#anyway if you read all the way to the end you may be entitled to financial compensation (cat pics)

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hybrid!Cow Nagi x Reader

tw: Smut, afab reader, use of she/her, hybrid x human sex, Nagi is a bit mean, but he is also very very in love.

a/n: a small piece of a much bigger fic inspired by this official art. This is just the smut part, but I wanted to get this idea out of my system. It was set in a world where most people are hybrids, and just a few (like reader) are born human. Nagi is one of the local mailmen and the first person to meet you. It was going to be a long, fluffy fic ending with filthy smut. So take just the cherry on top, lol. Maybe one day I'll complete this.

Seishiro isn’t used to rough nights like he isn’t used to scratched knuckles and sore muscles, but it seemed the only right thing to do when that shit poor example of a cat hybrid treated you like that.

He lays on your bed, white hair sprawled on your soft sky-blue pillow, his large-fitting hoodie and blue pants miraculously clean.  “Smell nice” Seishiro thinks, cow ears fluttering when your smell on the pillow hits his nostrils. It’s relaxing after such an intense fight. For that dude, not for him.

“It’s an honor to be my partner-“ “Nobody wants a simple human as a partner, I’m doing it just because my parents asked, and anyway they should thank me since I could get much better-“ “I don’t want a loser nerd as a partner, they should start to dress and eat better-“ 

Seishiro doesn’t remember what came first, but the clear image of you crouched on yourself, lips trembling and fat tears hanging on your lower lashes keeps playing in his head. His tail beat nervously on your mattress, remembering the entitlement in that loser voice. Nagi bites the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood, your pillow now pressed to his face, trying to calm himself down with your smell. His leg twitches, remembering how hard he kicked that douchebag,  straight on his chest, making him hit a table behind and surprising all his friends.

It was already a pain to go out with everyone, but seeing you on a date with a guy that wasn’t him, and treated that badly was the cherry on top of his already poor patience.

“Is everything okay Nagi?” A shiver runs down Seishiro’s body, making every muscle twitch for the surprise. He moves away the pillow, side-eyeing you, before plopping it on his back to look better at you.

“I have to ask two things-“ You nod, prompting him to ask whatever he wants, while sitting on your bed, eyes locked with his ones.

“Call me Seishiro-“ You nod “and-“ He gulps, throat dry from the moment your figure met his sight. “Are you trying to seduce me?” His voice is calm as always, but the intensity of his eyes makes you jump on the spot.

“Seduce? I mean, I usually dress like this to-“ You turn around, not wanting to look at him, embarrassed by his comment. Your sheer nightgown, with cute sunflowers embroidered on it and matching panties, left very little to the imagination after all. Not to talk about you being braless, a sight that sent in short circuit his brain.

 “Usually, so not always-”  He whispers, almost into your ear. He can see a shiver running down your spine making you arch. The desire to run a finger from your neck to your lower back is tempting.

He lay his chin on your shoulder, letting out a sigh, annoyed by the whirlwind that is happening in his stomach. “Can I kiss you?” His greyish eyes lock with yours, trying to read your emotions. Seishiro doesn’t move, waiting to understand your intentions.

You nod, and to Seishiro's surprise, you make the first move. Your soft lips touch his ones, it’s a butterfly touch that lasts way too little for the white-haired guy's tastes. “Is it good?” Your voice breaks a little and Nagi has to keep himself from pinching your cheek. “Yeah, but let’s improve.” He mutters back, full lips locking with yours, tasting a different shade of love from the previous one. Seishiro’s eyes are closed but he can feel your softer hands cupping his cheeks, before sliding lower to his chin and neck. He worries that you may have pyrokinetic powers since every time you touch his naked skin he seems to get hotter.

You moan into his mouth when his big hands start to wander, one groping your mound, protected by his rough touch thanks to your thin nightgown. The other pushed you towards the mattress, making you both slide lower into your bed.

“Sei-“ You break the kiss, breath heavy and barely open eyes, just to notice your lover laying at your side, the end of his tail tickling your right thigh.

“Can I go further?” He is surprised by himself. Seishiro, Mr. Hassle man suddenly asks for more and more, knowing exactly that he’ll have to do most of the work. You nod, neck turned in an uncomfortable position. Nagi notices and decides to leave little pecks down your throat, trying to make you relax.

Such a gentle gesture as opposed to his deft fingers lifting the end of your nightgown, exposing the soft skin of your leg to his rough handling. Hand groping and slapping your thigh with no finesse and for his own enjoyment.

“Ngh, Nagi-“ You get interrupted by another slap to your leg, making your ass grind into his lap, a gesture that generates a choked moan in Seishiro’s throat.  “I told you to call me Seishiro-“ He spits out, leaving a small bite on your shoulder, not too hard to bruise, but still leaving a sign.

Nagi’s lips find yours again, his tongue prodding at your entrance, asking, wanting, to lap into your mouth, to drink your moans, and to taste your spit. You surrender immediately, your tongue weakly fighting against his, lost to the pleasure this entire situation is bringing you. The hand that was massaging your leg is sliding closer to your core, bunching your nightgown to your waist. A deft finger slides into your panties, playing first with one curl of your hairs, before pulling it, making you groan.

“She kept herself untouched for me, maybe she hoped to scare that loser off-“Seishiro thinks, pushing his hips, and therefore his boner against your ass, that idea clouding his brain even more.  “I like them, keep them for me, mh?” He pants in your mouth, your lips still slightly open from the previous kiss. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips and Nagi takes it as consent to his order instead of a response to his forefinger assaulting your clit.

Seishiro has never been a patient guy, and it shows even now when his fingers caress your outer folds before digging a bit deeper, but never enough for your taste, edging you constantly while playing with the bundle of nerves with no grace. He wants to see fat tears roll down your cheeks, he wants to hear you beg for him, he wants to feel desired, and he wants it now.

“Sei-Seishiro!” You half scream, closing your eyes and finally, making tears escape. Nagi keeps himself from smirking, but his heart roars in pleasure at the sight. “Good-“

“You-you are a bully.” You interrupt him, your own phrase is broken by sighs of pleasure. Breath gets caught in his throat, not expecting to hear that from you, dick twitching when hearing your voice in strain.

“So, you don’t like me anymore? You want me to get out?” Seishiro teases you, speeding up the movement of his fingers. Your head moving left and right tells him all he needs to know, together with the hand that keeps pulling at the collar of his hoodie to keep him close. He finally pushes his middle finger inside your wet core “So wet, for me.” He mumbles biting his lower lip, thrusting faster, and soon adding the ring finger, curling them so deliciously that your eyes cross in pleasure. You are a mess, but Seishiro is no better, grinding his clothed boner into your ass desperately searching for relief, while his tail keeps trashing on his side of the bed, trying not to hurt your softer, human skin.

“Ah-ah” You moan, almost into his mouth, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

“Why do you keep your mouth open? C’mon if you need to say something, say it-“ The malice in his voice is clear, teasing you so meanly, but he can’t really stop himself from trying to push your buttons.

“Ngh-bully!” You groan back, your hand sliding to his hard-on groping it through his gym pants, noticing the big wet patch.

And how big he is.

“Ah-“ He moans too, the touch of your smaller hand driving him almost immediately to completion. It soon becomes a competition on whom would crumble first, both your bodies hot and sweaty trying to pull away but at the same time searching desperately for each other touch.

You reach your end first, throwing your head back into his shoulder, and letting out a high-pitched moan that Seishiro is sure to remember till he breathes. He pulls away as soon as possible, laying on his back and immediately pushing down, just the needed amount, his pants and boxers, freeing his erection, which hit his still-covered abdomen.

“Angh-“  He groans half in pain and half in pleasure for being finally able to free his cock, all flushed and angry for being edged for so long.

“Sei-“ You turn around. The mixture of your sweet, wet eyes and soft voice almost makes Nagi cum on the spot. “G-give me a moment. Then I-I can try to ride you.” You say in between heavy breaths, still swimming in the pleasure of the previous orgasm.

But as much as Seishiro would like to accept “N-No, turn around like before.” He orders, but to your ears, it seems more like he is begging you. Nagi notices and damn himself for sounding so pathetic, but the image of you on top of him, wet eyes, pouty mouth, and trembling legs, still wearing that damn sheer nightgown, wouldn’t make him last.

To say the truth just that image is sending him over the edge.

You nod at his request, turning around just like he asked; you must have thrown your panties somewhere since your back is completely exposed to him. Some droplet of your essence stains the apex of your legs, making Seishiro damn himself for not going down on you, having now to settle for his fingers to taste you.

Seishiro doesn’t indulge too much in your taste, even if it matches your smell, intoxicating, therefore he rolls on your side, grabbing your waist to pull you closer, his erection grinding against your back, slick with all the pre that copiously rolled down during your intercourse.

“Is-Is it gonna fit?” You look at him, and Nagi doesn’t have in him to lie to such sweet eyes “Maybe. I’ll go slow. If you were a cow hybrid it would have been easier-“ He brushes away some hair sticking to your forehead to land a sweet long kiss there “But I want you. More than any hybrid, ever. If it hurts I’m gonna stop.” He kisses your cheek, now dry after all those tears, before pushing just the tip inside your core.

Seishiro sees you wince, but you don’t tell him to stop. His left hand that was holding your waist is now entwined with yours, the other massaging your bosom, but not resisting the desire to pinch your pert nipple. Nagi pecks down your neck, to your chest, while sliding his throbbing member inside you, trying to ease your pain.

“Ngh-“ He groans, irises become liquid bliss. You are so warm and welcoming, sucking him in like you were made to fit together. All those hybrid theories could go fuck themselves because the white-haired guy is sure nobody could make him feel so ecstatic. “You are so good- so good for me.” He moans in between kisses, pushing your nightgown up to touch your trembling tummy, mouth now kissing and sucking your covered chest, pulling sweet moans out of your throat, while his tail tries to encircle your lifted leg to keep you impossibly close.

“You-You feel so nice Sei-“ You breathe out, scratching the little hair on his nape pulling a guttural groan from his mouth. He looks back at you, and you twitch feeling his hot mouth leaving your bosom, missing it already “Can I fuck you?” You tighten around his length and nod, biting your lower lip eyes looking at him so deeply he thinks he may drown in them.

He starts slowly, never really pushing out, not wanting to be separated long from your warmth. But things start to go downhill when your sweet, almost mellifluous moans meet his ears, calling his name so deliciously that he soon gives up on rationality like a sailor enchanted by a mermaid’s voice. His thrusts are deep and fast, making you both mewl out each other names.

“I’m-close-“ You slur out, one hand gripping one of the small horns on Nagi’s head to find purchase to reality in this frenzy. Seishiro just nods at your words, having noticed way before you told him, his length almost slipping out for how wet you are. His deft fingers return to your clit, rubbing furious circles on it to bring you to your apex “Ngh-no, together.” You grumble, trashing a bit and trying to pull away the hand that was bringing you so soon to delirious pleasure.

