK, this is a really great one, and Begin Japanology is a really cool programme in general. This is a documentary meant for those who don’t know anything about Geisha yet, so it’s a great place to start. Japanology Plus’ episode on Geisha in other parts of the country is also worth a look!

Real Geisha Real Women (2009): I don’t like the man behind this documentary very much, but the documentary itself is pretty decent, albeit not of the highest production quality. It features Geiko Miehina, her okaasan Harutomi, Geiko Umechika and several others, and consists mainly of interview-type scenarios.

Gion - A Tale of Love and Honor: This is a really great and relatively new one, it’s from 2017. It focuses on the now retired 8th generation proprietress of the Tomiyo Ochaya, one of Kyoto’s oldest and most renowned teahouses. It shows the inner workings of the ochaya, and the succession process of the ochaya from Kimi to her daughter Naomi, who is now the 9th generation proprietress. But it also shows many interviews with Maiko and Geiko (Makino and Mao in particular).

Face to Face - Yachiyo Inoue: Tradition in Full Bloom: This one doesn’t focus on Maiko and Geiko, but on the head of Gion Kobu’s dance school, Yachiyo Inoue V., so it might be interesting for further background knowledge.

Other than that, I have a list of all of Kyoto’s active Geimaiko’s Misedashi and Erikae dates, and a list of their okiya affiliation. @missmyloko also has one, but her’s are sorted by kagai. In general, I would recommend going through her tabs, she has so much useful information on her blog! She has tabs on the kamon currently in use in Kyoto, book reviews on books about Maiko and Geiko, a glossary with explanations on the most important terms, a calendar of recurring events, a tab dedicated to the outfits of Maiko and Geiko and much more. I also have some tabs on my blog, but I really need to do some work on them ^^’.