#inr

The knock at your door came early in the day, exactly 2 days after the house show. You opened it to see Sam standing there, a look of determination on his face, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched.

“We need to talk,” he said, breathless, like the words had to be forced out of him.

“Alright,” you said cautiously, inviting him in, sitting down at the head of the bed. “Am I in trouble?” You asked, though humor didn’t quite manage to reach your words.

“No. But I’m sick of this. I’m sick of all of this. I’ve said it before, but we never fucking talk, and I’m tired of the cycle. We can’t keep doing this.”

Every worst case scenario raced through your mind. He was being a bit too vague, and it scared you. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He said it far too loud, blurted out like he couldn’t stop it if he tried. “I mean, fuck, I meant to say that a bit more, like– oh, god damn it, can I start over? That was so lame, I–”

“I'd love to.” You didn’t even have to think. Not that you wanted to go over all of it again, anyway. A smile creeped up in the corners of your lips as it all registered, slowly. He finally said it. You never really thought he would. He kept on babbling for a second, and you watched him, not minding it at all. You liked watching him speak.

“Wait.” He stopped, blinking at you a few times. “Did you say yes?”

You nodded, feeling the hot sting of tears in your eyes. “I did.” Your voice broke on both syllables.

“Hey, why are you crying?” He took your face in his hands, his touch so familiar and gentle that the tears started to fall freely, running over his thumbs and down his wrist. “Stop. Or I’m gonna cry too,” he laughed, his voice sounding just as broken as yours, his brow tilted up as he fought back tears of his own.

“Sorry,” you laughed in response. “I never thought you’d ask. But, how–” your voice caught on the lump in your throat, and you had to pause. “How are you ever going to forgive me?”

“I already have.” He stopped fighting it, and now both of you were crying, with smiles on your faces. “I’m sick of this. I’m sorry I sucked at being there for you. I’m sorry for everything. I promise you won’t ever have to go through anything like that again.”

“I should be the one apologizing!” You wrapped your fingers around his wrists. “I–”

“Enough!” He half-shouted, half-hissed, pressing a finger to your lips. “We’re both sorry. That’s it. We don't have to say anything more than that.”

You stared at him for a long while, seeing the stars behind his eyes. The ones that he’d pointed out to you the first night you’d met. Every part of him was so familiar to you, the curve of his jaw, the shape of his brows, the length of his eyelashes. You could see his face in everything, in the bark of every tree and the petal of every flower, in the way the sun warmed the Earth and the stars cast soft light on the trees in the forest. There simply was no life without Sam.

“I love you,” he said, giggling a bit as he did, and sniffling. “Sorry I’m crying. I probably look like a loser right now.”

“I love you too.” You threw yourself into his arms, planting a kiss to his lips. It was like coming home, the way he kissed you. Soon he was under you, your legs on either side of his waist, his hands splayed on your back. “Have I ever told you you’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen?”

The hint of a blush colored his cheeks. “Stop it.”

“It’s true.” You ran your thumb along his cheek, down the side of his neck, down to the peek of collarbone visible through the neck of his shirt. “Every part of you.” As if it was second nature, your fingers trailed down the length of his torso, down to where your thighs pressed against his hips.

“Hold on, pretty girl. There’s something else I forgot to ask,” he said, a sly smile on his lips.

“What's that?” You wiped your eyes and leaned your way down to kiss him gently.

“Do you want to come with us on tour?” He asked it quietly, with a hint of hesitation, like he thought you were going to say no.

“Are you serious?” You exclaimed, sitting back upright. “Like, actually for real?”

He nodded against the pillows. “Very serious. We got the deal. Tour starts a week after school ends.”

“Oh my god, Sam– of course I want to come with!” The idea of getting to travel to places you've never been, even though it was technically business, was like the deal of a lifetime to you. You hadn't gotten to travel much, and you'd only seen a few corners of the country. “Are you sure that’s okay? I mean, I don’t want to take up too much space, and are you sure you can afford an extra person? I don’t want to bankrupt you before you guys can even get your feet on the ground.”

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, baby. I already talked to all of them about it. Jake gave his approval. We can bring you. And I think we could use a neutral party so we don’t all kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call your girlfriend the neutral party.”

He opened his mouth to speak, and paused. “My girlfriend. Right. That’s you.”

“That is me,” you breathed.

“Then you’re coming with us. We’ll figure out the details later. You should go back to what you were doing.” He tapped your wrist with two fingers. You got the message, and reached for his waistband once again.

