Sometimes I feel like ppl forget that Yaldabaoth’s deal was to functionally let the Phantom Thieves (as just Joker) police society unrestrained and that the “game” was manipulated from the very start

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 3 Review & Rundown

Oh boy oh boy, this sure was a heck of a time wasn’t it? Not quite as panic inducing and chaotic as last week with the Hound playing fetch with Oscar’s body, but I still felt a great deal of dread and unease as things took a turn for the negative. Hopefully I can properly explain how.

We begin on a black screen as Ruby pants and groans in a way that made me worry I had put on the wrong video. But no, she’s just winded from riding the tube up to Atlas, and we see her stagger out to see the rest of the group awaiting her. Nora is being painfully held by the ear for what she did to Weiss last episode, but she defends herself by saying it was the kind of thing you only get to do once in a lifetime so she should be happy about it. Blake is the last one to pop out of the tube, and she seems to have had a real bad time coming up. Hair a mess, a little of balance, out of breath, she has good reason to want to NEVER do this again. May asks Penny for directions through the base, though she calls her “robo-girl” when she does it which isn’t the greatest nickname. Penny does a 3D scan of the base and pulls up a map for reference, or something cool and digital to that effect, its more of a visual thing than something you can explain. She gives a rapid series of perfect directions, much to everyone but Ruby’s wide eyed amazement. Ruby is just smugly impressed that her gal pal can do this sort of cool thing. Penny also takes this chance to assert that she would much prefer being called by her actual name. Ruby gives a smug “heh” that May is getting told off, to which May scoffs. Kdin herself has commented that this was meant to only be indignation at being chided for the nickname, not any annoyance at Penny being insistent on what she is called. Personal identity is something May understands well, and she does call her Penny from that point on. So it’s nothing to go insulting or slandering May over.

May puts up her invisibility bubble, and they head off. We see them standing around in an elevator waiting to reach their floor, a very relatable bit of comedy, before taking a few hesitant steps back as it stops on an early floor and two soldiers get in. These two are outside the bubble so they can’t see our girls, but it’s still a tense situation. They get to their floor and sneak around the soldiers while they’re busy talking about how creepy Salem’s horde waiting in the air is, and Nora plays a little prank by hitting every elevator button on the way out. The soldiers are so confused and annoyed! Reaching a door with a security checkpoint, Penny pops one of her fingertips off to reveal a USB insert that she plugs into the terminal to use Pietro’s credentials without his hand print. Ruby is quite impressed by this cool new tool, as would be expected of the weapons buff. May asks which way to turn, and Penny informs them that next they will need to go directly through the central command room. There are a lot of people crowded together and walking around, and May’s Semblance is not equipped for that kind of navigation. Fortunately, we get an answer in the form of what I’d like to call the Pennydex. She explains, with a fun cartoony visual, that Ruby’s Semblance allows her to do much more than just move fast, she actually breaks down to a molecular level so her mass can be negated and she can move faster. So, as we saw briefly in episode 1 of Volumes 4 and 6 with Nora and Weiss respectively, she can do the same to other people and transport a group since the mass of a whole group wouldn’t matter if they’re all just flying molecules. TLDR: We were misinterpreting Ruby’s Semblance the whole time and she can use it to get them through the crowded room easily. And judging from Ruby’s look of shock and confusion, she’s been misinterpreting her Semblance too. Harriet did say that her power is unlike anything she’s ever seen before back in V7... Blake continues to be the funniest member of the group by pointing out how Penny knew this was possible before Ruby did, and all Ruby can do is remind her (and us) that Penny also figured out Blake’s faunus identity before Ruby had. Not exactly painting yourself in the brightest light if your only rebuttal is further proof you’re not that perceptive... 

With the opening of a door we shift scenes to Ironwood explaining himself for being tardy to... whatever it is he’s doing, and blaming it on how busy today has been. Meaning he’s probably killed someone else offscreen. The only thing that pisses me off more than that idea is whom he’s talking to: Watts, working for Ironwood to try and hack Penny under threat of execution from two armed guards. Point all the guns you want, Jimbo, this WILL backfire on you in a tremendous way. As quickly illustrated in a podcast about this episode by an IT professional, it is VERY bad business to hire a malicious hacker who has made no efforts to prove his stance with your security or what he will do with his skills has changed. If you can’t understand the jargon on his screen, he will use your ignorance to stab you in the back and turn this in his favor. But it is at least fortunate for Ironwood that Watts is here, because he points out that Pietro’s credentials are in use within the compound and it’s a little uncertain if the general would have noticed that without someone there checking the system. Naturally, as the paranoid man he is, Ironwood declares a security breach and a code red lockdown, authorization to use lethal force granted. Hey, I said this was fortunate for Ironwood, not for our heroes! The girls are of course panicked and worried, Penny checking the systems to see the tubes have been sealed too so they can’t leave how they came in. May is ready to swipe an airship for them so they can bail immediately, but Penny is resolute that the mission can still be achieved. Nora gets a good idea on how to make this work, and we see May sneak into the control room while cloaked to trip a guy walking by with a cup of coffee. His mug, labeled #1 Dad Dud, flies through the air and the hot coffee spills on a coworker’s computer and lap. This poor guy Bill who just wanted to drink some good bean juice, gets screamed at by another employee while the victim of the spill runs screaming out of the room to change pants. Bill is apparently notorious for not heeding the sign they have pinned up to say no food or drinks in the control room, and while the angry guy lists off his misdemeanors Ruby swoops up the rest of her friends and zooms through the room towards their destination while everyone is occupied with Bill. There’s a theory Bill is actually Velvet’s father Will Scarletina, since according to Before the Dawn he does work in Atlas, but considering the kind of guy Bill seems to be I would kinda hope otherwise. He microwaved salmon, for Christ’s sake! Unforgiveable!

The girls, minus May who went elsewhere to get a ship for their departure, emerge from Ruby’s petal blur safe and sound... except Blake. Penny, Weiss, and Nora have all been carried by Ruby before and are used to it, but this is Blake’s first time traveling Air Rose. So while the others look very proud of a triumphant Ruby, Blake is panicked and trying to steady herself. We next see them walking along an ominous looking bridgeway to a door with an electrified field in front of it. Penny does her USB insert thing to take down the electric barrier and unlock the door, and the others ready themselves to fight whoever might be on the other side. Instead, they find an empty room with several terminal pillars, a couple chairs, and one central interface computer that Penny will be using. After the door closes, Nora notes that the electricity started up again. Penny sits down at the terminal, and after taking a moment to breath and prepare herself notifies Pietro over whatever comms they use that she’s ready to start. It’s cute that she calls him dad, reminds me that yeah they are a family. What’s much less cute is that Pietro then remotely takes control of Penny from all the way at Amity so he can use her to perform the complicated process they need to make the launch plan work. The size of her irises and pupils changes, as does the color of her irises from green to yellow. Makes me very wary of the fact that her eyes were briefly red in the intro... especially since Watts is on the job to try and hack into her. Knowing her being remotely controlled is already possible in how she is programmed is TERRIFYING. Ruby is understandably a bit confused and taken aback by Pietro’s voice coming from Penny. “Penny” starts the complicated task as Ruby watches and probably has no idea what she’s looking at, and we cut over to Nora as she looks around the room. She passes by Weiss and Blake, and Blake is the one to voice her concern for Yang’s group. Makes sense she’s so concerned, she’s an only child worried by the fact that Ruby and Yang butted heads like that. Weiss is a sister so she knows what it’s like for siblings to fight like this, she knows it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other less or are on opposite sides. They just have different ideas about what’s right. Clearly she’s drawing from her own feelings on going against Winter at the end of Volume 7. Nora also tries to reassure Blake by talking about how strong and talented Jaune and Yang are and how much Oscar has grown as a fighter. Blake and Yang both seem impressed and reassured by this appraisal, while we the audience know this is very far from the current truth, since Oscar has been stolen away and Yang was unable to protect him. But what is also noteworthy is that she said nothing about Ren. She notices her own gap in information and tries to offer something but... she has no idea what Ren is right now. She hates feeling like she’s losing him, like she has less and less of an understanding who he is than ever before despite the years they’ve spent together, and she’s unsure if she should blame him or herself for this. This time Blake is the one with sage advice pulled from her own bittersweet experiences. When you’ve been at someone’s side for as long as they have, your identities become intertwined and you can lose track of what is really you vs what is a part of them mixed in. It’s important to keep a firm grip on who you are, to be your own person outside of that other person. Clearly, this is a warning to not make the mistakes she did with Adam, for Nora to not blind herself with obsession and attachment to this partner she trusts so much. They don’t say this flat out, but we can read between the lines. It’s a very nice moment from Blake, but it only worries Nora more. She’s had Ren in her life for so long, she really doesn’t know who she is as an individual. That’s a bit sad to think about, but Weiss tries to look on the bright side and says this can be an opportunity for Nora to do some self discovery and find who Nora Valkyrie truly is on her own. All Nora can think of to define herself though... is the value of her strength and her destructive capability. That’s all people expect of her, and she is finally getting a chance to prove herself beyond that.

