#not being able to live in my home village after my mom sells her house is gonna crush me

[phantom-of-the-north]

The European pied flycatchers are back in the birdhouse in my mom’s backyard :)

[waterfire1848]

AU: azula escapes the asylum becomes a vigilante akin to batman and is more effective at defeating ozai fanatics than zuko (much to his jealousy and anger when he finds out) and azula manages to fix the reputation of her nation through her vigilantism and while iroh sends agents to take her down as a threat (succeeding in imprisoning her) ty Lee and mai who have found out who the vigilante is, stand up for azula on the trial and state that most of the accusations for what she did during the war is slander. By the end of it, azula is freed and moves to Kyoshi island to live an easier life, even if the warriors hate her; she even sets up a life as a farmer/trader where she sells vegetables, fruits, teas, herbs, spices and medicine. (Tyzula endgame)

Hello, @supbro50000 !!!

1. Azula gets sick and tired of waiting for someone to let her out of the asylum so she breaks out. She frees herself then rushes to a small village outside of the capital to lay low for a while. While there, a nice family takes her in and allows her to stay. She gets food, water, a place to sleep and does some work around the house for them while she's figuring out her next move. The family that takes her in has a mom, dad and two young boys. Azula grows close to the mom in the house, who treats her like one of her own, and even spends some evenings playing with the kids outside. (Mother: I saw you playing outside with the boys. Azula: I was training. Mother: I'd love to meet whoever your parents are. Not everything has to involve training. Azula: You would not want to meet my parents. Trust me. Mother: I'm sure they can't be that bad. Azula: You'd be surprised.) Initially, Azula wants to take down Zuko and become Fire Lord again. She's just taking the time to figure out what the best way to do that is. However, one night, the village, and family that has been incredibly kind to her, are attacking by Ozai fanatics. Angered that they're hurting the people who have been kind to her (especially the mom), Azula attacks when she scares them off, revealing her blue fire and lightning. Azula doesn't try to remain in the village after this, she just gives the mom a silent nod and smile and rushes off into the forest.

2. Azula sets up base in an abandoned village that was deserted by people years ago. She hunts the various animals, collects water from the stream and buys whatever else she needs from neighboring towns to construct her base. From there, she decides to go after the Ozai fanatics who are terrorizing the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom citizens that are trying to call the Fire Nation home. She's careful, never showing her face, and hardly bends (so no one is able to see her blue flames). Wherever she goes, she takes care of the Ozai fanatics with ease because they don't know how to fight a sane Azula, no one does. She's hurt from time to time but never returns to her base without making sure she's gotten the fanatics to leave. As more time goes on, Azula overhears from various that the loyalists are backing down and are more and more scared to come out. Not because of Zuko's efforts but before of Azula. (EK citizen: I'm telling you. My fiance and I were terrified of staying in the Fire Nation last year. She wants to stay here cause her family is in the Fire Nation, but with the loyalists we didn't know if it would be safe for me. Azula: How horrible. Citizen: It was until that Phoenix showed up. Azula: Phoenix? Citizen: She's this fighter who's been taking down the loyalists. Everyone calls her Phoenix because someone saw her bend and the former Fire Lord wanted to be the Phoenix King so...kinda funny. Azula, smirking: I guess it is.)

3. You know who doesn't like this development? (Ozai Loyalists? Not far off, but no). Zuko. He's not against the fact that the loyalists are being taken care of (that's the only part about this that he actually likes) but he doesn't for the fact that it's some masked vigilante who's doing it. They don't know what she wants or who she's working for and that does not sit right with Zuko. One day, when Azula is fighting, Zuko happens to be nearby with Mai and they head over and see the Phoenix. (Zuko: It can’t be…) Pretty quickly they discover it’s Azula and Zuko is not happy. He believes this is all some big stunt by her to trick people or that she’s working with the loyalists in some way. Mai isn’t convinced that she’s doing that at all, but Zuko doesn’t listen. Instead, he informs Iroh about what is going and Iroh orders Yuyan archers and imperial firebenders to head out and capture Azula. During one of her fights when she’s injured, Azula drags herself back to her base and finds everyone there waiting for her. They subdue her and take her to the palace, throwing her in a cell while she awaits her trial. During this time, Mai talks to Ty Lee about Azula being the vigilante and the two come to the understanding that Azula wasn’t doing it for fame or to trick anyone because she never seems to want to do that. Even in prison, she just talks about wanting to get rid of the Ozai loyalists. The two decide that they have to do something.

4. At Azula’s trial, both for her vigilante actions and actions during the war, Mai and Ty Lee speak up for her. They argue that if she’s getting put in jail then, by logic, so should they and Iroh. (Mai: We were on her side. Everything you’re accusing her of is something we did too. Zuko: That’s different. You two- Mai: I love you, Zuko, but that’s the only reason why I defected from Azula’s team. I didn’t think the war was wrong or the Fire Nation was wrong. I did it to protect you and Ty Lee defected to protect me. Ty Lee: And if Azula deserves to be in prison for her actions then why isn’t Iroh. He tried to conquer Ba Sing Se too. Iroh: That’s different. I have realized the mistakes of my actions and deeply regret them and I’m doing what I- Ty Lee: You had time to understand that you were wrong. How long did you go on your spiritual journey? Iroh: 2 years. Ty Lee: 2 years after the war Azula was helping stop Ozai loyalists. Isn’t that a sign that she doesn’t want Ozai back? That she doesn’t want him to succeed? That she realizes her mistakes? Azula: I don’t want Ozai back. I want him gone and in prison forever and those loyalists would have prevented that from happening.) After much arguing and back and forth, Azula is released and allowed to leave the palace without issue. Azula does leave but she also realizes that the Ozai loyalists are pretty much gone now and, after the trial, she doesn’t want to remain in the Fire Nation. Ty Lee comes to her after the trial and says that she might have an idea.

5. It’s a challenge at first, living on Kyoshi Island, but Azula and Ty Lee get used to it. The Kyoshi Warriors are not fans of Azula when she first arrives, but the firebender learns to gain their trust and prove that she’s not here for any kind of malicious reason. Eventually, the girls learn to accept that Azula know lives on the island. For the sake of having something to do, Azula trains with Ty Lee in the Kyoshi Warrior style(some girls are against it but Ty Lee convinces them). Suki provides her with more than a few books about a firebender who traveled with Avatar Kyoshi who could create white fire (Azula becomes an instant fan). When Azula had mastered the Kyoshi Warrior’s way of fighting, she decides to stop fighting, taking a few years to simply rest and be free. She and Ty Lee get married when they’re both 25. By then, Azula has become a farmer and trader on the island, learning how to grow crops thanks to her neighbors and trading with Earth Kingdom coastal towns. During one of her visits, Azula notices a young girl stealing from her stand and discovers the child (about 4 or 5) is an orphan. She takes the girl back to the island and she and Ty Lee agree to adopt her. 3 years later, they adopt a Water Tribe baby boy (who is a suspected waterbender). (Katara: Not that I don’t love seeing you two with kids, but why not a firebender? Someone you could train. Azula: I was too worried I’d end up like Ozai. It might be harder for him to learn bending but at least I’ll never hurt him. He’ll be safe and loved even if he is raised by two women from the Fire Nation. Katara: Aw. That’s so sweet. I’m sure you’ll both raise him well. If you need any help with his waterbending later in life, let me know. Azula: We will. Ty Lee: *Side eyeing Azula* Katara: What? Azula: There’s a second reason we adopted him. Not nearly as important as making sure he’s loved and supported and- Katara: What? Azula: It’s hilarious watching old racist Fire Nationals at the palace almost have a heart attack when they realize their former princess is now the mother of an Earth Kingdom ‘peasant’ and a Waterbender. Katara: You know what? That is hilarious.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

----

"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

[visit-ba-sing-se]

My contribution to the “what happened to Kuzon?” question, I guess. No canon, just me making myself cry. Kuzon was old. He knew that, and with every move he made his body reminded him. Still, he was crouching over to clean the dust from a statue. The monk that it resembled had his eyes closed and seemed to be mediating, blissfully unaware off the world around him. Kuzon sighed. What would he give to just trade spots with him. Once more, he was not sure if he was supposed to find it rather funny or tragic that this small shed, in a small village between somewhere and nowhere, was where his life had led him. His parents had been a merchants. But not the kind of merchant you would meet on the city market and who'd sell you cabbage or fish. The kind of merchant that travelled to Ba Sing Se or Omashu and returned with ancient relicts that they'd sell some fire nation nobleman. Or the other way around, trade spices that would be used to for the spicy pickled kelp severed to earth kingdom royals. And Kuzon had been accompanying them for as long as he could remember, and a lot of it, he had loved. Counting heavy coins while sitting on his father lap, helping his mother chose between different colored pieces of cloth to buy and sell again for more, crossing items from a list before he even could read the words. And of course, he had met two of his best friends on their journeys. Bumi and Aang. And he had believed that that would be how things would stay, and that one day, he would grow up to be a merchant as well. Of course, in his mind he then imagines being the greatest merchant there ever was, who would have dinner with the king of Omashu and make his parents proud. And of course, that dream shattered as childrens dreams do.  One conversation it had taken to tear his world apart. One conversation that he had listend to from the closet in their living room. Kuzon had used to hide when his parents welcomed wealthy clients, as they had never wanted him around then. Today, he still remembered that one trade as if it had been yesterday, not a century ago.

“You know, the prices for those artifacts are going to increase rapidly soon,” his mother had said, her you find my price to high but there is nothing you can do about that voice as he called it. “It is not like new once will enter the market. And I even heard that the government is striating to seize and destroy those that are currently one it.” Kuzon was angry at himself for not taking a peak at what she was selling earlier. Now they were standing with their backs to him and the view was blocked. “Even if you are right, which is not unlikely”, that buyer, a fire nation noble, had responded,  “don't feel any bad at all profiting from that?” His mother had snapped back directly “Oh, don't strike that chord with me. You want to invest. I have an investment to offer. Nothing more, nothing less. This little intermission won't fool any of us, and you know it.” “Fine.” The nobleman than had sighed, as Kuzon had moved his head slightly, desperatly trying to get a glimpse of what had being sold.  “A pity they had to kill all of them.” “They just made the best fruit pies. And they were so fun at parties.” None of this had made sense to Kuzon. Not until he finally had seen what the noble man had just bought. An air glider. Like the one Aang had had. And with that, it had hit him. Fruit pie. Air glider. Aang. Killed. Kuzon had not left that closet until finally, after he had missed lunch and dinner in there his father had discovered him and ordered to go to bed. Of course, looking back, it was childish. But In that moment, he truly had thought that as long as he stayed in the closet, the reality would stay out. The reality in which Aang, his best friend Aang, the funny, caring and genius Aang, Aang who he had spent some go the happiest days of his life with, was dead. And his parents were selling air gliders for profit.  But of course, the reality was there, and it did not care if Kuzo accepted it or not.  He was just 12, and one might say that a kid that age would not understand so much anyway. But Kuzon felt like in fact, he was the only one who did. The only one who saw all the places in which the air nomads were missing. The only one who saw how fearful the merchants from the earth kingdom that used to be good friends of their family now looked. The only one who did no pretend that their firelord was nothing else but a liar and murderer.  All of that had made him wanting to yell. Or cry, Or both. But his parents had taught him not to do so very soon very well and so he did neither.  But he wrote it down. He started with everything Aang had told him about his people, and what he could remember from the times he had visited. He continued with everything that happened then. When his father got drafted for the war. When they started having to say this weird pledge in school. When the man with the serious face brought the letter that made his mother cry. When they had to leave their big house in the capital and move back to his grandparents into a smaller house in a small village. And how despite all of this, the first thing his mom did in her new, small room was to hang up picture of Sozin so that he could stare down from there as well. He wrote down how after that picture changed from Sozin to Azulon, he applied to university to avoid getting drafted himself. The thought of that made him chuckle now. How smart he had found himself to be. Only too find out that at university they may did not teach him how to kill someone with a sword. But to kill his mind with some words. Of course, he had written that down as well. Just as he wrote down the rumors of the deserted admiral, and the drinking songs the other students were singing about bravery and burned towns. Finally, he got into one last fight with his anthropology professor that got him kicked out of university and close to being arrested. After more or less fleeing town, he cut his hair, hid in a few more closets and stole the passport of a poor lad named Lee. Like that, he escaped his military service scrubbing floors, serving tea and unloading ships on docks. He spent some nights in prisons as well, after fights he had picked at night and after assaulting governmental officials. For jokes about Azulon that he alone had found funny. As the result of trying to convince people that attacking Ba Sing Se would not be right. But no one wanted to be convinced, so once more, all he could do was write down what he observed. The cheering masses and tea sipping towns people just as the polluted rivers and starving fisherman. The children playing war in the streets, already so eager to kill and die for honor and glory just as the factory workers with dark circles under their eyes. He hated to admit it now, but during that time, he had been giving close to giving up more than once. He woke up in the morning not knowing which town he was in, nor how he would pay for dinner there in the evening. He had given up his home, his studies, his name. All because he had not been wanting give up on Aang. He could not betray his friend. When he was not able to fight all of them and stop the war, the least he could do was not to become one of them and instead bear witness for future generations to come. But is just got harder and harder each day, and more and more times he scolded himself for being just stubborn and stupid. His friend was dead. The Dragon of the West was at the walls of Ba Sing Se. And everyone just loved Azulon. What difference would it make if he joined them in? Or if he just stopped trying completely? What saved him was a small clay figure of a sky bison. A woman sold it on the market in a town which's name he did not even know. What he knew, however, was that these kinds of toys were only made by air nomads. And that that woman clearly had no idea how much the piece she was offering here was worth. He bought it without thinking twice. And that was how he finally became a merchant. Trading goods became his explanation for traveling up and down the country, searching for traces and hints, gathering artifacts that one way or another that found their way into the hands of people who had no idea what they were holding. Of course, he had to start small. Very small. But he had learned from the best there were. And he had a goal. “Maybe I am naive to think that one day, the war will be over and the firelord defeated. That one day we can speak freely again and that people will come and learn about the airnomads.”, he wrote down during this time, but when that day comes, they need to have something to learn from. After many years, when Ozai already replaced Azulon, Kuzon settled in a small village, where he lived in a small hut with an even smaller shed in which he kept the artifacts hidden. People quickly started avoiding him as the weird old man who in any other place would have already been arrested but here just served as village idiot. He continued writing, but news travelled slow and when they arrived were usually not reliable at all. Because of that, he nearly did not dare to write the first hopeful line after what seemed to be an eternity. Word has it that the Avatar has returned.

And then after another year, despite all odds and just like that, the war suddenly was over. At least so he heard. And noted that the war was over. And then finally, he put the pen down. Everything suddenly had changed. Yet still, it remained the same.

Kuzon was still alone in his hut and with his books, and still no one seemed to care. He had a testamony to make, but no one wanted to listen. They all just wanted to forget so fast.  And he was a disturbance, since they knew that he remembered.  There were rumors that the new firelord, Zuko, 16 and like that himself half a child, wanted to change things and own up the crimes that were committed. Some people pretended to support that. Others openly complained. Kuzon just would like to believe it was true. But he just had stopped trusting in firelords a long time ago.

Still, he tried his best to maintain the artifacts in good shape, but he was old. He had no family. No friends. And the thought that they would remain hidden here after his death, abdomend and forgotten, broke what was still left of his heart.  But here he was, and here they were. Alone. Suddenly, when Kuzon could already feel his eyes filling with tears, he was interrupted by a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Somebody here?”, it asked.  Kuzon was sure that it was only in his mind, brought back by all the memories. Still, while scolding himself for being a stupid old man, he slowly turned around, expecting to see nothing except for the wall of his shed. But his mind had not tricked him. There he stood, smiling that familiar smile that Kuzon never would have thought he would see again. Aang. And Kuzon cried.

[rwby-oscar-blog]

Mistral, the land of prosperity, and known to have the highest amount of minerals in the soil for farming, known to have the best crops of food throughout all of remment. But unfortunately two orphans were now homeless, lien-less and with nothing to their names, except for the clothes on their back, a hunting rifle from their father and two hand guns from their mother and whatever they got after the fire happened. Destroying their home and the field that they had a good number of crops growing, but now it's just a burnt field and the charred skeletal remains of a home left. 

This wasn't a home anymore, so Ocsar and his twin sister Olivia both left the homestead, to look for another place to live and to call home. 

Throughout their travels, they were able to stay in a tent that they also had among their stuff after the fire, which consumed their home and killed their parents. Nobody in either villages or small town's would take them in at all. The only way they kept themselves alive was through sheer determination and practice of hunting animals for food. This wasn't what they wanted to do, but it was a better way to get some food and a bit of lien, after selling the fur or anything of the origin to medical doctors in the towns or villages. Olivia was starting to develop into a beautiful woman, but Oscar didn't want her to start selling herself like a cheap prostitute or even being a prostitute at all. So hunting was the only thing to do, or find small easy jobs that they could do.

But for sleeping, it was only in the tent off of the main route in a field or among the bushes, near the main road or path towards the towns and villages. It was something at least. Until they made it to the forest.

It was a mighty thick and luscious forest, that had many of remment's tallest trees in the entire world. "This is a perfect place" Olivia looked at her twin confused of what he ment "wait what, what do you mean this is perfect?" "I'm saying Olivia is that, this place will be our new home" looking around the entire forest, there was barely any room for a tent, let alone a cabin to build. So Olivia crossed her arms above her breasts, looking at Oscar "okay Mr survivalist, where in the hell are we going to build a home, in the middle of a thick forest, there is barely any room on the ground" course Oscar pointed up at the sky or among the tree's.

She looked up at the top of one of the tallest trees, then shook her head "noo way, no i don't like, yo..you do know i hate highests, right?.. Oscar, why?" He shrugged at her "why not?, it's perfect, we will be off the ground. The animals will not be able to step on us, or hunt us down, anyways it's perfect" sighing again at the childest idea from her own twin, shaking her head again. "Okay Mr.toughman how are you, let alone us going to get up the tree and make a treehouse, or a base for the tree house?" Oscar just lifted up both arms, took one big 360 turn around the forest, pointing at the wood that was surrounding them.

Olivia smacked her forehead, she was being sarcastic, she knew about the huge numerous trees around the entire place. Placing her hands on her tight short shorts, sighed "you do know i was being sarcastic right?" He just nodded to her "oh yeah, i know" facepalming herself, he placed his bag on the ground getting some tools out, like axe he took from home "well, no time like the present now, let's get started already and finish the base before sunset" Olivia sigh once again and just went with it, for now.

Oscar got to chop down some trees that looked like they could be useful, checking a tree to see if it was coming down or sick, he chopped it down. It was a slow process, but with Olivia's help, it made the journey of building a home easier, but building steps were first. The temporary wooden stairs were constructed without hassle, they got to a height where it was enough to be invisible but visible to them. They got started on the platform.

Time flew past them as they worked throughout the rest of the day into early to late evening, once it got dark out they stopped working. Luckily they just finished working on the main base, or platform to build their home. But left it bare, with a lamp lighting the area above the tree, they set up their tent and had their dinner. As they ate, Olivia would take a glance at her brother's shirtless chest, he was getting chiseled slowly. Seeing those muscles, she turned red looking away 'damn it he is getting hot, wait' she shook her head 'no he is my brother, i'm not falling for him no way' she sighed once again, Oscar heard that sigh " is everything okay Olivia?" Asking his sister about it, she turned even more red, blankly looking at him.

"No no no I'm fine just my mind went off somewhere" laughing it off, she continued to eat her dinner, shrugging it off was the only thing he could've done for now.

Sleeping was even more of a hellish task, still awake Olivia's heart was beating fast and her breathing was irregularly picking up fast, when she saw Oscar. A few times she caught herself, with her hand on her unzipped short shorts, lightly touching her crotch, softly rubbing herself, she also felt her nipples get hard in her small top, at this point it could be called a tank top. Olivia stops dead in her tracks giving herself a good smack across the face, painful, but effective. So she got up grabbing a towel, headed to the pound that they found just a little ways from the forest. She removed her clothing and jumped into the very cold water, letting out a yell, she shivered and shaked. Quickly she got out of the pound and gave herself a quick dry off and put her warmish clothes back on. 

Olivia felt better, for the most part. But who said her mind wouldn't run wild, in her dreams. Getting back to the platform was easy enough, just reaching the last step. She heard a click, knowing that sound, she again stopped in her tracks. It was dark still, but she saw a small little spark of a light coming from Oscar, she gave a sigh. "Who goes there?" He demanded an answer "it's just me Oscar, Olivia your sister" lighting up the lamp, he pointed it at Olivia seeing her there, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the brothers you are safe" then it hit him "wait where in the hell were you" "i was using the little girls room Osc really" he sighed again, putting the pistol back into the holdster, he just looked at her. "Well next time just say something" "how can i? When you are still sleeping ?" "Just give me a shake and tell me" this was going over his head.

Saying that she was using the "bathroom" was her own business, not Oscars business at all, even if he did the same, he wouldn't even tell anyone about that either. Still she shook her head "let's get back to sleep and talk about this in the morning" laying back down, in their tent. Oscar was already asleep, but Olivia was still awake, for a bit. Though she did cool down with a drip in the cold pond, she still felt a little itch deep in her core, so getting to sleep wasn't much of a problem. 

The morning came within about 7 hours later, Oscar didn't waste any time at all and continued to build up their new home in the tree. Olivia woke up later after Oscar and joined in with the help to finish or start on the wall of the tree house. 

After 6 hours of work on the treehouse, they managed to get the main house built with a half of the roof already built, but also managed to get three additional rooms made, one was a bathroom completed, the last two were full bedrooms for Oscar and Olivia to use. So with it being lunchtime and a nice break for the both of them, Olivia had caught a good number of fishes to eat for lunch. Sitting around the campfire, eating their lunch Oscar was proud of his and Olivia's hard work on the new home they were building together, being shirtless was very hard on Olivia again, the sweat coming off of his forehead and all over his chest was driving Olivia crazy and awakening her hormones in her again. She was blushing like crazy, giving her head a real good shake to get her mind out of the gutter. "So very close, we are nearly done with this home of ours, but what are we going to put in it?" Olivia heard her twin asking that, but her mind was stripping Oscar down to nothing, yet she doesn't know how big he was or if had a small member.

Oscar looked at Olivia, seeing that her mind was not here, it was just elsewhere. Waving his hand around in front of her face, he called her name " hey Olivia, hello are you there, remnant to Olivia, it's your twin brother Oscar calling want to answer" finally coming back to reality and seeing him standing there, waving his hand around "oh hey Oscar" "finally, welcome back to remnant space cadet, enjoy your trip" she blushed red "oh sh..shut up you" Oscar laughed at her when she told him to shut up like that "take it easy sis, i was only kidding" again he laughed and Olivia just blushed again even more red "so what were you asking me?" Sighing "I was asking what we would need for the house, we don't have any electricity running through this place, as of yet. But we will soon or not" sitting back down by the campfire, finishing up his lunch fish. 

Olivia rubbed her arm thinking a bit, but her mind was still processing if her brother was packing or not, shaking her head from the indecent idea of not knowing her brother's Anatomy. " Well we do need a decent kitchen set up and windows, a fireplace can be good, if we can find clay or something" Oscar nods to those ideas that would make it more of a home and a place they can be truly happy. Nodding to that, he finished his lunch and he went back to work to finish the roof. 

After a couple of hours of working on the roof it was at least now finished, both standing back and checking out their handy work. "Well i do believe we are done now" Olivia smiled at her brother "yep we did, do you think mom and dad would like this" that hit him hard as well as her, when she heard herself repeated to herself in her head, just looking at him with an apologetic eyes as she just looked at him "I'm im.." She felt his hand touch her head and gave her hair and head a rub "Don't worry about it Olivia, mom and dad would be very proud of our hard work on the house we made" he just smiled as Olivia looked sad.

It was hard on them both since their parents had died, and it was hard on both to realize that they were now gone. 

As Olivia was making some improvements in the new house, Oscar looked at the sun. Seeing it was getting dark and it was nearly time for dinner. "Hey Olivia i will head out to hunt for some food" she looked at her brother, as he went to get the weapons. "Wait, what is wrong with fish?" "Fish is okay, but I do want something more than just fish." Olivia nodded in agreement to that statement "and I can see if anyone had left anything we can use outside of town" that would be another idea. The village sometimes throws away anything that they are not using or can't be fixed at all. Oscar took his father's 70 lever action rifle and is taking the matching pistol's ivory, leaving Ebony with Olivia. 

Handing her ebony, she took the pistol and held it "keep this with you, only use this if it's really necessary okay." Olivia nods to her brother "i will be back soon" "be careful Oscar you're the only family i have left" giving her a smile he rubbed her head "i know same with you dear sister, but i do promise i will be back" both smiling at each other, Oscar left the treehouse to hunt for food, as he got off the last step, he lifted up the stairs up concealing the stairs from anyone or anything, that might come their way. Getting his gun ready he walked towards an empty field to find food. Olivia sits there in the silent room, no tv, no radio, nothing but just the pure silence of the evening.

She laid on the bench that Oscar made from the remaining wood, to give at least a bit of furniture in the house. She laid there looking up at the ceiling, slowly closing her eyes, she remembered him being shirtless and getting sweaty from the hard work he did, to build this new home for the both of them. Olivia's hands went from her sides upwards towards the hem of her tight short shorts, unbuttoning the single button, she slowly unzipped her zipper. Exposing her white panties, she slipped off the shorts, moving her right hand up her stomach, moving underneath her shirt and bra, groping herself. She imagined again, how Oscar looked so built and his muscles were developing, so well. She breathed in a sharp breath, as her left hand moved above her panties and between her legs, she started to move her fingers between her pussy lips. 

Moving her finger slowly between her pussy lips,she still imagine him shirtless, but instead, he pinned her to the ground, kissing her neck and groping her d cup breasts in both hand's of his, she softly moaned, while her right hand grope her breast, rubbing it and her nipple in a circle, while her left hand and trigger finger, moved a bit fast up and down, making a wet spot appear. Olivia softly moaned, rubbing her pussy bit more, picking up the pace, in her imagination, oscar was sucking on her neck, rubbing her breast and moving his two fingers around her pussy, she moaned a bit loud, moving her panties to the side, she rub her clit in a circle slowly at first, but picked up pace and speed, then she inserted her fingers into her pussy, moving them in and out of herself.

Moaning loudly now, in her micro dream, Oscar removed all of her clothing and was licking her pussy and sucking on her clit, Olivia naked and on her knees, bending over was plunging her fingers deeper into her pussy and rubbing her clit faster, moaning Oscars name "ohh...Oscar...oh.Oscar". In her micro dream, he plunged his cock into her pussy fucking her like a dog, she plunged her fingers faster, hard and deeper into her pussy, rubbing her G-spot manytimes over and over again. Moaning loudly, Olivia was reaching her limits. With the last few pumps of her fingers in her pussy, she screamed as she squirted all over the bench and half of the floor too. Panting like crazy just after she had an Orgasm for the first time really drained, she looked at her fingers, seeing how sticky they were. Olivia blushed very red, but she heard the stairs being brought down.

With her ears picking up the sound, she quickly got dressed again and cleaned up the mess before he or someone else came up the stairs. So she grabbed the gun ready to shoot the gun, cocking the hammer back till it locked in place, she waited and watched. Then the figure got to the door, opening it she saw it was Oscar, she let out a good sigh of relief. "Welcome back Oscar" "Thanks Olivia, got dinner" showing her the kills he had gotten, she took them from him "okay let me get them cleaned and skinned, then we can eat" "sounds good sister, i will get the fire started" Olivia nods, watching her brother leave the house again.

After a delicious dinner, they had planned to stay outside to enjoy a late night campfire, just sitting around remembering the good old days with their parents. But a sudden spit of rain started to come down upon them both, rushing into the house getting soaked with each step they took, trying to get into the house. Getting in, Olivia started to shiver a bit, so Oscar held her close for a bit keeping her warm for a bit. "Let's get you out of those clothes and into something warm" Olivia blushed like a tomato, being close to her brother like this. They split to their own room, she started to strip down to her underwear, as she got to take off her bra, Olivia felt her heart beat fast. She can still feel his warmth against her body, finishing stripping down, and giving herself a good dry off with a towel. 

Still raining outside and shivering a bit, she couldn't handle it, she needed the warmth of another to keep warm. She walked over to her brother's room, giving a knock she waited for a bit. The door opened, Oscar still awake looking at his sister. "Hey Olivia, you need something?" She nods to her brother, when he asked that "can we cuddle for a bit, im feeling cold" Oscar nods a bit " might as well sleep here since we don't have blankets as of yet" Olivia like the idea, she walked into his room, closing his door as she walked in, would be the last time, they see each other as siblings.

Laying on the ground together, they spooned together. Holding each other close, Olivia was able to close her eyes to sleep, but something hard was poking between her ass cheeks, she then looked behind her, seeing her brother blushed a bit "Olivia its not" she didn't let him finish his sentence, she grinded her ass up against his cock underneath his pants, she blushed as well, but she had a sly of a smile on her face as she grinded more "Olivia" he moaned a bit, looking at him "you like this huh your twin sister's ass grinding you huh" getting turned on more, she was egging her brother on. Hesitant at first, yet feeling this ass grinding up against his cock, he gave in, unleashing his cock from his boxers, he grabbed her ass and really went to town on her ass. Both moaned softly, while she lifted up her shirt, giving her breasts both a rub. She smiled at him 

"Sit on the floor back to the wall" stopping midway through grinding his cock between her ass, he nods. Both getting up from laying on the floor, Oscar crawled up to the wall, putting his back up against it, Olivia crawled as well, seeing how big his cock was, she licked her lips, taking it into her hands, she stroked his cock in her hand. She heard her brother moaning as she stroked his cock more. Then she took the whole thing into her mouth, sucking and licking the shaft, she bobbed her head up and down, taking it all into her mouth. Oscar wanted to grab something, so he put his hand on her cheek watching her suck on his cock, Olivia felt his cock throbbed feeling like it was going to explode. "I'm cumming" he said but too late, he held her head as he shot all of his cum from his cock and balls, drained everything into her mouth and down her throat. Pulling Away Olivia coughed after tasting his cum "im sorry sis" he apologized right away "its okay Osc" she stood up seeing his cock rise back up from the dead, hard girthy, but very thick. Already wet she removed her panties, throwing it at Oscar.

Catching it in his hand, he looked up seeing her wet pussy dripping, she put her hands on his shoulders, Olivia slowly squatted down towards his cock, teasing the head of his cock, she slipped it into her pussy. Finding it hard to get it in, he grabbed her hips and slammed it in, she yelled in pain as he broke her hymen, making her bleed all over his cock "Olivia you were" giving her a nod, she slowly moved her hips up and down on his cock, the pain was slowly going away, being replaced with pleasure, she and Oscar moaned together. Kissing each other and he grabbed her hips still plunging deeper into her pussy more, so she moved up a bit with just the tip inside, she shoved her breasts on to his face, motorboating his sister. But he sucks on them both, sending his whole cock back into her pussy again. 

Both moaning still, Oscar felt his cock throbbing again as he slowly tried to remove his cock from her pussy, but she slammed hard and kept bouncing a little bit of a time " Olivia i'm about….to...cum..let me pull out" " no cum in me give me your seed plow my field" Oscar got harder hearing her say that, both hugged each other, he finally shots his hot, sticky, thick cum into her pussy and womb. Panting and heaving, both laid on the ground together, kissing each other and holding each other in their own embrace, falling a sleep together

THE END

[girlsbtrs]

How Being a Woman in Hardcore Helped Me Learn to Love Myself

Written by Jen Moglia. Graphic by Laura Cross. 

Since this is my first piece written for Girls Behind the Rock Show, I figured that I should introduce myself; hi, my name is Jennifer, but most people call me Jen. I live on Long Island in New York, and my favorite things include my cats, the color pink, giving gifts to my Animal Crossing villagers, and watching sports. Above all else, however, I love music.

I frequently refer to music as the love of my life. It somehow plays a role in everything that I do. I got my first iPod when I was five years old, stacked with everything from Miranda Cosgrove and Avril Lavigne to Tool and Deftones. Some of my favorite memories growing up are sitting in my pink and purple bedroom singing and dancing along to Paramore’s crushcrushcrush and Fall Out Boy’s Thnks Fr Th Mmrs on the local alternative radio station. I danced for 12 years, played cello for seven, and am currently a wannabe ukulele rockstar after buying one on impulse and starting to teach myself how to play four years ago. Even on the simplest, barely noticeable levels, music has been everywhere in my life for as long as I can remember; even now, I can’t complete a basic task without a song playing in my headphones.

Music became an even bigger part of my life when I started attending live shows. I went to my first concerts at age 10, seeing my two favorite artists - Nickelodeon boy band Big Time Rush and classic progressive rock band Rush - within one month of each other. By the time I was 15, I had been to my fair share of arena/seated shows with one or both of my parents, from Fifth Harmony to Fitz and the Tantrums to Alice in Chains. My first general admission show was seeing the Foo Fighters at Citi Field with both my mom and dad when I was 12, but my first pop-punk general admission show (yes, they’re different) came a few years later. I had the typical list of favorite bands that you would expect from a young teenager getting into alternative music: Neck Deep, Knuckle Puck, Real Friends, and State Champs. 

In late 2018, I was able to see all four of these bands for the first time, and I am a firm believer that it changed the course of my life. I met, cried-during, and eventually got the setlist for Neck Deep at Stereo Garden on Long Island in September. I sang all of “Untitled” at the barricade for Knuckle Puck at SI Hall at the Fairgrounds in Syracuse in October. I had my first minor concussion scare (yay!) before Real Friends’ set at Irving Plaza in New York City in November. Finally, I crowd surfed for the first time during State Champs’ anniversary show for The Finer Things at House of Independents in Asbury Park in December. After just a few shows, I had fallen in love with this new brand of live music that I had just been introduced too. There was something so magical to me about skin covered in sweat and Sharpie marks, feet hurting from dancing in the pit all night, and meeting strangers on line outside the venue who would become your best friends and know your deepest secrets by the end of the night.

After making some friends at all of the pop-punk shows I was going to, they started to tell me that I should get into hardcore music. I was hesitant at first - the heaviest thing I had listened to at that point was nowhere near the snippets of hardcore that my friends had played for me - but, eventually, I decided to give it a chance. I was bored and home alone with nothing to do one night over the summer of 2019 when I listened to my first hardcore album, Laugh Tracks by Knocked Loose. Immediately, I got that gut feeling that you have when you know you’ve heard one of your favorite bands for the first time. I knew that this was something special that I was meant to find at this point in my life. For the rest of the summer, I worked my way through the rest of my friends’ hardcore and hardcore-adjacent recommendations, with Cost of Living by Incendiary, Stage Four by Touche Amore, You’re Not You Anymore by Counterparts, Time & Space by Turnstile, Springtime and Blind by Fiddlehead, Smile! Aren’t You Happy by Absence of Mine, Bad to my World by Backtrack, and Reality Approaches by Harms Way being some of my favorites. By the time the next school year started, I was hooked, and I already had tickets to my first few hardcore shows in the fall.

