#i am only on chapter 11 and my emotions have been whiplashed to the next galaxy

[curuxavermella]

Who's an airhead? Me! With the event going on I didn't think they'd release Lesson 12, but joke's on me, because they did. Not only that, but for some astral alineation, I completely missed anyone talking about it in both twitter and tumblr. I only realized it was out when I went to jump chapters on the normal mode this morning and saw "Lesson 12: 0/12-13-14 some number I forgot" on the list and then flipped my shit. I have the notifications on for the official account as well, but I somehow missed it too. Whoops.

Anyways it's an emotional galore and Solmare sure likes its cliffhangers, again.

Lesson 11 suffering

Look! Nightbringer decides to grace us with his invisible presence! And ngl I'm terrified of the options they gave us when asked what we thought of this world:

I chose I wanted to go home, and a bitch decided to guilt trip me with "don't you like the brothers as they are now?" man I do but I don't belong here!! I don't mind helping them because I love them but I can't leave the present brothers as it is!

Anyways they also drop this and I am terrified of Nightbringer now.

Not ominous at all. They also fully confirm he's a demon, and that both mc and them want the same thing.

Edit: but, however, we should know better than to trust his word for it don't be like me kids. Again, still-a-morosexual-help brings good points about Nightbringer's identity.

Anyways after we fucked up big time in the Reaper's cave, we fall into a coma, or deep sleep because of the Rules right in front of the present brothers, Solomon and Thirteen. Thirteen can't do anything as she wasn't the one who put that rule in particular, and the last person we hear before passing out due to the curse is Mammon.

This whole lesson is about the brothers visiting us and talking to us as we sleep, and I loved it a lot. Well, we are asleep, sort of, but we can still hear them. Even if we try to reply to them, we can't. Our body is comatose, but we're aware of our surroundings. That's the best way I can put it, I suppose.

First one was Levi, who also says this and gives me whiplash about Solomon.

For me to be convinced that Solomon wanted us fully on his side without caring for our input, he'd have to pull something like "bring them to Cocytus Hall instead" but no, he sends us home, to the house full with our demon family. Deep down he must know how mc loves all of them, so the "choose humanity" thing just... What's he thinking, I wonder? We'll probably have a talk when we wake about it but not now as we're knocked out.

We find out form Levi that Diavolo forgave Beel. They probably looked into what drove him berserk. They don't tell us any specifics yet.

Anyways, we get a heart to sleeping heart with Levi. They're going for the throat of us who easily get teary-eyed. He's not one of my favs, but I like him anyways, especially here. He just wants to hang out with a friend. Or a date, depending on how you prefer to see it.

Next up is Satan. My man. I love him so much. He's reading to us, and he's reading "The Tale of Princess Kaguya", out of all the damn things to read.

He's also pretty honest about finding out we were human, because he missed the Great Revelation Moment. In Lesson 11 and the hard mode, we see him with Simeon and Luke and they decide to make dinner for everyone when they came back from the castle.

Apparently, he would've been really mad. But just like Luci (I suspect), he's mad about us lying, that there was a side that we kept to ourselves.

Just like the other brothers, he begs us to wake up, and I had a hard time not pressing the "I love you" option back, because I want to try going down Solo-Luci route, but Satan makes it hard for me as he's also my favourite, and here is where we see him at his most vulnerable. Anyhow, whoever is cutting onions needs to fucking stop. He just asks us to wake up.

Next brother to visit us is Beel, and you can tell it's him because:

Yup.

He tells us about the gifts and food the other brothers left on us on the bed. Asmo brought some cupcakes, Mammon some chocolate coins, Levi some choco figurines and Beel brought some buns. God I love them so much and I didn't forget we still didn't have our moment with Beel about his Falling, just like with the rest of the brothers, so I was ready for him to talk a bit about it, or at least hint about it happening soon.

There it is jdhgadsf he says not yet, though. Our favourite gentle giant says how he's always starving, that doesn't matter how much he eats, that it never goes away, that he can use our advice about this big secret of his. When we try to reply, he thinks he sees mc smile.

Next up is Mammon, who's running in to hide from some pandemonium going on outside caused by his brothers.

He's mad that we're asleep lol but that's his coping, I suppose. I can't help but wonder if they're all the same way back in the present.

And then, because the onion cutter has me on their hit list and knows my weakness, Mammon drops this shit:

Mammon says that with us, he feels like he can accomplish what he puts his mind into, like the Cerberus thing, and that he needs us, so if we decide to run off to the human world, he'll follow us up there.

Asmo's up next, and just like the rest of the brothers, he opens his heart a bit to mc as we sleep, telling the reason he paints his brothers' nails is so everyone can tell they're brothers. This is where I knew I'd fight any Asmo hater on sight.

Going the opposite of Mammon, Asmo says that after we wake up, if we want to go back, that he'll do everything to help us.

This is all after asking if we were like him after he arrived to the Devildom, if we secretly wanted to go back to the place we came from, and if we were sad, scared or lonely.

Y'ALL NEED TO STOP.

Then came Belphie, which was a surprise because I was not expecting him just yet...

He apologizes, you can tell it's hard on him. Despite how we started in og!OM I adore Belphie, so my mc would forgive him in a heartbeat.

Then he drops a bit of lore bit about Lilith, and how she thought both Angels and Demons looking to guide humans felt insulting to them. I shit you not. Lilith had the same thoughts as Solomon.

Belphie says that he thought her way of thinking was strange, but after hearing we gave back the grimoire to them, that he gets Lilith a little bit more. That humans aren't exactly helpless.

That 180 turn came faster than I expected it, but I'm not complaining. It's also the fact that he wasn't locked into the attic, so his anger didn't fester as much as it did in the og one, plus this time we did something greater that proved we were on their side.

Then Belphie falls asleep holding our hand.

Last, but not least, comes Luci. Just like Levi, he's stroking mc's hair. I actually confused them at first, I thought Luci was first in there hah.

He pulls a Mammon at first, pretending to be angry at us, the sleeping attendant who should be doing their job and has plenty of secrets, like us possessing his ring, but it falls off quickly as he starts talking about his own secrets instead, and it's one we know: that Lilith is still alive as a human, and it weighs on him that he can't tell his brothers.

He also talks a bit more about Lilith, which I appreciate. How she didn't listen to him (lol) and was pretty emotional and expressive. Plus, when he asked her about her love for a human trying to stop her, she told him he'd fall for someone one day and he'd understand her then. Ouch.

Also this.

Sweats in Simeon. Please, he's one of my favourites. Can't wait for shit to go down in present time about this, because my fav ending would be with Luci+Satan+Simeon. Simoen is actually human there though, so maybe they'll use that to skirt about the issue. I just like drama and angst anyways and I yearn to fight the whole Celestial Realm over our found family if needed.

Luci goes on a bit on how he believed love was beautiful, so he didn't exactly understand why their Father gave Lilith the biggest punishment (being casted out with no chance of being reborn/salvation), and by questioning Him, he brought disgrace upon his brothers.

Just like Asmo, he wonders if us keeping our humanity from them was a weight just as heavy as his own secret to his brothers.

Lucifer then gives mc a kiss, and here is when I wasn't sure if it was because I didn't choose the other brothers instead, or if he does it anyways and it's a free interpretation of where he places it. Could be in the forehead if you're feeling platonic. They didn't even give me an option, unlike with the other brothers. In all the previous visits, you could tell them that you loved them, or choose a more platonic option. I went full platonic with all of them because I wanted to choose the "I love you" option with Luci, but he just fucking skipped it and went for the kiss instead lmfao. I like him, so I can't complain, but for someone who prefers a more friendly option... well, I suppose it's why they didn't describe what he did, so it's a free interpretation. Like I said, could be a forehead kiss if you feel more like it.

Then the ring glows and here there be another cliffhanger. See you in 10 days (9 now lol), I suppose. Seems to be the pattern.

The extra lesson is about Beel going to talk to Belphie in their room, trying to get him to visit mc and apologize. I love the twins so much.

Since I was already late I also went and did hard mode, thinking it'd be about Solomon searching for a way to break the curse (Leviathan comments on it during his visit, but Solomon never comes over), but instead it's about Simeon, Luke and Satan watching as the demon brothers run home carrying a comatose mc in a panic. Oh joy.

Solomon nearly slips, too, almost calling the guest room "MC's room-". Simeon neutralizes the curse, but is unable to remove it. The brothers and Solomon vow to find a way to dispel it, "even if it means doing the impossible", I quote Solomon.

Luke, being the literal angel that he is when he's not hating demons, tries to lift the crestfallen mood by saying they got dinner ready with Satan. They all thank him, which I found adorable, but decides to stay with mc saying he "wants to talk". I assume it's the beginning before his visit, and it stops there.

o(-< I'm dead man. I loved the brothers telling us bits about themselves. At least this cliffhanger was a bit more bearable lmao....... and I'm in for the suffering, at least a little bit. Just a sprinkle.