He looks at you from the nook of your head, not sure you are serious about this. But the look in your eyes, so determined and confident makes him crumble. “Ngh, ah-“ A pathetic mewl escaped his throat making him wince for how cringe he sounded, his thrusts now sloppy and with no finesse, just trying to grind the both of you to the apex. Seishiro kisses your already swollen lips when you reach your peak, too worried about the pitiful sound he’d make, but damning himself for losing the occasion to hear your voice one more time. Your walls spasm around his length trying to suck everything from his cock, desperate to have all of him inside you. He thrusts a bit more into your core, not wanting to leave your warmth so soon, but the overstimulation feels soon overbearing.

You break the kiss, both your breaths are heavy, lashes hanging low like you are waking up from a dream. You cup his cheek, your thumb tracing little hearts making his heart thump harder than before. It seems like you want to say something, you have a cute little smile on your face but Seishiro doesn’t give you the time, his plump lips against yours, tongue already begging for one more dance. The overstimulation subdues to desire, and from the twinkle in your eyes, Seishiro knows you are on the same page.

The night ahead is still long.

[ghostedgrim]

She's all that is about the popular guy being dared to date the "nerdy girl" by his so called friend, he takes the dare but ends up falling for her. She finds out and they have a fight and break up. He wins her back in the end. Take it anyway you want! I do want Eric to be jealous as hell after they break up when other guys start taking an interest in reader!!

She's All That pt.1

Pt2. Request page. Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️: Getting dared to pretend to date someone, implied violence, jealousy,

"Eric, with all so respect, you're a Dauntless leader, yet you've been single since day one." The music in the bar is so loud that for a moment Eric almost didn't hear him.

"Personally James, I don't see how that's relevant. I have enough hookups to satisfy me plenty, I don't need some girl or whatever. Relationships I just a bothersome hassle."

"I bet you don't have a single romantic bone in your body."

"That's what you think, James," the bartender hands Eric a plate of food and leaves her number on the receipt. "Now if I were an unromantic man, that woman wouldn't have given me her number just now."

"Okay whatever, we both know you're good at getting men and women into your bed, but can you handle a full on relationship?"

"Yes, I just prefer not to, I don't need it" Eric shrugs.

James smirks and holds up his wallet. "Prove it then, date y/n then, the ex Erudite girl from your iniation class. You don't have to love her back, just make her love you. Do it and I'll pay for your next tattoo."

"Fine, how long do I have?"

"I'll give you about a month."

"Then we have deal James."

Is drinking by the chasm stupid? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not, not when I've been on a week long trip to Amity to handle Dauntless soldiers who forgot their mission and decided to play with the Amity girls. My job is to train and direct Dauntless soldiers, yet most days I find myself spanking ass because they don't know how to behave.

"God I should've stayed in Erudite." I groan. Obviously it isn't true, the people there were cruel, liars, manipulators, vain, but I must admit I missed all the reading and research I'd done throughout my time there.

"Saying stuff like that would get you killed," I damn near jump out of my skin at the sound of the deep rumbling voice behind me. I turn around to see Eric standing right behind me. He wraps an arm around my waist to stable me, and guide me away from the chasm as I sway. "Long day?"

"More like a long week," my hard scowl meets his cold grey eyes, "What do you want Eric?"

He looks at me with a prideful expression, "I wish to take you out on a date. Don't worry about work tomorrow I'm assigning you a day off."

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. "Me? Hookup with you? Not interested."

Eric falters for a moment, a small tick in his jaw, before returning to that prideful arrogance. "Good, I'm not interested in a hookup. Meet me tomorrow at 8pm by the train, I'd like to get to know you, nerdy and all."

Before I could even argue he walks away, that entitled ass really thinks I'll just go where he tells me because he said it's a date. I wonder if he uses that method with every girl he hooks up with. Either way I'm not going.

"I'm not going." I remind myself for the uptinth time today. I'm laying on my stomach atop a skyscraper, sniper rifle in hand. Every shooting range in Dauntless is underground except for the rifle range. Every target is at least a mile away, and every night they're moved to a new spot, hidden somewhere on the streets below, or hidden in a new room within the buildings around me. Sometimes, the targets are put on conveyors so they move around, and sometimes some are hidden so well you can only see a tiny sliver. To handle a gun that can shoot from miles away takes practice, and extreme smarts. Constantly I must calculate how the wind may effect my bullet, how far before gravity pulls it down, the most effective place to hit a target, arm to disarm, leg to stop them from running, chest or head to kill.

Only 7 people here in Dauntless have been trained and can handle a rifle and I'm one of those seven. It's one of the few jobs I can use to challenge myself. Kinda fascinating how using a gun takes so much math and knowledge in physics. None the less, I still train at least twice a week like the others.

I'm not fucking going! BANG!! My gun jerke violently, the bullet flies through the air landing perfectly onto the head of a far away target.

I look at my watch, "6:15." I'm not fucking going.

I readjust. BANG!!

I wonder what Eric could possibly have in mind for our date. Wait, why the fuck should I even care? I'm not even going.

It would be rude to stand him up though, and maybe he does actually like me, maybe he's finally going to be in a relationship and he actually chose me. I scoff, nah that's fucking stupid, as if Eric would think to pick me our of all the women already obsessed with him. I'm sure he'll live if stand him up.

BANG!! I miss by a whole 5 feet. "Fucker."

BANG!! I miss again...

It's 7:58, I'm standing by the train tracks wearing my nicest black dress, combat boots, and my favorite gun and dagger holstered to my thigh beneath the skirt of my dress. I even did my makeup. Fuck me, why the Hell did I fall for this crap?

I watch the train approach. "Where the Hell is Eric? Is this a prank?" I fail to hear the frantic footsteps from behind me. I barely have time to process anything before there's an arm around my waist and I'm getting dragged into a train car.

"Sorry I'm late, had some last second paperwork to handle. Thank God I made it in time to catch the train. You okay?" Eric is wearing his typical black cargo pants, combat boots, his black shirt is tight fitting and pared with a black jacket, his hair is in it's signature style and everything. Why the Hell am I about to swoon?

"I'm uh, yeah I'm fine." I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I regain my footing. "For a moment I was scared you stood me up."

Eric scoffs, "Stand up a beautiful girl like you? I'd rather punch a brick wall." He sits down on the threshold of the door, letting his legs dangle out of the traincar as we race through the city. "Come sit," he pats his thigh.

If he's dissapointed I didn't sit on his lap he doesn't show it as I sit across from him. Unlike him I keep my legs inside the train car. "So uh..." I click my tounge, "why did you ask me out in a date, and why did you do it without the intent of hooking up? Last time I checked you never had time for a girlfriend."

"You've never been asked out before-"

"Oh so you're asking me out as a joke? Or pity? Because I'm not staying if that's the case." Eric appears to panic for a moment and quickly grips my shoulder as I try to stand.

"I wasn't finished," he states defensively, Eric's eyes stare deep into mine, their color cold as a winter storm, yet my cheeks warm and my heart stutters. I should probably check that with a doctor. "You and I came to Dauntless and went through iniation at the same time, if I recall correctly you ranked 10th place out of 35 initiates. Now you're not only training and directing Dauntless soldiers, but you're also apart of the only seven people here in Dauntless capable of handling a sniper rifle. I think I have every reason to be curious about you, because the fact that nobody has asked you out is baffling, especially considering how stunning and powerful you are."

Never have I expected a man like Eric to say such words. Stunning? Powerful? I know I'm strong, no idea where he gets the idea I have good looks, but honestly, I feel like I'm the hottest girl in Dauntless after hearing those words. Eric's hand rests atop mine, warm, strong, calloused from rigorous training, his eyes seem to trace my face, and suddenly I'm 16 and freshly transferred to Dauntless again. Eric was terrifying, but hot back then, he still is now just more tame.

I soon realize I've been gaping like a damn fish for minutes now and Eric's small chuckle breaks me from my trance. "I take it nobody has told you that before," he brings a hand to my cheek, his expression soft, "let me be the one to change that, to show and tell you just how amazing you are."

I used to imagine how his lips would taste. t

Then I turned 17 and pushed it from my mind because I was convinced Eric would never love me. He would always be too busy chasing tail to even notice me. But now his eyes are on my lips, his tounge even darts out for a moment to lick his bottom lip. He then looks back at my eyes, he leans in the hand on my cheek pulling me closer. "You smell like strawberries." Our lips are almost touching, his warm breath fanning across my jaw, he smells like gunpowder, cedarwood, and whiskey. I can barely hear anything over my pounding heart. I close my eyes, leaning forward to close the distance between us.

"Shit!" I open my eyes as Eric frantically pulls himself away from the door and the traincar is encased in darkness for several seconds until we leave the small tunnel. "Fuck," Eric laughs, "nearly lost my damn leg." I can't help but to laugh with him.

"That would certainly be quite the traumatic first date." We settle down again the wall both looking out the open door across from us. "How about we just keep all our limbs inside the train for now?" Eric sighs, and we both relax taking in the sight and sounds of the dark clouds rolling in and the distance thunder. The train rolls through the miles of green, flat land between the city and Amity. You can still see the bright lights of the Erudite buildings. It's peaceful, and I can't help but just enjoy the moment rather than talk.

"I once lit my hand on fire." Eric says it so casually as if he were talking about the damn weather.

"You what! Please do tell." I smile like a little kid excited for candy. Eric smiles back and dives into the story of how in chemistry he accidentally covered his hand in lighter fluid, then instead of washing it off he thought it faster to just burn it off. Fortunately the fire lit and burnt out too quick to cause any permanent damage.

It's pouring by the time the train reaches the Dauntless sector. Eric jumps off, then I jump right after. I barely have time to finish standing before he's wrapping his jacket around me. "I would hate for you to catch a cold. Now let me walk you home."

I'm starting to think this is a dream.

Asking her out was one thing, I never meant to get attached. We've been dating for almost a month now. Every time I see her my heart stops, and all I can do is admire her like some dumb schoolboy with a crush. Never in my life did I think I could actually fall in love, and never did I think I would stay up all night imagining what it would be like to kiss a girl, let alone replaying the sound of her laughter in my mind over and over. She's strong, smart as Hell, arguably smarter than me, and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous I could drown in her arms. Honestly if she suffocated me I'd probably thank the damn woman.

"I'm fucked, I'm so utterly fucked." I spend maybe another hour in bed with nothing but my boxers on. I'm already running late, but fuck it, it won't kill Max if I'm late for work just once.

I'm quick to change clothes and rushed out of my home to search for y/n. I find her in the training room running a small squad through some drills. Without a single care I kiss her cheek, "Good morning, my dagger. Sorry for interrupting, but I just needed a small taste of you to get through my day." Her cheeks are dusted in red, and fuck she's just so damn cute it stabs my heart, and then her expression snaps back to stone and she shoos me away.