Before Blake or Weiss have a chance to reassure her, they hear some promising beeps from the computer and rejoin Ruby and Penny. Pietro explains through Penny that he’s cloned the imprint of Ironwood’s computer signature onto Penny, so when they run the launch sequence for Amity the system will connect to her to get clearance instead of going all the way to this terminal to get it from the General. She finally returns to being herself, and says she’ll be sure to rejoin her friends once the launch is done so she can help finish the evacuations, buuuut Pietro has a different idea. He wants her to stay on the tower with him and Maria, but Penny wants to be here and help her friends who need her. Ruby does her best to be diplomatic about this, but she has to agree with Pietro. If Ironwood was right about the tower being unreachable by Salem’s forces then it will be the safest place for the Winter Maiden powers until Salem is beaten or leaves. So maybe Penny should stay there, at least for now? Weiss agrees, while Blake tries to change the subject and say they should head to the hangar and GTFO. Penny unlocks the door while lamenting how often folks are having to do things they would rather not. Appropriately enough, the Ace Ops are waiting on the other side looking for a fight our girls would probably rather not be having. With all the authority of a neighbor at your door to ask for their vacuum back, Harriet insists they’ll be bringing Penny “home” now. RNBW are quick to draw their weapons in defense, and it becomes a verbal spar instead. Surprisingly, it’s Vine who steps up with the speech to convince Penny. And just like the General, its full of negging and gaslighting to make her think she only thought she’s been doing what’s right but really she needs to do what Ironwood says. That she’s not protecting people unless she’s getting the relic for Ironwood. Which is, of course, bullshit because 60% of the people are in Mantle and the General has expressly stated he wants to abandon them to die in favor of keeping his already well fortified 40% up in Atlas safe. Penny tries to defend herself and her position on things with Mantle, but Hare and Elm have a pretty damn backwards way of remembering the end of Volume 7 because they call Penny ungrateful and blame her for Winter being in critical condition. Let’s try to imagine how that dramatic climax would have gone without Penny being there, hm? Winter wouldn’t have been able to get through the arctic vortex Fria was creating without dying of sheer cold, Cinder would have burned through with rage or spite or just been closer when Fria finally collapsed and died. Penny saved Winter’s life twofold and delayed Cinder long enough for Ruby to come in and make the Fall Maiden panic and leave. Get bent, bootlickers...

Marrow and Harriet try to rapidfire good cop bad cop Penny into backing down and surrendering her access of the vault to them, but Ruby uses actual logic and says boosting Atlas into the sky won’t stop Salem, it will only harm more people and delay the inevitable. Or at least, she tries to but hot tempered Hare yaps at her to shut up or she’ll get arrested just like Qrow. Threatening Ruby is more than Penny is willing to allow, and she takes the clear bait to step out of the server room only for Harriet to close the door behind her and leave the other girls trapped behind solid steel and deadly electric current. Penny uses her Maiden powers and her sword array to put up a good fight, but it’s still 4 vs 1 and their teamwork starts to overwhelm her, especially when Marrow uses his trump card Semblance to immobilize her for Vine to put cuffs on her. Meanwhile Weiss tries to use her Summon Knight to break down the door and even the odds, but the electric field is too much. She and Ruby lament how unfair this is and hope Penny can last a little while, but we are seeing how poorly that goes. Nora decides she has to step up for the clutch play, repeating the only 2 things she thinks she can do. “Be strong, and hit stuff...” So she jabs Magnhild into the power source on one side of the door and starts absorbing all the electricity into her body, screaming like Goku going Super Saiyan 3. And the analogy fits, because lightning runs across her skin in cool jagged bolts of pink and her hair stands on end. With a swing and a scream, she bashes the doors in and knocks the Ace Ops back a bit before they can cuff Penny. But all things must come with a cost, and this blows through all her Aura and she passes out with a momentary glassly look in her eyes. Not only that, the pink faded but the lightning patterns are still on her skin as an extensive set of scars consistent with the Lichtenberg figure observed on people actually struck by lightning. In terms of predictions for future consequences, serious electrocution like this has been documented to result in paralysis to some limbs, brain damage or memory loss, and sometimes even blindness. I worry those last two could be possible, since she was already having a hard time determining who she was without Ren so now she might completely forget who she is altogether, or she might lose her sight completely. I don’t know if RT would dare to do that, but we do have Yang’s arm as an example of their willingness for consequences... Regardless, the heroes are now down a woman but they’re still ready to fight for their friend. 

Ironwood bitches and moans about losing the chance for the odds to be stacked in his favor since he can’t win this encounter otherwise, but Watts has a new plan for the Ace Ops. Harriet doesn’t like the new orders, but Marrow is ready and willing to obey. Elm quickly swipes RWB over the edge of the walkway before they can do much to fight back against the already winded Atlesians, and by the time Ruby can scoop up her teammates with her Semblance (thank goodness she learned to do that today), the damage is done. Harriet maneuvers behind Penny and yanks one of her swords out of her back with a heart wrenching pluck of the connecting string. Like pulling off a butterfly’s wing... especially since in this world weapons are supposed to be like an extension of your soul. With the sword yoinked their job is done here and they all bail, though Marrow has a remorseful look back at the teens as if he knows he’s trapped on the wrong side. Guess we know why he agreed to this plan so quickly, it was a grab and go rather than a total takedown of their former friends. Blake is the first to point out how incredibly sus this behavior was, but they don’t have time to fully ruminate on the situation because they’ve also done what they came to do and they need to GTFO. Carrying Nora, they meet May in the hangar where her jaunty greeting is cut short by the sight of the ginger girl’s injuries. They need to get her somewhere safe, so they violently bust out through the doors. While in the open air, Penny says her goodbyes and they reveal the ship can be a convertible so she can fly away. Ruby and Penny share a tender but deep hug, and Ruby promises they’ll see each other soon. I just worry when they do it will be on opposite sides of the battlefield, and this worry is not helped by the final scene. The Ace Ops deliver Penny’s sword to a satisfied Ironwood, though Harriet would have been happier taking all of those meddling kids down. Watts cryptically implies that with a piece of Penny’s tech they can make her join them, and anyone who doesn’t trust him immediately knows by “them” he means Salem. And that’s the worrisome note we end on this week. Will next week be better? With the element of future knowledge/ the curse of this review being a week or so late I can say NOPE.

| Goddess of the Hearth | V

masterlist

warnings: none

word count: 2.1k

a/n: sorry for the wait. so much schoolwork but ill be done with the semester in two weeks so hopefully i can start posting regularly after that. also my askbox is always open for requests. 

Nesta looked at the dark and bulky man who was now bowing to her. Devlon, he introduced himself — the centurion from the legions’ camp on the outskirts. She tried not to grimace as he threw her a sloppy grin as he rose again. 

“Priestess, what an honor it is to stand before you.” 

“Is that supposed to be my carruca?” Nesta flatly asked, walking past the man towards her carriage. The carruca had an arched wooden rooftop, the exterior reflected colors of gold and red, the colors of the empire. On the inside there was enough space for at least four people, sitting comfortably in leather cushioned seats. She looked towards the front where two black horses with dark black manes intricately braided pulled the carriage. 

