#maybe I can leave the original chapters alone and make the next bit a new work? Set it as the next entry in the series to create

[bitchfitch]

I wrote most of this last week but i just finished this chapter and By God i need to make people look at it. There's at least four chapters between where the fic currently stands and this one so it's going to be Ages until i get to post it to ao3. (if ur in the mgw server pwease don't read this dbdbd the second half is my submission for this period lmao)

The Erdtree towered above, it's golden branches shedding leaves like a blizzard did ice. The rot was doing its job. Spreading from where the Halligtree's roots tangled with the Erdtree's. The scarlet lines etching the golden bark in deep relief as it flaked away from the disease it had helped bare into the world.

The thrones before it's entrance, six instead of the rightful eight, were exactly as Miquella remembered them. His and Malenia's were still pulled out of the perfect ring of the others. Sat closer together and out of line. It felt fitting now. The perfect ring of Malenia's and Radagon's children symbolizing the stagnant order they had cast the lands in, only to have it broken by those who now came to claim what was theirs by birthright.

Miquella let his hand brush along the sun warmed wood of his as he passed, Malenia doing the same to hers without knowing he'd done it too.

He smiled to himself, throwing a look over his shoulder to where Mohg still stood at the entrance. His head tipped back as he looked to boughs above. It was impossible to have never seen the Erdtree, but to be at it's base for the first time must have been something spectacular. Though, it was disdain writ in the lines of his face. Unabashed and kept in full view. His knuckles going pale around his trident as he came to face the embodiment of his exiler's theology.

"Mohg," Miquella called to him, turning away from the tree and holding a hand out to him.

Mohg shook his head, took a breath and came to him. Taking his hand in his and brushing his thumb over Miquella's wedding band. His eyes fixated on it before meeting Miquella's.

"You will return to me," He said it as a statement.

"Of course. This is merely a formality," Miquella would have continued with a further reassurance, some promise or lilly scented statement about a day these thrones would be relegated to memory as the three admidst the boughs of the Halligtree became the crown of their dynasty, but his sisters prosthetic being unsheathed and her voice calling out interupted him.

"Incoming," Malenia warned the second before an omen Miquella had only ever seen in Mohg's most devastating and loss filled nightmares landed hard on the bricks between them and their goal.

Morgott stood. His face the angry grimace of a warrior who knows they will soon die in a final, pointless, stand.

Malenia stood her ground, giving the King of Leyndell a chance to accept defeat before blood was spilled. Miquella didn't hesitate a moment. His hand tightening around Mohg's as he pushed his way into Morgott's head. Searching out the threads of his will so that he could pull them loose and weave them anew, only to find a steadfast golden will. A web with no loose ends. Morgott's disgust at his own being and countless years of faithful stubborn service to the Order protecting him from Miquella's tampering.

"Traitors. You are all Traitors," Morgott growled. Miquella felt that golden net constrict, and set itself into a new kind of grim determination. Another dagger thrown and knocked away by the pole of Mohg's trident. Morgott had no chance against the true blooded gods, but he could drag Mohg down with him.

Mohg was gone from his side as soon as his shock gave way to dread. His hand held out to his brother, his trident kept lowered in a show of peace.

"Stand aside, Morgott. It is over. There's no-" his pleading masked as an order cut off as a golden dagger narrowly missed his head. A warning shot, the second dagger already forming in Morgott's hand.

Morgott launched up and summoned his hammer to bring it down on his own blood. "Traitors who would taint these grounds with our curse-" He wouldn't have missed if Mohg hadn't flown back, "-And ruined blood." Another swing another dodge.

Malenia recognized the focus Morgott had on Mohg Taking the opportunity she grabbed Miquella by his arm and dragged him towards the entrance to the tree. "This is not our battle. He will handle it."

Miquella nearly tripped over his own feet attempting to keep up with her while still he struggled to find a crack in Morgott's mind to worm his way into.

It had been centuries since the omen twins last spoke, dead to each other as they were, but still Miquella knew his husband well enough to recognize the grief Morgott's death would cause. He knew his own spell work well enough to know such grief would override Miquella's control of him and let him see all that Miquella has taken.

Morgott cast a spear their way while Mohg stumbled to right himself after taking a blow from Morgott's staff. He lead his shot to attempt to guarantee a hit. Miquella dug his heels in to stop Malenia barreling into its silent path. Again attempting to use Morgott's focus on them to worm into his head, and again finding those self imposed barriers of gold blocking his way as surely as the thorns at the entrance if Erdtree blocked their physical path.

Mohg stole Morgott's focus back, snagging his brother's tail with the prongs of his trident. Still so careful to avoid seriously hurting him as he pulled it back and sent Morgott into a roll.

Malenia forced her still living hand between the thorns, Miquella's joining hers as he gashed himself on the thorns. She called her rot through the brambles and he forced his blood into the cracks it carved to carry the disease deeper until it could clot at the branches bases. She shoved his shoulder to guide him through their carved path before she followed.

The gash in the Erdtree let it's fading light fill the dark and empty void within itself. Their mother hung by her wrists from the last arc of the shattered elden ring. Her head lolled forward, her stone like corpse limp and crumbling. The last vestiges of gold pulsing through the cracks as the arc shattered and dropped her to the ground before her youngest children.

Gold to red, the old god Marika had courted so long ago taking her body and standing in unnatural halting movements. His hand grabbed the handle of the hammer Marika had used to shatter the ring. Radagon's face was impassive as he stared down his true born heirs.

Malenia went on the offense first, her blade cutting through the air nearly too fast to see it's arcs. The razor edge cutting deep into his flesh as she stole his attention. Miquella didn't try his tricks, instead he again brought the blood coursing through his veins out of his wounds. Slashing at Radagon's back with it and forcing it into the cracks of him. Radagon swung his hammer, knocking Malenia's blade away before bringing it down on Miquella. He pulled more from his veins to give himself a shield the moment before the hammer could connect. It protected him from the brunt of the strike even as he was knocked to the ground. He struggled to keep his focus split between the blood within Radagon and the pool that he cowered beneath. His shield began to fail, he let go of his attack to focus on keeping his barrier up as he rolled away. Malenia continued her assault, uninterrupted as Radagon focussed on Miquella, until he was turning on her and cracking his hammer into her ribs. She gasped for breath, her chest stuttering as her godhood struggled to heal the wound before her splintered ribs could pierce her heart.

Miquella surged, forcing his shield to be a discuss and embedding it in the gaping chasm of Radagon's side. Even as Radagon turned on him, Miquella kept his focus, making his blood burst in a matte of thorns and vines deep within Radagon's chest. The hammer cracked into Miquella's leg, shattering the bone and making him crumple with a pained shriek. Still he kept his focus. He sent the new life surging through Radagon's dry veins and ripping through his skin. He staggered, Malenia took the opportunity. Her blade cut true, their fathers head rolling as his body slumped.

Both knew that was only the beginning. Miquella called the blood he had cast out back to himself, he couldn't risk his own veins running dry when the fight had only just begun. His leg burned with crushed veins, his pain tolerance having not been finally built through countless battles as Malenia's had been. Sha kept her attention fully on Radagon's corpse, backing towards where her brother fell to stay between him and what was to come next. Miquella's hands pressed against her ruined side his magic worming under her skin and huredly binding her injuries, his own being less important in that instant.

The moments respite didn't last long. Finally unbound from human flesh, their true parent rose. It's amorphous form warping the world around them and casting the hollow they had battled in into a new shape.

The Elden Beast, the outer god at the heart of this all, made the world accept it in its trueness, and in doing so unbound it's children from the weight of this reality.

Malenia's wings of rot spread, the patches of decayed flesh accross her body morphing into iron hard chitinous plates that melded with her prosthetics. Her helmet splitting as her own godhood crowned her in bone melting fungal growths. She soared. Her grace and speed un-matched when she was constrained turning to a blur of perfectly controlled violence in her trueness.

Her cloak of wilted flowers matched her brothers limp moth like wings. Their silken membrane bending like fabric or petals when he moved. He couldn't soar, he couldn't match his sister in battle. But he could lend her support. Unconstrained he let himself melt and meld with the world around them. Reshaping it once more to match their needs. Saplings sprouted from sun drenched red soil. Their growth accelerated by the blood he spread into them until they shot up impossibly high in moments. The Elden Beast attempted to avoid the torrent of attacks from one twin, only to be speared through by the other. Malenia lopped off it's tentacle like wings, Miquella made the branches of his trees flare and their bases crumble. Pulling the Beast down from its inside to pin it while Malenia finished the job. Her blade found its mark. She pierced through it's gelatinous head and into the glowing eye. It's attempts at battle looking more like the flailing of caught animal as she sent a shockwave through it. Splitting it open in gush of golden sparks and rain of blood.

The world around them turned bright, Miquella reformed whole and new once more as the reality they inhabited constrained itself. He heard Malenia land behind him but saw only the unalloyed gold of their future.

They'd done it.

Breathless, his heart twitching and spasming in a wasted effort to push blood through his empty veins. His father was defeated. The outer god responsible for their existence vanquished and reduced to nothing more than the Elden Ring it had forced into this world.

His eyes burned with the lingering searing light, and when it faded he was knelt before the crumbling corpse of his mother. The Elden Ring glowing bright within the cavity of her body, her broken off head laying on the ground between them. Her soul still clinging to it long after life had left her.

He felt his twin's hand on his shoulder. He put his own over hers and stood.

Together they reunited their mother's head and body, and together they plunged their hands into her chest.

Together they shredded the Queen and her god consort. Together they took the power of an outer god, and together, as the only full blooded empyreans amongst their siblings they at long last completed their accession and took their rightful place as King and Queen.

At long last, the twin gods of rot and growth did away with the stagnation of what came before them.

For the briefest moment upon stepping from the dark of the dying erdtree and into the blazing sunlight Miquella believed the glory of this day had only grown.

Mohg knelt in the center of the ring of destroyed thrones. The battle he'd been left to wage while Miquella and Malenia made their final bid having destroyed the only place all the grace born demigods had conviened peacefully.

Mohg knelt there in the center of one of the many places the graceless first born twins were never supposed to see. His shoulders heaving with life and breath, his brother held tight in his arms.

Miquella grinned, and stepped forward. The day had been won on all fronts. Morgott was an overly loyal fool but clear as the sky above was it to Miquella that he'd been saved from being a final sacrifice to the Golden Order.

Malenia's hand was on his shoulder again. Holding him firm instead of greeting as it had before. A sharp flick of her other, the still slick blade of her prosthesis flinging golden blood onto the soiled stones as she drew her blade once more.

The arm over Mohg's shoulder was limp. Mohg shook, Morgott was still.

One half laid his other down against the blood drenched ground. His hand under his twisting horns to soften the motion and not hurt what is already gone.

He leaned over his brother, pressing their heads together one last time before standing and turning to face those he had given everything for.

Miquella could see now that Mohg's mind was no longer clouded by his spells. No aching obsession coiled around his every thought. No desperate need to please and aid and serve that bordered on madness.

Miquella had promised him a place as lord consort. Had replaced the nightmares that haunted him with dreams of a dynasty born from love and blood that would have never rejected him or Morgott or all the others like them.

Now that they stood over his brother's corpse promises felt like they were worth nothing more than the breath they had been spoken with.

Mohg held his hand out to his side, his trident flew into it. Miquella's strength was nothing compared to Malenia's still he grabbed her arm and held on with all he had to stop her lunging and slaughtering the painfully mortal demigod before them.

"Mohg-" Miquella was a newly minted god king. His voice sounded like a child's in that horrid moment.

"Leave me," Mohg's words were short and cold. His eyes downcast and looking everywhere but Miquella. They had dreamed of this moment for so very long. Of reuniting and falling into eachothers embraces as King and devoted Lord.

Or Miquella had dreamed that, and he had made it Mohg's dream too.

Malenia pulled Miquella behind her, putting herself in the position of his guard as she had so many times before. Staying between him and his husband like the meager Lord of Blood could ever pose a threat to a true god. She guided him away. He hesitated and pulled, weak in the knees and exhausted from the battle, but insisting still on taking slow and halting steps. Hoping to catch Mohg's eye at least once. Hoping desperately to see something other than hate within them.

Mohg wouldn't even look at him.

Malenia pushed on his back. Broke his line of sight until they were out of the throne room and escaping to what had once been their mother's bed chamber.

They had achieved all that they had dreamed. They had become all that they were always meant to be.

Yet he felt only cold dread over the potential loss of a pawn he had always intended to be disposable.

[lxmelle]

I have just been thinking about Sukuna’s 2 choices, since I came across some debate over it. It got me wondering…

Idk, I guess I just I felt the urge to write out my thoughts and it’s become this reflective piece about themes and the parallels that exist between some of the characters.

I think there are some salient themes in the series… namely, Pure Love and what it means to be human. JJK is really an incredibly thought-provoking masterpiece.

Please feel welcome to give it a read if you wish. And then you can make up your own mind - it’s totally ok to disagee.

Respectful Discourse welcome.

Spoilers for 271 and some overall thoughts about the end - I guess this is part 2!

And just a disclaimer: these are just my personal thoughts as a reader. Apologies if my tone forms across a bit blunt at times - I get a little bit overzealous.

First off, I guess souls are real after all. The afterlife is real. It’s mysterious, leaves you guessing, and I gather that it’s meant to be up for interpretation.

As a reader, we are allowed a glimpse of continuity for the characters we grieve for and miss dearly… like a “maybe next time...” or “maybe now they will be allowed happiness”.

For me, personally, it’s a relief because it means satosugu in the afterlife is real 🥹 the brainrot is also real

I digress. Sorry I do that a lot.

Sukuna was shown in an unknown realm, facing Mahito. He is alone at first with nobody else beside him.

As they talk, he recalls having had two paths he could’ve walked on relating to two individuals.

Most of us recognise Uraume immediately, in what was probably their original form. The other person dons what looks like a Miko/priestess outfit and a hairdo that is equally befitting of that role.