My first hardcore show was in November 2019, seeing Knocked Loose at Webster Hall in New York City - fitting, right? They were on tour supporting their new record A Different Shade of Blue, which I had become obsessed with the minute I heard it for the first time. Although I was ridiculously scared of getting stepped on and breaking all my bones (yes, that was an actual fear of mine), I had the time of my life at that show. There was something about this newer kind of live music that prompted a cathartic release, one that I hadn’t found anywhere else before. As soon as the show was over, I was counting the days until my next one.

My love for live hardcore music (and live music and hardcore music in general) has only grown since then, and that story sort of ends there. However, I want to go back to that first hardcore band that I listened to, Knocked Loose, and the album they put out that first summer that stole my heart. I was taken by storm as soon as the first notes of A Different Shade of Blue rang through my headphones, but something was different about the third track, A Serpent’s Touch, particularly the ending; I heard a voice that sounded a little bit more like my own.

This song features Emma Boster, who does vocals for one of my favorite hardcore bands right now, Dying Wish. When I heard A Serpent’s Touch for the first time, though, I had no idea who she was. I was used to the aggressive vocal delivery of frontmen in hardcore, particularly that of Knocked Loose’s Bryan Garris, but hearing it come from her changed my perspective on a lot of things. It’s not like the song was super angry and changed its tune to be lighter once the token girl came along; in her verse, Boster sings, “I watched the venom / Overcome your spirit / Jealousy holds you now / Distorting your appearance / Bleed out.” These were lyrics that held the same intensity that the lines screamed by the men held, and they sounded just as cool coming out of her mouth. As cheesy as it sounds, it had never even occurred to me that women had a place in this new world that I had discovered. The audiences in the live videos I watched (and eventually at the shows I attended) were made up of mostly men who looked bigger and older than me. When I did start going to shows, most of the non-man population consisted of my friends and I. Emma Boster, along with so many others, began to open my eyes to the fact that a place for people like me existed in this community. It didn’t matter that I had bright red hair or liked butterflies or wore pink - I was just as much a part of this magic as the men multiple feet taller than me with tattoo-covered arms, and I belonged there just as much as they did.

As time went on and I got more involved in the genre’s music and community, I discovered more bands with women in them, and it only fueled this fire of empowerment inside of me. When I felt insecure, I’d watch live sets from Krimewatch, a hardcore band from New York City, just half an hour away from my hometown. They have multiple women as members, including their energetic badass of a vocalist, Rhylli Ogiura. Year of the Knife became one of my all-time favorites, and their bassist Madison Watkins became a serious inspiration to me; the way that she can balance killing it on stage and running the cutest, most pink apparel brand I’ve ever seen (aptly titled Candy Corpse) amazes me. Even some of the bands I’ve found more recently have had an impact on me. I started listening to Initiate last year when their EP Lavender came out, and their beautifully colorful cover art caught my eye before I had heard any of their songs. Their vocalist, Crystal Pak, is also a woman, and she’s insanely talented. Discovering this kind of representation in this new universe that I had come to feel so at home in introduced me to a world of confidence and determination that I had never known before.

When people ask me why I love hardcore so much, I often give the easy answer; “the music sounds good.” If the person allows me to ramble on for a little longer, the answer becomes much more emotional and cheesy. Hardcore taught me that speaking up for what I believe in is important, and if there’s something I’m passionate about, it’s worth shouting about. I became familiar with this when listening to one of my favorite bands ever, Incendiary (the second hardcore band I ever checked out), before quickly realizing that politics are a pretty common topic within the genre - it’s what this music was practically built on. The first time I heard their vocalist Brendan Garrone singing about police brutality and injustice on songs like Force of Neglect and Sell Your Cause, I realized that there is so much more to music than just sounding good.

However, at its core, the thing I love so much about hardcore is what it taught me about being a woman. Growing up, I was the loud girl with the personality bigger than the room who always had something to say and had a never ending supply of excitement about just about everything. As I got older, I was taught that this was not okay. People didn’t like how enthusiastic I was about everything, or that I constantly had new ideas and new discoveries I wanted to talk about. As cliche as it sounds, I felt like everyone around me was trying to dull my sparkle, especially some of the men that I was encountering on a day-to-day basis. Even when I started to come to terms with my big and bright personality, in turn also coming to terms with my own femininity, I was told that this wasn’t how girls acted. I had to pick one - I could watch Disney princess movies and wear Hello Kitty hair clips, or I could be outspoken about my beliefs; but never both. The women that I mentioned earlier, along with so, so many more, helped me unlearn these toxic mindsets. Seeing someone like Emma Boster take the stage and scream ferociously for a full set helped me see that I could be a girl and still be a powerhouse. Following Madi Watkins around on social media showed me that I could love bands like Year of the Knife and also love heart-shaped purses and wear pink from head to toe. My aggression and passion didn’t make me any less of a woman, and my femininity didn’t make me any less of a force to be reckoned with. 

So, at the end of this love letter to hardcore and the women who run it, I say this; thank you for teaching me that I don’t have to shrink myself anymore. It has made a world of a difference.

[jungcity]

𝟓𝟎𝟓.

GENRE: crime, romance, slice of life

PAIRINGS: bandit!hendery, sacristan!female reader

WORD COUNT: 27,632

SONG PROMPTS: Godless - BANKS, 505 - Arctic Monkeys, Some Unholy War - Amy Winehouse, Robbers - The 1975 | [full playlist here.]

WARNINGS: Please observe proper discretion for this story deals with themes of adultery, orphanhood, child abuse, child neglect, deaths, violence, manipulation and suggestive stuff.

NOTE: This is a part of the crime!au collaboration held by @neovisioned. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Please be aware that this story would have references that revolves around Catholicism. I am by no means wish to be exclusive to those who has the same religion as I. Upon pondering the plot of this story, religion would be a mandatory part, hence I chose mine since it is what I know best.

TAGLIST: @legendnct @cloudysuh @eyypeach @mjlkau @cherub-vivi

i. I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth…

Trails of white smoke circled the candle as you snuffed out the fire from the matchsticks. The heavy rain raged on, with the branches slapping the gothic windows of Father Ben’s chamber. The priest sat on a rocking chair near the aperture, watching the thunder and lightning as they continue to battle for dominion over the heavens.

“Father,” you called out softly. He hummed but did not turn to face you. Over the months that you have worked and helped Father Ben tend to the church, you noticed how particularly silent he could be whenever the clouds are pouring. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” you asked.

For the past few days, Father Ben would tell you about shadows prowling around the church. Two boys, he claims. Sometimes they are three. Bandits, no doubt.

“Be careful on your way home, hija. Bring my umbrella so you won’t get soaked.” And that has been the last words he spoke.

You pressed your lips into a thin line. There would be no point forcing the priest. Perhaps he does not want your mother to worry about you.

You closed the door of the priest’s chamber and made your way down the creaky staircase. The church hadn’t been renovated since the middle of the pandemic that had swept across the whole world. This structure hadn’t tasted new paints and new rivets yet for ten years.

Father Ben resides where the choral sings everyday. Since Father lost all his relatives to the pandemic, he made it built for him. Perhaps that was the reason why he was too quiet. You haven’t lost anyone to it, but you knew a lot of people who died because of it and have friends who had lost their fathers and mothers, even siblings, to it.

You fastened the latch of every door inside the church before you walked towards the main door. Laying the lamp on the floor, you unlatched the wooden door. The blustery and frigid wind flows through the opening, misting your feet and right arm as you leaned to grab the lamp and struggle to open the umbrella.

By good fortune, the rain softened as you departed the church. Bougainvilleas wrapping the façade of the structure made eerie shadows as the moon casted down its light to it. You made your way to the small village you live in.

“Hail Holy Queen, Mother of mercy…” echoes the praying mothers and daughters in front of their altars.

You cannot not help but be fascinated by the orange lamp lights in their homesteads, as you saw the women of every family kneel and make their prayers. Ever since the end of the pandemic five years ago, your village has been humming novenas every six p.m. or eight p.m. at night. You heard it was the same for the neighboring village, too.

“Hail our life, our sweetness and our hope…” You heard the little voices of innocent children as they tried to copy the words. It made your heart flutter. “To Thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To Thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.”

Until you reached your street, prayers echoed. Your house loomed as you turn left. Gathering your skirt, you hopped over a puddle of mud and continued walking.

“Mom, I’m home,” you declared upon stepping your feet inside.

Mom was on her usual place near the fireplace, knitting new pillowcases with the dim light from the fire. She turned her head to see you, then pulls down her reading glasses to examine your slightly soaked skirts.

“I thought you’re sleeping in the church?” she asked as she twiddled the needle with her fingers.

“Father Ben won’t allow me,” you simply answered as you trodded towards the kitchenette.

There was only one light inside the house. It was located between the kitchenette and living room. During the pandemic, all energy had been used to fuel hospitals as well as quarantine facilities for the affected citizens. Energy had been lacking ever since.

You went back to the living room with a plate in hand. Food has been scarce in this part of town. But your mother has a little vegetable farm in the backyard. So it’s vegetable salad every night.

“Tomorrow is the first Sunday of the month,” she began, “Did you prepare anything?”

You munched while watching the needle pierce through the fabric. “Mayor Rosales failed to give us sponsorship. But we have gathered some money from the houses nearby the highway.” Those people who live near the highway were what you could call the richer ones. They have convenience stores lining up, and they pretty much sell anything a villager might need. “Father wants to feed the children this time.”

“Would that be enough? The money?”

“We’ll make do,” you sighed.

Mother hummed. “Bring the vegetables tomorrow, then. I’ve harvested enough for ingredients.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”

ii. And in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord…

He came into your life like a fog in the dawn; mysterious, hazy, and cold. The boy with the secret of the universe in his eyes, and danger playing along his boyish smile rang your door in the year 2040. When hope has only started to rebuild itself after the terrors of a sickness nobody had been able to see.

Easy smile, childlike laughters and soft hair— that has been him.

Your first encounter had been outside the church. Where he leaned in a big motorcycle while puffing smokes from his cigarette.

“Kids, please line up according to your height,” you told the children softly. Big innocent eyes stared back at you with excitement.

When suddenly, Lucy, the other sacristan, gestured to you to come over the front line where the food is located. “No pushing,” you warned the kids before leaving them with Rei, another sacristan.

“What is it?” you asked.

Lucy motioned her puckered lips towards the exit. “Could you tell him to smoke somewhere else?”

You followed her gesture. And your gaze landed straight to him as he blew out smoke from his lips. He playfully inhales from the cigarette bud and puffed it carelessly in the air. He was looking straight at the spot where you were currently glued at. Both of you held each other’s eyes, and you felt lost in those mysterious orbs for a good second until Lucy cleared her throat to gather your attention.

Spontaneously, your brows immediately shot up in vexation. It was forbidden to smoke inside and around the church’s vicinity. You gathered your skirts and sauntered up to him. As you near closer to him, you have caught a sight of a black patch plastered on the side of his neck.

The boy cocked a brow as he saw you nearing. You ignored his reaction and cleared your throat. But your breath seemed to be sweeped out of your lungs yet again when you realized that the black patch was a tattoo. It reads the word pervivo. “Mister, it is not allowed to smoke around the church. Could you please take that somewhere else?”

Instead of tossing his cigarette, he took a long sip from the bud and blew the smoke to your face. Shocked and absolutely disgusted, you fanned away the smoke frantically while coughing out the chemical that has succeeded to reach your nostrils and throat.

“What the—”

“Fuck?” he finished. The smoke slowly dissipates, revealing his dead set of eyes staring at you. He, then, threw the bud to the ground before crushing the ashes with the tip of his boot. “Can’t really cuss in here, can you?”

Such audacity! Your nose flared while trying to collect the little patience left in your system. Boys like him never failed to irate you.

Smoothing out your skirt, you straightened your spine with as much dignity as you can muster. “Blowing smoke—”

For the second time, the boy interrupted you by waving his hand high up in the air. “Father!” he shouted. The boy jogged the distance towards the line of children in front of the church to clap Father Ben’s back. Frozen on your feet, you stared at him in horror.

“Do you know him, Father?” you motioned your head to the boy who was casually smiling from ear to ear beside the priest. As if he didn’t deadpan at you earlier.

Father Ben stretched his lips into what you could call a small smile. “Hendery’s from the city. He’s to be our new sacristan.”

There was literal ringing in your ears by what you have heard. Hendery? A new sacristan? “Wait…” You let out an incredulous noise. “What?”

“I’m Hendery Wong. I came here to be the new sacristan.” The boy stretched out his hand to you. You look at it with reluctance evidently etched through your face.

“I don’t understand,” you managed to say while shaking Hendery’s hand. He has been surprisingly calloused, juxtaposing his soft and pretty face.

“I know you will soon, hija,” Father Ben said, “And I trust you to help Hendery adjust to the work here. Can you do that?”

Hendery’s smile never left his face. It was as if he was relishing to the predicament that you were in instead of being friendly. However, you couldn’t really turn down Father Ben. And it was not right to jump on your prejudices. Cigarettes and tattoos doesn’t mirror someone else’s personality. Hendery deserved the benefit of the doubt.

So you sighed. “I can, Father. Rest assured that I’ll show Hendery around.”

Father Ben tapped your shoulder lightly before joining Lucy to prepare the food for the children, leaving you with the new boy.

“So,” he began, garnering your attention. When you turn to look at him, Hendery’s demeanor has already changed. Or perhaps it was only your judgment getting the best of you. But there was a spark of something dangerous in the way that he looked at you. As if his eyes were the tip of the cigarette he inhaled mere minutes ago. Flickering— with a promise of charring if you ever come close. “Shall we begin?”

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, you sighed deeply. “Could you wash and sanitize first? You know, you actually held a cigarette and we don’t wanna contaminate the food, right?”

His smile grew wider, erasing the enigma he exuded seconds ago. “Do you have a mask? You know, I’ve sipped a cigarette and we don’t want my spit to fly towards the food, right?”

You looked at him sharply. “Yes, we do have a mask. It’s become pretty mandatory since twenty years ago.”

Hendery stretcheso out his hand to let you walk first. From the long table on which the food has been placed, you grabbed a surgical mask to give to Hendery. When you turned to face him, he held up his hands suddenly.

“I haven’t yet washed my hands. I’ll appreciate it if you’ll put those here,” he said  while pointing at his ear.

He really was something. And you have found it oddly… endearing. You haven’t known ice and fire could co-exist in a single person. Until you have met him. You gulped— and you have no idea why— as you draped the strings of the mask around his ears. His mouth and nose disappeared, but that failed to decrease his beauty.

What is happening to you? In your whole existence, you have met boys with stars in their eyes but this has been your first time to see the whole universe in someone else’s irises.

You shook your head as Hendery departed in front of you to wash his hands.

Pretty boys are only boys until you try to make a verselet out of them. That was the line you have never wanted to cross.

Hendery would only be a word. Not poetry. Or would he?

iii. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, and born of the Virgin Mary…

When you were amongst the poor during the pandemic, your survival rate would be extremely challenged. Luckily for you, your father had run a small business that successfully provided for your family during those trying times.

Five years ago, the world made its reset when it came to economy and livelihood. Almost all businesses shut down. The luxuries and opulence of the year 2020 had been vanquished completely.

Billionaires finally witnessed that they weren’t the gods they once thought they were as the claws of the sickness reached their thrones and destroyed their castles.

Regardless of the Internet’s power, trade fell. With it the Internet celebrities in YouTube, Tiktok, Instagram, Twitter— you name it.

Notwithstanding, the 2020’s pandemic hadn’t been the only one to devastate the Earth.

There had been multiple environmental issues, like the raging of wildfires in sundry forests across the globe. World War III also threatened to break out of its cage as countries fought for dominance over lands they clearly had no business to claim.

Police brutality rages on. Their authority had been used for mayhem other than peace. It has breached the lives of people, especially to that of the black community. Everything went clusterfuck because the authorities think some people are inferior to them. They harmed rather than serve.

Chaos. Death. Fear. Those three things have managed to leave a blotch of bleakness that now blanketed the Earth.

The death toll exceeded that of the Black Plague that had swept across Europe hundreds of years ago. Hospitals transformed to that of a colony— the patients as the ants. Total panic enveloped everyone. Especially the poor, whose only shield against it had been a little bottle of alcohol.

Great Depression two-point-o, some would call the economy right now. Minimal jobs were offered, but the salary won’t be enough to feed a family of four.

Poverty’s poison didn’t fail to contaminate the globe. It strengthened its hold to the third world country, and flowed slowly to those in the upper level of society. Despite it all, everyone collapsed on its feet: adults with dreams for the younger generations. Teenager with dreams for the future. And children who were only starting to build their aspirations.

With it, the hopes of the seven-year-old boy who has the constellations in his eyes and a promise of tomorrow in his innocent face. It had all been obliterated because of heartache and neglect.

Hendery witnessed it every night; the shoutings of his mother, and the hopelessness in his father’s face as yet another job had turned him down. His bedroom walls didn’t muffle the sound— the silence only intensified it.

“You are a useless piece of shit!” her mother would scream.

Despite that, Hendery’s father would only cover his face with his hands. He would absorb every nag and every hurtful words his wife would throw at him. Because tomorrow would be another day to fight and he couldn’t afford losing the battle now. At least, that was what Hendery believed.

Never once did he hear his mother ask about his sake. Never once did he hear the words, “What about Hendery? He would starve!”

Starve he did.

A lanky seven-year-old, his neighbors would call him. Salt and rice every night. You only have to close your eyes and eat. Wash down the taste with water and sleep.

The home that was meant to give him comfort had turned his own hell. Its unfavorable walls would suffocate him every day. Its dull and dirty carpet would be his only friend for the days that would come.

And as if the world wasn’t done throwing knives and rocks at his back, Hendery found something that had completely deteriorated the little boy in him.

One day, when he was returning from their neighbor’s house— full and a little bit energetic— he found his mother’s clothes littered over the floor, with it were pants and shirts that didn’t belong to his father.

With his boy heart and still developing mind, Hendery sat in the kitchen. The noise of his mother’s adultery echoed across the whole house. Hendery patiently waited for it to stop, sitting there with his feet dangling from the chair.

Then the door clicked open, revealing his mother and the man he didn’t recognize. From his position to the kitchen, his mother failed to notice him. But Hendery could see everything unfolding before his very eyes. The unknown man picked up his clothes. When he was completely dressed, he fished for his wallet and handed Hendery’s mother money.

That night, there were sausages and eggs in the table. His mother was enthusiastic, but there was a dull spark in her eyes. His father, too, despite the smile on his lips, was a flash of apology in his orbs.

Hendery slept soundly. A tear escaping his eye.

“Why are you crying?” You crouched in front of a boy named Kristan. Snot and tear has already mixed up in his face to create dirty splotches. You held his hands softly to put beside his body.

Kristan sniffed. But did not answer.

“Kristan, tell me what happened,” you gently asked. His head bowed down deeper, as if he was embarrassed and scared to tell you anything. Kristan, he was one of your favorites despite his silent comportment and shy eyes.

Ever since Father Ben decided to teach the children from the village basic education at the church, you have been curious about Kristan. There was something about the boy. Sadness. Melancholy. Loneliness.

“I am here—” You were interrupted by Hendery, who also crouched beside Kristan. “What are you doing?” you deadpan.

Hendery ignored you, as he focused on Kristan. He puts his hand on his shoulder and pulls down his mask. “Tell me who among these kids beat you up,” he whispered, “Was it him?” Then he pointed towards the other boy who was curiously watching the three of you.

The slightest shock adorned Kristan’s face. He looked at you warily, obviously perturbed by Hendery’s presence.

You smiled at him to tell him it’s alright. And that he doesn’t need to be cautious around Hendery. Although you didn’t know about that yourself. Hendery was still a mystery.

“They… didn’t hurt me,” Kristan said through his snuffles. “Thank… you, Miss Y/N,” he added, then he looked at Hendery, “And to you… Mister…?”

“Hendery. Call me Hendery.”

“Mister Hendery,” Kristan said, practicing the new syllables of Hendery’s name. Kristan bowed before walking towards the line of boys again.

Concerned about the well-being of the boy, you sighed. When you turned to go back to packing the foods, Hendery walked up towards Kristan again.

“What is this?” he asked while slightly pulling up the little boy’s sleeves. There was a purple mark right on his arm. Something that definitely resembled a contusion.

When Kristan realized what was happening, he flinched away from Hendery.

You hurried beside him once more, brows furrowed. “Kristan, what is that?”

His eyes were fervent, lips quivering while wriggling free of your hold from his arm. Because of the fear that you might hurt him, you let Kristan go. He ran away.

Father Ben rushed towards you, robes billowing like waves against the pavement. “What is happening?” he asked.

You shared a look with Hendery before answering, “Hendery and I saw something in his arm— something like a bruise,” you explained. “Father, I think there’s something going on with Kristan, and I am deeply concerned about his well-being.”

The priest listened and nodded his head. “Follow me, the both of you,” he commanded before pivoted on his heel.

Without offering Hendery a glance, you followed Father Ben inside the church and to his chamber. When all three of you were secured inside, Father Ben locked the door.

You couldn’t help but observe Hendery as he roamed his eyes around the room. As if he was searching for something. Something valuable. But when he looked at you, he smiled and all your doubts vanished in a blink. How could happiness and sadness co-exist at the same time in someone else’s body?

The sound of papers shuffling woke you from your reverie. Father Ben raised up a paper, and studied it with his reading glasses.

“Here is Kristan’s birth certificate,” he announced. “His mother died giving birth to him. Kristan is being taken care of his father, his alcoholic father, at their house in the southeast part of the village.”

You listened carefully to each word. You already know that Kristan’s only living parent was his father. But never once did Father Ben shared the reality of him being alcoholic. Goosebumps crawled onto your back as realization slowly weaved its way through your mind.

“His father’s hurting him,” Hendery pronounced beside you.

Father Ben hummed. “That, we do not yet know. So it’d be really helpful if the both of you would venture to their house and check for your own eyes. I would’ve gone myself but I won’t be able to fight his father if it ever comes to that,” Father Ben continued, “He’s quite well-known as an aggressive man.”

“And… I suppose Hendery could fight him off?” You raised a brow. Hendery’s built wasn’t like that of a body-builder. He definitely belonged to the species of boys with sad eyes and skinny bodies. Dangerous. Utterly dangerous.

He chuckled— a quite rumbling sound that could stir butterflies inside a woman’s stomach. “I’m quite a fighter, Y/N,” he said.

You sighed. “Let’s just hope that it won’t come to aggression.” Then you focused your attention back to the priest. “What of me? What can I contribute, Father?”

Father Ben placed the paper back to his drawers. “You have your wits in you, hija. Convince his father to give us Kristan for a while until he gets his life on the right path.”

After Father Ben’s instruction, the both of you made your way down the stairs. You still couldn’t understand why Father Ben asked Hendery to come. He was from town after all. Townspeople weren’t so used to life in the countryside. In their towering factories and buildings, they still pretend that they have the glory of the past.

“Are you really from the city?” you asked, turning your body to face him. He descended the last step while you stood on the second.

His steps halted at the question, then he tilted his head quite a bit too see you. “What of it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Having someone journey here from the city’s pretty unusual.” You descended the stairs and walked ahead of him.

“Having villagers in the city’s never been heard before,” he snorted.

Your brows furrowed. Was that an insult? Or was he simply baiting you? Whatever that meant, you halted. “What are you implying? That we don’t have the means to go to the city?” When Hendery shrugged, you puffed out your chest and held your chin up high. “Well, must I say to you that it’s pretty decent living in here than pretend to have riches in the city.”

He only chuckled, driving you irate even more. “We don’t pretend, Y/N.”

You have decided not to answer for your own well-being. He was truly a city boy. Arrogant. Condescending. Too full of himself. And you mustn’t bother yourself with him. Hendery was on the other side of your own spectrum. There was no point understanding a boy you have just met.

“Oh, wait.” You halted when you finally reached the exit door of the church. “I’ll ask Lucy if you could borrow her bicycle.” When you turned to leave, Hendery caught your wrist. Everything about you stopped functioning by the touch. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to boys holding you— but yes, you could say that.

“We can ride my motorbike,” he suggested, “Much more convenient, don’t you think?”

Oh, no. No, no, no. If the year 2020 had learned its way towards openness and liberty, well, 2040 failed to adapt to that. “No,” you simply answered.

“No? What do you mean no? You’ll only ride behind me, then we’ll take off.”

You groaned. “City boys.” If anyone would see you riding a big motorbike, they would curse you as if you were the demon. You despised the notion yourself. And it was really tempting to try new things once in a while. Perhaps you were only being stupid— or naive. There was no harm riding a big black and shiny motorbike, right? You heaved out a deep sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

Hendery’s confused visage turned to that of a bright one when he, once again, flashed you his pearlescent teeth. He jogged the distance towards his motorbike. Without any word, he hopped and snapped the pedal with his right foot.

“Hop in,” he said.

You raised a brow. “Helmet?”

“Church girls,” he groaned. You opened your mouth to speak, but Hendery once again cut you off, “Where is the fun in riding a motorbike if you’d wear a helmet?”

“Hendery, it’s a safety protocol if you aren’t—”

Once again, he groaned, “Where’s the fun in ‘safe’? Hop in.” He tilted his head to the side, encouraging you to finally hop in his motorbike.

“I think I’m gonna ride—”

“Y/N,” he firmly called, “Sometimes, you also have to taste the danger.” Then he reached for your hand. You would have flinched away, but the warmness of his palm hindered you from doing so. “Don’t you trust me?”

Trust? Mother says don’t talk to strangers. It has been a mantra of every little girl as they grow up. But you aren’t a little girl no more.

Other than his melancholic eyes, his name is all you know about him. And how could you trust the swirl of danger in his irises? However, humans are vexatious. They don’t always follow the rules.

When you are fed with deprivation of something extraordinary, you grow hankering after it.

You took Hendery’s hand. With your heart thudding inside your chest, you grasped your skirt and pulled your body upwards to sit on his motorbike. Hendery revved the engine, twisting his hand around the accelator.

“Please, slow down—!” Your chests collided against his back by the impact. Hendery chuckled, but he did not heed your cries. He rode through the road ahead, shoulders still rumbling of his laughters.

Skirt ballooning out, you prayed to God that you won’t meet your doom today. This has been a bad idea. A very bad one at that. What would people say if they witness a sacristan— a sacristan woman— riding this black motorcycle? With her skirts billowing out in the open? Oh, no. Your mother would whip you to shreds.

“Where are we going?” Hendery shouted.

You clutched on his front shirt tightly, afraid that the wind would surely swoosh you away if you do so much as to slacken your hold. “Where are we now?” you shouted back. Because you refused to sit up straight, you shielded yourself with Hendery’s body. And now your position shielded you away from seeing anything other than the road beneath the wheels.

“Y/N, please sit up straight.” He laughed. Oh, this boy relishes to your suffering. He really was. “We are currently entering a village…?”

You willed yourself to sit. Surely, it won’t kill you. You have seen actresses ride behind their own James Deans in big motorcycles such as this one.

“Alright, alright, I’ll slow down.” But Hendery’s words were muffled by the air. However, you felt the wheels roll slowly as it enters your village. Your village. Oh, no.

“No, please don’t! Faster, Hendery!” When he refused to rev the accelerator, you pinched his sides.

“Aw! Alright, alright!” Without another word, Hendery drove through the houses.

You obscured our face as much as you could. You couldn’t afford having someone recognize you. It won’t happen.

“Y/N, where are we going?” he asked for the second time. “We’re away from the houses. No one can see you here but the grasses,” he taunted.

You opened your eyes and saw the ground below, as well as the grasses. It only means you were well away from your village. You exhaled and sat up. “Turn left.”

“Left? Is there life at the end of this road?”

You deadpanned, “City boys.”

“No, seriously?”

“Yes, there is Hendery. It’s the most isolated part of the village— please look at the road,” you reminded him when he attempted to face you sideways.

“Kristan’s from here?”

“Apparently.”

He nodded his head. “He walks this distance every day?”

“Yes.”

It was somehow weird to talk about life in the countryside with a city boy. If Hendery was, indeed, from the city. You have no idea about the city ever since the pandemic. This has always been your home; the trees, the grasses, the kind neighbors, and a pious village. The liveliness of the wen— if claims were to be trusted— has been no more than a thing left in the back of your mind. It was almost a name you have no idea how to pronounce.

“You, too?” Hendery asked. A question you didn’t expect to hear.

“Uh-huh.” Then a chuckled. “We’re left with no choice since we have no resources when it comes to vehicles.”

“How do you go to the city, then?”

“We don’t go to the city. Unless it is needed.”

Hendery hummed. “And how do you go?”

“We ask the chieftain to lend us the ambulance.”

“The ambulance?” he asked.

The road becomes bumpy because of rocks, so you hold on him tightly once again. Hendery chuckled at your action, but did not bait you.

“Yes,” you answered. “Oh, we’re here,” you announced as Kristan’s village looms ahead. It was shielded away from your eyes because of the trees circling the whole vicinity.

“Do they sleep with snakes here?” There wasn’t any jeer to his voice, only curiosity.

You snorted. “Why don’t you stay for the night to try?” You gathered your skirt then planted your heel to the ground. With a swing of your leg, you hopped off his motorbike.

“I’d like to.” Hendery fished out a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. He pressed one between his fingers and lit the tip with a lighter.

“Is that necessary?” you asked.

People in this part of town weren’t welcoming. That was why it didn’t come off as a shock to know that Kristan’s father was alcoholic. It simply was the way of living here: alcohol, cigarettes, cards. That being said, having an outsider such as Hendery venture here could provoke the most hard-headed fathers and boys alike.

Hendery sipped then  blew smoke out in the air. “What are you scared of?”

For a minute, you caught a spark in his irises. It was as if he didn’t ask about your fears— but your insecurities. And of the things you wanted to try but couldn’t. Or perhaps it was only you, digging deeper into the simple question.

“God,” you simply answered.

“There is no god,” he retorted.

That caught you off-balance. An aspiring sacristan wouldn’t say that. “Father says you want to be a sacristan. How could you? When you don’t have any faith?”

Hendery stopped for a second before blinking. “There is no god but God the Father Almighty in heaven.” Then he flashed you a smile. You furrowed your brows. “Shall we?” he asked, throwing out his cigarette to the ground.

You shrugged.

Different sets of eyes pierced your bodies as you and Hendery trodded the dusty road. Mothers with their youngest born straddling their waists peered through wooden gates. Fathers with their cigarettes and beer bottles scrutinized you from head to toe. You were covered from your neck down your heel, but they look at you as if you were naked.

Hendery beside you exudes indifference. Shoulders straight and chin up high, Hendery stared every man down. You didn’t know if that’s a good idea or not. The last thing you need was a brawl between him and the juveniles surrounding you.

Finally, you have reached Kristan’s home. It ws made of cement and sawali, just like most of the houses you have just passed by.

You smoothed out your skirt before knocking. One, two, three knocks before his Father greeted you with a grunt.

“What d’ya want?” he asked  in a rumpled voice.

Hendery stepped beside you. “We’re here to talk.”

Kristan’s father wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t have anytime for you—”

“It’s about Kristan,” Hendery stated, jaw clenching.

To be honest, you didn’t expect him to make the talking. You could do it yourself. But you were still thankful that he was with you right now.

Kristan’s father rests his body against the doorframe. “What about my son?” Yes, he did ask about his son. However, there wasn’t any trace of concern in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Father Ben wants to take care of Kristan for a while, until we’re sure that he’s safe living here.”

You heard the crashing of his beer bottle first, before you felt the tightening of your throat by the way he grabbed your collar.

“No one tells me what to do—”

Your first instinct had been to lash out on him, but your anger got the best of you. Before you could act out on your own, Hendery wrapped his hand around the man’s wrist. With force, he pushes him away and twisted the bone.

You stared in horror as Kristan’s father screamed in pain while holding his broken wrist. “Hendery!” you shouted as he sauntered towards the man. Hendery grabbed his head and slammed his knees against his nose, once again cracking the bones.

Thunderstruck beyond comprehension, you flew towards Hendery. “Hendery! Stop!”

Kristan’s father was on the ground, clutching his bleeding nose. Hendery towered over him with clenched fist, ready to pounce at any given time. Before he could swing yet another blow, you already lay hold of his arm.

“What are you doing?!” you asked, out of breath.

“Beating the shit out of him,” he said in nonchalance.

“That— isn’t what Father Ben asked as to do,” you reminded him, despite the fact that Father Ben indeed expected a brawl.

Hendery’s muscles relaxed nonetheless. He pointed a finger towards Kristan’s father who’s still on the ground, glaring at the both of you.

You grapple for words— anything. “Did you hurt your son?” you ask.

“What of it? You don’t have a child so you won’t understand how it is to discipline one,” he answered.

Hendery crouched. You grabbed hold of his back collar. “You fucking hurt your son again,” he spits, “I will kill you.”

“Father, I’m home— Miss Y/N?”

The three of you turned your attention towards the little boy who entered the house. Kristan. He was holding a plastic of what you could tell was a bag of vegetables.

Kristan’s eyes turns to Hendery, and to his bloodied father. “Mister Hendery? What are you doing here?”

“You’ll come with us for a while,” Hendery said.

“What is happening?”

You crouched in front of the boy and lay hold of his shoulders. “Father Ben asked us to take you back to the church. Where you’ll stay for a while until your Father learns how to be a good one.”

“Really?” Kristan asked in relief.

Has this house been his hell that it’s a relief to be away from his father? You frowned at the thought.

“But… Father— he’s going to be alone.”

“Ask your Father. We still need his approval after all,” you explained.

Kristan walked towards his father, who was standing and padding his pants. Hendery crossed his arms over his chest, watching the man warily.

“Father, is it okay if I’ll leave for a while? Will you be fine?” the little boy asked.

“Go! Do what you want! Don’t come back!” he shouted.

However, Kristan didn’t flinch. It was as if he had been to used to this kind of treatment. “Alright, I’ll come back. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.” Then he hugged his Father’s hips.

You looked away, unable to watch the scene unfolding before your eyes. It would seem as if Hendery couldn’t take it in himself, for your eyes crossed as he looks away, too.

“Take care and be good. I love you, Father.” Kristan turned his back against his Father. He smileed at you and took your hand. You held his hand tightly and spared his Father one last look.

He turned his back the same time his tear slid down his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat before bowing slightly as a goodbye.

iv. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried…

Pandemic and poverty, it truly was a wonder how Hendery survived such dreadful times. Perhaps there was really a god, lurking somewhere, ready to grant the wishes of the people during those awful times.

Yet as far as Hendery was concerned, nobody prayed for him when the pandemic striked him. Right, this lanky seven-year-old’s suffering didn’t end after he found out about his mother’s adultery.

At first, Hendery brushed off the heaviness of his eyelids together with his parched throat as a common sickness. He never told his mother or father about it, for the fear that it might fruit into something their financial stability won’t be able to answer for.

But then hours had gone by, with Hendery’s air passage slowly closing in on him. As if a boulder was placed right in on his lungs, demanding his life by choking him. Cough dry and head aching, Hendery twisted and turned on his bed, unable to think clearly. He felt as if he was dying— dying in the most horrible way possible.

Thereafter, he believed that he had gone in and out of consciousness, or perhaps it was only his vision going blurry from the ache his body was trying to fight off.

Hendery failed to recognize his father as he leaned to check his son. And he failed to recognize the feeling of being scooped up from the bed, with his father shouting for help as if his life depended on it.

Blotches of darkness swam in his line of sight. The cries of his mother as well as the panicked shouts of his father were muffled by his coughing.