I was a bit sad we didn't get a visit from the other side charas, but I'm confident we'll have our moment eventually. For now I wonder how we'll dodge the questions of where the fuck did we come from, and why do we have the ring? What did Solomon tell Simeon and "counted on him" back when leaving the house? o(-< WHO KNOWS??? "good luck finding out too" -solmare, probably.

Edit: LESSON 13 IS OOOOUUUUUUUUT

#Anne plays obey me! nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers #this lesson brought to you by the onion cutting man who is out to get all of us apparently #obey me! nightbringer #obey me!

[mazojo]

Tomodachi Game is the reason I have trust issues

#i am processing right now hold on gimme a minute #i am only on chapter 11 and my emotions have been whiplashed to the next galaxy #how do yall like your male manipulaotr ships?? Its serial killer alpha x woman hater beta for me !! #LMAO BrO WHat is happening aksdfggf mom come pick me up i am scared #okay i hate all the men in this but Shibe is kinda funny sometimes ill forgive him just a tiny little bit for being dumb #ahah i am so scared what the fuck is happening aha #tomodachi game spoiler #tomodachi game #manga

[damienthepious]

ah shit we broke 50k on this beast. happy Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Scattered on my Shore (Chapter 12)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [ao3] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [Ch 19]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol)

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Damien and Arum, Arum and Damien, and Rilla- Rilla is having a difficult evening.

Chapter Notes: Yesterday was the one year anniversary of the day I first started writing Penumbra fic. Oh, how time flies. Oof. Also. Hm. I've been mentally calling this the emotional whiplash chapter. Be gentle with yourself? Warnings for blood, violence, fighting, canon-typical deception, canon-typical monstrous horrors and canon-typical monster-horror deaths, including some upsetting imagery that I wrote at like two a m and then was a little perturbed by the next morning. Uh. I think that's everything? I swear this fic is soft sometimes.

~

Rilla still tastes sticky pink at the back of her sinuses, reeking strange but somehow vaguely sweet, and Tal's voice calls out through the jungle. Tal's voice is not the only noise, though. There is crashing, tree limbs cracking, shouting and roaring and rattling that makes Rilla's stomach twist with familiarity she doesn't want to place.

She clings to Marc's shoulders as Dampierre runs them towards his brother's voice. She catalogs symptoms, catalogs coincidences in the back of her mind, and she hopes that the twinge of instinctive terror in her gut is wrong.

~

Time sighs past them, tortuously slow, and Arum is beginning to suspect that the knight is deliberately attempting to drive him out of his skull. Eventually Arum's thin patience snaps, and he sits up straight in the bed, tail thrashing as he scowls.

"Must you do that?"

Damien doesn't seem to hear him. He paces in a tight circle on the other side of the room, seemingly unaware of the book still clutched tightly in his hands, unaware that his knuckles are going pale with that tightness. "Saint Damien above, please," he murmurs to himself, for perhaps the eighteenth time, "oh I cannot lose her, I cannot- how can I remain here, still and unharmed while she flies towards danger with a smile, my Saint? How can I endure the torturous burden of safety while my beloved could be in any peril, any peril at all? Perils unknown! Perils unknowable, teeming in the dark of night, and with my forever-flower accompanied by so untrustworthy a companion-"

"Songbird, honestly, the squawking-"

"The Salamander, of all companions, and I must remain behind, must either leave her unprotected- or precariously protected, at the very best, or else I shall break my word to her! To act otherwise would be to break not only the bond of my word, but to break her heart in the same moment-"

Arum barks a laugh. "Oh please, honeysuckle. I do not think Amaryllis' heart is quite so fragile as that." He snorts. "Not quite so fragile as yours, that is, always aching and cracking within you."

Damien pauses his pacing, then shoots the monster a scathing look. "What business have you, beast, in discussing either of our hearts?"

"You certainly won't shut up about it in earshot," Arum growls. "Forgive me for misconstruing a conversation out of your ceaseless heartsick blather."

"I would not expect a monster to understand the value of prayer, Lord Arum," Damien says through his teeth. "Nor the ache of love."

Arum opens his mouth, meaning give a biting retort, and then he remembers Amarayllis' eyes, and how soft they were when she asked-

He closes his mouth again, sighing, and Damien eyes him suspiciously for a few moments before he resumes his pacing, resumes his muttering.

The poet's heart speeds again as the minutes continue to pass, his breaths growing more shallow. Arum does not know what else he is meant to focus on, besides Sir Damien slowly twisting himself to pieces. His words are running so fast that they have begun to bleed together, almost too panicked for Arum to parse into individual thoughts, and when Damien chokes on a breath and his eyes go bright Arum cannot keep his mouth closed another moment longer.

"You are not helping, Damien," he says, and the knight turns towards him, his lips curling in something that could have been a scowl, if he did not look so otherwise distressed. "If your prayer has value, so be it, but it does not appear that it is doing anything at this moment beside causing you to pull your own feathers out. Stop- stop thrashing about and find another thought to worry on. Threaten me again. That certainly seemed to amuse you, before."

Damien startles, oddly, somewhere in the middle of Arum's words, and then he goes still. "I…" he pauses, coughs. "I suppose… I suppose I have been- twisting and drowning in the mire of this misery for far too long," he mutters, pressing his hand over his mouth. "Tranquility is… so terribly far from me, this night," he says, even more quietly, more to himself than anything.

"Amaryllis is clever and ferocious. I very much doubt she would bolt off in foolishness at the risk of her own neck. Do you imagine that she would wish for you to drive the both of us to madness in your worry? If your words are not helping, find other words, or other action. Do something useful, honeysuckle. If you continue as you are, you will simply distress yourself further." He pauses. "And continue to give me a headache."

"Something useful," Damien echoes, his gaze distant. "What … I cannot compose in this state. I cannot- I do not know what to do. I am…"

Enough tension pulls at the poet's frame that he looks as if he may crack in two.

Arum sighs. "Here," he says quietly. "Give me that book, at least. Before you go ahead and snap its spine in your little talons."

Damien looks at his own hands, then, as if he had forgotten that they existed entirely, his grip on the book finally loosening. "Ah-"

"Amaryllis was going to share the notes with me anyway. I may as well begin work on my translation. Perhaps I can have a page or two to share with her when she returns."

"When she returns," Damien whispers. "When she returns. Yes. Of course, when she-" he shudders out a breath, and then he steps close enough to Arum to pass the journal to him.

The leather of the binding feels warm from Damien's hands, and Arum brushes his thumb over the label on the cover, written in Amaryllis' impatient but neat scrawl. "Excellent," he says, because he does not wish to say thank you. "Now, perhaps you should check the food, as she asked, honeysuckle. Perhaps it will be easier to calm yourself if you have a moment where you need not share the room with so foul a beast as I."

Damien opens his mouth, his cheeks darkening, and then he snaps his jaw shut again, looking away. "The food. Yes," he murmurs, and then the poet retreats.

When Damien leaves the room Arum leans back, sighing and allowing himself his own moment of worry.

A couple hours. Amaryllis is- Arum's words were in no way false, she is both clever and ferocious, and he does not know this other human she has gone into the wilds with, but he cannot imagine that she would trust her protection to someone unworthy of that honor. This is her home. Certainly she knows the territory that surrounds it. Certainly she will be in no danger at all.

Certainly.

He composes himself before Damien returns with their meal, and Damien is tense and stiff but he finishes his bowl without another muttering collapse, which Arum is learning is as close to a success as he is likely to manage. He resumes his translation, then, poring over the thin botanical tome and trying not to notice as Damien's heart gradually begins to race again.

The poet straightens, suddenly, standing from his lean against the counter, and then without a word he goes back out to the front room again, leaving Arum watching his back in alarm. When he returns he is clutching what appears to be- his bow, his armor, his quiver and packs and all manner of miscellany. Damien crouches to drop the lot of it on the floor, somewhat close to Arum's bed, and then he sinks to sit beside the pile, pulling his bow out first and examining it with keen, narrowed eyes.

"What are you up to now, honeysuckle?" Arum asks, lowering the books in his hands.

"Something useful, I hope," Damien warbles in response. "I have been meaning to restring my bow for weeks, now. I cannot do much else, at the moment, so I may as well perform the tasks I have been delaying in favor of more pressing matters, as I am being currently pressed to stillness instead."

Arum certainly cannot complain about that. Damien's expression has gone focused, poised, as he carefully and skillfully bends his bow into the proper position for him to remove the current (apparently unsatisfactory) string. Arum eyes the rest of the pile curiously, observing the well-battered armor, the quiver which looks both old and loved, patched with many careful mendings.