I catch James in the small squad of men, he's smiling and my heart drops as I remember our bet. I take my time walking up to my office. "How the Hell am I going to escape this?"

Today was exhausting, and I received far to many lewd comments about my relationship with Eric than I'd like. But now I can finally go visit Eric at the bar. For a guy known to be heartless and terrifying he's an amazing boyfriend.

Many people, especially Four, had warned me that Eric was likely dating me as a joke, but I highly doubt he'd continue fake dating me for a whole month as a joke. It's definitely not a joke. Yeah he can be mean, really mean, and cruel, especially to initiates, and yes he's heartless to seemingly everyone here in Dauntless but he has exceptions for certain people... I'm important to him, he's not dating me as a joke, sure he's capable of being that cruel but... he isn't doing that... right?

I try to shake the uneasy thoughts from my head, their just stupid fears, that's all. I pull on Eric's jacket and quickly make my way down to the bar.

I've been sitting alone at this table for nearly 20 minutes, and I can feel the eyes on me. My stomach is a storm of unease, and my doubt is ever growing. This isn't the first time Eric has been late to a date. When we first started dating, he had been cocky, full of himself, half the time it sounded like he was trying to talk me into bed. Despite our first date, it had taken me a while to finally, truly open up to him, to trust him, and believe he wouldn't hurt me. Yet here I am, sitting alone at a table a week later.

It's been a fucking hour, and I swear I can hear the whispers, feel the eyes. The waitress looks at me with contempt, as if she's won something and I lost at whatever she was winning it. My unease eventually turns to frustration and soon I'm walking through the dimly lit halls in search of Eric.

"Fuck me man, and here I thought you were incapable of a relationship." James, without a damn doubt that's his voice.

"Well I'm full of surprises." Eric? That's definitely him. Why the Hell is he with James instead of me, and why are they talking about relationships?

I stalk closer to where I'd heard them speaking, James is running his mouth about a girl's ass making it easy for me to find the two men, and watch them while remaining unseen.

"Have you both kissed, better yet fucked?" James asks and it makes my stomach turn sour. Kissing is fine, but asking about my sex life is not. Not that I have one, yet.

Eric huffs, "no we haven't had sex, and unless you count kissing on the cheek, then we haven't kissed yet."

"Ah, so in that case it isn't love." James has a concerningly victorious look.

"Just because we haven't kissed doesn't mean she isn't in love with me. She's never kissed a guy before, let alone have sex." Eric sounds somewhat annoyed.

"Well damn, a virgin, and unkisssed, I think I may need a taste myself. It's been awhile since I've tried a girl like that. Though-"

"James," Eric warns, his voice deep and posture tense. I wish I could see Eric's face, but all I can see is his back.

"Fine, fine, so you claim she's in love with you. Now I can argue that, but I saw the way that girl looked at you when you visited her last week. She looked at you the way a girl looks at a puppy." James shrugs, and then his eyes lock with mine and he smiles. "It seems I've lost our bet Eric. You can be romantic, and you are capable of making any girl, even ugly miss grumpy, genuinely fall for you. I can't wait to watch her face and see her cry when you tell her you're whole relationship has been fake."

"James-"

"Then aging you should definitely keep dating her. Think about it, maybe she'll stop being so closed off and grumpy, better yet, she'll stop being so strict on my squad. Perhaps you can make her give me a few promotions."

"Playing with her emotions to make her date me and fall in love was-"

I don't think, I just run. I don't stop running, not until my legs give out and I find myself sitting in a train car. That asshole! I trusted him, I loved him, and yet that fucker was using me for his own sick gain! My comm link keeps ringing, and in my frustration I stupidly throw it out of the train.

I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe, my chest hurts like Hell, and my vision is so blurry from tears that I can barely see shit. It was fake, it was all fake. Everything he said was fake! I was nothing to him! Absolutely nothing!

I curl up, and I hate myself for doing it, but I pull his jacket tighter around me. "Gods how can I be so fucking stupid... they warned me, so many fucking times and I ignored them like an idiot."

The sun is rising by the time I get off the train. It's freezing cold, snow covers the street and snowflakes fall from the sky. I glance at the cameras as I walk back to the compound. No doubt Four is watching me through them, or is already at my apartment with a whole essay of a lecture awaiting me. I don't even know if I have the energy to keep walking. So I just lean against a brick wall inside an alley.

I don't know how much time has passed, I'm shivering uncontrollably but I just can't seem to move.

"Y/n." His voice is deep, soft, and full of warmth and I find myself crying all over again.

"Four, I... you were right I-" He interrupts me with a tight hug and kisses my forehead.

"Later, let's just get you home and warm." Four bundles me up in a spare jacket and scarf he brought before picking me up and carrying me home. The exhaustion hits me hard and I unwillingly let myself drift asleep.

I'm bundled in thick warm blankets when I wake up, two warm hands hold one of mine. I finally open my eyes. I'm in my bedroom, Four is leaning against the wall near my door, his knuckles scabbed, and splattered with blood. Confused I look to my left to see who the Hell is holding my hand. To my suprise it's Eric. His gaze is locked on our hands, eyes are rimmed in red, bruises decorate his jaw, right eye, and possibly other places, even his nose looks broken.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Eric's head snaps up and he looks at me in such a way that I'm convinced he actually does love me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, what happened- no, what I did was wrong. You didn't deserve any of that." A tear slips down his cheek and I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt of gaining my pity. "Yes, James and I made a bet with him betting I couldn't make you fall in love with me. It was wrong, and it was cruel for me to manipulate you like that-"

"Get out." I snap.

"Hear him out, trust me," Four interrupts. "We both know Eric isn't the guy to let himself get beat up, especially without throwing at least one punch back." It dons on me that Four beat the shit out of Eric, but that's not what suprises me, it's the fact that Four is utterly unscathed. Eric actually let Four beat him up after what he did to me.

"I- at first it was fun, but then I started to develop feelings and holy shit I fell. I fell hard and fast and I didn't know what to do." Eric's voice breaks and he looks away from me. "You were like a goddam dagger, burrowed deep into my heart and seared into my brain. I thought, maybe to could just let myself win the bet instead of calling it off, you'd never have to know and we'd get to keep dating. You don't have to forgive me, but please know ever I've told you, it was the truth and I do love you. I love you so much it hurts."

"A part of me wants to believe you, Eric. However, the other part of me knows you're nothing more than a lying manipulative snake. I don't want to ever see you again, don't talk to me, don't even look at me."

Defeated Eric finally rids himself from my room.

"What happened to James?" I ask Four.

Four smiles, "Eric broke his jaw."

I sigh, deep in thought, "Did Eric actually let you hit him."

"Pretty much. I found him outside frantically looking for you, I punched first before asking questions. I had already seen all I needed to through the cameras. He didn't fight back once, just stood there and took my beating. I yelled st him for quite a bit before dragging his ass here then returning to the security cameras and waiting for you to step off the train."

"Four?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. And if I ever act that stupid again, slap the shit out of me."

[kataraslove]

Hello,

I just wanted to say I am open to any arguments against Zutara...if you can do it without insulting me. Someone who puts out ad-hominem attacks against me...I can't take them seriously because to me, if a person needs to insult you, its a distraction technique to discredit. I never called anyone a loser - a toddler until I was insulted first. If you cannot do that, well I've blocked you anyway but if you send anyone else from your little posse (you all have similar language and writing so I'm thinking it may just be one person with multiple accounts), do let them know. If they insult me as a person, they will be blocked. If they're respectful and just attacking my argument, I can respect that.

Not sure what the point of sending me an entire ask only to have blocked me will do, but sure, I’ll entertain it.

The core of my response always critiqued your argument. I only referred to you as a weirdo - the choice of insult that you used YOURSELF in your original response - for not only stating that women who ship Kataang would want to be raped themselves, but willingly WANTING them to be raped. That’s where I draw the line.

I’ve provided more respect for you than you’ve given any of us, to be frank. I went out of my way to say that you’re entitled to consume and engage in any fanon you want; you’re entitled to exploring the realms outside of canon in transformative works. On the other hand, you’ve made it very clear that you think people who ‘glorify’ ships that you have a personal moral problem with deserve to be sexually assaulted. So excuse me for calling you a weirdo; I think I was actually being way too kind in my response!

I’m not sending anons to chase you down. This is just a guess on my end, but hmmm… usually people don’t really take it too well when someone on the internet says that they should be raped for what they like in a fictional story. So the multiple people attacking you probably came after reading your own filth, believe it or not, which - might I remind - you put in the TAG. I didn’t have to do a single thing, nor did I care enough to. If people are still sending you comments and asks, then that’s their right. This is tumblr and I have no control over that.

Lastly, people have tried to approach your arguments in good-faith, as disrespectful as you’ve been, and you’ve still blocked them. You’re not interested in being open about anti Zutara arguments. If you were, you’d unblock us and offer an actual response.

[epickiya722]

"How is Horikoshi going to wrap up everything on five chapters?"

I don't know, you don't know. We just know Horikoshi and his team have a plan and they know how MHA is going to be wrapped up in five chapters.

They got it, they'll handle this. At the end of the day, this is Kohei Horikoshi's story.

Regardless, I feel like this is the case with some of you.

You're afraid of being disappointed. You're afraid of being disappointed because you have these expectations set so high. With that kind of standard, you're never going to be satisfied with anything.

So stuck on "this must satisfy me and only me" that you forget that that story not written by you is a story that is just being shared with you. Not given to you because you're special and you're not.

On top of that, some of you just crave for more, more, more. And more. And more. Even more.

You want nonstop content being pushed out while being impatient about it (looking at you, 'how dare we not get a new chapter this week' folks).

Just because one manga had been going on for longer than another, maybe even came out before that one, doesn't mean every manga is meant to last for a long time. Manga, anime, TV show, comic book, novel series, etc.

Fun fact, Horikoshi's previous works didn't last for ten years. His last one, Oumagadoki Zoo, lasted little less than a year. From July 2010 to April 2011.

Three years it ended before My Hero Academia came into the picture. And I'll be honest, I doubt Horikoshi even planned for MHA to last this long because he didn't have the experience before.

Once it got to a certain point, I doubt he even wants for MHA to go even longer.

Hell, that's something I know all too well as someone who writes. And from what I remember, stories have a beginning, a middle and an end.

Stories aren't meant to keep going on forever. They're meant to be read, to be told, to be understood, to be enjoyed.

Not be graded like some college report and not ongoing like the people who create those stories are damn machines.

Something that it's very clear to me that some of you forgotten that. Or even care, let's be real.

Some of you want perfection so bad and yet can't even write your own damn story.

Who even wants a perfect story anyways? I don't know about the rest of you, but a story with flaws is a story that could be learned from. Stories can guide you, too, in more ways than one.