I personally think it’s Yorozu due to the defining features and relevance to Sukuna’s story. Other speculations have included his mother and Kenjaku or even Tengen.

Personally? I don’t think it’s his mum. And I don’t think it’s Kenjaku. Not Tengen either.

Just going to attempt to go through the options as a process of elimination here. Take it with a pinch of salt because it’s just an interpretation out of many out there.

First off… mother? Imho, it wouldn’t be a “choice” he could make if it was his mum - you can’t “choose” your mother. It’s not a path... his mentioning of her was apathetic at best and was in passing on the grand scheme of how he was depicted. He seemed to have sympathy for her due to the impoverished nature of her pregnancy, and while it is true that he could have benefitted from a much better childhood / parental circumstances, I don’t think, in the context of having choice of paths to traverse, it is relevant here for it to be his mother.

Second… Kenjaku. Well… He already chose a path with Kenjaku. That’s why he became cursed objects? He already took that path. And it diverged. There was no other possible attachment to Kenjaku. Kenjaku also already used his twin’s soul as a means to his own end, which Sukuna found gross. So yes. Not Kenjaku, imho. They were not friends nor did they have unfinished business to explore. They were a means to an end for one another, as far as i understand. It’s done.

Third: Tengen. Hmm, sorry but it isn’t plausible. The two were in their Heian form. Tengen was pictured to have had fair-coloured hair.

The most likely candidate is Yorozu. Imho, for what it’s worth. The timeline fits. She and Uraume lived in, and were pictured to have been around together, with Sukuna, at the same time in the Heian flashback.

In terms of appearance, too. Everyone there in that unknown realm is wearing something befitting.

The clothes from the era. Hairstyle - like that of a priestess or noble. It’s a woman. And Kenjaku’s defining feature are his stitches. Gege would be sure to emphasise them if it was Kenjaku. Dark hair, not Tengen. Unlikely to be his mum (never been pictured and it’s kinda too late to introduce someone new in the last chapter).

Most notably: The bangs. The bangs. The defining feature of Yorozu are her cropped & stylised bangs. When Yorozu incarnated in Tsumiki that was one of the things that was specifically defined.

Yorozu was strong. She was feared, revered and probably worshipped as a result. She may have had the priestess-like hairdo even if she was from a rural area and drawn to prefer being unconventionally-dressed undressed.

He recognised Yorozu’s presence and accepted her challenge. There was a promise that if he lost he would marry her. If he was dead he would be bound to her in a ritual. But he would never allow himself to willingly succumb to “love” or be bound to anyone in this lifetime. That was what he chose. So it seems logical to me that it was Yorozu is the one there in the image because there existed a choice with both options that he didn’t take in this lifetime. To love her and give her his solitude.

She saw his loneliness. She said it was love. She wanted to give him love. She wanted his solitude (so she said). She wanted him to witness the love that was in her flesh.

So for that reason I think she was equal to Uraume in terms of being a possible choice out of 2 choices that Sukuna could have chosen to walk a path with.

It’s perhaps only fair that I voice my reflections over Uraume.

With Uraume he allowed them to follow him and serve a function, respecting their skill & talent for preparing human flesh as well as a sorcerer. But the boundary of him showing emotion for Uraume was never crossed. It was always Uraume -> Kenjaku (feelings arrow).

For Sukuna in the afterlife to show more than an, “ah, I recognise you” (like he did in the manga) when Uraume appeared before him. Especially since in their incarnated life, when Uraume was injured by Gojo he barely flinched (in fact, he dodged). Plus, during the entirety of the final battle he spared no thought for Uraume.

I can easily headcanon that when he saw Uraume give up their life after he did, the thought of “to think you’d go so far for the likes of me.” For the first time, for Sukuna to acknowledge Uraume as a choice and to physically lead them to go with him, the feelings arrow is now Sukuna -> Uraume & Uraume <- Sukuna. It’s probably the first time Sukuna ever attached himself to anyone but himself.

And to conjure Uraume’s soul (as we recall from above: he was standing alone at first) and physically demonstrate that he was comforting / treasuring them / bringing them along with him - to me, this was him making a choice that he didn’t make in his lifetime.

Sukuna had a choice between love (to be witnessed) with Yorozu and pure love symbolised with sincerity & selflessness with Uraume.

These are THEMES IN JJK.

Like, there are obvious parallels here.

Gojo. Gojo and Geto’s shared solitude. Gojo wanted to be witnessed as a sorcerer. Geto too, in a way. Gojo wanted that big all-out fight that he could do with meaning in it where he could give it his all. He got it from Sukuna and lost.

Gojo wanted/embodied the loyalty and pure love - the only kind he ever got - from Geto. They were willing to sacrifice themselves for the other, for a shared reason. Someone who understood him. Accepted him. Someone he reciprocated these same feelings with. Gojo had embraced humanity.

They died on the same day, one year apart.

He arrived and sat there in the afterlife with his one and only.

His person, Geto, wept in the afterlife after being acknowledged by their beloved. This to me symbolises belonging and being found.

They died on the same day.

Parallels, Parallels, Parallels.

Sukuna had solitude. It was his own. Yorozu saw it and he accepted the battle & fought with Yorozu. The opposite to Gojo was experienced, where he witnessed Yorozu (just as Gojo was witnessed) and he won. He also continued to defeat and reign supreme, just by being the way he’s always been, as if confirming to himself it was the right choice after 1000s of years — and after all those battles, he was repeatedly shown what it was to be witnessed as a monster. At his end, he gave every single challenger his all & to be given what Yuji tried to give him... he rejected it and died (as he wished) when he lost. In his reflections on the afterlife, well, what do you know: he already had it with Uraume. He already had loyalty and pure love and someone to fight with him until the very end. Someone who understood him. Accepted him. (Sukuna would now attempt to embrace his humanity - kinda symbolised with his arm around Uraume).

They then died on the same day.

He arrived and walked off into the afterlife with Uraume.

His person, Uraume, wept in the afterlife after being acknowledged by their beloved. This to me symbolises belonging and being found.

——

So yeah, I get that “it’s possible” for it to be Kenjaku. It’s possible. Maybe. But... imho, he already chose that path. Kenjaku was the only one who knew how to create cursed objects. So who do you think gave consent for that to happen? Kenjaku already went down that path and reached the end... and that was what we saw.

As for other threads...

There are some salient themes like how sacrifice and meaning in life & death were portrayed as “leaving a legacy”. Take Yuki who told Choso to stop living as a curse and now live on as a human, dying in the process of getting the “back” of the prison realm from Kenjaku. It’s like Maki drawing a line under the massacre and living as a sorcerer. And take Kamo who was willing to die and “let his companions lives burn brightly on my ashes” because he didn’t think he had anyone to return home to. And take Geto who made sure Gojo pursued a better path and asked his family to run away after the parade. And take Gojo who believed the world was better off without him if they had a bunch of powerful allies who wouldn’t leave each other behind.

Sukuna lived a life with nobody to mourn him, but he at least had Uraume and Yuji used the last remaining fragment of him as a talisman.

So I think it’s fitting that he looked away from Mahito and carried on.

Mahito was the mirror for humanity. Sukuna faced that mirror. In this life, he was afraid that the curse as a wretched child would only continue, so he relied solely upon himself and it was imho like a retaliation of the cruelty of the world presented to him.

Sound familiar?

How someone who is human and turn? And the core of the other person was love, but the core of Sukuna was power/strength. Funny how they both were referred to as curses. Exorcised on 24th December.

Anyway, Sukuna was more human than he let himself believe, and he refused to stay with Mahito. Without needing to carry that self-imposed title any longer, having lost and died, he was free to choose something he never got to choose: love.

Symbolically, facing Mahito and the two choices facing away was an interesting choice too. And through the essence of what he was reflecting on, he pondered on a better life (with love?) that was facing away from Mahito, the symbol of hate and wrath.

Again: if Mahito was the mirror of hatred (facing Sukuna) then the other two with their backs to Mahito not only signifies past choices, but possible also love.

So we return to the theme of love. The opposite of hate is love. He was afraid of the curse as a wretched being/rejected/unwanted/hated that might immolate him. He wasn’t able to be anything else in this lifetime. He didn’t know how to. He was not willing to, with the element of fear over the risk of making that choice.

I tentatively interpret it as him not having necessarily embodying hate, but having apathy for connection, due to his blind acceptance that the world represented rejection and hate of him. He ended up being caught in a loop of deep-seated fear over his cursed existence - of thinking he was unwanted, and actively denied himself of any opportunity to absolve this belief. A vicious circle and self fulfilling prophecy of sorts. He just sought to dominate and communicate in a singular way through fighting.

And we know so well of the theme from the origins of jjk 0. Gojo’s anecdotal belief that Love is the most twisted curse. Love makes you weak. Sukuna was afraid to love. If there is a next time, it would be nice to choose pure love that wasn’t tied to being killed or killing or solitude that comes with strength. Just to be loved for who he was. Thus, Uraume over Yorozu.

Love, Attachment. What it means to be human. To taste that life means through feelings and emotions. With others as companions. Sukuna always had that capacity in him, as I kind of pointed out before. Albeit selectively, he offered objective praise and affirmation to others; acknowledging their efforts and seeing it as a form of “love” through wanting to prove their existence and challenging him, The Strongest. Seeing their efforts as “love” he gave it back to them in a safe way he knew that didn’t provide any emotional risk to him. A simple “I acknowledge you” was the extend of his love that was shared through fighting. This was probably a product of his life within the Heian times.

I’d like to think he was heading North to become someone new. He always had it in him after all. There were people who believed in him (Gojo, Yuji, Yorozu, Uraume) even if he didn’t believe in himself. It’s poetic and powerful personal / character development.

Speaking of souls; I found it somewhat interesting how curses have souls. Since, presumably, Mahito was presented as a soul? Or was this a part of Mahito’s CT as a cursed spirit who can touch souls? Hmm!

He should be a soul though, since he got absorbed by Kenjaku and should’ve been eliminated by Rika when they all ran amok in his death. The relevance of cursed spirits possibly having souls and having human-like features has always been at the back of my mind.

Gege inserted yet another moral dilemma for us to chew on: if humans and curses share the same traits and value: demonstrating individuality, emotions, hopes, dreams… then are Humans and Curses not so different after all? What of the 127 people Geto killed at the village? What of countless curses killed by sorcerers? Are they considered exorcisms? Sin is sin? Life is life? Karma is karma? Meaning is meaning?

This was already something I yapped about over direct and indirect harm, perspective/frame of reference being one of the biggest things we ought to appreciate in reading a piece of fiction like jjk. It’s so very true that there is no clear right or wrong, and this mimics real life.

Nevertheless, I personally think the overlapping themes, the parallels, the depth... they were all woven really well. I’ve enjoyed examining it.

Am I satisfied? Overall, yes.

Do I wish for more satosugu? Haha. I’m human. I’m greedy! 🤪 So pin that on me! I have been known to plead in jest that Gege will insert more stsg, and I say it while upholding utmost respect for him as an artist and writer. I... don’t think I feel the same respect or reverence for him as a creator when I read some of the comments against him. Criticism is one thing, but I wish people would keep it inoffensive. Even if it’s said in jest, sometimes it is just distasteful? Or even downright disrespectful...

Pieces of good fiction are meant to make you think. All things considered, this series ended rather gently. It was an overall happy end. Peaceful.

Even theoretically & logically: There are parallels with how the world was a cyclical system akin to the karmic cycle. Humans generate bad karma. In the series, karma is like curses. Those who practice the dharma can purify themselves. Sorcerers who can see them exorcise and purify the curses. So the “new world” was actually impossible unless humans were exorcised. And we know that’s not a plausible conclusion. So the real best option was what we got: peace and hope that the new generation of sorcerers can continue influencing a healthy cycle in the world they live in.

I’m not trying to minimise others’ interpretations of what happened and I’m sure all of us have things are are stuck with trying to digest.

As a creator, Gege can giveth and he can taketh.

Please have some gratitude for the person who created the very series that got you in the brainrot to begin with.

As difficult as it is, lean into what made you feel uncomfortable about what you’re dissatisfied with. It might not be about the author. He doesn’t owe you an ending you’re satisfied with. It’s his vision, so we have to process it in a way that makes sense in the lore.

Sometimes it’s referred to as: radical acceptance. We don’t have to agree. But we must find a way to come to terms with how we feel about it. Or not - but that’s on you. The onus is on you.

As a reader we should not be able to control how an author writes out their vision. I have been appalled by how toxic and entitled some “fans” are. Death threats, “when I catch you GG”, a petition for Gojo to be handled by someone else, etc.

Seriously. It’s one thing to have an outpouring of grief or dissatisfaction, but to react like that is just shameful and unhealthy. Do they really think Gege should give in?

Go write fanfiction, for goodness sake... :(

[theunfortunateplace]

Say you love me (Neteyam X OC!Na’vi) Chapter 18

Read On Ao3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Pairing (Neteyam X Original Metkayina Female Character)

Synopsis: follow Luaewe as her world literally gets turned upside down with new na’vi joining her village. Never having to face many obstacles besides finding her way back home. How will she be able to handle the constant jealousy she's faced with and an unwanted love triangle. Disclaimer: All characters in this fic have been aged up for the convenience of storytelling and to match the aging system up with both Pandora and Earth

AGES

OC Luaewe-22 Neteyam-23 Kiri-23 Lo'ak-21 Ao'nung-23 Tsireya-21

Warnings: Smut, Thigh fucking, P in V, Marking, Heavy impreg talk, Breeding kink, Creampie (let me know if I missed anything else)

I awoke bright and early along with the Sully family. 'Teyam and I said goodbye to my mother with her of course not sparing me the kisses. Even Neteyam got smothered in some. This trip was originally supposed to be us two but it quickly turned into a family trip. Was Neteyam happy about that? Nope. Not one bit but he eventually got over it. I on the other hand was excited regardless I never traveled that far before.