Arum narrows his eyes at the rest of Damien's packs as the knight carefully begins the process of restringing his bow, and a small plain leather sheath catches his attention. He reaches with his tail to pull it out from the rest, lifting it to take into his hands, setting Amaryllis' book and its translation aside on the sheets for a moment.

"Hrm…" Arum notes that this leather is vaguely tattered, but not mended with care as the quiver is. He slips the knife out, and Damien turns towards him and tenses at the edge of his vision but Arum is far too distracted to care because- "Honeysuckle, have you no respect at all for your weaponry? I understand that you favor your bow but-" he turns the blade in the light, noting the dullness of the edge, the light speckling of rust across the metal. "This is a travesty. It is dull as a branch and it looks as if it went swimming with you. You would be more likely to harm yourself with this mistreated thing than any enemy." He growls low, scraping his claw along the edge of the blade, bringing it closer to his snout to inspect more closely, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Careless. Negligent. You must have a whetstone somewhere, oils and the like, honeysuckle. Bring them here this instant and I will give this little blade the care it has been denied."

Arum continues to turn the blade close in front of his eye, and it takes him a long moment to realize that Damien has not moved. Arum blinks, shaking his head, and then he looks over the metal and Damien meets his eye, his seated stance tense, his hands on his bow gone slack and his eyes bright with worry and with- something else Arum cannot interpret.

Arum frowns, unsure for a long moment precisely what the issue is, before he realizes-

A knife in his hands. An armed monster, and a knight with his bow unstrung.

Of course.

Arum looks away from Damien, his breath rattling in discomfort, and his hands flex against the hilt of the blade. He inhales around the strange weight in his chest, and then he hisses the breath back out through his teeth. "Don't be foolish, honeysuckle," he manages in a growl. "What could I do with this wretched knife that I could not do with my claws already? If I wanted to hurt you, there would be cleverer ways than this. Bring me the tools. I do not care to watch you oil and polish and spoil your favored toy over there while this little edge remains in disrepair. Besides," he gives a short, stilted laugh, "a dull knife is far, far more dangerous than the alternative. I will protect you from your own negligence, have no fear."

Arum does not look back towards Damien, so he does not see whatever expression it is that the poet wears as he stares for another long moment. He manages not to look when he hears Damien rise to stand, as well, though when the knight leaves the room he cannot keep his shoulders from sagging.

Damien does not have the first clue what Arum is capable of, with any sort of blade. Damien does not have the first clue what Arum is capable of at all. But obviously, obviously the knight's instincts are sound. He is more correct than even he knows.

Damien returns, and without a word he hands Arum the requested tools, and then he goes to resume his own tasks.

Without a word, Arum turns the blade in his hands, and then he begins the slow, gentle work of restoring it to its proper sharpness, and shine.

 ~

The false Rattlepanther is a puddle of melted spores behind them, and Dampierre bursts out from a tangle of bramble and glossy leaves. Their entrance into the clearing scatters the thick pink mist enough that Rilla sees the source of the noises immediately, the shouting, the fighting-

Damien and Arum, trying to kill each other in the mud, just beneath the enormous thumping threat of the Numb-Cap.

They're both bloody already. The bandages on Arum's midsection are soaked through with red beneath the dirty brown, his frill is worse off, even, than it had been when she found him in the first place, and Damien- Damien's arms are totally sliced up, obvious claw wounds, and there is a similar gash across one cheek, too, bleeding brightly over his chin and down his neck as they grapple with each other, their legs caught tight together in the sticky grip of a writhing pink slime mold beneath them.

"Damien! Damien stop-"

They do not pull away from each other, but both of them glance towards her for a moment as she leaps down from the saddle, Arum with his teeth bared and bloody, Damien with his eyes flat and hard and blank.

"Of course," Damien says in a cold murmur. "Of course. I begin to doubt and- and you, my precious flower, you come like dawn to show me my true path. To remind me of my duty. This creature has twisted your mind, has pulled your heart from me-"

Her heart plunges like a stone, actually, at the accusation. "Damien, that's not-"

"Has upset the order of our very lives. It is for you, my love, that I must kill this monster. I must slay this beast."

"If you even can, you boasting little fool-"

"Don't! Stop! Just- don't do anything, I'm coming over there and-"

"Rilla, wait-" Marc grabs her shoulder, and Rilla fights back an urge to smack him. "Remember how it was with Talfryn. They're knee-deep in slime, and for all we know they could be more of those spore illusion things, right?"

"I-" Rilla looks back towards them, and then she meets Marc's eyes. "I don't know. I don't know if- I don't know why they would-"

"If you go over there you're gonna get stuck in it too," he says, and Rilla grits her teeth together tight.

"If they're real they're going to kill each other!"

Marc's brow furrows, but he shakes his head. "So what do we do, then? Maybe we can pull Damien out, but that monster's not gonna make it easy, and we gotta do that without getting sucked in in the meantime."

"I know, I know," Rilla chokes, her mind spinning in helpless circles as Damien and Arum fight. "I just- I'm thinking, I'll-"

"Do you think they're real?" Marc presses, squeezing her shoulder, and Rilla looks up at him for a moment before she looks back towards the grappling pair. "Talfryn- those things he said. All of that- it was on my mind today. Would Damien fighting a monster like this, would that have been on your mind today? Or- is there any chance Damien would even be out here?"

She and Marc have been turned around enough- Rilla doesn't even know how far they are from the hut, anymore. Could Damien and Arum actually be out here? Is that possible? Rilla doesn't have a clue. Possible or not, though-

Real or not. Rilla's heart is pounding and pounding and pounding. Louder than the Numb-Cap. Twice as fast, too. Damien and Arum trying to kill each other- would they? Would they really, or is Rilla just so scared, does the idea hurt her so much-

Arum isn't evil. Arum wouldn't hurt her. She knows that. She's been hoping that Arum not hurting her would extend to Damien, too, but- but Damien still thinks-

Rilla can't even tell who's winning. Damien's bowstring is snapped, it looks like he's just trying to stab Arum with one of his arrows instead, and Arum is holding him back from completing the strike with two clawed hands digging into his wrists, his other hands swiping towards Damien's stomach.

"Stop!" Marc's hand on her shoulder is the only thing that keeps her from bolting towards him. "Saints- stop it! Stop fighting! You're going to kill each other-"

"I will slay this beast," Damien snarls, his muscles straining as he twists, barely avoiding the claws and barely having his own strike held off. "I must do my duty-"

"Get on with it, then, honeysuckle," Arum snarls, claws drawing blood at his wrists, and Damien cries out-

"Arum!"

"I told you, Amaryllis. I warned you that you would not be able to collar him-"

"Be silent, beast," Damien shouts, wrenching his arms back from Arum's resisting hands, "and die-"

Damien's hands bring the arrow down, and Arum's hands swing his claws up-

And Rilla isn't even sure which terrifies her more.

Damien plunges the arrow into Arum's shoulder and he gives a pained, gasping snarl that stretches into almost a howl, and at the same moment Arum's claws find Damien's ribs, making him scream.

Rilla could scream too. She can- she knows- the angle of the arrow, the depth of Arum's claws, she can still fix them, both of them, she can still make this okay if she can get them away from each other-

If they're real.

Arum digs his claws in, twisting his wrists. Damien shouts, and grits his teeth, and pushes the arrow deeper, and behind them, the Numb-Cap beats like a giant exposed heart.

Rilla takes a breath. She digs her hand into the satchels at her belt.

"Step back, Dampierre," she says, and as the horse moves she moves with him, until they are just barely far enough, and then she throws the explosive.

It catches quickly. The slime mold races with fire as if it is soaked with oil, and the fighting figures are caught within it, so-

They burn beneath the mushroom, screaming and writhing, and Arum does not pull his claws from Damien, and Damien does not release his grip on the arrow. Not even when the both of them melt and pop into a flurry of burning spores, as the Numb-Cap's horrible beating heart finally scorches out.

Death grip, Rilla thinks grimly, and then she leans heavy against Dampierre.

She guessed right. It wasn't them. She didn't kill them.

The light of the flames is still burnt into the back of her eyes, two twisting silhouettes, intertwined.

She guessed right.

That doesn't make her feel better. Not at all.

~

"There," Arum says softly, and Damien, who has long since finished with his bow and has now resorted to rearranging the entire contents of his traveling packs, looks up.

"There?"

"It has been treated as well as possible, with the tools provided. I hope it shall not be so neglected again."

He holds the knife out between them, then, hilt first, and Damien-

Damien stands, slowly, and steps close enough to reach out and take the blade back.

Arum drops his hand and his gaze once the knife is in Damien's hands. Damien lifts it closer, inspecting, and-

It is beautiful. Arum even polished the hilt, even cleaned the grit from the engravings. Damien can see the surprise in his own eyes reflected in the new shine of the metal, and he can tell when he tests it against his thumb that it is sharper, perhaps, than it has ever been.