Horikoshi's writing to me, at least, isn't perfect. It's entertaining. I got into MHA because I was entertained by the concept. I got interested into it because of a meme I saw. You think I wouldn't want to seek it out and see if it will entertain me?

Yes, there are some points of the story where I wanted to pull my hair out and I don't doubt that a future part may make that feeling return.

But at the same time, what if... that's the point? Maybe you were meant to feel that emotion? Maybe that's what the writer was going for?

Are you understanding me?

Maybe, example, with the end we got for Tomura was meant to upset you? Sadden you, anger you even? Stories work like that sometimes!

But I doubt the writer should be condemned for it because at the end of the day, it is just a piece of fiction. My Hero Academia is the same story where a woman can grow to the size of a building and a kid has a speech bubble for a head.

Now does that sound like a story that you should be acting like a complete fool over? Wishing harm towards and arguing with others over? Huh? Does it?

Honestly, after MHA ends, if you choose to move onto the next manga, anime, whatever how about stop expecting so much?

How about stop having this entitlement that the story must go your way and your way only?

How about remembering that eventually that story will end?

[kilarthmac]

Let's talk about Caelum.

I'm gonna preface this with saying that everyone is entitled to their opinions, and if once you're done reading this you decide you don't want to follow me or you want to block me, that's completely up to you. I'm not trying to change your opinion or attack anyone who has a different one than mine, I just wanted to put my two cents out there.

I also wanted to say that whatever your opinion on the matter is, it's yours and yours alone, and you should respect the opinions of other people even if they don't match up. I personally do not sexualize Caelum, but I do think he is an adult with childlike characteristics, and those two statements are not mutually exclusive. He can be an adult, but he also doesnt have to be put in adult situations.

It's okay to have strong feelings one way or the other about this topic, but it is not okay to harass people or go on a witch hunt for those with the opposite opinion to give them shit about what they think. If you disagree with someone and do not want to see their stuff on your timeline, just block them or scroll away. You alone are responsible for your own dash, you cannot make other people responsible for what you see on your timeline.

All that being said, I do not like how the fandom treats Caelum and Empathy Daemons in general.

My stance on the matter is that Empathy Daemons as a whole are adults, but because of how E'Laetum created them, they tend to have childlike characteristics. Those who say that Empathy Daemons are ALL children blatantly ignore the fact that Regulus is an Empathy Daemon as well, and that he has been shown to have adult tendancies (his BA, getting possessive over his charge, etc) while also maintaining his childlike characteristics (telling his charge a bedtime story to sleep, having a very one dimensional view of himself and his charge, etc). This is where I have a problem whenever I see people try to say that all Empathy Daemons are children. Regulus is clearly an adult. There is no "reading between the lines" about this.

Caelum is also an Empathy Daemon, but he is a very different character than Regulus. He is a lot more childlike compared to Regulus. He gets his words mixed up, he likes sweets, he likes hugs, etc. But in his most recent video (Your Bakadere Empathy Daemon Friend Visits You), even he says that he almost went down a path similar to Regulus' until Delphinus stepped in and assigned him to Freelancer, and that stopped him from falling (timestamps from 2:40 - 3:18, and 8:45 in that video). It may be uncomfortable for some people to think of Caelum as going down the same path that Regulus did, but this video clearly shows that he had the potential to. Caelum and Regulus are not as different as one may think.

Erik has also said himself that D(a)emons step out of the Elision Well as adults and they do not age. Of course they don't know everything so they still have to learn, but that's not the same as being a child. On top of the most recent Redacted 101 video, take this screenshot from Wonderworld (previously Redacted Records, when Erik was still in the server) from 2020, where Erik talks about how D(a)emons coalesce.

He even mentions how in earlier Caelum videos he didn't know what he wanted the d(a)emon life cycle to be yet, and that's why he had Caelum state that he was a "kid daemon" at one point.

Not to mention the fact that in the official timeline, it shows that Caelum coalesced in 1999, and is even older than Damien.

At the end of the day, Caelum is a fictional character. Whatever someone ends up deciding to make of him is their choice, this is a fandom after all. If it really bothers you to see what certain people make, block them and move on. DO NOT berate them for their headcanons or fanart or whatever else. People are allowed to have their own headcanons, make their own fics, and draw their own fanart. This is a fandom space, and people are allowed their creative liberties.

Anyways, that has been my two cents. Feel free to voice your opinions in the comments if u want to, but please please be respectful and don't attack anyone.

TLDR; I don't sexualize Caelum but I do think he and all Empathy Daemons are adults (ex: Regulus), everyone should respect everyone else's opinions and just block what they don't want to see on their timelines, and the fandom needs to chill out lol

[darcytaylor]

Nah, I'm with that other anon, this is the final straw for me, too. I look at actions, not words. You don't think Deuxmoi is on the phone with Backgrid already? A knows what she's inviting into their lives. Didn't they get papped in Italy once already? Maybe that's what she's hoping for.

The thing is, he clearly cares that people don't think ill of him. He wouldn't have retreated from SM the way that he did otherwise. He wouldn't have posted that "we won't let her ruin our night" story. He wouldn't have made the post about the scammers. I struggle to believe he can't reinforce a boundary about a behavior that keeps causing him distress and making him have to put out fires. He's got bigger fish to fry, he's juggling two projects. He may not be an ambitious person but I don't think he's actively self-destructive when it comes to his career. Are these little posts of hers worth all the shit he's getting for them? Complicit by inaction is a perfect way to put it, except now this has me wondering if he's actually complicit, as in, an active participant. I'd be very disappointed in him if he was.

I understand why this might be the final straw for you and others. I’m not here to convince anyone to support or be a fan of someone - everybody is entitled to their own opinions, and I’m not trying to change that.

It’s also not my intention to sway people toward liking a celebrity I don’t know personally, hahaha! I’m just offering a perspective based on the limited information we all have. At the end of the day, we don’t know these people, and we don’t actually know their motivation. But I understand if people need to step away and reevaluate.

I think it’s natural to question what’s really going on, especially when things don’t seem to align with someone’s previous actions or how they’ve presented themselves publicly. We’re all seeing just bits and pieces of what’s happening behind the scenes, and it’s easy to misinterpret things without the full picture.

That being said, just because Luke hasn’t called out certain behaviours or taken action, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s complicit or okay with it. Sometimes, it’s more complicated than just setting boundaries or reacting the way we expect. People handle these things differently, especially when their personal lives are under constant scrutiny. Maybe he’s trying to balance his personal life and career, and things aren’t as clear-cut as they might seem? I don't know.

I understand why it’s disappointing if his actions feel inconsistent. I just think (for me anyway) it’s hard to judge someone’s entire situation based on the small bits of information we do have. Because at the end of the day I literally know nothing.

I also have gone into more depth about this in another ask - where the person brought up some interesting points - not sure if you have read it, but I will link it.

[galvanizedfriend]

hi! so i’ve read pretty much all of your works and loved them so much. your writing is amazing and some of the best fan fiction i’ve read.

the only ones i haven read from you are the wolf series but i keep hearing so many good things about it.

i know it’s a TO rewrite with caroline instead of hayley (and i could look past the baby plot if it means klaroline) but i’ve tried watching the show a few times and hated hayley’s personality and some other nuances to the show and o was wondering if The Wolf is Caroline in place of Hayley but her personality and the way she acts in situations is how Hayley does in the show, or if it’s very much so Caroline if she were put in the position Hayley is in? if that makes sense

First of all, thank you very much, nonnie! ❤️ Glad you enjoy my little fics 🥰 Your question makes perfect sense, yes.

The short answer is: no, Caroline is not just Hayley in a wig 😂 If you're asking me, I'm obviously going to say it's completely different! I'm biased, but I also know how much work I put into it, so I know all the ways TW deviates from the show. I think Caroline is very IC in this, if I may say so myself, so obviously not Hayley, and every time I've gone back to re-read parts of this fic I have had a great time 😂 So personally, I think this is a very entertaining story, but again, it's my story lol Other people might be able to give you less biased opinions.

If you hate hate The Originals, there is still a chance you won't like this anyway, but I do think it's very different, and I have a longer answer if you're interested.

Under the cut because I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Be careful what you guys ask me, you might get a freaking bible as a reply.

I have become deffensive of this fic over the years because I have received some very nasty comments in the past (not saying your question is offensive in any way, nonnie, this is a very valid question!). I can respect people not liking it, I can respect this isn't everybody's cup of tea, and that's totally fine. What I can't stand is when people tell me I haven't done anything to the show, or that Klaus and Caroline are exactly the same as Klaus and Hayley. I did not spend the amount of time I have spent overthinking and overwriting this shit into something that makes much more sense and is way more fleshed out than the show ever was to hear from people that I've done nothing. I can't even list all the ways TW deviates from the show, or Caroline from Hayley, because I'd be here for the rest of the day.

As the person writing the story, I know exactly how much thought I have put into it, how many original scenes and dialogues and shit I write each chapter, and how much of what I've taken from the show I have cracked my brain to twist and change in a way that fits. I have spent more time of my life overthinking the crappy writing on this show in order to add context and find correlations and make connections and rationalize characters' behaviors and add depth to their actions and their thoughts, and let me tell you, nonnie, it was not easy. It's unbelievable how weak the writing for TO is, the actors do a lot of the work all by themselves. My friends who were with me during this time know how fucking annoying I was lol

This was me sending messages to @definedareasofuncertainty in the middle of the night to explain an idea:

I realize I can't expect readers to feel the same way, everyone is entitled to their opinions and I can only be responsible for what I write, not for how people are going to understand it, but I can't help the way I feel because, to me, it's insane when someone reads this and thinks it's the same. The entire premise of The Wolf is different. It's never about the baby, the baby is almost background noise. The Originals starts and ends around Hope, but The Wolf is not about baby Eve (that's the baby's name), it's about Caroline. Everything is about Caroline, and about Klaus' feelings for her.

A lot of what I think is wrong with TO is that it just doesn't make sense. The things they do, the choices they make, the way they relate to each other just doesn't work, and what I tried to do was rewrite it in a way that it did make sense, not only moving the story forward, but also, and especially, the characters, their motivations and their relationships. I feel like TO was always going to be a better show if they'd focused more on characters than on plot, because that's what I was there for from the start, the family and their bonds, not undercover werewolf packs or baby-stealing aunts. But the writers sacrificed the characters so much for the sake of some arguably very silly plots (don't even get me started here…). While I do keep the plot points, what I tried to do (and hopefully succeeded, at least to a certain degree) was to bring the characters to the front and push the action and enemies and wars and such to the background. So instead of having the characters reacting to the plot, I have the plot serving the characters, if that makes sense. I kept the parts that interested me and that I felt I could use to serve my purposes and threw out everything I could dispense with.