“This is one of the finest from our collection, reserved for members of the Senate, but you are a special exception.” Nesta tried to ignore the way her stomach turned as he lazily eyed her and only stiffened her back to face the centurion. 

“When do we leave?” 

“We? I’m not going with you, priestess.”

Nesta raised her eyebrows, “Then who is..?”

But she got her answer before the centurion could speak.

Over the horizon she spotted him, it was always hard not to. His broad figure shone in the sunlight, forever a stark contrast to the white sands and it wasn’t long before his long legs reached them. And then he was before her, much different than she has seen him before. Now he stood in his armor, his shoulders straightened and the helmet on his head covered his wavy curls. She couldn’t see past his soldier demeanor to the boy who laid out on her garden floor soaking in the sun. His eyes were darker underneath his helmet and the sun didn’t shine bright enough to capture them. For some reason Nesta felt very cold in the scorching heat. 

“These are my best optiones Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve won countless battles for me so surely they can handle a trip to the capital. I’m sure your husband will be pleased to know you are under the very best protection.” 

Your husband. 

Nesta tried not to flinch. 

Devlon stood in front of what Nesta realized were two optiones. She didn’t notice the other male, lea, dark  and muscular with eyes that almost looked like amethyst crystals. “Priestess, it's an honor to accompany you. I’m Rhysand.” He bowed slightly. Nesta tried not to wince at the gesture but gave him a tight lipped smile.

“Yes it’s an honor Priestess.” Nesta almost did not recognize his voice.

“Cassian.” She said voicing her thoughts and froze when their eyes met but she quickly regained her posture. Nesta straightened her back, lifted her chin and turned away from Cassian. Devlon was watching the exchange carefully.

“Is this it? Just two?” She said trying hard not to sound annoyed but her tone was completely the opposite.

Devlon’s face turned sour,  astounded that she spoke so frankly with him. Nesta knew men like him all her life, she was forced to give them blessings from Vestía. They thought the world should be given to them at the hands of pretty women. Nesta hated it, every one of them.

“I’ll have you know, Priestess that these men have been trained specifically by me so I’m sure they’ll be just right to your new husband.” Devlon had a wicked gleam in his eyes. His last words came out in an almost sneering tone.

Before she could lash out on him Rhysand stepped up. “Very well. We should probably get going so we can reach our destination by dawn.” He reached for her one case of clothes on the ground and lifted them into the carruca. Devlon only grunted a goodbye before disappearing from her sight.

“He’s not really great with women.” Cassian said from behind her. She whirled around to face him now pulling off his helmet freeing his wonderful brown locks in the sun. Nesta tried not to stare as he ran his fingers through it. As if she didn’t dream of doing the same thing last night.

“He’s not the only one optione. Aren’t you going to help Rhysand?” She tried to look away from him, hoping to squander any thought of rebuttal from him.   

Cassian bit his inner cheek but went to lift her bags into the carriage. Rhysand threw them a curious look, maybe he sensed the same atmosphere that she thought felt suffocating.

-

He saw the stare that Rhys threw him, almost quizzical but Cassian ignored it. Of course Rhys didn't know of all his garden rendezvous with the priestess. Or that the conversation they had last night was running through his head on repeat. Cassian simply shrugged one of the cases on his shoulder to load into the carriage. You’re different from the rest.

“I can take the reins until sundown tonight, we should be able to make it to Helion by then.” Rhysand told him as he climbed behind the two great stallions. Cassian still caught his smirk as he looked over to where the priestess was climbing into the carriage. “You get to babysit.” Rhysand said almost too cruelly. 

“How generous of you,” Cassian tried to sound sarcastic. Rhy’s smirk grew as Cassian’s lips twitched. Rhys pretended not to see the obscene gesture Cassian threw at him. 

The priestess said nothing as he climbed aboard and sat across from her. Her steel grey eyes failed to meet his, but that didn't stop Cassian from admiring her beauty once more. It was almost painful to see her pale skin glow off the midday’s sun. He wished she'd let her hair down so he could see the slightly orange hues when it hit the sunlight. Instead it was tied up and hidden underneath a white veil. 

“I’m not the enemy you should  be looking out for, optione.” She said with an icy tone. Her eyes now bore deep holes into his. 

“Trust me if anything can cut men down it’s that tongue of yours, Priestess.”  

He loved watching her fluster, watching her brows furrow and sometimes a blush would creep up her neck right beofre she’d regain that stoic posture. Cassian knew the words she’d say next to him would slice him. It was like the calm before the storm.

“Would you like to end up like them Cassian?” His name falling off the tip of her tongue felt like audial velvet.

Now it was her turn to watch him fluster. He swallowed and looked away but could still feel her stare. I’d let your tongue do anything to me.  But Cassian knew better not to voice that thought. He watched as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the window frame, a slight smile on her face. 

Before long the sun was setting, Cassian found it hard to tear his gaze away from the asleep priestess. Her slightly slumped posture, softened features, the slow and steady breaths indicated she was fast asleep, But Cassian had his duty, and his eyes continued to dart outside looking for any sign of trouble. 

Rhysand pulled in front of a private hostel where servants waited for them. Cassian stepped out of the carriage just as the priestess arose from her sleep. She readjusted her veil before gracefully stepping out, ignoring his offered hand to help her down. 

My, aren’t you a magnificent sight. Eris may have no eyebrows but he does have taste.”  

Cassian snapped his gaze towards the voice, and immediately recognized Aelius Helion, the owner of Rome’s most luxurious private mansios. The business gained him notorious reputation among the elite which also granted the privilege of people looking away from who and how many he bedded.  His wide beamed smile and offered hand however were objectively ignored by the priestess, not even glancing at him. Helion blinked as if a ghost just walked through him. Cassian did his best not to crack a smile. 

“This is where I will be staying?” She deadpanned looking towards the grand structure whose arched entryway exposed the vibrant greens of the courtyard, the silks and velvets of the decor, and the massive statues of the gods in crystalline limestone. 

“It’s no temple priestess, trust me on that,” Helion winked and Cassian knew the priestess struggled not to roll her eyes. “Nevertheless, it has housed emperors and senators for years now. Servants for your every need, and I mean any need.” He was trying to get a reaction out of her stone face, but she never wavered.

  “I assume these optiones will be in the room next to mine?” Her voice was like a sharp fresh breeze on a summer’s day, ignoring his previous comment.

Helion, now fully recovered from her icy demeanor, looked intrigued. “We can arrange that, of course priestess. Although guards usually stay, erm, on duty for the night.” 

“They need rest.” She looked over to Cassian very quickly, but it was enough for Helion whose cat-like eyes wandered to him too. Cassian found it best now to help Rhysand unload her cases, avoiding their looks. 

“Don’t worry I'll take care of your boys, priestess. I’ll see you for dinner tonight?”

“Send it to my room instead.” She smiled sweetly, not an ounce of verity in it, and left to let the servants lead her to her room. 

Helion blew out a breath Cassian was familiar in holding himself. “Now why did Devlon send his two best optiones with ice priestess?” He asked, head cocking slightly towards Rhysand. 

Rhysand only shrugged, “He thinks it’ll grant him more favor with the Emperor if he provided the best protection for her.”

“She must be a very special bride. I heard Eris asked for her especially even after her little incident.” Helion chuckled but stopped when he saw the confused expression on the optiones. Rhysand raised his eyebrows, “Incident?” He looked over to Cassian who only shook his head, he didn't have any idea what Helion was talking about nor did he want any part of this conversation.  

Helion diverted his gaze to Cassian’s uncomfortable stance, “Devlon didn’t tell you? The girl not only signed off Eris’ eyebrows, but burned and scarred three of his guards.”  

Rhysand scoffed, “Alright stop telling tales Helion,” 

“I’m serious, I have reliable sources.” Helion’s eyes hardened and his smile vanished.

Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Enough of this. Where do we put the carriage?” He growled slightly. Helion raised his hands in defense and ushered a servant towards them to show them the way. 

-

“Wow, only one bed,” Rhysand said with a smirk on his face as they entered their room right across from the priestess. As Rhysand said, there was only one giant bed wrapped in silk covers. Cassian rolled his eyes as he threw his sack on the floor, “we’ll be switching patrol tonight anyways. Otherwise, you sleep on the floor.” 