Would this be the end? Was this the life the gods had planned out for him? To die young? To die without a fight? How do you accept this fate?

For once, he wanted to see the end of this pandemic. He wanted to witness the rainbow after this storm. For once, he yearned to see something beautiful. Just once.

Hendery fully succumbed to oblivion.

When he woke up, it was the white light that filled his vision. Was it heaven? Hendery tried to make sense of his surroundings, but no noise could be heard other than the beeping of machines around him.

His eyelids fluttered open completely. The ceiling to where his hospital bed was located flashed above him like a canvas of nothing but white. There was a tightness in his nose, and he realized that he was breathing through an apparatus.

Hendery tried to move his fingers. They were mobile, albeit frail. It’s the same with his feet. Perhaps it was the incessant ravaging of the cough against his lungs that made him sick to the bones. He would’ve thanked whoever there was to be thankful for, if not for the uncertainty that was still stretching out in front of him. The pandemic wasn’t a one-night killer. It would render you infirm for weeks— it’s only up to the doctors and your own antibodies if they won’t collapse and give up on you.

And Hendery’s feeble state, as well as his age, failed to give him much hope.

He would die, right there— alone. God has shunned him away. He refused to cry, since no amount of tears could appease the loneliness inside him.

Hendery closed his eyes again.

The second time he woke, the doctors were smiling in front of him. The nurses guided him out of his bed. They even helped him get dressed in new clothes. Baffled was an understatement for what he felt that day. Was he out of danger? Could he truly live now? With his mother and father once again?

For the first time since his life went downhill, Hendery smiled. There wasn’t a reason not to. If he could, he would jump from happiness. He did it. He survived.

Hendery excitedly roamed his eyes around him from the wheelchair, hoping to finally meet his parents after weeks of being separated from them. Yet no familiar faces greeted him when he reached the exit of the hospital.

A clawing feeling rested in his stomach, but he couldn’t afford to cave in his fear. Hendery remained smiling until a middle-aged woman stood before him.

“Are you Hendery?” she asked.

“Yes. I am,” Hendery answered without looking at the woman. He was busy searching for his parents.

“Thank you so much for taking care of my niece. I’ll  forever be grateful for your service. I’ll take him from here,” the woman announced.

“Wait—” Hendery turned around to see the woman taking the wheelchair from the nurses. “Where’s my Mom? My Dad?”

“Hendery, I’ll explain once we reach the house,” his apparent aunt said.

Hendery pursed his lips together. “Is Mom and Dad—”

“Be quiet,” the woman said softly.

Hendery had been quiet thereafter.

Hendery looked up to see the stars in the skies. How pretty they truly were. He won’t blame those who wishes upon these twinkling white lights. But he would feel utterly stupid himself to whisper his dreams to these scintillating lights that would die later on.

Supernova, scientists call it. It is the dying of a star. It is its return to atoms, particles, or whatever shit there is in the universe even before matter and time took its place.

Hendery let the liquor grate his throat as he took yet another swig from his bottle. Liquor and unwanted memories? Sign him up. Deep conversations with himself? He might be heartless in the eyes of many, but Hendery knew how to contemplate things. Too bad that he didn’t have anyone to share his thoughts with.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Oh, perhaps there was.

Aghast by the fact that there were empty bottles littered all around him, you gazed at Hendery.

It had been a week since he arrived at the church, telling everyone that he wanted to be a sacristan. So far, so good. He was a fast-learner albeit not showing any interests when it came to talking about the Bible. You still had your doubts in the pockets of your skirts. And seeing him drinking himself right behind the structures of the Church only intensified your wariness.

But the boy faced you with a smile. “Drinking,” he answered with a shrug.

“I know you are drinking,” you seethed. “But why are you drinking?”

It was past six p.m. already. You had completed your duties to the Church, and had also tucked in Kristan to the sacristan’s quarters just below Father Ben’s own chamber.

“To let off some steam.”

You stomped towards him with your chest puffing out of irritation. “First, you smoke on your first day. Then you drink on your first week. What on earth is wrong with you, Hendery?”

“Why don’t you sit with me for a while?”

You flew your arms to the air. “You are unbelievable.”

Hendery leaned back. “Aren’t you curious about me?”

“I am—” You closed your mouth. The words slipped out before you knew it.

His smile only widened . “Father Ben’s secured in his chamber. There is no need to fret.” He motioned his head down the space beside him. “Sit.”

They said drunk men speak the most truth. If you could squeeze anything out of him by joining him tonight, you would. With a heavy heart, you sat beside Hendery. The acrid smell of the alcohol whiffed your nose like a whiplash instantly.

“Now,” he began. “Ask me anything you want.”

“Where are y—”

Hendery pressed a finger to your lips. “In one condition: drink.”

You swatted his hand away with a frown. “I’m going.” But before you could stand up, Hendery held your wrist.

“I’m kidding,” the boy said  with a chuckle.

There. That smile. That chuckle.

“Seriously.” You sat comfortably again. “Where are you from?”

“The city,” he answered. “I was born in the city. It’s all I’ve ever known ever since.”

“The pandemic hit the city hardest,” you commented. It was true, though. Because of their lifestyle and opulence, the pandemic moved way faster in the city compared to the villages.

“Yes, it did,” he whispered before downing the last gulp from his bottle. Hendery burped softly before tossing the empty bottle to the grass.

“One, two, three, four—” You scrunched your nose. “Five bottles. Now tell me, where did you get these?” you asked, pertaining to the liquor.

Hendery looked at you as if you beguile him to the fullest. “Convenience store. You have it here.”

You shot up a brow. “And you decided it best to consume them here? In the Church?”

“If it wasn’t obvious, yes.”

“I don’t have anything against you, smoking and drinking, but we shall set a good example to the children.”

Hendery quirked a brow. “Do you think smoking and drinking are bad examples?”

“Personally? No.” It was true. You didn’t think they were bad examples. It was always the person. But the church-goers were mostly children. They still don’t have the capacity to balance the right and the wrong for their age. Eventually, they would know. However, it was your duty to protect their innocent minds as best you could. “But there are children here. We must guide them.”

“They’ll learn to smoke later on.” He shrugged.

You hummed. “That, we aren’t sure of. Until then, let’s guide them first.”

“You’re truly devoted to being a sacristan, aren’t you?” Hendery asked, his head looking up to the skies.

You watched him in silence. His side profile was undeniably beautiful. You have never seen such soft features, to be honest. “Yes, I am.”

“Is that your dream?”

You tilted your head up to see the skies yourself. The stars were sprinkled like white sands against the darkness of the heavens. You smiled. “I have a lot of dreams, though. Like the stars above, they are somewhat implausible.”

It was his turn to look at you. If he was to be honest, Hendery found your face marvelous. He had never seen your likeness in the city. “Why do you say that?”

Perhaps someone would find it funny that you were opening yourself up to this boy. A boy you just met one week ago. However, there was a space in your heart that tells you it’s alright to tell Hendery all your dreams and worries, your aspirations and your doubts. Strangers couldn’t judge you.

You sigh. “I am… stuck here. I’ve never been anywhere else but here.”

“Not even in the city?”

You shake your head.

Hendery hums. “Well, it’s not really different. If not, it’s worse.” He chuckles. “Everyone lives as if it’s the end of the world tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” You hugged your knees closer to your chests. “I’ve always wanted to experience a night like that.”

Hendery snorted. “It gets tiring. And it’s not really convenient when you don’t have the money.”

“For what? Can’t you enjoy without it?”

He strayed his eyes towards you. There was a spark of amusement dancing in his orbs. As if he found your question fascinating. “You can’t. What about drugs? Alcohol? Cigarettes? You can’t buy those without money.”

Oh. Of course. Hendery’s talking about parties. He looked like that kind of boy at first glance. Yet upon hearing his snorts and the dissent on his face, you have realized that perhaps both of you were yearning for something you weren’t been born to reach. You, the city. Him, the peace of the countryside.

“I wasn’t talking about those,” you said. Hendery fixed you with a curious look. “I’m talking about the city lights above the rooftops. The blare of the cars. The life outside this town.”

Hendery threw his head back, contorting the tattoo on the side of his neck, and laughed softly. “Of course.” His laughters ceased, like smoke slowly dissipating into the air. “But there is more to that.”

You stood up and smoothed out your skirt. “Perhaps.”

“Don’t you want more?”

With that, you looked down at him to flash him a small smile. “I’ve always wanted more. Perhaps there is more to the world than this little town. Perhaps I deserve to see it one day.”

Hendery didn’t break eye contact when he said the words, “There are millions of possibilities if you’d only dare.”

In which you didn’t have any answer for.

v. He descended to the dead. On the third day, He rose again…

Hendery waited. For hours, days, months, but he’d never seen his parents again.

The roof above him and the floors underneath his feet were a place he had never seen before. Wherever he looked, the unfamiliarity of everything would hit him like a tidal wave. From the couches to the television, to the doorframe and the windowsills, no one could deny that this house had seen better days.

Hendery sleeps in a cot of hard wood that leaves his back aching every morning. He eats in a kitchen with mice crawling in the corners and cockroaches flying in different directions. Nevertheless, there was food and somehow it was all that matters.

What happened to his Mom and Dad? Hendery was left with puzzles of an answer himself. After he survived the pandemic, he was met with yet another obstacle: orphanhood.

His aunt, Lilia, said that his father died. He died because of the pandemic, too. Hendery wept for days on end, refusing to believe what had befell his loving father. But as Lilia showed him the death certificate, Hendery’s world collapsed to shreds. That had been the time when he felt utterly alone, with no one to guide him and no one to tuck him in his sleep but the coldness of the world and the loneliness of the night.

His mother— no one knows what happened to her. They say she was in an asylum. They say what had betided her husband and son shattered her mind. Hendery tried to gather information. He tried to ask his aunt about his mother’s whereabouts. But whenever he does, he’s met with a slap on the cheek.

Aunt Lilia was a kind woman— she really was. But there had been times when she would talk to no one in the windows, or would cry with unknown reasons on the kitchen floors. Sometimes, she would sing lullabies to help Hendery sleep. Sometimes, she would whip him until he was crying and begging for help.

No one saved him.

One day, when Aunt Lilia was fast asleep and snoring on her couch, Hendery tiptoed to the door. It’s time for him to leave this godforsaken place. It’s time that he finds his mother. He was twelve years old.

According to the doctors themselves, you become immune to the pandemic once it has already hit you. Hendery braved the pandemic with a single mask and a little bottle of alcohol. And for months, he would live in the streets.

You sang your favorite song while walking. It was eight p.m., the road was almost empty, save for a few workers going home to your village. Fortunately, it didn’t rain tonight so there were no need for umbrellas and tiptoeing through the mud.

Hendery remained in the Church, to do what, you hadn’t bothered to ask. He offered to take you home, but you politely declined. After a series of convincing Hendery that you were going to be fine on your own, his shoulders finally slumped in approval. Your mother would collapse on the ground if she ever sees you riding Hendery’s motorbike.

You didn’t take him for a gentleman. However, there were still a lot of things you didn’t know about the boy. After your conversation with him on the grasses, perhaps he’s allowed you to slip through his visions, even just for a little bit.

As you neared towards your house, elders and children alike scattering around your street drew you in a halt. What is happening? A bad feeling rested in your stomach, but you sent a silent prayer that it wasn’t what you were thinking about.

Your mother was also one of the villagers out, so you sauntered straight towards her with your forehead drawn in a crease. “What’s happening, Mom?”

Her lips were pulled in a tight frown. “Bandits!” she seethed, as if the word had been the cruelest of all curses. “They took Loira’s money that she hid under the dresser.”

“How? Are bandits that skilled?”

As far as you could tell, Aunt Loira’s home was barred from ceiling to floor. She doesn’t go out of the house without locking all the possible holes that bandits might slip through.

“Evil knows no bounds,” your mother once again spat. “Yes, they are that skilled and heartless nowadays.”

The village chieftain as well as the other tanods circle Aunt Loira’s home with their lamps and flashlights. But you’d doubted that they would acquire evidence. Bandits had been pillaging your village as well as the neighboring ones for years. No one could ell what they look like. However, some elders think that the men from Kristan’s village were the ones responsible for the robbery.

“But Aunt Loira literally bars her whole house whenever she leaves for the market, right?”

Your mother made a strange noise through her nose. “She forgot to lock her back door when she left earlier.” Then she wrapped a hand around your wrist. “Come, the food’s getting colder.”

With one last look at Aunt Loira’s house, you let your mother lead you away from the mayhem.

You have been a victim of the bandits yourselves. Once, when you were ten years old. And it had been of your own fault. Father and Mother went to the market that day, and being the only daughter that you were, you had no one to play with whenever they were away. So you hopped out of bed, with your morning glory still stuck in your eyes and hair like the nest of birds, you hadn’t bothered to lock your house and flew straight to your childhood friends.

When you came back home, Mother was frowning at you. She would’ve had you whipped if not for your father, who kindly stood between you and your mother’s diabolical punishments. The money from the old refrigerator was stolen. It was the money for the renovation of your own room. Because of its looting, you still stare at the blotches of rainwater on your canopy every night until now, praying that it won’t collapse on you.

As you lay on your bed, silent contemplations ravaged your mind: the conversation with Hendery, the bandits, your unattainable dreams— are they though?

You have always dreamed of traveling the world. See the wonders of it for yourself. But how could you do that if you have been stuck here ever since? You have no idea what the city looks like. Mother said you were born in the city, but before the lockdown had taken place over the whole country, Mother went back to this village. Apparently, the isolated places were safer during the pandemic.

The pandemic has been over for five years now. Surely, there was more to life than this quiet town, right? You love this village with all your heart. However, you feel as if there were a lot more waiting for you out there. As Hendery said, there were millions of possibilities if you’d only dare.

Dare. What an audacious word. It made you feel dauntless just saying it.

You sat up and stared at the view outside your windows. What could truly happen if you dares the world? What could happen if you step your foot out of this town and dare?

vi. He ascended into Heaven, sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty…

“He’s not from here,” the other boys whispered.

Hendery continued ransacking the trash cans under the bridge. It had been exactly two weeks since he escaped Aunt Lilia’s hell house. And he wasn’t fairing well. The coins he stole from Aunt Lilia’s dresser were beginning to sound nothing in his pockets despite the fact that water was all his body consumed ever since escaping.

They say you could survive without food, but you wouldn’t survive without water. So he drank and drank until his stomach became bloated. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Hendery would buy at least one bottle of water with the stolen money and would consume it for two days. Sounds impossible for other people, but Hendery made it to two weeks of not fainting on the ground by that.

“He looks like he’s from here, though,” the other boy commented.

Hendery paid them no heed, for he found a bag of chips in the trash. It tasted like ashes in his mouth, but he couldn’t complain. He’d never complain.

Hendery fished for yet another chip when the boys snatched the bag away from him. They sneered. At long last, Hendery looked at them. And they were exactly like a mirror of him. Greasy hair, acrid smell, tattered clothes— and that something in their eyes: despair.

“Where are you from, boy?” One of them asked.

Boy? He didn’t look older than Hendery. However similar their situations might be, he had no time to linger around them. He needed to find his mother. So he turned his back and walked away. Not even a few steps ahead, someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The boy smirked before landing a blow at his nose.

Hendery staggered backwards, aghast and angry at the same time. He touched his nose, and found it bleeding. Fueled by hunger and lost and a shit ton of problems, Hendery let his backpack fall to the ground and charged towards the boy.

They rolled off the ground. Hendery had him by the collar, and all the boy did was to choke. If no one would intrude, Hendery could surely kill him. But when they rolled once more and Hendery got on the boy’s stomach, he raised a fist only for someone to wrap a viselike grip around his wrist.

Hendery shot him a glare, but he answered him with a kind smile. That was when he noticed there were at least five of them there. Six, if Hendery was to count himself.

“There is no need for us to kill each other,” the boy said. “Stand up.”

Hesitant, Hendery wriggled free before standing on his feet. Once again, he turned on his heel to walk away.

“Why are you leaving?” the boy asked. “We have food here. And a shelter for the night.”

That sounded like a dream. Hendery had never heard of that for two weeks. Not even experienced any of that. Still, he didn’t turn.

“I promise we won’t harm you.”

He continued to walk away. If Hendery had come to a realization, it was that he could survive on his own. He’d experienced a lot of shit already being with people.

“We can help you!” the boy shouted.

With that, Hendery gripped the straps of his backpack tightly. He didn’t know if it was out of luck, or the boy really hit something that made his consciousness stir. If Hendery wanted to find his mother, it’d be better to have companions he could rely on.

He turned to face the boys again. “Really?” he shouted back.

They looked at one another before trodding the distance towards Hendery. The taller man stretched out his hand, with a smile he said, “I’m Kun.”

Hendery stared at the hand before taking it. “Hendery.”

“We can help you,” Kun said. “In one condition.”

You stared at your reflection on the mirror. The glass had a lot of brown blotches because of its age. But your reflection could still be seen.

Another day, another walk, another face to greet.

It’s Sunday already. The third Sunday of the month. You once believed that if people would pray day and night in the churches and in their houses, the bad things crawling in the world would somehow lessen. You were mistaken.

Bandits, bandits, bandits. They were everywhere these days. Mother even refused to go to the market in fear of being robbed. That left you with no choice but to go on your own. How? You exactly have no idea.

It was always best to visit the market at dawn, for the vegetables and meats were still fresh. You could still buy something after noon, but it won’t be as worth the money as they were in the gloaming. And the bandits had left yet another fiendish mess at Uncle Gino’s house. Your mother had been a cursing mess for hours since they stole a precious heirloom from Uncle’s treasure chest.

You sighed. Why is your village always prone to bandits? It wasn’t as if your chieftain never does anything for it, if not, he’s hands-on searching for the robbers. With no luck at all. Bandits disappeara like a bubble everytime they come close to capturing them.

At the church, everyone else was busy when you arrived. Save for one person; Hendery. He was leaning on the door frame of the sacristan’s quarter, watching everyone pass by him.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” you asked when you reached him.

“Ah, my dearest Y/N,” he sighed. “How I’ve missed you dearly.”

You deadpanned. “We met yesterday, Hendery.”

“Then? Am I not allowed to miss you?” He raised a brow.

You compressed your lips in a tight line. Three weeks since the boy arrived and in some way you have found a common ground together: talking about your dreams. Well, it’s you who’s always doing the talking. While he listened and snorted whenever he disagrees with you. It had been somewhat challenging, having someone disagree with you.

“Let’s go,” you sighed. “The mass is about to start.”

Thankfully, he was already donned in his white robes. No matter how holy the color might be, it failed to make him one. If not, it had only intensified the danger lurking within him.

Hendery yawned all throughout the mass, resulting in you nudging his ribs with your elbow. You couldn’t still comprehend his goal for joining the church. He seemed disinterested about everything. You have to find out his true intentions or else you will lose your mind thinking.

And it was not right to think about anything but the Lord while the mass is going on.

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven…” The churchgoers starts to sing. They clasped their hands as if in prayer while singing. Father Ben already practiced the right way in singing the litany. No one holds hand any longer.

You clasped your own hand. “Holy be Thy Name— what are you doing?” In bafflement and shock, you hissed louder than what you intended to.

Hendery took your right hand to clasped with his left. He didn’t answer you, though. He kept on looking straight at the altar. “Thy Kingdom Come, Thy will be done…” he started to sing along.

Flustered on where you stand, you roamed your eyes around you. Lucy and Rei were busy singing their hymns, oblivious to the way Hendery was breaking Father Ben’s rule.

You tried to wriggle free, but his grip was viselike. It’s disrupting the mass for you. With a heavy intake of breath, you let it go. “On Earth as it is in Heaven…” you sang along.

When he heard you, Hendery slackened his hold. You looked at him the same time he looked at you. And there he was, smiling like an idiot. “Give us this day, our daily bread…” he sang as he focused on the altar again.

You blinked, heart doing somersaults inside your chest. “And forgive us our trespasses…” you sang.

Everything had come at once. The echoes of the singing churchgoers, as well as Hendery’s.

“As we forgive those who trespass against us…”

The beating of your heart was wild. For what reasons? You have no idea. It was just there, beating stubbornly inside your ribcage.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…”

After the mass, and when all the churchgoers finished asking for Father Ben’s blessings and advice, he gathered all the sacristan inside the church.

You sat between Rei and Lucy, while Hendery sat behind you. He still has that infuriating smile on his face. Truth be told, and no matter how hard you tried, you also smiled a little yourself.

“I’ve heard the concerns of the people,” Father Ben announced. “For years, we have faced the bandits.”

You straightened up. In his own ways, Father Ben had been a huge help for the people. You won’t call him rich, but he’s always ready to lend money to those who fell to the bandits’ wrongdoings. You have seen his treasure chest once, and you believe you had been the only one allowed to see it.

“As much as I would like to financially aid everyone, my coffers couldn’t hold everything,” he added.

Lucy intruded, “It is alright Father. You’ve been helping us since you came here in the village. And for that we are thankful. But you need not bother yourself for our problems.”

Father Ben smiled. “I am the priest of this town. I need to preserve peace just like the chieftain. It’s been a pleasure to help with my own ways.”

You cleared your throat. “How can we help, Father?”

“Ah, yes.” Father Ben placed his hands behind him. “I need you to be vigilant. Not only for your own sakes, but for the well-being of others, too. Help in your own little ways. Be it helping the townspeople pick the strongest barriers there is in the market, they’d appreciate that. I trust you all. And don’t forget to pray for your village and the neighboring ones, too.” Father Ben makes a cross in the air. “May God bless us all.”

“Amen,” you said in unison.

Father Ben returned behind the altar to check up on Kristan, more likely. As for the little boy, he was comfortable, he said. His father also tried to visit him, but found it hard to face his son. Kristan said  it’s fine, and that his father deserved time to think.

You stood up together with the other sacristan with a sigh. Bandits are such headaches. It gets tiring having to deal with them. It feels as if dealing with the wind. Invisible. And there was yet another headache you have to face: going to the market.

If you were lucky, you could reach the market at one p.m.. But vehicles during this time of the day were rare. Not to mention the village was isolated.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hendery asked as he stood in front of you.

You sighed a pensive one. He’s your third headache of the day. “Please, Hendery. I’m thinking.” You started to walk away, but he followed beside you.

“Perhaps I can help.”

You drew in a halt. Mayhaps it was a blessing in disguise— him. Hendery has a motorbike. You’d get there and come back on time if you would ride with him. But courage was a luxury you couldn’t afford, so you shun the thoughts.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

Your tongue ached to say the words. And your body yearned to feel the wind on your face, too. It was not everyday that a chance opens up like this in front of you. Dare.

You straightened your shoulders. “Can you take me to the market?” The market isn’t as far as the city. But going in there is a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity you couldn’t afford to miss. It was a step, no matter how small.

Hendery raised a brow. “What business do you have in the market?”

You played with your lower lip with your teeth. A fleet of a moment, and a moment you had surely missed: the way Hendery looked at your lips when you rolled it between your teeth. “Well,” you said, “I need to buy some food. And mother wouldn’t leave the house in fear of bandits robbing us.”

“Understandable,” he said. “But I have a condition to make.”

“Forget it—”

“Kidding.” Then he laughed. “You are one hell of a heartless woman, do you know that?”

A ghost of a smile painted your lips. “It is not right to say ‘hell’ inside the church. And why do you say that?”

“What about my wage?”

You blinked. “Oh, I— I didn’t bring any extra cash—”

Hendery placed his hand on the top of your head. “I’m just kidding.” Then he pivoted on his heel, his keys dangling between his fingers.

You followed.

“I thought you didn’t have a helmet.” You shot up a brow to your forehead upon seeing one helmet resting on his accelerator.

Hendery shrugged. “It’s for you.”

And there it wasagain, the wild beating of your heart. As if it was an animal begging to be unleashed to the world. “That’s… kind of you.” That had been the only thing you were able to say. “But how did you know to bring one?”

He disentangled the helmet from the accelerator. “Because I am always waiting for you.”

“For me? What do you mean?”

“I’m always waiting for you to ask me to take you to the city.”

Without giving you any time to comprehend his words and form coherent answers, Hendery fixed the helmet to your head. But before he could fully lock it under your chin, you stopped his hands.

“I think I’ll prefer to feel the wind.”

Hendery smiled, but continued to lock the helmet nevertheless. “Not today. I drive relatively fast, and the road to the market’s pretty bumpy. You won’t enjoy it.”

“I appreciate you, bringing this, but—”

He tapped the head of the helmet. “No buts.”

Hendery climbed his motorbike, then nudged his head to invite you to hop in. Just like the last time, you pulled up your skits and climb behind him. He revved the engine and you rode together.

The feel of riding behind him had become a reflex inside your body. A peaceful one, despite the blare of his engine and the harsh slap of the wind on your face.

“Hold on,” he reminded you before he accelerated the engine yet again.

You wrapped your arms around his torso. This was the second time you rode a motorbike, but the feeling compared to last time has drastically changed. There was no fear now. Only fascination and curiosity of what lies behind everything you have ever known.

If you’d only dare.

An hour before the clock strikes two, you have finally reached the buzz of the market.

When the pandemic ended, the livelihood didn’t go back automatically to normal. There were millions of protocols and reminders from the government. Because the pandemic didn’t really disappear like a bubble in the air. It was there, still. But after the years of its ravaging, the human body slowly adapted to its hazards.

It became just like the flu. More dangerous, yes. But less hazardous now.

“Wait for me here,” you said to Hendery.

“I’ll come with you.”

You stopped. “Are you sure? It’s quite chaotic inside. And… city boys are city boys.”

A playful laugh resonated from him. “I’ve been here before, sacristan. I’ll be fine.”

When he said that he’d be fine, it was true. Hendery jumped from vendor to vendor to help you buy all your needs. Be it meat, poultry, vegetables, or fruits. Father’s coming home in two days after weeks of being away, so Mother wants to cook something special for him. And you, too.

“Is this all?” he asked when you finished. Hendery insisted on carrying everything, which you politely declined. But he didn’t stop bugging you about it until you gave up and handed him everything.

“I need to buy onions over there, across the street. Could you hold this for me? I’ll be quick.”

Hendery nodded. You fished for your wallet inside your pocket. Halfway across the street, someone bumped into you.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said. But the man ignored you as he continued to walk away.

Five steps ahead, you noticed something. Your wallet was stolen. Before you could shout, Hendery was running for the boy already. Shocked and confused, you did the first thing that occured to your mind; run for them.

The wallet didn’t have much money, but it was given by your mother on your birthday. And you have been utterly sentimental when it comes to gifts. The boy can take the money, but he needs to give back your wallet.

Hendery ran pretty fast that you almost lost him in the maze of people and stalls alike. He turned left. You pulled up your heavy skirts and follow him. When you finally reached the alleyway he’s run off to, you have found out that it was a dead end.

Hendery was sitting on the boy’s stomach, and he had him by the throat. Few steps away from them, your wallet lays on the ground. You gulped and sauntered up to the two boys.

“What the fuck are you doing, Hendery?”

He knew Hendery? How come?

“Dude, you need to let me g—”

Hendery punched him straight. You gasped. The boy’s eyes rolled before his head collapsed to the ground. And he was unconscious.

Hendery stood up and picked your wallet. He didn’t look at you when he handed it back. “Let’s go home,” he says.

You stared at the boy with your brows narrowing. Is he a bandit? How did he know Hendery? Gripping the wallet tightly, you pivoted on your heels and walked away.

Something wasn’t right.

vii. From thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead...

“I say I beat the shit out of him right now,” Xiaojun seethed upon seeing Hendery enter the room.

Kun, while sitting on the table, raised a hand to stop the other boy from attacking Hendery. He had always been like that; the middle man. Yet Hendery could sense the disappointment as well as the inquisition in the air. This is going to be one hell of a night.

“Sit,” Kun announced as he stretched out his hand to the empty chair on his left side.

Xiaojun, Hendery’s comrade, had his fist clenched while sitting on the window sill. The punch he landed on his face has left a contusion to the bone right below his eyes. Hendery didn’t feel sorry. Not even a little bit.

Kun’s ‘office’ had been stripped off any furniture saved for a table and two chairs. There was only one light hanging from the ceiling. It casted off an orange hue to everything it touches.

If Hendery spends so much as an hour here, he would lose his mind. However, Kun has managed to make this empty place his abode whenever he plans out another robbery or crime. It was comparatively fitting, if he was to be honest.

When Hendery had made himself comfortable on his seat, Kun stood up. “I’ve heard entertaining news today.” He smiled. It would come off as a kind one if you were looking in the surface, but Hendery knew the depths of the edges of that smile.

Nevertheless, Hendery hasn’t been the one to be scared of anything. “Is it about me…” Hendery strays his eyes towards Xiaojun. “Punching someone?” The smile he casted after had completely set his comrade’s blood on fire.

Xiaojun jumped, attempting to attack Hendery once more. Kun gripped his arm in a firm hold. Xiaojun slouched back on the other chair, panting heavily.

“You’re fucking dead to me, Wong,” he spat.

Hendery leaned closer. “Bring it on.”

“Shut the fuck up, you both,” Kun sighed while massaging his temples. “Or just go ahead and get your guns, shoot each other in the head and be done with it.”

Tempting was the offer, but Hendery took it as a warning. However, it had been pretty effective. Hendery leaned back to his chair, hands dangling on his sides. “What’s the matter?”

Kun chuckleed. “You.” He licked his lips while pointing his finger at Hendery. “You’re really something else, aren’t you?”

“Well—” Hendery stumbleed and fell from the chair. That, he hadn’t seen coming. Kun had always been strong when it comes to boxing someone’s ears. Before Hendery could stand up, he spat blood on the cold floor.

Hendery wipeed his mouth with the back of his hand. It was his turn to chuckle. “I really am.”

Kun wrapped his hand around Hendery’s collar, then he slammed his back against the wall. Sight obscured because of of the hair falling down his eyelids, Hendery felt the blood flowing from the side of his mouth to his chin.

“Why did you do it?” Kun asked.

“What did I—” Hendery fell to the ground as his face met Kun’s fist. His vision blurs, causing him to blink languidly. Perhaps he heard Xiaojun’s laughters, or his sniggers, he wasn’t sure.

Hendery felt like a sack of cotton as Kun hurled him up with his back collar. His back was against the wall again. Now, he feels two warm liquid flowing from the sides of his mouth.

“Why did you do it?”

His mouth twisted in a leer. “None of your business.”

Hendery’s stomach caved in as Kun landed a punch to his guts. Air left his lungs for a moment, and he found it extremely hard to breathe. Hendery had always hated being punched in the stomach.

As he tried to catch his breath, he watched as Kun’s feet started to pace the space in front of him. Hendery continues to blink. Then Kun crouched.

“Who is she?”

She. Hendery stared at Kun. The years of them together flashed in his eyes like a projector in a wide white screen: the day he met his gang of bandits, his first time holding a gun, robbing a store, and shooting someone plays right in his eyes like a movie on repeat.

“None of you fuckers are going anywhere near her,” he stated in a voice so cold even the demon stared back at him in horror.

Kun was silent for a moment. Eyes hard staring at Hendery. Then he asked, “What the fuck is happening to you?”

Hendery realized that he had no answer to the question. But the thought of you, falling in danger feels like rotten food in his stomach. It made him want to retch.

Nobody had seen it coming, that was for sure. This feeling inside him— this wriggling feeling whenever he was with you. Whenever you smile at him. Whenever you tell him your dreams.

Hendery stood up and looked straight at Kun and then at Xiaojun. “Don’t fucking dare,” he warned before he pivoted on his heel.

Two steps away, Kun stated, “I’ll let you swim in your foolishness but don’t fuck this up, Hen. Remember why I sent you to the church.”

Hendery waved  his hand. “I remember.”

He’d gone straight to his own room and tended for his own wound. Hendery sat on his bed, meditating over his actions earlier.

For years he had been one of Kun’s best bandit. Ever since he met him under the bridge. Xiaojun landed his fist straight to his nose that day, too. And that had been all Hendery had known. To fight, to survive. Even if it means licking the edge of the knife.

The time Kun handed him a gun, Hendery knew his hands trembled. For that he missed his first aim. But as the days went by that all he’d ever held was a bullet, a magazine, and a gun, Hendery became as sharp as a pointed knife when it came to mowing down.

He stared at his calloused hand. The rough palms stares back at him, as if in insult. He’s lost count of the stores he’s robbed. Of the houses he’d stolen from. Of the individuals he pointed the barrel of the gun at. Is this what he has been born to do?

All he ever wanted was to meet his mother again. To hold that hateful woman in his arms. To tell her that her son survived and there has been an aching hole inside him ever since she disappeared without a trace.

Years of searching for nothing, Hendery thought he’s already turned every stone in this country upside down searching for his lost mother. And it all went in vain.

Hendery doesn’t know who to blame: the pandemic, his mother, or his own self?

You chewed on your bottom lip while walking the long road towards your home. The scene from the market, and the robbery that had taken place refused to leave your mind. You sigh, since those weren’t the only things trying to penetrate your brain. Hendery refused to leave, too.

Perhaps you should be thankful that he somewhat saved your money earlier. Bandits are heartless. The boy could’ve been carrying a pocket knife and Hendery would’ve been in grave danger. Yet he braved the possible risks and ran for the boy nonetheless. Worries aside, you cannot help but feel perturbed of the way the bandit called Hendery’s name.

Are they related? If yes, how?

Before entering your house, you straightened your back. Mother senses even a slip of your composure, and she’d never let you go unless you tell her what’s wrong.

You raised your fist to knock, then a familiar face greeted you when the door swung open suddenly. The bags you have been holding fell as you squealed and jumped to hug your father. “Father!” you exclaim.

He laughed as he wraps his arms around you. “My baby girl,” he chuckled.

“Dad!” you retorted, but laughed nonetheless. There is time for that endearment. “When did you arrive?” you asked as both of you pulled away.

“Earlier,” he saied as he muffled your hair. “I didn’t tell your mom, either.” As he said that, Mother occured from the kitchen with a spatula in hand.

“Time for dinner,” she announced with a smile.

Ah, that rare smile from her lips. Father was the only living thing who could pull up the edges of her mouth like that. It was refreshing to behold.

Father picked up the bags from the ground. “You carried all these by yourself?” he asked.

You automatically flustered. The image of Hendery carrying all you have bought earlier flashing back in your head without permission. “Y… yeah.”

It wasn’t as if they are illiberal when it comes to boys. But it was a topic you haven’t discussed with any of them yet.

“Hm, we really ought to buy a motorcycle, don’t you think?”

You turned to face him. “It would be convenie—”

“Who would drive? Me?” Mother interrupted. “Our daughter?”

Father placed the bags onto the kitchen counter. “Yes. Y/N is a fast-learner. She could defini—”

“I’m sorry but it is a no.” Mother smiled again, but there was an edge to it. “It is inappropriate for a lady to drive—”

“Who says?” you groaned. “It’s 2040, Mother.”

Mother crossed her arms over her chests. “And where would you go once you learn how to drive?”

You pursed your lips. Saying the word would only extend the argument. But it needs to be heard. “Perhaps then I could go to the city—”

“What?!” she exclaimed.

“... and study,” you finished.

Father cleared his throat. “That’s a good idea, actually.” He turned his head towards Mother. “Don’t you think?”

Mother made out an incredulous noise from her nose. “No, I don’t think so. The city is still contaminated with the virus and hedonism. There is no way I’m letting you—”

“Develop on my own?” you asked.

