#chapter 16 why must you be difficult

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

How Gaz measures the passage of time

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 4/?

PART 1 , PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Thanks to your support, I am so committed to this. When I finish this, I plan to make it into a long, proper, one-shot- better format and everything!

I've been doing these chapters in the middle of work lmao, so if you see a typo or some edits, it's me rereading it after work.

I'm trying to include more Alastor but he's pretty hard to write.

I used Velvette so much here cos I love her as that bitch you love to hate. She is obviously the spokesperson of the Vees

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The hotel lobby is filled with unbearable silence as hell's overlords and high members of the Ars Goetia arrive one by one.

Just a few hours ago, Alastor heard from Carmila Carmine that the king had called a meeting for the top ruling people of hell. Charlie doesn't know why her dad called for it in the hotel.

The Ars Goetia (minus Stolas) were whispering among themselves and shooting the sinner overlords dirty looks every now and again. The overlords were good at pretending they couldn't hear anything. Apparently, they at least have the sense to know that that would be a fight they cannot win.

The hotel's residents collectively claimed it as their spot. Husk is talking with Angel quietly, keeping him distracted and out of view of Valentino, Vaggie is holding her spear as she keeps a close eye on the strangers in their home, Nifty is obsessively cleaning a corner of the bar (Husk keeps telling her that it is still dirty just so she won't venture elsewhere), and Cherri is playing with an unlit bomb in her hand.

Rosie and Stolas decided to approach Charlie and Alastor at the bar at the same time, both slightly bowed to her.

Charlie: Prince Stolas. Rosie.

Stolas: Hello, princess.

Charlie: How's Octavia?

Stolas: Via misses your outings together. But she is fine. She's with her mother today.

Rosie: Not that I'm not happy to see ya, Alastor. But why exactly are we here? Our Carmila has not stated a reason why.

Alastor: You know as much as me, my dear.

Stolas: It must be dire. His majesty rarely calls for the Goetia's presence. He is not here yet?

Charlie: No. He went down in Sloth earlier. I'm worried. After what happened yesterday, I..

Rosie: Yesterday? Did something happen, sweetie?

Charlie realizes the slip up and backtracks.

Charlie: Nothing, Rosie!

Rosie gives her a look that tells her they're going to be talking about it later. She gives the overlord a weak thumbs up.

Meanwhile, Velvette decides enough is enough and they have wasted too much time waiting.

Velvette: Ugh! Vois, let's go. This is a fuckin' joke.

Carmila: Velvette, calm yourself.

Valentino: Why should she? I had very important shit to shoot today and me being here is making me lose money.

Alastor: Then perhaps you should step down. Having to attend the bare minimum duty of their title must be so difficult for someone so... undeserving.

The Radio Demon has a giant patronizing grin plastered on his face. Alastor's comment prompted Vox to speak up.

Vox: Oh, you timely piece of shit! Fight us right now, Alastor!

Alastor: How unbecoming. Throwing tantrums in front of royalty!

Velvette: I for one, don't want to sit here waiting for a no-show fossil

Charlie's demon side flares as the demon insults her dad.

Charlie: How fucking dare you?!

Random Goetia: You shall know better than to disrespect your king, insolent pest.

Velvette: Ha! You think we're scared of a bunch of birds?

Alastor: Should have known you three cannot behave for a simple meeting haha!

Soon everyone was yelling obscenities at each other, filling the hotel with chaos. Before a proper fight could break out, the door opens with a bang, silencing every demon.

Lucifer has arrived, following him were the other Sins. They were arguing amongst themselves from behind him. Charlie can only catch glimpses of what is being said as voices overlap each other.

Beelzebub: Bel-

Mammon: Are you fuckin-

Satan: Wrath is-

Leviathan: We cannot-

Asmodeus: Evacuation-

Belphegor: Grown another mile-

Lucifer says nothing the entire time and just takes a seat in the middle of the semi-circle table he conjured up. With the way the table was placed in front of everyone else, Charlie gets the feeling of deja vu of her hearing in heaven. But now her dad will be the one passing judgment.

Most of the sinners in the room back up as the Sins continue to argue with their full form.

Lucifer sits back and raises a hand and the yelling stops.

Back then, she never really understood why demons were afraid of her dad. He was always a silly and happy guy when spending time with her. But one time, she sneaks into his rare meetings with the Sins and sees why he was called the devil.

The anger she saw then could have given her Uncle Satan a run for Uncle Mammon's money.

Lucifer: Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I will cut to the chase. I have called you all here because something is brewing at the very depths of hell. Something that may affect us all.

Stolas: The Ars Goetia is at your disposal, sire. But may I ask what is this about?

Belphegor: I can answer that. A few months ago, an anomaly appeared at the edge of Sloth. It was not a problem until-

She pressed her touchpad and a hologram screen appeared showing the infected ground.

Not a single demon didn't widen their eyes.

Angel: What the fuck is that?

Belphegor: We wouldn't have called you all here if it was not this severe.

She taps and shows a mutilated demon pig.

Belphegor: This is Patient Zero. An animal on a nearby farm made contact with the anomaly. It instantly infected the whole body, controlling the creature whilst killing it slowly. If it can affect an animal like this, we fear what it may do to-

Velvette: And what do you expect us to do about it exactly? Why the fuck would we care about some old place we can't even go to.

Belphegor is briefly stunned by the interruption but ignores the sinner's disrespect.

Belphegor: Because you would have to be naive to think that it will stop in Sloth. We cannot be too careful.

Velvette: So you think we would risk our lives? Yeah. No thanks. How do we even know that it will affect us? It's just a pig. The worst we can get is horrible floor decor.

Lucifer stands up and moves silently towards the middle for everyone to see.

Lucifer: Free will does not mean you are free from consequences.

The king starts to remove his shirt to everyone's panic, except Belphegor.

Mammon: Woah woah, mate. The fuck ya doin?

Lucifer shrugs off the last piece of clothing to reveal the glowing, infected marks. It has not been a day since he touched it but the veins are already covering the entire right half of his torso.

Charlie: Dad!

The princess attempts to go to her father's side but Vaggie holds her back.

Lucifer: Shall we proceed without any more interruptions?

---------------------------------------------

What to look forward to in Part 5:

the rest of the meeting

more dialogue from the other Sins. Cannot decide what personality to give to Leviathan.

My HC for Satan is he's like one of those old butler types but has a jacked body (I know he has that workout app, but I'm leaning more of the liver king type of a gentle strongman with anger issues. I don't want him to be a fuckboy gymbro)

more badass lucifer

the Vees getting scolded like the children they are

[strangerscallmegray]

Are we the same?

Hello guys, I hope you like this. I was out looking for Joel Miller x son!reader fics and I could find very little male reader or GN reader fics and so I impulsively decided to create this series. I hope you will like it. The first chapter is going to be exploring Joel's PoV. I'm new here so I don't understand much, hopefully I'll learn along with you.

So, the thing is I have not seen the last of us, it is just recently that I discovered the fanfics and I really liked them, I'm going to watch it soon. So, I apologize for any timeline discrepancy as well as factual errors that might be there in the story lolol.

------- x --------

Joel had a difficult relationship with his son. It was not that Joel did not love him, no, he did, he immensely loved the kid, how could he not? He was his son. You were the last remaining person from his family. The life and family he had had before everything went to shit. But there was a distance between you and Joel, one that Joel deeply lamented. It started after Sarah died. Joel felt like you blamed him for what had happened. You had always been a loving older brother to Sarah and losing her broke you too, you were never quite the same and he couldn’t say he was either.

Joel watched as you went outside the house after the latest argument you had had. Arguments were not uncommon between the two of you. It was simple, Joel still felt you were too young to be going on patrols with him. Whereas you felt you had never been more ready and to see Tess take your side had been heartbreaking for Joel. Tess would not forget the look of betrayal that had etched onto his face when she had done that. Tess had later given him a lecture saying if he wanted his son then he’d have to let him do what he wants to do even if that included danger. Joel had cried out in anger then saying that he’d rather have his son alive and hate him than dead. He and Tess had needed a lot of time to recover from that. He had already lost one child and he was not planning to lose another any time soon. Now, since Joel did not have a say in what you wanted to do, he put his everything into training you. He wanted to teach you everything he knew so that you could survive even if he is not there. He was very proud of you and how far you had come. You never complained when it came to training, even if you had arguments with your dad, sparring sessions were a must, even if it just helped in releasing pent-up frustration.

Joel was sometimes very harsh with you and he knows that. It was because maybe he got so lost when he lost Sarah that he forgot he had another person depending on him. Some days the guilt consumes him and the others he feels like you need the rigidity to make yourself better, that it is what you seek from him. Tess had told him many times that his harshness might reflect negatively on you since you were only 16. Sometimes he thought that surely Sasha must be rolling in the grave over what kind of a father he had become. A memory flashed through this head.

“This is a waste of time, they’ll have finished turning you by the time you get back up from the ground.” He said.

You were panting having fallen on the ground. “I am…..trying.” you said in between of breaths.

“Not like that you are not, the only thing you are trying to do right now is getting yourself killed, if that was your mission, congratulations, you succeeded.”

You had glared at him, still not getting up, “What the hell is your damn problem with me!?” you had shouted and stood up walking up to your dad. “You can see I’m trying, we only started practicing a week back and Tess says I’m doing good, why do you always have to be so critical of me as if I can never be any good?”

“I don’t know what Tess has been seeing, all I am seeing is that it was a mistake allowing a 14-year-old out on patrols.” Joel had said. He couldn’t understand why he was being so unnecessarily harsh.

Tears stung your eyes as you said, “I will prove you wrong Dad, I will be the best hunter you’ve ever seen.” You had said and walked away.

And you were most definitely the best that Joel had seen, he just failed to communicate it to you. He wished he had been more understanding back then.

Then, then came Ellie, the kid who reminded him too much of Sarah, the kid full of life and so opposite from both him and you. In the beginning he didn’t know how to act around her but slowly he warmed up to her. She was not replacing Sarah, nobody could replace his Sarah ever but Ellie was not Sarah, Ellie was Ellie and that was why he had grown to care for her and he knew he had grown paternal towards her. He had seen the way you interacted with Ellie too, you had never held something she didn’t even know against her. You had even taught her a couple of things and his heart swelled with happiness whenever he saw that. An emotion he was sure he would never feel again.

“Is he your son?” She had asked pointing towards you who was standing with the group explaining something to them.

“Yes.” He had said, short and crisp, he didn’t want to discuss it and he hoped she’d get the hint. She did not.

“Then why is he on patrols? He doesn’t seem that much older.” She looked curiously.

He had looked at her and glared “Why don’t you ask him the same then maybe even I will know.”

And after that, it felt the most normal than ever in Jackson, but he just wished he could mend his relationship with his son. He wished you would stop looking at everything he did for you in negative light and stop seeing him as the enemy.

Soo, I hope you liked that, let me know what you think. The next chapter will be your PoV.

[noroi1000]

❝𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮-𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐢❞ Chapter 16

Satoru-Sensei | ←Previous chapter • Next Chapter→ Summary: The fact that you had a teacher-student relationship didn't matter now. You are both adults. You can do what you want. Whenever you want and every thing that comes to your mind. The truth is that many important things cannot be hidden behind a flimsy lie. Gojo couldn't hide things for long by speaking out about such things. A mysterious man whose behavior can be described as full of lies, and something worth discovering for the truth. Someone wise will notice this too quickly. Sometimes being smart also means foolishness.

"What's wrong, Fushiguro? I didn't expect you would want to talk to us. You never talk to us..." the pink-haired man muttered as he sat on the table instead of the chair. 

He was happy to be able to sit in the same seat he had sat in two years ago. 

"He's probably jealous that we talk to our kohai more often than to him." the brunette laughed, sitting elegantly on a chair with her longer skirt falling freely. 

She always had to be elegant. Especially when she discovered that elegance in a woman like her is seen as an ideal. She considered herself strong and beautiful. So she must be just as elegant.  Especially after she met Mei Mei. She became her idol because she can't deny that this woman maintains class even during a fight. 

Itadori didn't take anything like he always should. He acted the same as always. His movements during friendly encounters were erratic. And he didn't care what he looked like now. 

Fushiguro was the only person who tried to act as if something had really happened. 

Because something happened! There is nothing here that is absolutely normal...

A person who was supposedly dead for two years suddenly appears before his eyes... 

You were never bold. You would never be in a relationship with Gojo! You two were completely incompatible with each other! He was loud, and sometimes obnoxious! You were quiet and shy. 

Because of your personality, you were definitely suppressed by him. Because he's definitely louder than you. More open and wild. 

What he saw... Where and how you were together... That's all... It didn't look like a student-teacher relationship. 

Is it because he is no longer your teacher and you are also an adult?

Did he make you do it? 

You certainly knew how good it would be for you and for others. 

Surely you also saw his different behavior toward you. He cared about you more than anyone else. He was much closer.

Did he blackmail you to stay with him? 

Gojo is a selfish man sometimes. Is he doing everything to keep you for him? Was he worried about you? 

Was he worried that he would lose another person?

Fushiguro learned the truth about Gojo Satoru's school years. He lost a loved one. 

Maybe he saw someone close to you and decided to take you away from the world so as not to lose you?

This man is definitely crazy!

He hurt you like that!

He took you away from your parents and your friends!

What was he thinking?!

The dark-haired man had to think about what happened. He had to take it all seriously. All! Now there is no mistake. 

All the tips he got... It all led him to the truth. 

They must reason with Gojo and take you away before it's too late!

You will return to your family and your normal life. 

Gojo cannot like a madman hold you, not at your will, for your safety!

He wants you there because he doesn't want to lose someone close to him. And when you are only with him for the rest of your life, you will never leave him. 

It's all so difficult...

You can't say no to him. That's why this is the biggest problem. You are with him because you are unable to refuse him...

"If you act like idiots, I won't tell you anything, and I'll do everything myself..." He said it with a serious face. 

And because of this expression on his face, the other two didn't know whether he had his normal face or whether he was really serious and thinking about this important matter. 

"Is this more important than the fact that we ate your chicken for dinner?" Itadori asked with his hand slightly raised in the air. 

A characteristic vein appeared on Fushiguro's forehead, threatening to make him explode with rage and start screaming at them for losing his food because of them. 

But instead, he sighed. 

He let out an exasperated sigh that surprised them enough that they really wondered what had happened to make their friend so serious.

"I know you won't believe me right away, but (l/n) is alive." he said suddenly.

Their eyes looked at him questioningly, and they stared in disbelief. 

"If she were alive, she would have appeared two years ago," the girl said calmly, resting her cheek on her fist.

"She couldn't show up." 

"Where did you think you saw her?" Itadori asked with a curious face. 

"With Gojo..."

"Huh? Gojo-sensei is on mission!"

"I thought so too... But I found the coordinates in his house... There was a photo of the beach. It was a small island near Japan. Hokusei saw that Gojo was texting a mysterious girl who had no name on his phone. And he called her 'Ashamed-chan'. So this is it..." 

" 'Ashamed-chan'? I heard it once..." Itadori placed his fingers on his chin. 

"Gojo said that to (l/n) several times. Do you remember his behavior around her? They were close."

"Are you suggesting something? That our shy (l/n) was in a relationship with our Sensei?" Kugisaki laughed lightly. 

"I suspect so. Either they are in a relationship or he is forcing her into a relationship. And she is with him because there is no one else there."

"You can't accuse her of something like that." She snorted.

"I saw them in bed. They–."

"You pervert! You can't spy on a woman in bed! Look at naked men as much as you want! But don't you dare spy on women!"

"Kugisaki, shut up." he growled. "Don't be so loud. I don't want anyone to hear. And also.... I've seen them in bed, but they don't do what you think to. They acted like a couple. And there's no way I could ever mistake Gojo's or (l/n)'s face..."

"Oh... That's right..." the pink-haired one muttered.

You were like Tsumiki to Fushiguro. 

Innocent, kind, and gullible. You were sweet. But somehow you were different from her in your shyness and quietness.

"I still don't believe you. It could have been anyone! Gojo's girlfriend might just be like her..."

"(h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes.” 

"Ohh... Or maybe it really was her..." She whispered. "But if she could be alive, why did she do this to us and not tell us?! We mourned her every year!”

"I think Gojo forced her to do it."

"No... That's not right! I won't believe you until I see it with my own eyes!" She screamed, almost in tears. 

"I need help saving her anyway. I'll take you there, and we'll help her."

   The white-haired man's back was leaning against the wall next to the door.

His head was positioned slightly upwards as he placed the back of his head on the wall. His eyes are focused on the corner where the ceiling meets the wall.

Mouths are freely closed. Calm facial expression. 

A straight face.

And under this simple face, there is a confusion of thoughts and emotions. 

What Megumi said... He had to protect you now.

The world is not safe for you. Especially now that someone found out you're alive.

Now there's no point in hiding anymore...

When they come, he will show them what they want to see. 

He smiled slightly...

"Megumi-kun... You were always a smart kid. But..."

Taglist: @mc-reborn ; @yihona-san06 ; @yerinsshi ; @erisfayred ; @tohsri

[sebastianswallows]

A new family — Chapter 5

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: just Marvolo being a nasty boy. I tried to keep him accurate, and he's probably the worst character I've ever written.

— WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16

Her hand went instinctively to the wand in her skirt pocket, but Marvolo stepped forward slowly, casually, throwing on a bemused smile. The doors closed behind him as if from a draft.

There was little in him that reminded her of Ominis. The high cheekbones and full lips were there, but his hair was dark and duller, his brows bullish thick, and his body was more broad. Although clothed quite finely in a gentleman’s suit, grey with black pinstripes, he moved in an uncouth manner, rough and lumbering and careless, if not outright uncivil.

“I wasn’t aware we were having guests,” he said, his brown eyes distastefully tracking her up and down before settling on her own. His voice was flat and low. It moved like something buried beneath mud. “Although you don’t seem like the sort of person that would be welcome here.”

She immediately hated him. She had heard of him throughout the years by Ominis, although not too much as it was, understandably, difficult for him to talk about his family in detail. She’d seen his pictures around the house as well, a few moving photographs and paintings, and he made himself unpleasant in each one, arrogant and egotistical and proud. And not only was he was as repulsive as his parents, but he’d been party to many of the torments inflicted on her dear Ominis.

She placed the parcel on the coffee table, almost in defiance, and smoothed her hands down her skirt. “I wasn’t aware yours was a welcoming family,” she said coolly.