Travels like that were only meant for the traders of the clan. “Are you sure you packed everything?” I heard Reya ask as we approached the others by the ikran. “Of course I did! I even packed extra for you.” Lo’ak answered back while giving his ikran a pet. She was tagging along too her mother insisted it was the right thing to do and Lo’ak didn’t want to leave her alone. 

“Why do I have the feeling they will be bickering the whole travel?” Neteyam whispered in my ear as we approached his ikran. I chuckled and looked up at him. “ because it’s highly likely that it’s going to happen, but I’m sure if you fly fast enough we won’t hear it.” I winked at him causing him to smirk at me. He leaned down and kissed my lips. 

I felt his hand caress my face as he deepened it. “Ma teyam did you drink the tea this morning?” I asked in between kisses. He pulled apart resting his forehead on mine. “Yeah…I did…maybe we should have made this trip sooner.” He said in a worried tone. 

I tossed the items my mom requested for me to bring on his ikran and cupped his face. “You'll be fine… if you feel like you need to take a break do it. Don’t push yourself harder than you need to.” He nodded his head placing one last kiss on my lips.

“OK, love birds, are you guys done sucking face so we can fly out?” I heard Jake call out as he finished loading everything up. I heard Neteyam groan pulling away fully reaching to secure the sack I placed on top. 

I chuckled and quickly placed my hand on his. gesturing for him to check if the saddle and everything else were secured. I looked over at Kiri as she talked with Spider who sat in front of her. I still have yet to have a proper conversation with him… every time I try to it’s like he avoids me as if I were ill.  I shook my head turning back to the ikran that was staring me down. I gave him a pat on the head only for him to blow air through his nose at me nudging while against my hand. “ you ready for the ride big guy?” His face changed making me raise a brow confused by his reaction, but he quickly licked a long strip on my cheek. I groaned and patted his head. 

“Yup-yup, I love you too.” I walked off wiping all the slobber away and shook my head that dude needs to work on expressing his feelings in another way. I climbed on top and sat towards the front in my normal spot. I can’t believe I would be going to the forest…. Let alone meeting his grandmother. I felt his eyes lingering from behind me causing me to look and sure enough he was. 

We didn’t have much time and every second we spent here the less time we had to make it there before his rut. “OK, is everyone ready?” I asked shaking the worriedness from my voice. I gestured to 'Teyam to get on and he followed. “All set!” Jake called out. Before I could even reply back I felt 'Teyam wrap his arm around me tightly inching closer to me. “You know the drill hold on tight.” I gripped the leather strap and he took flight. 

I gasped feeling the wind rush past my face as the ikran screeched out. No matter how many times I fly with him it never gets old. 

Jake took his position leading us in the front while Neteyam followed closely behind. Ever so often I could hear their voices communicating their next move or to ask questions. The technology was all new to me. Neteyam didn’t wear the device often but I guess since we are going to the forest it’s necessary.

I wonder if they use it because you can’t hear anyone when flying and it’s not like us, the Metkayina, where we have sign language….

My mind was filled with so many questions. Sure I’ve wondered how different clans lived their life but it just dawned upon me that the Omaticaya use many forms of human technology… 

My mind was like this for hours new thoughts popped in. Questioning many different things it wasn’t until I felt a drastic shift in our direction that I realized we were making our first stop. 

He landed the ikran and got off. Holding a hand out to assist me, I smiled and thanked him with a kiss causing him to smirk. 

“Gosh, I have to pee!” I hear Reya say as she practically runs off somewhere. I chuckled and looked over to Kiri and Spider. I locked eyes with Spider and I saw nothing but fear in his eyes. Even though I was waving and smiling at the pair. I bit my lip and turned back to Neteyam who was looking at me with a confused face. 

“What's wrong?” He asked I shook my head reaching for the snack bag and pulling out some dried fish. “It's nothing.” I looked up and smiled at him only for him to caress my cheek. He leaned down moving closer to my lips, when I suddenly I heard a crunch. I opened my eyes to find this man chewing on my damn fish. 

“You little-“ he abruptly kissed my lips and started running away. “ I’m gonna get you once we get to the forest, you fish thief!” I yelled out. I huffed and ate the remains fish in my hand and walked over to Lo’ak who was stretching his legs out. 

“How was the ride so far?” I asked he scoffed and smirked. “ I’m sure you can guess what it was like Luaewe.” I chuckled and shook my head. 

“Well, it’s almost eclipse she will go to sleep soon, and the crankiness will wear off.” He smiled slightly and looked away for a short moment. “ I don’t suppose you have something that will help with nausea?” I smiled and patted his shoulder. 

“And who would I be if I wasn’t prepared for everyone? Come I’ll give you a couple of things to give her.” He let out a sigh of relief and quickly walked over with me. 

I undid the knot on the satchel that held all my medicine and took out some candy I made. “These should help.” He raised a brow. “You sure, because it just looks like candy to me.” 

I chuckled. “It is candy, I made it. I figured we wouldn’t have time to sit and brew tea and all that extra stuff…well you guys might but Neteyam and I don’t.” 

He hummed.” You know that’s a really smart idea. I never seen something like this.” I smiled and thanked him. He looked off again and scratched the back of his head causing me to raise my brow. 

Is there something else wrong? Why is he acting like this? Normally he’s cracking jokes or goofing around or something. “OK, what's going on? This.” I moved my hands in a circular motion. “ is making me worried.” 

“ I- shit…. You know this is really awkward to talk about especially considering you’re my brother's mate and now my sister...” I huffed and placed my hands on my hips.  What the hell is he trying to say? And why is it so hard? “Lo'ak?” He looked at me directly. “ Just say it.”

I chuckled, causing him to smile. “How did you know you were in love… what did it feel like?” I blinked slowly, completely stunned by the question. 

“Wow ok, I wasn’t expecting that um…. Well ha….At first, I was extremely conflicted due to some stuff that happened in my past… I don’t think there was a specific incident that made me love him, it was really everything combined. Like sure when you like someone you feel a pull or whatever but every second I wasn’t with him felt emptiness… when he held me even at the most awkward times.” I chuckled and looked off into the distance. “ It's like this warmth engulfed me and I’m not talking about body heat. I could literally feel his love. I don’t know, it's hard to explain but when you know you know.” 

I looked back at him only to find him in a transfixed state. As if he were thinking really hard. It wasn’t until Reya called out to him that he snapped out of it. We don’t have deep conversations together but I could tell he was going through something.

I felt arms wrap around me from the back and I smiled leaning into his chest. He placed a kiss on my forehead and hummed. “ Where did you run off to fish stealer?” He looked down and chuckled. 

“ I had to handle some business before we headed back out.��� I raised a brow in confusion. I mean if he had to use the bathroom he could of ju- ooooooooh. I turned around and he tilted his head. 

“ Why didn’t you ask? I would've helped.” I said lowly. He smiled and gently grazed his thumb against my cheek. “Ma orae if I did that I definitely would have not been able to hold back and would have pushed myself into an early rut.” I pouted but accepted his words. That’s the last thing either of us want. “You're right.....well, did you at least get the satisfaction you needed?” He laughed out and gently ran his hands up and down my back only for him to firmly grasp my ass making me gasp out in shock. “‘'Teyam, your family is right there!” I whispered, yelled, looking around quickly to make sure no one was watching 

He lowered his face to my ear and playfully nipped it.“Shh, it's not like they would notice.” Of course they would you’re literally gripping my ass in broad daylight gosh I hope Tuk isn’t looking over here!

“It was enough, but I would have preferred that tight little pussy you have.” I playfully swatted his arm causing him to chuckle moving his head away. “You can be touchy all you want but you better keep that mouth in check!” I pointed my finger at him and furrowed my brows. 

“OK, I’ll keep it in check. Wouldn’t want to accidentally turn you on, or we would be stuck here for days and I probably would end up with a broken arm again.” 

Too late for that ‘'Teyam, and I’m sure he can tell because that damn smirk on his face is staying put. He leaned down kissing my lips. I felt his hands starting to grope my ass as he tried to deepen the kiss. I pulled away quickly and pushed his chest away. He looked at me as if I had betrayed him but quickly came back to his senses. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He pulled back fully and let out a frustrated sigh. 

I shook my head and gave his arm a squeeze. “It's okay, that’s why I’m here to keep you in check.” I said trying to lighten the mood, he let out a soft chuckle and nodded his head. “We should head back out. I’m not sure if everyone else is ready but we gotta go.” He said while looking around. 

He pressed his fingers on the device and spoke. “Me and Luaewe are gonna head out first.”  I watched as Jake popped his head up from whatever he was doing. “OK, we will meet at the third stop.” 

I reached back into the back and took out another piece of dried fish. I was just standing there watching them both communicate but I had no clue what they were saying. I felt Neteyam’s hand graze my lower back. 

I turn away from the bag making sure to close it and look up while taking a bite of the fish. He chuckled and leaned down. I instinctively moved away having a feeling he would take another bite from me but he held me in place and kissed my forehead.

“Come on, my pretty girl it’s time to go.” Heat suddenly rose to my face causing me to look away. But I quickly grabbed the saddle and hopped up. He positioned himself behind me swiftly connecting his kuru. He wrapped his arm around my midsection and before I knew it we were off in the air again. 

I have no clue when the next stop will be maybe hours from now well into Eclipse. I bit my lip feeling him reposition himself behind me as we leveled out in the air. Gosh, this was going to be a difficult ride. I mean I knew it was but shit his fucking dick is pressed up against my ass and it’s taking everything in me not to reach back and grab it. 

But the last thing I want is for us to crash into the ocean……this is gonna be a long trip. 

-

“OK, we will camp here for tonight leave out early morning and meet up with everyone at the third stop.” I hum as he helps me back off the ikran. 

“How many more stops till we get there?” He walked over to the bags and took some off. “maybe two more, it all depends on the weather really.” 

I smile and fold my hands together. That’s awesome we’ll I’m sure the weather won-“ the sound of thunder crashed interrupting me. “Well shit.” He chuckled as I looked up to see if there were any rain clouds. 

I quickly walked over to him and took some of the bags. “Will those be alright in the rain I’m not sure how your material holds up?” We moved under a tree and set everything down. “Yeah, it's made out of leather and we waterproofed it…. It would be ideal if we found a cave if it’s going to rain but we will have to make do with this tree.” He said fiddling with something in the bags. I tried to help but he told me to just sit so I did. 

If I knew one thing about Neteyam it’s that if he tells you he’s got it and doesn’t need help he doesn’t. Well until you hear cursing or a loud noise. I watched as he strung up the material that would keep us dry.  

I shook my head subtly walking back over to him and went into the bag taking out the blanket we would sleep on. I heard his playful scoff from behind me and I smiled. He should have known I wouldn’t stay put. I jolted up feeling a sudden wetness on my back. “Looks like we landed just in time.” He said while quietly moving the other bags under the material. I hummed and sat down watching the rain hit the sand. “ I should have known not to jinx the weather.” I lightly chuckle as I feel him pull me closer and wrap his arms around my waist. 

“It's fine, at least we get to enjoy the rain together…. You know I just realized this is the first time since mating  we will sleep alone.” I smiled and rested my head against his chest. 

“You're right… it’s weird not having Tuk trying to infiltrate our cuddle time or my mom waking us up.” I shook my head. I’ll never forget the day when Neteyam and I were about to have our afternoon nap. Anyone walking by would think we were about to have sex with how intense we kiss before we sleep. 

But that didn’t matter to Tuk. She ran into our area and jumped on us complaining how it was unfair we didn’t spend time with her as much as we do with each other. 

“Mhm, we are finally alone. Maybe when we get back our marui will be finished hopefully not though. It’s my duty- well back in my clan once mated the male or one who initiated creates the hammock or   marui as you guys call it.” 

I raised a brow confused do they not sleep in marui’s like us. “ wait so how do you guys sleep?” 

“ in hammocks. There are individual ones, then ones for couples, and lastly the family ones but after moving to the mountains because of the war… we had to set up tents you can still sleep in the hammocks inside or sleep on the floor…. It’s kinda complicated you’ll see when we get there.” I hummed and moved forward reaching for some fruit. 

“ I’m excited especially since you guys really talk up the forest.” He chuckled while placing a kiss on top of my head. 

“ because it deserves to be talked up!” He held his hand out and I placed some of the fruit in his hand willingly. “ you think Sa'nok will make some porridge for me?” He let out a laugh and I looked up with a serious face. “ I’m serious! You said it was better so now that I’ll be there I can’t leave without tasting it!”

“You'll get your porridge don’t worry… and the other delicious foods,” I closed my eyes and hummed. That’s another thing I had no clue about. The types of food they ate… 

I felt his face dip against my neck lightly nipping at my skin. “Why do you have to smell so good ma Orae?” He grunted against me. I bit my lip feeling his dick press against my back. “ I don’t know why this time around is so hard for me but shit!” I felt him squeeze my hips trying to lift me up but continued to restrain himself. 

“Let me help you-“ I said trying to turn around he lowly hissed warning me to stay put. “Luaewe, you know we can’t.” He strained. 

“But it’s hurting you! I can’t stand seeing you this way, 'Teyam. You don’t have to put it in. I can jerk you off or you can put it in between my legs.”  

He nipped my neck again as his hand slid around to the front forcefully cupping my pussy. My breath shuddered at his fingers grazing my clothed clit.

He let out a deep chuckle against the back of my neck but cursed as I touched his thigh. I was still wet from earlier. It’s probably what’s driving him to behave like this. Gosh, I feel so bad! And the fact that I can’t even help. “My hand isn’t even fully touching your pussy and I can feel how wet it is.” 

He playfully tapped against my clit causing me to jolt back in surprise. “What I would do to be inside you right now… feeling that tight hole squeeze me as I fill you up with my cum.”  I let out a whimper as he continued to speak in my ear. 