“After a whole day out in the sun while you got shade in that fancy carriage? No way.” Rhysand plopped on the bed with arms behind his head, Cassian could almost seem him sinking into it. “I think this mattress is stuffed with feathers.” He said with a smile on his face. 

“What was that by the way today?” Rhysand said with his eyes still closed. 

“What was what?” 

Rhysand sat up from the bed and threw a skeptical look at him. “Her knowing your name and stealing glances at you, you genuinely talking to her, and then snapping at Helion.” 

“Helion talks too much.”

“About the priestess? Why would you care so much?”

Cassian sighed. He lifted the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the scar on his bicep. “She gave me a salve to heal this wound. There’s much more to her than being an ice priestess.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed, “What kind of salve would heal that so quickly?”

When Cassian said nothing Rhysands jaw tightened, “Are you really not going to answer me?”

“The Germanic tribes,” when Rhysand stiffened Cassian continued quickly, “it was through a network already established before the war.” 

“You don’t know what was in that salve she could’ve..”

“She could’ve what?” Cassian repeated, daring him to finish that thought. Rhysand just continued to stare at him, “You don’t have feelings for her right?” 

“Of course not.” Cassian said quickly and steadily even though his heart was racing. Rhysand didn’t look convinced. Cassian dragged his hand over his face and sighed. “I’ll take the first watch, you should rest for now Rhys.” He shut the door behind him without waiting for his response.

MARSEILLE II PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT II. “You can’t compete where you don’t compare” Length - 7, 452 Mood - slighted, spoiled Pairing - Suho x Reader, some Baekhyun x Lyon Reader Warning - Mature for sexual references 

“어떤 단어들도 우릴 표현 못 하지 내가 아는 우주도 우리를 축복해 (Oh) 우리 안의 Circle를 만들어 매일매일 그렇게 돌다가 물들어 (너와 내가 너와 내가) (너와 내가 너와 내가)” “Eyes Locked, Hands Locked” by Red Velvet

You watched her in silence as she watched him. You had never seen such an untrammeled glare in _____ (Lyon Reader)’s eyes, and found yourself uneasy about her slow careless unraveling even in front of you. Following your arrival from Berlin, after the successful unveiling of the Pathcodes’ The First Supper New Year Gala, a demonstration of the culmination of an entire season of painstakingly detailed planning, you had originally arranged to return together with her and Baekhyun to your place from the airport before they doubled back to pick up Yun Hee from her gra-mère where she had spent a short period of her winter holiday. But the very notion of having to continue to watch the way that she fused her lips closed to withhold the feral screams her eyes could not contain, was unbearable. You knew that she was irritated with Baekhyun for what she would and had described as his lack of assertiveness, for his almost pathetically people pleasing nature that failed to come to complete fruition. You knew since you were young how volatile her anger could surmount to, and in contrast, you knew, that as their relationship evolved, how much she had forgiven and had therefore bloomed as a person capable of loving even herself after failing to meet her own expectations. She had let go of so much hatred, even for those you would say that she would have every reason to despise and dissociate with forever, and you knew that it was Baekhyun that taught her how to look within the pain to find opportunities to love. It was he, grant it also among others, that had given her reasons to hope for a second chance in life. But woe to him, you thought as you suddenly spoke up. Woe to you, Baekhyun who had inspired that very same wrath however loving and well meaning he had intended to be, you thought solemnly as you announced, “actually I’ll take a cab.” You watched Baekhyun hesitate. His back was to you as he meant to lead the way; he fumbled with their suitcases as he approached the white paint of the sidewalk crossing path leading the long trail from the airport to the car port. You looked away before he looked back and up at you, but you heard his uncertain gulp before she spoke. 