“It isn’t,” he laughed, coming around to plop himself down on the sofa without even asking for her name. He crossed his legs and sat back, his arms spanning across its backrest almost from one end to another. “Which is why I wonder how you got here. You seem to have made yourself… comfortable,” he said, his eyes going down her figure once again. He might have noted the quality of the robes which she had bought with Ominis, or the dragon-skin boots she wore. His eyes, inevitably, fell to the gift-wrapped package on the table. “I can, of course, think of only one culprit,” grinned Marvolo.

“Is that so?”

“Where is my baby brother?”

“He’s your brother. How would I know?” she said, slowly stepping back.

“I only ask,” he shrugged, “because since I’ve got here I haven’t seen hide nor hair of mother and father, and you’re nothing like sissy’s friends.”

“Perhaps they’ve all gone out.”

His eyes flashed suspiciously up at her. He must have been thinking she was an interloper, or a thief, or worse… She had said nothing to discourage that opinion, of course, but she did not particularly care either way. She hated Marvolo, and didn’t intend to hide it.

“Yes, they must be out there somewhere, draining the family coffers… Am I right?”

Ah, so Ominis withdrawing funds from their account must have tipped him off. Perhaps even one of the Gringotts goblins told him about it. From across the distance, she could feel Sebastian laugh and say ‘I told you so’.

“I don’t know anything about that —”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? What’s… this?” he said in one breath, leaning forward mid-sentence to pick up the little parcel. He held it to his ear and shook it to guess what was inside.

She took a few steps to the side and sat down on one of the armchairs by the fire, stretching out her legs as she lay almost on her side lazily.

“It’s a gift,” she said, “but not for you.”

“For someone special, is it?” Mavolo grinned, leaning back with it still in his hands. “Enough chitchat. Where’s Ominis?”

“You don’t care.”

“No, I don’t, but tell me anyway.” He looked around the room with a critical eye, suddenly humourless. “I know something odd has happened. I can smell it.”

Her eyes narrowed and she cocked a brow. A sliver of Legilimency told her the truth was slightly different.

“Someone told you.”

“Oh,” he laughed boomingly, “you caught me.”

“The house-elves?”

Marvolo scoffed. “Simpering vermin. No, it was the serpents that live on our grounds. Dug one out of his burrow and a nice long chat. Interesting little fellow. Didn’t recall seeing my family for many moons, although you and Ominis are known to take frequent walks lately…” His eyes glinted with satisfaction, no doubt feeling boastful about his special ability.

“Well then, perhaps the snakes can tell you where Ominis has gone. I certainly can’t.”

“I see he’s done nothing creative with the place,” said Marvolo, making a show of casting his eyes around. “Bought a distasteful little muggle device and littered the place with books, but aside from that… Not exactly an improvement. Even though father’s been gone for… how long, now?”

She shrugged. In truth, she didn’t know for certain how long it had been. “I have no idea what, if anything, has happened to him.”

“I suppose Ominis didn’t have the heart to tell me our beloved parents went ‘missing’. An owl would have been nice, you know… That or he didn’t have the courage to try to make me disappear as well.”

“Ominis has done nothing of the sort. He’s —”

“I thought you said you didn’t know,” he smirked. “So how do you know he’s innocent?”

“If anyone’s to be suspected of something, it’s you,” she said, leaning forward. “After all, I certainly can’t verify what the snake told you, can I?”

“Ah yes, you’re a mudblood. How could you possibly?”

“For all I know, you’re the —”

“Let me guess. I’m the big bad villain, am I? Why? Because I didn’t spoil your little cripple? Because I didn’t give in to his tantrums and melodramas? He was always so disgusting, the little milk-eye… Such an embarrassment. You have no idea what it’s like to have someone like that born in the family. A burden to be dragged about.”

“You really are vile.”

“Do you think,” he continued, leaning forward to brace his thick arms on his knees, “that your scrawny little boyfriend —”

“— He’s not my boyfriend.”

“— didn’t bring his misfortunes on himself? I think he relished it, as a matter of fact… He loved the attention. It was the only thing he had to contribute, after all. No magical talent, no interest in anyone other than himself, no respect for his own family who made him and raised him in the lap of luxury.”

“You call what you did to him ‘luxury’?!”

“Any other wizard would’ve given an arm and a leg to be born into this noble family. No, Ominis wants to be pitied… It is the only way he can stand out. But I know better. So do mother and father — or at least, they did.”

Her sprawl in the armchair turned more into a coiling, like an angry snake ready to strike, but she kept her jaw shut — clenched, in fact — and let Marvolo’s words wash over her. She burned to defend Ominis, but it was clearly a lost cause. Marvolo spoke as if he believed every word, as if he thought Ominis deserved all the nasty things his family inflicted upon him… She’d met people like that before, usually on the other end of her wand. There was no reasoning with them.

“You are convinced they are dead,” she said coolly. “And yet between you and Ominis, you seem to be the one fond of Unforgivables. Only further leads me to believe you killed them, and have come here to try to pin it on him before the Ministry hears of it.”

“Me?” he laughed. “Why would I hurt my own blood?”

“You need money, correct? All those gambling dens in London must be clamouring to get their dues…” she smirked.

In passing, she knew from Ominis about Marvolo’s stay in London, and his squandering habits. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together…

Marvolo leaned back and smirked, not even attempting to deny it.

“I’ll just remind you that I’m not the only one in this family who is, as you so feebly put it, fond of the Unforgivables.”

“You forced Ominis to use them!”

“You believe everything that blind fool tells you?”

“He’s not a —”

“Although I must admit, pretty girls like you tend not to be very clever. Am I right?”

“Your compliments are as banal as your insults.”

“Come, now,” he chuckled, finally standing up and throwing the parcel back on the sofa. “You’re not as picky as all that, are you?”

With his distinctive heavy steps, hands stuffed in his pockets, Marvolo made his way around the room and vaguely toward her. She could now see that he was leaving mud trails everywhere he went, likely leaving it for the elves to deal with.

“After all,” he shrugged, “if you’ve set up here with that pale bat, your standards must be through the floor.”

“You don’t even care about what happened to your parents, admit it. You’re just upset Ominis is living his life outside of your malign influence.”

“So is that why he’s been dripping the account dry? My account, my inheritance?” he asked, coming slowly closer. “To pay for you? To buy you nice things — although, that piece, I must say,” he tutted and shook his head as he looked her up and down, “not particularly fitting. Guess he must’ve chosen it himself.”

Her fingers itched to curse him, but then Marvolo went by and past her, walking toward the right side of the room. She turned and kept him in her sights as he strolled, completely confident, with his back toward her. Slowly, she rose to her feet and faced him, keeping the armchair between them, ready to duck if tried to take out his wand. She suspected it was either up his sleeve or in his pocket.

“Is that the only reason you’re here?” she asked. “Because you noticed some galleons missing?”

“No,” he said, still looking around. “I’m here because I have yet to receive my annual invitation to father’s special Modranicht feast. Ominis wouldn’t know, he was never invited. It takes… a special pair of eyes to appreciate that celebration,” he grinned, winking at her from over his shoulder.

She glared at him but said nothing. She vaguely knew about the festival, something ancient that used to take place around Christmas Eve. It was supposed to be a celebration of motherhood, although she didn’t want to think of how the Gaunts observed it. The stains down in the dungeon flashed in her memory for a split second.

“Perhaps you have fallen out of your father’s favour,” she said.

Marvolo only laughed and turned his back to her again. His gaze fell to the glass cabinet, and he stepped closer to observe it.

“It is true, though,” he drawled. “I have been a bit of a villain. Not that Ominis didn’t deserve it. He’s never stood up for himself… Not against me, not against mother or father — who, to be fair, is rather terrifying — not even against sissy. I suppose that makes him the family ‘sissy’, doesn’t it?” he laughed. “Which makes me wonder what you’re doing with him.”

“I told you, I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure,” he nodded, looking at her again. “Only wearing his gifts and spending my money and living for months in my house!” said Marvolo, his voice rising with each word until he was shouting at her. His tone changed so quickly from the mocking laughter to the furious rage that it gave her whiplash. “If whoring yourself to a Gaunt is how you pay for your school supplies, so be it,” he said, his tone gentle again. “But you won’t do it on my galleons. Now, you little whore, for the last time: what happened to my father?”

“I’m not your little whore, and I have no idea what befell your father. Since he is supposed to be such a marvellous wizard, I’m sure nothing bad could possibly happen to him.”

“That’s right,” he nodded. “Not from a weakling like Ominis.”

His face turned one last time toward the cabinet and he frowned, noticing that something was off about the display but not being able to tell what.

“Regardless,” Marvolo continued, starting to walk back to her, “just tell me where he is and I’ll take it up with him, brother-to-brother, if not man-to-man.”

“I told you, I don’t know where he is.”

His dark eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as he stalked toward her. “It wouldn’t do to ruin those good looks by lying to me.”

“She told the truth,” came Ominis’ voice. Just then, the fireplace burst green and the flames grew large, dying swiftly to reveal his figure. He was dressed in a long warm cloak, his hands hidden beneath its folds. “But not to worry, Marvolo. Here I am. Now,” he said, stepping out of the fireplace, “I understand you’re looking for our family?”

“Oh, welcome back!” he clapped. “Off to bury their corpses, were you?”

“Oh no,” he said calmly, “I would never do them that honour.”

[theboywithburninghands]

We’ve reached the day of the wedding. This chapter was a delight to create. Keep an eye out for cameos from characters made by my friends @noble-crimson and @cleoarrow. There’s also an embedded song link to better help you better experience one particular moment. I changed the lyrics though. Enjoy, I sure did. @fernstarsblog

T/W: Era appropriate sexism, discussions of abuse and drug addiction

Primum Peccatum Ch. 16: Like Rain on Your Wedding Day

It was a difficult decision, but Pomni and Altonicus ultimately decided to slow down the tapering process in time for the wedding.

Jax had mostly recovered from the worst of his opium reduction, to the point that he mostly only suffered from cold spells and occasional headaches. Of course, it would become severe again once they went from one drop of laudanum to half a drop. But, when this debacle was over, they could focus on fully getting Jax off of opium once and for all. For now, it was about getting the ceremony over and done with.

Pomni, naturally, told Jax about the encounter with Boone. Every detail. It was, after all, important to communicate in a relationship, so she had heard. She did make an effort to emphasize the fact that Boone was the one who ended up hurt, not her, but that was hardly lying. Journalists would call it “editorializing.” She despised Boone and by no means aimed to protect him, but her fiancé was ill and did not need to aggravate his condition by enacting vengeance on his brother. That would jeopardize both his health and also arouse Drexl’s suspicions, had Boone not already turned stool pigeon and betrayed them…

“He attempted to harm you..?” Jax said. His voice was eerily quiet.

“Yes he did,” Pomni said. “He did not succeed in doing so, and his apology appeared genuine enough… But he did.”

Jax took a deep breath. He closed his eyes in a slow blink, then reopened them.

“Help me to my feet,” he said.

“Do you need the lavatory?” Pomni inquired.

“No. I wish to discuss these events with my brother,” Jax said, pulling his bedclothes aside.

“I assume by ‘discuss,’ you mean ‘beat.’ And I can’t allow you to do that.” Pomni said.

“And why not?” Jax asked. His expression was like a hot anvil, unmoving and silent, but radiating palpable energy.

“For once thing, in your present state, you’d be trounced,” Pomni replied. “You have difficulty even standing without my assistance at the moment. I think I could even defeat you as you are now.”

Pomni smiled thinly.

“That was a joke. But the other reason is, you’d be walking right into the lion pit. Boone is at your father’s, and I assume your brother won’t hesitate to cower behind him. What if he reveals the truth of your withdrawals right there? There would be no way to avoid your father’s wrath, and who knows what that dragon is capable of when truly furious?”

Jax’s shoulders slumped a bit. He looked at the floor for a while before glancing up at Pomni.

“You raise fair points. I suppose Boone eludes the consequences yet again,” he sighed. “You are frightfully calm for what you’ve just endured.”

“Calm? Hardly. Though I may be placid on the surface, I assure you, I am not. If I’ve taken away anything from these past few weeks, apart from my love for you, it’s that I cannot change this country’s poisoned ideals through shouting and the gnashing of teeth. Think of it like a boil; squeezing and picking at it in blind anger will only aggravate the pain, as the infection runs deep beneath the skin. If you truly wish to be rid of the agony, it must be treated with surgical calmness, draining every last drop of bacteria-ridden filth from the wound until it can at last heal and be free of pain. That’s why I seem so calm. I am angry, but impotent flailing has gotten me nowhere. All the energy I would have spent on crying and cursing my lot in life has been spent on you and… the day of the wedding.”

Jax smiled weakly. “Preparations have been made, I assume…”

“Made to the best of my ability, darling,” Pomni said. “We can only hope things will play without too much issue.”

“Pomni,” Jax said. “Do you believe Boone will tell my father?”

“I believe he’s capable of doing so. But I warned him that should he, The Gentleman in Red that saved me will pursue him. I do not know if he believed me. But… you can rest assured that I will be the first line of defense should your father arrive.”

Pomni offered a hand, Jax taking it after a moment.

“Never alone, darling,” Pomni said.

—

All remained silent. It reminded Pomni of the eye of a hurricane, falsely still and bright before the thunder and torrential rain resumed. She occasionally waited until three or four in the morning downstairs in Mr. Kinger’s sitting room some nights, clutching anything heavy that could be used as a weapon. A fire poker, a bread knife, an old Dorvician kukri Kinger picked up on his travels, the blade long since tarnished but quite sharp. She eventually settled on a heavy brass candlestick. It was comfortable enough to keep in her lap while reading but heavy enough to knock someone’s lights out.

On one of these sleepless nights before the wedding, Pomni wrote her vows. To her surprise, it was difficult. Quite difficult, really. Writing what she promised to do was quite easy, anyone could do that. But making it sound genuine and not a cold statement of facts, that was an entirely different beast.

She wrote, then erased, wrote a bit more then erased. She leaned back in her chair and chewed the end of the art pencil she borrowed from Kinger. Pomni thought reading so many romance novels would prepare her for romantic writing, and yet, here she sat, at her wit’s end. She looked over at Jax.

He had managed to get to sleep. He had his arms crossed over his stomach, the book Pomni lent him tucked under one hand. She smiled a bit. He looked… peaceful. He deserved the rest. The two of them had been through so much together and it had only been three weeks… Three weeks? That short an amount of time… it had felt like an eternity.

She paused. Hm. That was a good opening line actually. She wrote it down, the well-oiled cogs of her mind beginning to turn. She continued to write, erasing every now and then, until the page was full. She didn’t need to read it more than once to memorize it. So, she supposed she didn’t need it any longer. She picked up the bit of paper, fully intent on ripping it in two…

She looked at Jax. He slept soundly. She smiled a bit once again. She instead folded up the bit of paper and tucked it into her purse. She might have not needed to read it anymore, but it would be a pleasant keepsake.

—

The day of the wedding arrived, and there had been not a single word from The Krolik Estate. Perhaps Boone had made good on his word after all, but there was little time to dwell on that. Pomni was led out of The Rooker Estate by Zooble, driving the family’s carriage. They helped her onto the passenger’s side of the driver’s bench, flicking the reins. Maple and Juniper flicked their heads, snuffling and heading up the road.

“Well, here we are at last. Are you prepared, Ms. Shutnyk?” Zooble asked.

“…I have prepared. But I am quite nervous.” Pomni said. “…Is it true father intends to sign me over to Krolik International as soon as we go through with the ceremony..?”

“I cannot be certain. He has been very quiet ever since the day Mr. Krolik floated the idea. What you saw the day you tried on your dress was the most he’d spoken before or since.” Zooble replied.

“I see… He’s likely still furious with me. I’m very sorry if it’s made your work more difficult, Zooble.” Pomni said.

“On the contrary,” Zooble almost chuckled. “Your parents have been so wrapped up in your wedding that my job has been rather simple. Merely housekeeping. I’m sure I’ll be back to carrying your mother’s superfluous purchases at the market by tomorrow.”

Pomni laughed a bit, but soon she was back to frowning.

“…Zooble. I wanted to say that… I’ll miss you greatly. You’ve been so kind these past three years. I would hire you on as our caretaker if I had the revenue.”

Zooble looked at Pomni. Their eyes smiled.

“I will miss your company as well, Ms. Shutnyk.” Zooble said. “No matter what course today takes, I hope you’ll stop by every now and then, if not for your parents, at the very least for me.”

Pomni nodded. After they arrived at Lakepoint, decorated with white frills and teeming with guests, some Pomni had never seen before and some she recognized distantly, Pomni threw her arms around her caretaker, who more than happily returned her embrace.

—

The ceremony was set outdoors, just by Falconhurst pond. Citronella candles burned on the edges of the property to ward off mosquitos. Two sets of white wicker chairs were arranged on the lawn behind Lakepoint, the grass meticulously trimmed and cleaned of waterfowl leavings. The guests had been instructed to dress simply, the only stipulation being that one’s outfit must include a blue or red flower, red for women, blue for men. On the left side of the aisle sat Pomni’s family. All of her father’s family was deceased or long forgotten in Telychia, so Mirella’s relatives took up these seats. They were Silurians at heart, outgoing, jovial and talkative, everything Pomni was not. She had hardly met any of them, yet she expected she would be well acquainted with them by the time the wedding was over. She held no grudges against them, but sincerely hoped they would ask before they touched.

Zooble had a place in the audience beside Mirella in the front row. They wore their usual tuxedo with two flowers, one red and one blue. Mr. Kinger looked quite dapper in his surprisingly well-preserved wedding tuxedo and top hat, although he did smell a touch like moth powder. He wore a blue rose lapel pin, a gift from the Sultanate of Dorvicia for his work on the biology of desert insects.

In the backmost row sat a shapeman in a red tailcoat, his head nothing but a large set of dentures with a pair of Heterochromic eyes. He held a cane in one hand and an empty wine glass in the other, which he occasionally pantomimed sipping from. The other guests found it wise to simply let him alone, as he arrived at the ceremony with an invitation identical to everyone else’s, speaking to no one and keeping his differently-colored eyes squarely on the altar. He wore no flower.

On the right side sat a rainbow of rabbits. Jax’s family, cousins of his from Drexl’s side of the family, as well as his late mother’s, most having arrived from Ediacara and speaking not a word of Hirnantian. A few other beastfolk derived from different animals sat amongst the many-colored crowd. A family of what appeared to be abnormally large deerfolk consisting of a father, his son and his daughter, a lone corvidae woman seated near the back, and two crocodile men, sitting sharply at attention. Old business partners of Drexl’s back in Ediacara, perhaps.