It had always been an argument: your dreams. And Mother always says no to every step you’d attempt to achieve them. You loved her dearly. But sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed of her decisions when it comes to your life. You were an adult— a capable adult. And yet you felt as if someone had clipped your wings before you could fly. It hurts to know that that someone was your own mother.

“Y/N!” she hissed, her eyebrows knitted together.

Father held up his hands. “There is no need for us to raise our voices. We can discuss this in peace,” he said.

But Mother wouldn’t back down. “There would be no discussion. I won’t allow it.” Then she turned on her back to finish preparing the food.

You looked down at the floor, eyes suddenly breaming with tears. This conversation had never failed to put you to misery.

“Cheer up,” Father whispered. “We’ll find a way.”

No. You will.

The next day, you couldn’t help but frown upon your reflection in the mirror. Same robes, same skirts, same hairstyle. There was nothing new.

You loved being a sacristan. You have devoted yourself in serving God and His Son, Jesus Christ. You have never missed a mass. It was a part of your life that won’t ever disappear. But duty and dream aren’t the same thing.

You have your duty to God, that you diligently and wholeheartedly accomplished for the last few years. But there was your dream, hanging like a blank canvas on the wall of your bedroom.

The village was your serenity. But the city holds everything that you have ever wanted.

Dare.

You harshly brushed your hair and fix your robe. The bones under your skin are unstoppable. You only have to dare. So with a deep intake of breath, you departed your bedroom, kissed both your parents’ cheek, and ran towards the Church. Where everything was going to happen.

Seeing Hendery casually sipping on his cigarette while leaning on the tree has put your rushing feet in a halt.

This boy. Always so alluring, always so mysterious, always so stubborn.

Hendery remained staring at the ground when you sauntered up to him. It would feel as if you were back on the day you first met him. When he exuded such obscurity that you found him irritatingly blurry yet interesting.

What happened yesterday still lingers in the back of your mind. Perhaps you should talk to him about it to quench  your interest. “Hey,” you greeted.

When he looked up, you covered your mouth with your hands in utter stupefaction. “What happened to you?!” you blurted out.

There were purple patches on the bone underneath his right eye and another on the side of his lips. Did the bandit get back to him yesterday? The thought made your stomach lurched.

“You look devastated,” Hendery commented.

You blinked. It was him who looked like an absolute wreck right now. How could he tell you that? “No. You are.”

“You are.” Hendery toucheed your chin to lift up your face. You let him. “See? It’s missing,” he said while staring at you.

His stare made you nervous. But you couldn’t look away. “What is?”

Hendery let his hand fall before he answers, “The fire in your eyes.”

The fire in your eyes. For the second time, you blink at him. You were a lover of poetry. Hearing this boy talk as if he had the verses of the universe in his tongue perhaps set your heart in a panic.

Sad eyes, bad guys, and a mouthful of verselet. You once thought someone like him won’t sweep you on your feet. Knowing that you were mistaken has left a bittersweet taste in your tongue. It was, indeed, beautiful to feel this way. This feeling you have for Hendery was a flower beginning to turn into a fruit. So fragile, yet so heavenly.

Would it be ready for the plucking?

You gulped. “Did the bandit get back to you yesterday?”

“This is nothing,” he said. “I found myself in a brawl yesternight. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You raised a brow. “I am not worried.”

That was his cue to laugh before puffing his cigarette again. “One hell of a heartless woman.”

“I am not heartless.”

Hendery looked affronted. “Really? Prove it, then.”

“Prove it?” You let out an incredulous sound. Then you crossed your arms over your chests. “How?”

“Admire me back.” He tossed his cigarette bud away. “Simple as that.”

Admire me back. You gaped at him, unable to form lucid words. What was that? Did he really ask you to admire him… back? “Is that…” you paused, “Is that a confession?”

Hendery placed the tip of his pointer finger against your forehead. Then he pushed lightly. However, he didn’t answer, he only walked past you. “You’re pretty unique,” he added. “I like your fire.”

“Wait!”

You ran for him. You have no idea what it was, but talking to Hendery has stirred the emotion you once felt earlier before leaving the house. The extreme drive to do something you haven’t done before and prove your mother that you are worthy of being left alone with your decisions.

Hendery turned to you. “What? Have you reciprocated my feelings alr—”

“Take me to the city,” you panted.

His smile grew wider. And the stars in his eyes shone, rivaling the blare of the sunlight above. “That’s better.”

viii. And His Kingdom would have no end…

A month ago, you would never have imagined yourself going out of the village. But here you wee, riding with a boy you only met four weeks ago, in his black and shiny motorcycle that was like a much safer version of a Harley. However, it didn’t lessen the agitation in your heart.

After years since you were born, this would be your first time to see the world beyond your village. You didn’t expect it to be beautiful. Since a global pandemic has swept through the continents twenty years ago. But you could say it was something you didn’t expect to behold either.

Copse of trees became a blur of brown and green as Hendery picks up the pace. There was nothing to see but the unending stretch of tall grasses and trees and the isolated road ahead. There weren’t even streetlights to guide you back later.

The wind slapped your face, with it the grimy feeling of running at 60 kilometers per/hour, and sniffing Hendery’s virile scent.

Hendery sure drives like the road was his and he’s alone in the world.

For this adventure, you refused to wear any helmet at all. It took minutes of disagreement, but Hendery had come in peace with it. If this was the first time you were riding towards the city— a place as strange to you as anything in the world— you wanted to caress it with your whole body. After all, this was an event more special than your own birthday.

As Hendery revved the engine faster, your grip on his torso tightened. Nonetheless, you bite your tongue to stop the squeal that was threatening to come out of your mouth. You will brave this ride. And there was nothing that would stop you from relishing this feeling.

All your trust and all your hopes of a safe travel were in Hendery’s hands today. And if you were to be honest, a sliver of doubt still flows in your veins. It has to be normal for a village girl to feel this way. Hendery could be infuriating at times, and he sure has this mysterious secret in his eyes, but he’s never done you anything hideous. Or perhaps you were only a naive girl, too blinded by ambitions and the overflowing courage in your heart, that you walked right into the devil’s trap.

You sent a silent prayer to God to guide you safely despite breaking the rules of your parents.

Slowly, the copse of trees became an expanse of water. Then you were traveling on a bridge, with a river below you. Busses, cars, and motorcycles alike run along the bridge, adding much to your adrenaline. You couldn’t remember the last time you have seen a bus. Perhaps it was when the students from the city took a trip to your village.

You turned your head to see the water. Few birds were flying as well as diving into the water to catch some fish. The wind coming from it was briny and sticky. But you loved it nonetheless.

Then the tall buildings loomed ahead, at the edge of the bridge. You cannot help but gape at it. How isolated have you become to marvel at tall buildings? Embarrassed as you were, you didn’t let it douse out your excitement.

Hendery slowed down as you meet the highway. On the pavements there walked the passersby. Some were hurrying, some were jogging with their dogs. Inside the coffee shops were lovers laughing while sipping on their drinks.

Despite the pandemic, the city felt alive. It thrummed with an energy you haven’t experienced before. It made you feel dizzy with excitement.

“It’s two p.m.,” Hendery stated before parking his motorcycle in a dead alley.

You hopped off. “Won’t you get in trouble parking here?” you asked, roaming your eyes around the two buildings covering the alleyway. In the village, there would be no problem parking your car wherever. But as far as you were concerned, city policies were different.

Hendery snickered. “Nobody would dare.”

By that, you raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Nevermind.” Then he faced you with a smile. “Where do you wanna go?”

You deadpanned. “I’m not from here. You’re supposed to show me around.”

He feigned laughters. “Oh yes, I almost forgot. But—” Hendery raised his pointer finger as if in warning. “May I warn you that I’m not a ferris wheel type of guy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m adrenaline embodiment.” Then he grabbed your shoulder softly and guided you towards the buzz of people.

As you walked with Hendery on the side streets, you looked up to the sky. It was gray but bright nonetheless. The type of weather wherein you wouldn’t know if it would rain or the clouds were only keeping the sun away.

Different honk of cars resonated everywhere, with the giggles of students as they walk home. There were teenagers sitting on the narrow alleyway, their clothes black and their pants ripped. You regarded them with narrowed brows. Then the two teenagers kissed.

“Oh,” you gasped as you cover your eyes. It felt private, albeit the fact that they were kissing in a public place.

Hendery chuckled. “That’s like, level 0.1 of the things that happens there.”

Before you could ask him what did he mean for the nth time that day, Hendery held your hand and tugged you. “See that sign up there?”

He stood extremely close to yours. Strands of his hair flew towards the sides of your face. You gulped before following his pointer finger with your eyes. He was pointing at the sign across the street. It was surrounded by different types of people, but students dominated the whole entrance. Above their heads was a huge sign board that says ‘Wonderland’.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head. “What is it about?”

“It’s a circus,” Hendery said as he turned to look at your face, “Last to arrive pays for the tickets. Deal?”

“Wha— wait! That’s not fair!” you shouted when he bolts away.

Hendery took a look at you while laughing. His hair obscuring his eyes. “Run!”

You exhaled sharply before gathering your skirts and running towards him. As your shoulders slammed to different bodies, you shout apologies on your wake. If this was a normal day, you would have to stopped and say your apologies with a bow. But this wasn’t a normal day. And Hendery didn’t even bother to stop even if he had to push students out of his way.

However, he drew in a halt as a little girl suddenly appears from a boutique. Hendery was still ahead of you by five steps, but because of the circumstances, you tapped his shoulder and run past him.

At last, it was time for you to cross the streets. The streetlight says red. You muttered, “Green, green, gree—”

“Didn’t take you for a… runner,” Hendery breathed with his hands on the sides of his waists as he stood beside you.

You ignored him. Then the lights went green. You stormed away from him, dodging the elders crossing the street. Hendery laughed behind you. And he was extremely close.

With one last force of a leg, you jumped the one meter distance from the pavement to the entrance line of the circus. “I won!” you shouted in triumph.

Hendery shook his head, disbelief visible in his face. “This is unbelievable,” he muttered.

“A ticket for two,” you taunted, displaying two fingers in front of him. “The deal is the deal.”

Hendery sighed and fished for his pocket. Perspiration trickled down your back as you follow Hendery towards the ticket booth. After he received the tickets, he handed you his kerchief. “For your sweat.”

You immediately raised your hands. “Oh, no! It’s okay!”

Hendery tilted his head to the side. “You are sweltering like a waterfall. Here, let me,” he said before pulling you and patting the kerchief to your forehead.

You looked away blinking, unable to form words as you felt the fabric pressing softly on your skin. As if you were a thin, breakable glass he feared that might break if he wasn’t careful. “Thanks,” you whispered when Hendery finally folded back the kerchief to his back pockets.

Both of you turned and faced the entrance of the circus.

The door opened, revealing two little person wearing brightly colored jumpers. Their faces were made up to copy the image of a clown. Both of their heads look up, then they scrunched their noses, clearly irritated of a customer.

“Come in,” they blabbered in unison.

You looked at Hendery. He had that same smile on his face when he walked through the turnstile.

The hallway that displayed itself in front of you were made of corrugated roof ceiling and walls. You felt as if you were in a box.

Different posters of performers adorned the corrugated roof walls. There is the two little person, on their jumpsuits, balancing themselves on a large ball. At your right side, there is the image of a mermaid. Of course, circus such as this one would have a fake mermaid. Then there is an image of a man playing with fire.

You cannot help but stare in awe. You have a knowledge of circuses since you have read books and watched movies to have a distinct image of it in your mind. However, you haven’t really experienced one.

Hendery walked beside you, not bothering to see the posters plastered on the wall. That gave you a hint that maybe he has been in Wonderland already. He was born here in the city after all.

“How many times have you been here?” you decided to ask, voice echoing through the hallway.

“Too many times to count.”

The two little person opened another door. You gaped in astonishment as you take in the picture of the whole circus. Lambent lights hung in different trees, giving the whole area a soft glow.

There wre families resting under the trees and students hopping to different food carts to another. It was a whole new world in the middle of the city. And it was so lively that you feel the energy thrumming in your veins.

Hendery stared. Not at the circus, but at you. Pure amazement adorned your face. And perhaps your eyes twinkled brighter than the lights, too. Hendery couldn’t help but smile. It was somewhat fulfilling taking in your expression. He took you for a woman difficult to impress. Yet he was mistaken. There was that glow in you that he hasn’t seen before in anyone else’s eyes.

And for the first time in twenty years, Hendery has seen the rainbow he was waiting for. It wasn’t in the end of the pandemic. It’s in you.

When you craned your neck to look at him, Hendery blinked and looked away, his heart thudding madly inside his chest.

He couldn’t believe it. This feeling. For someone as sinful as him, Hendery had never expected to feel this type of… fondness.

“I thought you weren’t a ‘ferris wheel’ guy?” You lifted a brow while quoting the air.

The ferris wheel was located at the very corner of the circus’ vicinity. As if on cue, Hendery’s childhood memories weaved their way back to his mind. The laughters of his father and his own giggles whenever they would ride the said ferris wheel.

After seconds of being taciturn, Hendery answered, “I’m not.”

“Really?” you teased. “You needn’t deny it!”

Hendery placed a hand above your head and ruffled your hair. “Come, I’ll show you around.” Then he stretched his hand to you.

Clearly flustered, you stared at his outstretched hand for a minute. You wrapped your hand with his. Taking his hand felt as if a manifold of experiences in itself, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

Both of you entered the tent where the mermaid perfoms. Of course, she was fake. But the craftmanship of her tail almost made you doubt your own eyes. It was simply marvelous.

Next that you visited was the fire-breathing man. The thing was, he was extremely talented and… cute. However, when you mentioned it to Hendery, his amazement deterred and he pulled you out of the tent.

Now you stood in front of a food cart, trying to pick between corndog or fries. You chose fries with lemon iced-tea. Hendery preferred the former.

“We need to go home,” you said while looking up at the sky. There wasn’t any brightness in the heavens any more, only darkness. The stars were hidden in the clouds, which give an ominous sign that it might rain.

And you couldn’t afford to rain. Your mother would go nuts. But then you thought how you have already defied her. Might as well enjoy the night, right? You heaved a sigh. No. You have to go home.

“Yes,” Hendery sighed. He was looking at the heavens, too.

Contemplative of the adventure you have experienced today, you looked at Hendery. Four weeks ago, you have resented his presence in the church because of your own preconceptions. But if this boy beside you didn’t arrive, you wouldn’t have the courage to defy your mother and finally go to the city.

In spite of everything, the saying proves true— that someone could go rebellious if ensnared for a long time. Yes, it was not pleasant to flout parents, but this freedom… you almost felt like a bird with its wings spread wider.

Hendery shifted, then he turned to face you. “Just one last destination.” He spoke the word with a certain anticipation. How could you deny him the chance?

Then you departed the circus.

“Is this safe?” you asked Hendery while you climbed the stairs of an unknown building near the alleyway where he parked his motorcycle.

“Yeah,” Hendery hummed. “This seems empty but trust me, this could be a party place.”

When he said that, you noticed the littered cigarettes in the corners. There were candy wrappers… and some rubber that you had no name for.

“This place is creepy,” you announce when you reach the last set of stairs.

Hendery’s laugh echoed through the empty place. “It’s not,” he said before pushing open a door that leads somewhere.

“A rooftop,” you stated as a-matter-of-factly. Your boots made a clocking noise against the pavement as you walk towards the railings. You stared in awe as different lights from the stores below twinkled like fireflies.

The darkness intensified the colors of everything. The city wasn’t perfect, but was beautiful at this time of the day. With the wind softly nuzzling your face, you breathed a sigh of relief at everything.

“This is beautiful,” you said in utter adoration.

Hendery leaned and grabbed the railings. His floppy hair dancing with the wind, once again falling down his eyelids. “It is,” he breathed.

At the horizon, some far away land stared at you, probably wondering of your unfamiliar face, too. There were mountains and there were also lights flickering from it. The sky was a darker shade of magenta turning black. It’s a pity that there were no stars to grace the heavens.

“Thank you, Hendery,” you whispered.

Hendery looked at you, a smile adorning his lips. “For you.”

Your shoulders brushed against each other, sending your heart into a marathon again. Then you sighed a heartful one. “I want to live here.”

“Really? This was only a façade, though. Bad things crawls out in this city.”

Bad things. There were bad things all around the world, though. “In the village, too,” you muttered, “Bandits. Everywhere.”

“Yeah. Bandits,” he repeated with the same contemptuous voice.

“What do you like most about this city?” you decided to ask. He’s from here. And he won’t stay if he doesn’t find anything beautiful here, right?

Hendery’s eyes were looking at the horizon while he answered, “My…” Then you notice the curvature of his throat as he gulped. “The memories of my family.”

Something inside you insisted to ask him further. So you opened your mouth to speak. “Where are they?”

Hendery displayed a painful smile before a chuckle resonated through him. “My dad died because of the pandemic, and my mom… she’s missing.”

You tasted something bitter in your mouth by the revelation. You shouldn’t have asked. Then you placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” The boy tried to smile when he looked at you. But an old pain still sparked in his eyes.

People tend to say it’s okay even when it’s not. You supposed it’s one of the ways for them to cope. Instead of forcing Hendery, you tried to smile for him, too.

“And your mother.” You cleared your throat. “Just ask me if you need any help.”

“Thank yo—” Hendery’s words were interrupted by the large pitter patters of the rain.

You gasped and shielded your head. Hendery does the same. Then the both of you run towards the building. The ravaging of the rainfall could be heard against the ceilings. It was the sound that pierces the ears. And you were afraid that it’s not going to stop any sooner.

“We have to go home,” you said while biting your nail.

“We can’t,” Hendery pronounced with a shrug.

You sighed deeply, forcing your knees to stand still. “My mother would kill me.”

Even though there was absolute dread to the words, you couldn’t feel any regret. You would’ve done it all over again if given the chance.

“You can call her,” Hendery suggested. “There’s a payphone down the next block.”

She would go absolutely unhinged once she knew about your whereabouts. But you have to at least tell her. Or lie about it. There was no other choice.

You mentally memorized your mother’s cellphone number. She has one, to contact father whenever he’s away. But she barely uses it.

“Let’s go,” you said.

While descending the stairs of the abandoned building, you thought about ways on how to dodge your mother’s possible questions. Lying has left a burning sensation in your chests. But it was the only way. And if it would somehow save you from the doom of being whip to shreds, you’d gladly do it.

Hendery offers you his leather jacket to use as an umbrella. You would have refused, but the rain was falling heavily. You cover your head before running.

When you reached the payphone, Hendery was drenched from head to toe. Due to some miracle that you couldn’t describe yourself, your corsage remained dry.

You delved for a coin inside your pockets and slid it with shaky fingers. Trying to squeeze himself inside the payphone, Hendery stoof mere inches away from you. Your chests too close to each other. Flustered, you focused on the phone still ringing against your ear instead of your bodies’ proximity.

You heard the click of the phone from the other line then the sound of your mother’s voice. “Hello?” she answered.

Running a damp hand through your hair, you gulped and said, “Mom, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N?” You could see her eyebrow raising in your mind. And that made you even more agitated. Mother wasn’t easily convinced. You would need to slid through a needle’s hole if you ever wish to successfully lie to her.

“Yes, Mom. I’m here— at—” You bit your thumbnail as you realize that you cannot truly deceive her.

“Where are you?” she asked, “Why is it so loud in there?”

Shoot. The harsh sound of the rain was, of course, loud. And it probably wasn’t raining that hard to the village or not at all. You needed to think.

“Mom— I— I have an errand to run for Father Ben,” you lied. “And… well… I am in the market. And—” You take a deep breath. “I don’t think I would be able to come home tonight—”

“What?” she said with a voice louder than the rain. “What errand? And why aren’t you coming home?”

“Mother, it’s strictly confidential!” You added just enough panic to your voice to make your deceit more convincing. “And Father Ben told me not to tell anyone—”

“Well, I am your mother so I deserve—”

“Hello? Mother? Mom? I can’t hear you!”

“Y/N—”

“Alright, Mother. I’ll take care! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You dropped the phone immediately, not letting your mother say a word any more. Drawing ragged breaths, you let your back rest on the cold glass encasing the payphone. Then a laughter seized your attention. It was Hendery.

Baffled, you raised a brow. “What’s funny?” you asked, but you had a feeling that you know the answer to your own question. He found it amusing, your panicked conversation with your mother.

Hendery tried to shrug despite his laughter. “I just find it amusing,” he says as his glee receded. You glared at him, but the boy only pointed his finger right in front of your nose. “Now, quit being so strung up.”

“I am not,” your affronted reply. But he was right, your stomach was still tied in knots after the conversation. It was as if your mother would appear in front of you out of nowhere.

You looked at your surroundings. The buildings still towers over you. The road was drenched with rainwater and it didn’t seem to stop any time soon.

“Where do we sleep?” you asked Hendery, embarassed of the realization that you have no idea about the city and where you were supposed to sleep now that you were stuck in an unfamiliar place.

“‘We’?” he teased, “That sounds nice—”

“Hendery!” You hit his arm lightly, eliciting yet another fits of laughter from him.

“I know some place,” he said, “Don’t worry.”

You shrugged. “Well, aside from the fact that I wasn’t from here... and it’s my first time venturing to the city— yeah,” you sighed, “I really shouldn’t worry.”

He seemed not to sense the sarcasm lying within your words for he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got me. I won’t let anyone harm you, alright?”

Ah, the vulnerability in a rather cold façade. It’s marvelous to behold. You couldn’t help but smile. Romance books were true, after all. Once an aloof boy shows some affection, it really feels like lying in a field of cotton.

“You have to promise,” you said. Hendery opened his mouth to speak his oath, but you offered him your pinky finger instead. “Lock it.”

Hendery stared at your hand for a good minute before exhaling a ruminative sigh. Then he placed his pinky finger against yours. The both of you entwined your finger in a lock.

“Ah,” he sighsd at the sight of your coiled fingers, “You really are something else.”

If he was talking about the pinkies, you weren’t so sure how did he consider it something else. It was probably childish, yes, but on other spectrum of things, children rarely lies. That somehow strengthened his promise; the childishness yet purity of it all.

“Yes,” you said, a bit proud of the compliment, “I really am.”

You were in an unknown place, hugging the torso of a boy as you rode with him on his motorcycle. The lights of the cars the only lambency there is in an isolated road.

It should bother you— this unfamiliarity clinging in your bones. But all you could feel was the burning sensation of thrill as it flows in your veins; this strange freedom.

The night was a cacophony of rainwater splashing to everything it touches. With your body pressed against Hendery’s back, both of you braved the unforgiving rain. It was surely the night that would go down to your own history.

“Where are we going?” you asked, giving way too little acknowledgement to your soaked clothes and clattering teeth.

A new empty alleyway greeted you as Hendery turned left with his engine the only noise in the dead of the night. White street lights flicker as he slows down, then you come to a halt in front of an empty gasoline station.

Irradiant glow of pink and orange LED lights adorned the signage plastered above the store. At the sides of the vicinity, rows of motel rooms could be seen. Hendery killed the engine, then both of you hop off his motorcycle.

“Wait! I... I don’t have the money—” you tried to argue, but the boy only flashes you his most beautiful smile.

Still smiling, Hendery held your hand and you both ran to the columns of motel rooms. He roamed his eyes everywhere. When he saw no one, Hendery tugged you softly towards the stairs up to the second floor.

Now, there was no light adorning the second floor of the motel. But the glow of the moonlight casted its illumination towards the place, making a slanted shadow on the walls.

“How do we—”

Hendery turned to you and quickly placed a finger to your lips. “Shh,” he shushed.

There was something about the glint in his eyes that made you agitated and even excited. If both were possible to feel at the same time. Mischief oozes its way out of his body as Hendery pulls a piece of a metallic wire from his pockets. He, then, curled the wire with his fingers. Once done, Hendery inserted the wire to the doorknob.

“Hend—”

For the third time, he cut you off. “Trust me.”

In his eyes, something stirred. You caught a glint of it because of the moon. Hendery knows what he was doing, and it looks as if he’s done this a million times already.

You pressed your mouth in a thin line. Rubbing your hands against the skin of your arms, you look around while Hendery works his wonders to the door.

505, that was the number plastered above the doorframe. The room number.

Within a few minutes, there was a click. Then the door opened in front of you to reveal a typical motel room.

There was a bed near the blinds, then a bedside table. A 1960’s model of RCA television sat at the edge of the mattress, with a single ottoman beside it. The room had also been illuminated by a single deep yellow bulb.

It was 2040. Whatever remnants of 2020 remains, it doesn’t look like this. Motel rooms were a thing eighty years ago. However, you couldn’t complain. You have been wanting to sleep in a room such as this one. People can call you hopeless romantic, but that was the truth. There was a certain vintage love surrounding motel rooms which you yearned to experience yourself.

You looked at Hendery, who was currently standing beside you with a rascal grin on his lips. He was definitely proud of what he did. Notwithstanding of the circumstances, and of the fact that you have just sneaked into a private property, you couldn’t help but grin yourself.

This was way out of the rules of being a sacristan. And you would get a whole mass worth of scolding if Father Ben knew about your adventures today. Despite all of that, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of happiness and pride in doing what you did today.

“I assume this isn’t paid?” You raised a brow.

Hendery shook his head with a small chuckle. “Obviously.”

“Aren’t we gonna get in trouble doing all... this?” you asked him, voice laced with skepticism. Bold as you were, the thought of going behind bars in an unknown place still gives your heart a little bit of a jolt.

“We’re already in trouble,” Hendery said  nonchalantly, “Might as well enjoy it.” He placed his hand on your shoulders as he searched for your eyes. “Besides, this doesn’t happen all the time.”

You stared at the depths of his orbs. There seemed to be a permanent mark of roguishness dancing in his eyes that you only notice now.

What devilment in an angelic face. Bemusing as it was, you loved it. This Hendery.

“To me,” you said, “But you’re from here. And from

the looks of it, you’ve done this a million times before.”

Hendery’s shoulder shook from his laughter. He laughed so much for someone with sad eyes. “Yes. I won’t deny it. But this isn’t for me, though. This adventure is for you.”

It’s funny how a stranger could give you all you have ever wanted in a single day. By that alone, you knew that you would forever be grateful of this boy in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “So much, Hendery.”

You didn’t know what it was, but Hendery lost his composure as his mouth gaped open a little bit. The sincerity of your voice moved him and made his knees weak.

This has been the first time he heard the words from someone. All he had known were the frightened prayers every time he would point a gun to someone, the muffled cries, the tear stained cheeks. It’s his first time to see sincerity to someone else’s eyes that was meant for him.

Perhaps you have seen it, too— the perplexity in his expression, the slight glitch of his demeanor. And it made your heart happy to see that you have affected him as much as he has affected you.

Hendery leaned closer, his face utterly close that you could make up your reflection in his eyes by the dim light of the light bulb.

He gulped, you did too.

It would deem as if no one amongst you had the experience of this... intimacy. No one had come close to your defenses but him. It rattled your bones underneath. And perhaps the world stilled when your lips met his.

It’s exactly like those in a romantic movie. It wasn’f rash, it wasn’t blistery. It’s soft... it’s heavenly. The kiss would compare to cotton touching another cotton. Both of your eyes were still open as you tried to savor the kiss. You were still thunderstruck beyond comprehension, but your lips were glued to his and there seemed no turning back. Not that you’d like too, anyways.

Hendery cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes. In the blink of a moment, the kiss went wild. Now you would compare it to a sea under a storm. Raging and unforgivable.

You hadn’t noticed how your back had come into contact with the bed. But the surprisingly soft mattress hugged your back as Hendery lays you down slowly.

Your heart had its own business thudding harmoniously wild inside your chest with the kiss.

Hendery pulled away. You felt your plump lips and his had been red, too. With a second of eye contact, Hendery leaned and kissed you again. With the same fervor, with the same hunger.

Your hand shot up to his hair. The sound of someone kissing and your attempts to catch your breaths against the kiss, the only thing that could be heard inside 505.

His hands started to roam your body. His touches were like that of devotees; careful, with little prayers in every friction.

Lips a mere inch from each other, Hendery whispered with a raspy tone. “May I?”

You were here, and you were ready to do whatever this kissing ends up to. So you nodded.

He smiled while the moonlight caressed half of his face.

Then he brought his fingers to the laces of your corsages. With deft motion of a hand, Hendery pulled, the laces had come free, opening your collar bones and upper chests for him to see. The reveal of the skin made your breath hitch.

Hendery brought his fingers to the open skin, then he trailed— slowly, oh so slowly— downwards. As if your skin was Braille.

He kissed you. He whispered his confession in your ears. He touched you like he longed for you. He cried your name in a euphoric bliss.

That night, you weren’t a sacristan. You were a saint. Worshipped by a boy with the devil in his eyes.

But nobody— not even the moonlight slipping through the windows — told you about the doom that awaits your blooming love.

It was past four in the morning when you wake up. The room was dark, with the heavy light from the skies illuminating the floors through the blinds.

Hendery lied on the bed beside you. The light casted parallel lines on his bare chests and stomach. While you laid on your side, your hands between your thighs and a smile on your lips.

Hendery leaned to trace your shoulder up to your cheek, sending goosebumps down your back. Then he whispered the words, “You’re so beautiful.”

You would’ve hit him with a jest, but your breath seems to clogged in your throat. Pure words for someone with jagged edges. Then you suddenly noticed his tattoo. You still didn’t know what that meant. So you reached out your hand and traced his skin.

“What does your tattoo means?” You asked him.

Hendery held your hand that was tracing his tattoo when he answered. “Survive. To live.”

ix. I believe in the Holy Spirit...

“You really don’t have to, Hendery,” you timidly stated.

Hendery sighed, but his smile never disappeared. “You know I won’t let you go, right?”

It’s six a.m., the both of you have already finished donning your clothes. Some parts of the fabrics were still sodden, but nevertheless wearable. You picked up a lone thread from your skirt before standing up and facing the window. The dream was finished, and you needed to wake up now.

A sigh went past your lips as you stared at the horizon displayed before your eyes. You weren’t sure when you would experience this kind of freedom again, so it was better to seize the remaining moments of not being trapped into a cage that was your own house by taking in the view of a small part of the city.

Hendery stood beside you, his eyes far away. “How do you feel?” he asked.

A sudden heat crept up in your cheeks by the question. The unbidden imagery of last night threaded its way back in your mind. Did you regret doing it with Hendery? Not one bit. Some might call you stupid for falling in a love supported by unspoken promises and confessions, but the union with Hendery have made you feel whole somehow. Like you were in the skies, and the stars were about your reach.

He made you feel powerful. He made you feel worthy of devotion. He made you feel utterly you. No inhibitions, no pretense.

The honesty slid smoothly from your lips. “I feel incredible,” you answered. You turned sideways to face him. Hendery’s face was ethereal in the night, especially when his lips were parted, sweats trickling down his face. But as the early light of the morning hit his features, you couldn’t believe that he could even be this more beautiful.

“How about you?” you managed to ask.

A chuckle. Your heart made the familiar jump at the sound. “I’ve never felt this happy for years.” And it was the truth. Hendery thought that the money and power a banditry offers would give completion in his life somehow, that it would serve as stitches for his tattered life. But as he recalled everything that has happened since he met you, he might be stupid, but he knew real happiness when it’s staring back at him in the wee hours of the morning.

He would’ve bottled the sound of your pleas and your cries if he would, he would’ve kept your laughters in a treasure chest buried someplace else he only knew, he would’ve given you everything and anything— and perhaps he did— if he could. As he stared at your face, so goddamned innocent and peaceful, Hendery knew one thing: you would break him into pieces, and he would let you.

A smile painted your lips, erasing the agitation of what this new day would bring. “I wouldn’t have experienced all of this if not for you,” you told him.

Hendery laughed. “You wouldn’t have experienced all of this if you didn’t dare.”

That was him: the beam that was supporting your life. He’s never failed to make you feel as if you could do everything despite the odds.

Your smile widened. “But now we have to go back.”

“Yeah, unfortunately—” Hendery’s words were cut off by the sound of the bedroom door clicking.

Your eyes widened, but he kept a cool façade. Then it swung open, revealing a middle-aged man carrying a broomstick and a dustpan. His forehead creased as he saw you standing near the window, then realization hit him. “Who are you?!” he shouted.

Hendery gripped your hand, then he dashed for the door, pulling you behind him. The helper was too dumbstruck to even say a thing again, let alone stop you from sprinting away. Hendery was laughing all the way down the stairs, while your forehead was coated with little beads of sweat.

When you reached his motorcycle, Hendery let go of your clammy hand. “That was... incredible!” he gleefully stated.

You tried to catch your breath by gulping large bouts of air. “That was scary!” you told him after steadying your breath.

Hendery fished for his keys from the back pocket of his jeans while still laughing. “Sacristan girls,”

he muttered teasingly.

Rolling your eyes heavenwards, you crossed your arms over your chests. “You don’t have to be a sacristan to know what’s scary or not.”

Once again, the roar of the innkeeper echoed across the gasoline station, bringing you on a hurry to climb Hendery’s motorcycle. With a chuckle, he ignited the engine and revved through the day.

The city was deserted early in the morning. And it was undeniably dull. The paint from different buildings were chipped, and they could really use a renovation. You were baffled at how you didn’t notice the dullness yesterday. Perhaps it was your excitement getting the best of you. Humdrum as it was, this city would forever hold a special place in your heart, along with the man you have traveled here with.

The ride back home was enveloped in utter silence, not that you could hear each other over the loud blare of the motorcycle’s engine. And as you neared to the village, your heart couldn’t help but thud abnormally inside your chests. You felt as if your throat was constricting, air passage clogging. It would deem as if there was an apocalypse waiting for you back home.

No. You have to trust your intuitions, no matter how indistinguishable it was. Your mother knew you were safe, there wasn’t anything to fret about.

But you knew better than to calm down. Your father was a lot easier to convince than your mother, you let your heart loosen up by that fact, even just a little bit.

With the empty and bumpy road ahead of you, the familiar stillness of the village welcomed you back home. A sense of familiarity splashed on you at the sight of tall trees and green meadows. This has been what you have known all your life, you were coming back to it after a night of pretermitting.

“Stop right there,” you said in a voice so low even you had a hard time hearing the words.

Hendery knew that you would never allow him to be seen in the village, much worse with you. But after last night, a slight stab in his heart bloomed at the thought of you, not being able to introduce him to your parents just because he rides a shiny-black motorcycle.

And as if you heard his thoughts, you cleared your throat before Hendery could kill the engine on the side road. “Or... you could take me home.”

It was stupid. Imbecilic. A voice inside your head whispered that it was a bad idea, but upon seeing how Hendery’s lips turned to a smile by looking at the side mirror, all your fear had been vanquished. Suddenly, you were ready to face the world again.

Your grip on his shirt tightened as you entered the village. It was mid-morning. There were a few elders fanning themselves in their verandas under the blistering weather. They squinted at the sight of you, a sudden contempt in their lips which they conveyed as a frown.

“Turn left,” you mumbled, praying that he heard you just right.

By the silence that was unusual of Hendery to exude, you have contemplated that maybe he was nervous, too. The thought made you slightly giddy and anxious at the same time. You have never brought a man home. Not even introduce a boy friend to your parents. Just when you thought that last night would be a history of your own, this morning has proved you wrong.