* * *

The end of the semester came almost too quickly. You scraped by well enough on your finals to keep your near-perfect GPA intact. Sam skated by on the bare minimum, but he was far more than smart enough to have extracted everything necessary from the classes. Not that he would use it, evidently, since the band was already going on tour. Things were hectic from the moment you walked out of your last final. Sam had been waiting there for you when you left the building, cheerful smiles on both of your faces.

Sam and Danny had helped you move your things from the dorm, loading up their cars with your belongings piled haphazardly wherever they could fit. There wasn’t time to pack it all and move it back home, so it was all shoved into a corner of the house. It was surreal, seeing all the things you’d used to make your dorm into something resembling a home, all piled up in a corner to be left there for months.

In the coming week, you lived at the house. You’d been apprehensive when Sam had suggested it, saying you could probably convince your parents to rent out a room for you somewhere for a week. He called the mere notion silly – you’d be living with the family all summer, better get used to it now. It had gone a lot smoother than expected. Things were tense at first, but it was all in your head.

Jake had sat you down the second day, when Sam was out with Josh picking up the trailer they’d bought for the tour. You’d been in Sam’s room, sitting on his bed, reading a book he’d suggested but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on. A soft knock at the door caught your attention, and there had been Jake, standing in the doorway with one hand in his pocket.

“Hey,” he said, softly.

“Hi, Jake.” You’d avoided him for the past 48 hours like he had the plague. You knew it would catch up with you eventually, but this had come sooner than expected.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sounds like I’m about to be scolded.” You said it to ease your own worries, but you couldn't even absorb your own humor.

“No scolding.” He made his way into the room, pulling the chair away from Sam’s desk close to the bed. He sat backwards on it, letting his elbows rest on the back of the chair. “Just want to clear the air.”

You sighed, setting the book off to the side and facing Jake. “Alright.”

“I told you I’d make it easier for you,” he began. “I talked to Sam. Told him to man up. Seems like he took my advice.”

“You did?” The memory of that night flashed through your mind like a whip of razor wire. The cold, the snow, the way your hand had bled onto the ice, the way you’d wanted to smack the shit out of Jake. Subconsciously, you ran your fingers over the fading remnants of the scar on your palm.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. For my part in all this. It was never my intention to hurt either of you the way I did.” There was deep remorse behind his eyes, and a hint of something else. A deep platonic love, you’d eventually come to realize.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too. Sorry it all turned out the way it did.”

“It seems the two of you figured it out, at least.”

You nodded, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “We did. We couldn’t just keep running around in circles.”

“I’m happy for you.” He smiled, and you searched his eyes for any sign of dishonesty. You found none, only the faintest glimmer of jealousy, but that was his to deal with. “Both of you. We all are.”

“Thank you, Jake.”

“And,” he began, lacing his fingers together. “It’ll be a weight off of all of us that the two of you are finally together. Maybe he’ll stop talking about you so much.” He cracked a smile.

“He’ll probably talk about me even more now. Sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Anyway, are you sure you want to come with us?”

“I’m certain.”

“It’s not going to be easy living. Far from a vacation.”

You shook your head with a smile. “If you think you’re gonna talk me out of it, you might as well give up right now.”

“Not trying to talk you out of it. I just don’t want you to be miserable when you realize what it’s actually like.”

“Well, it’s not like any of you have much idea what you’re doing, either. We’ll all figure it out together.”

He nodded, looking away for a moment and chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You’re right about that. And I know it would tear Sam up to not have you around. If your heart is set, I won’t try to change it. Just be prepared.”

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

* * *

Tour was both the greatest and worst thing that ever happened to you. Hotels, sightseeing, shows. Sweating in the summer heat of the south, skinny dipping in the ocean with Sam, bumper stickers and shot glasses and fridge magnets filling the few empty spots in your suitcases. Jake had been right, it wasn't like a vacation, but it was damn close. The pressure was low, the shows casual, the venues mostly pleasant and welcoming. The only major downside, in your eyes, was that it was nearly impossible to get alone time with Sam. You’d had to resort to a late night rendezvous in the car on more than one occasion.

The audience at the shows shocked all of you. Word had clearly spread, through some channel of the internet you weren't privy to, and large crowds gathered almost every night. There were a few stinkers in the bunch, where you had to watch them play to crowds of less than twenty people, but those shows were more fun. You became the de facto social media girl for them, taking shitty photos with your phone to post. You were laughably bad with a camera, but the guys loved it anyway.