"It is nearly as sharp and dangerous as I am, now," Arum hisses low with a flick of the tongue, and something about his tone coils in Damien's stomach, and his breath catches and his fingers twitch and-

"Ah!"

Damien only barely manages not to drop the blade, though he has run the curved tip across his palm, below his thumb, pulling open a shallow red line.

"Honeysuckle-" Arum sits up straighter, his tongue darting in the air again, and then his brow furrows deep. "Foolish creature. I sharpened it. Did you not think it would then be sharp? "

"My- my hand slipped, Arum, I assure you it was not some intentional testing of your word. Ah, ah-"

Arum slips from the sheets, rolling unsteadily to his feet. "Let me see- ah, not too terribly deep, then." He reaches a hand out, taking the blade back, and then he pushes Damien so that he stumbles to sit on the bed instead. Damien makes an instinctive noise in protest, but Arum narrows his eyes sternly. "Sit, you delicate little songbird." He turns away then, limping to the counter and then reaching to rummage through the cabinets, grumbling to himself as he goes.

"Arum, I-"

"Hush. I have seen the doctor work enough that I believe I can manage so small a wound as this." He returns with disinfectant and a roll of bandages, and when Damien opens his mouth to protest again he scowls. "I should certainly love to see you attempt to apply all of this one handed, honeysuckle. It was my efforts that you managed to damage yourself upon, allow me to fix it so you may not lay this blame on me as well."

Damien feels his cheeks darkening as Arum kneels heavily beside the bed, and then he takes Damien's hands in his own with an inarguable sort of gentleness, turning his palm upwards and hissing low. His eyes glitter as he examines the injury, as he begins to treat it.

Lord Arum does not work with the same smiling sort of care that his Rilla does, but he is efficient and attentive, even as he growls under his breath. When he slices through the bandage with a claw to separate it from the roll, Damien's pulse jumps oddly, his breath catching, and Arum meets his eye for a moment.

"Careless little honeysuckle," he murmurs as he finishes the wrapping. Then he draws his claws over the white of the bandages on Damien’s palm with a delicacy that makes Damien's skin race with something that feels like lightning. "If I did not know any better, I would think you were trying to have your petals plucked…"

Damien feels heat rush through him like a furnace door thrown open at his back, his hand flexing in Arum's grasp. "I… Lord Arum, I…" he pauses, and Arum's eyes are so vivid, so strange. "Th-thank you."

Arum blinks, and then his vivid eyes drop. He releases Damien's hand, then shifts to grip the bed so he can pull himself to stand. "Don't thank me," he mutters, his tone so entirely blank after the strange warmth that came before. "It was my sharpness that cut you. I was simply ensuring that you would have no evidence to throw in Amaryllis' face to push further towards my death, little knight."

The coldness of the words pushes Damien to stand, far more than Arum climbing back into the bed does.

"Arum-"

"What?" Arum is already curled onto his side atop the blankets, already turned away, but he shoots Damien an irritable look over his shoulder. “What, knight?”

Damien feels his mouth hanging open. His eyes draw slow along the strange, elegant curves of Arum's snout, his teeth, his horns, but he cannot find the right words.

The pause hangs too long, and Arum drops his eyes with a sigh, rolling to face away.

Damien feels his heart, thudding like a stranger at the door. He lifts his bandaged hand, cupping it to his chest, and he feels the wound pulse too, with each unceasing beat.

~

The jungle is darker, after all that fire, and there is a glass jar rattling heavy (in metaphorical weight) in Rilla's pocket, and Rilla has enough Numb-Cap to make Marc's medicine for years, now, and she's so tired that she feels like she could collapse. And Marc-

"So… Rilla… do you want to-"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"You were gonna ask again if I wanna talk about it, and I don't, Marc."

"But, Rilla-"

Rilla scowls and starts walking faster, pulling ahead of Marc and Dampierre for a moment or two.

"Rilla! C'mon, don't- don't be like that. You can't honestly expect me not to be worried! That- that whole thing-"

"We handled it, Marc. It's done with."

"We did and don't get me wrong, any adventure with that many explosions is gonna wind up featured prominently in my memoirs, but seriously, what the hell was that?"

"A bunch of big, gross, mutated fungi with shitty magic metaphor powers," she gripes, but Marc pulls Dampierre in front of her, making her stumble to a scowling stop. "Marc. I want to go home, finish your pills, and go to sleep."

"You know that's not what I meant, Rilla." He stares down at her, his eyebrows furrowed with uncharacteristic gravity. "That fake-monster that fake-Damien was trying to kill. You called it by name, Rilla."

Rilla's muscles tense. She hadn't- she didn't realize that-

"If you're doing something dangerous- we're family, Rilla. I just want to know that you're safe, okay? It's been … things have been dangerous, lately. More dangerous than normal, I mean. The monsters have been pulling stuff like that fungus, you know? Stuff that gets in your head, uses your fears against you, turns you against each other, and I just- I know you won't take a break from your work, but I need to know that you're at least looking out for yourself."

"I'm looking out for myself, Marc," she grits out through her teeth, and then she pushes her way around Dampierre. They're close enough to the hut that she can see the light through the underbrush, and she just doesn't have the energy-

"I'm just- c'mon, I'm not being unfair here, I know I'm not," he says, trotting after her again. "Just tell me why you seemed just as freaked out about Damien hurting that lizard as you did about it going the other way, Rilla, because I just can't-"

She spins back, scowling. "Drop it, Marc!"

"Just give me something to go on, here! Give me something that lets me know you aren't doing something illegal and dangerous again, because right now I'm scared that the next time you get caught red handed, they're gonna skip the exile and go straight for execution!"

Rilla's breath catches. "I- I-"

"Rilla," Marc says. "Please. You know that I love you. You gotta talk to me, because if things have gone so wrong that I'm the one worrying about you? We're breaking the natural order of the universe, here. Water's gonna start flowing uphill next thing you know."

A laugh pushes past her panic, choking but sincere. She hesitates, then steps closer to Marc again, reaching a hand to rub Dampierre's ear as she meets Marc's eye.

"I love you too," she says, first, and then she sighs. "I wish I could explain, Marc, I really, really do, but- but I don't know how to. You just have to trust me. You have to trust that I know what I'm doing."

"You say that even when you don't know what you're doing, though," he points out, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well." She shakes her head. "This time I mean it, okay? Look, just- I didn't know for sure that they were fake when I burned them, Marc. I had a solid theory, but I didn't know, and I still did it because I knew it was the right thing to do. Because I knew Damien would rather burn than kill himself with guilt, and because I knew if I was wrong about A-" she stumbles. "About the monster, if he would hurt Damien or anyone else, it would be my fault. So- so I burned them."

"Rilla…"

"You have to trust me," she repeats. "I know that I'm right. That I'm doing the right thing. But- but if the evidence doesn't bear that out, I'll … I'll face those consequences. I'll deal with the situation. I'll fix it."

Marc's frown eases, just slightly, and after a moment he sighs, reaching out to pat the back of her hand. "Alright, Rilla. Okay. Just… be careful? And- and just- let me know, y’know? If you need help, if- if things get out of hand."

Rilla sighs, too tired to bristle properly at the suggestion that she might need help, and then she nods. "I know, Marc. I will. Now c'mon, we're almost there, and I still gotta make your medicine."

~

They hear Rilla come in through the closed exam room door, and she calls out very clearly to Marc through the outer door before they hear her pull the window open so she can continue to talk to him as she starts to mix her ingredients together.

It takes about an hour, all told, and Damien does not relax that entire time. From the way Arum keeps forgetting himself and growling low, from the way his tail continues to flick and thrash, neither does the monster. Eventually, though, Rilla passes some quiet words to Marc, and then she finally, finally closes the window again. Even through the door Damien can hear Rilla sigh so deeply it makes Damien's heart pull, her exhaustion a physical sort of pain within him.

Once he hears the hoofbeats fade away from the hut, Damien pulls the door of the exam room open and Rilla is already standing just outside, her legs muddy to the knee, her hair pulling from her braid and clouding around her, her eyes bright, and she looks at him and then over his shoulder at Arum and then her shoulders sag and her face splits with such relief that it looks as if it may crumple her.

Damien takes her into his arms instantly, without thought, guiding her back out into the front room. "Rilla, my dearest, my Amaryllis, you aren't hurt, are you?"

"No. I promise, I'm not, I just-"

"What happened?"

"Monster mushrooms, basically," she mumbles, shrugging, and Damien tries not to feel it like ice in his guts, his failure to protect her. "We- we dealt with it."

He inhales, exhales, prays for a silent moment, and then he asks, "And you are certain that you were not hurt?"

"I'm just-" her voice is too thick, but she gives a laugh through it, waving a hand in the air and pushing her hair out of her face. "Tired, that's all. I'm just- exhausted and covered in gross fungus slime and- and I've got about a thousand sticks caught in my hair, and- and- and I'm glad," she laughs again, a little wild. "I'm glad you didn't f-fight, while I was gone."