Drexl himself sat in the front row, sentinel-like in a cobalt blue tuxedo. Zuzanna sat on his left side, ghostly and pretty in a delicate pink dress and a red corsage about her wrist. On his right sat his three sons, all in matching black tuxedos and dyed blue roses on their breast pockets, and Kali, hand in hand with Alton in a red dress. She looked radiant, as always. Boone kept his mouth closed, tapping a foot rapidly on the grass. Osvaldo sat up straight, appearing rather nervous but altogether content. Alton looked as pleasant as he always did. Being a doctor, he must have practiced having a pleasant expression to avoid upsetting any patients.

Gangle sat just beside the stage on a rolling plywood platform, playing “Clair de Lune” on Lakepoint’s grand piano. Vladimir and Drexl wheeled the instrument out to the stage earlier that morning. Though Drexl could have done so on his own, given his mighty stature, Vladimir insisted that he aid him in some way, so was instructed to hold the piano steady on the platform as Drexl pushed it.

Sister Ragatha approached the stage. It was decorated with a white trellis backdrop and a wreath made from ivy vines and a bouquet of red and blue flowers. She wore her usual gray habit, the hood down and her bright red curls hanging free. A rose of matching hue was pinned to her chest. She put her hands on the pulpit, opening The Gray Accord to the appropriate passage, and smiled out to the crowd.

“Good morning, everyone,” she said, the murmur of conversation coming to a halt, Gangle taking her ribbons off the keys and placing them in her lap. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of two wonderful young souls in marriage. Though they only met recently, Ms. Pomni Annabelle Shutnyk and Mr. Jax Bazyli Krolik have become an inseparable duo.

“In fact, you all should know that Mr. Krolik almost caught his death of flu two weeks ago. Ms. Shutnyk has remained vigilantly by his side every single day since, nursing him back to health and keeping him company through the most difficult of the symptoms. That is the kind of pure and dedicated love The Allfather aimed to instill in all beings from our inception.”

Boone appeared to shift a bit in his seat. The Gentleman in Red notably looked away from the stage to focus on Boone, and the beastman was still again. The Gentleman kept his eyes upon Boone a moment longer before looking back to Ragatha.

“I think it prudent to read a passage from The Gray Accord that discusses love. It’s a passage that has certainly inspired my own path towards enlightenment as a Gray Sister, and one that I hope will inspire Mr. and Mrs. Krolik’s union. Ahem…

“‘Love is the single most malleable emotion The Allfather gave to us. It guides us towards The Hereafter like a beacon of light, teaching us to seek the ones who bring us the most happiness and to forgive our enemies. But it can so easily be distorted into jealousy and obsession, or worse, corrupted and turned to mad hatred. That is what a true celebrant of The Allfather should strive for, this pure and soft love, as it will surely guide one to Him.’ Book 2, Verse 9.

“I wholeheartedly believe that the union that has formed so quickly between these two is a sign of this ideal love The Accord speaks of. Though drawn together by financial necessity rather than fate, these two young souls will foster a relationship that will endure through the ages. And I consider it a tremendous honor to deliver them into each other’s arms. Everyone stand, please.”

The crowd rose to their feet, Osvaldo getting up and exiting. Drexl made a move to put a paw on his shoulder, not being fast enough, and watched his second son disappear into Lakepoint with fiery eyes. Zuzanna hurried to his side and whispered in his ear. Drexl listened with a frown and shook his head, but appeared to acquiesce, waving a paw. Zuzanna smiled and followed after Osvaldo.

Ragatha looked over to Gangle, who nodded at the Gray Sister, furling and unfurling her ribbons before putting them to the ivory keys and beginning to play “Gymnopedie No. 1.” Not quite as grand as a church organ, but no one could be asked to move that behemoth.

Jax Krolik emerged from the back entrance of Lakepoint, dressed in an immaculate black tuxedo, custom made extra wide loafers and a bow-tie. On his breast was a dyed blue rose. Although he had dark lines beneath his eyes and his fur wasn’t quite groomed to perfection, he wore his signature wide Cheshire smile and carried himself with an air of pride. Zuzanna walked alongside him, arm in arm. She held her own head up rather high. She was the only woman who could serve as his escort after all, it was a high honor for a housekeeper such as herself.

The audience watched him approach with encouraging smiles. Some of his relatives gasped, having not seen him since he was a toddler. Alton and Kali beamed and waved. Drexl bore a faint smile. Boone made eye contact with his youngest brother and quickly averted it.

Zuzanna stopped at the altar and smiled at Jax.

“Jestem z ciebe dumny,” she said, kissing him softly on the forehead.

“Really now Zuzanna…” Jax said with a wave of his paw. He walked up the altar and nodded to Sister Ragatha, who offered her congratulations.

Gangle added a bit of flourish to her playing as she began The Wedding March, the section even children on the playground could hum along to. Everyone turned again to the back of the aisle and were greeted by the sight of the bride herself.

Pomni stood beside her father, in her iridescent feathered dress and clutching a bouquet of red roses. Her veil was thin as early morning vapor. Vladimir walked with her, arm in arm and with a proud grin on his face. Pomni smiled thinly, keeping her gaze firmly on the grass. All those eyes on her. Best not to look. She only exchanged glances with one guest, the nameless Gentleman in Red, who raised his empty glass in a toast. Pomni could be seen mouthing the word “You..?” before moving along down the aisle.

“She’s so pretty…” said one of Jax’s relatives, bright yellow like a blooming daffodil. Pomni felt a hot blush creep across her face, but felt significantly more emboldened, hearing such sweet words from a complete stranger.

Jax himself watched Pomni reverently. She was normally dressed so modestly, seeing her in such a gorgeous dress was a shock to the senses. She looked like a dove, petite and elegant. He blushed.

“Make me proud, lisichka,” Vladimir said, giving his daughter a hug. As she hugged him back rigidly, she made eye contact with Drexl. His affect betrayed no emotion, so Pomni offered none in return.

She ascended the three steps to the altar, placing the bouquet of roses in the awaiting ceremonial vase. Ragatha gave her a radiant smile. Pomni met her groom’s eyes.

“It’s alright,” Jax whispered. “Look anywhere. I won’t be offended.”

Pomni smiled gratefully and looked at the rose pinned to his chest. Roses didn’t bloom blue naturally, they had to be dyed that color. There has been cross-pollination experiments to create a blue rose, but they only ever came out purple- Oh, blazes, where was her mind? Ragatha had begun to speak, the crowd taking their seats.

“-gathered here today to witness the union of two souls in marriage. May The Allfather smile down from The Hereafter on this blessed day. Now, before we begin the vows, in lieu of having a speaker, our couple has requested a small performance from Jax’s brother and best man, Mr. Osvaldo Krolik. May I direct your attention to the grand piano?”

The crowd all turned to the piano. Gangle had risen to her feet as a gray rabbit approached the platform. There was a faint creak of wood from The Krolik side of the audience, like that of someone gripping the seat of their chair hard enough to break it into sawdust. Gangle went to take her seat on the Shutnyk side of the audience as Osvaldo sat at the piano, flexing his paws.

“Good morning. This is an original composition I wrote specifically for my brother and sister-in-law. I hope you’ll enjoy it,” he announced to the crowd, his eyes on no one in particular.

“Here we go…” whispered Jax with a nervous smile. He took hold of Pomni’s hand, and she squeezed his paw in response.

Osvaldo cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a few moments, silently counting himself off and beginning a soft piano melody. He sang a few wordless notes before he began the first verse.

“Would you like to say something before you leave?

Perhaps you’d care to state exactly how you feel?

We said ‘goodbye’ before we said ‘hello…’”

His voice was sweet and elegant, precise as the brushstrokes of a painter. He picked up speed, gaining a small smile.

“I hardly even like you, I shouldn’t care at all…

We met just six hours ago, the music was too loud…

Wed to you? I’d gain a day and lose a bloody year…

But I… Would like to know…”

He tossed his head back and began to sing louder.

“How do you feel, how do you feel?

How do you feel, how do you feel?”

He sang a few more wordless notes, one foot tapping along to the time signature in his head. Most of Pomni’s relatives had leaned in with interest by that point. Music was of great importance to Silurian culture, and Osvaldo had them enchanted. The Gentleman in Red appeared to sing along silently, even though Osvaldo never performed the song for anyone before today.

He continued.

“Not a single word was said, the night still hid our fears…

Occasionally you’d show a smile, my heart skipped a beat…

We met each other far too soon, yet the world seems fresh and bright…

“I see you lying in the sun, I wish that I was there…

Tomorrow brings another sky, another day with you…

Have you time before you leave to greet this lonely man..?

And I… Would like to know…”

He began the second chorus in full swing, everyone in the audience listening intently by this point. The family of deer exchanged looks of wonder, Gangle could be seen nodding her mask in time with the song’s rhythm, and some of Pomni’s relatives were speaking excitedly in Silurian.

The rhythm of the song slowed, Osvaldo’s eyes closed, his performance winding down in time with the music.

“Goodbye to you…

Now I bid adieu…

I’ll… say I love her one dayyy…”

Osvaldo gave a short aria, his piano-playing picking up speed before coming to an abrupt stop. He took a few deep breaths and placed his hands in his lap.

A few moments of silence and the crowd erupted into applause. Pomni’s relatives stood,

clapping and whistling, calling out “Bellissimo!” and “Chiedere un bis!” The Krolik side of the audience had gotten to their feet as well,

Altonicus cheering for his younger brother with Kali, Boone clapping discreetly along with them. Even some of Drexl’s business partners had risen to applaud, the corvidae woman clapping her feathered hands and repeating “Wonderful!” and the family of large deerfolk cheering as well. Osvaldo made eye contact with the son from that family, nigh on eight feet tall with warm, honey-brown eyes and fur the color of chestnut. He smiled at Osvaldo, who flushed and smiled back.

Drexl stood, but moved not an inch. His eyes were ablaze.

Osvaldo bowed shortly to the audience before walking up onto the stage and standing beside Jax.

“Excellent job, Oz,” Jax whispered.

“I was enraptured,” Pomni added.

Osvaldo sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Thank you both…” he whispered back.

“What a lovely performance from our best man!” Ragatha said after the crowd sat down. Drexl was the last to be seated. “Very well, if everyone is ready, we shall begin with the reading of the vows! Mr. Krolik, let’s begin with you, shall we?”

“We shall,” Jax said, pulling a bit of paper out of his coat pocket. “I actually only had a few days to write these due to being ill, but I’m rather proud of them.”

Jax cleared his throat.

“‘Pomni Annabelle Shutnyk. Before I met you, I had no idea what to expect. The daughter of my father’s business associate could have been anyone. I must admit, I was not expecting a 110 pound powder keg.”

A few people in the audience chuckled, Zooble included. Pomni smirked.

“I admit, I was nervous, yet intrigued. You were uninterested in the banal pleasantries of polite society. You did not even entertain the idea of conforming to the expectations of anyone but yourself. In short, you went where you wanted to go and refused to be led anywhere. And that is truly commendable.

“However, it was not until I fell into dire straits that I saw the warm and compassionate soul that you are. When I fell violently ill, not only did you stay at my bedside through all hours of the day, you sacrificed sleep and stayed awake with me so I would not have to face insomnia alone. You read to me, the entirety of Goethe’s The Ties that Bind-”

He briefly turned to the audience. “Excellent novel, might I add.” There was scattered laughter.

“-until your voice became a mere rasp. And not only have you been a gift to me, but you’ve also helped my own family as well. You’ve befriended my sister-in-law and eldest brother…”

Jax gestured to Kali and Altonicus, the former biting back tears and the latter smiling proudly with a nod.

“…encouraged my best-man and second eldest brother to pursue his dream of becoming a vocalist despite societal pressures…”

He gestured to Osvaldo beside him, who shrank somewhat but retained a diffident smile.

“…and have even helped my third eldest brother see reason, and that is, in itself, a monumental task.”

Jax gestured to Boone, giving him a severe look. Boone looked off to the side.

“I am thrilled to have found, by sheer chance, a woman with a wit as sharp as a bayonet, a will as stalwart as a mountain, and yet with a personality as refreshing as a desert oasis. I cannot wait to walk this world at your side. You have captured my heart, Pomni. I love you.”

He smiled gently and nodded, tucking his speech into breast pocket. Pomni’s mouth quivered. Allfather above, she was supposed to follow that?! She was flattered, certainly, goodness sakes she felt as though she might weep… But how could she ever match such gentle vows?

Well, she only had one set memorized, and was never much good at improvisation. There was only one option.

“Jax…” she began, then paused for a moment. Her mouth had courteously turned dust dry. She swallowed and continued.

“Jax. These three weeks before our marriage have been perhaps the most transformative of my life. Having been arranged to be your bride, I had myself quite convinced I would dislike you. I’m sure you remember my attitude towards you upon our first meeting in my father’s library. I believe I called you a mooncalf?”

Jax laughed, although he was the only one to do so. Pomni continued, swallowing again.

“But, since then, I’ve come to realize that there are few people I’ve met that are as intriguing as you. You are intelligent, forward-thinking and quite frankly… fun. For 25 years, I’ve felt alone in my interests, and thanks to you I’ve finally found someone who not only shares my passions, but who I can also match wits with. I have never felt so liberated as I do when I am with you… Despite the tribulations of the past few weeks, illness related or otherwise, I would not trade the time that we’ve spent together for all the crowns in the world. I, too, am so greatly looking forward to the life I shall lead with you…”

Pomni looked into his lemon-colored eyes with her own aquamarine pair. She felt perfectly comfortable, not a single itching sensation on her body.

“Thank you for helping me realize that I can devote myself to someone while still being my own person. Thank you for loving me as I am and not seeking to change a single aspect of my character. Thank you for… Thank you for making me feel wanted… I love you so much…”

Twin tears rolled down her cheeks. She sniffled and wiped them away, averting eye contact. Jax tried his own eyes with a knuckle.

“Join hands, please,” Ragatha said brightly, opening a small box in front of her to reveal two wedding rings, one with a royal blue sapphire and the other with a crimson ruby. Pomni and Jax held hands. Pomni hesitated only for a moment before gripping his paws. Love him she did, fears weren’t conquered over night.

“Do you, Pomni Annabelle Shutnyk, take Jax to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, through good times and troubled, ‘til death do you part?” Ragatha asked.

“I do,” Pomni said. Jax squeezed her hands. Pomni took the red gemstone ring from the box and slid it onto Jax’s left paw ring finger.

“And do you, Jax Bazyli Krolik, take Pomni to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, through good times and troubled, ‘til death do you part?” Ragatha asked.

“I do,” Jax replied. He took the blue gemstone ring and slid it onto Pomni’s right hand ring finger.

“Then, by the power vested in me by The Gray Church and the country of New Hirnantia, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Ragatha said, taking a step back.

Jax lifted Pomni’s veil, revealing her rosy face and nervous smile. He leaned down. She tilted her chin up. Their lips met for the first time.

The audience erupted into applause. Osvaldo applauded right along with them, but, after several seconds, hastily slid down off of the altar and hurried away.

“Osvaldo!” Drexl barked. He received no response.

Pomni Krolik remained on the altar with her lips pressed against her husband’s. It was the longest she had ever touched anyone. And for the first time in her life, she was unwilling to let go.

[tessenpai]

Kono Oto Tomare Chapter 134 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: KONO OTO TOMARE! - RAW chap 134 Next Chap 135 (nicomanga.com) (Use adblocker to avoid NSFW content)

Page 1

Side text: The scattered individualities have now become one...

Chapter Title: #134 Tomfoolery

Page 2

Tsukaji: ---Kuuuh

Tsukaji [thoughts]: This is unbeliable. It's uncanny to think there's only 5 people playing.

Tsukaji [thoughts]: It's as if I was in front of an orchestra or something!!

Tsukaji [thoughts]: Ichiei High's performance level has been outstanding every year but

Tsukaji [thoughts]: But schools were finally catching up to them this year...

Page 3

Tsukaji: And now they do this!!!?

Page 4

Ousuke: ...

Akira [thoughts]: Amazing...

Akira [thoughts]: I've thought this when I heard them play before, but the difficulty of the piece and the level of the students is extermely high.

Akira [thoughts]: The left and right hand are completely different and irregular.

Akira [thoughts]: There are unconventional rests in odd time signatures.

Akira: [thoughts]: The pushes are terrifyingly precise.

Akira [thoughts]: They use dynamic strokes and left-hand movements combined with sudden scooping motions

Page 5

Tomoe [thoughts]: What's this...?

Tomoe [thoughts]: It's on a whole different level.

Tomoe [thoughts]: This is... kinda unfair..-

Satowa [thoughts]: Each part is difficult to play on its own. And they are doing it in complete unison.

Satowa [thoughts]: As if they are kids playing---

Page 6

*No text*

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*No text*

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*No text*

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Luka [thoughts]: If I play like this, how will they respond?

Luka [thoughts]: Then how about this?

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*No text*

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*No text*

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Miran: Ugh-----

Miran: This dude... Playing however the hell he pleases as if this is his moment...

Luka [Memory]: ---Miran, your playing has changed lately.

Page 13

Miran: Huh? Really...?

Luka: Yeah, the essence of the sound is completely different

Luka: Before, your playing was very "inwardly focused", you see?

Miran: "Inwardly focused"...?

Luka: You dove deep, deep within you.

Luka: I guess you could say it was like you were having a dialogue with yourself...?

Luka: In any case, you didn't pay any attention to us at all.

Page 14

Luka: That's why I always wanted to make you look my way, Miran.

Luka: I was throwing my sound at you at full force saying "Look over here~~!!"

Luka [Memory]: But now...

Keishi [thoughts]: Each individual sound stands firmly, and on top of that, they are completely harmonized.

Keishi [thoughts]: The one that is making that possible is---...

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*No text*

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*No text*

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Natsu [thoughts]: How can someone with such a unique sound be the glue that connects the whole?

Hiro[thoughts]: My heart won't stop pounding, just what is this?

Mittsu [thoughts]: The style is sick--

Sane [thoughts]: The technique is sick-

Kota [thoughts]: Everything is sick!!

Suzuka [thoughts]: When we heard them play before,It seemed like a self-centered solo that everyone else worked hard to hold together....

Suzuka [thoughts]: They are so amazingly greedy for growth.

Page 18

Chika [sfx]: Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

Page 19

Luka[Memory]: But that's why I love playing in an ensemble!

Page 20

*No text*

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*No text*

Page 22

Luka: Because in them, don't you create a piece of music with friends who have things you don't have yourself!?

Page 23

*No text*

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Miran[thoughts]: The day I first met Luka, in an instant, I was captivated by that sound of light.

Miran [thoughts]: Kio's sound filled with conviction.

Page 25

Miran [thoughts]: Tougo's unwavering sound.

Miran [thoughts]: Imari's gentle sound.