Your stomach was empty, but you felt like retching in the bushes as Hendery stopped the engine in front of your house. Mother was tending to her flowers when you hopped off the motorcycle. Father was nowhere to be found.

You looked at Hendery before sauntering towards your mother. The rustle of your feet against the grasses garnered her attention. She looked up to see you, then to the boy beside you.

You walked up towards her to kiss her cheek. Mother stood still as your lips made a friction against her skin. She was looking straight at Hendery, who had a polite smile on his face.

You cleared your throat. “Mother, this is Hendery.”

Hendery stretched out his hand to your mother. “Hendery Wong, pleased to meet you.”

Mother stared at his outstretched hand for seconds. Your knees started to wobble. Then Mother took Hendery’s hand. “I’ll prepare the food,” she said, the tone unfathomable.

When she attempted to leave, Hendery quickly raised his arms as if to stop your mother. “It’s fine, Mrs. I just dropped Y/N off.” He looked at you and nodded his head. “See you at the Church, Y/N,” he said.

Your lips coiled in a frown. The atmosphere was thick, and there was no doubt Hendery felt it. Your mother could’ve been warmer in greeting him, but you knew better than anyone else than to force the time when it obviously wasn’t ready.

With a tone of both reluctance and slight disappointment, you mumbled, “See you.”

He nodded one last time before turning his back and getting on his motorcycle.

The same time Hendery revved the engine once more, your father went out of the house with a glass of cold water in hand. “What’s that about?” he asked.

The garden shovel your mother was holding was dropped as she focused her attention towards you. You braced yourself for the imminent storm that was coming. And there it was, in a voice so loud even the houses nearby grew hairs and got goosebumps, your mother cried out, “What on earth are you thinking?!”

Father sipped on his water, his brows arching above the rim. There was no accusation in his eyes, only interest and confusion.

“What do you mean, Mother?” You tried to make your voice sound strong, but it came out as a breathy question.

“What do I mean?!” she roared. “Where were you last night? Tell me the truth.”

Truth be spoken, you were utterly rebellious to neglect your mother last night. But the wanting to experience something greater for once has overcome all your senses. Was it really abhorrent to experience such freedom?

You could feel your veins popping up your temple. Your breath was becoming ragged. And the stubbornness that was trying to envelope you didn’t help. It felt like a bomb ready to explode at any given moment.

“Where have you been—”

“The city!” you screamed back. “I went to the city with Hendery!”

Mother looked at you with a tormented face. From the way her mouth hung open with her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, you could tell that she’s beyond horrified by the revelation.

“How dare you?” she whispered, “How dare you lie to me?”

Father was on her side instantly, laying a gentle hand on her back. “We all need to calm down—”

“Calm down?!” Mother turned to face him. “You’d expect me to calm down when my own daughter defied me?”

You bit your lower lip. What was the big deal? What the fuss was all about? It wasn’t as if you didn’t come home. Here you were, safe and sound.

“I’m sure Y/N could explain herself, right?” Father raised an encouraging brow at you. His lack of judgement pierced your heart with a throb.

“Yeah,” Mother said with enough scorn to make you recoil. “Let her narrate everything!”

You tried to catch your breath before forcing your face to look up to your parents. “What’s so wrong about going to the city?”

“Oh, you are one naive girl,” Mother stated as she made noises in her nose. “You could’ve been infected! You could’ve  brought danger into this home!”

“Mother!” you hissed. “The pandemic has already disappeared! I want to live a normal life now!”

Mother looked at you as if you weren’t her daughter but a mere stranger she’s picked a fight with. “Why are you so foolish and stubborn?”

“Why can’t you let me live my life?” you retorted.

“That’s enough,” Father warned with a commanding tone. His jaw was pulled taut. One more push and the three of you would burn right where you stood because of vexation.

Mother heed no warning for she continued to look at you as if she was contemplating to push you back to her womb. “I’m keeping you safe.”

“Safe?” You could almost laugh. “I don’t want safe.” I want freedom. I want danger. I want the sin. I want the rush.

“That’s enough talking back, Y/N. Return to your room and change,” Father commanded.

Mother’s lips were compressed in a tight line. You’ve expected her to say something, but no words were heard from her as Father guided her back to the house.

You were left alone in the garden, with your neighbors peeking at their fences to catch gossips.

You wish this world had been a little bit forgiving, a little bit welcoming for boys like him. He wasn’t cruel. He was kind... he was protective. And he was a tether to the dreams that you tried so hard to achieve. Without Hendery— the only person who believed that you were meant for greater things— you wouldn’t know what to make of your life anymore. Sure, you would get back on your feet. But you would never want to feel alone in the battle again. You didn’t want to start empty again. And you would never wish to be parted from Hendery. Ever.

x. The Holy Catholic Church…

“Oh, look who’s finally arrived,” Kun uttered with a shit-eating grin as Hendery appeared in the abandoned building Kun made a rendezvous in the outskirts of the town.

For weeks, they stayed and made their camp here. With Kun occupying the last and only good-conditioned room in the building. There, he’s beaten by Hendery for apparently mowing down Xiaojun’s jaw.

The grin Kun had on his face intrigued Hendery, but he wouldn’t let it show on his face. With inquisition was an annoyance Hendery didn’t know where he came from. It was just there, crawling on his skin. Perhaps it was his encounter with your mother, and the lack of warmth in her welcome.

But could he blame her? Not one bit. Hendery didn’t even think of meeting someone else’s parents and being introduced as a lover, but after getting chummy with you, his aspirations in life went a little higher than what he deserved. Hendery knew that it was a bad thing to be zealous, but that was what he had known after joining Kun’s banditry.

“What’s going on?” he asked, albeit not having the heart to inquire in the first place.

After a day and night with you, Hendery yearned for one thing: sleep. He just couldn’t close his eyes when you were lying on his side, with your peaceful face and soft snores. Hendery wanted to capture every moment, to memorize each line of your face, to be drowned in the serenity of the night.

His other comrades were nowhere to be found which was new. At this time of the day, all of them needed to report their sleuthing of a certain area assigned to them. Kun wanted to know everything.

Kun’s grin only widened. “How’s your job, Hen?”

Hendery ran a hand through his hair. “I’m still trying to make my way onto the priest’s chamber.”

Kun sat up on the swivel chair and placed his feet on the table laid before him. “If I’m not mistaken,” he started, “It’s been months since I sent you to the Church. And until now, you still don’t have anything useful to tell me.”

Hendery’s jaw twitched. He hated how he’s inclined to answer every Kun’s calls. And he had never felt this way before towards his work, that was if you could call banditry a job. He was always the best. That made him Kun’s favorite. But that was before he met you.

Meeting you really had changed most of his beliefs about life. He’s almost convinced to let go of his wretched ways and have a normal way of living— a life he could be proud of. And a life with you.

“Father Ben’s strict,” Hendery lied. The priest was as kind as a deer. If Hendery wished to enter his chamber, he’d gladly let him out of his trusting nature. And that would be the end as well as the start of everything. Hendery still wasn’t prepared to drop the new life he has, because that would mean he has to let you go, too. The mere thought made his stomach recoil.

“Strict?” Kun asked as he raised a playful brow. “But you’re my best asset, Hen. There is no ‘strict’ when it comes to you.”

If these were normal times, Hendery would’ve smirked by the compliment. But he knew what Kun meant. And he’s heard the warning even if it was unspoken.

Months ago, Hendery and Sicheng started searching for places to rob in the isolated villages near the local market. Until they had come across the Church. Upon their nightly visit and hawkshawing, Hendery found out that Father Ben has a golden necklace. The thing has become their target ever since. However, you wouldn’t see Father Ben taking the necklace off. Hendery won’t be able to steal it without violence.

He would’ve finished the work sooner than intended. Besides, he knew brutality like the back of his hand. It had become his armor through the years. And Father Ben didn’t hold a special place in his life, no matter how nonjudgmental the priest was. He could easily wrench the necklace away from his neck without any remorse. But he feared you.

The thought of failing you, of disappointing you, and of showing Hendery’s true colors to you has left his courage dwindling.

What cowardice. He would’ve punched himself unconscious if he could. Hendery wasn’t familiar to this kind of weakness, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Hendery shifted on his seat, shaking off the tension from his body. “The priest was surprisingly guarded,” he lied once more. Father Ben was as permeable as the Church itself. It was Hendery’s own choices that the work has slowed down.

Kun hummed. He withdrew something from his drawers. Picture, Hendery noticed, but he was too tired to even think about its connection to the current discussion. “Perhaps you need some boosters to help you do the work.” Then Kun slowly placed the picture flat on his table. Hendery couldn’t see the image well for he was leaning back on his seat. Kun waved his hand. “Look.”

He knitted his brows together. Whatever it was, Hendery had a bad feeling that once he leaned, there would be no turning back. Nevertheless, he didn’t have much choice, did he? So he leaned, like a good boy that he was, and stared at the image.

Hendery bit back the sound which tried to echo from him at what the image displayed. It was his mother. On a hospital bed, looking withered and close to death. She was too frail. Too weak.

Hendery swallowed a sob. “How...” He gulped a few times before willing himself to continue. “How did you find her?”

Should he be rejoicing? He should be happy, right? But why did he feel miserable now more than ever?

“I told you. I’ll help you find her,” Kun said.

Hendery kept looking at the picture, afraid that it might disappear if he blinked. “Where is she?”

Kun chuckled then stood up. Hendery fought the urge to grab him and punch his face. “You act as if you don’t know how to play this game, Wong.” Kun’s fingers grabbed the edge of the picture. He tucked it inside his pocket, his grin never leaving his face.

Hendery bit the insides of his cheeks. Of course, he knew how this game works. “I’ll bring you the necklace tomorrow.”

That night, Hendery washed away the sleep by downing cups of coffee. The liquid takes its root inside his system, pumping blood in a pace that would keep him awake.

He sat on his made-up bed, with a lamplight beside him, providing little to no warmth against the cold. With a white silky towel in hand, Hendery wiped his handgun. It had been a while since he last pulled the trigger. And the weight was dead in his hand.

Perhaps there was no more redemption left for his torn soul. Perhaps he was only fooling himself in believing that his life could be better. Perhaps he was glued to violence and not even you could save him from it. No matter how hard he tries to believe that you could.

xi. The communion of Saints. The forgiveness of sins…

A knock on your door woke you from your trance. You realized you were looking at your reflection on the mirror mindlessly.

“Come in,” you said, clearly indifferent to the possibility that it might be your mother standing and knocking on the other side of the door. But you knew better. She would never raise the white flag for her daughter.

With one last sweep of your hands along your robes, you waited for your father to finally enter. When he did, he went straight to the bed and sat. He’s cornered you, there was no escaping from it now.

“Spill it, Father,” you mumbled, trying to sound as friendly as possible. It was enough that you have stretched your mother’s irascibility. You didn’t need another enemy in this house.

“You do know why mother’s angry with you, right?” he asked. Before you could answer, he continued, “It’s not just about the fact that you went home with a boy. And that you went to the city without telling us.”

A sighed. Then you whirled to face him. “I don’t understand her need to be angry. I am safe. And if she’s talking about the pandemic... I am alright, Father.”

It was Father’s turn to sigh. “I don’t have anything against you going to the city. I know your dreams, your aspirations. But you must understand that your mother’s protective of you because she loves you. And the pandemic isn’t gone. It’s there, we just don’t see it now since its effects have died down.”

You looked out the window, feeling as if your tears might betray you anytime. “I just want to experience life.”

Father walked up to you and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I know. Hell, I want you to live life to the fullest, too. Have fun, have mistakes. Kiss boys. Be crazy. But it isn’t the time. Your mother’s still not ready.”

With tears brimming, you looked up to your father. “And when would she be?”

Father smiled his kindest one. “Soon, darling.”

—

Your walking towards the church was occupied with birds chirping in the branches, and flowers blossoming in the meadows. Perhaps it will be a bright day despite the darkness of yesterday.

Hendery never left your mind, even though you have a lot to think about. He was etched in your brain, like some sort of a tattoo you wouldn’t be able to erase. That made you think whether he was thinking about you, too.

You shrugged the thoughts away as you arrived at the Church. It was unusually silent when you arrived. At this time of day, the other sacristan should be running around and helping clean the surroundings. It didn’t settle well with you.

“Kristan!” you called out when you saw him running towards Father Ben’s chamber. Is the priest sick?

Kristan halted to wait for you. You huffed a breath as you laid your hand on his shoulder. “Where is everyone?”

The little boy bit the insides of his cheek. He didn’t meet your eyes when he said, “At Father Ben’s chamber.”

“What are they doing there? And what’s that for?” you asked, regarding the white and clean towel he was holding. Instead of answering, Kristan held your hand and pulled you towards the priest’s chamber.

The little bedroom was jam packed with the sacristans occupying most of the spaces. Father Ben was sitting on his rocking chair, with what you could tell was an ice-cube inside a clean towel being pressed on his left cheek by Lucy.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “What happened here?” you asked particularly no one.

Father Ben winced. “I am alright, hija,” he said. But he looked nothing like that.

Lucy glared your way. Her eyes were full of accusations. “Hendery did this to him,” she practically spat out the words with venom.

Now you couldn’t even feel your heart anymore. Hendery did this? How? Why? Despite feeling numb, you stepped closer to Father Ben. “Hendery... did this?”

How... Why... Gods, why? Father Ben looked at Lucy’s way, then the latter pursed her lips. She washed the cloth into the nearest basin, therefore allowing you to see the cut in Father’s cheekbone.

“He... punched me earlier,” Father Ben said in a low voice. He was undeniably pained by what happened. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, let alone react to something other than a thunderstruck expression. “And he stole my necklace.”

By that, you grabbed the nearest chair and sat. You placed your hand between your chest. This is all too much. Your bones felt like collapsing. “The... the necklace your mother gave you?” you asked this without looking at him. It was hard to do that when you feel responsible for everything that has happened.

No, it isn’t right to hurt yourself like this. But Hendery has been with you since day one. If he planned something as horrible as this, you would’ve known. You should’ve known. How could you be so stupid?

“Yes,” Father Ben breathed as he absentmindedly reached for his necklace. As far as you could tell, the necklace was given to him by his mother when he was little. It was an heirloom of sorts. A treasured legacy.

“How could he do this?” Lucy interrupted. “We welcomed him here. Believing that he was good.”

“It was another thing to steal. And another to hurt someone to rob them,” Rei added.

You really couldn’t blame them. You were in absolute shock to even argue and pretend that Hendery was better than this. They wouldn’t tell you he was the culprit if he wasn’t, right? God, you couldn’t breathe.

“I think he’s a bandit,” Lucy stated once more.

With that, you looked up at her. “That is a grave accusation to make, Lucy.” Now, you are even making excuses for Hendery. You could laugh from your own imbecility.

“Yes. I know,” she said. Then she stood tall. “But what would you have me call him? A grave man deserves a grave name.”

“Perhaps he has his reasons.” Your voice sounded uncertain. For you have no idea what could be the reason behind all this..

Lucy sniggered. “I used to think you were reasonable, Y/N. Don’t stoop so low. He’s hit Father Ben. He’s robbed him. Whatever reason he might have, it was wrong.”

You fell silent. Lucy speaks the truth. Hendery has done something hideous. He could be a bandit all along. He could be the one who’s been robbing the villagers off their small riches all this time. And yet… how? How could he smile at you like he could replace an angel in heaven? How could you be so naive and stupid?

Without your own realization, you have run away from the Church already. To where? You have no idea. But you needed to free the tightening rope inside your chest— you need to salvage your heart off a heartache. Seeing Father Ben dispirited, as well as your co-sacristans, have shot a bullet to your heart.

You felt ashamed and wounded. But before mending your own wounds, you have to search for Hendery first.

xii. The resurrection of the body...

Million thoughts ran in Hendery’s mind as he looked at the emaciated body of his mother lying in a hospital bed. A glass separates them both, but he felt far away to her now than before. She was looking so frail— as if her bones would snap if you did so much as to hold her hand in a featherweight touch.

Her situation pierced Hendery’s heart with a sword. It didn’t matter that he’d found her now. He doesn’t feel happiness for this accomplishment. Misery. Hate. And that hole of missing his mother for years were the only things he could coax himself to feel.

Perhaps he was too far gone because of his loathsome heart. Or perhaps it was because of the teenager standing beside his mother’s bed, sobbing his heart out, while a middle-aged man pats his back to soothe him. As much as Hendery didn’t want to admit it, he could see the same nose and lips that he’s got from his mother in the boy to even deny the truth. He’s his brother. Half-brother.

He balled his hand into fist. Sudden heat coated Hendery’s tear ducts. He swept the lone tear away with his jacket-sleeve. He’s accepted the truth before— he’s made peace of the fact that his mother abandoned him. But why does it hurt to look the truth in the face? She’s cared and loved another son while Hendery longed for her embrace. She’s fed another mouth while Hendery starved in the streets.

Why must the world be cruel?

Hendery stepped back and sat on the chair beside the glass window. He made himself as unimposing as possible until the father and son departed the room. Hendery gathered himself and walked towards the door, towards his mother.  

“A... Alec, is that—” Her mouth abruptly clamped shut as she realized who was standing before her. Without another word, her shoulder shook and there were tears in her eyes.

Hendery looked up, biting his lip. He won’t cry. He won’t cry. He won’t cry. “Come on, mom,” he stammered. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me for a long time, right?” Then he looked at her. She was coughing and sobbing now. Hendery had to help her sit up to give her some water.

“Is that really you?” she asked, thin fingers crawling at Hendery’s cheek. Her hand was cold. But it gave Hendery the warmth he was searching for. “Son,” she choked, “I’m sorry.”

Her voice was too weak. Hendery felt like he shouldn’t let her talk. So he shushed her instead. “I...” he stuttered, “I hate you, mom.” That’s it. He won’t hold back. He needs to say it. “I hate you so much. You left me. You left me to die.”

If her mother looked thunderstruck, her sunken eyes didn’t show it. “Hendery, son, I didn’t—”

“I became a bandit to survive. I kill now, mom. I kill so I can live. I kill so I can find you. I’ve asked myself a million times whether it was your fault I became like this.” Hendery snorted at the end. “But it was of my own choice so I couldn’t really blame you, could I? I chose this path to survive.

“I learned how to hold a gun because I need it. I’ve robbed people for money. For my own glory. For you. You left me in the dust. And all my life I’ve wondered why. Why did she leave me? Didn’t she love me? But I’ve thought about it and realized that I don’t need answers. I just need to see you.”

Her mother sobbed again. “I’m sorry, son, I’m sorry— I was scared.”

“Scared,” Hendery repeated. “We would’ve been fine together, mom. You and I.”

“I know,” she choked. “But when your father died— I was scared of the reality that we were alone. During a pandemic. The both of you were hanging on for your lives inside the ICU. And I’d nearly lost my mind.

“When he died, I didn’t have the chance to say good bye. They took him and burned his body. I was alone. Alone, thinking that you could be the next one they’d burn and I won’t have the chance to see your beautiful face for the last time. Instead of facing it all, I called your Aunt. When she came, I left.”

Hendery wanted to tell every abuse he’s gone through with his Aunt. But he didn’t want to remember those times, and he didn’t want to add into his mother’s guilt.

“I’m dying, son,” she whispered.

That, Hendery could tell. There’s a pang in his heart, yes, but he knew that there won’t be happy endings for bad people like him. All of us die in the end, however.

“I’m happy to see you,” she said, “It’s all I’ve ever wished to God every night.”

God. Is this what it feels like to know that someone has been praying for you? He felt... empty. Like everything is too late. The wound has been crawling with worms and there’s no more gauges to stop the pus.  

“Do they... know me?” Hendery asked, voice low.

Her mother pursed her lips together. “No. I haven’t told them about you.”

Of course, Hendery muttered in his mind. He stood up, smoothed his shirt with a forced smile and looked down at his mother. “I’ll better be going, then.”

“Where are you going? Hendery, son...”

Hendery placed his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I am fine.” Far from it, but you didn’t need to know that, he thought.

His mother’s eyes were red-rimmed, thus accentuating how sunken they’ve become. “Can you... give me a hug?”

Hendery blinked as he did not expect such favor. But he leaned forwards absentmindedly, and hug his mother tightly. He first heard his own sob before realizing that he was crying like a little boy in his mother’s arms. This wasn’t the reunion he had in mind. He thought they could still reunite and make a life together. Be away from people. Hendery thought he would take care of his mother until she’s grey and old.

But life has other cruel plans. The path has been twisted years ago. And whatever he could get from this hug, it is enough.

It would be enough.

With an empty mind, Hendery drove through the night. He didn’t know where to go. His mind has been blank since his visit to the hospital.

What does he feel? Fuck, what does he feel? He felt ashamed. For everything that’s happened today. From the way he cornered and punched Father Ben just to get his necklace. He wanted to blur and erase the shame. He wanted to disappear.

Hendery revved the engine. Faster and faster, he drove without destination. The wind got harsher, the night still dangerous. He couldn’t take his mind off Kun’s smile when he finally handed him the golden necklace. Kun tapped his back and congratulated him, his eyes twinkling like stars. Hendery never wanted to see the same sparkle in the man’s eyes anymore.

Then his mind drifted to you. Knuckle white around the accelator, Hendery bottled up the scream that has threatened to explode from him. You. With your kind smile and angelic face. You’re so good. And Hendery let you down. For once, he met someone who was willing to accept his flaws and every bad thing about him. But he answered you with claws.

So after all the disgrace, why did he stop in front of your house?

The village was quiet. No more lights could be seen inside the house. A further indication that you are already asleep. Despite that, Hendery found himself walking towards the small alleyway leading to your room. There’s a tree, beside your window. Hendery hesitated for a moment whether he would knock on your window to wake you up. Besides, he has been reckless with his decisions and he didn’t need you to think of him as a creep.

However, he stood a few meters away from the window. And there, all his muscles strained. He was locked up in his place as his eyes met yours. Donned in your nightgown, you stood there looking outside. Your own eyes turned wide as you realized that Hendery was standing if not in front of you.

He gulped, then quickly pivoted on his heels to walk away. No. He isn’t ready to talk to you tonight. The shame was too overwhelming for him to ignore.

“Hendery!” you screamed, and that would’ve been enough to wake the whole house.

Hendery’s steps faltered.

“Wait for me,” you uttered just enough for him to hear.

He sucked in a breath. No. He couldn’t do this. But before he could decide to run away, a hand tugged him. Hendery faced you. You had your hand in your chest as you tried to calm your breath.

“Y/N,” he whispered. Here you were, standing in front of him under the pale moonlight. Everything would’ve been romantic if not for the circumstances.

“Hendery.” You say his name like he’s good. Like he deserves forgiveness. Why?

“I…” he stammered, “I did something hideous.”

He expected you to accuse him. To shout at him. But all you did was to hold his hand. “Why?”

Hendery’s hand abruptly trembled. He bit his lower lip so hard, it bled. “My mother,” he choked. “Y/N… I saw her. Everything is for her.” He couldn’t stop his sniveling no matter how he try to stop it. In between sobs, Hendery told you what happened, his hand never letting go of yours. The shame that he’s felt has been obliterated clean. He didn’t even care about the tears rolling down his cheeks.

After he opened himself up to you, you reached for him and hugged his body tightly. Hendery fought the urge to cry again. So he hugged you back instead, drowning in your scent.

When you pulled back, there’s a lone tear sliding down your cheek. Hendery wiped it away with his thumb, cupping your cheek with his cold hand.

“Now. This is what we’ll do,” you began.

xiii. And life everlasting…

You paced in front of the altar, trying your hardest to contain your heart inside your chest. It’s been at least twenty-four hours since you last saw Hendery. Your mind would explode thinking of what could’ve happened to him now. He’s supposed to come back an hour later.

You started to think that maybe it was a stupid plan all along. But you couldn’t blame him. He wanted to redeem himself to Father Ben, albeit it’s hard doing so. And he really didn’t plan to do exactly that. Hendery only wanted to return the necklace.

After his visit last night, where in he told you all that has transpired between him and his mother, you told him how important the necklace was for Father Ben. It is an heirloom, given by his mother.

You tried to coax Hendery that he should go to church and ask for Father Ben’s forgiveness. And yet he insisted that he would return the necklace. No matter what happens.

No matter what happens. That didn’t sit well with you.

In the end, you couldn’t argue with him anymore. He was determined to prove himself: that he’s worthy of good things and of forgiveness. Such raw emotions. It made you cry.

You agreed to meet here in the Church. Hendery says it’s safer this way. It is still the house of God, according to him. No one would attempt to harm you here.

You faced the altar and knelt, but before you could chant the first prayer, the latch of the door sounded. Hurriedly, you stood up on your feet.

In the dark, the silhouette of Hendery was drawn. He limped towards you while clutching something in his hand. You ran towards him, relief flooding your system. Tears pricked your eyes by how at ease you’ve felt by seeing him.

“Hendery!” you squealed and hugged him tightly.

He chuckled weakly before pulling away. “Here,” he says. “For Father…” Then he coughed. He coughed. With blood spurting out of his mouth. Your heart dropped on your feet. No.

Before you could think, Hendery fell to the floor, kneeling. Bouts of cough attacked his throat.

“Hendery,” you sobbed, “What happened?” You knelt in front of him, holding his shoulders to support his frail body.

“This is nothing,” he tried to say, but the world were muffled.

Panicking won’t help. So you strived to remain calm although your heart was beating jarringly inside your ribcage. And in the end, you sobbed and cried. “Help!” you cried out with all your might. “Help us! Hendery!”

You locked Hendery’s arm around your shoulder and hurled yourself up. But his weight was dead and he doesn’t seem to be doing well. “Hendery, please!” You were a crying mess. Vision blurry, throat wrapped up in pins and thorns and needles. You placed your arm around his waist and tried to hurl him up for the second time, but Hendery screamed in pain as you made contact with his side.

He fell to the ground.

And there was too much blood.

Blood. You stared at your trembling hands.

“No!” you screamed. “Hendery!” You sat and scooped him up in your arms, tears streaming down your face to his. “Stay with me! God!”

Hendery’s eyes were drooping now. They look like crystals, frantic and wild. “I…” He coughed. Blood came out of his mouth again.

You shushed him, brushing away his hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was feverish. You choked again and again, trying to gulp down your cries. “Stay. With. Me.” You give emphasis to each word. “Hendery! No! No! Stay awake! Please!” You even started to slap his cheeks just to keep his eyes open.

Then his bloodied hand found your cheek. You sobbed as it made contact with your skin. “You…” he uttered under his breath, “you’re... so beautiful.” Hendery flashed you a smile. His teeth coated with blood.

“Please.” You bit your lower lip. “Stay with me.”

Hendery stared at your face, tears streaming down from his eyes. “So…” he whispered again, drawing circles on your cheek, “... beautiful.”

Then his hand fell.

Hendery spent his last breath with you. In front of the altar. With God your only witness that night.

Amen.

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

The girl from the Prophecy - One

Geralt of Rivia x Mage!Reader

Story Summary: In the world of mages, Witchers and monsters there is a prophecy about a young sorceress, a heir of the one and only Jan Bekker. The one to subject the ‘Force’. The one to control all the Chaos. But it’s just a prophecy after all. An old one and well forgotten.

Chapter Summary: Living alone in the house in the middle of the forest was always quiet. Until Geralt of Rivia and his very loud bard-friend decide to stumble at the swamp near your house.

Story Warning: Possible spoilers from books and games! Swear words, angst, fluff, possible smut, Witcher-like violence.

A/N: So this idea has been in my head since I read the book (which was around 10 years ago), but because the Witcher community was almost non-existant I decided to never post it. But now that Netflix series came out, I can finally post this story. I am super excited. Because I read those book and played the games in Polish I do apologise if some wordings aren’t right (sorry, English isn’t my mother tongue)

I hope you all will enjoy this little story <3

You were used to being alone. You lived on your own since you were seven. The walls of your family house were the only thing that surrounded you all day. The walls, your bow you used to kill the animals in the forest and the teenage boy that always came here to pick up lotions for the people in the town. The villagers. You went to the town once after your father killed himself. It was a week after you buried him by yourself at the little lake he used to love so much. You were tired, hungry and sad. A kid left alone in this world. You did not understand why your dad hated you, why he left you alone. And so you didn’t understand why he always forbade you to go to the town. But you understood it quite quickly that day. 

The way they looked at you. Their whispers and hissed words directed at you. They hated you. They despised you and for some bizarre reason, they feared you. It did not matter to them that you had the money for food. No one wanted to talk to you. No one even cared to help you. They called you a WITCH. There were even some that believed you were the one who killed both your mother and father. You remember coming back home that day and cry yourself to sleep that night. 

But you decided not to give up on life and follow the steps of your father. You took the bow that belonged to your mother and taught yourself how to use it. While cleaning their bedroom you found some books and scrolls and spent your free time reading. 

Before your mother died she read you a lot. She taught you how to read. She told you stories about the world beyond the village and the forest you lived in. She used to tell you about a beautiful power you had inside of you and how she would help you to master it one day. She gave you a necklace one day and told you to never take it off. She even showed you basics of hunting. Until one day she got sick. You remember your dad sitting next to her bed all day and night until she gave away her last breath. Your mother was a strong, beautiful and kind woman. She knew what she wanted in life. She knew what she wanted for you and wasn't afraid to put the most bizarre dreams and adventure plans in your head. But she wasn’t able to fulfil any of the promises she gave you. 

Before she died your father was a nice man, who worked at the stable in the village. He loved horses and always told you stories of them, promising to take you there one day, to meet his friends, as he called them. Another unfulfilled promise. 

You remember this kind man who made you this awful porridge every time you were sick. You remember the man that loved your mom with all his heart. You remember him, even when he changed. After your mother’s death, he changed. The way he looked at you was similar to the way the villagers looked at you that day. He ignored you, only giving you food. He didn’t speak. He went to work very early in the morning and came back at night. 

A night before he killed himself he came back from the town completely drunk and dirty. He looked at you in the same way as he did since your mom died and spoke to you, the first and the last time since the love of his life died. 

“I tried to love you. When you were born and your mother told me you had the same powers she did, I knew she would be able to teach you and hide it from the villagers… But someone found out about her and you. Have you got any idea how hard it is for me to go to this damn place and hear about the Witch I live with? God! How I wish it was you who died and not her. I see you reading those damn books this woman left behind and all I want is to slit your throat in the middle of the night. But I can’t, you know why? Because you look just like her!” You remember the tears in your eyes and your little heart, breaking into million pieces because the only person you had in this world hated you. “You are nothing and will be nothing. The villages hate you because you are a Witch. I go to sleep every night afraid you will kill me in your sleep. But I’m done! I’m done with you and with all those idiots in the village. I can finally go and see your mother! I curse you! You will never be loved and you will die alone! ” You didn’t understand the meaning of his words until the morning when you find him at the kitchen table with a knife on the floor and a slit throat. You remember not screaming, unable to move. You stood there for what seemed like hours and looked at the dry blood on the kitchen floor. 

It has been 10 years since that day. And nothing changed. You were still living alone, away from the villagers. You did, however, try to learn from your mother’s books. You were able to use some of the magic you learned to help the animals in the forest that needed your help. You were happy to be able to heal them. You were a Witch, but at least you tried to use it for a good purpose. You avoided the village, getting your own food from the forest and water from the lake a mile away from the house you lived in. 

By accident, you met a boy, no older than 8, five years ago. He was swimming at the lake with his four years old sister. He didn’t seem to be afraid or disgusted by you. You gave him a pie you baked for yourself, and since that day he was your mediator. You were selling different kinds of ointments and creams thanks to him. He would take it from you and sell it, saying to everyone it’s from the village next to yours. No one questioned him how he got it. But were happy to buy them. You gave him food and 10% of what you earned and he never turned you on. 

You were used to the monsters in the forest. There were some from time to time. Normally some Drowners that were coming out from the lake. You read about all of the possible monsters and always had some silver with you. Your arrows had a bit of it in them. 

You knew the flow of the air and the energy in the sky when the monster appeared. But today, it was different. There was something else in the forest. No… someone else. 

Quickly, you took your bow with you, with that little dagger you always carried around, put your hood on and left your house to examine what was wrong. 

So many times you tried to fight the feeling of not caring what would happen to the villagers. But you couldn't. You quickly realised that you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if something happened to anyone while you could have done something. So you played the role of the saviour without no-one realising it. 

Your steps were cautious afraid to scare whatever, or whoever was there. Your bow ready for action. Possibly needed spells already memorized in your head. You didn't care if you died, but it did not mean you wanted to die. 

You stopped, hearing grunts and squicking of what you assumed were drowners. Your hand squished the bow and you took another step, holding when you noticed a huge man, with incredible white hair and a sword that in normal conditions would get your eyes to shine with curiosity. He was standing there alone, fighting all those monsters. And to your surprise, he was doing quite alright. You frowned noticing the black orbits. Witcher. 

You never saw one, but you read about them enough to know that this man in front of you should be able to handle himself. 

"I wouldn't come closer, my lady!" You turned, pointing your arrow between the eyes of the man that just came standing near you. You frowned seeing his colourful clothing. 

"Who are you?" You asked quietly, not lowering your weapon. Just because he didn't seem like hurting you didn't mean he wouldn't. 

"Julian Alfred Pankratz, but you can call me Jaskier my lady. A bard. One and only who shares the adventures of Geralt of Rivia!" Saying it he showed to the man who was fighting right now. "You must have heard of…"

"Why are you not helping him?" You lowered the bow and turned to the fighting man. It must have been your imagination but it seemed like he became slower. 

"Geralt of Rivia does not need my help", your hand moved a bit when the Witcher hissed with pain. The monster did not seem to lower in numbers and his energy did not seem to grow. 

You waited, trying to ignore the whispers from Jaskier near your ear. The man - Geralt - seemed to lose energy faster than you expected. He must have been hurt somewhere vital. You took a deep breath and secured the hood on your head. You could not sit and watch a man die on your watch. Not when you would be able to help him. 

Not thinking of the consequences, you mumbled the words of the spell and invisible barrier appeared around the man, at the same time he fell on the floor. The drawers turned towards you, the moment you threw them away with your magic. Raising your bow, you killed three of them and while the others approached you raised your hands in front of you and whispered. 

"Henenaa fireaoth kerelanth!" The bright light came out from your hands and the monsters in front of you dilacerated into pieces. 

"Fuck!" Jaskier shouted in disbelief when you stood there, breathing a bit faster than you liked. You closed your eyes when this weird voice in your head came back. It always happens when you used a stronger type of spells. "You are a mage! Fuck that was amazing!" Relaxing you turned towards the Witcher who was lying unconscious on the grass. Ignoring the bard you kneeled in front of the white-haired and checked his pulse. Alive. Good. You looked around and sighed. It was dangerous to heal him here in case the drowners would come back. 

"Sir Jaskier", he shut up hearing your formality. "Your friend seems like a heavy man. I live nearby, would you be kind enough to help me to bring him to my house. I should be able to help him there." The bard nodded and helped you to raided Geralt to his feet. He growled but didn't say anything. Apparently, he wasn't fully unconscious. You glanced at the drowners bodies and promised yourself to come back here and ran it up, after taking care of the Witcher. 

**

You found out pretty quickly that the bard was a talkative man, that had no boundaries. He spoke of Geralt, of the adventures, the beautiful women he came to see and wish to see more. Despite it being tiring, you enjoyed hearing him talk. When you're so used to leaving alone, the voice of another human is always pleasing. 