"Of course not," Damien says, as soft as he can manage, and then he pulls her closer, squeezing tight for just a moment before he spins, turning her as if they're dancing for only a breath. She chokes a surprised laugh against him as he gently maneuvers her to sit by the table, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Now. I can help with at least one of your dilemmas, my love. Let me fetch a brush, and I will at least help you comb the jungle from your hair before we sleep."

She inhales a shaky breath, then nods. "Alright. I'm- I'm not gonna argue if you wanna- if you wanna spoil me a bit," she murmurs weakly.

"Always," he murmurs through a smile, "I always do." He kisses her temple again before he straightens to go fetch the comb.

When he returns, Arum is in the doorway of his room, peering out at the herbalist with obvious concern, leaning heavily on his crutch.

"You are- not injured?"

Rilla sighs, and that more than anything assures Damien that her exhaustion is no small thing. Ordinarily, she would at least scowl at having that question asked of her a third time.

"Merely weary, she assures me," Damien says, and Arum flicks his eyes towards the knight for a moment before he frowns, and then nods. The monster watches as Damien steps close again, sinking to sit behind Rilla so he may take the tie from her hair, and slowly begin to comb out the tangles, the leaves and- and bits of ash that seem to have stuck there.

She sighs again, deep and tired, leaning back into Damien's hands, and he slowly, soothingly, quietly combs out her hair. He's nearly forgotten Arum watching them by the time the monster slowly crosses the room, sinking to sit at the other end of the table, watching with suspicious, curious eyes. When Damien is finished, when he has managed the worst of the tangles and brushed out the soot and debris, he sighs, and then he starts to separate out the sections to pull her hair into a new braid, but-

"Ah. Hm."

His hand. The hurt is almost entirely dulled, by now, but the placement of the cut and the resulting placement of the bandages make it so he cannot quite bend his thumb in the way he needs to. Rilla glances over her shoulder, blinking at him muzzily, and then she finally seems to notice the injury herself, sucking in a startled breath.

"Damien, what- what happened? " She pulls his hand into her own, her thumbs gentle on his skin, and over her head Damien watches as Arum cringes, drawing his shoulders up towards his chin, clearly expecting-

"Simply a cut, love. I was going through my packs, and I was careless, and I cut myself. I assure you I am fine."

She frowns, and then she shoots him a look. "This bandaging is too neat. You didn't do this."

Brilliant, Damien thinks helplessly, his heart pooling with bright, sparking love. "No," he says. "It would have been too difficult, of course, with only the one hand. Lord Arum was… generous enough to assist."

Lord Arum hisses under his breath at the mention, his frill raising and his face turned decidedly away from the both of them, now, hidden by the folds.

"He was, huh?" Rilla says, and her amusement manages to push through the layer of exhaustion that hangs upon her. Amusement, and a clear note of fondness, as well. "Well…" she pauses, gently turning Damien's hand in her own, biting her lip. "I… my hands are a little… shaky, at the moment. Maybe he'd wanna be generous again, just for a second?"

Arum freezes, and then his frill presses to his neck and he glances towards the pair of them with a look of alarm.

"Wh- what do you mean? What do you want?"

Rilla ducks her head, and then she glances up at the monster and Damien knows what she means, even if Arum does not.

Damien feels, perhaps, that he should be… concerned, at the very least. Disgusted, perhaps. But…

"Do you… do you know how to braid, Lord Arum?" he asks, tilting his head, and Arum blinks, and then scowls.

"Of course I do. Don't ask foolish questions."

"Would you… perhaps… would you help me to braid Rilla's hair, again? With my hand…" Damien frowns gently at himself, and he fully expects the monster to snap, to laugh, to bolt.

Arum stares, his violet eyes wide and stunned, and then he drops his gaze, pulling his hands close to wring awkwardly in front of himself for a moment before he seems to become aware of what he is doing, and then without answering he- he crawls closer, bringing himself beside Damien and stubbornly not looking at Rilla as she smiles, breathing a soft laugh.

"Fine. Helpless little thing. Move aside, will you?"

Damien shifts, moving to sit beside Rilla instead, and then he gestures for Arum to take his place, and the monster does so with a graceless grumble. Rilla exhales, her eyes closing again as three of Arum's hands (the fourth, his broken wrist, apparently not quite dexterous enough for the task just yet) sink into Rilla's hair, parting and sectioning it off before he starts to weave an elegant braid slowly down.

Arum's shoulders are stiff, at first, but Rilla is quiet in front of him and the monster seems to ease into the pattern of the motions, eventually, and Damien is quiet as well as he watches, the movements of Arum's scaled hands almost hypnotic in their rhythmic consistency.

Rilla falls asleep before he is halfway done. Damien thinks that Arum notices that this has happened as well, considering the way that his motions grow slower and more careful as his claws carefully twine her hair together. When he reaches the last few inches, Damien passes him the little leather band for him to tie at the bottom of the braid. Damien tilts his head to better see the rippling whole of it, a complex and beautiful weave, even if it was only done with three of the monster's four hands. Damien is unsure if he could replicate it with only his two. He finds himself wondering what sorts of complexities they could create if he and Arum were both to…

Arum is staring at the braid as well, and he lifts a hand as if to drift it down the softness of Rilla's hair, but he stops himself just before he makes contact. He pulls his hand back to his chest, clutching the scales just over his heart, and Damien feels his own heart skip, oddly.

Arum glances towards him then, his tongue flicking.

"What… ah… she has-" he pauses, hissing a low, concerned noise. "Amaryllis is sleeping on my legs, honeysuckle. What- what- what do I do?"

Damien barely manages to muffle his laugh so that it does not bubble bright and loud. He does not wish to wake her, if he can help it, but it is- ridiculous, utterly absurd, for Lord Arum to be so thoroughly trapped merely because he does not wish to wake Rilla. Damien has some degree of practice in this arena, however.

"Just be still for one moment, Lord Arum," Damien murmurs, and then he comes closer, eyeing the both of them and taking a moment to determine his approach. He leans down, slipping one arm beneath Rilla's knees, the other behind her back. It is impossible not to touch Lord Arum in this, too, since she is leaning back against the monster, and his scales are cool and strange against Damien's arm. Arum hisses low at the contact, and his chest is rumbling in a way that vibrates against Damien's skin. Damien tries not to notice. Tries not to feel the way the contact makes his stomach twist, the odd contrast of Rilla's gentle warmth in his arms beside Arum's coolness, and then he carefully, carefully lifts.

Rilla, safe in his arms, her head slumping to rest against his shoulder with her monster-woven braid rippling down her back, and Arum stares up at the both of them with his head tilted, his expression focused and wary, and Damien smiles without meaning to.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and Arum scowls but does not deflect this time, and Damien drops his gaze from the monster as he carefully carries Rilla to the bedroom.

When he reaches the doorway, however, he hesitates, and then he glances back towards Arum, still sat amongst the cushions by the table.

"Can… can you manage back to your room on your own?" Damien asks, after a pause, and Arum looks away.

"In a few minutes, perhaps," he mutters. "I believe the doctor put my legs to sleep along with herself."

Damien stifles another laugh, pressing his lips softly to Rilla's hair to hide his smile. He hesitates again, but then-

"When I have settled her… I will come help you to your feet again, at least," he murmurs.

Arum blinks, his thin lips parting in surprise, but Damien simply nods and carries Rilla into her room, before Arum can thank him. Before Damien can memorize that precise look, flustered surprise shaping Arum's inhuman face.

[->]

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #scattered on my shore #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile

[benefits1986]

Year 7: Final Year Na Ba Talaga?

Today, I was greeted by the watch mom gifted me with before she passed on 7 years ago. Nakakatakot. Pota. Pero it made me smile inside out. Well, after shaking my head, that is. Tomorrow is her birthday in heaven and nagpapaganaps na naman siya in her own way and style. I guess it’s one of the reasons why I hate to love and love to hate my home in Manila. It is filled with too many memories of my life’s most defining chapter.  Funny how mom never fails to let me know that while I seem to be so crappy with how I deal with my life after she passed on, she reassures me that no matter what, it’s toward the right direction. Ako lang ‘tong takot sumabak at pabebe in a way na I’d rather keep my comfort zone than to be the palovean wander and wonder girl that I am all these years. By wonder pala, I mean, laging out there for adventure and always has a hefty dose of curiosity.  The past months have been particularly interesting, the most interesting parts of my life, no matter how sedated and boring and “downgrade-worthy” they appear. The past months have been spent in Palawan then back to Manila mostly with my dogs as I prune my seven years of being stuck in a really, really bad cycle of denying myself of the bucket list that I try to postpone just because I’ve already been on a track where I’ve done more than I can inspite failing many, many times miserably.  For someone who’s strategic and really, really aware of compartmentalizing my emotions to the point of concealing them very, very cleverly and artistically, admitting that I need to take a huge step back is extremely death-defying. Notice that I use the word death-defying because for such a long time, I have denied vulnerability in order to survive a life without purpose --that is a life without my mom.  Looking back, all the doors that opened no matter how promising did not make sense. I thought back then that I do not deserve them. I thought that I am not worthy mainly because I dream dreams that have turned to realities when I lost my mom. I took so much of me even when there’s not much left of me without anyone else knowing how fucked up I am because, hey, ego over heartbreaks, right? Back then, I severely punished myself because I felt alone and cheated. Even when people tell me that I am doing a decent job or even a good one, I felt so small and so insignificant. It is because of this immense blow that I found myself OD-ing on work. Yes, work that I am kind of decent with but something that I vehemently disapprove of. I figured that every time I spent away from my family is a step toward proving something to myself --a world where my mom’s memories cease to exist, or so I thought. 