Fuck I don’t remember him talking this dirty before. I let a moan slip from my mouth and I could feel him smirk against me. “But this will have to do. Lay down for me sweetie.” He patted my thighs letting me know what he decided and I followed his instructions. 

I laid down on my side with my thighs pressed together looking back waiting for him to move closer to me. He looked at my ass hungrily grabbing it with his hand. Even with hands as big as his some of it flowed out between his fingers. 

He chuckled lowly moving his hands up my hips speedily undoing my tweng. His chest pressed up against my back causing me to lean into him. He dipped his face back into the crevice of my neck and let out a deep growl. “You smell so good.” His fingers found their way to my folds massaging my entrance. I let out an airy moan reaching back to hold his forearm. “So wet for me. Fuck I just want to be in you!” 

You and me both! “Please?” I let go of his arm reaching back further for his cock that was pressed between my ass. “ I don’t want your fingers. Put it between my legs ''Teyam.” I gave up trying not to sound desperate right now. I wanted my mate and I couldn’t even have him the way I wanted.

He moaned as I gripped the base of his cock as I lifted my leg up slightly. “mmmm.” I bit back my moan as I rolled my hips back into him. Setting him in place nestled snugly between my folds.  He forcefully grabbed my face detaching his lips from my now abused neck and latching them onto my lips. 

He started moving slowly at first. Almost antagonizingly slow. Even in his horny pre-rut filled brain he still had it in him to torture me. But that all came to an end very quickly. His hand caressed my body spending extra time on my breast. When suddenly he sped up out of nowhere causing me to jolt forward with the increase in stimulation. 

“ ssshit!” I moaned out while gripping his arm once again as he pulled me back holding me still. “I’m not even in you and you’re running?” He scoffed “How is my mate supposed to tend to me when she can’t even take my cock rubbing up against their tight little pussy huh?”

He lowered his hand to my clit rubbing it ferociously. I gasped, feeling an orgasm fast approaching but he switched up the pace on purpose. “Please please please please please-“ I choked out begging for him to make me cum but he refused. He pulled his hand away gripping my breast again. 

“Fuck, I love these! And your fucking ass. I wonder how big they’ll get when you swell with my child.”  It’s just his pre-rut talking. It’s just his pre-rut talking. I chanted to myself trying to rationalize his words. He leaned down kissing me once again quickly deepening it. “Please let me cum.” I begged against his lips. 

He smirked moving to my ear. “You wanna cum? Yet my cock isn’t in you? You think I’ll let you do that?” I whined getting frustrated with this game! “All you have to do is-“

“Just fuck me already damn it!”  I shouted out fed up with all this teasing and non fucking. Maybe I’m out of my mind maybe I’m just fucking horny but if he cheats me out of another orgasm I will lose it! 

I felt him smirk pulling back slightly and slowly pushing into me. “Yes yes yes yes!” I chanted as the swell of his cock stretched me. His lustful moans filled my ears as he settled deeply into me. I gasped, feeling our Kuru’s connection. I didn’t even feel him touch mine. 

He moved slowly trying not to hurt me but he could tell I was fine and quickly picked up pace. The sounds of our skin hitting and the sound of my squelching pussy overpowered the downpour that was upon us. Thank Eywa we were alone or else this would be an embarrassing thing to happen with everyone there.  Though his speed picked up his strokes were deep and with the curve of his cock it almost felt like it was intentional. 

“T- 'Teyam, you're too deep!”  His hand went back to my breast rolling my nipple in between his fingertips. I moaned out arching my back from the new stimulation. He chuckled sinisterly knowing exactly what he was doing. 

“You're mine.” He nipped my ear with his teeth “If your breasts are this sensitive now just imagine what they’d feel like full of milk.” His stroke grew deeper, more aggressive. I cried out feeling him grow larger. How is that even possible? “Fuck ‘'Teyam please you’re too-“ 

He growled tightening his hold on me refusing to let go. “ I’m gonna fucking breed you! I’m gonna get you pregnant muntxate.” My pussy clenched vigorously around him causing him to chuckle. “You like that huh? You like when I say I’m gonna get you pregnant hm?” 

His hand moved to my belly causing me to gasp. “ I’m gonna love watching you waddle around the village parading that round belly. Having it be a physical example of what I did to you.”  He said while caressing my belly as if a bump were already there 

He bit down onto my shoulder pushing me right over the edge. He held me tight as a scream of pure pleasure ripped through my throat. My body convulsed from how intense the orgasm hit me. But despite how forceful it was he continued to rut into me as his knot began to swell. I couldn't help but get turned on even more. Knowing the risk of us already performing tsaheylu. If he were to knot me, I would for sure get pregnant.  

He bit down harder as his cock twitched inside of me spurting his hot cum against my cervix. I can only imagine what it feels like to be stuffed with his knot. 

I reached placing my hand on his thigh and rubbing it as he came down from his high. His soft lips peppered my neck with kisses causing me to smile. “Fuck.” He breathed out, “I- I'm sorry, my love…… I got carried away shit.” I shook my head while attempting to look back. 

“It's okay, you're alright right?” 

“Mhm,” he said lowly while dipping his face in my neck still trying to calm his breathing.  I reached back brushing the braids out of his face. “Then everything is fine and you feel relieved no?” He nodded his head and I smiled. 

“Then there’s no need to worry ‘'Teyam.”I tried to pull away to fully check out his arm but instead, he tightened his hold around my waist. I chuckled while tapping his hand. 

“Alright big guy, let me go I need to properly check your arm.” He groaned and I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at his antics.  But my laughter was quickly replaced by a shudder of my breath as he pulled out of me causing the cum to rush out of me. 

“Gosh!” It felt almost erotic feeling the warmth of his seed run out of me and onto my inner thigh. I looked back to see his glistening cock slowly relax and knot fully deflate. I sat up with him following suit and reached for his arm. 

Unlike Ronal, I wouldn’t be able to tell the healing status when most of it had healed already but I can’t tell if it’s broken. I felt around for anything out of place and listened to him for any small sounds to slip from him. But there was nothing everything was fine. I looked up and smiled while letting his arm down, “Nothing is broken.” I said softly 

He reached up to caress my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “Thank you.” I giggled against his lips and patted his thigh. 

“It’s my duty.” I squealed as he pulled me into his lap and laid down. “ ‘Teyam! We have to wash up.” I whined only for him to shush me. 

I let out a groan and laid my head on his chest accepting defeat. His cum is gonna get all crusty! “You're gonna be the one scrubbing your cum off of me!” Laughter erupted from his chest 

He cupped my ass while sitting back up. Good because I didn’t want to deal with that in the morning. “You just won’t let me enjoy my muntxate huh?” He said while standing up still holding onto me. 

“You must want a crusted-up muntxate then if you thought I would just let you let me lay there! Skin as smooth as mine takes care!” He shook his head playfully and scoffed. 

 I felt him playfully tap my ass, “alright, let's make it quick then”. He looked out from under the material keeping us dry and hummed. “It looks like the rain slowed down but we should still make it quick. 

“Are you gonna put me down?” I asked while tilting my head he smirked. “No, this is payment for not letting me lay down with you.” I groaned playfully but I enjoyed it when he carried me. To him, I practically weighed nothing. I leaned that quickly from how many times he scooped me up and placed me in his lap. 

I smiled and shook my head as I pushed my face into his neck. “Nga yawne lu oer“ 

“ I love you too,” he says.  I tried to shove my face deeper and he chuckled. The rest of the night was spent with us bathing and playing around in the water longer than we should have but we eventually got out and went back to ‘camp’ as Neteyam called it. 

I was cuddled up against his warm chest with his arms wrapped around me. I listened to his heartbeat while the sounds of light rainfall could be heard in the back. I gasped while closing my eyes feeling the connection of our kurus. 

His hand grazed my back as he placed a kiss on my forehead. “Sleep Ma Oare, I’m not going anywhere.”  He said in a low tired voice. I continued to listen as the sound of his heart beating turned into a trance….

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[weirdestbooks]

A Civil Disagreement Chapter 9

Attack On The Fort (Wattpad | Ao3)

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March 4, 1861

President Lincoln was a breath of fresh air compared to the inaction of President Buchanan. He understood that they had to take action against the secessionist traitors, but he also understood that reconciliation and peaceful actions were the best at making sure this situation didn't get out of control.

He also tried to explain to the South that he was not interested in taking their slaves away, but knowing America’s children, they were most likely ignoring him in favor of hearing the things they wanted to hear and taking an attack on the expansion of slavery as an attack on them.

It was a habit they had yet to grow out of. 

Until then James was stuck trying to ensure that the remaining Southern states weren’t interpreting laws or policies that were made to benefit the whole nation as a personal attack. It was harder than it looked, especially since the North could be just as bad.

“You look worried.” James heard President Lincoln say from behind him. 

“What gave that away? The look on my face or the fact that my nation is falling apart?” James asked, trying his best to imitate America’s pained anger. While James was just as upset, America had a far greater emotional state in the whole situation.

“They’ll come back. I’ll make sure of it. I promise you, United States of America, that I will do everything in my power to keep you in one piece.” President Lincoln said. James smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. President. That’s a relief to hear,” he said. 

“What do you think are the reasons behind why your children supported this plot?” President Lincoln asked. James sighed.

“They’ve convinced themselves they are victims because of new anti-slavery sentiments. That in some weird way, this is taking away their rights, like I’m supposed to cater to their needs. Slavery isn’t needed in the new territories, and most of them voted against it. After all they did to Kansas, do they really think they are innocent?” James said, thinking back to all the times he held Kansas and promised her that the bloodshed would end, that her people would stop dying soon.

They were supposed to be a democracy. The South didn’t need to try and sway the vote. If they had just let Kansas and Nebraska vote in peace, if both sides had just left them alone, that could have all been avoided.

James exhaled a shaky breath. Now wasn’t the time to ponder on that.

“Do you know of anything that could change their minds? If we are able to do that, maybe they can convince their politicians to change their minds as well.” President Lincoln asked. James shook his head. 

“No, I don’t think words alone will change their minds. My family is stubborn, and for better and for worse, we are a family of action-takers. And I fear I didn’t set a good example in my own war against my father. Although, I would like to think I was more hesitant in action then they are. It would almost be amusing how the states least eager for independence then are the most eager for independence now if it wasn’t giving me such a headache, among other pains.” James said, offhandedly mentioning the problems that the seceding states were causing to their body. President Lincoln looked concerned at that.

“What do you mean, America?” He asked. James bit his lip, thinking of how he could describe that feeling in a way that would make sense to those without a country body.

“This will sound weird in human terms, but I am made up of the states, and it might not look this way, but I can feel them trying to leave, and with the creation of that fake nation, the empty place where they should be grows larger. It makes me feel…different. Like a copy of the original.” James said, drawing from the pain in the body and the little thing America had confessed to him before. President Lincoln gave him a small smile.

“I think I understand what you are trying to say. Don’t worry. They’ll come back soon enough. I promise I will do everything in my power to keep your family together.” He said. Relief flooded James’ body at that.

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Jams said, returning his smile as his hand came to rest on the empty spot in his chest. James couldn’t feel it as strongly as America did, but he could feel it there.

With any luck, they could fix that before it became a major problem.

• ───────────────── •

April 12, 1861

It was hard to believe it had come to this. To violence. South Carolina had thought that Dad would’ve been more understanding of everything and wouldn’t have pushed her to this point. But since he was refusing to leave her lands, South Carolina now had to make him leave.

It felt wrong, deciding to fight Dad. Especially since South Carolina realized the consequences of this action, even if others didn’t.

Maybe that was just because she knew her father.

“I thought you were excited for battle.” Brigadier General Beauregard told her as the cannons began to fire on Fort Sumter. South Carolina sighed.

“It is not the battle that is causing me worry. I have no doubt we will win, but this does break all the tension that has built up and will no doubt be used to justify an invasion. I am worried about the future.” South Carolina said, squeezing her fingers. It had always been something she did while nervous, and right now, nothing made her more nervous than her Dad’s reaction to this.

Even if he had started it, South Carolina knew he wouldn’t see it that way. Dad was always good at being blind to his own flaws.

“Do you think if the Union calls for an invasion, the rest of the South will join our Confederacy?” General Beauregard asked. South Carolina shrugged. Her siblings were complicated people at best, and she would never understand them.

Like Maryland and Delaware, for instance. South Carolina was still convinced that those two spoke a completely different language at some points because they spoke in way too many riddles. Either that or they are different enough from the rest of the slave states that South Carolina just can’t make sense of them.

“I have hope that they will, but I also want to prepare for them to…well, not join. Better to be prepared for a worst-case scenario. But if Virginia and Maryland both come to their senses and help us, we will have their capital surrounded and a much easier time forcing a surrender. But that’s something we should worry about later. Right now, we just need to take this fort and further secure our own borders.” South Carolina said, before noticing something, “Major Anderson isn’t firing back?”

“He said his supplies run out in three days. Perhaps he doesn't have enough to attack back.” General Beauregard suggested.

“No, that can’t be it. My father has been trying to send him food and reinforcements, not cannons. Major Anderson is most likely waiting for light, so he can see where the attacks are coming from better. He has limited supplies. He has to make his shots count.” South Carolina analyzed, looking out over the darkened waters around the fort.

“I sometimes forget you are more experienced than I am.” General Beauregard said. South Carolina snorted.

“This is not the first ‘rebellion’ I’ve been a part of,” she said. Even if she didn’t have her body then, she was still there, present to observe the fight and even participate a few times.

“This isn’t a rebellion though?”

“But that’s how my father will see it. I just hope he doesn't take after his father that much. But considering he actually cares…well, that’s a major difference. Hopefully, it’ll keep him from sending anyone like Tarleton down here. We don't need another butcher in the Carolinas.”

“At least actions like that will help convince the rest of the South to realize who their true allies are.” General Beauregard pointed out.

“I have a feeling Dad’s reaction to this battle will help them realize that much faster than a murderous officer will.” South Carolina said, turning back to the still-dark harbor, where the fort bearing her father’s flag was.