"I was able to heal his most vital wounds. When he wakes up, I'd like him to take a bath and clean the blood out, before I put him back to bed." You mumbled making Jaskier shut for a while. “The bandages should last till he wakes up but the wound on his thigh worries me…” You weren’t accustomed to a half-naked man in your bed, but the clothes he was wearing were sticking enough to his body due to the mud and water. “He seems to heal pretty well by himself, so probably I shouldn’t worry.”

“He lived through worse”, Jaskier joked, sitting in front of the fire that you kindled to help the Witcher sweat whatever possible toxin could travel through his body. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” You mumbled looking at the enormous amount of scars plastered on his body. You could only imagine the number of monsters he had to fight in his entire life. It saddens you to see that, but also, you could not help but think of the chunk of adventures he lived and feel a bit jealous. “Stay here for a while, please.” The bard looked up at you when you started to head to the doors. “If he wakes up, please make him drink what’s in the cup, there.” He nodded and you smiled a bit, thanked that he was willing to help. They may have a weird relationship, but this annoyingly talkative man truly cared about the Witcher. 

Taking your bow you came back to the river and collected what could be useful to make any potions. Drawners’ bodies were full of important ingredients and if they were already killed, you weren’t the one to pass on the occasion to pick it up. You took the man’s swords that he lost during the fight and was about to walk back home when you heard a shuffling in the forest. Your bow ready to attack, but you lowered it, when a horse came out, moving his head around, almost as if looking of its owner. A small smile appeared on your lips and you slowly started to walk to the animal. 

“Hey, beautiful!” You whispered, stroking its magnificent mane. “Do you belong to the Witcher?” It moved its head, pushing you a bit. You chuckled at its reaction, almost as it understood you. Well. Even if it did not belong to the men you left at your house, you wouldn’t say no to some company. After all, animals were always better for humans, at least to you. 

*

To your surprise, the Witcher did not wake up before you came back. What’s worse Jaskier has fallen asleep and he was snoring. Not annoyingly, but still. You were able to make your own bed for Geralt and some extra sleeping for Jaskier and even start preparing some food for the three of you when you heard voices in the next room. 

“She said you need to drink that”, you watched from the door how the bard tried to make his friend drink whatever medicine you left for him. “Y/N!” He finally exclaimed, noticing you. He stood up and walked to you, gesticulating with his hands. “I told him to drink it, but he’s as stubborn as…”

 “Who are you?” Your eyes landed on the Witcher, who was gazing at you, almost as you were an assassin sent to kill him.

“I’m Y/N.” You started, slowly walking towards him. “I live him and you, dear Witcher stumbled across some awful Drawners.” You smiled softly at him and took the cup that he put away just seconds ago. “I tried to make it drinkable, so please take it.” He stared at the liquid inside of the cup and with a growl, he drank it all in one go. 

“What am I doing here?” His tone a bit less offensive now as he was during the previous question. His low voice bringing you shivers, that ran through your whole spine. 

“We saved your life, Geralt!” Jaskier chimed it, apparently unhappy to be left behind. “Ok, fine, she saved your life.” You chuckled quietly when Geralt raised his brow. “I did help carry your heavy ass in here…” He grunted, crossing his arms at his chest. 

“You did indeed.” You answered, making him smile at you. “You were fighting Drowners, and as impressive as it was, you were outnumbered. You should think of a better companion next time.” The Witcher smirked and poor Jaskier gasped offended. “I was able to stop the bleeding and take care of your major wounds, but the one on the thigh is still making me worry.” You repeated what you said to the Bard not so long ago. Your eyes travelled down seeing how the blood managed to soak through the bandages. 

“You used magic…” You froze, hoping that he would not remember it. You already asked Jaskier not to tell anyone. “Two spells at the same time.” He looked you in the eyes and frowned. “You’re the Witch the village is talking about.” He noticed how the little happy sparkles disappeared from your eyes. Your shoulders collapsed a bit and you started to nervously play with the little necklace around your neck. 

“Is that why you were so near my house?” you asked. Your voice low and flat. “You got a job on me? Kill the awful Witch from the woods?” The gravelly sound of your voice made Geralt frown. Yes, he did hear stories from the villagers about the awful Witch that lives near the swamp. But none of those stories seemed to be real when he has an opportunity to see you in person. 

“What if I do?”

“Geralt!” Jaskier hissed, but one look from his friend and he piped down. 

“Tell me, Y/N, what if I did get a job to kill you?” He looked at you waiting for your answer. You didn’t look frightened, nor like someone who was about to kill him. not after you spent so much afford on keeping him alive. 

“Then I guess I wouldn’t stop you, Witcher…” His eyes widened just a bit at your open surrender. You looked up and smiled sadly at the man. “But there is something that tells me you don’t plan on ending my life just yet.” With that, you took a fresh bandage and started to walk to the last of your room. “I will get the bath ready. Some warm water should help with the herby medication I put on your wounds.” And with no words, you left the two men behind. 

“That was awful, Geralt!” Jaskier hissed at his friend, looking at the now-closed doors. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“She’s a mage. A good one.”

“Well, yeah! She helped you with the Drowners.” the bard rolled his eyes, still feeling sorry for you. 

“No girl with powers escapes Aretuza.” Jaskier frowned, remembering Yennefer mentioning something about it once or twice. “She’s too ordinary looking, which means she wasn’t taught there…” 

“So...She’s really a Witch?” The Geralt hummed and shook his head. That necklace you had. It interfaced with his necklace. There was something different with that necklace. Something mysterious about you as well. Something that Geralt for sure wants to find out. 

[razorblade180]

Father’s Day

[Lasting embers au]

Jael is sleeping soundly in her bed until she feels something putting pressure on her arm. Slowly she stirs awake to Adam by her bed in his typical disguise. His hair laid down and temporarily dyed black, tented shades for the scar, and more pedestrian clothing. Jael carefully rubbed her eyes. It was nighttime judging by the light in her room.

Jael:Dad? I didn’t know you were coming home so soon. How was the mission?

Adam:Nothing worth talking about. It’s passed midnight, happy Father’s Day.

Jael:...I think you have this backwards.

Adam:Hehe, little bit but for good reason. Get dressed we’re leaving Menagerie.

Jael:...WH-*mouth covered*

Adam:Ssshh, your mother doesn’t know; I’ll apologize later. I already visited Sienna at her boot camp so don’t worry about you hogging me for the day.

Jael:Where are we going? And how exactly does this count as me giving you a present?

Adam:I get to spend time with my fourteen year old daughter doing something new.

He could see the happiness in her eyes when he said those words. Jael really was simple girl. All she ever wanted was time with him and he felt the same. She hopped out of bed and gently floated down. Jael wasn’t sure what he had planned but getting to leave Menagerie was enough. Finally, a chance to see the outside world.

Several hours have passed since they snuck out. Jael dozed in and out of sleep while on the ride in the airship, barely remembering it. Only that leaning on her father was strangly comfortable and Neo was flying the airship.

Now she rested on his back while he and Neo jumped from rooftop to rooftop in what looked to be Vacou from what books told her about the place. Jael wanted to walk around but apparently Adam didn’t want her to see the chattering streets yet.

Jael:Still haven’t explained why we are here. Not that I’m complaining.

Neo:Patience, baby goat. The sun will rise any minute now. Also you have me to thank for telling your father about this event.

Jael:Event?

Adam:Father’s day falls on a special day this year for Vacou. When Neo told me about it I knew I had to bring you. This spot should do.

He bent down to let Jael get off then got behind her. She’d be lying if she said her curiosity was running rapid; he seemed proud of himself by the way he spoke. Slowly he adjusted her to a spot that overlooked everything but it was still a little too dark to see.

Then...sunrise hit. Light slowly grew over the land and what couldn’t be seen before quickly became visible, leaving Jael speechless. The buildings, the people, the very sand, it was all bathed in color. Multiple colors that belonged on a spectrum she had told him she was apart of a few months prior. Jael was looking at a huge Pride Parade.

Her gaze on it was finally broken when she felt weight of something draped over her. Jael could barely hold back her tears as she wrapped the flag around her tighter and turned around to see Adam smiling and Neo putting on face paint; the bisexual colors if Jael remembered correctly.

Jael:I...I don’t know what say right now.

Adam:A few months ago you came to me terrified, not sure what I would think if you told me you were lesbian. Remember what I said?

Jael:You were happy you didn’t have scare any boy?

Neo:Oh my god.

Adam:Okay, I did say that, but after I said...

Jael:*smiles* Your love for me as my father is on every spectrum.

Adam:No you know how serious those words are. I love you.

He opened his arms and Jael quickly ran to be embraced by them, happily shedding her tears of joy. Definitely not a conventional Father’s Day gift, but it’s the best one yet.

xxxx

Ren was having a calm morning. For the pass two weeks Nora and Tenzen had been gone on some camping trip so his days had been quiet. A little lonely but he could handle it. He knew today they’d be back. They didn’t say they would but if he knew his family...

Nora:*opens door* We’re home!

16 yo Tenzen:Yeah!!! Happy Father’s Day!

No way they would miss today. Both of them were dirty, unusually dirty. Specially their hands and knees seemed extra worn out.

Ren:You two okay? You both could’ve washed up before rushing back. Honestly it wouldn’t have bothered me if you came back halfway through the day.

Nora:Don’t worry about us. Nothing is too much when it comes to spoiling you.

Tenzen:She’s right, we’d move mountains for you. Or in this case...rubble.

Ren looked confused by Tenzen’s words. The boy reached into his bag and pulled out a wrapped present to hand to his father. It was small and rectangular; too thin to be a book Ren thought. He unwrapped it gently and gasped when the paper was finally removed. Tears instantly came from him.

Nora and a Tenzen took the opportunity to stand on each side of him and hug tightly. They smelled like the great outdoors but he didn’t care. Why would he when they had just given him a picture of his mother and father holding a infant version of himself. All that rubble that must’ve buried it, and it remained okay. He took ahold of their tired hands and held them close to his chest.

Ren:Thank you...

Tenzen:Like mom said...

Nora:Nothing will ever be too much.

xxxx

Jaune was having his own emotional moment. It wasn’t unlike Yujin to try and do something creative but this time, she went big.

Currently he stood on his porch and stared at the fifteen year old girl who wore her ‘Proof Jaune Arc Got Laid” t-shirt like she did every year, but that wasn’t the amazing part. What had him speechless was the dozens of family members that stood behind her. Yujin managed to get them all the way to patch.

Jaune:Wh..what’s all this about?

Yujin:I had them all show up so you couldn’t dispute what I’m about to say. Dad, Jaune Arc, I owe you so much. Yes it takes a villages to raise a kid and I know you had plenty of help but that doesn’t change that you were always in my corner. Me, the girl who refused to open up to you sometimes; who truly deserved strong lecturers for her attitude instead of the hugs you decided to give. Every single day you gave me so much love and affection above what I thought possible in order to make up for mom. All the kisses, hugs, late night talks, t-tears....

Her voice started choking up and her eyes began to water as she kept speaking.

Yujin:When I was at my lowest and filled with anger you never lost your patience with me. Instead you made sure I continued to eat and gave me space to go through it all. Then the moment I called for you, there you were, by my side ready to talk. Almost sixteen years of living in that house filled with love has gone by and I just need you to know that even as I get older, act like I might have everything figured out, and go off to Beacon soon thanks to your training. I’m always going to be your little girl and I love you from the very bottom of my heart. So can you please shut me up right now and hug me.

Jaune:*sniffling*You can run over here anytime.

Yujin ran up the porch steps and gave Jaune the biggest hug she’s ever given, crying ever so slightly as he rubbed the back of her head. He could hear the clapping and tears from his many family members, but noticed one thing. No Tai. He felt a sudden surge of warmth as he saw through his watery eyes the main in question through the trees, hugging his own daughters who should be hundreds of miles away.

As if by instinct, both girls looked in his direction, also emotional. He knew they couldn’t stay. That Raven most likely opened a portal so they can have a moment with Tai who would’ve been sad not seeing them. Yang looked at him lovingly as she watched him hold their daughter. “I love you” could be easily read from her lips and smile on her face as he mouthed it back. Then, they left. He thought it best not to tell Yujin. He knew Yang would eventually be able to come home, that Yujin would see her mother again. Until then, he’d continue giving his daughter enough love to make up the difference.

Jaune:Yujin, thank you for being my daughter. I know your mother would say the same.

[Twin Snowflakes au]

Valerie:Hey dad, I need your opinion on something. Can you come in the living room for a second?

Ren:Sure thing. What’s-

Right in in the middle of the room were two game pads and Valerie in baggy shorts and a green tank top. Ren looked at the tv flashing DDR in neon colors.

Valerie:So I was in town and found this game store selling this pretty old game. Apparently on two player it’s supposed to be really fun and competitive so I got to thinking.... I bet dad wouldn’t mind a few rounds.

Ren:Nora has been talking about the old days again?

Valerie:Perhaps, so, think you can show your daughter a thing or two? The apple might not far too fall from the tree. Happy Father’s Day.

Ren:*smiles* Don’t cry when I blow you out of the water. Loser pays for dinner.

Valerie:You’re on.

xxxx

Qrow quietly reads a book at the dining room table like usual during lunch time when suddenly, he feels eyes on him. He puts the book down to see Winter and Sparrow quietly sitting down at the table with their own books. The only difference is the fancy glasses have been placed by each of them, along with a bottle in Sparrows hand.

Qrow:Is that....?

Sparrow:A bottle of the most expensive rum, made only in Salem’s previous territory? Why yes it is.

Winter:The same rum that can only be acquired after slaying countless grimm. Now I know I typically discourage you from spirits and don’t drink myself, but Sparrow is twenty one and did all of this for you. I think that deserves a toast.

Sparrow:Happy Father’s Day pops. Cheers!

Qrow looked at two pour him a glass before raising there’s with excitement. Was getting to drink with him this exciting? He couldn’t help but feel flattered and raised his as well with renewed vigor. A drink with family, now that sounded pretty nice.

Qrow:Cheers!

xxxx

Breakfast was in the air at the Schnee Manor. It might’ve been his special day but that didn’t n make anybody suddenly a cooking genius so Jaune was flipping the pancakes like usual. Weiss and Summer were a little red with embarrassment as they shifted around in their Pumpkin Pete onesies he had gotten them years ago.

Jaune:You know you don’t have to wear those every year right?

Weiss:You can’t say that when you smile really big whenever you see us in it.

Summer:We’ll stop when you stop caring, so never.

Jaune:That’s a present all by itself.

Summer:Well prepare for two more. I got something for my number one fan and teacher.

Weiss went around the corner and pulled out a white and yellow electric guitar with his symbol on it. Jaune nearly flipped the pancake too high, he was actually shocked. If she bought that then it meant one thing...

Summer:Let’s go around performing for people and putting smiles on faces today. A father and daughter duet!

Jaune:If this is the first present then what could possibly be the second one?

Weiss:Months ago your kids helped raise some extra money for Argus and Vale. Now Remnant has two Pyrrha statues, both in beautiful condition.

Jaune could feel his heart swell up. Weiss walked over and turned off the burner while he processed that info. A smile came across his face as he hugged both of his lovely women tightly.

Summer:Happy Father’s Day. Nick-

Jaune:He told me earlier before he left. I’m proud of what he’s doing.

Weiss:Summer, why don’t you go wash up and get dressed so you’ll be ready to go after breakfast.

Summer:Sweet! I can take this off. Love you dad! *runs off*

Jaune:Today is a good day.

Weiss:It gets better. You actually have three presents.

Her face turns a brighter red as she grabs ahold of his, making him tug on the zipper slightly. Jaune nearly chokes on his own breath as he discovers Weiss is only wearing the onesie. He regains composer and teasingly makes her yelp by slipping his hand though.

Weiss:*crimson* Happy...Daddy’s Day...

Jaune:....*puts her on the counter*

Weiss:Jaune there is food out!

Jaune:I’ll make more...

xxxx

At there other estate, Nick warmly embraces Whitley while clutching gifts he didn’t even get the chance to give yet. The older man can only hug him tighter and hold some tears.

Whitley:This means more than you can imagine.

Nick:As far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been a second dad instead of an uncle. Happy Father’s Day.

[Premonition]

Lucas sat silently on the the Belladonna steps watching the crescent moon. The cool air making its way from the sea brushed passed his face and put the boy at ease. Moment’s later he heard approaching footsteps get louder before stopping next to him, his caring father took a seat.

Jaune:Waiting for Blake to get back from her meeting?

Lucas:Nah, I needed fresh air. You always get antsy whenever I step aside.

Jaune:It’s a miracle every time I can get you off the couch and into town. Let me guess, you knew I’d come to you if you walked outside.

Lucas:Yep, all part of my master play.

Jaune:To what?

Lucas:Tell you Happy Father’s Day. You know I’m not really good at this sort thing but... here.

He lifted up a small bag by his feet and gave it Jaune. The knight grabbed the bag and instantly let out a chuckle the moment he felt the box. He wasted no time pulling out the cereal box that honestly surprised him on closer expectation. Jaune Arc....was on the box, he was on the box!

Lucas:I may have told mom how crazy it was that a hero like yourself wasn’t on his favorite cereal box and got a good petition going around. Pretty cool huh?

Jaune:You...I...what!? Hell yeah it’s cool! Honestly I thought the plan was stargazing and that would’ve been fine.

Lucas:So why not both? Cereal and stargazing.

Jaune:I say...I’ll go grab the milk.

Lucas:I’ll get two bowls.

Blake:Make it three!

The two gentlemen looked down to see Blake walking up the steps. Jaune quickly walked down and gave her a thank you kiss.

Blake:I wouldn’t mind eating the “breakfast of champions” right now. Especially with that hero on the box.

Jaune:Aww you spoil me.

Lucas:Hehe, three bowls it is.

[Rosebud]

Jaune: That was dangerous!

Carmine:I know.

Jaune:You could’ve been killed!

Carmine:But I wasn’t!

The two have been liked this for hours. They had gone on a mission together where the point was to evacuate a village under attack. All lives successfully saved fortunately, but it was a close call.

In a lapse of judgement, Carmine had abandoned the her responsibilities to help Jaune with a Goliath that gave him trouble and she had gotten work hurt in the process. If it weren’t for his semblance, she’s sure her ribs would be broken right now.

Ruby had managed to calm them both down and split them up, Carmine opting to go outside. This should be the last day to be arguing. Jaune sat quietly at the table and watched Ruby get closer to hold his hand.

Jaune:She could’ve been killed...

Ruby:Yeah but from the sound of it, losing you today was possible as well. In either scenario, I would’ve been devastated.

Jaune:What’s a greater loss?

Ruby:Don’t even try to put that on a set of scales. Everyday we look at her and worry but I’m not gonna pretend Carmine and I don’t hold our breath when we see you endanger as well; don’t act like you don’t do it for me.

Jaune:...

Ruby:Sometimes our nerves get the better of us. We know that all of us can handle things but yet we find ourselves calling out to each other while rushing in. I don’t she’ll ever say it but... I’m sure she’s scared sometimes. She’s sixteen after all.

Jaune:Yeah, sometimes I forget that. She used to fit in my hands for crying out loud. Taking her on missions is still a little unnerving.

Ruby:Give her time. I’m sure-

The door opened and caught their attention. They hadn’t realized Carmine took Garnet outside too. The adorable four year old excitedly pointed outside. Ruby rushing over before he tired himself out.

Suddenly she alone started pointing and looked amazed. Jaune was left no choice but to take a look, he glad he did. The front yard was filled with white and yellow roses shaped in the Arc crest. Carmine was kneeling in middle of her work tired and with her sword stabbed in the ground.

Carmine:Do you remember...when you I asked you how to be a knight all those years ago?

Jaune:I do. I said, I said I wasn’t sure. That I never really thought of myself as a good example of one.

Carmine:I’ve thought about that a lot recently. You gave me such an unexpected answer. How could you not know when I’ve seen you been so kind. The way you fight for us, your loyalty to your family, empathy, wisdom, courage; I saw it all. Then I realized, maybe I was really asking how I could be more like you?

Jaune:...

Carmine:We’re different. Our thought process, opinions, etc. I’m beginning to think maybe I can never hold those qualities like you. Which really...frustrates me. Because dad, you are my ideal knight! I know I messed up and-

He walked towards her, unsheathing his sword on the way. Jaune stared at his visibly tired daughter. How often did he see this strong and capable fighter express her woes so freely? Ruby was right, he must’ve really scared her. Jaune lifted his sword and tapped it on each of her shoulders.

Jaune:Carmine...were you scared today? Of losing me?

Carmine:What kind of question is that?

Tears ran down her face. Jaune knelt down and captured her in a hug.

Jaune:I’m sorry...

Carmine:I’m sorry too. Dad I...I love you okay? So please, don’t scare me like that and I won’t scare you. Deal?

Jaune:It’s a deal. And don’t worry about being like me. I do what can do, so you can be like yourself. I know it’ll be just as great.

Ruby held Garnet close and watched two of the most stubborn people on her life hug it out. As far as she was concerned, they were both perfect, as knights or otherwise. They cared about each other. What could be more perfect than that.

[purplesurveys]

795

Where is your favorite place to get fries? Hmmm I really like the fries from Jollibee and Bonchon, if we’re talking about fries as a side. But we have a local place called Potato Corner that mainly sells fries and they make the besssssst ones; it’s my go-to snack when I go to the movies or if I just wanna chew on something while at the mall.

What is the most recent article of clothing you’ve purchased? Yellow and black tops with puffed sleeves since they were getting in style, at least before the quarantine.

Have you ever paid for anything with a check? Not my own, obviously; but my mom has given me checks to pay for mine and my sister’s tuition fees back in high school.

Do you know anyone who was raised by their grandparents? So many kids here in the Philippines. The usual situation is that parents would still be climbing the ranks while their kids are little so they’d be under the care of extended family, and for the most part it’s the grandparents who would assume the task. In my case, I was raised by my maternal grandparents and an aunt for my entire childhood.

Have you ever made your own pie from scratch? Yeah, in Grade 7 home economics when we had to. Never made pie on my own time/for leisure.

Who was the last person you had an in-depth conversation with? Gabie.

Are there any waterfalls nearby? I guess so. It’s on the other side of the city, but then again that’s only about 15 minutes away and I would say that’s nearby.

What was the last food item you ate? Lumpiang shanghai and rice.

What are your earliest memories of going to see a doctor? Going to the school doctor in my first year of kindergarten to have my eyes checked. I remember being asked to peer into a machine, but I don’t remember what I saw anymore.

Can you hear traffic right now? I could never hear traffic from where I live and for anyone also living in a gated village, this is always the case.

Have you ever pulled a muscle? I may have, but only once or twice.

What did you do last weekend? I hung out with my dog, last Saturday my dad bought a sushi platter to celebrate my thesis getting approved, and last Sunday I collected all of Kimi’s baby photos because I realized I hadn’t looked back on his old pictures for a while. Here’s one that we took when he was two :)

What is your favorite gaming console? The PS2 gave me many of my most cherished memories; and it had badass games, too.

Are you talking to anyone via instant messaging right now? Nope.

Have you kissed someone today? Not since March 7th, eugh.

What is your favorite condiment? Mayonnaise. 

Do you have a strong opinion for or against Justin Bieber? He has definitely said and done questionable things both in the past and present that keeps me from rallying behind him 100%, but honestly his music has gotten better over the years lol. My personal favorite is the entire Purpose album.

Have you used a telephone today? I only have to use the telephone when my grandma calls, and the last time I had to do this was when she called on my birthday.

Do you prefer coffee or tea? Cooooooffeeeeeeee. The only time I get to drink tea is if it’s a freebie at a hotel or restaurant, but I never buy it for myself.

Have you taken a painkiller today? Yeah. This morning my body gave me signs that let me know I was about to faint – super sweaty, tunnel vision, dizziness, stumbling – and even though I was able to handle it and end up conscious, my head was still being weird a couple of hours later so I drank a Biogesic pill to make it go away.

How many theaters does the closest movie theater from your house have? I honestly can’t remember. I tried checking their website but it shouldn’t be a surprise that they have no data on their cinemas right now.

Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? Only because my parents aren’t big drinkers and they drink like, every six months. The stock of alcohol we’ve constantly had are ones they bought from way way back and they just haven’t consumed. I would drink them myself, but it’s all beer or wine so no thanks.

Have you ever had a pumpkin latte and if so, did you like it? No, not a thing here. Starbucks did bring it here for a short time last Octoberish? but it was always sold out whenever I’d try to order it, and eventually I just stopped trying.

Have you had a nap today? I took a nap all afternoon so I’ll probably be up very late tonight.

Is there an antique store in your town or city? I’m not ruling it out. If there is, I haven’t heard of it yet.

Have you ever been to a baby shower? Again, not a thing here. It’s such a first world thing hahaha. I do think my generation is gonna be the first one to make baby showers a thing though.

Do you have a hyphenated name or know anyone with one? (eg. Carter-Brown) I don’t have one. I know several people.

What would you wear if you were being taken out to dinner tonight? I’d assume the dinner would take place at home, so I’ll wear a simple dress.

What were the last shoes you wore? A pair of Nikes.

Do you know anyone who has been to rehab? I...don’t think so.

Have you ever had a mojito? I’ve had a sip or two, but I’ve never ordered it for myself.

Do you take your Christmas decorations down before or after New Years? End of January. The Christmas season in the Philippines doesn’t end until then.

What is the first thing you do when you get online? I go on my Facebook to check if I got any notifications while asleep. 

How many romantic relationships have you been in so far? Technically two, but they’ve been with the same person.

Have you ever been camping in the wilderness? I have not been camping, period.

Do you have any money on you right now? I have my last ₱1000 bill in my wallet. I used to have ₱2500++ but my dad has kept borrowing my money throughout quarantine and now I’m down to my last bill. I honestly can’t complain about it though, it’s not like I can use the money any time soon, plus my allowance is his hard-earned money to begin with.

Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? Only if it comes to fruits or any grandma food like raisins, dates, fruitcake, food for the gods, etc. I dunno if those are food universally loved by grandmas but those are definitely what my lola loves, hence me classifying them as grandma food to make it easier lol.

Have you made a large purchase today? Not since Christmas.

What was the last candy you ate? Does Fererro Rocher count as candy? :/ I had one two or three weeks ago.

How often do you eat Subway? Once every two years, tops. It’s not my restaurant of choice and I only ever ate there when I would drive Gabie to her school extra early, and it’s the only place that would be open at 6:30 AM.

Have you ever lived in a house with a pool in the yard? I have not.

What color is your toothbrush? Maroon and white.

Do you have gluten intolerance or anyone who does? No and no.

Have you ever cried while watching a movie? For sure.

First thing that catches your eye when you look out the nearest window? The curtains covering the window.

Have you ever had a migraine? Occasionally. It only happens when I’m extremely stressed or if I don’t realize that I’ve been pushing myself too hard, which doesn’t happen a lot.

Do you have a gym membership? No.

Have you locked your front door today? Yep.

Have you ever slept in a car overnight? Yes. The thing about my mom is that she doesn’t let me stay out criminally late if I plan to go home, but by some weird reasoning on her end, I can stay out criminally late if I say I’ll be sleeping over at someone else’s which to me has always been like ??????? LMAO so anyway, that’s always been my story if I have plans to drink out, party, etc – that I’ll be sleeping over at a friend’s. But the truth is I don’t always have a friend that I can sleep over with, so for nights like those I have to sleep in the car.

Have you washed the dishes today? Just my own.

Have you ever fainted? I’ve only been extremely close to fainting, to the point where people have to carry me because my legs are jelly. But I haven’t lost consciousness.

Have you been awake before sunrise today? No. I’ve been waking up quite late during quarantine.

When was the last time you went to the bank? I’ve never had to go to the bank. If I do, it’s just to accompany my mom who will sometimes withdraw money while we’re out.

Do you avoid conflict as much as possible? Yes.

Have you ever used a leaf blower? We don’t even have one of those. We have someone in the village who gets paid to use one.

[mythologymonsterlover]

Male! Satyr lover

This story takes place in Greece and is pretty much a short sexy story. With that said, hope you enjoy~

warning: sexual content, little swearing 

female reader X male monster

The sun come out among the horizon, making the sunflowers follow its gaze. Standing there looking around the surrounding, I taking in the beauty. It’s been awhile since the sun came out. The cold winter was vigorous this year, and the sun shining now feels like a blessing. Since my family owns a farm, we need our crops since it’s our only source of income. We have to be able to sell them in the village no matter what, or we go hungry and homeless. The farm has been dead all this time, so now would be a good time for it to perk up again. We weren’t always on edge about being stocked, but since the Trojan War ended in Greece, it affected the people with it’s distraction and death. The economy needs help, so many farmers need to provide for the rehabilitation around the country. It been my job as well to go into the fields to plant our fruit and vegetables. Thinking today would be a great day to so, I get excited.

“Father, I’m leaving!” I yell into the house, letting him and mother know I’ll be going. Father nods his head, and mom waves while cooking her stew. When I look at father in the old house relaxing, I often find it amusing. He built our home twenty years ago, but it still looks brand new. Father told me once that Zeus himself had walked into the house to bless it. I find it hard to believe, but it is still standing, so their must be some truth in his words. He also told me Zeus gave me to them because I was tough working as any man was in the field. He said it over the years because I had boys make fun of me for being stronger. Yet, I do remember one boy in particular who never did. He always seemed shy to approach me, and I caught him staring at me more than once. I never knew why, but I didn’t care to know either. He lived only a couple of houses next door, but I haven’t seen him in years. Thinking of him sometimes makes me think of the forest for some reason. His name was Kal, and he had night sky hair, green leaf eyes, and was a scrawny but cute looking kid.

He starts to slip from my personal thoughts though, as I feel the wet mud on my bare feet. Just being on the field makes me forget all things in general, which is a custom of sorts. I know it’s odd, but ever since I was little I felt more connected with nature then with any of the villagers. Being able to put seeds into the earth, and one day pull out food seemed more interesting than talking to a stranger. I worked my butt off for half of the day as usual, and when it’s was around noon I decide to have a break. I would eat by now, but instead of heading to the house, I went into the woods beyond the fields. I walk past the tree lines, and around the area aimlessly until I found an apple tree. I walked up to get a better look at it, noticing it on a hilltop. It looks lonely and lovely at the same time, and with the blue sky in the background it’s bold among the forest. I put my hand on the trunk, seeing that it’s blossom are white flowers. Captivated, I lay down beside the tree to watch it sway in the wind. I should rest my feet as well, I think happily. Just laying there in the sun, my eyelids start to shut, and my body tells me It’s a perfect time for a nap. So peacefully, I let myself fall into a dark world of slumber.

…

Feeling my body regain consciousness, I notice that the air around me feels much colder. shivering and opening my eyes, the first thing I see is darkness. Oh no. I gasp in horror to get up and look at the night sky. Just from seeing the stars greet me, I know instantly that I slept for too long. Feeling dread of what father going to say to me, I worryingly know that this is my fault. I walk down from the hill and apple tree, noticing my surroundings look unfamiliar now.

“Dammit..”

I look around to see if I can find where I came from, knowing I come from the east at least. I walk towards that direction for awhile, and began to regain some hope. Sadly it dies as I see the apple tree again. Shocked and confused now, I wonder how I could have ended up back here. Gods, why are you doing this to me? I start to feel hopeless as I walk back up the hill to sit down. I’m scared out of my mind, and the only thing I can think of to do is cry. Putting my hands to my face, I let some of my tears fall as I sit there quietly weeping.

“Hello?” I hear a man’s voice say, and I instantly get up. I hear than a branch break. Crunch. It’s getting closer.

“Who’s there?” I stammer, feeling my legs turn into mush but arm ready to swing. Crunch. I hear the noise again, and only about five feet away, I see a figure emerge behind a bush with a lantern. I gulp down my nerves, and stand my ground to get ready to attack. “If you want a fight, come out now!” I yell, and the figure stumble back a bit. Yet, he slowly come out of the bush and I can see him fully…

“I don’t want to fight ma’am.” He says with a calm voice, and I’m taken aback by his appearance. On the top of his head, I see two horns. Not just that, but because of the light I also notice he has no legs...but hooves. He steps towards me slowly, and I flinch when he closes the space between us. I wanted to run away, but something about the look he gave me said he really didn’t mean harm. I look into his face and I’m taken aback to see it looks so familiar.

“Kal..?” I say shakily, notice so much between the boy I knew when we were young to now. The difference between his appearance now from then is the horns and fur around his legs. Yet also, his face is no longer cute, but incredibly handsome. He steps closer, and he seems to be a foot taller than me and no longer has a weak body, but a strong built one. He blinks a couple times, seemingly taken aback by what I said. He seems to recognize me as well though.

“It’s..you.” He says while reaching out his hand to touch me, but frantically pulls it away. He clears his voice, and once again looks me straight in the eyes.

“What are you doing out here? By gods, so last too!” He says in disbelief, looking around him. I just shake my head, knowing his right.

“I fell asleep..I don’t wake up until a few minutes ago.”

He stares at me concerningly, but turns with his light in hand to look around. He then points to a path that I didn’t notice until now, that the light could only show.

“If you go down that path, you will be able to walk back to your farm.” He then turns to and hold his hand out.

“Come, I will walk you back home.”

Before I could even answer, he grabs it for me and we begins to walk down to the path. I feel flustered, as too much is happening right now for me to comprehend. I push away my shyness though and speak up.

“Kal..is that really you?” I mummer, hoping that he heard me. He doesn’t say anything but nods his head.

“I didn’t know you were a, umm...” I trail off, and this time he actually turns around to look at me.

“You didn’t know I was a Satyr.” Kal says plainly. feeling awkward I just nod to affirm it, not wanting to say anything stupid. He turn his head though to face me, and gives off a lusty smirk that makes me melt. Feeling caught off guard I duck my head, but he stops in his tracks to keep his gaze on me.

“Why are you avoiding my eyes?” he says while having a smug smirk on his face, as though his teasing me now. I huff, not in the mood to be played with, and let go of his hand. I could keep walking forward without him. Really, he knows I can defend for myself. Yet, I hear his footsteps keep up with my pace, but I refused to turn around to look. Soon, we see my house among the fields which makes me feel so relieved.

“There she is.” Kal says, coming up to brush against my shoulder. Feeling bad for being kinda rude to him, I decided I should at least say thank you. I turn to him ready to speak, but his eyes hold onto my mine which makes me choked up again. Oh my gods, why does he have to look at me? It’s so nerve-racking. Pushing myself to at least reach out to grab his hand would make this less difficult I thought. When I do grab onto it, he seemed stunned.

“Thanks.” Is the only thing I say while shake his hand, and before he could say anything back I run off across the field. As I walked into my house, like I thought, father and mother were pretty upset with me. Dad gave me a lecture about how foolish it was to take a nap outside, and that I was lucky no man came by to take me. I decided to not tell him about Kal at that moment, since I didn't want him to freak out about that. My mother on the other hand was less angry but more grateful that I was alright. She told me however, if I didn’t come back by twelve every day from now on, she would get the village men to come get me. I assured them both that I won’t do that again, and went off to bed. The sun came out to greet the fields again, as well as bringing vegetables and fruits to grow. 