And what I was aiming for first and foremost was to get Caroline the center stage I always felt she deserved, and the love story she could've had with Klaus. So the whole thing is really about that. S1 is the two of them sorting through their differences and understanding their feelings for each other, S2 is the two of them negotiating an actual relationship, S3 is them being married. That's it. I had the best time writing about the two of them through the eyes of the other characters, to have Elijah and Rebekah and Kol and Marcel witnessing and monologuing about Klaroline, all these different points of view on them. And my actual favorite part of the entire story is the part that isn't The Originals at the end of TW2.

So anyway, my point with my TO rewriting was never to fix everything that is wrong with the show. I wasn't writing the version of TO I wish it had been, my ideal spin off. I could've done that, but I didn't, because it's not what the project was ever about when I started. I wanted to keep the show as close to what it is as possible, whilst trying to prove a point (to myself, but also, hopefully, to some other people) that there was a way that this show could've still kept me invested. I'm an easy girl, just give me faves on their journey towards endgame and I'm satisfied, you know.

If you made it to the end of this, congratulations, nonnie 😂 You wanted a yes or no answer and you got a STATEMENT. I'm very sorry for my dumbass response, I've just become *protective* of this fic. If you do read it, I hope you'll find it enjoyable. If not, that's ok too! There are many amazing fics out there for you to be wasting your time on something that won't spark joy for you ❤️ And thanks again for reading my other fics, that's very lovely of you!

[drops-of-moonlights]

I know this may be a spoiler but I'll ask you anyway. Why did Endymion fall in love with Serenity? Reading your blogs about the Moon princess, I can't understand how the Earth prince came to fall in love with such a red lunar flag. She's not nice to her guardians, when she briefly wakes up and cold-bloodedly murders her boyfriend's ex-guardian. By all accounts, it seems, Serenity is cold, cruel and entitled. If I were a friend/relative of the prince or even a nobody from Earth, and a mysterious red-haired witch told me that our beloved prince only wants to marry the selenite because of a magic spell, I would believe her without any spell.

Basically? Serenity was New, and Mysterious, and Intriguing, and Endymion was all about that. Serenity herself, spoiled as she was, WAS relatively less Like That before her death - still detached and seemingly cold, but she was more indifferent than outright cruel. She herself fell for Endymion because, to her, Endymion was not only New, and Mysterious, and Intriguing, but he was also the first person that ever cared for *her*, and not her status as Princess. Serenity felt like Endymion was the only person that ever got her, and Endymion felt like Serenity was the only person that wanted to listen to him. They were cute, in their own way! But they were both selfish too, caring more about their love than their people.

Even with Beryl's hesitation (and Serenity's Senshi also disapproving out of fear of what their Queen might do), all the Earth saw was their Prince, their ruler to be, ready to sell them all to the cruelty of the Moon. Metalia really didn't have to do all that much to manipulate Beryl nor the Earth, the war was going to happen even without her influence.

And then they both die, and dying actively makes them worse - both Serenity and Endymion died thinking the universe itself had plotted to make them unhappy, and so once they awaken in the present in the bodies of Usagi and Mamoru, they both try to get revenge at *everyone*, because in their eyes, it was THEIR fault that their miracle romance was a tragedy. It's also why they both try to hijack their reincarnation's bodies (Endymion succeeds, but Metalia's not stupid, so she brainwashes him, while Serenity only succeeds sometimes turning Usagi into Princess Sailor Moon), and why, before they can even GET to Metalia, they have to find a way to take down Serenity.

Because she only cares about Endymion, and will destroy anything and everything in her path to him. And she knows Endymion would do the same.

SO TL;DR - both Serenity and Endymion kinda sucked as people and found love because they were the only ones that actually didn't mind their bullshit lol.

This affects Usagi and Mamoru too, while they do still end up together it takes them most of the Dark Kingdom and Doom Tree arc to build their OWN love, separate from Serenity and Endymion's. This is also why Crystal Tokyo doesn't happen in my AU - the LAST thing Usagi and Mamoru want to do is emulate their past lives lol.

[toastedcatbread]

I'm sorry, but I don't really find "At the Altar" to be very sexy or cute at all. I've been thinking for weeks how to phrase that doesn't sound like outright bashing, so I'll do my best. First of all, Cloud becoming blessed without even realizing it (lacking CONSENT), can't remember if he was even a child, and then Sephiroth coming around to collect his 'due' in sexual favors is just coersive and cringy. And later, Sephiroth outright killing everyone in his village because reasons??? and Cloud's all like, "Oh ALL RiGHT but don't you do it again~" is just?? mindboggling? Cloud would do anything for his people, for the ones he cares about, and sparing just a few isn't doing Cloud any favors. He'd want to save everyone he could, even if they weren't his biggest fans. There's a huge imbalance of power here that doesn't jive with 'loving, consenting relationships'. Cloud is subjected to painful, unrealistic sex because he has no CHOICE; and therefore, Sephiroth can't just fuck the living bejesus out of Cloud and woops, that's how love happens. It's unbelievable, it's really kind of rapey, and it really isn't for me. For a reader, I approached this story "Porn Without Plot", and that's fine, but there is some semblance of plot here, though it's so poorly presented that it's painful to read and it rarely deviates from, 'Sephiroth does something bad, but it all goes away because Cloud just loves getting dicked until he can't see straight' and because he's such a subserviant individual - which, canonically, he isn't. He wants to live for himself, in the end, find his own identity. I really hope you consider wrapping up the story soon, because even as I can't stand it, I'm hoping that somehow, really hope, that Cloud realizes how much he's been manipulated and gets away from Seph, because this is not the basis of a healthy relationship, at all, and it frightens and upsets me to my very core.

Sefikura, as a whole, has never been healthy or cute or wholesome. In canon, it's presented as a manipulative, dark, gritty, and horrendously co-dependent in a way no one can call healthy.

Listen, anon, you're entitled to your opinion on At the Altar just as anyone else is. I didn't write the story to explore any deep plot or dynamic. It's not meant to be fun or cute. It's really just a fantasy theme that I'm writing to practice writing sex, which I personally find difficult.

However, you're bleeding "real world" into fantasy at this point. No one today would disagree that, should something like this happen in real life, it would be horrific. Of COURSE, Cloud isn't subservient in canon, especially not to Sephiroth. Of COURSE he's trying to find his own identity in canon. They don't have gods or blessings or offerings in the actual FF7 storyline. In this world where humans identify themselves as "followers", things are different. Cloud is different. It's an AU and, at some point, it will deviate from "normal" Cloud's actions.

Stop comparing fanfiction with canon or real life. AUs exist as a genre and people write them to explore outside the box of canon. You don't have to like it, nor do you have to read it. I understand that you may like some of my other works, or maybe you don't, but I'm not really writing for clout or popularity in the fandom. If it's not to your taste, I'm sure there's plenty of other works out there that can scratch that itch for you.

If I'm perfectly honest, there's thousands, maybe millions of people reading on AO3. How in the world is anyone supposed to write something that satisfies every single reader anyway? It's impossible. So I don't aim for that. It write for various reasons and At the Altar just happens to be me practicing porn. It's not meant to be realistic or true to canon.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

I give many rounds of applause for your take on Agatha! This may be an unpopular opinion, but when I was seeing a lot of posts saying Agatha was submissive to Rio, I just…it didn’t sit right. Dynamics in relationships can always change, of course, but..it just didn’t feel right with me. Agatha is so strong, so powerful, and there are so many layers to her. Of course she can have any relationships she wants, but she’s so much more than that.

ANYWAY. - steps off soapbox -

Also, please enjoy this (because I sure did!):

https://youtu.be/m1hhAQYBXTU

- 🌸

Oh my goshhh thank you <3 I'll admit, after what I was seeing on twitter and by certain people on here I was kind of terrified to post that. I think everyone is entitled to their opinions, but certain people in this fandom are just so full of hate and seem to want to make others as miserable as they feel and it's sad to me :/

With that being said, I agree!! I think there are a few reasons why people feel that way about Agatha/Rio, but I personally just don't reallyyyy agree with them. I think with Agatha, the most important thing to her is her power; her magic. That's something she has always been able rely on, which is most likely why being without it is so terrifying to her. That scene with Billy at the end of episode 6 really demonstrated that to me. The way she talked to Billy was the most tender I have actually ever seen her interact with another person so far (Señor Scratchy excluded), and I think a part of that has to do with her seeing part of herself in Billy. Healing generational trauma, anyone?

Now, Agatha like you said is soooo layered, and I haven't given too much thought on what her relationship with Rio was like, but based off what I've read in interviews before and during the show, it feels like they enjoy pushing the boundaries of what the other can handle. The games, the fighting, all of that. Not exactly the healthiest but I mean...Agatha doesn't exactly scream "cottage core sapphic romance" to me, hahaha. Was she able to let her guard down with Rio? Absolutely, and I think that's why the original betrayal hurt her as much as it did. Sorry this was a bit of a ramble, but alas yes I do agree with you!

ALSO ahhhhh!!! Kathryn Hahn singing Shallow. What a gold mine of a video, I'm actually friends with the person who recorded that, and she is an angel ahhh. This made my afternoon thank you so much for sharing, I hope you're well!! <3

[ezrazone]

making this non-rebloggable and may delete it, but i do want to talk about my first experience as a literary critic because i think it matters despite my wanting nothing to do with the subject of the piece for as long as i live. this is not a callout or a call to action. please be advised to leave this guy alone. i can forgive them now that their behavior towards me has stopped.

this past winter, ahead of my first article as a comics critic, i very naively hoped to have a conversation with another cartoonist about the philosophical ideas their latest book is wrestling with. i ended up having a tense but respectful discussion with the author, which they then chose to lie about to both their twitter audience for sympathy and then in outrage via emails to my editor at the online journal in hopes of having me blacklisted or getting the review censored or scrubbed. it went nowhere (except a small handful of petty comments on the article itself, parroting the version of events that the author invented for twitter) and an internal investigation at the journal, which yielded the obvious (that the claims were completely fabricated, as evidenced by our written correspondences on either side of an uncomfortable phone-call and the actual review which is critical but not malicious or personal).

i think it’s very easy to get wrapped up in the indignity of the experience and the horror-magnet of this individual personality. i think i got off pretty easy; this is not someone with a great deal of power or influence (i am far from the first person to trigger their tar-pit behavior on twitter), it never followed me to other social media, and i got to keep my article up because it was fair and professional. i still have my job as a freelancer with the journal.

but i think something matters from my experience, beyond the interpersonal confusion - i cannot possibly understand why they behaved the way they did and will lose my mind if i try. but what i do have is new insight into the way that people are prone to covet acceptance via professional work, how the myth of creating something genius in isolation promises to resolve all of your personal and spiritual issues - and how “bad reception” (or merely insightful reception, or reception you personally disagree with as a creative worker) appears to threaten your safety and your sanity.