“Oh? It’s no trouble to bring you home and come back quickly for YunHee. Maman knows our plan. It’s no trouble, I promise,” she even smiled at you as she always did, her eyes no longer clouded with unforgiving, agitated even darkened clouds. You shook your head, turning back to hail one of the taxis that waited for a willing traveler. The man started up at your signal, barreling down from behind the slowly loading tourist bus, and reuniting families and the security detail directing the haphazard afternoon traffic. You shrugged, pretending to yawn, you hoped convincingly enough. “It’s a long drive and it would be unfair to make you drive that far. I’ll see you. Kiss my niece hello and goodnight for me?” You said to her as you moved towards the taxi where the man had already popped open his trunk in anticipation for your suitcase. He wiped his hands clean against his jeans before reaching for it. You took your time, turning yourself completely away, stowing your coat on the seat, before looking back up at them. Baekhyun couldn’t hide his look of growing apprehension as he watched you go. Usually he would bound towards you and hug you goodbye with that carefree puppy eyed grin, but he now braved a timid smile and waved from his safe post behind the suitcases, “see you soon ____. Be safe getting home please.” “I’ll see you later then,” you nodded at him accepting his wary stance and then you looked at her. She smiled, again for you though it still didn’t cool the heat in her eyes, leaning forward to kiss you goodbye. You caught her quickly, pressing an incisive “take it easy,” into her cheek which you felt her stiffen against. Take it easy on him. —————————- Home in your apartment at last, you waited for Junmyeon. You had washed all of your travel clothes, cleaned and put up your suitcase, changed your sheets, scrubbed your floors, checked the mail, and cleared out the trash, shampooed your hair, and fixed dinner. “He should be here any minute,” you chewed at your bottom lip, looking up again at the time on the clock that read well past the 7:30PM dinner date you had set, above your oven where two servings of deliciously prepared coq a vin waited to be enjoyed. You had hoped to still be cleaning while Junmyeon arrived from Elixier, where you had just called him to check in after settling back in with the groceries. “Everything is running smoothly here so I may get there earlier after I meet with Dad-” “I could always just go to your place tonight. That’s easier isn’t it? It’s not as far as you would have to drive to get here. Plus! You needed groceries-” “I’ve already requested groceries for next weekend when we’ll stay at my place, ____. But I appreciate that,” you heard a sincere smile in his voice, and a slight chuckle at the idea of you going overboard to spoil him, as if that were unusual between you two. “Ok, but definitely 7:30 right? We can push it back if-” “I’ll be there sweetheart. At 7:30,” he stated in a deliberately thoughtful tone which you knew to mean that he couldn’t wait to see you. But it’s 8:30 now… Don’t cancel don’t cancel don’t cancel not again don’t- His name flashed across your screen underneath a time that read 8:45PM as your phone buzzed, and beeped within the clasp of your palms. “Jun?” “_______, sweetheart. How is dinner coming?” He intoned honeyly. “You’re not coming are you?” You frowned impulsively. “Sweetheart I-“ “Can I at least bring you the dinner I made? I got everything ready for us. You promised me when we got back we could-” “I’m sorry. I am. I…things are difficult with Dad. I…I want to see you. I do. I’m sorry. I can’t get away right now. The board is here and we’re discussing damage control after my brother’s blunder. They need me for this evening-” Your emphatic I need you too died on your lips. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth to release the clenching of your teeth. “How is everything going? Will you be able to rectify the damage he caused? Surely we could make up for what was lost with investments from-” “I don’t know if I should risk that. Minseok advised against it…I can’t compromise us all…” he began to drift away though you could clearly still hear him pacing in the hall outside of where the meeting must have been taking place in Junmyeon’s father’s private hospital room. He had been transferred to a private facility given the green light from his initial medical treatment team following your visit prior to your departure to Berlin for the New Year’s Gala. Junmyeon left the night before you all were scheduled to return back to your home bases to check in with his father and Elixier, and promised you that once he saw to his affairs, that you two would have more time just to be together. Successive no phone, no internet weekends for two beginning at your place. You had dreamed of the hours you would spend together this weekend and pushed all fantasies outside of primarily face to face cuddling off of the possible agenda. Once the taxi dropped you off, you had purposefully headed back into town. You had fully stocked your refrigerator, cleaned every inch of your place, and stopped into a boutique for a walk-in bikini sugaring because luckily you could call in a favor after regular hours. All of that for a “can’t tonight, sorry?” You remembered again the palpable rage within her (Lyon Reader) eyes and wondered again how long you would struggle to maintain your calm with this chafing rejection. The reason for these purposefully planned upcoming weekends was because the year before had been dedicated to your new mutual endeavors, The Pathcodes. An entire year and some you both had spent working through every detail of every venture that culminated in the last and first evening of the business calendar year. “Will you be back this weekend at all?” Your voice was barely above a discernible whisper but he “mhm’d” in reply almost out of instinct. “I’ll be back on Sunday at the latest, sweetheart,” that word was starting to make your palms itch and tremble. So many “I wish I could-” “I want you” “please come home” “why are you doing this?!” swallowed screams pressed and bruised against your rib cage forcing a weighted exhale past your lips into the receiver. “I know it’s not ideal ____ but please be patient with me,” he had the audacity to sound…was he really annoyed at you? Really?! “….but I have been…and I am being patient,” you felt your brow furrow as you scratched your bare toe folded underneath you with a free hand, taking your time to enunciate every word and pause. “I can’t-” “No. Stop. It’s not I can’t. It’s I will not. I choose not to. It’s a choice Jun. Everything we do is a choice. I chose to come home and prepare for my boyfriend and I to have a weekend together. Because we had an agreement and I chose to honor that. You chose to take care of family business. You are telling me that now you will not honor our agreement instead of coming to a compromise with me for tonight since we planned to take the weekends off together. I understand the circumstance but I am obviously pretty fucking frustrated with you. You have to allow me that-” “Allow it? I told you that I can be there on Sunday at the latest, if you were listening. I am saying that tonight is not something that I am able to compromise. Listen I don’t want to fight _____,” “You’re not even home for us to properly fight and makeup, first of all. That’s the real problem. I know that this is a difficult time. I saw what was happening before we left or don’t you remember that I was with you at the hospital? I know your family doesn’t necessarily want me around. I know that that is awkward for you and for us. But what concerns me now is if you even want me around? Do you even want to be with me anymore Jun? We have gone months without truly spending time together unless for Elixier, or the Pathcodes. Am I not worth your time? Why do I feel like I’m fighting to stay in something that you have already left?” You would not apologize for the way you rushed through your statements. You would not apologize for the way his breath hitched in his chest, signaling his growing irritation with your brazen accusations. I want you to come home and yell at me and scream at me. I want to fight. I want to fight for us. I want us to cry and pick each other up and love each other down all night, all day, all weekend. You remembered the slight fear in Baekhyun’s eyes as he watched you go but you noticed too the resolve in his shoulders as if he had decided, “well let’s get on with it.” Here now on the phone with you Junmyeon cursed. “Damn it ______! I know and I am sorry. I am. I can’t fix this situation going on here and be with you at home tonight. I am choosing to fix this first so I can come home and be at home with you. I promised you my undivided attention. I have not forgotten that promise. But I have to be here now. I have a duty to fulfill. That is irrefutable. On Sunday I will be there. I promise you. Please. I don’t want to fight. Just please tell me that you will wait for me until then, ok? Let’s talk more on Sunday, ok?” He waited for you to acknowledge him and you waited out his patience. “______,” he groaned in a tone that made you think that he knew that you were stalling him if just to hear his voice. Didn’t he feel guilty? “I love you,” you whispered and he sighed, his voice softening as he responded in mutual passionate exasperation, “I love you too.” __________ You still ate your helping of coq a vin, and dipped into a pint of chocolate and cherry glacé unabashedly, hiccuping and nodding off on your sofa. You jolted from an awkward nap dream wherein Junmyeon’s mother asked you to choose between Jun and his brother, and nearly clotheslined the emptied glacé carton, ceramic dinner plate and utensils, wine bottle and glass of white wine you had begrudgingly indulged from your coffee table. Rubbing sleep from your swollen eyes and now dry cheeks, you slowly cleared your dishes and trash, washing them and placing them in their cupboards and the bin neatly. Your slippered footsteps echoed almost mockingly in your flat as though you were realizing how truly empty it was now that you had slowed from running around and around during the weeks that had been being employed as a full time investigative journalist some years ago now. How much had you given away thinking you had gained something priceless? Were you making room for love or was it emptying you? 11:25pm huh? I can’t even drink myself into the next morning anymore? You trudged towards your bedroom, shedding your clothes as you brushed past the door and moved along toward your bathroom. Without looking at the mirror you pulled your brush through the flattened curls you’d shaped of your hair, and wiped the rouge from your lips and cheeks. You ached for him more so than being angry, and that fact alone frustrated you. Why am I so willfully compliant? Why do I wait for him? I know what it is to be abandoned. Forgotten. Unwanted. Why am I waiting? Why? How can I possibly want him right now? How? How could I possibly WANT him right now? Sitting at the edge of your clawfoot tub, you turned both of the faucets until a tolerable mixture of heat and cool water filled the bath. You gently descended, feeling a rush of relief envelope you once you were submerged. And then you started crying again. You hadn’t known your parents. You remembered fragments of your mother’s voice and your father’s face. You thought you had once had siblings. Sometimes the smell of fire and seared flesh was coupled with the sound of her voice. But you were also sure that children made up stories to comfort themselves, and people in general did so because it was easier to live believing a lie. You remembered your mère, the only woman whom you had called mère, visiting you at some place you could never remember being a distinctive orphanage or otherwise. It seemed like you just came to be with her and she just took care of you. Well minded you more so in that she provided a home, an education, nutritious diet, and a wholesome environment for you. But you never had holidays together or with relatives. You didn’t know anyone with your last name or could ever trace a lineage. “What trifling, foolish thoughts. This is some American design on education? I will have a word with the directeur about this sham of a project,” she spat at your family tree project in primary school. You had come home so excited to interview her with the questionnaire your teacher had drawn up. You couldn’t wait to meet her at the school gate, and bounced excitedly all along the street as you walked home risking her chiding for your wild behavior. You showed her the papers as soon as you had finished with your dinner, prattling on about