Miran [thoughts]: The thoughts they have accumulated.

Page 26

*No Text*

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Miran [thoughts]: Are all here together

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*No Text*

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*No Text*

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Side text: This is the sound of the summit...!!

---Kono Oto Tomare will continue in the next issue!---

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 14. sucker for pain

chapter tags/warnings: misogynistic! naoya. pet names ("bimbo"). dirty talking. nonconsenual undertones. infidelity/adultery. strong language. humiliation. classism.

word count: 3.8k

notes: i published this story for the first time in october 2021 on wattpad, and i'm so thankful for and overwhelmed by the support and love that sex therapy has received over the past year. thank you for watching me and my story grow. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Eat. Sleep. Fuck. Repeat.

This would be the mantra Naoya would live by tonight.

The little date he was taking you on was merely a prequel to the chain of bedroom events he had schemed for the evening. Because warming up first was important, no?

As a wonderful husband, Naoya took his precious wife out to dinner at Shibuya’s Cé La Vi, a top-floor restaurant that may not be as vertigo-inducing as its famous Marina Bay Sands counterpart in Singapore, but offered a menu and skyline views second to none.

He had even requested an outdoor table under the fairy lights for the romantic atmosphere, where both the amber hues and soft jazz washed the vicinity with warmth and peace. Exactly what Naoya also needed after his last twenty hours filled with hurried negotiations with publishers, a long flight back to Tokyo, and many private lectures from his outraged father.

At least that was all done now.

Sighing, Naoya gestured at a nearby waiter, who disappeared and returned with a glass of expensive tequila several minutes later. Eight in the evening might be far too early for Naoya to down his third shot of Don Julio, but he needed to reward himself for completing a hectic itinerary without a wink of shuteye in between.

With the drink, he quietly soaked in the low hum of chatter that mingled with the gentle clinking of cutlery. The ambiance was so miraculous that Naoya didn’t know why he hadn’t taken you here earlier.

Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he had taken you out on a proper date anyway?

Oh, when he took you out two weeks ago to skydive in…

No, wait that was with Mari.

He was only two and a half glasses in, but the liquor was already messing with his memory.

So when…?

“We haven’t done anything like this in a long, long while,” you commented when you must have noted his extended silence at the dinner table, although Naoya found it quite funny that you seemingly read his thoughts instead.

He swirled the liquor in his glass but decided against another sip. “You think so?” he asked as harmlessly as possible. “When was the last time?”

Cutting into a scallop on your plate, you bit your inner cheek. “Our…honeymoon.”

Holy crap, that Caribbean trip was months ago. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you deadpanned.

Oh.

Okay, he might have thought a lot more about spending time with his mistress, and he hadn’t exactly been keeping track of every single date he went on with you, but he certainly did not expect to have such an abysmal track record with his own wife.

Not that he felt guilty about his absence in your life.

Besides, you had the money to entertain yourself as you wished. Whether because you were blinded by sheer stupidity or his bank account, you thankfully didn’t complain much either. All Naoya had to do was to keep you happy and ignorant because—to paraphrase his father’s own words—if Naoya flopped this marriage with the COO's daughter, he would not be welcomed in the Zenin household again.

The difficult part, however, was that you were hard to please.

That was what happened to little girls who grew up spoiled by daddy’s money, Naoya supposed. Mari, on the other hand, would have absolutely been overjoyed in your position. Hell, even Naoya himself—who merely grew up as a spare heir—would have shown some gratitude.

“Sorry that I’ve been so occupied.” The Zenin CEO had to inject whatever sympathy and sincerity he had into his apology before sampling his risotto. “I’ve been buried in work ever since I joined the executive suite earlier this year. I’ve had a lot to catch up on.”

“I know,” you responded very matter-of-factly. “And I understand. You’ve been busy with meetings.”

Right. Meetings with his board in addition to his, well, other more discreet ‘meetings’ where he pounded his paramour into oblivion (but let’s not talk about that, shall we?).

As he pushed the thought away, he placed his fork down in exchange for his drink. “That’s why I invited you for dinner—to spend extra time with you. I’ll make things up to you even more later.”

You glanced up from your meal, blinking rapidly but the ambivalence apparent in your gaze. “Really? Like how?”

Sex, you motherfucking dimwit.

How much more obvious did he have to be?

Of course, he instead replied with, “You’ll see.”

He hadn’t told you his idea to rail your brains out because he didn’t feel obligated to, but if he wanted to a) get his father off his ass and b) be a baby daddy by morning, he had quite the mission to accomplish. Besides, if he calculated the numbers correctly in his head, today was still within your fertility window. A later day in the schedule, but still a fertile time for his wife, nonetheless. This was the perfect time to focus on you, particularly since he wouldn’t be distracted by Mari for some time. Perhaps arriving early from Mexico wasn’t too much of a bad thing.

Tonight, the deed didn’t seem too difficult to do either, thanks to how provocatively you dressed. Since when did you wear off-the-shoulder mini dresses? Was this from your New York fashion haul three months back?

“It’d be nice if you could apologize to me first.”

Naoya froze with his glass by his mouth at your unanticipated comment. What were you even going on about? “Didn’t I already say sorry for not spending time with you?” This was what he meant by how ungrateful you were.

Curling your lips inward, you inhaled sharply. “That wasn’t what I was—”

When the conversation was unexpectedly interrupted by a buzzing at the table, Naoya reached for his phone only to be greeted with a blank screen. Rather, he looked up to see you wiping your hands and staring at your device, mirroring Naoya’s own confusion as your brows creased at an unsaved number.

“Spam,” you concluded and pushed the device away once the caller eventually reached voicemail. “What I was saying,” you began even as your face contorted momentarily with reluctance, “was that you never told me you were away from Japan. I didn’t even know where you were or when you would be back had I not called your secretary.”

Wow, that was what you wanted an apology for?

What an entitled brat.

Admittedly, Naoya should have texted you before he vanished into thin air, but a homemaker like you certainly had no business in his personal schedule. Had he truly had an investor conference to attend, Naoya was certain you would have been just as meddlesome, which was why he found the situation even more sardonic when you confirmed his suspicions by adding, “Sending me a text isn’t too difficult, you know.”

Just who the hell did you think you were?

Don’t think he had not noticed how confrontational you had been as of late, criticizing his actions and then dishing out instructions as though you were anywhere near the place to do so. This change from your typically submissive nature was uninvited, to say the least. Like, at the bare minimum, you could look at your own husband as you spoke, and Naoya wondered if your actions were simply a phase in the relationship or a reveal of the real you. Whatever the reason, he wanted his good and obedient wife back.

“Well then, my apologies." His eye twitched as he spoke, and nothing now could hide the contempt rising in his tone. “Next time, I’ll make sure my assistants send you my entire itinerary from when I sleep to when I use the restroom to—"

Naoya couldn’t even think through his annoyance because, at this point, your phone was ringing for what must be the third time and that irked him even further.

“Please!” he scoffed, his vexation bursting through his voice. “Just excuse yourself and pick that shit up, good lord!”

At least that much you listened to. You pardoned yourself, stepping away just as Naoya pinched the bridge of his nose. On the one date he finally organized with his wife, you just had to ruin his mood with your shit attitude and table manners. Fantastic.

After one long huff, Naoya swung around in his seat and caught the attention of a nearby waiter.

The fuming executive then pointed at his glass.

“Another shot, ASAP."

As much as you were guilty of self-deprecation, you were not masochistic enough to simply swallow your husband’s insults over dinner.

‘Sex, you motherfucking dimwit.’

Simply thinking back to that line sent tiny pricks to your chest.

Did Naoya really think that, just because he mumbled that to himself under his breath, you wouldn’t hear him? What made you even more upset was that, when you asked for an apology, he could not even recognize his wrongs. There was more that you hoped to confront him about, too—particularly about the rumors of his extramarital affairs—but you had half the mind to shut up given his splenetic fury.

Whoever called you, however, thankfully provided you with a reason for reprieve.

You rushed out of the main restaurant venue as you curiously stared at your phone, noticing the missed calls from an unknown number. When the same contact information appeared on your screen in its fourth ring, you pressed the ‘Accept’ button only for the other line to greet you first.

“I still have your dress, kiddo.”

Kiddo.

Only one person called you that.

“Choso?” you nearly shouted in disbelief, unintentionally garnering the attention of some bystanders.

“That’s me alright,” the therapist answered, his reply cool and composed as though he never questioned the fact that his hands landed on your phone number. “I was just about to give up on reaching you.”

Overwhelmed, you sighed. “Sorry, I’m rather busy at the moment.”

“Right, right,” he mulled, a faint rumble sneaking in his tone. Choso then clicked his tongue against his teeth, and you could almost picture the blasé manner in which he would recline in a seat as some shuffling echoed over the line, which would have normally been irrelevant until he added, “Well, I’m downstairs.”

“What?!” was your first reaction. Now, you were certainly getting weird stares. Downstairs, as in, where? “Are you in—”

“Yes, Shibuya. You’re at Cé La Vi right now, aren’t you? Take the elevator down to the first floor. My car’s parked right outside the building’s main doors. That Dolce & Gabbana outfit I made you change out of before the club, I didn’t have a chance to return that since you stormed out of the meeting last night.”

You shut your dropped jaw. “The dress I remember but,” your gaze then narrowed, “how do you know where I am?”

The call suddenly grew quiet, the lull stretching for what must be an hour as Choso carefully contemplated his next words. “When you’re in the right business,” he hinted darkly, no doubt making a reference to his underbelly occupation, “information isn’t hard to come by once you know the right people.”

An assassin with eyes all over the city, huh?

Well, that explained how he got your number as well, albeit you would not be surprised if he had dug through the therapist office’s database for that instead. Sometimes, you had to wonder how an upper-class lady like you got entangled with a man like him, but a five-minute round trip to the first floor could not possibly hurt, right?

“I’ll meet you, then,” you eventually replied and ended the call.

Catching the first elevator car down, you had no trouble spotting the iconic blue Corvette convertible that stood outside the building’s entrance. Upon your approach, Choso rolled down his window and stuck his head out. This evening, his jet-black strands were pulled back into one low ponytail rather than two, his prominent jawline appearing even sharper against the nighttime backdrop.

No wonder this man had a whole harem in the club.

“Hey,” he hummed as his inky eyes ran down your figure, his gaze lingering a little longer on your exposed collarbone before traveling down to your legs. “I like your style.”

At the compliment, you looked away, feeling a bizarre prickle in your stomach. “I’m on a dinner date.”

“With Naoya?” Given how the therapists have recently revealed their disdain for your husband, you were not surprised to see Choso grimace. “Why…would you do that to yourself?”

Great question. “He’s paying, so I can’t complain.”

Choso pressed his lips outward, nodding when he could not argue against that. “I see.”

During the silence that ensued, you clicked your heels together, too busy floundering in the burning presence of your companion that you almost forgot the reason you were here in the first place. “Do…you have my dress?”

Nonchalantly, the man pointed to the back with his thumb. “In the trunk. What? You’re in a rush or something?”

You nodded slowly. “Naoya doesn’t know I’m down here," you explained but, given the psychological pain that your husband had inflicted on you, there was no good reason for guilt to be tugging at your lungs.

Even Choso narrowed his eyes. “You’re going back to that asshole?”

Another great question.

Without saying much, Naoya already made clear that his intention with you tonight was grounded only in sexual gratification, that he viewed you as nothing beyond—as he had put it—‘a motherfucking dimwit.’ Despite the pain, you never failed to find a reason to crawl back to the husband that lashed at your heart.

“Naoya is already angry at me,” you eventually remarked, twirling the edges of your dress. “If I don’t get back...”

“Then what? Even more of a reason to ditch him, to be honest. Maybe that will teach him a lesson for all the times he left you.” Choso was not the type to talk much, but he inevitably had the uncanny ability to leave you dumbstruck once he did. Oblivious to your state (or not), he then casually adjusted the braided bracelet at his wrist. “Better things to do with your time than stay with him.”

Funny that your first instinct was to defend Naoya again. However, even if you were to dutifully return to your husband, he would internally welcome you with apathy, his only goal to leave you smitten as a kitten just so he would have a pussy to play with.

Abandoning Naoya also came with one other problem, though. “There isn’t much else for me to do.”

How pitiful was that?

Sure, you had a stack of invitations to various charity dinners and networking parties, but—even with all the riches and respect in the world—you found those events pretentious, repetitive, and dull.

You half-expected Choso to mock you. (Because, really, who were you to complain about first-world problems?) However, the man just paused slightly, a dash of sympathy running over his expression as he then motioned to the empty shotgun seat.

“I could take you out for a ride.”

Your brows shot up. Tempting. “Where to?”

“Since I’m free tonight, I was going to take myself somewhere by Tokyo Bay—one of my favorite spots around,” Choso explained as he ran both his hands through his hair. “Although, if you’re interested, I could show you the area, too.”

At the proposal, you tried not to smile too obviously. Who knew that a hardened part-time hitman actually had such a soft spot?

“Then I’d love to.”

Choso drove off the second you jumped into the Corvette, the convertible greeting you with its familiar ashy honeysuckle scents and a The Neighbourhood tune. With a long exhale, you sank into the red leather seat and stared out the window, watching the nearby scenery transform from skyscrapers to highway signs.

Quietly, you relished the soothing silence in the car that was a refuge from the charged cacophony over dinner, reflecting on the steps that brought you to this moment. What a twist of fate, how the man who had detested you weeks ago was now a warm beacon that offered light in the merciless sea, providing you more comfort than you'd like to admit.

When you unconsciously turned in his direction, you tried to not stare too obviously at the metal on his ears, the piercings gleaming as they caught beams from bypassing streetlamps. You might have had a rough start with Choso Kamo, but you still found him ridiculously attractive with his oversized white sweater and black jeans, hiding his athletic physique underneath.

“Need me to pull up Google Maps?” you asked upon realizing your extended ogling.

“No,” he shot back. “I know this city like the back of my hand.”

And Choso sure seemed like he did.

He was focused solely on driving, his palms clasped around the steering wheel as his fingers drummed to the bass of ‘Sweater Weather.’

This close to him, you noticed how his hands were rough and calloused—almost definitive sign of working out. Right where he rolled up his sleeves, veins also weaved beneath his forearm tattoos, the inked vines something you never had the chance to examine extensively either.

This time, you weren’t too discreet given that he caught your gaze. “What?”

Oops. “Nothing.”

You turned away to look ahead, trying to calm your frenzied heart by observing some uninteresting cars on the expressway. A proper lady like you knew better than to gawk at someone for a prolonged time, yet you still got caught red-handed. How embarrassing.

Slumping further into your seat, you pouted as your weird way in mitigating the internal humiliation. “Just…keep your eyes on the road.”

While Choso did as he was told, he held back a low chuckle. “And you could keep your eyes on me.”

“But I wasn’t—!" A complete lie, but you still shouted with flailing arms, defenses hopeless.

Yet, what really disarmed you was Choso’s faint smirk.

One minute, you were frustrated and flustered; the next, you were simply stunned at the amused tilt in his lips, all because his smile was so rare. There was something enchanting about the cocky way Choso grinned as he stepped on the accelerator, the maniacal gleam in his eyes as he stared ahead, the bright colors of the Tokyo evening that glittered behind him.

“Jesus, take the fucking wheel,” you muttered like a starstruck teenager.

“What’s wrong?” he asked harmlessly because this man definitely heard you over the music. He threw you a quick glance even as the smile on his lips stayed. “I mean, you could keep staring if you want to, bimbo. I won’t judge.”

Mouth opened to back talk, your ambitions immediately got cut short as Choso moved a hand from the steering wheel to your inner thigh. While you hid your gasp at the unexpected contact, you only hoped that he did not notice the way you tensed under his searing touch.

But Choso noticed, alright.

“Hm, why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” Choso pressed again, his focus still on the lane as though he was not caressing you, massaging you, his thumb running in hypnotic circles centimeters away from the dull throb between your legs,

How he managed to maintain his composure in such a situation was a mystery given that you, unlike him, gripped hard at the side of your seat.

“Because…” you hissed after mustering all effort.

Then, you stopped.

How could you respond while completely distracted by the tightening in your stomach, practically holding your breath as his hand crept up higher? It was not helping that his fingers were so thick, that he had a small dagger printed by a knuckle, that his scent was reminiscent of burning maple leaves during a New England fall.

“‘Because…?’ Because what?” Choso asked, knocking your thoughts loose momentarily because he—on the other hand—did not miss your incomplete answer. His nails dug into your skin, nearly making you yelp at the incredible burn. “What’s the issue? I don’t remember you being this shy with the other therapists around.”

The steeliness that underlined his tone…

Was Choso still hung up about your frisky flings with Toji and Sukuna? Even though you should have never gotten sexually involved with them in the first place, you never would have thought that Choso would hold such a grudge.

In response, you cautiously observed his side profile. “Are…you jealous?”

He closed his eyes momentarily at the question, indescribable salaciousness etched on his lovely face, and he shuddered slightly. His eyes opened back as a sharpened glare, Adam’s apple bobbing as the result of a drawn-out swallow.

“Oh, baby,” he growled, and it was the backward tilt of his head that left your mind spinning, “you have no idea.”

Traveling beneath your dress, his hand roamed a little higher, then higher again, his pinky finger brushing at your panties’ seam such that if he decided to travel up any further, he might just feel how miserable and soaked you were.

Just hurt me, you begged silently, legs squeezing together subconsciously as you feel a delicious heat churning through your body, biting back a moan when Choso gripped hard at your thigh before smacking at the flesh.

“Harder,” you accidentally pleaded out loud, immediately clamping your hands over your mouth.

Unsurprisingly, your insanely handsome driver turned to you. When you met his gaze, you only wished that you hadn’t because Choso had a gaze that left you weak in the knees, the murky pool in his eyes enough to leave you whittled to a frantic and blubbering mess.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

“Well, I'm curious what your husband would say,” he interjected, debauchery bleeding in his tone, “when I send you home my handprints on your ass cheeks?”

Wow, that really took you aback.

“‘When?’” you bleated. Not ‘if?’

“Yes, ‘when,’” he confirmed with a hoarse thrum. His overflowing confidence clouded your head with something heady, something intoxicating. As much as you think you should tell Choso to stop, words were lodged in your throat once he forced your legs apart with one firm pull, and while you found pleasure in the pain, it was his next suggestion that sent sweet vibrations straight down your spine: “Because I wonder what would happen once I spread you over the car hood and took you right there.”