When the tour was winding down, with the end of the era came remarkable levels of sadness. It was hard to get anyone in the group excited about anything, when you all knew that the fun and stress of the past month and a half were coming to a close. The last show had been a tearful one, and you’d even caught Jake shedding a few tears behind the venue.

Through it all, you and Sam grew together. You somehow became even closer, even more in tune with each other. You never fought, only disagreed, and even that was rare. It felt at times that the two of you were already married, the way you’d been accepted into the fold of the family so flawlessly. You’d sometimes joke about the past, how it would have been such a shame to lose each other. And although you disguised it under jokes, you knew that if things had gone just a bit differently, and you’d lost him, it would never be a laughing matter.

When the tour ended, there was no question about what you’d do. You stayed with them, followed them, moved with them across the country. You’d gotten your first apartment with Sam, and your first house with Sam, all within a few years. You made yourself useful to the band as a creative force, and you finally managed to learn how to take decent photos. You wrote poetry based on their music and explained overarching themes in their universe that would be lost to the average listener. And, most importantly, you were a glue.

A band of brothers is a volatile thing, but your presence made it all easier. You were the neutral party who would talk Josh off the ledge after he ‘quit’ the band, or stop Jake from throwing an empty bottle at Josh’s general location during recording, or defuse the situation after Sam had been a bit too much of a smartass with a joke. You were essential, and they all loved you.

Sam grew his hair longer. Josh cut his. Danny got a girlfriend. Josh got a boyfriend. Changes happened, the fabric of your lives continued to be knitted and pulled along. But through it all, you and Sam were a force that could not be stopped. Your relationship was rock solid, built on a solid frame. Despite the past, you never worried. You knew a man who was willing to fight so hard for you was one you didn't need to worry about. You made music, you made love, and you thanked the universe every day for sending this man in search of a cigarette on one fateful night.

* * *

Italy was beautiful this time of year. Made even more so by the handsome man on your arm. He’d treated you to dinner, had you put on your nicest dress, got your nails done, and was now leading you to some secluded cliff while his hands shook. You knew where this was going, but it still excited you all the same. The view was breathtaking. Clear blue water, rocky cliffs, and a short, completely deserted beach. The sun had just set, the moon starting to cast its beautiful glow over the town.

“That’s a planet,” he said, pointing with the hand that wasn't wrapped in your arms towards a bright light in the sky.

“Which one?” You asked, as the two of you stopped in the sand.

“Dunno. They’ve got a different sky out here.”

Neither of you said anything for a bit, just basking in the moment. The waves lapped against the shore, just quiet enough that you could hear his slightly quickened breathing.

He drew in a breath, hesitated, and spoke. “There’s something I have to ask you.”

Butterflies danced so ferociously in your stomach that it made you nauseous. “What's that, babe?”

You watched him with bated breath and a smile so wide it could split your face in two as he got on one knee, digging in his pocket to pull out a tiny box. Inside was a ring, perfect for you, that checked every box you’d laid out during your brief discussions about rings. Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even spoke.

“Ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew I’d never be able to forget you.” His voice was trembling with nerves, his hands just barely holding the ring steady. “I can’t imagine spending any of my life without you by my side. My love, will you marry me?”

Gwon Ohjin from I’m Not a Regressor

“If he had to ignore his conscience for the price of living, he would do it any day.” - Chapter 13

This novel starts with Lee Shinhyuk, the final Awakener of a vicious battle against “the Heavenly Demon,” choosing to regress to kill the Heavenly Demon before so many people died. To do so, he asks a powerful goddess to bestow him her stigma, and once he regresses… he dies. Right in front of the unawakened, scammer Gwon Ohjin he had met years before. Who also happens to be the Heavenly Demon and the Owner of the Black Heaven, which can devour others’ stigmas.

If you’ve put two-and-two together, you’ll know that Gwon Ohjin’s Black Heaven absorbed the stigma that no one had managed to live through being bestowed, causing said goddess to assume GWON OHJIN is a regressor. He isn’t. He doesn’t know what’s going on. But he IS a scammer, and he sure as hell isn’t going to let the goddess know he stole her stigma off of some dead guy. 

Crimes: thievery, assault, fraud, murder (and probably more lol) 

Wiki Link

Jiang Yexue from Remnants of Filth / Yuwu

Submission: Incest, kidnapping, mass murder, use of the Zhenlong Chess Formation, curse casting, etc.