how you hoped she could show you now that you had washed your dishes. You had been so hoping for family photos to be revealed and long lost stories of your mysterious ancestors. No sooner had she spoken with said director though were you removed to a private academy wherein you met your dearest and fondest lifetime friend. Somehow the topic of the project found its way into your first conversation at lunch during your first week, and you shyly revealed to your classmates that you were adopted. Most of the children around you shrugged, though some did eye you in a pitying oh-my-what-a-sad-sorry-thing-that-you-don’t-know-your-family way. She (Lyon Reader) watched you after you said it and slid her chair closer to yours sharing her extra juice box since you drank yours for snack earlier. “I hope you feel welcome here. It’s hard when you feel alone,” she smiled, her chubbiest pearliest smile just for you, and you knew then that family can also be those you meet in life. Family. A concept so elusive but essential to your being was understood differently by you and Junmyeon. You cherished your dearest ___ (Lyon Reader.) Your love for her as pure as a sister and as deep as if the blood within your veins had always been one in the same. And Junmyeon reflected that in his relationships with his dearest friends as you had witnessed. His family, his blood family, however was something unknown and apart from him altogether but unlike you in every way. He felt that he owed them his life no matter the insult or sneers he endured. Your mère, your only legal representation of family, did not deserve your life, in your opinion however. You granted her respect, because you knew that without her you may have never survived wherever it was that she had found you. You had never achieved finding any record of your birth or that place you could hardly remember. On a dare and in search of the truth with ___ (Lyon Reader) one summer vacation, you went to the library to research the whereabouts of your origin. “It’s for your ultimate happiness!” She had declared, with a bravado that insinuated that she would brave the very bowels of the world, and pull apart every floorboard of secrecy to unearth the home you never knew you lost. But even that research meant nothing to you, looking back at it now. Not when you considered what you gained. Junmyeon however could not resist his desire to know more of what his father had suddenly revealed. To hell with what would come of such knowledge. He wanted to know why his uncle would willingly give up a son. What harm could an illegitimate child do? Why did his father have to marry the mother of his nephew who was also his mother? What could such a marriage achieve? He wanted to know more about his family history, and more about their business. He wanted to map it out in front of him to see what had been hidden in such a deceptively innocent manner so uncharacteristic to him of his family. While he had been brought up under the guise that he would always come second to his brother’s future, the very fact of this methodically perpetuated deception had robbed him of his relationship not only with his mother, and his brother but his father. You could see him wondering as he made love to you, driving himself deeper and ever deeper into you until you cried out in anguished ecstasy, the evening you first returned from the hospital somehow surviving a car ride after that bombshell of news, “who am I? What am I doing here?” At the thought of him touching you, and kissing you again, you blushed, your hands happening to slip over your breasts with your soaped up cloth once again. You purposefully ran the cloth over and under, cupping and smoothing your skin smothered in lathered bubbly soap, until the budding of inspired sensation began to spread across every nerve within your body. “Mmmph,” you thought of the way he looked at you with his reddened cheeks, and the sweat between the brows above his darkly impassioned eyes as his mouth closed around your bare nipples. “Haa…” you exhaled writhing as the water slipped between your thighs, gliding over your softening, warming, tenderest places. You remembered his touch there, always gentle at first before gradually building in its intensity. You heard his gasps at your moans as you slipped your fingers along the current of the water, finding the most precious point. “Junmyeon…” you moaned into the quiet bath, hearing the lapping of water echoing its slippery reply. Quickening your pace, you felt the water rising with each breath, pushing you and pulling against you as he did when he, when you, until finally you cried out wishing he was again kissing your lips, your closed eyes, your neck whispering drowsily as he pressed his lips against you that, “I love you. I love you ____.” _______________ You woke again to the incessant buzzing of your cell phone on your coffee table. You turned over after the second call and a glance at your bedside clock that read 2:15am. Ughhhhhh!!!!!! Gathering your blankets around you as a gown since you hadn’t worn anything from the bath to your bedroom, you journeyed back to the living area where your phone buzzed again. “Is that-” You hurried to answer. “Baekhyun?” A horrible pause. “Baekhyun-” “_____, I’m sorry about the hour that I’m calling. Is she there with you?” You realized he had covered the receiver with his hand as you heard him talking to someone while he waited for your answer. “No. No she’s not here. Is something…she didn’t call me,” you hesitated to ask when you knew that something was obviously wrong if he couldn’t find her. I should have stayed with them. I shouldn’t have told her to take it easy. I should have- “She’s not at her flat. She’s not at maman’s. She’s not at the office. I am about to call the police. She won’t answer my calls. She won’t answer maman either. I just…” You could tell he was waiting until he had walked far enough away from the confused voice he had been talking to. “We had a fight again, and she stormed out. She didn’t even take the car. She just went. I made a mistake. I…I can’t find her _____. I-” you could hear the tears returning that had abated, his breathing ragged. You heard him trying to open the car door and fumbling with the handle, hearing the resounding kiss of the metal of the dropped keys against the pavement. “I’m sure she’s ok. Let me call her ok? Don’t go anywhere,” you said quickly transferring to your home phone. She picked up on the third ring. “I’m almost outside your door. Can you open it please?” She asked, her voice sounding eerily calm. “He’s calling to ask where you are. I’m going to tell him that I found you,” you informed her though you knew that she knew you were not asking her permission. “Baekhyun she’s here. She just came to my place-” “How did she get there?! Is she ok? Is she-? I-” “Let me look first ok?” You interrupted jolting from your sofa to scurry to the front door. You heard footsteps outside after a car door slammed and looked down to see a taxi slowly pulling away from your street. Her clothes looked wet no doubt from the misty midnight air, and her rumpled hair was pulled into a sloppy makeshift bun. Her expression was again composed, and resolute though her eyes wandered everywhere as she made her way to your staircase. “She looks ok. Maybe a little tired. Is YunHee-” “She’s home with me. Rather the nanny and maman. I’ll get back then…I…could you tell her that I’m sorry. I am so sorry. And I-” “I will. I promise you,” you whispered to him as you opened the door. __________ After a bath and the last helping of coq a vin you had saved for Junmyeon she was ready to talk. You told her when she had come inside what Baekhyun’s message was and tried to ignore the way she glared at the floor as if she wanted to set it ablaze. You waited for her to begin as she picked nonchalantly at her nails and slowly grew irritated at her callous exhales. “What in the world could be so awful that you would hitchhike it to my house in the middle of the damn night ____(Lyon Reader)?” you began abruptly. She shook her head as she ran a hand over her face, her features pinched. “I can leave-” “And just where would you go? What? Do you expect me to wait up for you to come back? I’m not Baekhyun damn you,” you frowned at her and then she glared at you. “Yea I said it. So come on then. What happened?!” You demanded, tossing your phone to the middle of your bed between you and her. She looked down at the blank screen, and for a moment said nothing before dissolving into soundless sobs. You waited another beat, before sighing yourself as you climbed closer to her to comfort her. You started just by rubbing her shoulders, and listened until she settled down before you tried again in a lower tone. “What happened?” “I thought after the New Years gala we would talk. Before the gala there were always excuses but afterwards since I knew ____ (Berlin Reader) hadn’t scheduled anything for us to attend to and so I planned to talk with him-” “Mhm I could see that at the airport after we got back-” “No…after we got back…___ I am really tired of the level of invasive this thing is becoming,” She suddenly fumed, the dimming fire returning to her speech, her lip curling at the invisible culprit who had reappeared. You pulled away to look at her. “Invasive…?” Oh. “Who said-” “Minseok. Minseok had the nerve to say that I was being unfair and I should know better than to think Baekhyun was not doing all he could for us. He wanted me to mind my attitude…where does Baekhyun get off airing our business to someone like him.” Many a time had the two of you argued over something diminutive in comparison but you knew from circumstance that she was not one to stay angry for long. But with Baekhyun it was different. Involving someone who was not considered family to her, was different. The clarity of that jilted you somewhat. “Did you tell Baekhyun, first of all?” you asked and she tsked at you, her eyes scarily reducing to venomous slits as if to say “obviously.” “He had the nerve to defend him-” “He defended him?!” “He said he didn’t mean it that way…” You rolled your eyes in mutual agitation. “We were doing fine, just fine before all of this. And now…I’m just so frustrated with Baekhyun and this lack of assertiveness. I just…” “What’s the matter though? Really? Haven’t you talked about this with him?” “I thought we had…I don’t know ____ he just got so comfortable,” she frowned at the word as if it was sitting in front of her shrugging away her judgement. “But when you’re happy in a relationship-” “Of course there’s comfortable as in a certain level of intimacy and understanding of each other but ___ he just…he changed…even after YunHee was born and I just…” She seemed to be battling herself to not say what she was afraid to think. “Can’t you make room for the way he is changing? Does he not still take care of you both? Knowing Baekhyun I know he isn’t going to step out on you. He has never had eyes for anyone since he met you. He would never compromise your relationship and willingly hurt you. He is faithful to you, ___ (Lyon Reader.)” “But why do I feel like I am settling for less than who he is? Why does it feel like he’s different but not because he’s becoming a better man but simply because he…I don’t know. It’s just…he bought the house we talked about but the way Minseok paraded around in it…I just…” She grimaced as she wiped away at stray tears. There are holes in our hearts that our families have made. Places we desperately want filled with the love that was promised. And it’s those places we oftentimes force our relationships to go without realizing that that person is doing their best, and loving us with their all. Well…mostly…sometimes. Sometimes we don’t want to recognize the mirror that our lover is. What shortcomings we see in others that we cannot care are often our own grievous downfalls. Where we fail to accept our lovers, we often fail to embrace ourselves. “I just…I miss us ____. When he makes love to me now I…the last time we were together I came like always and he seemed satisfied with that. But when he drifted to sleep I kept touching myself, I wanted more and I have never done that before ____. Never. I look at him at the breakfast table smiling at me over something I made for him and I am mad. I watch him playing with YunHee and I am frustrated at the time he takes showing her how to play the piano. The way he holds her hands and presses her fingers down on the keys. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-” her voice stuttered to a stop as she started to cry again, a pitiful rasping moan. The mention of lovemaking made you groan inwardly, but you heard an echo of what she had once said as a girl. That she wished her father had loved her and she was honestly jealous of girls who knew their father’s love. The research you conducted led her not only to your non existent family but to her own father; information she obsessed over for months before finally calling him to demand a meeting. To you she was not unhappy because Baekhyun loved their daughter, it was because she once again felt like something lacked in her even though everything had gone the way she had hoped…for the most part. She had not found the peace she wanted. Whereas you… “_____ you love this man. You absolutely do. There is no denying that. But instead of telling him what you thought-” “Why can’t he just-” “I don’t know why. But he tries does he not? Even now he called for you. He was at your apartment, he had just stopped by your office, he was even brave enough to go to maman to look for you and you know that must have been terrifying, and I have no doubt that he was about to get in the car to come here after calling the police if I did not answer my phone. He is not a superhuman. He has his flaws. But he loves you without question. Everything you had ever hoped and dreamed for in a father when we were little, our precious YunHee has in Baekhyun. Is that not a blessing-” She nodded but shook her head, again wiping away tears. “How is it any different if we are not married?” “Then stop delaying the ceremony and get on with it!” You cried and she laughed at your sudden shout making you smile at least. “I want some time away from him even so. I want to think about this. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel the same,” she went on and you laughed weakly, unable to hold back your emotions as you had hoped to spare her the time she needed to come down from crisis. “____? Darling what’s wrong?” Her tears forgotten she embraced you instead, cradling you where you turned into her embrace. “I’m sorry I…” “Is it Junmyeon? Has he still not come by?” She sounded truly worried and you knew that she was. She pressed your hair away from your face, gently combing your hair back with her fingers before she began to scratch your scalp. You cuddled into her, sighing, “I don’t know when he’ll have the time.” “What the hell does that even mean? Surely he has time to see you,” she intoned irritable on your behalf. You sat up to look at her, “I’m not sure that he loves me or that he would stick beside me if his family demanded different. I think given the ultimatum that he would leave me.” She shook her head at you, her eyes tearful as she heard your confession. “What really holds us together?” You mused aloud ruefully to which your dear friend (Lyon Reader) countered, “even before YunHee was born Baekhyun and I were committed. It’s not just a child that binds two people together. I mean look at my mom and Dad you know…?” She meant to comfort and rule out your fears but you said the truth on your heart anyway. “I worry that I have just now only realized that whether there was a child or not…Junmyeon and I…I’m not sure we are built of the stuff to last.” ______________ Saturday was spent in, serenely. __ (Lyon Reader) cooked each meal for you both and called home to speak with YunHee who was quite confused and upset that Mommy was not home to hear her piano practice as translated by her nanny. “Baekhyun will be taking her to his grandmother’s this week, and will stay until next weekend. He plans to be away on business the following week as well,” you overheard the nanny inform ___ (Lyon Reader) who was slowly pouring the tea she had brewed for you both. “Oh? Is Baekhyun there-” “He is not at home at the moment, but he will be returning shortly from a visit with his father,” the woman explained to which ___ (Lyon Reader) only nodded. “Thank you for passing along the information. I’ll be home tomorrow morning-” “Wonderful. Mr. Byun was hoping you would be home by then so that he could travel with the whole family together-” “Absolutely. I will be there…” she answered before hanging up the phone. “Make the most of what you have while you have it,” you reminded her as soon as she returned with the tray. ___________ She went early Sunday morning, leaving with sunshine and birdsong in her wake in a mood of both restlessness, and slight regret. “I do love him. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea…” Yea I know. “But you sound like you have cold feet still. Take your time to think it through but remember what’s at stake while your relationship with Baekhyun is uncertain…don’t neglect YunHee…everything you do affects her,” you murmured into her neck as you hugged her goodbye. “Mm,” she took a step back from your hug, holding your hands in hers as she looked at you. You both stood, quietly observing one another. She leaned in for other hug, wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you closer now. “Let’s both not give up, ok?” But I don’t really feel like that’s up to me. _____________ Back inside your apartment you hesitated to close the door on the morning light. The breeze outside smelled so good. The bright sky blue promise of a new day tempted you. Your yearning for truth pulled at the hem of your robe. The sweet smelling breeze lifted your hair, and caressed your cheeks. Run. But you closed the door after a gaping breath. I did promise her that I would try. _____________ “Delivery,” called a male voice after three short knocks on your front door. You had curled into your covers with a couple books Junmyeon left on the bedside table on his side during his last weekend stay with you. The Poetry of Zen, Mouthful Of Birds, The Price of Everything, Don Quixote, and Thinking Fast and Slow were all titles he loved to read over and over while he waited for you to finish with dinner. You smiled as you touched and turned each page, catching whiffs of his cologne impressed into the spine where he’d crushed the open book against him during a nap. “Coming!” You called back, rising from your bed and pulling your silken robe closed. You peeked through the curtains out the window just beside the door to see a couple of delivery men in simple black dinner suits standing in a line, holding velvet boxes embossed with bouquets of flowers. Your heart lifted at the sight. He is coming! You pulled open the door immediately. “Good afternoon, we have flowers for a Miss ____” “Yes. Yes that’s me,” you breathed in the fragrant scent of cherry blossom bouquets as they entered with boxes sized to hold small table and larger floor arrangements. You watched as they worked, expertly placing the bouquets in vases of clear crystal where they saw spaces fit for the glowing bouquets. The soft rosy pink and white of the buds cast a glowing blush within your seemingly barren apartment. Had the very light of my place been drained from here before now? How had I not noticed? As you stood mesmerized by the resurgence of life around you, you startled at the delivery man who approached you with a small white box lavishly wrapped in billowing red satin ribbon that loosely spiraled from the bow at its top to the floor at his feet. “If you would, Miss,” he gestured you closer, inclining his chin to the box held neatly atop the palms of his gloved white hands. You started forward reaching to touch the lush ribbon and gently pull the delicate bow loose from its arrangement. It spooled out from its hold cleanly and you lifted the lid of the box to see a blinking analog message. “I’m sorry ____. I hope you can forgive me.” Tearfully you looked up at the doorway where he appeared, a halo of the afternoon’s dimming rays framing him as he stood there. “Hi sweetheart,” he grinned, optimistically. _____________ “I want us to really talk about this Junmyeon,” you murmured against his bare chest, feeling happily woozy at the fragrance in the air, and the loved feeling in your limbs. “Then let’s talk now that we’re both awake…” he murmured against your nose, shifting carefully so he could pull you closer. You nipped at his chin as he wrapped his arm more securely around your back, your hand on his chest. Tonight was the first time you had loved openly in your living room. As soon as the delivery men exited your apartment, and he had discreetly closed the door, he referenced that saying before you could open your mouth, “I know it’s been stormy between us and around us lately…but they do say that April showers bring May flowers. And so I’ve brought you all the flowers I have in my heart for you for every time I thought of you, of us, and our love.” You broke into a sprint towards him, colliding with him though he had very obviously braced himself to catch you. “Why do you do this to me? I wait for you for days on end. You just abandoned me. You just desert me now when everything is uncertain? I want to be there with you! Why don’t you consider me as part of your family the way I think of you? Why did you come back here if you acted like you didn’t need me before? What do you take me for-” You whimpered into his sudden kiss, struggling to pull away from him. “I’m not abandoning you-” “Then what?! You meant to tell me I am making this all up?!” “You’re not-” “Then say it, damn it! Make up your mind! You can’t possibly expect me to let this pass just because you brought the garden of Eden to my apartment!” “____” he reached for your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands, willing you to still your trembling limbs as he pressed his forehead against yours. You treasured the scent of aftershave at his neck, and mint on his breath. You had happily noted his duffel bag at his feet, and that he wore your favorite sweatshirt. “I don’t know what to think. My entire world isn’t what I thought and right in the middle of that is us. I don’t know what to say. I love you. I know that. But some part of me is still confused about myself-” “But why not just say that? Why do you shut me out?” “Because you can’t help me. It has nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with us-” “But it does. This…you being confused about who you are means that you are confused about our relationship. Where can I possibly hope to fit into that? How can I possibly comfort you when you don’t even know what you need? Junmyeon…” He dropped his hands to your shoulders, gliding his open palms against you, like water, the tide pulling you ever closer, this time, to his chest where he embraced you deeply. “I can’t ask you to wait for me but I am asking you to wait for me and to be patient with me-” “No,” you pushed against his chest. He mouthed your “no,” back at you as if it was an impossible answer. “No I will not wait anymore Junmyeon…I can’t,” you broke into a sob that sent tremors down your spine. His hopeful gaze splintered at your statement. “I want you. I’m sure of that. I want us. But I don’t want this waiting. I want to really get to know who you are. I want you to get to know me too. I want to grow together. I’m not saying that I need to be there for all of the board meetings or the trade deals though I do want to hear about that too. I know there are things that you have to do. I know there are places that I cannot go. But I’m saying that I want a home together. I want you here every night. I want you to come home to me. Whatever happens to you, happens to me. I accept that fate. I want to get to know this person you are discovering that you truly are. You are mine…and I…I am yours, Junmyeon…” can’t you see that? Can’t you see what a mess this has made of me? How could you sweep into my life like that and then just flutter away? He waited for you to finish, his hands fisted by his sides, his brown eyes dark with tears. He waited another moment longer while you wrapped your arms around yourself, despairing. He took a shaky step towards you and another before kneeling at your feet. “I…I don’t know everything about who I am. Or my family. And I’m scared of what I’ll find…but if you would have me ____. If you would stand by me that would mean everything to me…but I know I don’t deserve it. Not with the way I’ve made you feel…” he spoke in his lowest tones, his voice barely above a whisper in your apartment that never felt infiltrated by the noise of the world around you. Even now there was no sound, there was no one but Junmyeon in your garden. He reached for your waist, pulling himself closer to you, his head resting against your stomach. You bowed into his embrace, your crown meeting his. “I can forgive you. I have enough strength for that. But you cannot do this to me anymore. I am promising to be here from here on out but only if you honor your promise.” Junmyeon gave a weighted exhale at your steady answer, lifting himself as effortlessly as the morning sun above you, his lips meeting yours. ____________