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[rindragon-from-twewy]

Uh oh! Someone left me alone with my thoughts again! I don't see many people talking too deeply about pre-game stuff beyond "Number One was a terrible person" so I'm here to throw my own poorly explained hot take in to the ring-

I'm not really built for theory crafting and tend to miss or forget obvious details so consider this... an AU proposal more then anything. (Tbh I mostly just wanted to draw smol Yuma lmao-)

Spoiler warning ofc and enjoy this horrifically long and poorly explained ramble-

So... I don't really know much about the general fandom age headcannons on characters. I won't be going in to specifics right now about what I think all the character ages are cuz this isn't about that but for context, I pin Yuma around 15-16, on the early 18 side if you really wanna push it. Mainly cuz... it'd be kinda weird for Kurumi (a school student) to be one of his main love interests otherwise- For the sake of argument, I'll say 18.

So anyways-

Makoto's like... what? 3 or 4 years old? Forgive me for not re-watching chapter 5 just to get my timeline correct here but that's roughly right. Meaning that Number One would've been about 13 or 14 when he agreed to participate in the experiments at most. And sure, he's the smartest person in the world but anyone can be susceptible to lies or manipulations, especially someone that young.

But then of course we don't know how long Yuma had the Number One title for. Surely it would've had to have been at least a little while- I doubt the unified government would go after the blood of the newly appointed "smartest detective in the world" the second he got in to office. So who's to say exactly how much this literal child had been manipulated beforehand?

I'm imagining a sort of... Nagisa plus Kirigiri scenario (the danganronpa characters lol-) where they'd been set on a very specific academic path nearly their whole lives. Sure, Yuma probably had been born a genius and his strong moral code was most likely all his own but... no matter what way you spin it, there must have been some negligence to allow someone so young to become so cut off from the rest of society. It could've been intentional, it could've been accidental. Either way, why is someone like Yuma, who is obviously younger then most of his peers, who could easily pass as a trainee detective simply because of how smol he is, make it all the way to the top on his sheer intelligence alone?

This rambling's getting incoherent, sorry, it's late and I'm tired-

Makoto's pretty manipulative, sure, but he only got to the CEO position cuz of all the blackmail he had- Man had zero control over the city to the point he had to let outsiders get smuggled in just to help him fix it. Makoto (and by extension Number One) is book smart. Not street smart. They can build the rain machine, they can run multiple government conspiracies, etc etc. But if Number One was a kid at the time, it would've been pretty difficult for them to manipulate, mansplain, malewife his way in to office imo. A kid can't manipulate a dozens of adults in to being the leader of the whole WDO, no matter how naturally gifted they are. I mean it's no secret that the unified government and by extension the WDO are just as shady as Amaterasu so why wouldn't they take advantage of a young and impressionable kid when the opportunity arises?

We don't really know how Number One truly felt about anything. We know how Makoto views it, we know what Yuma thinks about it but we don't know if Number One really understood what the repercussions of the experiments could've been.

So let me just... break down what I'd interpret a vague timeline of events to be (in this hypothetical... Uh... AU I guess?)

- Yuma gets in to the WDO somehow. Very young, very impressionable. He may be really good at solving crimes but like any kid, he doesn't know anything that he isn't taught about. Being surrounded by mysteries and crimes, all while constantly being praised by adults as being "just soooo smart!" Is probably what taught him that he didn't need other people and so never learnt (or potentially was never even allowed to) make friends.

- Growing up surrounded by a combination of Yes-Men and people who let the obvious child labour/ exploitation slide because "This little genius is such a special case, we gotta let it slide this once!" Made it so he reached to the level of Number One far faster then anyone would expect. And that then came along with abandoning his old name and identity, isolating himself completely for his own protection. (I like to think he may not even remember his original name because he was so young at the time (for extra angst ^vO))

- And so a completely isolated pre-teen, who's entire life up until this point has entirely consisted of gory murder scenes and tragic crimes he was personally responsible for solving, was approached by the unified government. Who knows exactly how much detail they went in to with explaining their plan? Maybe they said that it probably wouldn't even work out, given all the past failures. Maybe they came begging for his help, like many people seeking justice would have done before them. Maybe they simply told him it was for the sake of peace? Maybe he was in his angsty emo phase and thought having a clone would be cool, who really knows? A pre-teen is a pree-teen, they all do dumb things- either way, he agreed.

- And so things played out like they said in the game, Makoto was created, escaped, saved the citizens of Kanai Ward via isolating them. He keeps them fed the only way he knows how - through the WDO; the only organisation he's ever been able to rely on (and thanks to his authority level, of course). Yuma starts getting suspicious while also simultaneously maturing enough to realise just how wrong everything about his life is, gets his new identity, makes the contract with Shinigami and heads off to start fixing his problems.

Additional Thoughts:

It's like that thing in the original beauty and the beast movie where everyone suddenly realised that the witch probably cursed a 9 year old for not letting a creepy stranger in to his home-

Maybe that's why he stuck with the name Yuma after everything. Cuz he didn't remember his original name to fall back on. He could've been Number One for as long as he could remember for all we know!

Maybe he was so busy trying to run the whole WDO that he didn't even pay much mind to the experiments? Could've just agreed to shut them up without knowing what he was getting in to. Makoto really drove it in to the mud how horrible of a person Number One was but how can we be sure that's an objective fact and not completely opinion driven?

I'm like actually really curious what other's perspectives on this could be. Again, I don't know much about the rain code fandom's age headcannons but it's pretty obvious to me at least that Yuma's on the younger end of the cast- (And by extension, Makoto too-)

Maybe I'll fact check myself when I have the time- either way, it's an interesting AU idea at the very least. I'll probably delete the writing portion of this post if it turns out I'm horrendously wrong-

Its probably gunna turn out that Yuma's in his mid 30s or 40s and suffers from baby face syndrome or something cringe fail like that lmfao-

So. Yeah. That's all just a theory (minus most of the fact checking) A GAME THEORY- Thanks for reading! :D

[notgonnaedit]

Healer's Hands

Chapter 8: A Distant Echo

Summary: When 16 y/o Althea Aaun's home is lost to the Clone War, she must find her way in a squad of rejected clones

Pairing: Bad Batch x Teen!OFC (clones being good brothers/dads)

Chapter summary: The search for Echo takes the Bad Batch, Captain Rex, and General Skywalker to Skako Minor

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Crosshair being a jerk, Althea not having it, Techno Union, war crimes (If I miss a tag LMK)

Master list

Back at the Republic base on Anaxes, Hunter, Althea, Rex, and Jedi General Anakin Skywalker discussed their new mission. The plan was to travel to Skako Minor, and find the live signal emitting from the capitol, Purkoll. "Word is the general staff isn't completely behind this mission." Said Hunter.

"I admit the idea of Echo being alive is still a long shot." Rex said.

General Skywalker folded his arms in a relaxed way. "I'm sure the Council will approve the mission. Just remember the primary goal is to learn how the Separatists are predicting our strategy, whether it's Echo behind it or not."

Hunter hummed in thought. "Well, if you want my opinion, sounds like a trap, but me and the boys will tag along anyway, if only to say 'I told you so'." He smiled at the end, Althea doing the same. Sure, they were a rough bunch, but they still meant well.

Skywalker nodded. "Just make sure you're ready if we get the go-ahead from General Kenobi."

"If you're certain he'll approve the mission, why wait?" Rex asked with vigor. "Let's get going."

Skywalker gave him a look. "First, we have that 'thing' to do."

"Uh, what thing?" Rex asked.

"You know."

Rex glanced at Hunter and Althea. "We don't have time for that, sir."

Skywalker raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we do."

Althea and Hunter shared a look. "Well, we'll just let you two sort this out." The sergeant said backing away. "We'll be waiting on the ship with the rest of the team." They walked away toward the Marauder, both confused as to what they just witnessed.

"Regs are weird." Althea said. "And the Jedi too."

Hunter chuckled. "Now you're getting it, kiddo."

"I've gotten it for a long time." Althea retorted. "I just haven't seen it as much as you have." She bumped him lightly as they walked. Hunter chuckled again and ruffled her hair. It wasn't uncommon among clones to show physical affection, but for the Bad Batch it was their main form of communication. More could be said with a simple nod than with a speech. There were often days on the ​​​​​​Marauder when no one uttered a word, but everyone understood each other. It was one of Althea's favorite part of the squad, though it did take some getting used to at first. But now, the young medic was a master at deciphering the difference between Wrecker's playful and angry shoves, or Hunter's stares of either judgement or being "in the zone".

                      •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Aboard the Havoc Marauder, the Bad Batch, Rex, and General Skywalker prepared for their mission. Tech piloted the ship calmly, while Wrecker lifted their gonk droid, Gonky, and ate some sort of avian wing. Skywalker inspected Crosshair's rifle, with careful supervision by the sniper. Althea prepped her med bag, and Hunter tapped at the controls of one of the monitors. "So," General Skywalker said as he handed Crosshair back his rifle. "How many missions has your team been on, Sergeant?"

Hunter leaned against the wall of the ship. "Honestly, sir, I've lost count. All the action sort of blurs together."

"I know you work with Cody sometimes," Said Rex. "But who do you guys report to?"

Hunter rubbed his chin. "Hmm...good question. Can't say I've got an answer."

Wrecker took a bite out of his food. "Yeah!"

Suddenly, the ship shuddered and everyone aboard fumbled to find their balance. "We are approaching Skako Minor." Tech said from the cockpit. "It looks to be a difficult landing."

An alarm started to go off, and Wrecker set down Gonky to help Tech land. The rest of them buckled down in the crash seats, strapping themselves tightly as to not be thrown around. Luckily, Tech was an incredible pilot and landed them safely on the surface of Skako Minor.

The team moved to the cockpit to see where they were, but all that was visible was clouds of yellow dust. "Rex, what do we know about this place?" Skywalker asked his captain.

Rex looked out the windows. "On this part of Skako, there's a race of locals, the Poletecs. All we know is they're very primitive."

"Primitive is being kind." Tech added. 

Althea shook her head. "Tech, you said my people were primitive. You have a very low bar for what primitive is."

Tech shrugged. "My intel says the Poletecs worship flying reptiles."

That's fair. Althea thought. Then suddenly, a creature landed on the ship, screeching and moving out of their sight. Wrecker leaned forward to try and see it. "Oh! What the heck was that?!"

"It's one of those reptiles." Said Tech.

"I want that thing off my ship." Hunter growled. He slipped his helmet on and moved to go outside, but Rex tried to stop him.

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't just run out there."

They didn't listen. The Bad Batch ran out, Rex and Skywalker on their heels. On the Marauder was a reptile with large wings. Atop that, was what seemed to be a Poletec glaring down at them. "Hey!" Wrecker yelled at him. "Get off of there!"

"Hey, calm down." Skywalker said, despite the lightsaber in his had. "We need to talk to them."

"Why?" Hunter asked. He really hated it when something messed with his ship.

"The General's right." Said Rex. 

Then, out of left field came three more of the creatures with Poletecs on their backs. "Look out, Rex!" Skywalker shoved Rex out of the way as the creatures made their pass. They swooped around again, this time grabbing the General and flying away with him. The others shot at them, but they were to far. 

Tech lowered his visor. "I have a thermal reading." He pointed to where the Poletecs took Skywalker. "Point-2-5 east, elevation 175."

Crosshair changed the barrel of his rifle. "Relax. I'll handle this." He rested the barrel on Tech's shoulder for more stability, then shot a cable. He handed Hunter the end of the cable.

"What are you doing?" Asked Rex.

Hunter clipped the end to his waist. "Going for a ride." And with that, the creature pulled him away. Althea rolled her eyes. Of course Hunter would take off like that. It was only earlier that Crosshair said that he couldn't do something like that. It wasn't too long before Hunter checked in. "Tech, I'm with the General. Hone in on my signal."

                •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Tech landed the Marauder not far from Hunter. The sergeant was crouched on the ridge observing the Poletecs. The others ran up to him, blasters ready. "That creature still has a hold of the General." He said.

Rex nodded. "We're going in, but remember what the General said. No casualties, disarm only."

"We're on it, Captain." Hunter turned to his squad. "Wrecker, Crosshair, rockslide!" He, Tech, Althea, and Rex slid down the slope, blasting the weapons the Poletecs held. Crosshair shot the creature's leg, freeing General Skywalker while Wrecker shoved a boulder down, dispersing the Poletecs. One of them who seemed to be the leader walked up to them and spoke in his native tongue.

"Tech, translate what he said." Hunter ordered. 

Tech pulled down his visor. He used the audio of the Poletecs to translate to galactic basic. "He's says he does not want our war on his planet. That is why he took our leader."

Skywalker's eyes softened. "We didn't bring the war here. It was Wat Tambor and the Separatists."

Tech translated, and the leader seemed to be less hostile. Rex took a step forward. "Tell him we apologize for what's happened. But tell him the enemy is holding one of our men prisoner in Purkoll. As soon as we rescue him, we'll leave his planet for good."

The chief leaned down and looked at Tech closely. Probably out of curiosity. He then turned to Anakin and spoke, which Tech translated again. "The chief says he will provide us with scouts and lead us to Tambor's city. From there, we're on our own."

"Any help is better than no help." Said Skywalker with a small smile.

A little while later, the team was led up a jagged mountain by two scouts. When they reached the cliffside summit, they pointed to the city in the murky distance before leaving. "Hope nobody's scared if heights." Skywalker said. 

The entirety of the Bad Batch turned to Wrecker. "Well, I'm not scared of nothing." Said the demo man. "I just... When I'm up real high, I got a problem with gravity." Everyone knew that Wrecker was terrified of heights, but they let it slide so he could save face.

Tech tapped his gauntlet, a special part of his armor with technology inside. "Speaking of problems, I am no longer picking up Echo's signal."

Rex turned to him. "I...I don't understand. "You said it was coming from this city."

"I can only speculate, but it is possible there's a latency issue with the frequency caused by all these atmospheric disturbances." Tech took it his datapad and walked away in search of a better signal.

"Or...maybe they sent the signal to lure us into a trap." Hunter suggested. "And maybe your friend's actually dead."

Althea looked up at him in disgust. And though only the upper part of her face was shown, it was clear how she felt. Hunter looked at her. "Well, I can't be the only one thinking of that."

Althea scoffed as Rex tried to explain. "Look, every mission could be a trap. This one is no different. I'm telling you that signal is being sent by Echo himself! He's alive!"

Althea felt a pang of sympathy. She knew exactly how Rex felt. But Crosshair wasn't as kind. "I think your letting your personal feelings get in the way because you left him for dead at the Citadel."

"I had no choice. You hear me?" It was clear Rex was losing his temper.

"Oh, I don't blame you." The sniper said as he turned away. "I would've left him for dead too. Besides, he's just another reg."

That was the last straw. Althea would've punched him right there is Rex hadn't beaten her too it. Wrecker grabbed the captain by the throat. "Hey! Why don't you pick on someone not your size?" He threw him to the ground, but Rex got right back up.

He made himself as tall as he could and got in Wrecker's face. "You'll be a whole lot smaller when I'm through with you."

"That's enough!" General Skywalker ordered. He turned to Hunter. "Sergeant, take your men and scout the area for a tower entrance. I want to talk to my Captain alone."

The Bad Batch walked down the mountain away from the 501st soldiers. Althea was fuming with rage the whole way down. When they reached the bottom, Crosshair took off his helmet and rubbed his jaw. Rex threw a strong punch that even a helmet couldn't save you from. But Althea didn't care about the sniper's well being now. She punched him square in the jaw with all her strength. 

Crosshair stumbled back and Hunter grabbed her shoulders. "Althea!"

The medic shook him off and turned back to Crosshair. "What the hell was that?!" She asked. Not even giving them a chance to answer, she turned to all of them, meeting each one of their uncovered faces. "Rex has a chance to find his friend that he thought was dead for a long time. Who cares if he's wrong? There's a chance his brother is alive and he's going to take it." She paused for a moment. "If I found out my brother was still alive, I wouldn't hesitate to try and find him."

She walked away to scout for a tower entrance, leaving her brothers to think about her words. Althea had expected better of them.

Crosshair walked over not long after, his rifle in his pack and helmet at his side. "You throw a mean punch for a healer."

Althea ignored him, earning a sigh from the sniper. "Thea," He started. "You're right." He had her attention now. Crosshair never admitted he was wrong. "But your different, so helping you with your brother was too."

"How?" The medic asked.

"You were just an innocent kid." He explained. "Your brother was all you had left. Rex is a reg. The regs have never treated us right, even we we were cadets. It's hard to feel sorry for them."

Althea hummed in thought. "You don't have to feel sorry for him, but you can't talk to him that way. Especially if it's your CO." She nudged him slightly, silently signaling she forgave him.

             •°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The Bad Batch guarded the tower entrance as Tech worked to open it. A storm whipped sand around them as dry lighting struck the ground. It was times like these that Althea wished she had a helmet, but she was grateful for her cloth. Hunter leaned forward slightly and out from the shadows came Skywalker and Rex, running as fast as they could. "We're in business, General." He said. "Tech regained Echo's signal. It's coming from this tower. How's it going, Tech?"

Tech didn't respond as he tapped the buttons. He pressed one final switch and the door opened. "Sorry it took so long." He said standing up.

"Hey, Crosshair, check it out." Hunter ordered.

Crosshair walked inside taking a quick look. "Yeah, it's a lift."

Althea rolled her yellow eyes as she walked in. "Well, we already knew that." They piled up inside, but Wrecker hesitated.

"Wait, wait, wait. A lift?" He asked. "How far up are we going?"

Hunter chuckled teasingly. "Heh. Don't worry, Wrecker. I'll hold your hand." He held out his hand mockingly, but Wrecker just shoved him.

"Hey! Cut it out, Sarge. Just give me some droids to crush." He stepped inside, and the crowded lift made it's ascent.

"Remember," Skywalker said. "This is a stealth mission. No blasting, no blowing things up. Nobody knows we're here."

The lift doors opened, revealing a room full of droids. Wrecker let out a yell as he charged them, the rest of the Bad Batch close behind. In no time they cleared the room, but the element of surprise was long gone. "Yeah!" Wrecker cheered when the fight was over. "Hah! Haha! Yeah!" He stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him. "Uh...sorry. I just got excited."

"I've still got a lock in Echo's signal." Tech said as he stared at his datapad.

Hunter nodded. "All right, men. Let's hunt some droids."

"Now you're talking! Yeah!" Wrecker cheered as they left.

They made their way through the tower. Hunter peeked out the door into a hall and saw only a few droids. He and Rex stepped out and took care of them instantly. Everyone stepped into the hall. "Where exactly is Echo's signal coming from?" Skywalker asked.

Tech tapped his datapad. "Strange. I just lost the signal."