She hoped that the actions that were being taken to finalize her independence didn’t hurt him. South Carolina still didn’t hate him, even after everything. She just hoped he wouldn’t hate her either.

But this seizing was about to change everything. 

South Carolina finally understood what her dad meant when he said he could feel when his nation was about to change.

• ───────────────── •

April 15, 1861

“How dare you?” Virginia hissed in DC’s face as she informed her of President Lincoln’s request.

“You say that like I had anything to do with the decision.” DC snapped back.

“You are the capital.” Arkansas began.

“But I’m not the government, and certainly not the president. Otherwise, your siblings wouldn’t be attempting rebellion. Or doing the kind of stuff South Carolina just did and attacking us. If you want to blame someone, blame him. He’s the one who attacked first.” DC told them.

“He was only claiming what he believed was his. He wasn't trying to start a war.” North Carolina tried to reason.

“Violence only breeds violence. He knows that.” DC said calmly.

“He tried diplomacy!” Tennessee insisted. DC raised an eyebrow, and shot her a skeptical look.

“He illegally tried to leave and then tried to get our father to give up a federal fort before attacking it when Father refused to comply,” DC told her. Tennessee still looked resolute in her opinion, and DC sighed. 

Of all the bull-headed hills to stand on….

“Still, Lincoln can’t just summon thousands of militiamen to march through our states and use them to attack our siblings,” Virginia said. 

“It’s not to attack them. It’s a precaution in case of war. In case anyone else decides to attack. I don't want to hurt our siblings, either. But the situation is escalating, and we need to be prepared.” DC tried to explain. She knew the situation was getting emotional for everyone, but there was some degree of overreaction to all this. Maryland let out a frustrated huff.

“You’re the capital! Can’t you do something?” She asked. DC shot her an annoyed look.

“That's not my job, and you know it.” DC snapped. Maryland had the decency to look ashamed, but the others still looked pissed.

“This…this isn’t something my people will let Father get away with,” Virginia said. DC took a step forward and moved her head up to look Virginia in the eyes.

“Then what side are you choosing?” DC asked. Virginia was silent, but they both knew what that meant.

Looks like they weren’t done losing states yet.

[fanaticmorelikefantastic]

I'm trying to split this into parts but I think I like the huge chunk of text best

A few days passed, a few chapters passed, despite my conscience. I lie on my bed, back to the mattress and laptop precariously perched on my lifted knees. The character Leon is very much different from (my first impressions of) real life Leon, so it should be acceptable, right? I could always ask him about it the next time I see him. Speaking of, I haven’t messaged him yet. Does he respond to texts, or is he more of a call-me kinda guy? There’s only one way to find out, right? I flop my head to the side, looking at my phone which was staring right back at me. I place down my laptop and sit up straight. This is serious business. I open a new message thread with him as the recipient and stare. It really is hard to know what to say. Would he even reply? It is pretty late. Does eight o’clock count as late? I felt stupid. I wrote a number of drafts, thirteen to be exact, before landing on the glorious, eloquent, concise and demure:

 ‘Hi :)’.

Wow. How original. I sigh after I send the thing, not knowing if I destroyed my entire reputation with him with just one word, but then I remember how stupid I acted when we were talking in person, so I felt a little bit relieved. Maybe he was into stupid people. I had been staring at my phone screen for a while, and I almost jumped when Leon’s reply came in. 

‘Hey there stranger.’ My mom says that. I laugh a little bit to myself, the tension I didn’t know I had accumulated leaving my shoulders. I fall onto my back and type away.

‘About that coffee date,’ Might as well call it what it is, right? ‘How’s tomorrow at 5?’ Most regular working people get off by then right? Or should I not have suggested a weekday at all? That would’ve been better, right? I need to stop saying right, it's making me sick.

‘Yea that works great.’ Oh thank God. I quickly type back (not too quickly though, I don’t wanna mess up my spelling and look like even more of an idiot).

‘Okay, I’ll see you then?’ I held a breath.

‘Of course.’ 

The day of reckoning is upon thee. Thy heart shall be examined and let woe be also upon ye if any impurities they find, for ye shall be smote with their unquellable wrath and thy face forever stained by iniquity.

Today is the coffee date.

I sigh and turn on my side, then my other side. It’s only… 8 in the morning, so I turn over (again) and try to go back to sleep so I can avoid my problems. Problems, like what I should wear. What should I wear?... What should I wear! I sat up so fast my skin almost flew off my bones. I haven’t been on a date since, since, since- My face contorted into shock as I came to the realization that I have, in fact, never been on a date. I think. I hope I’m wrong as I slug out of bed and into my houseshoes. I tried my best to think through all (three) of the drunken parties I had in college, but anybody I liked then ended up being either taken, or a scumbag. Some guys would ask for my number at parties, but they never contacted me, so I think they were just playing around. There was this one guy back in high school, but does that even count anymore? Not that it matters because by the time I figured out he (formerly) liked me back, he had already dated and broken up with one of my friends. Then there was- I don’t even want to think about that mess. I rinsed the lather out of my hair (I started taking a shower while boarded on this thought train) as I came to the rather depressing conclusion that I’ve never been in a serious and proper relationship with someone. I might have gone on a couple dates, but they must not have gone well, cause I don’t remember a single one. Suddenly, I felt very pathetic. Am I really that deprived of romance? I mean, I write (mostly) romance books for a living, it’s a given that I’ll be alone, but I didn’t think I’d be that sorry. I slapped myself in the face while putting on moisturizer. Just because no man has ever wanted to commit to being in a relationship with me or even take me out for lunch doesn’t mean I’m sorry and pathetic and unappealing and desperate and weird and annoying and sorry and just overall a bad catch. I mean, I’m going to lunch (dinner? Coffee?) with a super attractive guy today  (who also seems to have a good personality, that’s important of course!) A super attractive guy whose appearance I totally appropriated for my novel, and when I inevitably have to tell him about it, he won’t want to see me again for the rest of his life. I sigh, burying my face into my hands to hide from my reflection. What the hell. 

I flop onto my bed, deep conditioner in my hair. I’m wearing my specifically oversized shirt, the one I always wear when I’m deciding what to wear for an event. I love how comfortable it is (it also smells great because it just came out of the wash). It’s no use being sad about it now, right? I should properly tell Leon (the real one) what I did and then move on.The worst that could happen is he gets angry and stops me from publishing the book, reports me to the police for stalking and possible voyeurism and I get thrown in jail over something I didn’t (really) do. Even so, I’m still young. Maybe I could write a book about being in prison (people have done it before, I might become successful). For now, I’ll just take a nap until it’s time to rinse out my conditioner. 

It is way past the time to rinse out my conditioner.  My phone delightfully informs me that it’s 10 o'clock (in the morning of course). That’s not too bad.  I rinse the conditioner out of my hair, add leave-in, mouse, moisturizer, the whole shabang. I sigh (again). I don’t have the will to keep working on my book until I clear it with (the real) Leon. I couldn't help but feel helplessly ashamed. It was never a problem before, I would just steal a little bit of someone’s personality and write it into my book. I honestly didn’t do it that often either, so I was never really worried about having to talk to the people I used. It was way too early to start getting dressed, and I didn’t really have anything else on my schedule. I had three options: agonize over the inevitable until my time runs out, clean my house, OR agonize over the inevitable while cleaning the house (shut up about that painting. It’ll be done another time). I chose to kill two birds with one breakdown and began my quest of cleaning. The image of his disgusted face crosses my mind, immediately the living room is immaculate. I think about how I thought I was so smart for naming the character something ‘ComPleTely diFFereNT’ and all the laundry is folded. It’s like magic almost, how when I think about how much of a fool I’m going to make of myself tonight, my bedroom is the cleanest it’s been in months. Just like that, the clock strikes three. I should probably start getting dressed now. 

I tried on a black dress, too fancy, then a sweater and pants, too casual. Maybe I should wear a skirt? If I wore it with my sweater, I would end up looking like a schoolgirl, so I decided against it. Whilst rummaging in the depths of my closet, I found a fluffy cardigan that I’ve never worn. It even had the tag on it still. I ripped the tag off (carefully of course) and decided to throw it on over a black cotton slip dress and tennis shoes of the same color. I put on some mascara and a light brown eyeliner, adding a lip gloss with a darker brown tint. It was cute I guess. It matched my outfit. I think he liked my ponytail last time, so I made sure to have one today too, carefully brushing my bangs into place. As a finishing touch, I bore a rose gold chain with a simple pendant. It’s good, it’s pretty, and I like it. That clock also says that it’s four thirty. Oh my God, it’s four thirty. 

I had no idea how long it took to get to that cafe from my house (which is really an apartment, but I like to- we don’t have time for that spiel). Since I had only ever visited out of leisure, I never thought to check. I quickly typed the address of the place into my phone. Twenty minutes. It takes me ten minutes to get out the door, so I should make it just in time. I threw everything I thought I’d need into my purse. Lip gloss, wallet, keys, phone, pencil, pen, memo pad, if it was in my reach and it made a sliver of sense, it was put in the purse. I quickly locked the door behind me then checked the time on my phone. I’m right on schedule, so from here on out, I don’t have to worry. While walking to my doom, I felt more at ease than I had all day, like the feeling of finally getting to the firing range after weeks of the execution waitlist. Ater this, I’ll delete his number from my phone, never appear in that cafe again, and rewrite the entirety of my novel. I watched a bird deftly land on a tree branch nearby, a mourning dove, how pretty, and took the liberty to call it proof that I’m on the right track. With this newfound relief, I waltzed all the way to the door. Then the fear kicked back in. Even if you know you’re going to die, it’s still scary to face the firing range. Mustering up all the courage in my fallen and twisted stomach, I opened the door. Leon. He was here already, sitting patiently at a table (for two), facing the wall. Without checking who came in, he immediately stood and turned to beckon me over, a bit weird, but maybe he saw me before I opened the door. 

“I thought I was on time for once.” I try to calm myself by being funny (I’m not) as he pulls the chair for me to sit down (wow, gentleman alert (or maybe my standards are low)). 

“No, I'm just early. Military habit.” That tracked. I gathered all my resolve to not twirl my hair after I sat. I spent too much time on it. Instead, I just looked up and smiled. He even looks good from down here. He’s gotta be cheating somehow, that’s just not natural.

“So I guess you’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes?” He raised his eyebrows for a second, as if to communicate his answer. I guess I was right. At least something good came out of being raised in a military household (though the damage to my social skills is irreparable).

“I’ll order. Do you know what you want?” 

“Chicken panini and Chai latte, please.” I think I might have been a little too excited about the food, because he laughed at me. Not audibly or anything, but I could see it in his eyes. 

“Coming right up.”  He was suave in the way that a men’s soap model is.  It only dawned on me as he walked away, but the way Leon spoke was very smooth. It scrambled my brain. So much so that I had almost completely forgotten about the truth of this meeting, my (tentatively) first and last date. It’ll be painful for sure, but I have to set things straight. Right as I took in an exasperated sigh, a white porcelain plate was placed before me. With a chicken panini :) 

“Why the long face? Is it that horrible to be on a date with me?” His smile made me wish I could melt into a puddle. I watched him sit across from me and I knew I had to tell him. 

“No, it’s great actually. I don’t get out much. It’s not about you, I swear. Just… promise you won’t be too mad?” Even if I couldn’t melt into a puddle, my palms sure were trying to. I looked at him. He cocked his eyebrow at me while taking a sip of his coffee. He’s always drinking coffee.

“You’re scaring me, what is it?” Liar. He looked more amused than anything. It made me wonder if he was really as wholesome as he appeared when he asked for my number. Or maybe that was just my mind running off again.

“Okay. You see, I’m an author, and I’m in the process of writing a novel right now. A couple days ago I saw you at the cafe and- I was having a hard time figuring out one of the characters, okay? Well, I saw you, and I wrote the character to look like you and-” I heaved a sigh. This is the worst part. “I named him Leon. I- I really didn’t know! I just made sense with the theme and all. But then the next day you asked me out and you said that  y o u r  name was Leon, and that just made everything worse. I’m sorry, I’ll change it. I just thought it wasn’t right to start- whatever this is- without telling you.” I sighed, looking at him. He looked surprised, but not appalled, thank God. After a moment, he even laughed. A low rumbling thing that made me feel (somehow) even more embarrassed of myself. 

“You know, that’s one hell of a way to start a first date.” I laughed a little. Maybe he wouldn’t press any charges after all. 

“Yea, I know. I’ll pay you back for today. It’s totally understandable if you wanna leave.” I try not to make him any more uncomfortable than he probably already is. It only just occurred to me that he might just be good at hiding his emotions. 

“No, you don’t have to. It’s just- I don’t think I can top that. Here I was planning to butter you up with compliments, then you tell me you wrote a whole book about me? I mean, that’s something else.” I felt my shoulders relax a little. He took it as a compliment?

“You know, most people would think of that as a negative thing.” I couldn’t help but snicker a little. I even took a bite of my sandwich (panini). It was delicious, as always.

“There are things in the world that are much less pleasant than getting written about.” The way he says it makes me think that maybe he experienced one or two of those things, but now is not the time to pry.

The conversation actually went well, great even. We spoke about all sorts of things, family (he doesn't have any), food (his favorite is, get this, grilled cheese. What the hell.), hobbies (that he doesn’t have) and the like. He couldn’t speak about work (classified, he says), so instead I told him of all my creative endeavors, art, literature, music. He said it was good that I’m creative. I said it’s good that I survived it. He owns a motorcycle. Our banter continued and before we knew it, two hours had passed. 

“Is the sun setting already? What time is it?” I was in a daze. Spending time with him felt like I was intoxicated, everything was so warm and fuzzy that I could barely think anymore. I looked back at him. He seemed just as composed and sane as ever. He’s a secret agent after all, keeps his emotions in check. All I ever do is feel. 