being begged by someone who has published multiple substantial graphic novels - achievements i am nowhere close to undertaking myself at this point in my creative development - not to “cancel them” by writing a completely warranted review of their hugely ambitious comics project was like having a bucket of ice water dumped on my own delusions of grandeur. this awful social interaction has begun a chain reaction of ego deaths in me that only seem to accelerate as i wrangle pieces of my health from the jaws of my long covid crash last year.

i cannot possibly care about being Da King of Comics anymore. it’s just fucking comics.

anyways you can read my review on SOLRAD. and you are obviously advised to leave the artist alone. i think it’s very cool, actually, that i was able to walk away from an encounter like that knowing that 1) i treated this person during our actual encounters with respect, compassion, curiosity and consideration and 2) that i would write a fair review no matter how much they thrashed and cursed me and begged me to become a part of their annihilation fantasies. i have never felt more clear on who i am or what my work is capable of.

i hope by sharing about my experience that i do not re-provoke this person, since writing the review at all sent them into a blackout rage of self-pity and entitlement for several weeks. i have never described them publicly as they actually treated me, but i don’t think i’ve become a better person by sitting on it. maybe this can be part of me letting them go.

i still find the book interesting. i could have written an article that was 5x the length of the one on SOLRAD and not even scratched the surface of how meaningful the book is to me. isn’t that kind of sad, that these characters could have lived on through me or through anybody? i could have made comics about it, new drawings and illustrations to heighten the things that worked while acknowledging the things that cannot work.

we are so culturally petrified of subjective audience experiences and transformative work. we are so wedded to our own egos, to being regarded as individually pure and infallible. it’s a huge disservice to the work we actually make, which is so much bigger than this individual’s emotional response to embarrassing themselves in front of a colleague.

they admitted to me over the phone that they had not read any single philosopher name-checked in their book. they had only listened to breadtube playlists. i had not pressed very hard; just listened, just observed them openly. the next four months would be colored by their own horror at this admission of their own incuriosity and what they feared i might do with it. they’d call me an “adult bully” in their twitter takedown, hreatening to “kick their corpse” by calling them “a bigot” and by “refusing to explain why”. i had only accepted them as they were and promised to treat their work with respect and dignity.

i declined, over the phone, to give this person experiencing severe emotional distress a new reading list. they reacted as if, because they perceived me as “knowing better”, i was doing violence to them by not immediately teaching them all that i know. instead, i outright rejected the framing that there was something wrong with their book because they had not “read enough” and instead tended to their emotional well-being, reassuring them that i cared for their future as an artist and took the review seriously. they were able to calm down as we spoke and they thanked me for being a safe person. they seem to have changed their mind later, after the story underwent several escalating permutations.

we’re all doing enough. we can do more, when we accept that our work is already in other people’s hands. my plea to the proto anne rices of the world. rice said she obliterated all of that fan work and fan discussion from the internet with her massive legal financial and social power because she was worried that reading something about her work might cause her writer’s block.

you can make something exceptionally wonderful and it will matter very little if you cannot share it. allow it to be witnessed. allow somebody to disagree with it. make work with the expectation that most people will not understand it. world peace my final message etc

[shy-urban-hobbit]

49. Who hurt you? From the angst prompt list if you want to :3c

"Who hurt you?" - Lambden (of course 😁).

Lambert learns that some winters aren't as relaxing as others.

“Who hurt you?”

It was the first year they’d actually made plans to meet in the spring rather than just leaving it to chance when they’d run into each other and Lambert knew he’d failed to hide his surprise. Whilst he and his brothers always left the Keep looking and feeling well fed and well rested, Aiden looked very much the opposite. He should have only left the caravan behind three days ago and yet he looked the same as he had when they’d parted ways. Worse, even. Lambert would have just chalked it up to a bad winter until he noticed the bruises.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Those aren’t nothing Aiden, those are fucking finger marks! So I’ll ask again. Who hurt you?”

Aiden laughed. Actually laughed, “You’re sweet but it’s genuinely nothing. You know how it gets towards the end of winter.”

“No, I don’t.” Lambert had the sinking feeling they were reading from totally different books, nevermind from different pages.

“You know.” Aiden said as if he was trying to prompt a child, “Tensions are high, supplies are low...”

“So these are from your siblings?” Gods. How hard had they grabbed him if the marks were still there after at least three days?

Aiden blinked, his scent turning slightly impatient, “I’m starting to feel like whatever I say is going to be the wrong answer but, yes?” He rubbed at the bruises, suddenly self conscious under Lambert’s scrutiny, “Why are you so worked up about this anyway? It’s not like I haven’t had worse. I bet your brothers have left you with a few decent ones before now too.”

“Not outside of training and nothing like this.” He paused as he thought on what Aiden had said about supplies, letting his eyes move over his body and ignoring Aiden's suggestive smirk as he did, “Aiden, did you get these fighting over food?”

Aiden’s scent shifted to something close to shame, “Guxart rations it out but there’s always the dickheads who think they’re entitled to more than their share. You do what you have to.”

Lambert felt a wave of indignation and sympathy come over him. The winter months were supposed to be a break from fighting for survival. He was resting and enjoying all the perks Kaer Morhen had offer (however few they may be) and every year Aiden was probably worse of then he was on The Path.

“Don’t.” Aiden spat out, eyes turning flinty, “Don’t you dare fucking pity me. I know it’s fucked up, but it is what it is.”

“It shouldn’t be though!” Lambert spat, “You should be going back to somewhere that’s safe and instead, what, Guxart’s letting you beat the shit out of each other fighting over scraps?"

“It’s not his fault!” Aiden yelled, jabbing a finger in Lambert’s chest breathing hard through his nose, “You try looking out for upwards of twenty people when you’re constantly on the move. Good luck knowing exactly how many, it fluctuates every year, throughout the year. Barely staying in one place long enough to do any decent hunting, nowhere to properly store fresh shit where it won’t start turning after a couple of days. I know it’s not a patch on your Keep with your-your green houses and cellars and whatever the fuck else you have up there, but Dyn Marv is my home. And you don’t have the right to look down on it.”

He stormed past Lambert, muttering angrily under his breath and leaving the Wolf stood stunned in the middle of the road.

“Aiden.” He jogged after the other, who seemed determined to put as much distance between them as he could without breaking into a run, “Aiden, hold on a fucking second.”

“What?”

“You were right, I get it. As much as I hate Kaer Morhen...it might be a shit hole, but it’s my shit hole. I just-“

Aiden stopped, turning to look at him, “Just?”

“I worry about you.” Lambert muttered to his boots so quietly Aiden would have missed it if it weren’t for his Witcher hearing.

“Fucking softie.” Aiden teased lightly, leaning slightly and resting his forehead against Lambert’s shoulder, “I survived an entire childhood there, I can survive a few months out of the year. You really don’t need to worry.”

“I know I don’t. If you ever want a proper break though; Cat or no, Vesemir is too noble to toss someone out into the snow and to certain death. Plus, I just might behave myself if I have a friend to play with.”

The last part had the desired affect and Aiden smothered his laughter in Lambert’s armour, “I’ll definitely think about it.”

[shuinami]

heyy, i love your blog. ITS SOOO FRICKINN CUTEE🩷🩷

also i read your analysis on hobie and jess, and i loved it. but can you tell me.. why do people still hate jess? like can you explain it, because my sister won’t stop going off on her😭

Thank you, darling 🤎🤎🤎

I think that a lot of people dislike Jess because they sympathise/empathise with Gwen a lot. It makes sense that there are more people who feel a stronger connection to Gwen given she was in the first movie and is one of the main characters, as well as her being younger. For me, however, though I understand a lot of Gwen’s behaviours come from a place of fear and trauma, I feel more frustrated by her actions given the implications they cause for other characters such as Jess, Miles and her bandmates.

So, I can understand why people dislike Jess, she didn’t act as protective as a mother figure would or treat her like a child, which is what those people expect. It’s fair enough but I disagree that Jess had that responsibility to do so or that she failed Gwen or was being bad to her for drawing a line in the end.

People also thought that Gwen’s ineffective/distracted method of catching the spotless Spot was inevitable due to her age, which as someone quite young myself, I don’t think is true and, thus, I don’t think it’s a good critique of Jess, since not everyone acts the same way and Jess couldn’t have known how Gwen would deal with 1610. Others who relate more to Gwen may not see it that way, though 🤷🏽‍♀️

One critique of Jess that I haven’t heard but recently came to have myself is that, once the Spot gets his spots back in 1610, Jess tries to give Gwen a chance to clean up her own mess so she won’t get kicked out of the society. I think, honestly, she should’ve just stopped trying to protect Gwen’s society status. If she had told Miguel, he would’ve been able to send in spiders more equipped to deal with the Spot before he charged up again in Mumbattan. But ultimately, she prioritised helping Gwen out and it bit the spiderverse in the ass.

So when she doesn’t stand up for Gwen staying in the society at the end of the movie, to me it makes perfect sense; Jess wasn’t in charge anyways and her sticking her neck out for Gwen had indirectly got them in that predicament in the first place so she decided she wouldn’t do it anymore.

I also think that Gwen returning to her real reality is more neutral than a punishment. Being part of the society wasn’t something that she needed or was entitled to, it was an extra privilege that others, like Miles, did not have. Living in your own universe is how it’s supposed to go and Gwen still had life ahead of her, by Jess and the society’s belief, given that she’s young and hasn’t lived out the adult canon events yet. So, to me, Jess didn’t do anything all that bad to Gwen in the end either.

That’s how I see it, at least!

[s1ll13rg00s3]

Ok but why is there always a reason. When it's about macro all of a sudden it's oh why should I care about the sob story of some bihettie who couldn't ever live through a day of real homophobia. When it's ppl like inosa or swagy or radgoose or countless others getting told disgusting things like that their bfs should kill them, it's laughed off too and it's like oh go back to your hettie world if you're so mad. When it's about catboy it's like oh why should I care if we make fun of the SA of some moid thats praxis actually. When it was ppl saying bi women are just like tims and they're weaponizing their rape it's oh why can't you bihets learn to read none of that matters. When there was a big burst of a bunch of people getting openly attacked by "blackpills" it was oh this is just so online why are the bihetties playing the victim. These ppl are just coming out to advance the position that they won't go after you no matter what you say about bihets. Like the refusal to condemn anything at all unambiguously is very much the point.

Honestly, I've come to the conclusion that people these days (esp young people) are not any more progressive than other generations... I honestly think their politics and values are possibly more conservative than 10-20 years ago - these are just my feelings as a low income bisexual woman who is pretty white passing but I've had friends of other races (esp older friends in their 30s-40s) talk about how they feel the same thing in regards to how ppl are regarding race now and there's tons of posts circulating about how people are more homophobic than 10-20 years ago and we just lost roe v wade, income disparity is worse and social services are cut, etc etc etc

I feel like people such as you described above are highly individualistic and don't really have principles in the traditional way like "x behavior is bad" like if we use examples specific to the recent state of radblr re: the treatment of bisexual users, they don't think that homophobia and misogyny are unacceptable behaviors, they think its perfectly fine to leverage homophobia and misogyny against groups they see as "other" and don't identity with in some way. There's always a reason why the people I have marked as "other" deserve their mistreatment and why my own actions and the actions of people belonging to the group I identify with are excused from scrutiny.