my story..

In 1997, Ravi and Sharda decided to leave the impoverished country of Guyana and proceed on a perilous 2,646 mile trip to The United States of America. If they really wanted to reach the bays of the home of the free they would have to stay in dangerous places with unfamiliar faces. They were forced to find solitude in the violence ridden island of Trinidad and Tobago, where they were robbed of all the money they had worked twelve hours a day for. They were only awarded one meal a day, which was a molded loaf of bread. For four countless months my mother would have to bear the sound of her baby daughter screaming in pain of hunger, while watching her face turn bloodshot red because she was suffocating on her tears. My mother would narrow her vision to the infested piece of bread that laid out in front of her on the disheveled floor, debating if she should feed her daughter or be selfish enough to ease her own grumbling, clawing stomach. She always ended up starving herself just to numb the piercing cries of my babysister, and to keep her mind and body at ease because at two years old you couldn’t possibly consent to this “sin.” With fear running through their veins the only thing that kept my family pushing day after day through these inhumane conditions was faith.

Both my mother and father illegally migrated here in order to achieve the ideal “ American Dream” because the place they once called home could no longer support their dreams of prosperity. My father could no longer tend the sugarcane fields in the beaming hot sun and watch his relatives join the illicit drug market that dominated the country at the time, just to attain enough money to feed their family of thirteen. So he grabbed my two year old sister by the waist, propped her up on her toes and slid barely put together sandals upon her feet. Carrying nothing but my sister and hope upon his back and my mother’s left hand interlocked with his right, he guided them miles on his beaten up feet covered with soot to reach the gateway of freedom: the airport. There he used his last remaining Guyana dollars to purchase two tickets to Trinidad and Tobago, then New York. But little did they know that they broke the skies to only meet a country that did not want them.

On June 17th 2001, my cries radiated across the earth. My parents had officially took the first step in achieving the “ American Dream” by fertilizing a first born American citizen. But although I was given this privilege, a privilege that many would kill for, I didn’t have it easy growing up. There was a point in time where we couldn't afford a roof atop our heads to shield us from the ignorance of the white man. I was too young so I couldn't really tell you when my despair started or how we became both homeless and broken hearted. Or how it feels to be orphaned , forgotten and discarded. As a child of immigrants that’s my dismay. I lack the luxury of shuffling the deck. But what I can tell you is how we made it through our struggles while all the odds were stacked up against us. Every morning my father would bundle himself up in the thin winter coat he was loaned with a thick wool scarf, in order to stand outside of local businesses on Jamaica Avenue, hoping that maybe God would grant him with an opportunity for work. Hoping that maybe a rich man would see potential in his revolutionary brown skin and employ him for good. Thank God, he finally landed a job & became an American citizen after countless months of praying at the altar, while I watched. He would kneel on the velvet rug before the Murti’s of Lord Shiva, Ganesh, Hanuman, Mother Durga, Ganga, Lakshmi and Saraswati. He would grab and then clasp the Rudraksha beads in his battered hands and chant 108 times “ Om Namaha Shivaya, Om Namaha Shivaya, Om Namaha Shivaya.” He finally built his own construction business named after me, his American dream fulfilled. I finally could grow up in a house with my parents and siblings and indulge in the American way of life. I remember the first time I entered my current household. I reluctantly walked through the cramped hallway and up the torn apart staircase to our new doorway. On the other side of that doorway held new opportunities and chances for us to amount to our true greatness. The house wasn’t perfect, but it was still my home. I was reluctant to get too attached to that house because I knew that at some point we wouldn’t be able to afford this nest and foreclosure would slap us on our palms. But when I later realized that we were now financially stable and my dad’s business was only beginning to grow, I ran my hands up and down the house's chipped creme wallpaper and whispered confidently “ The worst is finally over.” But little did I know that the worst had just begun.

Now for my mother? She still has not found stability in this country. I follow her to every meeting with her lawyer and to every court date. I stand before the judge every year with tears strolling down my face out of pure anger and desperation for them to understand that I could not possibly survive without my mother. Mine and my brother's medical needs would not be tended to if not for her. There would be no plate of food upon my kitchen table if it wasn’t for her because my father barely makes it home in time to even say “ Goodnight” most nights. Everyday when I come home from school, the two of us sit in front of the television, eyes locked on the screen, hoping. Hoping that maybe Donald Trump changed his rouge stance on immigration. But when we see that his rhetoric is only getting more intense, I lay her down on the cream couch and start quoting Bob Marley by saying “ Every little thing is gonna be alright”, until she falls asleep and her tears dissolve into the couch fabric. My sister? She’s facing deportation because our idiotic presidential administration declares dreamers as negligible. My six year old nephew comes running into my room choking up on feelings he has no idea how to explain, but the question “ What will I do without mommy?” manages to escape his lips.

Unless you have experienced this first hand you have no idea how infuriated one feels under such circumstances. This angers me because I have to pick up the pieces of a broken household. I have to watch my mother battle depression because the government refuses to recognize her past struggles and current aspirations. She was physically abused day after day in Guyana because she was 17 and pregnant. She was oppressed by a man who beat her with a metal rod in her stomach at sundown because he didn’t want to see her and her child become women with powerful voices. She could not get a job or a proper education because her dreams were halted owed to a toxic marriage. At that time in Guyana, when a woman was to get married they were automatically deemed as their counterpart’s property. My mother trekked 2,646 miles just for that legacy to continue on in America. The government won't give her amnesty so she has to continue to hide behind a man who doesn’t even love her.

You don’t know how hard it is to know that your 22 year old old sister may get deported while her life just began in this country. You don’t know the gut wrenching pain of watching your loved ones condemned in a household while in actuality you know that if the government wanted to grasp them, these doors and four walls wouldn’t grant them with solidarity. Immigrants and particularly my family have worked harder than privileged American citizens to attain the same golden spoon they were born with, but still are denied as humans. Are they really that fickle, so full of disease? If you prick us, do we not bleed? I have grown up witnessing the biggest genocide in world history… “ The Annihilation of the American Dream.” Yet I do not let my anger reach it’s climax. The men that split my family’s hope, did not rip MY tongue out. Instead of acting irrational, I stand here on 5th avenue in front of the Trump Tower peacefully protesting with my picket sign which says in bolded letters, “ THIS I BELIEVE.”

- Seema 🕊10/6/17