After ten days past from the incident, I kept thinking about Kal and how he changed. I didn’t expect to see him ever again, but I knew he was in the forest somewhere. As I came out a little later than usual to tend to the crops, I saw in the mud fresh hoofs prints. I thought it could have been a deer or something, but it was made my something two legged. Knowing who already made them, I follow the trail up to the treeline where I find Kal sleeping. His leaning against a log, while arms are crossed over on his chest. I look at him studying his frame, curious since I never saw a satyr before, but heard much about them. I didn’t recall him being one when we were younger, but he must have been disguise to look human. He fit the qualities of one of those creatures, but I always thought they were supposed to be hairier. I lean in close to tower over his body, noticing his green shirt and necklace he was wearing last time as well. They look planing, but they have something about them that makes Kal look very wild. The shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his defined abs and chiseled chest. I bite my lip feeling weak in the legs as I admire his beauty, almost as if I’m not worthy enough to look at him. Not really thinking I involuntary move my hand to his face, while placing a kiss to his cheek. I planted my lips for only a couple of seconds, until I feel strong arms drag me down on top of him. Looking up into his eyes startled, I feel his grip holding me tightly so I don’t try to run away.

“My, I didn’t expected to be woken up so nicely.” Kal smiles, and moves to place my hand on his face again. He hold me like that while closing his eyes, almost like his treaturing this moment. I feel beyond red faced as I lay their against his chest, hearing his heartbeat against my ear. I move up to look at him, trying to form an excuse.

“I didn't mean to do that, I was just curious!” I spate, trying to get out of this situation. He seemed very amused by the answer, as he leaned forward a few Inches from my face. I can feel his breath on my neck, and it makes me shudder.

“What are you curious about?” He murmured. Kal then places his lip ever so closer to my neck, and put his hands into my hair. He holds my head, so I can’t turn away from his lips. I shudder a breath as I feel him place his lip onto my neck, kissing it tenderly.

“Kal, wait a minute...” I moan, and he moves from my neck living a vivid mark.

“Do you want me to stop?” he says, letting go of my head. I swallow, while shaking my head and placing my hands on his chest.

“I just don't know why you would want me.” I say holding back tears, and I hear him chuckle as he places his hands onto my hips.

“I wanted you ever since I first saw you. Didn’t you ever realize that?” He whispers, and I can’t help but to passionately place my lips onto his. He kisses back happily, moving his hand up my dress. I never felt more attracted to someone, and if his doing this to me, I’m more in love then ever. I just want him, badly and heatedly now. He rubs my inner thigh with his thumb, but soon places his finger up to my folds. He doesn't move it until I rub against him, bagging him to do so. I moan loudly into his elf-shaped ear when he moves his finger inside my wetness. I can’t stand being the only one, so I put my hand onto his crotch. He moans as his dick emerges out of his furred area, and my hands rub him up and down until his moaning just as loudly.

“Do you want me?” He mummers into my ear, and I grunt as I feel his fingers move inside me.

“Y-yes..” I stammer, letting myself pull away from him as he takes off my dress. He seems pleased by what he sees, as he runs his fingers down my body with eyes half closed. I remove his shirt from his body, and when I do, I can see his muscles in the forest light. They are shaped so perfectly, they almost looked sculpted. I run my fingers down his chest all the way to his dick. Its all pink, and when I stroke it, a little more precum starts to spill out. He moans not being able to handle it anymore, and puts my hands above my head.

“Sorry, I might be a little rough..” He says huskily, and he rubs himself against my pussy until his dick is glossed over with my cream. I grab onto his back to move him all the way in, and he gasps as he enters deep inside me. Shuddering, he begins to thrust in and out at a slow pace. I was ready for him to be rough, so I smack his ass. He yelps, looking down at me with confusion.

“I thought you said you were gonna be rough?” I say innocently, running my hands over my body and resting them on my breast. He smirks and leans down to kiss my lips, while resting his hand on my stomach.

“I will, be patient my angel.” He leans back a little to get a look at me again, and before I know it he begins to thrust into me again. His doing it harder, and I scratch his back as I begin to feel myself cumming at this pace. It feels so good, my legs start to shake. Kal keeps ramming into me, and holding my legs up into the air, he moves his thumb against my G-spot. He rubs it until I can't hold it back any longer, and I release the building heat within my body. He keeps pounding in me though, as my already worn out body feels the shock each time he thrust into me. His voice hitches then as he pulls out his dick, and cums all over my stomach. He rest his cock their panting, regaining himself until he snuggles up beside me. I curl next to his side, putting my hand on his chest. We stay silent, watching the blue sky and rolling clouds pass us one by one.

“I love you.” Kal mummers with eyes closed. He places his head onto my chest, and soon falls asleep, while I stay awake. I look at him as I stroke his head and beautiful face. I close my eyes as well, but not before saying,

 “I love you too.”

[juliaaguilar]

BEWITCHING YNGRID (Short Story)

It was Sunday morning. The sun is shining bright and the breeze blowing from west of Village Tazmania is making the branches and leaves of the old trees in the forest dance.

It was a typical weather but it wasn't a typical Sunday morning for the Tazmanians. Today is the day where the people commemorate an event called The memorial.

Everyone within the village would come to the forest to witness the rituals and prayers done by the Chief for the souls that was taken by the cursed gate.

"Hurry up!"

Yngrid rolled her eyes at her mother's remark. She has been attending this event for her 19 years of existence and she's convinced that no matter what happens, even if she's pulled towards the gate, the memorial, is still a waste of time.

She believed that the people that the cursed gate took wasn't dead at all. Private officials in their village worked overtime and conducted a very thorough investigation due to the number of people missing, though every investigation directed all to one suspect, the cursed gate, no bodies were found.

Yngrid can read minds, as it was the special power that the Tazmanians possessed. But it was no use. Everyone believed that if you were chosen by the cursed gate, your time is up.

"All kneel..." the Chief said.

Everyone followed except Yngrid.

She kept a distance within the Tazmanian crowd who are now kneeling in front of the memorial plaque. The Chief started to murmur prayers she'd never understand no matter how hard she tried to.

Lies. She said in her mind.

Just then the memorial plaque started glowing in a shade of deep red. The cursed gates opened slowly and was followed with a blinding light. Everyone let out a gasp as it was a bad sign.

Yngrid's jaw dropped. What now? Did I anger the cursed gate with my thoughts? Is someone gonna die just to prove me wrong? She screamed in her head.

Just when she was about to take a step, her eyes widened when she saw her mother going near the gate. She didn't bother to take another step, instead she ran.

She might not always show affection towards her mother but she couldn't live without her. That's one thing she's sure of.

"Mother!"  Yngrid yelled as she was about to close the gap between her and the gate.

She was about to pull her mother away from the cursed gate when she saw that her mother was the one controlling it. A black smoke was coming out of her mother’s bare hands.

Emotions dwelled within her heart. Rage, disapointment, she couldn't name it all. But at least she proved that all the stories circulating within the village we're all fabricated.

"Explain it to me." Yngrid demanded to her mother after the event.

"I will. At home. I promise."

"No."

"Yngrid..." her mother pleaded.

She looked at her in the eye, entering the mind of her mother to read her thoughts to give answers to her questions but she couldn't get in.

"Stop trying to read my mind."

She heard enough excuses. Mind in a haywire she walked away from the forest. Not in the direction of their house, not in the direction of the cursed gate. She doesn't know where she's going but she's determined to stay away from her mom, for now.

If there's one thing she dislikes the most it would be liars. She's a firm believer of the saying 'it is better to hurt people with the truth than comfort them with lies'. So if no one's gonna tell her what's going on, she'll tell herself.

Monday morning came and the sun is still shinning, the breeze is cold and strong, the usual weather in Village Tazmania.

Yngrid decided to spend the night in the house of her childhood friend, Jiro. They watched movies, ate popcorn, laughed at each other's funny stories that made Yngrid forget about what happened.

"Yngrid!" her mom's voice echoed when she reached their house.

She rolled her eyes yet again. Is she really worried or was this concern a lie as well? She thought.

"I am truly concerned! You are my daughter!" her mother exclaimed.

Yngrid immediately formed a cloud on her mind to block her mother from reading her thoughts. She felt violated. She always felt.

"Are you not gonna talk to me?"

She didn't answer her mother. If you're not gonna tell me the truth, we're not talking.

Yngrid felt horrible. With all the thoughts lingering in her mind that was dominated by negative thoughts, she ignored her surroundings.

She unknowingly grabbed a mug and a brewed coffee. Why am I seeing all these? Why do we have this ability? Am I really human?

"Sit down. I'll tell you everything." her mother gave up.

Yngrid hesistated. Sure. Her mother's now willing to tell her everything, but that does not guarantee that whatever she's going to say is true. Is she willing to take the risk? Of course. I could easily tell if she's lying to me anyways. She thought.

Her mother, Oona, gestured to the dining chair in front of her. Yngrid followed without muttering a single word. Both of them wanted answers. Her mother wanted to know if her daughter's gonna believe her, and Yngrid followed without muttering a single word. Both of them wanted answers. Her mother wanted to know if her daughter's gonna believe her, and Yngrid wanted to know the truth.

"First of, we are humans," her mother started. "But we have a special ability that most humans do not have. We are special. And in order to protect us from people who wanted to take advantage of our powers, the Chief ordered for us to stay within the forest.  In our village."

Yngrid multi tasked. She was listening and observing at the same time. But as what she noticed, there are no errors yet. Everything that her mother just said is possible so it might be true.

"But staying here isn't free. We must protect the forest from harm with all our might. That is the deal," "Though the disapperances of our people and the cursed gate... those we're not lies. So I hope you trust me by then, I will not do anything that can harm you. Its only the two of us now..." she offered her hand

Yngrid accepted her mother's hand. For a moment she actually felt safe despite all the weird things she's not yet used to see. Her mother, Oona, was right. Its only the two of them now.

"Good morning!"

Calla, Yngrid's bestfriend, peeked from the living room wearing her usual cheeky smile. Yngrid greeted her back and returned the warm smile before finishing her coffee.

"Good morning. Breakfast?" Oona offered.

Calla shook her head. "I just had breakfast. Thank you, ma'am," she then looked at Yngrid. "Let's go for a stroll?"

Yngrid looked at her mother for approval. Her mother replied with a smile that was equivalent to a yes. So she didn't waste her time and went upstairs to change.

It was said that the Chief required all women to wear dresses, they may have an occasion or not so it wasn't that much of a big deal towards the ladies. But wearing any red colored clothing is strictly prohibited since it was believed in the village that the color red attracts bad luck.

Yngrid changed in to a plain white ruffle sleeve dress and a white flats. Her brown hair done in natural low curls.

"I was wondering if I can sell these metal pins I've collected during the memorial... I hope they cost a fortune." Calla said as she was showing the pins to Yngrid.

They are on their way to the market. The Village Tazmania was huge but in order to get through every places within it, a person shall pass the forest where the cursed gate is located.

As they were about to pass, a bolt of blinding light flickered. Both women covered their eyes due to the blinding light. But Calla's screams started to zone out and Yngrid knew theres something wrong.

She opened her eyes and saw that Calla was being pulled towards the cursed gate with an invisible force. She was about to chase her but it was to late as her friend was swallowed whole by the light.

The light disappeared and everything went back to normal except Yngrid. She was scared... for once.

So it is real... She thought, as nervousness started eating her up. She has two options in the moment. First, to go near the gate, follow Calla, and face what's within there, or to ask help from the Chief.

She knew the better choice was the latter. Going after her friend wasn't a good idea for it will result to another disappearances. How will she save her friend, if she doesn't know what to do if she's in there? More so, will she able to win the fight if something really in there? Will she able to get out or will she be one of the people who went missing?

Yngrid knew better. She immediately called the attention of the Chief through her mother and before everyone knew it, a memorial was held.

She felt horrible. Yngrid disliked attending this event since time immemorial but she is now to pray for the soul of her lost friend Calla.

Her mother, Oona, looked at her worriedly. She knew. She knew that this disapperance will push Yngrid to find answers and seek what's with the curse so she must stop her daughter from getting herself killed.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" her mother asked worriedly.

Yngrid couldn't even speak. She was shocked, to put it lightly. But what she feels is more than that. She was afraid.

It was past twelve midnight and Yngrid was just there, lying in her bed, eyes wide open. She shifted to the right side of her bed and saw a picture of herself together with Calla, there were actually three of them.

And without thinking twice, she knew it was a sign. She's going after her friend.

Yngrid tiptoed her way downstairs in order to keep her mother from waking up because she knew her mother would disagree with her decision, aside from that, it was last thing she wants her mother to know. Her mother would consider this heroic act a suicide.

She held the doorknob, gently twisted it but the door wasn't budging. She tried doing the same exact thing for a few minutes but nothing happened. Mother must've locked the door from outside.

She thought.

If the front door was locked, then the back door must be as well. I have nowhere to get out. The window from my bedroom is my only choice.

She then climbed back to her bedroom, tying a thick blanket on his bed, and the other end on her waist, Yngrid took the window and landed on the ground with a low thud. She stayed still for a moment, waiting to see if her mother had notice but she didn't so Yngrid followed the way to the cursed gate.

When she arrived, she was trembling with fear. All she can recall were the stories from the elders saying, "whoever dares to come near the cursed gate, will become a hideous monster and cannot return to the village... forever" but thoughts of Calla asking for help started appearing from her thoughts.

She took a step towards the cursed gate. Little by little she is starting to get real close to it. For the first time seeing the cursed gate this close, she noticed that there were words carved on top of the gate but she refused to utter those, she don't want to get herself hurt, she must find Calla first.

"Shit." Yngrid muttered.

Just then she heard the sound of unlocking followed by the opening of its gates, like what happened earlier, a blinding light followed. She took another step towards it, until the light was able to reach her. Then it drag her to God knows where.

Yngrid landed on her knees with her eyes shut. She was still shaking and she didn't want to open her eyes, thinking she did turn into a hideous beast. She stayed still for a moment until she heard a loud beep.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

She opened her eyes and was greeted yet again by another blinding light, but this time, it was bearable.

Gently she managed to pull herself together and presented herself to the man infront of her. Behind him is a black machine with four wheels, and two lights that seemed to form like its eyes, a rectangular shaped metal that look like its mouth!

"Is that a monster?!" Yngrid exclaimed.

The man was confused. "A monster?" he looked at behind him and pointed to the black machine. "This is my car. Is it your first time seeing this?"

The man glanced at Yngrid and noticed that she doesn't look like she belongs to the place. Her dress doesn't match with his expensive watch and branded black suit and slacks.

"Where am-m... I?" she stuttered, covering half of her mouth in fear.

She looked over to the left side of the road and saw a glass built shop so she closed the small distance between them to look at her reflection.

Upon seeing that she still has both eyes, complete set of teeth, arms, legs, and she didn't look like one of the monsters she imagined, she heaved a sigh of relief. Liars. She silently cursed the elders who once told her those stories.

"Miss...?" the man called.

"I'm looking for a girl named Calla. She's two inch shorter than me, brown haired, and she's very fair, she's wearing--"

"There are a lot of ladies like that here in New York. If you want I can take you to the cops. You look like you're lost."

Her forehead creased. "New... York?"

Before the man could answer, someone from behind held her wrist and yanked her away from the busy streets. The person holding her is wearing a red cloak and is walking so fast so she couldn't catch up and take a look at its face.

"Let go of me!" Yngrid continued to pull her arm from the grasp of the stranger.

But it only caused her more fear when the stranger pulled her into a one dark alley that was dumped with garbage and left overs.

The stranger stopped walking and turned around to face her. Yngrid stopped breathing for a moment, that machine wasn't a monster so it must be this person! I can't die yet!

"C-Calla?" Yngrid muttered when she saw who it was. Calla closed the gap to give her friend a very tight hug which Yngrid returned.

"You know what? You're actually right! The stories we're all lies. And all the people who got lost weren't really dead. They get transported here."

Yngrid's brows met at her friend's statement. Still dizzy from what happened earlier, she tried to squint her eyes and tried to process the information but to no avail, it seems like her brain is malfunctioning.

If it’s true that they're not dead, where are they now? Why didn't they return to the village? Most importantly, what's this place?

"Transported?" Yngrid asked.

Calla only shrugged. "I'm not the one that should be telling you this."

"Then who?"

"It’s the detective."

Yngrid got more confused. What the freak is a detective? Is that a thing? She squinted yet again as her headache started getting worse.

Calla noticed the discomfort on Yngrid's face, realizing that she's having a headache just like her when she arrived at the same place.

"Come with me. She can answer all your questions, I promise." Calla showed her small finger.

She held Yngrid's arm, put back the cloak on to cover her face and headed towards the old abandoned road, a bit far from the main road of the city center.

Yngrid slowly recovering from her throbbing head, took a glance on Calla as she walk fast infront of her, gripping her wrist and pulling her to God knows who.

"Why are you wearing a cloak?" Yngrid managed to ask.

She waited for an answer but Calla remained silent throughout the journey. When they reached the end of the road, there stood a modern designed house with a white and blue furnishing, there is a space at the right side of the house and a monster called 'car' on idle.

Calla opened the gates in a haste, she didn't even bother to knock as she directly opened the front door of the house.

Unlike the houses back in the village where the houses were furnished in dark and gloomy colors. The colors of the house furnishing inside were light, the furnitures were covered in a shade of light black but it contemplated the whole place.

"Detective?" Calla called.

From the kitchen, a silhouette of a woman appeared. As she stepped into the light, Yngrid managed to study her facial features.

Dress in a slightly loose red slacks, and a white shoulder length puffy dress, holding a newspaper, the 'Detective' looked quite intimidating, especially with the specs she's wearing.

"She's here!" Calla exclaimed.

Yngrid yet again looked confused. She's here? Were they waiting for me? Do they know I'm coming? What's going on?

"You look so confused, dear. I'm sure you have a lot of questions in your mind?" the woman's voice was soft but scary.

"I-I do have several questions..." Yngrid answered politely.

"Very well..." the woman motioned to Yngrid to go and follow her.

Yngrid hesistated. For the past minutes, a lot of crazy things have been happening and that's all because of that goddamn cursed gate. I cannot trust anybody, I don't even know where I am! I might die if I let my guards down! She thought.

She looked over to Calla to ask help but Calla nodded and motioned to actually follow the woman!

Yngrid had no choice.

The woman led her to the basement where everything is almost non visible, it was so dark that Yngrid could hurt herself because she cannot see anything.

The woman noticed her trembling hands so she turned to the switch for the lights. Yngrid felt relieved. At least if there was something waiting for her at the end of the staircase, she'll see it.

Amidst the negative thoughts, there were no monsters on the basement but there were a lot of papers and a bulletin board that has a red yarn connecting the pictures of people to a one certain place.

"Missing?" Yngrid muttered.

She took a look at the pictures of the people with a "MISSING" quote on top and realized that it was the villagers that was left in Village Tazmania!

She felt shivers ran down her spine when she saw the recent pictures that were posted. It was Calla's... and hers?

"Correct. That's you." the woman said.

Yngrid turned to her as a response. She couldn't say anything but at least her tears were enough to show what she's feeling.

"I'm Detective Marta Chu. I have been investigating about the suspicious disappearance of people for 15 years now."

"How is this me?" Yngrid asked looking at the picture of a four year old little girl.

The woman took a pile of papers from the desk and placed it infront of Yngrid. "You and your parents were in a cruise ship fifteen years ago, during the trip, the cruise ship came across a strong storm that wiped the cruise ship apart. Luckily, your parents survived, they were rescued by the coast guards, but you..."

Yngrid waited for the woman to finish her statement. She's yet again being told a story and she already promised herself that she won't be getting fooled over false stories but it just feels too real for her. For the first time in her nineteen years of existence, this story felt true.

You were not there. The coast guards ask for the cooperation of the high ranking officials and police officers just like what your parents instructed. They were eager to find you," she started. "The search lasted for two years. I thought they won’t get tired of looking for you since you were the unica hija..."

Yngrid sniffed. "Am I dead?"

"That's what we thought. But then this," she used a red marker to encircle a place named, 'Bermuda Triangle.' "This place was rumored to be a black whole or a dimension due to the disappearances over the years. The cruise ship rerouted and sailed the wrong way due to the storm."

"As mentioned by survivors, just like her," she pointed to Calla. "You were trapped in a village in the middle of the forest which can be found under the deep deep sea of the Bermuda Triangle. If you believe to have seen people who uses powers, or magical stuff then there's only one thing that I'm sure of."

The woman came closer. "What's your name?"

"Y-Yngrid..." She sniffed again.

   "Yngrid.... You're bewitched."

  I blinked a few times and stretched my arms. I pushed my glasses up by my index finger as I continued to stare at the monitor of my computer.

Word count: 3,660 words.

"Hey, Yna! I heard you just finished writing the draft of your short story. You need to proofread and post it asap because it’s due tomorrow.." my classmate, Jessica said.

"Uh yes..." I replied.

"So what's the title? Can I sneak a peek?"

I nodded as she moved closer to my chair. I have been trying to come up with a good short story for a specialized subject in my strand, and I hope that my teacher is satisfied about my work!

I smiled as I typed in the title of my short story before pressing post.

 TITLE: BEWITCHING YNGRID.

[keepseaveyweird]

I Guess I Just Feel Like~ C.B

Word count: 2804

A/N: Not gonna lie, I think this may be my best one so far ;) I was inspired by John Mayer’s new song I Guess I Just Feel like so if you wanna feel all the good vibes and feel sad at the same time, go listen to it it’s super good! Please tell me what you like/ didn’t like, I really wanna improve as a writer cause I’m still new at the whole creative writing thing. I can bust out a 10 page argumentative essay like no other but I struggle when it comes to this stuff lol. But I’d love feedback! love you guys <3

The road was steep, so steep in fact that she could hear her car struggling every now and then to gun it. The Hollywood hills were a bitch, made for the famous who could afford cars good enough to get to their house, not for her hand-me-down Civic that was bound to explode at any given time. But she made it. And at the top, she found his car empty in a park and him not far away, perched on a picnic bench with his guitar and his back to her. Parking next to him and watching him for a few moments put her into a trance, because he was so in his in own element, so Corbyn; something she hadn’t witnessed in what felt like a lifetime. The way he strummed and moved his fingers up and down the neck of the guitar, the way he would close his eyes and bob his head when he got really into whatever it was he was playing. The way he’d take a moment every couple minutes to stop, look up and appreciate the view. The way she could just tell that his mind was running a million miles an hour, and nothing in the world could stop it.

So she didn’t, she sat behind the wheel, music quietly playing over the speakers and watched him. She watched and watched and waited for Corbyn’s head to stop spinning so much, because she knew there was a lot up there, knew that he didn’t like to talk about his thoughts. But he was strong and he could conquer anything, but she wasn’t quite sure, with how he had been acting, if he could push through this one.

Suddenly, Corbyn laid his guitar beside him on the picnic table and placed his elbows and his knees, his face in his palms as he continued to think. She exited the car and slowly made her way to the bench.

It was spring and the air was chillier than usual and the trees, bushes and flowers were in full bloom. Birds chirped and people rode by on bikes and skateboards and walked their dogs or were taking their kids home from the playground that was just a short stroll away. The area around them was loud, but the problem was Corbyn’s silence was even louder, because he was never silent. He joked and he sang and he would dance along with his band mates and sing along with her in the car, he was constantly uploading Instagram stories and Tweeting, responding to fans and loving life. And she wasn’t really sure when that all changed.

She approached Corbyn, though still behind him, he could tell she was there, could feel her whenever she was around. He could feel her concern and her worries and her heartache, because she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what was going on and it was a first for the both of them. Because the two had been friends since diapers and they shared everything, and when friendship turned into more after high school graduation, there was no way in hell anyone could have been closer than Corbyn and her were. They were one, Corbyn and y/n, y/n and Corbyn. Always associated with one another, always a package deal. 

“I’m sorry,” He told her, not turning around. He continued to look out past the hills and at the city. The sun was beginning to set and golden hour was in full force. The skyscrapers gleamed against the sunshine and the lights on Santa Monica Pier were on, and beginning to sparkle just a bit to show the craziness that would presume once the sun had hidden itself behind the horizon.

She found a spot next to him, his guitar in the middle, “you don’t need to be sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for,” she told him, staring out into Los Angeles with him.

The silence remained until the sun had fallen behind the skyscrapers and the sky began to look more like cotton candy with every second.

“Do you ever miss home?” Corbyn asked her, glancing away from the city and to her.

“Yeah, every now and then. Sometimes I wish my mom was with me to help do the dishes, or that dad was here to repair my car. But I also know that I have a home here, that home being you,” she said, a small smile on her face as she stared down to her worn out sandals.

He chuckled a bit, diving back into his own thoughts, “funny how that turned out isn’t,” he said, mostly to himself, returning his attention back to the skyline.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean I’m never even home. I’m always on tour or in the studio or filming something with the boys. You moved out here to be with me, and I feel like I barely see you and I’m sorry.” He told her, putting his head down a bit.

“Corbyn you have nothing to be sorry for, I knew what I was getting into, I knew you were going to be gone. I knew because I knew you could make it, could see the talent in you and the boys and wanted to be physically here to support you.” She told him, a hand on his thigh.

“I know, I know and I love you for that. Really y/n I do.” He said, “I don’t know I guess I just got a lot on my mind.”

“Then talk to me.” And with that, she could see his head go back into overdrive, finding the words that he needed to express how he feels. A couple minutes go by and by then, the sky was a deep fiery orange with white wisps of clouds.

“I just don’t feel like myself. Like I’m lying to everyone, well not lying, but that’s basically what it is. I feel like I can’t be myself because I have to worry about what the press will say or what my manager wants or I can’t cuss in interviews or when I meet a fan ‘cause my publicist says it’s bad publicity. I feel like I’m two different people and my alter ego just comes out when the cameras turn on. And I’m kind of tired you know? Thinking about every move you make and every word you say is exhausting, and sometimes I just want to run back home to my mom who will tell me I did good and just go to college and find a normal job. I want to go back home because I miss my mom,  and my dad and my sister and all our friends. I miss our favorite hiking trail and walking your dog who poops literally every two minutes and we’d be annoyed but it was also the highlight of my day. I miss seeing all our old friends from high school, hell I fucking miss school, which I never thought I’d ever say. I just see them killing it over at college and wonder if I’m missing out y’know?” Corbyn’s words were fast, and not thought out, but it was Corbyn’s mind and his mind was just exploding from being constrained for so long. He took a minute to think again to find the words he hadn’t come up with.

But y/n didn’t talk, she just continued to look between her boyfriend’s face and the city that she hadn’t realized brought him so much pain.

“I mean, I used to daydream about being here in LA, doing what I’m doing. Playing arenas and selling out tours and releasing music. I dreamt about making it big and being able to afford a big, luxurious house for the two of us, and I have, I’ve made it but I don’t even get to enjoy it with you. I’m never even home, I’m on tour or I’m in the studio writing and recording. If it’s not that it’s a photoshoot with the boys or shooting a music video for our next single. I don’t get to live in the house I’ve, and you’ve, worked so hard for and it’s frustrating. And I sound like the biggest idiot, sound like the biggest crybaby I’ve ever heard. I mean there’s people living on the streets down there, families who don’t have food. Fucking Flint, Michigan still doesn’t have clean water and villages in Africa don’t even have water or are living in a war zone and I’m here complaining because I can’t spend more time in my fucking house. I’m sitting here complaining over stupid things because I miss my girlfriend. Because I miss you, I miss you so much. I see you at night when I come home, we go to sleep and then I wake up before you and leave again. It’s not fair to you, hell it’s not fair to me.” He took a deep breath, his head falling between his knees. She thought he was going to cry, but he didn’t, he kept himself composed.

“Corbyn, it’s okay, I understand and I’m not mad-” she tried to tell him, but she was cut off. Suddenly Corbyn stood up from the picnic table and started pacing back and forth.

“I know that you’re okay with it and that’s the problem. Because y/n, you’re so patient with me, so kind and loving and forgiving. And I’m terrified I’m abusing those beautiful, those amazing qualities about you. I’m terrified that one day you’re going to get tired of waiting for me to come home and waking up alone. Because one day you’re bound to get tired of living alone in such a big city and you’re going to pack your bags and move back home to Virginia. And the problem is I wouldn’t blame you, because I wouldn’t put up with me either, because I’m never there. I wouldn’t blame you if you went back to Fairfax and found another man who was actually present and made you happy. I wouldn’t be mad that you would’ve moved on, but I’ll always be hung up on you because I don’t have time to find anyone else. It will literally always be you” He sat back down and the bench, still not done with emptying his brain.

“I just wish I was around more, wish I could enjoy what we have, what we’ve made together more. But I love my job, and I love my bandmates, my brothers and I love you so much and I don’t know what side to choose. Because this city gives you an expiration date, people only last so long in the music industry before falling down the inevitable rabbit hole, and we’ve only barely started. I mean Why Don’t We is still young, not even three years old yet, and we’re doing so good. So so so so so good and it’s exciting because the boys and I have worked so hard to get to this place. But these last two years have felt like a lifetime and I’m tired and I know you’re tired, and to be honest, I don’t know if I can last until the bands expiration date, because we’re growing so fast our date seems to be getting further and further every day. I guess I just feel like… like I’m reaching my breaking point.” Corbyn ended his rant, his tangent and he was breathless.

And y/n was at a loss of words, because she knew there was a lot up there in that big brain of his, but not that much. She didn’t realize he had so much fear in him, so much loneliness and fatigue.

By now the sky was a dark purple and rim between the sky and the sea was a dark, deep red, about to disperse into blue and purple as well.

“Can I tell you what I think?” y/n asked. Corbyn nodded his head, looking out into the city once more as the lights began to sparkle and the Pier was in full swing with the ferris wheel and colorful blinking lights. The Hollywood Sign, shined white as a reminder to what the city has provided for not just them, but for everyone who lives within it. 

“I think that your thoughts are completely valid, I think that you have every right to think that way. But I also believe that you think too much, that you get into your own head. There is no reason you should be jealous of our friends back home who drink every weekend and spend the next five nights studying for a stupid midterm. Because having a real job sucks all the creativity from your soul, and your soul is one of the most colorful ones I have ever seen. Corbyn you were born to do what you do, born to sing and dance and perform and make everyone around you happy and a better person. All five of you were destined to be here in this city, with this lifestyle. And I know it’s hard work and I know you’re tired, but I’m sitting here on the sidelines, listening to what people are saying, what people are posting, watching you guys work your asses off everyday, and it’s worth it. Because you guys are smashing it and are so close to becoming the next One Direction or BackStreet Boys or the fucking Beatles for Christ’s sake. But you can’t stop now, it isn’t your time, right now it’s your time to conquer the world, and if you think I won’t be there every step of the way you’re delusional. If you think I’d run back home to some hillbilly who peaked in high school your insane, because just like you said, Corbyn, you’re it for me too. We’ve been best friends since our moms used the same changing table together to change our diapers, and if you think that’ll ever change you’re wrong, you’re so so so so wrong.” She grabbed his face and laid kisses everywhere.

“And I miss you too, I miss you so much when you’re on tour or when you’re in the studio, but you know what I tell myself?” Corbyn shook his head, “I tell myself that I don’t need you by my side every waking hour of the day. Though it’d be nice, I know that you’re thinking about me just as much as I’m thinking about you. Our relationship is different y’know? We don’t need to speak everyday, we don’t need to constantly check up on each other, because it’s us and our love is strong enough to bare the silence, bare the space between us. And I know at the end of the day, when you’re home or whether you’re in the middle of Asia, we go to bed loving one another and waking up with the same love in our hearts. Don’t give up Corbs, this is your time, you’ve made it so far and I’m so proud. I know you’re tired and you miss your family and I know there’s nothing we can do about it, but we’ll miss them together. The next break you have, we’ll be on the next flight home to Virginia, and we’ll walk my gross, poopy dog and we’ll hike to the top of our favorite mountain and binge eat your mom’s pasta because man that shit is good.”

Corbyn laughed, a smile broke out into his face and the beautiful noises left his mouth, “she does make some kick-ass Alfredo doesn’t she?” He said.

“Damn right she does,” y/n laughed, “and we’ll even take a trip to University of Virginia one weekend and we’ll party all night so you can understand that you’re not missing out on anything. Because all those students want to be in the position you are in right now. And we’ll donate to charities for the poor and for the third world countries so you don’t have to feel bad about the successes you’ve made for yourself. Because Corbyn, you deserve every single success that you have been blessed with and do not ever second guess yourself.”

Corbyn looked at her, amazed by her words and the confidence behind them. Amazed because he truly did have it all, all stuffed inside of one girl. All of his doubt had completely vanished, and he had never felt better about where he was then in that moment.

He couldn’t help but crack the biggest smile the world has ever seen as he cupped her face and connected their lips, as he instantly felt a sense of home. A moment passed when he pulled away and looked deep into her eyes to see nothing but love and admiration.

“I love you so much y/n y/l/n, you don’t even know the half of it,” he told you.

“I love you too Corbyn Besson, and I plan to tell you that everyday,” She smiled as he picked up his guitar and began strumming, nothing but his singing and the lights of the city of dreams to focus on.

[once-upon-a-ouat]

“Stardust”

@knight-rook-a-history: Stars - AU (Day 6)

A Curious Archer AU inspired by the movie “Stardust”. This is a plot description of the idea because it got away from me and became too long to be written as an actual fic (heaven knows this description is too long, too). Fair warning for major character death and a sad, painful, bittersweet ending. I can’t help my love of angst, folks.

Read on FFN or AO3

Robin saw the star fall. Everyone saw it fall. Everyone knew it was somewhere outside the confines of Mist Haven. Everyone wanted it. No one dared to go get it. No one but Robin. And she had a plan, too. With the help of her two best friends - Gideon and Alexandra, she'd been preparing her plan for years, ever since they’d seen their first shooting star when they’d been kids. The three of them had made a pact to come up with a plan so that they'd be ready when the next star fell out of the sky.

They’d had enough time to perfect it over the years since there’d been no other shooting stars. Or they hadn't seen them. It didn't matter now. They had a star and Robin needed to get to it before someone else found it.

She grabbed the travel bag Gideon had prepared for her with all the things she might need, her bow and arrows, and the shoes Alex had made for her. They were of excellent workmanship and were enchanted. Gideon had helped Robin mold the magic from which Alex's mother's glass slippers were made and adapt it to her own needs. Gideon understood magic like no one else. He knew it inside out on a logical level which Robin couldn't even begin to comprehend. Her mom and aunt had always taught her that magic was emotion, and she'd never been that good at it anyway. She had just enough magic to accomplish the spell of altering a pre-existing body of magic under Gideon's guidance but that meant that the glass slippers had to be sacrificed. On the other hand, she had a pair of enchanted boots that could travel as fast as her body would allow. And Gideon had helped her make a copy of the glass slippers that would never fool a magic user for it wasn't nearly as precise as the original, but Ella would hardly notice the difference.

Robin was all set to go. She just needed to get past the magical barrier that kept them trapped, i.e. safe. Outside of the shield there were ogres lurking, but Robin wasn't afraid of them. She knew how to defeat them – the trick was to shoot them in the eye. Though, with her magical shoes she'd hardly have to worry about ogres. The magical barrier around Mist Haven was the only thing standing between her and that star. Luckily for her, her aunt was the queen of their isolated kingdom and a powerful sorceress. If she didn't have the key to the kingdom so to speak, no one did.