Rex took of his helmet. "What? How can that be? There's no 'atmospheric disturbances' up here."

"Well, I have a new theory." Said Tech. "I'm surprised I did not consider it earlier. The signal is only traceable during data transmissions. So until Echo dispenses more intel, I cannot pick up the signal."

With this new information, Skywalker gave new orders. "Okay, we're splitting up. Search every door. If someone finds Echo, contact the other. We go in together, just in case there's trouble."

They split off, Anakin and Crosshair going one way and the rest going the other. It was a circular room so they wouldn't be far. Althea opened a door and aimed her blaster, but nothing was there. "Ah!" Tech sounded pleased. "It appears the signal is back. It's from up ahead." He ran towards his signal.

The others followed him, Hunter with his helmet off. It was possible he sensed something and needed the helmet off to be sure. In a dark area stood a heavily locked door. "In there." The sergeant said.

Rex tapped the door. "Tech, open this door."

Before he could, the intercom by the door whirred to life, revealing Wat Tambor. "You clones are so predictable."

"Wat Tambor." Rex seethed.

"Your algorithm predicted every move you made to infiltrate Purkoll."

"There is no algorithm." Said Rex. "We know you're holding a prisoner of war in here."

"Prisoner? I don't know what you mean, Captain." Tambor lied.

"I am leaving here with my friend."

"Your friend is dead. His mind is ours."

Rex hit his fist on the wall. "Liar!"

Behind them, dozens of droids approached. "Execute them." 

The Bad Batch and Rex fired instantly. Hunter threw his knife, lodging it in one of the droid's head. He grabbed it and swiftly moved on to his next victim, flipping over droids like a Jedi. Speaking of Jedi, General Skywalker used the Force to destroy over half the droids. Crosshair slid on the floor and blasted the droids from beneath them. 

But when all the droids were destroyed, more on both sides of the circle fired at them. Althea, Hunter, Rex, Tech, and Skywalker all hid against one wall, and Crosshair and Wrecker the other. "Tech, open that door for Rex!" Skywalker ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Tech ran over to the door.

Hunter turned to Althea. "Thea, cover them." She nodded and ran to Tech as Hunter looked to Rex. He remembered Althea's words about her brother. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Captain."

Rex nodded and ran into the now open door with Althea and Tech.

Althea and Rex led they way, their blasters ready. The door led to a dark room filled with electricity. In the center was a huge control board with a hatch above it. "I don't like the look of this." Althea mumbled.

Tech went to work at the controls. "I'm definitely picking up a life-form in there. It seems to be a stasis chamber. I think I can get it open." He pulled one final lever, and the chamber opened.

Inside was white and cold, and a person. Gravity took over and the person fell out, the only thing keeping him upright was the thousands of wires attached to his body. His face was gaunt and pale, but it was a clone. Althea took a step back in horror, her hand reaching for Tech's. He gave her fingers a quick squeeze, assuring them both that what they were seeing was real.

Rex looked up at the clone. "Echo." He climbed onto the control board and pulled Echo down. "Tech, Althea. He got to get him out of here." This snapped the siblings out of their shock. "Figure out how to unplug him from this mess."

Tech and Althea stepped away, the former checking his datapad for how to unplug Echo. Althea took a ragged breath. Up till now she had thought she'd seen it all. She knew first hand that war was hard, but this was a whole new level of horrific. One that she didn't know how to comprehend.

​​​​​​​​​​​​​<- Previous

Next ->

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER AND THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

MAIN STORY : CHAPTER 3 PART 16

━

Camus's hand trembled as it grasped the gun. His face paler than the moon itself. His stance so unsteady it seemed he could collapse at any moment.

EMMA : Camus...?

MAM : Camus has… more than his fair share of trauma when it comes to guns. Even just holding one makes him tremble like this.

EVERYONE (EXCEPT SEVEN) : Huh!?

MAM : It was that duel wasn’t it? That caused all of this.

CAMUS : Yes. I lost my left eye in the most disgraceful duel in the history of the Bloody Lady and, ultimately, it led to my expulsion from the organization.

CAMUS : Since then, I've been afraid of guns. It's the truth.

It was then that everyone turned to look at Seven…

SEVEN : ...................Heheheheh……

SEVEN : Hahahahaha!!

EMMA : Se-Seven...?

EMMA : (Could it be...)

━FLASHBACK━

EMMA : If he adores her, why did he leave?

VICTOR : I heard that he was kicked out as punishment for failing them. It’s a harsh world, I guess. I’ll tell you more about that when I get the chance. 

━END FLASHBACK━

EMMA : (So all this is because of a duel with Seven!?)

SEVEN : This won't do... I can't just sit back and watch this.

SEVEN : Let me take over the match.

LEN : Huh? What do you mean?

SEVEN : I finally remembered, Camus... That match with you. It was so incredibly intense.

SEVEN : You had my heart pounding, my guts churning...! Only for it to end in a misfire...

SEVEN : This time’ll be different. A duel bigger than anything we've ever seen, risking all our lives and dreams on a single bullet!

SEVEN : Camus, hand me the gun. I'll take your place. Let me experience the ultimate thrill and decide your dreams for you!

VICTOR : W-Wait a minute, Seven!

LEN : This guy's nuts! Hey, stop that, Seven, what the fuck’s gotten into you!? Drop the theatrics!

YMIR : That's fine by me...

VICTOR : Ymir!?

YMIR : What? Seven seems to be far more focused than Camus right now. And he's clearly had success in the past, no?

GRANDFLAIR : This is getting complicated, what do we do?

CROW : We'll leave it to Camus. It's not our decision to make.

EMMA : (Camus...)

SEVEN : I’m waiting, now hand over the gun! If you can't do it, then I will.

CAMUS : The bet has already been made. The players must remain the same.

SEVEN : ........!!

CAMUS : Whether I’m capable of pulling the trigger is thrilling in its own right, is it not?

CAMUS : And... I will definitely take your eye in a rematch one of these days. So, for now, behave yourself.

SEVEN : Tsk! Haha, alright. I’m looking forward to it.

Speaking his last thoughts, Seven stepped back and in an instant seemed to slip back into his lazy, characteristic, sway.

MAM : What a nuisance... After all that racket, it came down to you anyway.

CAMUS : Yes, I apologize. By the way, Mam, if I may. I have one last thing to ask, despite the shame.

MAM : ........Hm?

CAMUS : ...My secret has been exposed. There's no need to pretend anymore.

CAMUS : So I want to say something to her.

EMMA : (Huh?)

MAM : I see. So you’re also in a difficult position.

MAM : It's important to say goodbye between lifetimes. Being a widow... it’s lonely.

CAMUS : Then, Emma, please accept this. Here.

EMMA : M-Me...?

As instructed I slowly approached Camus where he swiftly and suddenly embraced me with his long arms.

ALL : What!?

VICTOR & YMIR & REN : The fu--?

EMMA : U-Um?

EMMA : Camus, steady your mind...!

CAMUS : Thank you. With this, I know I'll be fine.

EMMA : ............Huh?

CAMUS : Now then, let's begin.

The duel was finally under way. Once, twice. And even on the third shot, no bullet was fired...

By the fourth round, it was Mam's turn, with little more than the click of the trigger echoing emptily.

CAMUS : The next round will decide it. As expected of you, Mam, you're brave.

MAM : Don't underestimate me, boy. If you've made up your mind for a game of roulette, then all that's left is to enjoy it 'til the very end.

CAMUS : Haha, there's the Mam I've known all my life. I admire your creed.

CAMUS : No matter how deep the darkness, may you always remain passionate and humane.

With trembling hands, Camus pressed the gun to his head. This was it, the moment when the match would be decided.

CAMUS : Mam, please remember. The Boss's words to never be trapped in darkness no matter what.

CAMUS : …You really shouldn't look so sad right now...

He pulled the trigger...

CLICK.

EMMA : (The fifth shot was a blank...! In that case...)

MAM : ...It's my loss…

The tense atmosphere eased, and a sigh of relief escaped. However—

SEVEN : The match isn't over... yet.

At the moment Seven muttered those words—

Mam snatched the gun from Camus's hand, pressing the barrel against her own temple.

MAM: It's only fair to see the match through to the end.

CAMUS: Mam, the wager was the Boss's position not your life.

MAM : I won't stand for it. After everything I’ve done how could I possibly face him again? — I've had enough!

Mam pulled the trigger, and a bullet fired through her.

But it wasn't a bullet fired from the gun in Mam’s hand.

MAM: Ugh...!

JOE : Hahaha! How about that, my aim gets sharper every time!

ACE : You're so cool, big brother!

CROW & ITSUKI & GRANDFLAIR : The Dark Night Duo!

EMMA : Testament...!

TESTAMENT : Haha... what a pointless match…

YMIR : Not at all. Sorry to say but your plan is ruined. Just now, Camus became the new Boss of The Bloody Lady.

TESTAMENT : Yes. Exactly as expected.

EMMA : What...!?

In the distance, we hear a terrifying roar accompanied by footsteps swiftly approaching us.

??? : Uurraaahhhhh!!!

CROW : Those are the guys they infected with the black powder.

━FLASHBACK━

MAN IN BLACK 1 : We’re agents of a family called the Kingsleys. They’re rivals of the Bloody Lady.

━END FLASHBACK━

ITSUKI : Ah, our old patients. I recognize more than a few faces...

NOAH : There must be dozens of them, this is bad.

TESTAMENT : I told them that Mam was trying to kill them.

KINGSLEYS MEMBER 1 : Bloody Lady, you bastards... You'll be done for before you know it!

KINGSLEYS MEMBER 2 : We'll get revenge for our fallen comrades!!

TESTAMENT : Haha, we're all having such a wonderful time now, aren't we?

BLOODY LADY MEMBER 1 : Ugh!

BLOODY LADY MEMBER 2 : Everyone open fire!!

EMMA : Wait, don't use those guns!!

My shout was in vain... Bloody Lady members opened fire using the guns they'd stored in the warehouse.

KINGSLEYS MEMBER 2 : Hahaha!

One by one. People hit by the bullets were swallowed by the black miasma, losing consciousness.

CROW : I'll stop them!

NOAH : Stop who? There's shooting on both sides!

CROW : Then we'll take them all out! Its the only way to keep them safe!

ITSUKI : Emma, can the Black Fairies handle being out in the open right now?

EMMA : Everyone!

NAVI : Ugh. Such a horrible situation~

NAVI : Negative human emotion is always so thick. Ah... it's too tragic.

EVAN : Ugh, those damned guns! Hey, what the hell do you guys think you're doing!?

GRANDFLAIR : Are you all okay?

HIMMEL : Don't worry. We've recovered quite a bit.

HIMMEL : That said… Trying to purify this many people? It's reckless to say the least…

EMMA : But, we have to try! Let's lend them our strength!

[tadpolesonalgae]

omg i was bored and started re-reading CBMTHY from the start and i just realized - now knowing that reader was ill? or expecting to die from sickness before the Cauldron thing happened - Azriel's comment of "you are proving to be a burden" and why that was such a fatal blow to reader is getting a new meaning akdjskakajsj

ur whole family is suffering in poverty with ur youngest sister going to the woods every day risking her life to keep ur family afloat, and ur sick and possibly dying (idek if it was mentioned whether or not the rest of the Archerons knew?? i wouldn't put it past reader to just not tell them bc of her insecurities, not to mention the whole complicated psychology that must happen with the fact that Mama Archeron also died from illness and the trauma everyone has from that 😬😬) and u get randomly turned into fae and seemingly cured of that illness.... like the amount of guilt that reader must have had about the whole situation.. she already felt like she owed smth to Feyre and the rest bc she's in the belief that she would've died if she stayed human (both from hunger and her illness) and then Azriel goes ahead and tells her she's a burden like 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Az what the FUCK no wonder girlie is depressed 😭😭 (im not like Really really livid at him bc ik that he obviously didn't know her backstory but .. bro's gotta GROVEL)

anyways im living for this added weight of the angst and hurt ✨️

(I might have gone on some tangents here, and I’m not entirely sure I articulated it correctly, so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make total sense!! 🧡💛)

Okay, so, this is something I think I struggle with frequently—being unsure how much people in the acotar universe know about medicine?

I’ve kind of got it into my head that fae magic is just a general healing thing? So it wouldn’t require the same level of knowledge and study as a modern day doctor would have to go through since I don’t think we really get to see how healing magic works? The only comparison I can think of is what we see in Tower of Dawn, but even that wasn’t particularly clear?

Anyway, in a story like cbmthy where reader obviously has some mental instabilities, it’s quite difficult knowing how to describe it since I’m unsure they have the understanding of modern day medicine/psychology? And then there are the physical symptoms that her magic has been causing her, and I’m operating under the assumption that they won’t understand what’s happening to reader or how to cure it given the type of ‘sick’(?) she is from her power? I also don’t want to give anything away, but in short I’m hoping to touch more on what kind of ‘illness’(?) reader was dealing with pre-cauldron?

‘Az what the FUCK no wonder girlie is depressed’

I’m glad that this side is clear at least 😭 I was kind of worried, since I don’t think I’ve explicitly said she’s clinically depressed, that it might not be apparent? Again, I don’t think they have a term for depression in the acotar universe? Like I can’t see it being a name for a mental illness? I can see it being used as a descriptor, and people being able to understand the concept quite clearly, but I don’t imagine there being defining qualities yet if that makes sense? 😬😭

‘anyways im living for this added weight of the angst and hurt ✨️’

Well, while chapter 16 is mostly happy, there is a little interaction with Mor at the end that might be a bit intense if you enjoy general angst/hurt things? It’s only brief but I felt it would be too strange to have a genuinely okay chapter, even if reader just experienced one of the lowest moments of her life 😁🧡💛

[incendio22]

FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

Chapter 16: The Story of Another Sallow

During Christmas me, Ominis and Sebastian stayed at Hogwarts. Sebastian and Ominis because they don't have a family to go home to and me because I wanted to stay at Hogwarts with them. My parents were disappointed, but eventually gave in and allowed me to stay. The last month Ominis and I had spent lots of time trying to trace Anne Sallow's footsteps in order to find her whereabouts. She had done a very good job hiding, but we managed to track her down to Manor Cape. Both Ominis and I found it curious, since there weren't many residences in Manor Cape. Mainly abandoned castles and animal dens. Maybe that's the reason why she was almost impossible to track down.

A couple of days after Christmas, but still before the new year, Ominis and I decided to head off to Manor Cape. The professors were busy taking time to themselves and didn't really look out for the students in the same way they normally do, which made it a whole lot easier to sneak away from the castle for two days without being noticed. We only told Sebastian we were going to see Anne, but not where. It seemed to upset him, which was reasonable. He did, however, tell us to give Anne his best.

I put on the sweater Sebastian gave me for Christmas. It was a maroon knitted sweater and I absolutely adored it. He had explained that he found it funny, because 'I was the only Slytherin who looked good in red'. With his words in my head I put my hair into two braids and put on a hat. It was freezing outside and we would have to fly for several hours in order to get there. I had talked Imelda into letting Ominis borrow her broom. It was hard to convince her, since she had gotten it only a year ago and she wanted to take it with her home so she could practice over the holidays. However, here we were. Standing on the courtyard, getting ready to leave.

''Ominis.'' I begin. ''I know your wand helps you out with practically everything, but are you positive that it's safe for you to fly?''

''Relax, Y/n.'' He laughs. ''As long as you don't fly me into any danger, it will be alright.''

''I just had to ask. I mean, I wouldn't be able to fly if I couldn't see.'' I state the obvious.

''Well, I'm not on the quidditch team for a reason. But, I can get from point A to point B without any problems.'' He explains.

We take off and start our journey. It's snowing quite a lot, but the sun is shining which makes it look magical. Just like a picture, I think to myself. The sun is burning my eyes, but it also generates a small amount of heat which I'm thankful for.

By lunch we land and have one sandwich each. I try to explain to Ominis how beautiful the nature is, but you can only do so much with words. He tells me that he can see it by picturing it in his head, but of course that cannot possibly resemble the beauty that actually is.

Before the sun sets we arrive in Cape Manor. It's getting dark and cold so we find some shelter for the night before we seek out Anne tomorrow. Ominis lights a fire in order to keep us warm. Throughout the night we discuss several topics. Sebastian's healing process, my feelings towards him, Anne, the loss of Professor Fig. Ominis is clever and has many insightful thoughts.

''What do you think this prophecy means for us?'' I ask him.

I have been unable to process the actual meaning of the prophecy. The awful images flashing in it, the voice cold as ice freezing me into the core. The worst part is that we don't even know what it means for us, right here and right now.

''I don't know.'' Ominis' face looks almost camouflaged from the lights coming from the fireplace. ''But I fear that it might force me to reach out to my family.''

''I can only imagine how difficult that must be for you.'' I say sympathetically. ''How long ago did you cut them off?''

''After I begun my 2nd year at Hogwarts.'' His voice is low. This is obviously something that is bothering him and that he finds difficult speaking about. ''Ever since, I haven't had a family. I practically lived with Sebastian during summer. Which is why it was so hard for me watching him getting consumed by dark magic last year. I saw him revitalize my family's fate.''

''It must have been difficult. Cutting the cords with your family and having to fear about your best friend walking down the same path.'' I say in a soft voice.

''Oh, it was. But it's better this way, not having anything to do with my family.'' He says calmly. ''But it's also why I fear that this prophecy might mean that I have to see them again. Naturally, I have to do it if it means I can save the future from even more and darker wizards, but it will cost me a lot.''

I never even thought about it that way. To me, it was all about the future of the wizarding world. It never even occurred to me what it might cost for the people close to me. And I find it so altruistic that Ominis would reconnect with his family if it meant saving our future. For a prophecy we might not even live to see happen.

We wake up the next day, freezing to our cores and exhausted after a night of awful sleep. In our best efforts to make the most out of the day, we immediately head out and start looking for Anne's house. We have no information about her exact location, except that it's a small cottage next to the sea.

We quickly realize there are multiple cottages by the shore, a whole lot more than when I last was here about a year ago. But one cottage draws our attention. It has a small garden filled with magical plants as well as a thestral. I almost have to rub my eyes. I have never seen anyone have a pet thestral, but I suppose most people cannot even see them. For some reason I am intrigued and walk closer to get a better look.

The house is tiny, not more than 25 square metres and I notice that the yard must be bigger than the house itself. On the door I read Sallow. It feels as if my heart stops beating for a second. Of course this was Anne's house. The plants are exactly the ones Sebastian started growing this summer. The house even screams 'Sallow'. I tell Ominis that this must be her place.

We walk up to the house and I knock nervously on the door. A face shows up in a small window in the door, looking even more nervous and scared than me. The face quickly alters into confusion. Anne opens the door stands in the doorway.