Every deadline, every goal met, every KPI delivered felt addictive. And so, it progressed to higher dosages as I found myself more unhappy, more unstable and heck, even more miserable, after the high wears off. It’s for this reason that I seem to be a weirdo when I say I hate my world and most especially my work but I keep showing up never mind the fuck ups I cause along with the chaos that is part of my strategic and creative process. Hah. So much for shit, yes? And then it progressed even more. I wanted to turn back time because I felt my mom betrayed me, hence I moved to a bigger organization in the hopes of getting into an even bigger world I denied myself of before graduation --a world where I know is tough and will eventually corrupt me, but, hell, yeah, a world that I’ve been dreaming of just because I felt that I can finally prove to my mom of all people that I’ve made it big without her help, without her approval, and without her, at all. Twisted to the core, but back then, I don’t give a shit. Really. And being the go-getter girl that I am, I managed to wiggle my way to the bigger world where I finally got face to face with even bigger matters that made the already problematic plot even thicker. The OD on work topped with a brimming social calendar and the thirst to get to the even bigger world got the best of me. I don’t even know if it’s considered the best of me when I am an autopilot mode each day because the high no longer mattered, literally and figuratively. I somehow managed to theorize that it may be because I am getting old and that YOLO is no longer part of my vocab nor my mantra. Wrong. I was beginning to see the perils of OD-ing on things that do not make me breathe and live anymore. That’s when I started thinking more and more and more and more about killing myself without anyone knowing it. Hah. That’s how fucked up I was. My reason was not that nobody loved me nor valued me. I simply wanted things to end because it’s no longer worth wasting time on. I felt that my breaths are not mine. I felt that I am taking up too much space in this already densely populated planet. And most of all, I’d like to take my chances if there’s indeed a world after this world. In short, I missed my mom and I wanted to be with her. Simple as that. No fancy shmancy shit that involves family or friends who did not look after me or watched over me. No lack of love life or dating or flirting. No loneliness. No shadows of the past. Just plain old “thank-u-next” life kind of vibe. And so, one fine day, I met a car accident, my first to be specific. And, guess what? It was a total car wreck. 

Though the car may look decent enough, thing is it’s matic, hence, the car insurance company declared that I’d rather be given a full damage claim rather than fix it. Imagine. My first ever car accident was a total car wreck. How awesome is that, ain’t it? I can never forget that day where I chose to OD once more on work. Hah. This bitch ain’t giving up back in those days. Showed up to work at 11:30 am and ended my day at around 5 am. Had decent performance that day because I was able to swing a bigwig meeting with the board of directors and our CEO and our seniors PLUS handled a trending event with co-workers while drinking and doing shamncy live social media reportage. Little did I know though that this particular OD will cause me to lose control that I thought I had all these years. You see my adrenaline is on its A-game all my life even when I lost my mom. I remember asking Manila Memorial and Trinity in the calmest and collected style if they offer 0% on credit card payments for their services. Also, I slept like a baby an hour after mom died. See? Adrenaline A-game, bitches! 

However, because I was on OD with something that kills me without me knowing it, I felt my ground shake that very early morning after my car wreck. I felt my body shut down as I quivered and felt cold sweat. Another first. I felt the pain of the whiplash I was not aware of, hence, I was shook thinking I might have unknowingly gotten a fracture. And oh, after drinking and smoking like a crazy AF kid, I discovered I had a lump on my forehead and that lump was quite big and throbbing. All these while I succumb to hailing a cab because Grab drivers think my location is out of their bounds. I cried in the cab and thank you, universe, for the driver whose face I can no longer remember. He simply assured me that everything will be okay and that I just needed to rest and calm down. He even shared that car accidents ought to be traumatic and that eventually, I’d be back on the road because I should not be intimidated by these normal occurrences. At that moment, I felt like he was Rafiki in The Lion King and that The Circle of Life is playing in the background. And I was this fucked up young Simba gone adult. 

Things seemed to be back to regular programming, inside I began to see I was rotting. I began to question why I’ve been living in a material world that I totally believe to be immaterial. I began to feel the pull all the emotional shutdowns are causing my physical stance. I began getting sick to the point that the heartburns would not allow me to get up from my bed. Flashbacks of the car wreck became random thoughts even when I try my best to go back to OD-ing with work again. And then, a glorious system failure happen. I missed deadlines. I learned the realities of this world -the small, the big and the bigger worlds. I began to see that this world that feeds me is the same world that would kill me before I know it. And that now that I finally know that this world is killing me, I am pretty much veering toward shutting it down for my sanity. Problem is I don’t want to. Problem is I choose not to know how to. Problem is I already built a life that I can’t sustain without this world. Problem is I keep making excuses because, heck, yeah. I am that strategic girl, right?  And so, I came back to a place where my dreams turned nightmares began. I somehow convinced myself that my dreams in this bubble were dreams that not only belonged to me, but were part of a grander purpose, something bigger than who I am and who I thought I am. So, after trying it out with all that I can, the OD-ing were no longer enough. I found myself in a very, very dark place that is ultimately hollow. Imagine. Dark and hollow in one go. Shit gets more and more real. I thought that if I have a dream with a dream team, things would be better and that eventually, I’d be back to regular programming. But, dreams turned realities are usually more messed up because they go beyond deadlines. They fuck up with your lifelines, big time. 

Months later, the OD-ing pulled me to a place where there is absolutely nothing except me, myself and I. Again, nobody knows this back then because I am that strategic and creative critter. Physical tolls kick in harder. The emotional turmoil escalated all the more. The self-inflicted shit fest came in handier. The deadlines kept piling up and honestly, that was the first time that I did not care at all. I thought that I was selfish, but in retrospect, that was me crying out for help not from others, but from me --the me that is still somehow breathing under all the shit pile that is above and beyond me. Of course, I was trying to solve these because I need to be fed by the world I chose to be part of, but, I failed more than ever. I had some A-game wins but the wins were at the expense of my sanity. And again, this is the first time that I am totally experience shutdowns both in the physical and the mental spheres, and I am not kidding when I say that these shutdowns make me feel more than nothing. It’s so difficult to explain, so let’s save that for another entry, shall we?  And so, I decided to make a full stop amidst everything. I just woke up one day and told myself that it’s time that I allow myself to look after myself. I just realized that I ought to be wasting my time beautifully. And that beautifully meant I am the only one to define it. For the first time in my life, I was able to let the voices inside me have a decent conversation with any trace of OD-ing on anything.  Today, I am still learning. I am still afraid. I am still figuring things out.  Today, I can say that I am back on track even if it seems like I am still lost. I can say that I finally managed to live my truths even when it seems that the world I was once in look down on me, and yes, I don’t give a shit. After all, I am still the strategic and creative girl, but now, I am also a work in progress in the name of things that make me more of the me I always dreamt of without having to run away from my mother’s memories. I am a work in progress who’s on her way to live with intent as I make more sense of how to die beautifully in my eye. Of course, I still want my mother’s approval, but now, I realized that I don’t need it. Sweet, right? 

[bulletproof-heaven]

Wings Cafe - Chapter 6

Chapters: prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6

“Hyung, is he okay?” Jimin immediately invaded Namjoon’s personal space, a hand tugging on his shirt. “Is he okay?”.

Yoongi pulled the younger boy away from the leader, holding him in a hug, “We’re going to check, okay?”

“We’ll see you-” Namjoon turned to JB.

“Just go.”

“Thanks”. He gave the other leader one last smile before the whole group left; speeding to the club.

They stood there watching the club bathe in smoke as they were restricted by firefighters from getting any closer. Jimin was crying uncontrollably, his loud sobs were still audible over the two hydro pumps and massive crowd of spectators. The moment they arrived at the scene, Jimin jumped out of the still moving vehicle to ask every firefighter that pass if they saw his brother. But sadly, they all shook their heads. Namjoon asked Yoongi to hold on to Jimin so the boy doesn’t disrupt the firefighter from doing their job.