A lot of the time in spite of how they call themselves "radical" (feminist or leftist or whatever) they express behaviors and ideals which are sooo extremely in line with the cultural norm for treating people of marginalized groups.

Examples relevant to this convo: Gay and bi women talking about how they "don't fuck with" bi women because they are untrustworthy and flaky partners and "most of them are basically straight and will end up with men anyway" so they don't need LGB community support

Also, determining that a woman's intimate relationships overshadow all of her other actions, and feeling entitled to information about a woman's sexuality to determine how valid you think her words are and how much support from her community she deserves.

Also, telling a victim of sexual assault and homphobia his problems arent real and he should be quiet about them.

Also, you can't trust women with partners and especially children to take part in feminism because they're going to by default center their lives around their male partners and children, so they're going to at best half-ass things and probably just decide to focus on their families instead anyway, may as well exclude them and write them off.

But its okay because the women in the first example were gay and bi, even though they're saying the same things straight men say about bi women. The second example is okay because it's statements and demands made by other women a lot of whom are gay and bi, not men or gossip rags. The third example is okay because it's gay/bi women speaking to a man. The last example is okay because it's said by other women who call themselves feminists, and not a sexist boss, even if they have the same way of thinking and similar actions with similar results.

And on one hand I get it, these people are trying to pass along their own hurt a lot of the time and they are usually legitimately telling themselves and each other that they aren't doing anything worse than maybe hurting the feelings of individual strangers. But they're adults who are behaving in unacceptable ways, and honestly some behavior should just be unacceptable, like... we should be kind to each other if we want people to be kind to us. Beyond that though, the concept of "punching up" has rotted people's brains and is ruining our community solidarity, is honestly a huge class consciousness issue, and they are doing more tangible harm than they're admitting to themselves.

I see this way of thinking as way more of an obstacle for dismantling these power structures than activists being imperfect in their personal decisions. Like, structural opression does not exist in a vacuum and spring forth from nothing, it requires a culture mindset to continue. Like, the whole deal with structural opression is that the opressed groups "deserve" their structural oppression in some way like it's always "justified". While the power structures/axes of opression/classes DO serve social and economic functions, human beings are emotional beings and most people aren't evil, to get social animals to hurt each other you have to socialize them to do so... like as feminists I think we know that at least.

"It doesn't matter if you shave because you prefer it, it perpetuates the expectation for women to remove their body hair and you are indirectly socializing other women as part of society" but then, if you have a good reason you can excuse homophobia or misogyny and suddenly it doesn't contribute to any larger power structures or the socialization of those in your communities?

If you have conditions in which you support homophobic or misogynistic (or racist and so on) behavior then first of all, you're perpetuating the cultural mindset and socialization that allow the abusive power structures to exist in the first place which beings me to my second point... it will lead to them being used against you by people who deem YOU as "other" at some point, unless you're the most privileged person on earth and there's no axis of oppression someone could decide to flip on you if they feel you deserve it and we all just keep crabs-in-a-bucketing each other

It's in our own best interests to treat each other as well as possible, that is my belief. Anything else is cutting off the nose to spite the face, who benefits?

[epickiya722]

Thinking about this post again and I noticed...

How Alma and Yomi's eye and hair colors are reversed.

As you can see, Alma has red hair and silver eyes (some coloring it has a slight blue tint to them). Yomi has silver/white hair and red eyes.

Yep, they are connected somehow in this story.

How? I don't know, but I'm going to take a guess here.

Now, I will warn you that I do talk about the story here, so if you are not caught up (as of this time, there would be 21 chapters) or not have at all read the manga, be aware of spoilers ahead.

Let's continue!

I'm guessing some of things here.

Yomi "created" Alma himself, turned him into a Maga just as he did with the others.

Could be created from the same person, related maybe.

Alma is 15 and Yomi looks to be in his 20s. He could be older than that.

About to go on a full on ramble here, folks. Stay with me.

Other than the rings, the more I think about it, the more I see there can be some things in the story that hints at their (Alma and Yomi) connection to each other. Of course, there's the obvious, right in your face stuff (like the rings and how Yomi talks about Alma) that you're about to see and then subtle hints (such as their colors).

I know, some of what I'm about to say may be a stretch. Honestly, just me sharing a thought I have. So, you don't have to agree with me here.

Anyways!

Let's reiterate from the story a bit.

In chapter 4, while talking to Yoru, Yomi mentions how he knew Alma and been watching him since his birth. However, he mentions "being rejected once". This could be referring to being rejected by Alma himself or someone else.

A part of me is banking on Alma being the one to reject him at some point. Staying on chapter 4, there's this bit. [Press images for closer view.]

Yomi talks about having a "constant" in life. When you lose it, you become your most fragile. He then states that he'll be patient until Alma has his "constant".

I'm guessing here that once he is sure Alma has someone close to him, possibly Tao, he'll get rid of that person so Alma can be at his most vulnerable and take that spot. Become his "constant". Manipulate Alma into accepting him and being in his family. Making sure that Alma doesn't reject him again.

Maybe he was that "constant" for Alma before getting rejected and is why he says what he said to Yoru. Maybe he is banking on Tao being that current "constant" he wants to get rid of and is using Yoru to do that task. Why Yoru? He's a Maga made from Jin's body, Jin who is Tao's younger brother who felt that his big sister lied and left him behind. (Check out chapters 14 - 15.)

Yomi lied about that "being patient" part because come chapter 8, he shows up to see Alma.

It just seems to me that Yomi has this eagerness to want to have his ideal family. Maybe even possessive in a way, especially over Alma, that he feels entitled that those he changed into Maga must stay in his family. Here's something from the previous chapter (7).

Yomi insists that Kanata and Alma belong right there with him and the others.

As I mentioned, I think Yomi created Alma. When Yomi states he was there since Alma's birth. What if "birth" doesn't necessarily mean "when Alma was a baby"? What if he meant since Alma's change into a (half) Maga?

However, what as I mentioned with my other guess, Yomi witnessed Alma's change into a Maga by someone else? He learned to do that from that person?

"It hasn't been long since Kanata was born..." I'm guessing he meant that Kanata didn't become a Maga until recently. What if this is the context Yomi meant back in chapter 4?

On Alma's end, he doesn't know Yomi. He didn't recognize him when he encounters him. He relates this to Tao even in chapter 16 that he didn't know him.

What he does know is that Yomi has the same ring as him (chapter 10), a ring that Alma has made clear is important to him as he demanded Utsuro to return it to him after she snatched it away (recognizing it as the ring Yomi wears) in chapter 19.

That leaves me questioning as to why the ring is important to Alma. Something tells me he doesn't even know why, but he just feels that the ring is significant.

Those rings could have been given by the same person and something happened to that person. Which left Alma and Yomi alone, something happened between them that caused the two to become distant and Alma not remembering Yomi and also Yomi creating his "family" with the others.

Factoring out that "maybe mystery person", it could be that Yomi gave Alma the ring. Again, something happened between the two and lead to where the story is now.

With either scenario, I do feel certain that Yomi's actions are out of loneliness and possession.

For now, I'll leave off here and continue on another post.

◇

[sensitiveuser]

The deportation of Louise Michel to New Caledonia (1873-1880).

Good evening, I announce my return to Tumblr. I have been absent a lot, due to many things to do, a damn depression, loss of energy, loss of confidence... This post is a bit long, but I thank all those who will pay attention to it. Of course, there may be missing information, despite the fact that I am a "historian" (a future professor and history enthusiast, to be exact) and, of course, in love with Louise Michel :) Besides, I wanted to write many posts about her to commemorate in my own way the 120th anniversary of her death... There you go, it's up to you to read, and if it sucks, please comment and take my work apart (I'll let you imagine my level of self-confidence... When I'll be a teacher, I'll hug the walls in front of students^^) :)

In 1853, Napoleon III and his violent army seized New Caledonia. From 1864 to 1896, New Caledonia served as a place of deportation for those sentenced to more than eight years of forced labor. The law of March 23, 1872 established New Caledonia as the place of deportation for those involved in the Paris Commune. In 1875, according to a report by General Appert, out of the 10,137 sentences to deportation, there were 4,500 sentences to deportation, including 3,417 sentences to simple deportation (Isle of Pines) and 1,169 to deportation in a fortified enclosure on the Ducos peninsula (as was the case for Louise Michel), and 251 sentences to forced labor (penal colony on Nou Island). The authorities defended colonization: agricultural colonization, and it was a question of strengthening the French presence in the Pacific Ocean.

In August 1873, Louise Michel, after spending twenty months in Auberive prison (not far from Vroncourt), was called up for deportation. Here is the letter from her fellow prisoners also sentenced to deportation:

1. Louise Michel. 2. Nathalie Le Mel. 3. Marie Caieux. 4. Madame Leroy. 5. Victorine Gorget. 6. Marie Magnan. 7. Elisabeth Deguy. 8. Adèle Desfossés (wife of Jean-Baptiste Viard – not to be confused with Auguste…). 9. Madame Louis. 10. Madame Bail. 11. Jeanne Taillefer. 12. Marie Théron. 13. Louise Leblanc. 14. Adélaïde Germain. 15. Mme Orlowska. 16. Mrs. Bruteau. 17. Marie Broum. 18. Marie Smith. 19. Marie Caieux. 20. Augustine Chiffon (embarked two years later). 21. Adeline Régissard (embarked two years later).

All these women (including Louise) were sent from Auberive to Rochefort (La Virginie’s port of departure) via Langres and La Rochelle. Louise’s testimonies highlight the extreme harshness of the conditions inflicted on the convicts.

On board La Virginie, Louise Michel and 18 fellow prisoners were locked in a cage. In the cage opposite, Henri Rochefort, Henri Ménager, Henri Place, and Wolowski were locked up. Of course, the convicts were not allowed to communicate from one cage to another, but they did it anyway! The convicts were only allowed to leave the cage for half an hour a day to go on deck. They were very poorly fed. Although the way they were treated depended on the captains, there was no shortage of punishments against them ! "Nathalie Le Mel and Henri Rochefort began to be ill, from the first moment and ended at the last; there were some among us who were also ill, but none during the entire voyage; for me, I escaped seasickness as well as bullets, and I really reproached myself for finding the voyage so beautiful, while in their frames Rochefort nor Madame Le Mel enjoyed nothing"; "There were days when the sea was rough, the wind blowing in a storm, the wake of the ship was like two rivers of diamonds joining in a single current that sparkled in the sun a little far away" (p.383, La Commune).