''Y/n? Ominis?'' Her voice sounds as if she doesn't believe her eyes. ''Why are you here? How did you find me?''

Ominis gives her a big hug. He looks incredibly happy, so does Anne. They both must have been to the same hell and back after what happened last year, but could not even find peace and comfort in each other. They let go and she looks at me.

''I can't believe this.'' She says, admitting that she is doubting whether or not this is actually happening. ''Did Sebastian send you?''

''We sought you out. Sebastian didn't send us.'' I explain to her. ''We found something that we think you might be able to help us with. You wanted to become an auror, right?''

''Oh, yes. Like Uncle Solomon.'' She says and smiles. Her eyes look sad. ''But I don't see how I can help you.''

''We found a prophecy. We think it has something to do with me, or at least my family.'' Ominis says. ''Please, have a look.''

He hands over the prophecy to Anne. She looks full of doubt and hesitates before she looks at it. It takes almost a minute of her processing what she just saw before she opens her mouth.

''Oh, Ominis. I'm so, so sorry.'' She says and takes his hand. ''You're the last person in the world that should have to go through this.''

''What does this mean?'' He asks.

I sit in silence, trying to understand what's going on and if I can grasp whatever it is that Anne saw in the prophecy that we were unable to. Anne gives me a strained face. It is obvious that she doesn't want to tell whatever it is she realized.

''I'm just gonna say it. No sugar coating or anything.'' Anne says. Ominis and I nod simultaneously. ''Someone in your family will give birth to the probably greatest dark wizard we have yet to see.''

We all sit silently, exchanging looks and unsure about what to do with this information.

''Do we need to kill them?'' Ominis asks after a good moment of silence.

''I'm not sure.'' Anne admits as she suddenly starts gasping for air, obviously in pain.

She stands up, walks out the door to her thestral and pets it. She is taking long, deep breaths as she is calming herself.

''Are you getting any better?'' I ask her regarding her curse.

''Not really, but I've learned to live with it.'' She looks sad. ''I just have to ask... How is Sebastian?''

''He's getting better. He has been struggling, but he seems to be on the right track.'' I tell her and smile gently.

''I'm glad to hear.'' She gives me a kind smile. ''You know, he wouldn't stop talking about you. I'm glad he has you in his life. Despite the things he did, I still think he deserves happiness. If he can ever give himself that kind of peace.''

I smile at her, thankful to be in Sebastian's life but sad that they can't be in each other's.

''How have you been?'' Ominis asks her.

''Not too well. He took away my last family. I'm still unsure if I will ever be able to forgive him.'' The tone in her voice is sad, but she still sounds very kind.

''I understand what you mean.'' Ominis says. ''I'm still trying to forgive him, too. It's not an easy thing to do.''

''How do you do it?'' Anne asks him.

''I try to put myself in his shoes. Even though I would never walk the same route as him, I still understand why he wouldn't give up on you.'' Ominis gives her a gentle smile. ''There are many bad people doing good things, every day. He's a good man that did one bad thing. And it's really unfortunate that the price for his mistake would be this high.''

A single tear is running down Anne's cheek. I wipe it away and wrap her in my arms.

''I know he only wanted to help, but I cannot forgive him for taking away Uncle Solomon. I just can't.'' She's struggling to put her words together as she bawls her eyes out.

''You don't have to.'' I try to comfort her, hoping that she can find the peace to forgive him. But I also understand why she can't. At least not now.

''But I want to!'' She's still bawling.

''Then you're going to find it in your heart to do so, when the time is right.'' Ominis says gently. He is really good at comforting. ''But now is not the time. You need to be patient with yourself and your feelings.''

Anne offers us a cup of tea and some pumpkin scones. It is really delicious and filling since we didn't eat any breakfast. We sit at her kitchen table for a couple of hours, talking about life, thestrals and magic plants. As the sun begins to set, we must head back to Hogwarts. I give Anne a big hug and some comforting words. As Ominis tells her goodbye, she takes his hand.

''Ominis.'' She looks into his eyes. ''Don't overthink the prophecy. You know what you have to do.''

He looks just as confused as I feel. Anne quickly finishes her sentence.

''Oh, don't get me wrong. The prophecy will come true if no action is taken. But you will find a way so we don't have to walk down that road.''

[emblematicemblazer]

World building and theories of Engage

Sombron; The father figure

Sombron plays the role of the absent father, the kind of father who leaves the minority of the parenting to the mother figure; Zephia. In Engage it is Zephia that punishes Veyle and the Four Hounds when they fail or disobey and with Possessed Veyle is the one to reward them. None of the Four Hounds are seen speaking directly to Sombron, it is Zephia that passes on his opinions and instructions. The Four Hounds are made up of his most loyal followers, just like his biological children, they are tools to be used and discarded. He believes that his biological children owe them their love and dedication; the Four Hounds fulfil that role when he only has one of his biological children left with him.

Marni's eagerness for praise makes her believe that love is shown when Sombron does not punish them for failing him by losing Emblem Rings. In Chapter 19: The Dead Town, Zephia describes his reaction.

 “In fact, no. It was a scolding, nothing more. He impressed upon me the gravity of our role.“

Marni is delighted with this response and replies with:

 “That's all? Huh! He must really love us. Feels good to be appreciated!“

Her desperation for praise from an absent father figure makes her misconstrue what should be a terrifying warning, especially when you consider how he punished his biological children, as something positive. 

Griss‘s relationship with Sombron is that of a son trying to be seen as good enough. Sombron is literally draining the life out of him, letting him harm himself in order to sate his hunger. In Chapter 23: The Four Hounds, he describes to Zephia how he hoped that all the pain he gave to Sombron would be good enough. How he offered his pain to Sombron is mentioned in Mauvier's support conversation with Gregory, (this conversation is censored in the English translation), he describes how Griss would harm himself to feed blood to Sombron. It is a relationship where Sombron takes while Griss has mistranslated pain as love.

Mauvier is the son that is tolerated. He is tolerated because he is the knight of Lady Veyle. His loyalty to the real Veyle means that he will protect her and reluctantly obey the Possessed version. While he is useful to Sombron, he will be tolerated. Mauvier is a follower of the Fell Dragon but he is not brainwashed, rather he obeys because he is fearful for his own and Veyle's safety. Another reason he obeys is because he has spent a life accustomed to doing as he was told and having religion forced upon him without the ability to choose. It is difficult to break out of compliance especially when he is surrounded by the devout, he could be killed which would leave Veyle with no one.

Finally his biological daughter is a means to an end, that is why her kind and caring true nature is intolerable and an inconvenience to him. Kindness means that Veyle has a conscience and would hesitate to obey him or be deviant. Chapter 16: Seashore Travels, is an example of how her kindness puts her at odds with her father's plans. 

 “I've decided that I won't harm anyone, ever. Even if it costs me my life. So I am not going back to Papa. I don't want to destroy this world.“ 

If she is not obedient to him then she is no use to him. Between Chapters 21: The Return and 22: The Fell and the Divine, Sombron tries to kill her when he realises that she is not possessed. He has no feelings for either of the two Veyle's. He does not hate or love her, rather he needs her abilities and powers to achieve his aims, he is as neutral to her as though she is a hammer that once the nail has been secured, he would throw it away. He doesn't understand why a child of his wouldn't owe him “their life, love, their absolute dedication.“ (Chapter 24: Recollections)

[xueyuverse]

Summary chapters 15, 16 and 17 of Qiang Jin Jiu

Xi Hongxuan and Yao Wenyu are the new featured characters.

Yao Wenyu has not had much participation so far, but Xi Hongxuan was the one who “led” the student strike.

The purpose of the strike was to pressure the emperor into taking Shen Zechuan back to prison, and they all said that the emperor was being manipulated, that there are treacherous ministers, which is all very real, and makes perfect sense with who is really the leader of this strike.

It was up to Xiao Chiye to disperse these students, which is bad because this could make him lose the already weak favor that his clan has. Xiao Jiming is already giving his blood to prove his loyalty to the emperor, even leaving his brother behind in Qudu.

“The villain stands before us and the eunuchs endanger the state! The Dowager Empress exercises control over state affairs and refuses to return governance to her rightful master. Those who must be overthrown are treacherous ministers and traitors like you!”

This is 100% true and it gets even better once we know who the mastermind is. 

Shen Zechuan is this mind, he simply got the students to protest against the emperor, to make serious and very real accusations against the government, encouraged through someone else to make them fight against the Imperial Bodyguards themselves, all of this putting himself in the crossfire as you pit your two enemies against each other. Fantastic.

Ji Gang drank his tea and said, “Was killing Xiaofuzi a ploy to let Chuan-er leave?”

So, apparently the one who killed Xiaofuzi was Ji Gang? Or Master Qi?

“Auntie, all the literary talents in the world look to the Imperial Academy. Even the Elder of the Secretariat himself would find it inadvisable to intervene.”

And this is another reason why Shen Zechuan's move was very smart. These students are important people, difficult to have their decisions questioned.

The ironic thing is that this rebellion happened more because of the Dowager Empress, since the emperor is afraid of her and does her bidding while trying to balance it with his own wishes.

If she wanted to ensure the continued growing power and authority of the Hua Clan, then she needed a submissive and obedient emperor.

If Emperor Xiande could no longer fit the role, all she needed to do was replace him.

Well, who would have thought that she has every intention of continuing to rule and change emperors to maintain control while turning the emperor into a submissive puppet. It's because of her that all this chaos is happening, I don't doubt that she has her hand in the Shen Wei case.

[...] However, in order not to offend me, Her Majesty turned around and dismissed Shen Zechuan's death penalty and locked him up. If Shen Zechuan doesn't die, he will become the root of the problem.”

You can better understand why the Xiao clan is having to prove its loyalty. Proving their loyalty means sacrificing their freedom and not questioning the emperor's wishes and orders, which means they can't do anything about the Shen Zechuan case, which is horrible even then for them because the one who put them in this chaos was Shen Wei, and they want revenge. But they won't have revenge because the emperor doesn't want to displease the Dowager Empress either.

Trying to draw for myself:

Shen Wei has made the Xiao clan dependent on proving their loyalty to the emperor for the rest of their lives → the Xiao clan wants revenge on this, but they will only get revenge with Shen Zechuan's death → the emperor doesn't want to give this sentence to Shen Zechuan because he is afraid of the Dowager Empress, who is the one who wants to keep Shen Zechuan alive → the Xiao clan cannot kill Shen Zechuan on their own because that would be treason, that is why Xiao Jiming is giving his blood to prove that he is loyal, because since it is the Xiao clan that wants revenge the most, they are the ones that really have the power to cause a rebellion because the emperor refuses to do what they want. And in this the emperor offends everyone because apparently the Dowager Empress doesn't want the Xiao clan, which is a threat to her wishes, to have a leading role.

Oh and there's also Li Jianheng, who the Empress Dowager doesn't like, and the emperor went against her when protecting him, but he made up his mind not to punish Shen Zechuan. He's really offending everyone here lol 

The Empress Dowager is already suspecting that the one who organized that rebellion was someone from the clans, and as among the clans, Xi Gu'an is the commander-in-chief/translating to teacher of the military fields. One of the minds behind the rebellion is Xi Hongxuan, Xi Gu'an's younger brother, but it will be easier to distrust Xi Gu'an, who is Ji Lei's sworn brother, and if the Empress Dowager distrusts Xi Gu 'an, Ji Lei will also be affected. Shen Zechuan is starting a great trap that will put the royals at war with themselves.

Xiao Chiye also didn't allow those students to be arrested. I believe he did this because of the Xiao clan's debt of loyalty to the emperor, so much so that the emperor praised him. But this is also bad because Xiao Chiye ends up displeasing an important side too, and it's all thanks to the Empress Dowager. Because he didn't allow the strike to continue, but he also didn't let the Imperial Bodyguards arrest the students because these students are important people in politics, offending them this much would put the emperor in a crossfire, and the Xiao clan would lose favor both these students and the emperor.

What chaos.

Xiao Chiye is negotiating fairly with Ji Lei, and will end up losing more things, but he must be used to it by now poor guy lmfao. Fortunately he is smart enough not to trust Ji Lei completely.

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 1 - All Excerpts

Who in their right mind would choose to ‘live’ in a graveyard of a town in Rhode Island over one of the sunniest places in the world, Flagstaff, Arizona?

Well, I did.

Lila must think I’m crazy. She definitely did.

My mother (that’s Lila) had always been a traveller, a hare-brained traveller who had once left half of her possessions in the States on an immigration to India for the winter. What happened to that half, you may imagine? Only the unknown force that made Lila my mother knows. Don’t get me wrong, Lila’s the best, but we were less mother and son and more the adventurous traveller and her wary follower.

Why would I choose to travel then, since another option was given to me? Well, I’ll get to that.

My life story was simple. I wasn’t a miracle, but I wasn’t a mistake either. I just happened, and I happened at the wrong time. My father’s name is – or was, I don’t really know – David Garamond and that was pretty much all I knew about him. Lila was efficient in cleaning up mistakes from her past. But she wasn’t the secretive type either; she didn’t mind talking about her past, and would tell me stories about her time with David. She would talk like they were fairy tales, which many real-life love stories are before they burn out into ashes of leftover feelings where the fire of love and hope used to be.

Lila Teigen and David Garamond were high school sweethearts, and were still going on strong well into college. They were a stable couple, which was saying something, considering how young they were. Young love tended to go wrong. But nothing went wrong for them, at least not then.

After completing college, David asked for her hand in marriage, even though he never got the blessing. Both Lila’s and David’s families were against it, and they promised to turn their backs on the pair if they did get married. But that didn’t matter; they were deeply in love, intent on forever happiness, and expecting a child, which was why David had proposed in the first place. Nothing had gone wrong around this part either. David was the guy fantasy talked about, the hero of the story. Lila had really thought that that would be her happily ever after.

But real life doesn’t have a happily ever after. It never did.

And we have now arrived at the part where things went wrong.

David was nowhere to be found on the day before the marriage. He’d gone out on a stormy night, saying he had some last-minute things to take care of and just... vanished.

And that was where the story ended. Lila would tell me nothing about what happened after that, about any of her struggles with being a single mother, if she ever found David again, or even why she took up the habit of travelling around when it was obviously much easier and cheaper to settle down in one place.

No. Fast-forward 16 years as a nomad named Kenneth Teigen on this planet, and I am currently scowling at the million dollar question of where our next voyage will take us while still recovering from the shock of having to answer said question. ‘Most difficult decision of my life’ hadn’t exactly been on my birthday wish list.

And it wasn’t as though we could go just anywhere, either, which actually made things a little easier. Lila’s job as a digital marketing strategist paid well and steadily enough, but I couldn’t exactly suggest we hop on the next plane to Greenland, now could I? Not that I ever would.

No, Lila had narrowed down my choices to two places that contrasted each other so much and were so far apart that I was fairly certain Lila had just dropped the question on my head as an elaborate prank.

"Flagstaff, Arizona, or Knightville, Rhode Island?" Lila had asked me when my school year in DC was over.

"What?" I looked up from my book, The Picture of Dorian Grey.

Lila unceremoniously flopped down onto the red bean-bag chair and regarded me seriously, which would have been comical, had she not said the things she was about to say. "What would you pick," she began again, slower, "Knightville in Rhode Island, or Flagstaff in Arizona?"

I replied, surprised, "And you're asking me this because...?"

"Because this decision is officially yours," Lila said, a smile tugging on her lips as though she were giving me some good news. "You are going to decide where we stay for the next year." There was a glint in her eyes that could only be described as defiance as she pronounced her last statement.

"No," I immediately told her.

The glint died away. "Why not?" she asked, like a child asking her parent why she couldn't get candy even though she'd done her homework.

"Because I have no idea what to choose," I said bluntly.

"But I gave you only two options," she protested. "It can't be that hard!"

"Hard?" I asked incredulously. "You're asking me to choose where we're going to live for the whole of next year!"

"Between just 2 places!"

"Doesn't make it much easier, Lila!"

She looked bewildered, and a little hurt too, for which I felt a poorly disguised twinge of guilt.

Seeing me soften, perhaps, Lila went full-on puppy-dog mode, and while I had seen it coming and should've been able to resist it, I couldn't.

So, cursing the next several generations of Lila's bloodline (which wasn't smart, since I was one of them), I conceded to her wishes with a grumble.

Now, I don’t know why I chose Knightville. It wasn’t as though it was a good travel destination or a hot tourist spot; it was cold, constantly raining and foggy, and the only colors it ever saw were white, black and different shades of grey.

I just felt, I don't know, compelled to choose Knightville, like there was something the remote town whose name I had never heard of before had that much less remote Flagstaff didn't.

I wasn't fond of it.

Nevertheless, the choice was befitting. Apparently my great-aunt Charlotte (late) had once lived in an old, slightly rickety house at the edge of town. Apartments were non-existent in small communities such as this, and it wouldn’t cost Lila a penny (except for maintenance).

Plus, the house was kind of homely.

It was a one-storey dwelling, painted a pale blue, with a brown, slanted roof. The inside was all cream-yellow walls and creaky wooden floors and the smell of good old 1950s vintage.

I didn’t dislike it, so that must have meant something.

Dinner that night consisted of Chinese take-out and ice cream for desert. I hadn’t spoken much till now, sitting in mindless silence, thinking about nothing, and staring at a small, perfectly circular hole (or was it just ink?) in the wooden floor.

“This flavour of ice cream is amazing”, commented Lila. I’d been, after all, silent for an unknown period of time, and a brooding silence of any sort from my end rang alarm-bells in Lila’s mind.

The truth was, I’d had this strange feeling ever since Lila’s car careened into Knightville. I felt... out of my own body, like I was breathing something entirely other than oxygen, that I was eating foreign food, having this foreign food with another person, that I was in another world, with alien roots that ran in alien soil. Like I was someone else. It was a creepy feeling, and it made my skin crawl.

But none of this was real. It was probably my brain’s way of punishing me because I’d intentionally forced myself to survive in a place that I didn’t like when I had total opportunity to live somewhere else.

“It’s pistachio flavoured”, I said, coming back to reality, “one of the worst ice cream flavours invented in the history of bad ice cream flavours”. I scrunched my nose with distaste.

“It is not”, insisted Lila, “you just don’t like it ‘cause it’s weird. I happen to like weird. Quite a few people do. Weird is good. Weird is different.”

But I would not indulge myself in the weirder aspects of life. While Lila was fawning over her God-awful ice cream, I was silently enjoying classic chocolate.