After 15 minutes of nothing but smoke, the captain walked over to Namjoon, “Are you the owner of the club? The fire has been successfully taken care of-”

“Did you find my brother?” Jimin exclaimed, nearly escaping Yoongi’s death grip on him.

“No, we haven’t found any bodies yet but I’m sorry to say that it might be possibility that there wouldn’t be a body to find”.

“Do you know the cause?” Namjoon stepped forwards a bit.

“It was an accident,” The captain said, taking off his helmet so they could hear him better, “someone left something metal in the microwave in the back room causing it to explode and nobody noticed the fire until it was too late”.

“Thank you for your help” Namjoon said before the group took a step inside the building. It wasn’t destroyed, which was the only good as everything inside has been burnt to crisp.

“Jimin-ah” Yoongi suddenly said after looking around the entrance corridor, “maybe we should wait outside.”

“What? Why?” Jimin spun around so fast, it nearly gave the elder whiplash, “Jihyuk might be in there”.

“Even if he was,” Yoongi stated calmly, “he would be dead”.

“He could just be extremely injured” the boy argued, glaring at him.

Namjoon walked up to the two. “Hyung is right” he said, “Jimin, wait outside”.

Jimin opened him mouth to argue.

“Now”.

He sighed, shoulders slumped over, before walking out of the burnt building, dragging his feet with every step.

Yoongi gave the leader a nod to thank him before following the boy.

The elder decided to take Jimin home because it was really late into the night and he could tell that the boy was getting tired; but it was mainly because the boy tried to sneak back into the building every time Yoongi turned his head.

They sat in the living room in silence before they heard the others pull up into the drive way. Jimin immediately hopped up and rushed towards the door, hand laying on the knob just as it was pushed open, nearly knocking the boy over.

“Did you find Jihyuk?” Jimin looked up at Jin with hopefulness swirling in his eyes but he quickly deflated when the elder just shook his head with a sigh. The boy immediately burst into tears, running up the stairs with loud sobs bouncing off the walls.

Yoongi made his move to go follow him but Jin placed a hand on his shoulder before glancing at Namjoon. Yoongi sighed and let Jin take his place. Everyone else followed, retiring for the night, leaving Yoongi with the leader.

“Did you find a body?” Yoongi broke the silence.

Namjoon shook his head, taking a seat on the couch, “we didn’t but the captain said that if they were in the room of the blast when the accident happened then there wouldn’t be a body”.

“It wasn’t an accident”.

Namjoon looked over to the other, “What do you mean? He clearly said-”

“There’s a fire detector in every room” The elder stated, “I would know cause I designed the place”.

“You’re being overly paranoid” The leader stated, getting up from his seat. “Jihyuk has always done stupid things, maybe this one just came back and bit him in the ass”.

Yoongi stared at Namjoon who stared back. The elder sighed, “Fine. Believe what you want, just don’t say stuff like that in front of Jimin. You’ll be dead within a second”.

“I know”.

~~~~~~

Yoongi knocked on the door of his bedroom softly before walking in. He shut the door quietly behind him as he watched Jin slowly pet the lump of comforter even though the boy probably couldn’t even feel the touch.

“Hey” Yoongi whispered. Jin looked up at him before standing up. “Thanks for looking after him”.

The eldest shook his head as Yoongi sat down where he was sitting a minute ago, “don’t worry about it”.

Jin left quietly and the moment the door clicked shut, a small head emerged from the comforter.

“Hyung?” The boy looked up at the elder with red swollen eyes.

“Go back to sleep”. Yoongi ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.

“Why aren’t you coming into bed?” Jimin asked with a giant yawn. The elder had already changed before the others came home but he was still sitting on edge of the bed with no signs of moving.

Yoongi chuckled before tapping the other on the nose, “how can I sleep when you taking up all of the comforter?”

The younger boy whined, wiggling a bit to the left before lifting up the comforter so that Yoongi could slide in. Yoongi smiled as he got comfortable and immediately, Jimin wrapped his arms around the elder’s torso, legs tangled in between the others’.

“I’m sad” Jimin stated, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I know” Yoongi replied, “Try to get some sleep”. He started running his fingers through the boy’s hair which always help the other fall asleep within 5 minutes. Even after Yoongi was sure that the boy was asleep, he didn’t stop. He didn’t know if he did it so that Jimin wouldn’t wake up from nightmares or if he did it as a reminder that the love of his life is in his arms and safe from everything that wanted to harm him.

Ever since the first time Yoongi saw him, he knew he had to be with him. Yoongi never believed in love at first sight and would definitely deny it if anyone called it that, but it was love at first sight.

~~~~~~

Min Yoongi, also known as Suga, was infamous. For his skills, reputation, and most importantly, for his lack of emotions. He could do any job in the blink of an eye for the right price. He usually never accepted any job that started before 11 am but here he is, sitting at Wings café at 7 o’clock in the morning waiting for his target.

His foot tapped along with the clock as he sent Namjoon another angry text message before sighing, laying his head on the table. The leader was literally upstairs, Yoongi didn’t understand why he had to pull his own ass out of bed when the man was already here anyway.

“Jimin-ah, are you getting your usual?”

The front door swung open, the bell on top rang to alert the barista.

“Yeah, are you getting anything?” A soft, light voice asked, “I’ll pay today”.

Yoongi didn’t pay any attention. He didn’t even lift his head to see who walked in. If their name isn’t Jihyuk, then they’re not important.

“A drink for Jihyuk?”

The assassin’s head snapped up as his eyes glued to the boy who reached for the drink and standing next him was the most beautiful human being he has ever seen on this planet.

“A drink for Jimin?”

The love of Yoongi’s life lifted his sweater pawed hand to take his drink before giving the barista a crescent moon eye smile. Yoongi gulped subconsciously as he watched the two walk out of the café before realising that he just let his target get away.

Yoongi stood up quickly, nearly knocking the table over and scaring all the other customers, before rushing out the door. He thanked the gods above that the two boys were walking casual while chatting so he didn’t need to run. He would never forgive Jihyuk if he had to do physical exercise. He walked briskly to catch up to the two before hooking his finger on Jihyuk’s collar and pulled him into an alleyway.

“Park Jihyuk?” Yoongi asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“What the fuck, dude?” the boy yelled just as Jimin rushed into the alleyway.

“What are you doing?!”.

Yoongi forced himself to ignore the love his life and focus on the boy in front of him. Feelings aren’t going to hinder him from doing his job; it was really good pay.

“What did you do?” The assassin leaned in closer, one hand pulling out the knife from his pocket and held it to the boy’s neck. “Why does someone want you dead?”

“Dead?” Jimin yelped before hissing at Jihyuk. “What did you do?”

“I swear I didn’t do anything!” the boy eyed the knife that was dangerously closer to his main artery.

Yoongi chuckled. That’s what they all say. “Does Yuna ring a bell?”

From the look on Jihyuk’s face and how it immediately went pale, Yoongi would say yes, that name did ring a bell.

“I swear, she wanted it”.

The assassin could see Jimin’s jaw dropped to the ground out of the corner of his eye.

“You raped her?!”

“No, I didn’t. I swear” Jihyuk exclaimed, eyes wide, “You have to believe me”.

Yoongi chuckled again, adding a little more pressure to the knife and a small trickle of blood started flowing from the small cut. “You see; I don’t have to do anything. Although, finishing the job and getting paid sounds like a good idea”.

“Please put the knife down” Jimin suddenly spoke up, “I don’t want to hurt you”.

Yoongi turned his head to the cutie and raised his eyebrow at what he saw; the boy was pointing a gun at him. The sight made the assassin’s heart flutter. It was the perfect balance of innocence and sin.

“Are you going to shoot me?”

“I don’t want to so please let him go”.

Yoongi was impressed. The boy was a walking contradiction; his words say that he doesn’t want to shoot but his body was ready to take action. Jimin wasn’t bluffing.

“What if you accidently shoot your beloved boyfriend?” The assassin spat, jealously growing inside of him as he thought about the two’s relationship.

“He’s my brother” Jihyuk whispered, which gained him a grin.

“I’m going to ask you one last time, please let him go”.

Yoongi was still grinning, “I don’t think I will-”

Then everything happened so fast. A gun shot went off. The knife flew out of the assassin’s hand. And no one was hurt.

Within a split second, Yoongi was standing in front of Jimin and had the gun in his hand. The boy quickly took a step back as the assassin leaned down a bit to inspect the other’s face.

Innocent.

Adorable.

Mine.

He grinned, “didn’t think you’d do it. I’m impressed”.

Yoongi placed the gun in his pocket before grabbing Jimin by the wrist and dragged him back to Wings Café, ignoring Jihyuk who was shouting at him.

The boy winced as he tried to tug out of the other’s grasp. Surely, there was going to be bruises.