“Seven. Do you wanna call it, or should we change locations?” I thought about it for a second. I want to spend more time with him. I mean, he’s cool and friendly, and he didn’t even flinch when I told him about the novel fiasco. 

“How about dinner? You can pick where.” I really just wanted the chance to ride his motorcycle, but let’s not talk about that too much.

“Didn’t you just eat? You wanna dry my wallet, huh?” He said that, but he was already helping me out of my chair and towards the door.

“A sandwich isn’t a meal, and I could pay if it’s really that much trouble.” I laughed. I didn’t know it before I met him, but Leon’s strange sense of humor is really right up my alley. 

“Now that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, would it?” He opened the door for me. The cold night air made me glad that I wore this sweater. I turned to face him, the streetlights accenting his face in a way that’s probably outlawed in seventeen countries. The chill in the air makes me feel alive. This night was special, for a reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on at the time.

“So, take me away to this amazing restaurant then, Mr. Gentleman.” After my (genius) little quip, I do a spin to soak up the air. I don’t notice the way he looks at me. I don’t see how he’s staring like I’m the first human being he’s seen in months. All I see are the stars above us.

“It’s a pretty small place, but the food is to die for. I hope you’re okay with outdoor restaurants?” I stop and see his face again. His eyes look like pretty blue stars. 

“Long as the food’s worth.” Just as he’s about to lead me away, he makes a face like he forgot something, then turns to me.

“Are you okay with riding my bike there? It’s a little further than walking distance.” I give him a slight nod.

“We’ll see.” 

[copiaslilrat]

Riding in the Shadows Behind You: Chapter 2

Sibling Eros and Copia form a pact and Copia reveals just how much of a romantic he can be. More blood is drank, and horniness ensures. Nobody seems to know how big Copia's dick is, but Eros has a pretty good idea.

Read here or on AO3 | Read Chapter 1 here or on AO3, as well.

Content: Copia/Dracopia x Original NB Character, fluff and smut (18+), vampires, watch two awkward idiots slowly fall in love and fuck about it, literally nothing bad happens /gen, no plot all vibes

Eros wakes up the next morning feeling as though they have the mother of all hangovers. They blink several times to clear the blurry haze from their eyes and realize that they are in an unfamiliar bedroom. Sunlight streams in through a crack in the blackout curtains, which are otherwise drawn entirely shut.

When they hear Copia humming softly in the next room over, the events of last night come tumbling back with visceral clarity. They make an attempt to stand, succeed, but then take two steps and fall flat on their face as their legs give out beneath them.

Copia huries into the bedroom at the sudden nose and makes a soft sound of surprise when he sees them laying on the floor. He helps them to their feet and guides them back to his spacious bed. “Maybe do not try to do that, for now.”

Eros nods in whole-hearted agreement. Copia leaves the room and returns a moment later with a large glass of water that Eros funnels down within seconds.

Copia chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his head. “I apologize for last night. I seemed to have gotten carried away.”

Eros shakes their head and immediately regrets the sharp movement. “No need to apologize, Cardinal. I was the one who asked for more.”

He offers a sheepish smile and sits down on the bed at their feet. He is dressed more casually today, in red sweatpants and matching zip-up hoodie with a black shirt underneath. “Please call me Copia. I think that formalities might a bit unnecessary after last night, hm?”

“Copia,” Eros repeats. They find that they like the sound and feel of it rolling off of their tongue and are wholly unsure of what to think about that.

He nods. “I know last night was, eh, last night , but I enjoyed myself up until the part where you went unconscious. I hope you did too. I think you are quite lovely, Eros,” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I would very much like to call upon you again the next time that I need to feed, if you are willing.”

Eros blushes at the offer. They recall the look in his eyes when he said he liked the way they tasted, the feel of his hips grinding against theirs, and just the general intense pleasure of it all. “I am very much willing, yes.” Trying not to sound over-eager in their new, tentative relationship, they follow up with, “How often do you need to feed?”

“Ideally, every few days or so, but I usually go longer without it on account of the guilt.” His mismatched gaze meets theirs, and Eros notes the sadness behind his eyes. “Nobody has ever been willing before.”

They lean forward slightly and take his hand in theirs. “Trust me when I say that you can feed from me whenever you need to. I am more than happy to oblige.”

Copia’s expression brightens. He gives their hand a gentle squeeze. “That means a lot to me. Grazie , Eros."

Days pass in what feels like agonizing torture as Eros waits for Copia to seek them out. Many times, while alone at night, they have considered many times the prospect of showing up at his chambers and throwing themself at him just to experience what they had the other night again.

They return to their dormitory late one night after doing more research for Papa Terzo in the library to find a note slipped under the door.

“When you read this, come find me in the chapel. I will be waiting for you. -C”

Eros’ heart hitches in their chest. Like a star-crossed lover receiving a letter from their sweetheart, they lift the letter to their face and inhale. It smells like paper and ink. They aren’t sure why they should have expected anything otherwise, but a small part them was hoping it smelled like Copia.

They discard their cassock and don their classic tank top and trousers combination. They readjust their hair and touch up their eye makeup as if it’s not going to get messed up again when Copia feeds from them anyway. The chapel is an interesting venue to choose to do this in—it’s not nearly as private as his chambers, but maybe he felt weird having someone who is effectively a stranger in his personal space.

As satisfied with their appearance as they can be, they make a small hum at their reflection in the mirror on their vanity and exit the Sibling dormitory area.

The chapel is located directly behind the abbey. It’s a gorgeous old building that’s been around since before even the abbey was built. Nobody knows exactly how old the Satanic Ministry is, but the general consensus is that the organization is very, very, very old.

Eros pushes open the old, creaky doors. Carved into the wood is a large, intricate scene depicting Lucifer reigning over his demons in Hell. The chapel does not rely on modern electricity aside from a giant chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. The rest of the lighting relies on the sun and the moon and what must be thousands of candles that stay perpetually lit thanks to a bit of magic. The moon is obscured behind clouds tonight, so the chapel is filled with soft, warm light. Incense smoke hangs thick in the air, mingling with the smell of old but well-kept wood.

Eros walks down the long aisleway to where they can see Copia’s figure knelt before an altar of Baphomet. Their footfalls are silent on the runner rug that runs the length from doors to the altar, but Copia looks over his shoulder as he hears their approach anyway.

“ Buona notte , Eros.” He greets with a soft, nervous smile. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“Hey, I benefit as much from this as you do. I think.” They reciprocate his smile. “Besides, I’ve had a few days to recover from last time. But maybe we should avoid making me pass out again. I’d hate for you to have to carry me back to the abbey.”

There’s a certain confidence to his gait that Eros hasn’t seen before as his lithe form stalks towards them. They find it quite unfair that a man his age has such spectacular thighs, accented only by pants so tight that they look painted on. “Do not worry. I think I have a better understanding of what your body can withstand now.”

“Can I ask why you wanted to meet me here this time?”

Eros’s already-racing heart practically leaps out of their chest when Copia reaches out and ghosts a gloved hand across their cheek. “Ambiance, caro .”

The only response they can muster is a soft, surprised whimper. His hand slides to their chin and gently pulls their face towards his until their noses brush together.

“I didn’t know that you were interested in me like this,” Eros whispers.

“I have seen you around the abbey before, and you have always caught my eye. Only a fool would not find you handsome.”

Their face flushes. “You flatter me, Copia, but I’m nothing special.”

His expression darkens at their self-deprecation. His mouth moves infinitesimally closer to theirs, his hand still cupping their chin. “ Caro , you are anything but.”

The tension between them pulls taut, threatening to snap at the smallest movement. The warm candlelight accents the peaks and planes of Copia’s face, darkness obscuring the rest. He looks like a figure from a Renaissance painting, rendered in chiaroscuro by a master artist. The chapel is completely silent aside from the sounds of their soft, steady breathing.

“May I kiss you, Eros?” Copia asks.

Eros could fuck him right there just for having the courtesy to even ask. Their voice is breathy, hardly a whisper. “Yes.”

He closes the small gap between their mouths, capturing their lips in a soft, gentle kiss before pulling back slightly. “Was that okay?”

Eros responds by pressing their mouth against his, firmer this time, to which Copia responds by inhaling deeply as his reciprocates. His hands slide to Eros’ waist, resting on the curve of their hips as their arms wrap around his neck. They kiss, slowly and deeply for several moments, before Copia starts to back them up against the altar.

“I need taste you again, caro ,” Copia purrs against their lips before dropping a line of rough kisses along their jaw and down to the pulse point on their neck. He hisses softly as he feels their heartbeat through the delicate flesh. “ P er favore...y ou are so tempting..."

Eros sighs softly, already dazed with lust just at the thought of being fed from. They incline their neck to give him easier access. “Please, Copia…” Just like last time, there’s a brief moment of pain, but the feeling is quickly overtaken by pleasure as Copia starts to pull blood from their neck. “Oh, fuck. ”

Copia presses up tightly against them, forcing their bodies flush. Eros curses the layers of clothes between them, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his skin on theirs. Copia drinks hungrily, his tongue occasionally swiping against their neck, not wanting to waste a single drop of them, each flicker sending a fresh shudder through their body.

Eros is completely soaked through after just a few moments, and Copia is similarly turned on, his cock occasionally kicking inside of his pants, begging to be freed and buried deep inside of them. Eros considers the idea of insitgating something sexual, but decides against it although the tiny, horny voice in the back of their head says that they should do otherwise. Copia’s hand slides down and between their thighs, but his grip stays firm on the soft flesh while his other hand cradles their head for support.

After what feels like too much time and also not nearly long enough, Copia removes his fangs from their neck. He licks a stripe over the wound, sealing it closed to hide the marks and to prevent blood from trickling onto their clothes, before planting a few soft kisses over it. He tilts his head upright and cups Eros’ head in his hands so that he can gaze into their eyes.

“Ta-da…” he murmurs with a small, satisfied smile. His pupils are still blown wide with bloodlust.

Eros laughs softly, only slightly dizzy from the lust and blood loss, and plants a lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of tasting their blood on his lips is foreign, but it’s far from the weirdest thing they’ve had in their mouth in this abbey. The unresolved lust gradually dissipates from their bodies as they hold each other; they are simply enjoying the close proximity after sharing such an intense moment.

“How do you feel, caro ?” Copia asks softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on their cheek.

“Good. Better than good. Amazing, really.”

Copia smiles at this. “I am glad to hear that.” After a beat, he gives them a sudden thoughtful look. “I do recognize that these meetings have been about satisfying my needs, and I would be lying if I said I did not feel a sense of guilt over it. Is there anything at all that I can offer you in exchange?”

Their face flushes as endless possibilities run through their mind, but they decide to take it slow so as not to startle either of them. “If you’re interested, maybe we could…spend some time together? Outside of this?” Copia’s eyebrows raise at their suggestion. “But, uh, only if you want to.”

He flashes them a wide smile, and they notice a very apparent lack of fangs. Maybe they only come out when he needs to feed. They make a note to ask him at a later time. “ Va bene. I would very much enjoy getting to get to know you better, Eros.” Copia plants a tender kiss on their forehead. “But for more, I am sure you are tired. May I walk you back to your room?”

Two of Eros’ Siblings are seated in the common room when Copia drops Eros off. While there are no restrictions about Ministry staff can do with each other, Eros still feels flustered at the sight of being seen this late at night with Copia. He seems just as nervous, tense at their side. 

“Eh, buona notte, sorelli ,” Copia offers.

The Siblings greet him in return with varying degrees of enthusiasm, their eyes flickering curiously between him and Eros. Copia gives Eros a friendly pat on the shoulder—an incongruous gesture compared to what they had been doing not even a half hour ago—and they laugh inwardly as their attempt to be inconspicuous is anything but that.

“Goodnight, Cardinal. Thank you for seeing me back to my room,” Eros says with an air of formality, but tries to communicate something softer with their eyes.

Copia seems to recieve the message. His gaze is soft in return as he offers a polite nod. “ Buona notte , Sibling Eros.”

When Copia leaves, Eros immediately beelines for their room, but one of their Sisters, Harlowe, catches their attention. “Uh, what was that?”

They swear under their breath and turn around to face her with a clipped smile. They and Harlowe are on good terms, but they wouldn’t consider her a friend. She’s short and slender and has a majestic, blacklight purple mane of curls. During they day she dons a Satanic Ministry nun’s habit, but at night she always wears a cropped tank top and impossibly comfortable-looking sweatpants.

“What do you mean?” Eros asks, feigning ignorance.

“You and the Cardinal, huh?” She presses with a knowing smile and leans forward on the floor cushion she’s seated on. “There’s no way something’s not going on with you two.”

Is there something going on between them? Eros has no idea. They’ve only been alone twice for a short amount of time, but the strange intimacy of their encounters probably counts for something. “He needed help with ritual prep in the chapel.”

Harlowe narrows her eyes suspiciously before sharing a glance two other Siblings in the room. “Alright, but if you start fucking, you’re going to have to spill the deets. We’ve always wanted to know if the Cardinal’s packing.”

Eros is surprised that she doesn’t know. They’ve personally never seen any of the Papas’ dicks before, but they’ve heard enough tales of sexual encounters from other Siblings that they could probably draw them from memory if someone asked. “Surely somebody knows?”

Harlowe shakes her head. “Cardinal Copia doesn’t sleep around much. I’m not surprised, given how introverted he is. I suppose that’s why you two seem to get along so well.”

“I, uh…yeah.” Eros replies, feeling rather lame about it.

“You’re looking a little pale, Eros. Are you alright?” Sibling Rosaleth asks either out of genuine concern or as a way to give them an out of this conversation, and Eros is grateful for either.

I suppose that I would be, on account of the major blood loss. “Just a little tired, I think. I’m gonna go to sleep.”

Satisfied with that answer, they bid their Siblings goodnight and strip down to their underwear. Laying in bed in the dark, the dregs of unresolved lust start to build in their core again. They readjust several times, trying to get comfortable while debating if it’s appropriate to touch themself to the thought of someone they’ve only met twice.