***********

School was due in a week, a week which was spent placing our furniture in the house, a difficult thing for a family of two to accomplish. Still, this was not our first rodeo – we’d done this exactly 14 times now – but regardless, we never got any better at arranging furniture in an apartment, let alone a house. Or faster.

“Well, the bed’s done”, Lila huffed, a hanky tied to her head, rivulets of sweat rolling down the sides of her face.

“Yeah, your bed,” I said, wiping my forehead, mentally accepting my fate. “I’ll have to sleep on the couch, won’t I?”

“For now,” she said sheepishly, off my glare.

I got up from my seat at the floor and declared, “I am officially done with today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've gotta get out of this house and pray to all the heavens above that it is raining.”

So saying, I saluted in her direction and stalked resolutely down the stairs.

Fortunately, my prayers (which were not yet made) were answered. I stepped out the front doorstep to find rain falling in gentle sheets, letting it progressively wet my clothes as the cool droplets shifted through my hot, sweaty hair. I combed the strands back with my fingers and faced the clouds above, feeling the cold water sting my face like surprises.

I was not, in general a fan of the rain, but I'll admit, it could be beneficial at times.

It was then I noticed a house, a small way across the road, and a girl walking out of it, a black umbrella plopped on her shoulder.

From what I could tell, she had long, straight black hair and wore dark clothing that spanned her entire body. She was walking briskly, like she was on a clock, and kept looking around, her eyes darting everywhere at once before stopping, and lingering on me.

I froze, and felt my heart stop beating for a second. I didn't think about how beautiful she looked, not at that moment at least. I didn't think about how strange it was that she herself froze and stopped to stare at me. I didn't think about how she then abruptly turned around and practically ran down the street, away from her house and my line of sight.

I could only think about her eyes, which were not one, but two colors, for two irises. One was the black of tar and midnight and the other was the blue of clear skies and forget-me-nots. There was no other way to put it; her eyes were beautiful.

Heterochromia was not an unknown concept to me, and for all its uniqueness, it could also look rather plain on some people. But something about the girl's eyes struck me in the strangest way. And it was that strangeness that froze me; I wasn't easily bedazzled.

It felt wrong and right both at the same time, like a sharp needle poking at your skin, but not hard enough for it to bleed.

Her eyes may have been beautiful, but they were hard, reflective, blank, and cold and sharp as shards of ice, like her soul was hidden in walls and walls of titanium, that the blue and black of her eyes were the only walls we saw.

Eyes that I would lay awake at night thinking about.

***********

The few mornings after that were as grey and lifeless as the last one. I wondered as I woke, not for the first time, how the people here could wake up to this almost every morning and still have the energy to start their day and do whatever a regular life demands of them. For even after a good night’s sleep I felt tired, the kind of tired that I wasn’t sure would be easily remedied by a cup of coffee. Maybe half a dozen could work.

I shook my head. I was being pathetic.

I forced myself out of bed and got ready for school.

In the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. Fair skin was part of my genetics, and so was my gangly height of six feet, which did no favours to my breadth. My facial features were too-sharp and my body was lean (the gym and I have a difficult relationship). My hair was an ordinary brown with a coppery tint to it that refused to stay neat, and my eyes, deep-set, were leaf-green.

There was nothing much remarkable about me. I sighed and spit the minty toothpaste out.

Lila, on the other hand, was pretty. She had hair redder than mine, a Madonna-like face with high, sloping cheekbones, and green eyes that were always lively.

When I was done criticizing myself in the bathroom, I took a shower and wore an ordinary faded red sweatshirt and loose jeans.

I went downstairs.

Lila was, naturally, awake, and bustling about the kitchen, performing multiple tasks at once, as was her way, such as juggling her steaming hot cup of coffee in one hand, while trying to explain to her new-found friend, Catherine, who seemed to keep surprisingly military hours, all the reasons why she could go down to the book-store with her after she came back home at eight ‘o’ clock in the evening over the phone, that was, by the way, sandwiched between her ear and her corresponding shoulder. At the same time, she was trying to pack our food (she’d always insisted on home-made for first days at school). It might all end in disaster. No, it probably would end in disaster. It’s Lila we’re talking about, after all.

“Lila, don’t keep your coffee cup so close to the edge of the counter!” I grumbled as she accidentally pushed it off in order to turn to me as I came down the stairs.

The cup made crash-landing, but it was plastic, so it didn’t break. Burning-hot black coffee infiltrated the floor of the kitchen and splashed against the previously pristine white cupboards, curved layers of coffee-brown partially covering them. On the ground, the liquid pooled like water.

Lila, on the other hand, had jumped back five miles, dropped her phone onto a fuzzy carpet, and was looking at me reproachfully.

With a mental curse I said, “oh, god.” And, shaking my head, I came the rest of the way down the stairs, walked past Lila, and opened a cabinet with cleaning towels in it.

I picked a white one with bright red stripes, and handed it to Lila, who gratefully took it.

I picked one out for myself, an orange one with black boats patterned on, and sighed, “come on, Lila.” And after selecting other cleaning weapons of our choice, we dived into the mess.

So obviously, it was with easy conversation and synchronised working that we went our separate ways.

Lila would lock herself up in her office with her laptop and an assortment of files, documents and fidget-toys, whereas I would shimmy on my bike and make my way to Knightville High School.

***********

At the gates of Knightville High School, I stopped.

I looked at my bike, which was parked (squeezed) between two cars, then I gazed back at my new school once more.

The building was greyer and duller than any other building I’d ever seen. It wasn’t too tall, four storeys high, maybe, with Knightville High written in huge red letters at the entrance.

I gulped. Who was I kidding? I was nervous as hell, which was totally idiotic; I’d done this a million times now.

Maybe it was just the fear of being in the spotlight, the downright spooky atmosphere of Knightville, or I was probably just way in over my head, and I suddenly had the totally irrational desire to get on my bike and ride back to DC.

Or, I told myself sternly, I’m overthinking the entire thing, and I should stop dawdling at the front of the school gates and just get it over with already.

So, thinking this, I took a deep breath, and went in.

***********

I’d hoped for a few minutes, at the very least, of peace.

Instead, I was immediately ambushed at the entrance of the main hall of my new school by a girl just a few inches shorter than me, with a bright expression that I would soon come to know was her being cheerful.

At first I’d thought her hair was on fire, and she had galloped to me expecting a waterfall to sprout out of my backpack. A fraction of a second later, though, I realised that that was just the color of the girl’s hair, burning orange, not red, orange, like fire.

Her hair was bright orange. She had hazel eyes with flecks of green and gold in them, sweet pink lips that looked naturally dyed, and freckles that covered the apex of her nose and cheekbones like dust. She wore a white tank top that should be illegal to wear, a brown leather jacket to cover it up, fashionably tattered and faded jeans, and a bright smile that could give the sun and the stars a run for their money.

“Hi,” she said, in a naturally crisp and friendly voice, “I’m Jolene Frost, head of Knightville High’s welcoming committee. Welcome to Knightville High!”

I jumped. “Hello,” I managed to stammer, “I’m Kenneth Teigen.”

Jolene’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly at ‘Teigen.’

“What?” I asked.

“What ‘what’?” Jolene looked a little bemused.

“Never mind,” I muttered.

She regarded me for a long moment, not like I was acting strangely, but more as though she’d just discovered something about me that told her there was more to discover.

Then she peered over my shoulder as though she’d just spotted someone, and called, “Rowan, Rowan!” I turned around, but I couldn’t be sure who she was calling. A beat passed. No one came, and no one looked at her weirdly for shouting that name, possibly because she was popular and wouldn’t have cared about it anyway. With an exasperated sigh, she flipped out her phone and dialled a number. She held up a finger that told me I should wait a minute and heard the phone ring twice before the person on the other end picked up.

Jolene did not pause to say ‘hello’ to make sure the person on the other end was there, instead immediately speaking into her phone, “Rowan Frost, if you do not emerge from whatever hidey-hole you’ve found for yourself, I will whisper your middle name to the new kid.” She said the last two words as though it would be a treacherous fate for Rowan, who I now realised was Jolene’s brother.

A reply came from the other end. Jolene retorted, “oh, I will, and I will do it seductively for good measure.” She seemed to have either not noticed my slight discomfort at that, or she was ignoring it entirely.

“Relax, I’m here,” came a child-like voice. A boy an inch or so shorter than me approached us, detaching his phone from his ear as he did.

Jolene smiled a winning smile, and leaned in to loudly whisper, “It’s Duncan, by the way.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell,” reproached Rowan while looking affronted, before abruptly grinning slyly, “Mildred.”

Jolene shrugged, clearly not the reaction Rowan had been hoping for. “I have no insecurities about my middle names. No one will ever call me Mildred, unless, of course, they have a death wish.”

“You just said you had no insecurities.”

“Mildred is a disgusting enough name to hate without being insecure about having it.”

“So is Duncan.”

“No, it’s only you who hates it because it’s old-fashioned.”

“I don’t understand why that isn’t a good enough reason on its own.”

While they went on with their incessant banter, I studied Rowan a little more closely. He had ash-blond hair that was more ash than anything really, and big grey eyes that at first seemed to be comparable to the grey of Knightville’s sky, but soon, it would look more like silver, gleaming and refracting in the light.

He had a long, thin face that had a fine sort of bone structure to it, all angles in some places, all softness in others. His body looked wiry and his shoulders were slim, similar to a girl’s. It was then I drew to the conclusion that ‘handsome’ was not a word that could be used to describe him – he looked more... pretty, yes, that’s the word. He was rather pretty.

“Shouldn’t we be showing the new kid around instead of wasting time arguing?” said Rowan a little grumpily, after Jolene had thrown a cutting remark at him.

“Perhaps,” Jolene allowed, “but maybe we could just skip the tour.” She turned to me, “don’t worry, the school layout is really simple. You’ll get it as we go along.”

The Frost siblings then took me along the halls, to my locker, through various classrooms and labs, the library, the canteen, the infirmary, other staffrooms, all while accompanying it with more banter, assurances that I could ask questions if I had any, and other interesting details, like a long crack that spread across the floor in front of the chemistry lab that had always been there. It was thin, but not so much that it wasn’t noticeable – in fact, I’d noticed it before Jolene had told me about it – and pitch black, as though it had been drawn on the ground with a marker of the darkest black, and shaped like real-life lightning, starting and ending abruptly. It was strangely unsettling to look at.

“Following so far?” Jolene asked, when I spent too long looking at the scar on the floor. “Any questions?”

I looked up, and spotted someone, walking briskly down the hallway. “Actually,” I said, nodding my head in that direction, “yes. Who is she?”

***********

It was that girl, the girl I’d seen a few days ago, with the black-and-blue eyes. My neighbour, I thought. Strange to see her here.

It wasn’t as though I was particularly surprised to have spotted her; Knightville High was the only high school in this town.

I just hadn’t expected to see her again so soon.

Even as I asked her the question, I could see Jolene’s expression change ever so slightly when she found who I was referring to, into something that was hard to coin. It was the kind of expression someone would put on to hide what they were truly feeling.

“Scarlett Raynott, I think that’s her name,” Jolene said, her voice a little away from her person. She turned to me.” Why do you want to know?”

“I saw her a couple days ago,” I said, still looking at Scarlett as she disappeared around the corner. “She lives in the house opposite to mine, at the edge of town.”

“You actually live in that rickety old house?” Jolene asked incredulously, though with the thin air of someone trying to change the subject.

“It’s not that old,” I said, frowning a little.

“It’s not the fact that it’s old,” perked up Rowan faintly, who, up until then, had been silently daydreaming, “which it isn’t, really, compared to other houses, it’s just the way it looks old. And not very pleasant. We all call it Bleak House – not a very creative name, sure, but it stuck.”

“And now people actually live in Bleak House,” Jolene mused.

“I think that’s an overstatement,” I said. “It’s not that bleak.”

“Some people died in there, didn’t they?” Rowan asked Jolene.

“What?” My head snapped up.

“Fourteen people, I think, back in ‘95,” Jolene said.

“Fourteen people?” I echoed, horrified.

“All murdered, weren’t they?” Rowan went on, unfazed.

“Police never found out who it was,” Jolene confirmed, shaking her head mournfully.

“Wow, you guys talk about murder with such ease,” I said.

Jolene grinned. “I would be more worried about living in a haunted house, really.”

“My house is not haunted,” I said, trying for a withering look but grinning instead.

“They say that there are fourteen small dots on the floor, the places where those fourteen people had stood when they were killed,” mused Rowan. “They were drawn on by the murderer.”

I shuddered minutely. “They never found him or her?”

“No, and that’s what’s really troubling.” Rowan stopped short, as though that last part was something he hadn’t meant to say.

Jolene, on the other hand, was now staring at the space where Scarlett had last been, before vanishing from view, and I felt I had to ask, “do you know her?”

Jolene’s eyes flashed in understanding. She smiled softly, like she held a secret, close enough to her that no one else could see it, hard as they tried, and answered, “nobody knows her.”

And it was precisely then that the bell rang.

***********

Nobody knows her.

Dear God, why had I said that? Not that it wasn’t true, in a sense. Saying that Scarlett Raynott didn’t trust easily was the understatement of a lifetime. Scarlett had been my best friend and loyal companion ever since we were kids, and even still, I constantly felt as though I didn’t really know all of her secrets; most of them, maybe, but not all.

I pushed that thought away. We, Rowan and I, had bigger things to think about.

Like how Lila and Kenneth Teigen had taken one look at freaking Bleak House and thought, this seems homely, why don’t we move in? Like how they now lived as close to Scarlett and endless danger as they possibly can get. Like how Kenneth had actually seen Scarlett, and recognized her.

Like how the Teigens knew that Knightville existed at all.

If I were normal, I would turn to Rowan, talk about what to do next, maybe even seek assurance that everything would not, in fact, go to hell.

But I was not normal, and you knew you weren’t normal when there was something fundamentally wrong with you and there was no term in psychology or any other science in existence that could describe it.

There had been a time when Rowan could bring me comfort and reassurance, with his simple, meaningful words and the thoughtful arch to his brow. But now, it was all I could do to smile and be playful and take up the role sisters should, to keep the pretence, to maintain what we had as siblings. No, Rowan was no longer my sanctuary, the sanctuary he had been when I was young and normal; he was someone who injured me everyday without even realising it, someone around whom I could never be myself, someone who would turn away with disgust if he knew the truth about me.

The second the bell had rung, Kenneth had taken one look at his time-table, muttered a swift “sorry,” smiled apologetically as he did, and bolted. Rowan had looked thoughtfully at Kenneth’s back then, and I could not help but do the same. Kenneth was never meant to be so... human. He was never meant to have a kind undertone to his deep, forest-green eyes, he was never meant to have such a steady set to his face, the kind that would remain the same even if flames of the tallest heights danced on the water of oceans and turned the earth and everyone on it into ash.

I was never meant to like him in the ten minutes that I knew him.

And as he went, I could not help but notice that he had disappeared around the same corner, where the classrooms began and the main hall ended, as Scarlett had, just moments ago.

I turned to Rowan with a fake smile plastered on my face. “Well, that went well.”

“Spectacularly,” Rowan said seriously, “your acting skills were truly flawless.”

I smiled winningly. I knew he was being sarcastic, but I also knew that going along with his sarcasm threw him. “Why, thank you, kind brother mine,” I said, adding a gallon of sugar to my smile and trying to ignore the sting of the word, ‘brother’.

Sure enough, Rowan narrowed his eyes, and I grinned triumphantly.

But of course, he just had to ask the million-dollar question. “What should we do about Kenneth?”

“No idea whatsoever,” I said cheerfully, as though I wasn’t losing my mind either. On a more serious note, I added, “maybe, for now, we should just keep tabs on Kenneth, what his classes are, where he comes and goes, and try and keep him away from Scarlett in general.”

“So basically stalk him,” Rowan said.

“Got any better ideas?” I asked.

Rowan’s brow suddenly cleared, and I knew what he was about to suggest. “I could always-”

“No,” I said immediately. “You could never go on for that long. It would drain you.”

And I don’t want to see you like that, I almost said, but held my tongue. It might reveal too much.

Unable to look at him any longer, I turned my gaze back to where Scarlett had disappeared, turning my attention to the issue at hand, and the reasons why the situation was this pressing.

Because everyone in this town knew the name 'Teigen.'

And we knew that name because of two people, because of the two people, because of the people who managed to get away.

***********

I was probably the only person ever to get lost in Knightville High School.

It was the middle of the school day, and I’d just spent what Jolene would surely call a productive lunch chattering away about several topics, murder included (I guess the Frost siblings like talking about this stuff). It was also when I discovered that Rowan could paint like Picasso, and Jolene wasn’t a terrible hand at volleyball either.

I look at the Frost siblings – Irish twins, I was told they were – and cannot help but think that they seemed in no way siblings at all. Very good friends, maybe, but not siblings or any blood relation at all. Siblings tend to have an invisible bond to them, something that marked them as a unit, but there was no such tether to Rowan and Jolene.

Even their overall closeness was questionable; Jolene had not caught Rowan’s eye even once throughout our conversations, the way that siblings did when they shared secret opinions. And if Rowan had noticed, then it was something that had been going on a long time, since he hadn’t seemed bemused or bewildered by it in any way.

There was also the matter of how they didn’t look alike at all.

But I could not think about that now. If I did, I was going to be late for English.

I soon realised, rather stupidly, that I’d been close to the classroom all this time. Cursing my idiocy, I made my way to the open door of the classroom as though it led to heaven.

And that was when I bumped straight into a girl.

Our shoulders collided messily, I almost tripped over my clumsy feet, and my copy of King Lear fell spine-first onto the other person’s foot, making them flinch in surprise.

“I am so sorry,” I immediately said, and bent to retrieve my book.

The girl didn’t say anything – just did the same for one of her own things, a leather-bound sketchpad with the silhouette of a crow on it as the cover design.

And it was then, kneeling on the ground and apologizing faintly, that we finally looked at each other.

Scarlett Raynott was staring right at me, her blue-black eyes fixated on mine. Her skin was deathly pale, as though it’d been first drained of all blood and then white-washed for good measure, contrasting starkly with her dark hair. Her blue eye glittered like a gemstone, but her black eye remained stubborn of light, completely dark. Her expression was totally neutral.

And something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

But before I could name or place what that something was, Scarlett was getting back on her feet, not even sparing me a look as I did the same, and she was stalking away, her shadow clinging to her feet.

It barely registered into my mind that this was the first time we’d actually met, because something more disturbing caught my attention; two identical narrow, white slits at the apex of Scarlett’s shadow, where her head was.

I squinted.

Were those eyes?

I just thought a compilation of all the excerpts of each chapter would be easier to follow, hence this.

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