I quote one of his poems that perfectly illustrates his deportation convoy, entitled "Dans les mers polaires":

The snow falls, the flood rolls,

The air is icy, the sky is black,

The ship creaks under the swell

And morning mingles with evening

Forming a heavy round,

The sailors dance while singing:

Like an organ with a thundering voice,

The wind blows in the sails.

Another testimony: "The cruelest thing I saw on La Virginie was the long and terrible torture inflicted on the albatrosses, which came in flocks around the Cape of Good Hope. After having caught them with hooks, they were hung up by their feet so that they would die without staining the whiteness of their feathers. Poor Cape sheep! How sadly and for a long time they raised their heads, rounding their swan necks as much as they could in order to prolong the miserable agony that could be read in the terror of their black-lashed eyes." (La Commune)

The landing took place on December 10, 1873. She arrived on the Ducos peninsula, which was a hostile environment. It was an environment "without running water, without greenery, and furrowed by small arid hills interspersed with two valleys, Numbo and Tendu, ending towards the sea in marshes where grow puny mangroves and rare niaoulis. Never did settlers want to waste an hour on this dead land." She met up with Paschal Grousset, Olivier Pain, Cipriani, Champy, Henry Bauer, as well as Blanquist friends she had known before the Commune, members of the Corderie du Temple, and marching companies. She learned late of the death of Augustin Verdure (he died in April 1873 in Noumea); in Verdure's case, many letters were addressed to him, but he did not have time to read them... Regarding the letters, she specifies that "the correspondence naturally remained three and four months on the way, and had taken a long time to regularise. Verdure, not receiving letters from anyone, became so upset that he died; a packet of letters addressed to him arrived a few days after his death. Once the mail had been regularised, one could have a response to each letter after six to eight months; there was a letter every month, but what we received was three or four dated. And yet, what a joy the arrival of the mail! We hurriedly climbed the small hill above which was the mailmaster's house, near the prison, and like a treasure we took the letters away". (La Commune).

On the Ducos peninsula, the deportees were installed inside a fortified enclosure surrounded by soldiers. "Through the narrowest of the breaches of the double coral belt, the most accessible, we enter the bay of Noumea. There, as in Rome, seven bluish hills, under the sky of an intense blue; further away, the Mont-d'Or, all cracked with red gold-bearing earth. Everywhere mountains, with arid crimes with torn-out gorges, gaping from a recent cataclysm; one of the mountains has been split in two, it forms a V whose two branches, by joining together, would make the rocks which hang on one side half-torn back into the alveolus, while their place is empty on the other."

In 1874, Louise Michel witnessed the escape of Rochefort, Jourde, Grousset, Pain, Bullière, Granthille. In response, Governor Gaultier de La Richerie called a council of war. "The guards saw while calling out that Rochefort, Pain, Granthille, Bullière, were missing (...) At Bastien Granthille's call someone shouted: he has boots, Bastien, he has gone to put them on. And as the guards were desperately calling Rochefort, some said: he has gone to light his lantern; others: he promised to come back; still others: go and see if they are coming", "Too worried to be able to punish at this moment, the authorities were saving themselves for later. The spectacle of the frank gaiety that reigned among the deportees put the galley slaves into such a rage that they tore down the very innocent curtains of all this, going to check whether they would find anything in the escapees' hut that would put them on the trail" ; "After Rochefort's escape, Messrs. Aleyron and Ribourt, sent to terrify the deportation, probably in order to make Rochefort return, were ridiculous enough to send sentries to the heights around Numbo for a while who looked like they were playing La Tour de Nesle with grandiose scenery". In fact, in 1874, Henri Rochefort escaped in the middle of the night. He went to Sydney, Melbourne, New York, then London, where he resumed his activities as a journalist. For their part, François Jourde and Olivier Pain then worked at the Schiltigheim factory founded by Augustin Avrial and Camille Langevin.

In 1875, she was transferred to the Baie de l’Ouest. She began to take an interest in the Kanak people, their history and their culture. Louise Michel and Charles Malato (son of Antoine Malato, a future important figure in French anarchism) were the rare Communards to denounce and protest against the mistreatment that the colonizers inflicted on this people. Let us not forget that the majority of the deported Communards were hostile towards the Kanaks (they even reduced them to their supposed “cannibalism”!). First, she became friends with a certain Daoumi, who introduced her to the legends of the tribes and the language. She later resumed her duties as a teacher, giving lessons to the Kanaks.

In 1878, Louise Michel (like Charles Malato) supported the Kanak insurgents, "I am with them, as I was with the people of Paris, revolted, crushed and defeated". Ataï, Kanak chief of Komalé, asked the French colonists to end the dispossessions. In June 1878, Chêne, a former convict and guardian of a colonial property, was assassinated by Kanaks; Nouméa was plunged into stupor. The colonial administration reacted by imprisoning 10 tribal chiefs. The preparation of the attack on Nouméa was abandoned and the offensive was launched from Poya to Baie Saint Vincent.

The day before the June 25 uprising, a group of Kanaks came to say goodbye to Louise, who gave them her red Commune scarf as a sign of solidarity. The uprising spread to Grande Terre. On June 27, Governor Olry declared a state of siege. The settlers carried out a bloody repression, which cost the lives of more than 2,000 Kanaks (from June 1878 to June 1879).

Atai was killed on September 1, 1878 by a member of the Canala tribe who had rallied to the colonial troops. His head was cut off to be sent to Paris as a military trophy. Louise Michel considers Ataï's assassins as traitors. In her Memoirs, speaks of Ataï’s death: “Ataï himself was struck by a traitor. May traitors everywhere be cursed! According to Kanak law, a chief can only be struck by a chief or by proxy.” Nondo, a chief sold to the whites, gave his power of attorney to Segou, handing him the weapons that were to strike Ataï. Between the Negro huts and Amboa, Ataï, with some of his men, was returning to his camp, when, breaking away from the columns of the whites, Segou pointed out the great chief, recognizable by the snow-whiteness of his hair. His sling rolled around his head, holding a gendarmerie sabre in his right hand, a tomahawk in his left, having around him his three sons and the bard Andja, who was using an assegai as a lance, Ataï faced the column of whites. He saw Segou. Ah! he said, there you are! The traitor staggered for a moment under the gaze of the old chief; but, wanting to finish, he threw an assegai at him which went through his right arm. Ataï then raised the tomahawk he was holding in his left arm; his sons fall, one dead, the others wounded; Andja rushes forward, shouting: tango! tango! (cursed! cursed!) and falls, struck dead. Then, with blows of an axe, as one cuts down a tree, Segou strikes Ataï; he raises his hand to his half-detached head and it is only after several more blows that Ataï is dead. The death cry was then uttered by the Kanakas, echoing through the mountains.

It is well-known that in the face of the Kanak revolt, the deported communards, with the exception of Louise Michel and Charles Malato, sided with the repression. However, Stéphane Pannoux points out that the majority of the deportees, while awaiting amnesty, were witnesses from a distance, and only a few debated. The deportees were informed of the progress of the revolt through newspapers and mail from France, and by the echoes of the fighting relayed by those living in Nouméa or Ducos, the barracks of the troops arriving as reinforcements. From July 1878 to March 1879, the Album de l'île des Pins published by and for the communards reported on the insurrection. The authors noted the places, the names of the tribes, the identity of the actors including the Kanaks, the chronology of events, the reactions of the population as well as the echoes of the Caledonian or Parisian press. They mention the Kanak victims, the destruction of tribes, the arrests, the convictions, the executions. From now on, the Kanak insurgents are no longer seen by the majority of the deportees as savages driven only by the desire to kill, but as "enemies with opposing interests". In the context of the penal colony, where censorship weighs on writings, this would demonstrate a desire to remain neutral (without entering into the debate around neutrality). Victor Cossé expressed this neutrality, "I am neither Kanak nor a civilizer" (while deploring "the violence of the savages"!).

Here is an example to illustrate the involvement of the deportees in the Kanak revolt (according to S. Pannoux): On June 26, the National Guard of Moindou, which includes 80 deportees, is raised. From the end of 1878 to April 1879, commanded by Charles Amouroux, they became the Canala Scouts; among them we find Gaston Da Costa, Henri Berthier, Alphonse Bioret, Prosper Tavernier, pardoned in 1879 - before the amnesty vote - for their "patriotic action".

In 1879, Louise Michel's sentence of "deportation to a fortified enclosure" was changed to "simple deportation". Thus, she left the Ducos peninsula for Noumea, and continued to teach. "On Sundays, from morning to night, my hut was full of Kanakas learning with all their hearts on condition that the methods were lively and very simple. They carved flowers from their country quite gracefully in relief on small boards that Mr. Simon gave us (...) I have never had more docile and affectionate students. They came from all the tribes", "Poor Daoumi had loved the daughter of a white man. When his father married her, he died of grief. It was for her as much as his own that he had begun this giant's work: to learn what a white man knows. He tried to live in a European way" (La Commune); "In Noumea, I found good old Etienne, one of the Marseille death row inmates commuted to deportation. Mr. Malato senior (Antoine), for whom the mayor Mr. Simon had great veneration, and at the local counter one of our sailors from the Commune, Ensign Cogniet, Mrs. Orlowska who was like a mother to us, Victorine having the Noumea baths under her direction and offering us as many as we wanted. There, we fraternized widely." (The Commune). Louise Michel also gave lessons to the children of Algerian deportees, then in a girls' school.

On July 11, 1880, a general amnesty was decreed. Louise Michel was thus authorized to return to France. She recounts her last moments in Noumea: "The last July 14 spent there, between the two evening cannon shots (it is the cannon that announces the days and the nights), at the request of Mr. Simon, we went, Madame Penaud, director of the Noumea boarding school, an artilleryman and I, to sing La Marseillaise on the Place des Cocotiers. In Caledonia, there is neither dusk nor dawn: darkness falls suddenly (...) We heard the Kanaks crying in the light rustling of the coconut branches." She later learned that her mother had a "paralytic attack."

"Before my departure from Noumea and taking the mail on the shore I found the black anthill of the Kanaks. As I did not believe that the amnesty was so close, I had to go and found a school in the tribes; they reminded me of it with bitterness by saying: but you will not come again! So, without intending to deceive them, I told them: yes, I will come back (…) I looked at the black anthill on the shore and I too was crying. Who knows if I will not see them again ?".

Louise Michel indicates that she became an anarchist in the context of her deportation. On this subject, allow me to retrace a discussion with Nathalie Le Mel on board La Virginie: “Between two clearings of calm where she was not too bad, I shared with Madame Le Mel my thoughts on the impossibility that any men in power could ever do anything other than commit crimes, if they are weak or selfish; be annihilated if they are devoted and energetic”; Nathalie Le Mel claims to agree with her.

Louise Michel returned to Paris on November 9, 1880. Several thousand people were present at her arrival, including Louis Blanc, Henri Rochefort, and even Clemenceau…

Sources :

Edith Thomas

Xavière Gauthier

Laure Godineau

Stéphane Pannoux