“Where are you taking me?” he exclaimed.

“If you want your brother to stay alive, then you would follow me and stay quiet” Yoongi stated before pushing open the door leading Jimin upstairs to Namjoon, never once letting go of his wrist.

~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed and Jihyuk’s funeral had come and gone; everything went back to normal. The three youngest boys went back to school and were swamped with assessment while the elders felt like sitting ducks. They still took in jobs but they only accepted ones that could be finished within a day or two. They didn’t want to leave the country or spend more than a few days away from the mansion just in case the government came back. However, since the visit from Solar, there had been nothing. No messages. No tests. No visits. It was like they had never walked into their lives in the first place. And it was because of this silence that made Namjoon believe that something was coming.

He was sitting in the living room with Hoseok, who was eating his lunch, when Jin quickly walked in, taking off his apron within a second, brows furrowed in worry. "I just received a call that someone's in holding at the police station".

Hoseok snorts as he slurps some more ramen, "It's probably Jungkook getting another fight and couldn't run fast enough from the police".

"Are you kidding me? That kid would never get caught, he's like a cheetah," Namjoon laughed, "It's probably Yoongi hyung, driving too fast or too dangerously and then tried to escape causing a police chase".

Jin just stood there with a hand on his hip, an eyebrow raised, "Well I'm glad you two are having fun".

Both men smiled sheepishly before Namjoon shrugged, "At least you know it's not Jimin or Taehyung. Taehyung never leaves the house and the only thing Jimin can get arrested for is feeding the homeless".

Jin sighed, shrugging on his thin jacket, "Yeah, it's probably Yoongi".

Just as he started to leave the room, Yoongi ran down the stairs, loud stomps echoing the wide room. "You're home?" Jin watched him walk briskly towards the door with his keys in hand, bewildered. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Jimin just called me; he's being held at the police station!" The door slammed behind him.

"What?!" Hoseok chocked on his ramen, Namjoon jumped up onto his feet, accidentally knocking the coffee table over, and Jin just started at the closed door with his mouth hanging.

Yoongi was enraged, yelling at the poor rookie working at the front desk. “What do you mean I have to post bail!?”. He was so close to just picking up the chair in front of him and chucking it, but he would end up in holding too and that wouldn’t help Jimin’s situation at all. “I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong person”.

“As I said before, sir, the evidence was in his bag and it has his fingerprints all over it”.

Yoongi sighed, fists clench, “Can I at least see him?”

He followed the rookie to the holding cell and saw Jimin sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. The younger looked up only when he heard the cell being unlocked and his bottom lip started to wobble as fresh tears filled his eyes. Yoongi quickly entered the cell just in time to catch the boy who barrelled straight towards him.

“Hyung! I-I-I” Jimin sobbed, head on the elder’s chest as his whole body shook, “I di-didn’t d-do it. I d-don’t kn-know how it got-got in my bag”

“Shh, of course you didn’t” Yoongi whispered into the shorter boy’s hair.

The boy looked up, he had stopped crying but his eyes were still wet and a bit swollen, “Can-can we leave?”.

Yoongi hesitated as he took a quick glance at the rookie still waiting at the door. He knew telling Jimin the truth will just cause tears again.

“Um, I have to call someone real quick, okay?”

Jimin nodded, taking a step back, far enough so Yoongi could his phone out of his pocket but brunette was still basically attached to the other. Just as he was about to press call, his phone started ringing; it was Namjoon.

“Yeah, I’m still here. No, he’s fine. Um… we’ve got a…” The elder looked down at the adorable boy, wide eyes, listening intently to the conversation. He can’t say the words ‘problem’, ‘issue’, or ‘situation’ without causing a panic attack. “… we’ve got a thing”.

A laugh came from the other side, “a thing?”

“Yeah, a thing. I can’t- Jimin is- They said that-” Yoongi tried to find a way to tell Namjoon without making it too obvious so that the boy, who is practically staring a hole into his face, would understand, “there’s just a thing, alright? I’ll call you later”.

He hung up without hearing a reply before dialling another number. “Hey Mina, can you put him on? It’s kind of urgent”. He glanced down while he was on hold for a few seconds, smiling at the boy who looked a tiny bit jealous.

“Hey,” Yoongi suddenly greeted, “Yeah, I’m at the police station currently” He laughed, “No, it’s not me this time… It’s Jimin … Yeah, that’ll be great… Thank you so much…We just saw each other a few weeks ago … Just tell me when you’re free and I’ll tell Jin to cook you guys a feast... Thank you again, bye”.

He placed his phone back into his pocket before wrapping both his arms around the smaller boy again.

“Who’s Mina? Is she pretty?” A pout and a trying-to-be-menacing-but-is-just-adorable glare.

“That was JB. Mina’s his new assistant; you know how quickly they get fired for flirting with him. Let’s go home”.

Upon hearing this, Jimin’s glare was instantly replaced with a giant smile as Yoongi started to guide them both out of the cell.

“He can’t leave the cell!” The rookie ordered but his voice wobbled at the end. Yoongi sighed. He really wanted to chuck a chair this kid now.

Jimin’s head snapped towards the elder, “What? Why?”.

“He’s mistaken” Yoongi continued to walk Jimin towards the entrance of the police station while the rookie kept ordering them. As they got to the front desk, the station’s phone started ringing. Yoongi nodded towards it, “You better pick that up”.

The rookie did what he was told, “H-hello?”. Something inaudible to Yoongi and Jimin was said on the other side and the rookie jolted in surprise, standing up straighter, “Yes, sir. Right away, sir. You’re welcome, sir”. And the phone call ended.

Yoongi smirked as the rookie looked at him in amazement, “Can we go now?”

“Of course, we have to keep the evidence but I’ll go grab his bag”.

“See” he looked at the Jimin, “I told you he was mistaken”.

“Here’s your bag” The rookie came back within record time. The two young men thanked him but before they turned to leave, the rookie blurted out, “How do you have to mayor phone’s number?”.

Yoongi grinned, bringing his finger up to his lips, “It’s a secret”.

~~~~~

The two barged through the doors of the mansion and Namjoon was already sitting on the couch waiting for them. He stood up and gestured for Yoongi to follow him but the elder couldn’t go anywhere with Jimin will clung onto his arm like a koala.

“No, don’t go” Jimin whined. With Yoongi’s personality, he should find clinginess annoying but every time he looked at the kid, his heart filled with happiness at how adorable he was.

“I have to,” He tried to push the arms off his bicep only for them to warp around his waist, “please, Jimin, don’t be difficult. It’ll only be a quick conversation; just go get changed, go to my room and I’ll find you when I’m done”.

“Okay.” Jimin sniffled before finally letting go and headed up the stairs.

Yoongi followed Namjoon into the meeting room and blew up in rage once the door clicked shut. “They said they found the evidence in his bag! They said I had to post bail!”.

“Maybe he did do it?” Namjoon played devil’s advocate and received a death glare for his efforts.

“They found a severed hand. Jimin can’t even look at blood without bursting into tears, let alone sever someone’s hand.”. Yoongi shook his head thinking about how terrified the younger was when the police pulled it out. “Someone’s plotting against us”.

“You don’t know that for sure”. Namjoon wanted to say that it wasn’t true, Jimin’s not that innocent but he’d like to live for another day.

“They said they received an anonymous tip with Jimin’s exact description, location, everything” Yoongi started pacing, “His fingerprints were all over the hand.”

“That still doesn’t mean-”

“Come on, Namjoon. Who are you kidding? First, our information was leaked to the government, then the club ‘accidently’ caught on fire with Jihyuk still in it, and now this? It’s too much to be a coincidence”.

“I’ll start look into it” Namjoon stated reluctantly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Yoongi scoffed, “You better hurry. Who knows who’ll be next. Jungkook’ bus might blow up when he’s travelling home from classes. Taehyung’s not the best at hand-to-hand combat so he might get jumped out on the streets. What about Jin?”

Namjoon’s eyes widen at the thought of his Jin getting hurt. In their line of work, they’re all constantly at risk; getting attacked by gangs, run-in with the authorities, getting targeted by assassins, but all of these could be anticipated. The people who are targeting them now are rookies; trying to frame them and plot ‘accidents’ instead of hitting them head on, but these rookies have their files which means that they know the group’s movements before Namjoon has even thought about the first step.

“The kitchen could blow up when he’s cooking. A subtle gas leak while he’s taking a nap, killing him in his sleep. Or something worse…” Yoongi trailed off, leaving it entirely up to Namjoon’s imagination. He didn’t even feel a little bit bad for using the leader’s weakness, if it meant he would take this seriously. Yoongi started walking out the door; judging by the horrific expression on the other’s face, he’s pretty certain he got his point across.

“But who would be willing to do something like that just to frame a person?”

He paused briefly, knowing that the leader was talking about the hand. “Someone who is obviously insane”.

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