In the end, they decide that sleep will not be happening without some sort of release, and so their fingers get to work. The normal methods don’t seem to be working, so they swallow their doubt and a small amount of their pride as they let their mind fantasize about Copia. They know exactly what’s in his pants from the couple of times they’ve felt it press up against them, and while he may not be as lascivious as the Papas, they have no doubt that he knows how to use it. They imagine his gloved thumb on their clit as he fucks them slowly and deeply, his low voice purring sweet nothings into their ear, calling them a good boy…

They finish within seconds, clapping their free hand over their mouth to muffle their uncharacteristically loud cries of pleasure as they ride out the waves of their orgasm on their own fingers.

Ah, fuck.

[cptn-m]

One Piece chapter 1102 review

This unseasonably cold and wet Christmas morning, Oda gifts us with yet another heartbreaker of a flashback chapter to close out the year, but also a promise of a return to the present, and maybe some clues about what will happen when we get there. It's a more relaxed easing into the present than I'd expected - I've been predicting for weeks there'd be one last secret tragedy as a stinger to close things out, and maybe the self-destruct switch would qualify, but maybe I should just be happy that Kuma isn't being made to suffer more.

We pick up where the last chapter left off with Bonney on her adventure. I have to say, this is the most I've liked her character up to this point. She's never been unlikable, but the spirit of getting out there and adventuring and seeing the world while hunting for her lost dad really comes through now that we have the full story. The childlike quality of her ideas of piracy and ways of compromising them echoes Luffy's own energy. She feels like the main character of her own story here, one with enough substance that it'd be enjoyable even removed from the wider context of One Piece. The vibe of her crew is infectious, and I'm happy to see them living their best lives out in the world. Uh, hope those guys are alright after the encounters with Blackbeard and Sakazuki before the timeskip…

I'm looking forward to paying more attention to Bonney with also info on hand on my next reread.

There was a theory I read a few chapters ago that suggested Bonney's bounty shot up to Supernova levels because of the need to get her back to control Kuma. This chapter instead suggests a misconception that her crew targets children and the elderly because of her power. Which is funny, but far less interesting. I think I would have liked this more if we'd learned is much sooner. Like in her original introduction she's talked up as a ruthless attacker of the vulnerable, and it leads toward the first reveal of her Devil Fruit and the joke lands that way. Maybe an idea for The One Piece, right? That's just going to be my go to for anything that might have worked better with earlier setup now. It's fine though. We can even still assume that control of Kuma remained a factor for the World Government behind the scenes while also satisfying all the bad PR she has for leaving injured children and old people in her wake.

The bits with Luffy, Dragon, Smoker, Ace and Jinbei are partly fanservice, but they do also serve to keep the timeline in check. They're synchronising moments. The translation of Sabo's line in the scans indicated that Dragon was going to Loguetown alone, which would have killed the theory that Sabo had been spotted in the crowd there (pictured below), but the official release makes it ambiguous enough that Sabo might have gone. To be honest I was never big on that theory, even if it would make things more interconnected and foreshadowed. I figure seeing Luffy that close, particularly his apparent execution, would have triggered Sabo's memories returning.

I'm a little disappointed that the return to the Thriller Bark doesn't give us anything new about Kuma's actual intentions should Luffy's allies have failed what now know to obviously have been a test. Seriously, was the plan to zip him off to Dragon, or just let him go and tell him he needs to find better friends, or given the previous scene with Vegapunk, would it just said to Kuma that Luffy didn't really have the Nika qualities he'd thought.

But that brings me to something I do like about the montage of Kuma learning about Luffy's life in the chapter. The rubber power is acknowledged, but only as a footnote. Even having seen a power that matches the myth, Nika can only be assumed to be a myth. Luffy's actions - declaring war on the World Government, earning the loyalty of the Thriller Bark victims, assaulting the unjust rulers of the world to save a single enslaved friend - are what make him stand out to Kuma. And while I'm sure we'll see something specific to Luffy, such as the D, the voice of all things, or yes, the fruit, become important to the plot eventually, but it's good that Oda is laying a foundation now that Luffy acts like Nika just by being himself, regardless of whatever other ways he's been made into the legendary figure by the narrative.

The next scene gives us two possible paths for things playing out in the present. The first is Kuma's self-destruct mechanism. Given that I've already put money down on Kuma's death, my immediate thought about this development is that it will be used to fight Saturn in a tragic heroic sacrifice. How ironic for Saturn to be destroyed by the mechanism he insisted Vegapunk install.

(But why wasn't it activated sooner, like when Kuma was rescued by the Revolutionaries, to keep them from reverse engineering his tech, or when he was rampaging in Marie Geoise? You have to assume there's a limited number of remotes for the thing, since the Celestial Dragons who've been using him can't be trusted with their impulses, and/or a limited range on the activation symbol.)

But the other curious thing is Vegapunk suggsting a personality switch. Which is odd, considering how impossible a reversion was said to be in previous chapters. And if Saturn really could detect it so reliably and keep it from being installed, why mention it in the first place? This feels like Oda giving himself an out - a way to save Kuma at the last moment just by saying 'oh, Vegapunk found a way to conceal it after all.' Which would be lame. The only way I'll accept this thing's use in the present is in tandem with the self-destruct so Kuma can go out as himself, and maybe exchange some words with Saturn on the way out.

And it's especially weird when you put it next to the revelation that viewing Kuma's extracted memories will consume them, taking off the board popular theories that Kuma would be restored by passing the bubble on to him. In one chapter, Kuma is twice doomed, once saved. Anyone's guess which way Oda will take it in the present.

The final sequence is the cherry on top of a fantastic One Piece flashback, one that will certainly be remembered as one of Oda's best. The life affirming message rings true to the broader themes of the series, bringing to mind scenes like Tom and Ace's deaths. Even the lab assistants are moved (oof, didn't Saturn order these guys' escape ship sunk? That's rougher knowing they were all on team Kuma all along), as the montage of Kuma's life and loved ones proves Vegapunk correct in calling Kuma a hero. And even in his final moments Kuma thinks first of his daughter. Beautiful stuff.

This is also very strongly framed like a death scene. It's not hard evidence, but I'm taking it as half a point toward Kuma's mind being unrecoverable and/or his destruction assured in the present.

And the flashback really does seem to be over. Never in the series' past have we cut from black panel gutters at the end of one chapter to the normal white ones in the first page of the next one. There's always a transitional page within the chapter, be it at the start or at the end. (At least for the full, multi-chapter flashbacks, I think one of the small, segmented Zou ones went straight from black to white over a chapter break.) I'm not sure where the fade to grey on the last page here leaves us. It's not quite the present, but with only a day left to cover, I can't imagine there being anything else worth showing. Maybe Bonney's view of the offscreen battle with York? A shorthand version only, though.

Either way, it's been a hell of a year for One Piece, and with Egghead's momentum going into its climax, I think the next one could be even better.

[prinzrupprecht]

To Live or Die

Chapter 7 - an old friend

If anyone knows who Ryoma Sakamoto is, he was an influential figure apart of Tosa’s domain. When he died in real life, Kondo was accused of assassinating him so he was executed after surrendering to the new government on that charge. So the story here changes, Ryoma is alive which is why Kondo is alive.

If you’re new here, click on synopsis and see all the chapters linked.

Synopsis

No warnings.

WC: 1122

You had listened to Kondo’s side from the aftermath of the war. It turns out that Souji went to surrender alongside Kondo and both of them were spared. However, Kondo took more punishment and had been under house arrest as Souji said previously.

“Well, that wasn’t all of it…” Kondo sighed as he sipped on his tea.

“Ryoma Sakamoto… had told the new officials that were a part of the reformed government to spare our lives. For whatever reason that may be… I don’t know it.” That man was alive?! You were a bit upset deep down how Souji was willing to die with Kondo but they were spared out of luck. They could’ve had harsher punishments but seems like everything was solved in the end.

“Where is Nagakura-san and Saitou?” You had remembered they weren’t listed among the fallen. Kondo leaned back a bit and the silence engulfed you three.

“I haven’t spoken to Saitou-san since the war ended. I saw Nagakura-san but it was brief and he was doing fine himself.” You were happy to hear about Nagakura doing well. You wondered what Saitou was up to and it brought you sadness thinking how he just moved on.

That night after you three talked about your lives after the war, you had gone to sleep back in your original room. The closet was empty but your room was still nostalgic. You frowned, it still doesn’t seem the same. You wanted to talk to Souji more but you couldn’t form any words.

You saw a familiar notepad inside one of the drawers in the closet. You didn’t remember owning one or keeping one around. You skimmed the pages but nothing really important except for one thing. Well, one name you hadn’t seen or mentioned in years.

Hana Kusuo

The woman who abandoned you as a baby... Yet, there was an address written down below. You've been told she was dead. However, you've never been told what the cause of her death was. Were you lied to? By Kondo? Your uncle? Maybe Souji wasn’t aware of this as you hoped not.

You barely slept that night.

The next morning felt like hell. You didn’t want to meet your mother. She abandoned you, right? Why should you care?

You ate with Kondo and Souji in silence while hiding the fact that you knew about the notepad. “I have to head into town and to the office for a few hours, will you be fine by yourself? Souji are you staying or coming?” Kondo asked him.

“I can stay here unless you need me to come with you.” He relaxed his shoulders and something in you had hoped he would leave with Kondo. But why?

“I’ll be back soon,” Kondo nodded and left the former training hall where you guys were residing. You watched him leave and sat on the porch with one knee brought up to your chest. There were no more cats nearby to pet, unfortunately.

You turned to Souji, “what will you do?” you sounded annoyed but not in that way. You wanted to go into town and see what’s new without him worrying if you’ll get attacked again.

“How about we go somewhere?” he was acting innocent as one hand scratched the back of his head. So he had the same thoughts as you. Well, not exactly… you wanted to be alone but this would have to do.

“Sure, it must get boring around here without sword practicing right? You should convince Kondo to turn the Shieikan into a kendo dojo and make some more money on the side.” You turned to him and he was confused about what you meant but he caught on.

“Oh… I don’t know, we haven’t really thought about it.” You and him walked outside towards the street watching a few kids playing not far from you two. You could tell he wasn’t being fully truthful. They literally live in a dojo and haven’t thought of turning it back into one?

“You would be a good instructor with your skills. After all, you were the first division captain of the Shinsengumi.” You held your head high while praising him in the past. Pretty good instructor? He knew how to lead a unit, that was a given considering he led the first division and helped train some of the men.

He was happy that you were turning back to your old self. Maybe this was a good idea to get you out a bit. He missed this side of you. You defended him many times even when he wasn’t liked by the townsfolk for being a demon child, you gave them hell for his sake.

“Oh this shop is the same!” you ran over to the front of the wooden lodge. Souji’s eyes widened by how excited you suddenly got when you saw the flower shop. He remembered how you always went there and bought pots of flowers and plants for the outside of the dojo.

He watched as you conversed with the same old lady who owned the shop for many years.

You found the shop mostly the same. The owner had gotten new plants you hadn’t seen before. Your curiosity blew over your head but then you forgot Souji was waiting for you. “I’ll see you again, and I’ll make sure I buy something next time!” you rushed out before she could say something.

You thought Souji was waiting for you but he wasn’t out front or anywhere in sight. You shrugged, maybe this was a perfect opportunity to look around and see what has changed.

The streets were busy, and you found one of the trader merchant shops not far down the road of Ichigaya. Many foreigners stop by to do business there. Seriously was a busy day… some drunk just was previously thrown out by a bulky guy. You heard some people shouting inside and decided it wasn’t worth getting into another incident.

You finally found what you were looking for. The medicine shop, or ward whatever it was. The travel seemed a bit farther than what you had planned and Souji disappeared. “Oh!” The front lady saw you enter and almost leapt over the table.

“Sorry everything is a mess,” the place did look disorganized. You have known her since the Shieikan days. She was in her mid-thirties and while you were acquainted with her, she was Hijikata Shuu, the older sister of Toshizo.

“Oh, Shuu… you nearly forgotten about me.” Shuu’s face turned blank and expressionless for a moment while she took in who you were.

“It’s been forever! Wow, you changed a lot,” her face lit up as she said your name and enveloped you in a hug.

You two were going to catch up for a bit…

Proceed to the next part

➤ Chapter 8

Note: there will be some surprise next chapter! May take a day break now.

[ritualoftheancients]

Ritual of the Ancients Chapter 13: Negotiations

by Roan Rosser

This is a chapter of a complete vampire novel with a trans-masc main character and a gay romance subplot. New Chapters are posted every Sunday. If you like the novel and want to support the author, ebook and paperback copies can be purchased here.

*****

The night air whistled in through the broken back window as I drove aimlessly around northern Portland, trying to think. No use visiting Kevin’s partner now; he wouldn’t know anything more than Kevin had, besides the fact that Kevin had probably called to warn him by now. Dave and Stacy were hopefully checking up on the Polly angle, which left me out of clues.

Stopped at a red light, I pounded the steering wheel in frustration. It cracked under my fists. I winced, and added it to the long-and-growing-longer list of things I owed Jack.

Maybe I should have gone with Kevin to see Lady Ann. Then I snorted at the preposterousness of that, since I now suspected she was behind the attacks on me. She’d have just killed me and taken the amulet off my corpse. And it was mine.

Thinking about my next move made me glance at the dashboard to check the tank. I winced. Less than a quarter tank left. I thought about where I could find an open gas station, when I remembered my missing wallet. Shit. With no money to fill the tank, I had to hoard what I had left.

As I drove north on MLK, I spotted a closed grocery store on my right with an empty parking lot. I pulled over and parked to give myself time to think. Where should I go with the last bit of my gas?

I didn’t want to leave the car alone with a broken window, so instead I just leaned the driver’s side seat back and relaxed, trying to think. I felt so helpless. Jack could be hurt—or, or worse. I scrubbed tears from my eyes with my sleeve. No, I refused to believe Jack was dead. Jack was resourceful, and knew how to take care of himself. Still, my mind kept circling back to worst-case scenarios.