Robin went to her aunt's magic vault. It was sealed and even though her own magic had never been strong, that spell she could break. It was blood magic, after all. All she needed was a drop of blood. She cut herself on the tip of one of her arrows and entered the vault. That was the only part of the plan they needed to improvise because once she opened the vault, she wouldn't be able to seal it again. However, there was a small chance of her aunt finding out about it because she didn't use the vault anymore. Robin had never understood why she would keep all that magic locked away. But “to keep it away from inexperienced and reckless magic users”–such as herself–was probably a good guess.

Robin knew that what she was doing was dangerous. She knew it could blow up in her face in so many different ways and earn her a grounding for life. That was why Gideon and Alex were instructed to cover for her as long as possible. They'd lied that the three of them would be spending the night in their secluded childhood tree house. Knowing them, one night could easily turn into five, so that'd give her enough time to escape and find the star. By the time her disappearance was discovered, she would probably be on her way back and, hopefully, not empty-handed. If she succeeded in her quest, it would be worth all the risks she was taking. Life would change for all of them.

She found a way to open a small "door" in the magical barrier. However, she needed strong magic to spear through the magical field and she knew her own magic couldn't do that. She knew her mom's magic was stored in a box that was somewhere around the vault. Her mom had made the sacrifice to give up her magic in order to protect the community. Since then it was stored into the box and her mom and aunt had been looking for a way to get it back inside her. But that had been when Robin had been a baby. She was twenty-five now. If they hadn't found a way to do it by now, there probably wasn't one. Not in the confines of their magical trap anyway.

Robin took the box and let out her mom's magic. It made a hole big enough for her to get through the barrier. She stumbled out of Mist Haven falling face first into the grass, forced out by the magic. There was something different about the world outside, something wild and exciting. She headed for the place where the star had to be according to her calculations. Well, okay, Gideon's calculations. He'd helped her figure out where she needed to go. And the boots Alex had made for her took her there in under an hour as they allowed her to move with incredible speed.

She found the star but it turned out it was a girl and not, well, a rock, like they'd all expected. It didn't matter, though. She’d gone there for a star, and a star she'd take home.

The star didn't seem to agree with her, though. She accused Robin of being selfish for wanting to possess her. They started calling each other names. Robin called her Star Girl even though her name was Alice. Alice called her Snobin when she learned her name. Robin decided that a better approach might be to explain herself. She told Alice that she wanted to help her people.

Everyone had heard that shooting stars could grant wishes. So they had to be magical. She figured if she brought the fallen star to Mist Haven and everyone wished for it, the war with the ogres would end and they would be able to live freely, instead of being trapped under a magical lid.

Mist Haven was small for her. She wanted to be like her dad – roaming the forests without fearing the ogres and helping people in need. She wanted to have adventures. She wanted to find herself, and that wouldn't happen in Mist Haven.

She also wanted a better life for everyone else. Gideon could become a great scientist with the right resources. Alex could make a fortune from selling shoes to the royals from neighbouring kingdoms and even other realms. Her own mom could make clothes for other royals besides Robin's aunt instead of working on a farm. Snow White could track criminals, and her husband – David, could be a knight. And Emma’s powerful Savior magic could save thousands of people instead of being wasted in the confines of the magical trap they all lovingly called home. They didn't have to be trapped in Mist Haven with no opportunities for the future.

Alice said she'd go with her. She'd always hated to see wars. She couldn't bear the thought of them. Watching the earth for centuries, she'd seen more bloodshed than any human. The thing that kept her watching and shining on the people was how happy they seemed. They always sought adventures and the biggest adventure seemed to be love. So she said she'd look at this as an adventure. She hadn't fallen from the sky intentionally, but until she could find a way to go back home, she would take the opportunity to do what she'd always wanted.

Robin gave her the cloak Gideon had packed for her. They'd figured it would come in handy to conceal her load. Well, not exactly how they'd imagined it, but it still served its purpose. Alice also limited her shining so that she wouldn't blind or even obliterate Robin and anyone they might meet. It really helped to keep her off the radar of anyone else who might be after her.

Robin figured that the journey back would take a lot longer since Alice didn't have magical boots of her own, and carrying her wasn't an option. So they'd have to walk back. Robin was so grateful she had that map Gideon had made her.

Robin was also glad that she took all her savings with her even though she'd planned to use the shoes on the way back, too. Good thing she'd figured it was a good idea to have a backup plan because they needed something to eat. A means of transportation other than walking would be great, too, but there was no way her savings would be enough for a horse. Besides, she was trying to lay low and not draw attention to herself and Alice. However, that wasn't exactly easy with a curious star that was just beginning to get acquainted with human things.

If given the chance, Alice would stop at every step to smell the flowers and pet all the forest animals who seemed to flock to her even though they kept their distance from Robin. It was the bow. The animals on her mom's farm liked her well enough.

The trouble was that Alice drew the attention not only of the animals, but also of the people. Her presence was immediately felt in all the villages they passed–far enough from Mist Haven to not even be aware of the ogre infestation they were facing–as she was filled with child-like wonder by the simplest things. Robin tried to keep her in line, but every once in a while Alice found the opportunity to be in total awe by something as simple as a hook or a stuffed toy.

At one of the market places they went through, Alice saw a white rabbit and immediately fell in love with it. It seemed to gravitate towards her as well so Robin asked her if she wanted it and when Alice nodded enthusiastically, she bought it for her despite her concerns about keeping a low profile.

When they got to the forest, Alice let the rabbit go and it was out of sight as soon as she let it on the ground. Robin scolded her because "seriously, Star girl?" She paid money for that thing. Alice thanked her and said that she’d saved the rabbit from death and now it could live and have a family. Robin just shook her head and kept walking, but when she was out of Alice's sight, she allowed the smile to take over her face.

That night while they were walking–Alice wasn't used to sleeping during the night so Robin compromised by letting Alice sleep for a few hours during the day while she stood guard and they switched at night so that she could get some rest as well–they heard a commotion nearby. They saw a man threatening two girls. Robin used her archery skills to scare him away and save the girls whose names were Anastasia and Drizella. The two had been on their way to an inn nearby where their mother was waiting for them when the guy had come out of the forest, wanting their money.

Alice and Robin joined them on their way to the inn since Robin decided it would be good to sleep in a bed and take a bath for a change. They arrived at "Mother Gothel's Secret Garden" shortly. The innholder – Mother Gothel – was a friendly woman that immediately offered them shelter. Drizella and Anastasia were reunited with their mother – Rapunzel, and said they'd be on their way even though it looked like a storm was coming.

Mother Gothel recognized Robin as a magic user and told her she could show her a trick or two to help her in her travels while Alice was enjoying a nice cup of tea since Gothel, too, was a magic user. It was what helped her run the inn by herself and made it a real win. She told Robin that the trick she was showing her was called "Getting away with your prize" before disappearing.

Robin panicked and checked the inn for Alice but she couldn't find her anywhere. What was worse was that she couldn't get out of the inn. There was a spell that sealed her inside. She used what Gideon had taught her to change the structure of the magic of her shoes again so that it would allow her to walk out of the magical circle she was trapped in.

Once she was free, she started looking for a way to locate Alice. She went through her bag and found a locator’s potion that Gideon had put in there. She wondered what possible reason he could have had for putting that in there before deciding that it must have been his gift of foresight that had made him do it, and, really, what did it matter? The important thing was that she would be able to find Alice.

Her joy was quickly extinguished when she realized that she needed something of Alice's for the potion to be of any help. And she didn't have anything of hers. Well, unless she counted her own heart. Alice's curiosity, bravery and readiness to help had enchanted her from the beginning. And even though she'd only known her for a few days, she was the only one who'd ever made her feel so deeply. So she considered the possibility of ripping out her own heart to use with the potion since it was the only thing she had that belonged to Alice. Even though not in the traditional sense of the word when it came to locator’s potion. Still, it was the only chance she had of finding Alice so she decided to try it.

Before she could proceed with her plan, she was being teleported. And also shrunk. She found herself in a jar in Gothel's hands. The sorceress used her to motivate Alice to help her. She wanted Alice to shine bright enough to make her plants grow enough in size to take over the entire world and kill the people who only destroyed everything in their way. Alice refused but Gothel set a sensor to Robin's jar that would only open the lid when a certain level of brightness of light had been reached. And that would only happen if Alice agreed to cooperate. If not, Robin would soon run out of oxygen and die.

Alice started crying and from her tears grew other plants with stems of shimmering silver that knocked over the jar, shattering it to pieces, and attacked Gothel. Robin was still shrunk, though, but that hardly mattered at the moment. She kissed Alice's cheek, relieved that both of them were alive for the moment, and before she knew it, she was her normal size again. Alice hugged her and told her to close her eyes. And even behind her closed eyelids Robin could still see the blinding wave of light that radiated off of Alice.

When she opened her eyes, there was only ash left of Gothel and her plants. Alice had obliterated them with her shine. She explained to Robin that Gothel had put a curse on her to inhibit her power and prevent her from doing just that. But when the two of them had shared True Love's kiss, the curse had been lifted. And so had been the shrinking spell Gothel had put on Robin.

They got out of the cave where Gothel held them only to find themselves lost. They had no idea where the hell Gothel had taken them. Robin took out the map Gideon had given her and used reverse blood magic. She let the drop of blood fall on Mist Haven's location on the map and trickle down to where they were. It turned out that Gothel had taken them far away, thus eliminating all their progress. Robin groaned that they'd have to walk all that distance again. But Alice's hand in hers gave her the needed encouragement and lifted her spirits.

The two renewed their journey and tried to be less conspicuous this time so as to not draw the attention of another witch that wanted to use Alice's powers for evil. And for heaven's sake, no more inns. They slept under the night sky that was as full of stars as ever.

Robin saw the woven bracelets at one of the market places where they stopped to buy food and decided to buy matching ones for Alice and herself. While she was fumbling with the money, she overheard a conversation between two drunk pirates. She heard them mention the Jolly Roger and stuffed the bracelets in her bag before grabbing Alice's hand and rushing after the pirates.

They followed them to a hidden cove where the ship was anchored. Robin dragged Alice aboard despite her protests. They sneaked around a few of the crew members but their path was blocked by a man dressed in black leather and with a hook for a left hand. Robin recognized him as the captain of the ship – Killian Jones.

She introduced herself as a friend of Gideon’s from Mist Haven which immediately grabbed his attention and he welcomed them on board. Robin explained to Alice that that was the man who had brought Gideon to Mist Haven after he'd rescued him from a place called Neverland where time didn't move and Gideon had been trapped for centuries after he'd been kidnapped from his parents.

Killian offered them lunch and safe passage to Mist Haven. He then asked Robin to tell him everything about Gideon. She told him about the workshop Gideon had in Mist Haven where he built all sorts of inventions to help ease the life of the people.

Meanwhile, Alice was at the railings, watching the sea. A figure in a brown cloak approached her. She could feel the darkness in him. But before she could say anything, he revealed that he knew she was a star. She asked him how he knew and he told her his magic could detect hers.

Robin chose to interrupt at that moment for she’d recognized the hooded figure. She turned to Killian, shocked that he’d have the Dark One on his ship. She’d heard stories about him. The man who could’ve easily ended the Ogre war but had refused to. She drew an arrow and aimed it at him, perfectly aware of her minimal chance to even get to shoot it, not to mention hit him with it.

Killian stopped her, revealing that that was Rumplestiltskin – Gideon's father. He’d challenged him to a duel because he’d wanted his ship. It could fly thanks to the sail made of pegasi feathers and he needed just that to rescue his son from the prison he was being held in. Killian had agreed to help him when he’d learned the boy was trapped on Neverland. His own brother had found his death on that cursed island, so if he had the chance to save someone from there, he would take it. They’d rescued the boy and had brought him to Mist Haven where he’d be safe.

Robin asked why Rumple hadn’t stayed with him and had left him an orphan instead. Rumple told her the story. He’d been the Savior, destined to end the great evil that’d been born the same winter as him. It had turned out that evil had been his own mother. And to prevent him from fulfilling his destiny, she’d cut off the thread of his life, thus altering his fate. He’d turned out to be a coward. Yet, he’d found a kind soul who’d been able to look past all of his shortcomings and had fallen in love with him. He’d fallen in love with her and they’d gotten married. Soon his wife had given birth to a son – Gideon, named after her favorite book character. They’d been living a fairytale.

Until his mother had reentered his life. She’d been trying to steal Gideon from them because, as the son of the ex Savior, he had powerful magic that could help her get what she wanted. Afraid of her endless attempts to steal his son, Rumple had sought out the Dark One and had taken his power for himself so that he’d be able to protect his family from the woman who’d ruined his life the first time around. He wouldn't let her do it again.

However, when he returned from his journey with the power of the Dark One, it had been too late. His son had been kidnapped by his father – Peter Pan, who ruled over Neverland. He’d taken the boy in hopes of being reunited with his wife. So Rumple searched for ways to get his son out of Neverland for years while his wife faded under the burden of the grief and time. She’d died eventually and he’d had nothing to keep him on the side of light anymore. He’d used more and more dark magic and it had been consuming him slowly. And he still hadn’t found a way to get to his son.

Then he’d heard about Killian’s ship. Together the two of them had freed Gideon with Rumple killing his father in the process. They’d saved Gideon but he hadn’t even recognized his papa. He looked nothing like he had before and his voice sounded different with madness woven in it. He’d sunk so deep into the darkness that his own son hadn’t been able to recognize him. So he’d decided Gideon would be better off without him and Killian had suggested to get him to Mist Haven where he’d be safe.

However, the Black Fairy – Rumple’s mother, had followed them there as she’d needed Gideon's magic in order to be able to stay in that dimension and not be pulled back to the one she’d been banished to. And as luck would have it, in Mist Haven she’d found the last ingredient she needed in order to free herself – Emma. She was the new Savior and with enough of her magic she could open a portal between the dimensions and come back to this one permanently.

Killian stepped in to tell Robin about her mother’s brave sacrifice. The Black Fairy had used Zelena’s magic to power her plan, and in order to stop her Zelena had sacrificed her magic, thus saving everyone in Mist Haven. However, the Black Fairy had consumed enough of Gideon's magic–all of it, actually–for one final battle. It had been Rumple who’d incinerated her, leaving only a heap of dark fairy dust behind. It had seemed harmless enough but it had poisoned the soil and had turned all the bugs into ogres. That had been how the Ogre war had started and they’d had to seal Mist Haven to prevent more people from falling victim to the vicious beasts.

Robin needed some time to process the whole story but, luckily for her, now that they were on the ship they had time to rest and actually enjoy the journey.

Alice seemed to have great fun on the ship. Killian taught her the main things about being a pirate – steering a ship, swordfighting, reading maps and even navigating with help from the stars. She loved the sea for it was so different from the sky, yet, reminded her so much of it. It was the sky’s reflection on earth, and it was beautiful.

One night Rumple caught her staring lovingly at Robin who was talking to Killian. It turned out he’d known her father so he was telling her all about him. Meanwhile, Rumple told Alice about his wife – Belle. He told her about her passionate love of books, her desire for adventures and her brave heart. He told her of how much she reminded him of her, and when Alice mentioned that she’d never really read a book, he conjured Belle’s favorite – Her Handsome Hero. It was the one from which Gideon's name had come.

It took them a few days but they finally arrived at the port near Mist Haven. Robin knew something was wrong the moment they first stepped on land.

They rushed to where she’d opened a passage in the barrier and entered Mist Haven only to find it ravaged. The ogres had found the opening in the shield, too, and had taken advantage of it. Robin wondered how that could’ve happened. Rumple’s guess was that they’d picked up the lower vibration of the hole in the barrier with their incredibly sensitive hearing. They were blind but their other senses more than compensated for it. And when Rumple told her that something must have drown them near after her objection that they usually didn’t come close enough to the barrier to sense a disruption in it, she realized that it was all her fault. She hadn’t closed the wound on her finger when she’d pricked herself in order to open the vault. A drop of blood must have fallen on the grass when she’d dropped to the ground on her way out.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice that sounded familiar. She saw her mom being attacked by an ogre. She would’ve been killed if Emma hadn’t saved her with her magic. There was a heavy battle going on. Emma and Regina were using their magic to shield the people and transport them to a safe place–if there even was such a thing–while David was brandishing his sword left and right and Snow was shooting arrow after arrow. Mulan and Philip were also there, fighting to protect what was left of their home.

Robin couldn't care about all of that. She ran to her mom, relieved to see that she was okay. Zelena hugged her, looking just as relieved to see that her daughter was fine, but their joy was short-lived. Zelena berated Robin for putting everyone’s lives at risk before telling her that not everyone had had her luck. Alex’s father was dead. And who knew how many other people.

Robin felt the tears falling from her eyes. She’d just wanted better lives for all of them. But she’d ended up taking away even the ones they’d already had. And the worst part was that she couldn't do anything to fix her mistake. If Emma and Regina’s combined power wasn’t enough to stop the ogres, she had no chance.

That was when she heard Alice call her name. She told her that she could stop it. She could destroy the darkness. It was why she’d fallen from the sky. She’d been sent to help them all. Her light could balance out all the darkness that had been spread around their world. And before Robin could say anything, she started sucking the darkness out of the ogres, causing them to shrink back to the bugs they’d been before.

The moment Robin saw it, she knew what the consequences would be. Alice would die. Her shine was fading with every second as it neutralized the darkness. She could save them. But she had to die.

Robin begged her not to do it, but Alice had decided already. She reasoned that Robin’s wish had been for her to save them from their prison. And when the darkness was gone, they’d be able to go on all the adventures their hearts desired.

Robin cried at her that that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She wanted the adventures only if Alice was there to share them with her. She’d wanted adventures, too, and she couldn't give up on that.

She assured Robin that the adventure the two of them had had on the way back had been more than enough. And while Robin wailed that it wasn’t enough for her, Alice concentrated all her power on shining. She felt more darkness entangling with her light and turned to see Rumple’s skin returning to its normal texture and color as all the darkness drained out of him and flowed into her.

Alice said a last “I love you” to Robin and, with a loud explosion, the darkness and the light melded together and dissolved into thin air, perfectly balanced. A cloud of stardust fell all over Mist Haven, causing yellow flowers to start growing from the soil. Later, they found out that they had healing powers and helped immensely in the recovery of those who’d gotten injured in the battle. Even in her death Alice had found a way to save more lives and had left them one last parting gift.

Robin was proud of her. But that didn’t change the pain that was tearing her apart. She fell to the ground, her fingers clutching at the bracelet that was the only physical proof she had that Alice had ever existed.

Gideon ran towards her but the sight of his father gave him pause. Without the darkness, he recognized him, but there was no time for a happy reunion. Without the darkness, his father was dying. He only had time to tell him he loved him before the light left his eyes.

Gideon cried.

Alex cried.

Robin cried.

When she’d managed to pick herself up enough to function, she used her magic to gather the particles left of Alice. It drained all her power but she had a pile of stardust in her hands in the end. She used her magic again to sprinkle it over the sea water that was to become Alice’s last home. She would be happy there.

Killian gave her the Resurrection Amulet that was told to be able to revive people. It just needed to be filled with magic. And it needed a price to be paid. Gideon warned her of that. She’d known it already. Not that she would’ve used it. Alice wouldn't have wanted that. She’d made her own decision and Robin respected it. Besides, she’d already used her magic for the last time to give Alice the resting place she deserved.

She used the amulet to suck out her own magic and then gave it to her mom. It was the least she could do after stealing the box with her mom’s magic. Besides, Zelena would use it more responsibly to help people, and not hurt them. Robin only asked her to use it to restore the glass slippers that she’d destroyed. Ella would want back the thing that had helped her find her husband. And Alex would want them, too, now that her father was dead. And Robin had already robbed them of enough.

She also gave Gideon the book Rumple had given Alice. His mother’s favorite. Alice would’ve wanted him to have it.

To Killian she gave the bracelet that she’d bought for Alice. She’d seen how much the two of them had bonded in the short time she and Alice had been on his ship. He’d acted like a father to Alice the whole time, teaching her everything he could and always remaining understanding, even when Alice’s perspective on things had been a little too unique for a human to understand. He deserved to have it.

Robin was glad to hear from him that he planned to stay at Mist Haven. A certain blonde Savior had caught his eye so he’d decided to stay on shore for a little while. See where things would take them.

And Robin had decided to leave. She would travel and devote her time to helping people in need. Just like Alice had done. And like her own father had done when he’d been alive.

She slept under the stars that didn’t seem so bright anymore. Maybe they were mourning the loss of their sister.

Alice would never find her way back to the night sky. But the stardust that was left of her still carried life in it and when the fish swallowed it, they turned into a species no one had seen before. They turned into starfish.

[bumblingseabiscuit]

Woes.

The following will be a vent post. If you’re here for my #randomshit posts, then, feel free to skip on by. . .

We’re going to cut right down to the nitty-gritty: I’m being forced to move. At the end of March, the person in my family who had a salary was given eight weeks notice. His company was shutting their doors, forever. We thought we had a couple more years, but as it turns out, the company wasn’t forthcoming in how its profits were doing. As such, my family member will no longer have a job at the end of this month.

I should note here: while I have a job, it’s commission based and season favorable. So, I don’t make a “life support” amount of cash.

We spent all of April hunting for a job with all the heartache attached to that. I have a lot of illness that keeps me from working most mundane jobs (like retail or labor intense). I was trying desperately to find something administrative or office-based (to no success: turns out, I’m either under or over qualified all the time!). We were so convinced all April that we could make this work. 

But, we couldn’t. By the end of the month, it was determined we had to move. 

There are a few reasons for this and honestly, it isn’t that I don’t support them, but they break my heart regardless. Technically, we could rent the upstairs of our home and live in the suite downstairs. But, my mother wouldn’t be able to have her horse on the property (not that she does now, this is an entirely different vent, though). Furthermore, by living downstairs, we’d be “breaking even,” on bills not really progressing forward (but not backsliding). 

By moving, we’ll be able to actually own our home and land (no mortgage), live off government grants, and have the horse on the property. I’m sure that all sounds great! . . .Except it’s in the middle of nowhere. It was a chore to find a place with the type of internet necessary for me to be able to even keep gaming. The population of the place we’re moving to? Around 2k. And, if you don’t know me, I’m already pretty isolated where I am.

Where I live right now, there’s a lot of young adult addiction. There’s nothing to do. There are no programs, no solid hang out spots, there’s nothing for LGBTQA+, and there’s nothing for those under the Pagan umbrella. There are no “hot spots,” or genuine nerdy hangouts. It’s an industrial city with nothing else. We have an overpriced theatre but, I mean, you get the picture. 

I also live out of town from all the people I’ve grown close to by at least 40 minutes. In the scope of things that doesn’t sound awful. But, it starts to add up. The benefit of being here, however, is that I am close to easy-access work (for my commission job), I am close to the border, and I have access to events related to medieval recreation. 

I have none of that where I’m moving, which is about four hours away (from where I am now), and through a dangerous highway known for multiple deaths a year! But hey, the horse will be able to be on the property, yaaay!

When we first began the process of moving, my mother made it out like my singular requirement of having a solid internet connection that was stable enough for my online gaming (so I needed to be able to stream, play endgame without latency, not be crashing out every second, etc) was what was “making everything so hard.” ‘Cause, there were all these beautiful homes with so much land!!! . . .but they didn’t have internet. 

And like, y’all, I’m going to be insanely isolated. I’ve already been digging. There are no young adult programs there. If there’s a pagan society or rainbow society? I haven’t found it. And we’re not even going to talk about the fact that the hospital is basically the size of a large gas station. Look, there are plenty of people who do well in small villages: but I am sick and I have one singular requirement that keeps me mentally sane with everything I have to go through.

I’m sorry, mom, that you can’t have you acreage oasis dream mansion because I want internet?

After speaking with my dad, it turns out the issue isn’t even the internet. We could be living in an actual house (we’re moving into a mobile home, which again, I don’t mean any insult here I just have some mobile-related trauma*), with a nice yard/backyard, but it wouldn’t have enough space for a horse. If we’re talking about “moving requirements” being an “issue” mother is making it out like I’m the problem (nothing out of the ordinary) when really it’s all her requirements for a farm that’s the issue. 

And the whole thing has just been one massive point of stress. My parents argue, sure, but they’ve been arguing tenfold. I’m a light sleeper, the floors are thin, and I don’t remember the last time I actually hit deep sleep between insomnia (diagnosed) and the fighting. Our house went on the market on Tuesday, completely unprepared for by the way, and we had someone who was supposed to show up at four yesterday (Saturday). Spoilers: they didn’t. But beyond, “They didn’t,” we got told Thursday that the house needed to be in, “Showing condition.” Then, after not showing up yesterday, the lady shows up today (with an hour and a half warning), only looks at the top floor, and decides the “vibe” isn’t for her.

inhale. exhale.

What does that mean? Don’t know, don’t even really care. Idk if I just am softer than people, but, if I was going to a house for a showing I would at least look at all of it (even if I didn’t want to buy). Like, I just think that’s polite? Someone has clearly gone through the effort of presenting so like, care enough to not just abort? We worked to the bone trying to prep the house for Saturday (or today), and y’all, it looks nice. 

But naw, wrong vibe, not staying to even glance at the rest of the floors / yard.

There’s also the issue of we’re running out of time. Paychecks end this month. We have nothing really coming in after that. We don’t know how we’re going to afford groceries (we haven’t been buying any), board (for the horse), bills, and much more. And, if we don’t sell quickly, we risk bankruptcy. Despite knowing how deep into hot water we are financially, I also struggle to even really consider a Go Fund Me. Taking people’s money, knowing I will never be able to give anything back for it, makes me nauseated. 

And this doesn’t tackle all the little things, either. Idk, y’all. I walk around in my home and I feel so lonely. I grew up here and I have to leave it all behind. Not because I want to, but because I have to, and any choice I may of made regarding moving is just gone. I know that this is the right choice for my family but it’s an awful choice for me. I’m sad, I’m so anxious I’ve been throwing up, and I just want the limbo to end. 

If you’ve read this far: thank you. Screaming into the blue void that is tumblr doesn’t actually solve anything, but, it helps make the burden feel a little lighter.

[thotyssey]

On Point With: DJ Ten Yards

Sam Branman, the DJ third of Brooklyn nightlife monster trio Str8 to DVD, is also churning out some of the skimpiest and most fashionable Speedos on the planet (among other things). Thotyssey tries to keep up with Ten Yards!

Thotyssey: DJ, hello! Thanks for chatting with us today! First of all, OMG YOU GOT HIT BY A CAR!? How exactly did this happen, and how are you?

DJ Ten Yards: It was super fucking annoying. I was actually on my way to Annie Mae, which is Laè D Boi’s party (currently first Sundays at The Rosemont) I’m the resident DJ / video curator for, and I was literally crossing the street one block from my house and a fucking pickup truck hit me from behind! I’m mostly okay--my left arm got banged up and I’m doing PT to get that back to full fighting strength. They also destroyed my laptop! The truck actually sped off after hitting me, but I found it thanks to some nosy neighbors, and I’m starting legal proceedings. I obviously didn’t make it to the party, and went to the ER instead.

Does this bring home how terrible the world and it's people can be?

I mean, everyone who saw me get hit were super nice and helpful! I’m not letting one asshole who can’t drive ruin my worldview. even if it did jack my arm up.

That's the spirit! Will you still be making it to DragCon, if that's something you were planning to do?

Absolutely! I’m lucky in that I am able to work on jewelry and I’ve been preparing for it for months, so I have a lot of apparel no one’s seen yet ready to go! I’m at table C31, and I’m there all weekend (except Saturday morning because there’s no way I’m going directly from Str8 to DVD to DragCon, which starts at 9. My husband Erik can work that alone.)

Between your designs and your DJ’ing, there's lots to talk about, so we better start right at the beginning. Where's your hometown, and what came first: fashion or music?

I grew up mostly in Olive Bridge, NY, but I just say I’m from Woodstock because it’s the closest landmark that people who aren’t from there know. Fashion came first! I loved dressing up as a child, and I started sewing what mostly resembled actual clothing when I was 18. I had decided to go to college for photography, not fashion. But I’m a big nerd, so I’d do a few cosplay projects to wear at the anime conventions I went to every summer.

Who were you cosplaying as?

My first actual cosplay was Hirai Ken from the “Pop Star” video. There’s three of him in different colored jumpsuits, and I could sort of do the hair he has in the red one! I also did a very loose Tommy February6 (we share a birthday!), invented a fake Japanese band with friends, and Ray Watts from KMFDM / PIG / Schwein. I still wear the shirt I made for that, but the jumpsuit was sacrificed last year to become Beltane ribbons, and the others just languish in my clothing labyrinth.

And when did DJing come into the picture?

I’ve always wanted to be musical, but I’m not. I tried to learn instruments, to learn how to write music. I was briefly sort of in a band or two (I even have album credits). I am, however, a collector and very opinionated... so I can DJ! My friend DJ A-Ron’s DJing partner moved away, and he offered to show me the ropes. We did a few gigs together at Nowhere back in 2013, and I struck out on my own DJing for a few now-defunct parties around Manhattan and Brooklyn. I didn’t start the drag-DJ gig until Qhrist With a Q and Sherry Poppins asked me to do what was then 1-900-HOT-GLUE two years ago!

You met Qhrist in a nerdy chat room, right?

Yep! Eightish years ago? I helped convince Qhrist to go to Purchase, too.

Good for you! What was the rationale at the time behind creating HOT GLUE, which is now STR8 to DVD?

At the beginning, I was just helping out! They wanted to make a space for themselves and the other performers coming out of Purchase, like Maxxx Pleasure, Lindsay Blowhan, and Jenn D'Role, and I was along for the ride. I didn’t initially do any production work besides promo, letting Qhrist and Sherry stay at my place, and making sure I had everyone’s music at first. But now we all do booking / coming up with names. I’ve been the one finding our newbie performers all year long, and I convinced them to change the name to STR8 to DVD.

This has become a hugely popular night, enough so to warrant a recent move from monthly Mondays to Fridays! What have been some memorable moments for you from STR8?

Every single one of Qhrist and Sherry’s stupid, perfect, beautiful, unrehearsed duets. They’re so good together that people don’t realize how unrehearsed they are. When Sherry was still getting ready at my house with Qhris, they might listen to the song once or twice to get the words down, but that’s it! 

I’m also very fond of our massively overbooked Halloween show last year, when we all kept booking people and forgetting until it was too late. We wound up with 9 performers and 13 actual numbers. It was perfect. Half of them involved food, because we’re gross and live in Brooklyn.

That reminds me, I hear that pasta and fake blood were factors in a perilous Bushwig this summer!

I fully missed all of the mess, because of where my booth was at Bushswag! I couldn’t see shit. I made sure to see the performers I’d made clothes for, and my personal legends like Charlene, Untitled, Ragamuffin, Tyler Ashley, and Chutney Spears with that fucking snake.

Gurl, that snake! So STR8 is turning 2 this Friday at Gold Sounds ... what's in store for the anniversary?

STUPIDITY! I’m glad we’re leaning into being irredeemable and canceled. Qhrist already has to redo the flyer because one performer canceled, we forgot we booked one performer, and Lindsay Blowhan is coming all the way up from Virginia for it, and we should probably have her perform? I guess? It’s not like she’s Sherry’s daughter and performed at our first, like, six shows or anything. 

We’ve got Sandy Devastation who made her debut at STR8 to DVD, Papusa Smear who made their debut with us, and Kaey Kiel, a nice cabaret singer and journalist from Berlin who doesn’t deserve to deal with any of this! She’s staying with my husband and her dream is to perform in New York, so we’re making all her dreams come true.

Another monthly (third Saturdays, in this case) you've been DJing, Emi Grate's “A+: The Asian Revue,” has also recently had it's own (1st) anniversary, and has moved to The Monster in the West Village. What has it been like, being a part of that?

It’s super fun! Emi is so fucking on top of every detail. She sends out a multi-page email with every piece of information you could ever want, she has the lineup a month in advance sometimes, and the show is at a reasonable hour! Never underestimate how great it is to leave the gig at 10pm and still be able to go out afterwards... or even just go home, have dinner, and go to bed. Because of the way Gold Sounds is set up, I don’t actually do much DJ work if there aren’t drag queens on stage. But with A+ (and Annie Mae), I spend a significant amount of time actually DJing. That’s always fun. For both those shows, I play exclusively Jpop and Kpop (and would happily take suggestions for fun pop and dance music from throughout Asia! A cute boy suggested some Hindi pop songs at the most recent A+)

And the next “Annie Mae” is October 7 at the Rosemont! That's a super geeky celebration of genre fan culture that Laé D. Boi produces. That must be right up your ally!

It is! I always choose anime movies or TV shows to screen during the party on top of DJing! This month the theme is Studio Ghibli, so I think I’m gonna be playing Princess Mononoke, Kiki’s Delivery Service, and either Pompoko or Lupin III: Castle of Cagliostro. I’m pretty sure Sherry Poppins will bring one of her swords, too.

So, your Ten Yards clothing line is all the rage! The sexy and colorful speedos are especially in demand! How did this come about?

I wanted to make bathing suits--made a few for myself. And then it felt like suddenly people started asking me to make them suits, and now here I am! A local bathing suit mogul. It’s been over four years, and all it took was saying “Sure, I can do that.” and then figuring it out.

How long does it take you to make a speedo now?

My first few took time, but I’m a fucking wizard now. Obviously with my arm it’s hard right now, but I can make a speedo from start to finish in about 35 minutes. Jockstraps are 27 minutes if I go at full speed!

And now you’re bringing us jewelry as well!

You can thank my mom for the jewelry! She made it all in the 80’s and early 90’s. I’m just the refurbishing squad. I’m actually photographing it right now, so I have a record of it, because most of it’s totally unique and once it is gone, it’s gone.

And much-belated congratulations on having your Fashions nominated for a Brooklyn Nightlife Award a few months back.

It was amazing to be nominated, and I knew I would lose to Florence or Diego because they’re both powerhouses! Luckily, Florence moved to Manhattan, so I have an entire year to snatch that brick from Diego’s beautiful and talented hands.

Another thing to congratulate you on: being happily married! That may sound trite, but finding true love in the nightlife biz is damn hard. What’s your secret?

So, part of it is that we don’t live together, so I’m usually not disturbing him when I come home at 4am. And when we have problems, we talk it out! Erik’s also a lovely angel who supports me no matter what. He helps out whenever I have to sell shit, and buys fabric and zippers even if it makes him nervous. But he has a day job, so he’s only been able to come to three of my gigs in the five and a half years we’ve been together.

I also wasn’t working in nightlife when we met! That probably helps, too. He’s been there every step of the way as I’ve made the switch into nightlife and fashion design.

Okay, do you have anything else you wanna plug or discuss before I ask the closer?

Nah, just a schedule recap for people who get lost in my rambling! STR8 To DVD: CANCELED is at Gold Sounds (44 Wilson Ave) on 9/28, we have shows at Midnight, and it costs $5-10. I’ll be at table C31 during DragCon (that’s the 28-30th at the Javits, ugh), Annie Mae: Ghibli is at The Rosemont on 10/07, and is free, I’ll be there at 10:30 to start the movies! See you there!

Finally: who would you really love to see in one of your speedos?

Anyone who wants a pair! But I wouldn’t say no to some Instagram thots with 30k+ followers, so long as they tag me.

Thanks, Ten!

Check Thotyssey’s calendar for DJ Ten Yards’ upcoming gigs, and follow him on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

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