To distract myself from thinking anymore about Jack, I pulled out the amulet and examined it again. The hieroglyphs that circled the portrait in the center were too worn down to make out without my tools back at the museum. There were two broken-off areas on either side that made me think that it had originally been part of a necklace or other piece of jewelry. There was nothing special about it at first glance, or second for that matter. If it hadn’t been for the way it had absorbed blood from my clothes, I would have said there was nothing out of the ordinary about it at all. Just another piece of jewelry looted from an Egyptian tomb.

I was still staring at it when the burner cell in my pocket began jingling with an incoming call. Only two people had this number, and I couldn’t see Dave calling me back voluntarily. I sat up and about dropped the phone in my eagerness to answer.

“Are you okay?” I gasped.

A low chuckle greeted me. “Oh, I will be soon, Everett,” a woman purred.

I froze, the phone pressed to my ear. “Who is this? Where’s Jack?”

“Now, now, not so fast, darling. Haven’t you ever heard of small talk?” The woman tisked. “But no matter. I suppose it is best to get right down to business, as they say. I am a busy woman, after all.”

My stomach sunk, and I felt sick as I realized who I was speaking to. “Lady Ann. Is Jack…”

“Jack’s fine. I propose a trade. Tit for tat, you know.”

“Let me talk to him.” I tried to keep my voice firm and even, but it still cracked at the end. I couldn’t believe I was challenging a mob boss, even over the phone. My hands shook, and I was very glad that she couldn’t see me.

“Proof of life for proof that you actually have my amulet in your possession,” she responded coldly. I imagined her examining her perfectly manicured nails as she spoke, even though in reality I had no idea if she was the kind of person who even bothered with manicures. I’d never met her before. She worked through intermediaries.

“Fine. I’ll text a photo to you at this number,” I snapped. “You do the same, then call me back.”

“Agreed, but I want a selfie with you in the picture.” She sounded almost bored. The line went dead.

I lowered the phone and groaned, putting my head in my hands. This was a terrible idea. Even with my minimal knowledge of technology, I knew she could get my location from the metadata on any photo I sent her, while I’d learn nothing in exchange. Other than the fact that Jack was alive, a little voice said inside me. That wasn’t nothing.

I held the amulet up next to my face and snapped a quick selfie, but I hesitated with my finger over the send button. No. I’d wait for her to send proof that Jack lived first. I sat staring at the phone, waiting impatiently.

After ten minutes and no response, I sent Jack’s phone a text message.

“Proof of life first, then I’ll send mine.”

This cheap phone didn’t let you know when the other party was typing, but after a moment it did check the message to show it had been read. So she’d seen it.

While I waited for a response, I got out of the car and walked around the mostly empty parking lot, trying to use up some of my restless energy. I wandered up to the dark storefront. I was walking back and forth along the front, staring at my phone, when a car came screeching around the corner onto MLK and opened fire on the parking lot.

The first bullets hit Jack’s car in a spray of broken glass. I froze at first, staring in shock at the man hanging out the window of the SUV holding a machine gun. The hail of bullets cracking across the concrete towards me snapped me out of my stupor. I turned and ran for the side of the building, fumbling at my jacket pocket for the gun I’d taken from Kevin.

As I ran my phone began ringing, the default ring tone cheerfully pinging in between the pops of gunfire. Without thinking about it, I pressed answer and lifted the phone to my ear. The bullets were getting closer; I could hear them cracking into the pavement at my heels, so I used vampire speed.

“Hello?” I said into the phone. Air whistled by as I ran. “Sorry, I’m a little busy right now.” I struggled to get the gun out of my pocket as I ran, ripping my pocket in the process. As I fumbled with the strap of the holster, I accidentally dropped the gun. At the speed I was going it hit hard, bounced, and skittered away along the asphalt. I left it and kept running. Not like I knew how to use it anyway.

“Is,” the person on the phone said, each letter drawn out. It was like the person on the other end was talking in slow motion. I didn’t recognize the voice over the roaring of the air and the gunfire, but it was a guy. In my haste, I hadn’t looked at the caller ID before answering. I needed to start thinking more about what I was doing.

“That.”

I ran past the end of the building towards the loading docks. I made a sharp turn to run along the back of the building, my tennis shoes sliding several feet before finding purchase. The gunfire was fading behind me, and I could hear the speaker more clearly now. I was starting to get thirsty, so I concentrated on slowing down again.

“Gunfire?” the person finally finished his sentence by the time I was a block away, the last word speeding up to normal speech by the last syllable.

“Yeah, but it’s fine now. Who is this?” I said, jogging down a back alley. The shooters had to have known they’d missed, and would most likely be driving around, looking for me.

“Everett?” Jack’s concerned voice came over the line. I recognized his voice now that it was quiet. Tears of relief rolled down my cheeks. “Someone’s shooting at you? Are you hurt?”

I wiped my face dry, glad Jack couldn’t see me. “No, I’m fine, but I don’t know for how long. I’m hiding, but I don’t know where to go,” I whispered. The light was gone, but I could hear a car’s engine circling the block. It could have been normal night traffic, or it could have been the shooters.

“Shit. Tell me what happened.” Jack sounded sincere, but… Could he be working with the people trying to kill me? I didn’t want to consider the possibility, but I had to.

“Jack, how’d Lady Ann get your phone?” I asked quietly, ducking my head around the edge of the doorway to check that it was clear.

“She took it off me when I was captured by her thugs. What happened? Did she text you pretending to be me?” Jack sounded worried.

It was clear, so I sprinted out of the doorway and down the alley to the corner. Which way to go? I was back on MLK; I recognized the center planting area that separated the north and southbound lanes. “No, she called me from your phone, trying to negotiate a trade for you. What happened last night? When you didn’t make it back I was so worried.”

“Shit.” Jack said a few more choice swear words. “She was lying. I escaped from her thugs over an hour ago. She must have panicked, and tried to get you to give her whatever it was she wanted from you before you found out I escaped. Let’s get you to safety, then I’ll tell you the whole story. Are you on foot? I don’t hear a car.”

“Yeah, on foot.” There was sparse traffic going by in both directions. I didn’t see a black SUV like the one the shooters had been driving. I tried to think. For now I wanted—no, needed to trust that Jack was being truthful.

“Is there a car or any way for you to get away quickly?”

“Your car is parked nearby; I think it still might be drivable.” The bullets had looked like they all hit the sides and trunk, but it had been hard to tell from where I’d been. I headed back towards Jack’s car since I didn’t have any better ideas.

“Might still be drivable?” Jack repeated in disbelief, followed by a deep sigh. “Not important right now. Focus on getting out of there safely.”

The bad news was that Jack’s car was riddled with bullet holes, all the windows were broken, and the windshield was cracked. The good news was that now I wouldn’t have to confess about accidentally shooting out the window when I’d fed on Kevin.

I propped the phone against my shoulder to free my hands, pried the door open, and stuck the key in the ignition. The car turned over and to my surprise, actually started. “It still works. Where should I go?”

There was a muffled conversation in the background, and then Jack came back on the line. “Meet us at the 7-11 at the south end of St. John’s. And throw your phone away before you leave. Dave says that she probably found you by tracking it.

“Who’s us?” I asked suspiciously, trying to keep it from my voice. I wanted to trust Jack, but it was hard.

“Stacy’s driving. She’s going to take us somewhere safe. Now go, before they come back.”

“Got it.” I hung up the phone and threw it out the window before putting the car into drive and roaring away. Wind stung my eyes through the huge crack in the broken front windshield, but I squinted and dealt with it.

[themermaidsdragon]

Guilty even though Innocent

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-ConUnderage, Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)Original Male Character(s), Dubious Consent, Pain, Sadism, Masochism, BDSM, Rough Sex, Voyeurism, Teacher-Student Relationship, Rape, Crucio | Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), plus size character

Summary:

After waking up from a dream she thought was real, she couldn't bring herself to go to potions class. Getting caught by her new professor going back to her room, she is forced to go to detention for skipping class, but this is no ordinary detention...

Notes:

This is the second chapter to this series for Daisy and Perseus. Things will continue to get even more questionable on morality as chapters continue each week. Is Perseus bad or just a straight villain? You choose. Thanks for reading again :)

Chapter 2: A Detention well Deserved?

Daisy wakes up completely in a daze. One of those deep sleeps where you wonder where you are, and what time it is for a moment. Did yesterday really happen? Me…and Perseus. Oh my god! Oh my God! Why am I not in pain? I should be in pain. Daisy gets up to looks in front of the giant standing mirror in her room. She lifts up her shirt to check her stomach. Her hand rubs where he hit her last night, but nothing is there. Wait, was I dreaming? Did I have a premonition? Daisy walks backwards a bit to sit on the edge of the bed. Fuck… Is it bad I wish it had been? Maybe it would have finally given me relief for what I did. That I tried to make up for it……..oh god but it's not real. That means I just had a premonition of fucking Perseus. Oh god and I have his class today!! No! NO!.....I'm not going. I'm going to skip it...Ya! skip it. It's not like he is going to care. He hates me anyway. He will be happy I did.

Daisy went to the rest of her classes though. Though it was hard to study with everything on her mind. Am I ever going to move past his fathers death? I should by now. Everyone else has. Even his other brothers. Ughhhhh but Perseus is such an ass, so clearly, he can't let it go which makes it even harder for me even though it's my fault. Ya, right, it is my fault. He shouldn’t let it go. It is his father. Daisy finished going to all her classes, although she retained nothing she did still go at least. By the time dinner came around though her stomach was in knots thinking about everything, that she didn’t even want to eat.

"Daisy! Over here!" Adelia waves for Daisy to sit with her and the rest of her friend group.

Daisy holds her stomach. "Sorry, not feeling super good. I think I'm just going to our room to rest.”

"Oh okay! Feel better!

Daisy walked out of the dinner hall and as she turned to go to the Hufflepuff common room she can see Perseus walking down the hall. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He didn’t see me, I'm sure. I'll just walk the other way and it will be fine.

"Daisy." Perseus says from behind.

Fuck.

Daisy turns around and he walks up to her.

"You didn’t come to class today."

“Ya, ya. I was sick."

"You came to all your other classes I heard. So, try again."

"Ya…I got nothing.''

"Thought so, detention, tomorrow night."

Daisy puts her head down in defeat. "Okay."

Perseus walks away. God dammit. Maybe he doesn’t run detention. It will be fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Next day at night~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Okay, okay I'm sure it will be fiiine. I will sit there for a couple hours, and it will be over. Maybe I'll study since I didn’t catch up on shit yesterday. Or maybe if he is there, there might be someone in there I know so he leaves me alone.

Daisy dragged her feet to detention… entering the room she saw that no one else was in there, seriously? No one else got in trouble today. Just her? She huffed and looked to see that the person who would be presiding over detention today was none other than Perseus Malfoy. Gulping she sat down in the very back of the class as far away as possible.

Perseus looked up from the papers he was grading and smirked “Think you can get away with skipping my potions class huh? Well, I can assure you by the end of this detention you will certainly know better than to try that ever again” he said all too menacingly.

Daisy gulped and looked down “I…. I’m sorry professor Malfoy” she said softly.

He tutted slightly and sat up in his chair “Come up here miss Walsh, so I can give you your punishment.”

Daisy immediately stood up and walked over to him not wanting to make him angry “What do you need me to do professor?” she asked in a quivering voice.

Licking his lips, he stood up and cupped her cheek, his thumb gently caressing it. Daisy’s cheeks flushed red, and her eyes widened in shock at his tender touch, she almost relaxed until his hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head grabbing a fistful of her auburn locks and pulling her hair forcing her head back making her cry out in pain “You can start by calling me master” he growled and began to unbutton her top. Daisy tried to struggle against him but remembered her dream… he was hurting, and it was her fault… if she did as he asked, maybe then she could find peace by giving him pleasure.

“Please Master” she whispered, placing her hands on his chest, she felt his grip on her hair loosen and she looked at him with tears spilling down her cheeks “Punish me…”

Perseus smiled, it was delicious just how easily she submitted to him, sitting back in his chair and rested his head in his hand “undress for me” he ordered, and Daisy did as told, her hands shook as she unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way and took off her skirt leaving her only in her pink lace bra and panties as well as her white stockings.

“Look at you, you have such an innocent face yet such a slutty body…so round and soft… I’m sure many boys have enjoyed the feeling of your tits in their hands, the taste of your skin.”

Daisy shook her head “N-no master… I… I’ve never even kissed a boy “she admitted feeling her body heating up. Perseus felt himself get even harder at the idea of ruining her for anyone else “Well then… I suppose I'll have to break you in” he stated and beckoned her closer “Kneel” he instructed, and she did so without hesitation now kneeling between his legs “You are going to pleasure me with that pretty little mouth of yours…” his hand once again gripping a large chunk of her hair pulling her face towards the bulge his pants. Licking her lips, she nodded and reached for the zipper of his pants releasing his intimidating length… she hadn’t gotten a good look of it in her dream but seeing it up close made her want to faint… it was too big, how could he expect her to take all of that in her mouth!? Apparently, she was staring too long because she felt him push her head against his length “Get on with it” he growled and forced her mouth open shoving his cock in her mouth down to the base making daisy gag gripping his pant legs “Now move your head back and forth and suck” he ordered, and she whimpered in response as she did her best to please him. “I deserve this…” she thought to herself trying to convince herself to keep going. Pulling away slightly she swirled her tongue around the tip tasting the bitterness of his precum. Perseus was almost impressed with how willing she was to please him, grabbing her face he began to rapidly thrust into her mouth, Daisy let out a muffled cry struggling to pull away “I’m almost there, you are gonna be a good little mudblood and swallow all of it got it?” he growled, with a final thrust he spilled inside her flooding her mouth. Daisy’s throat bobbed as she tried to swallow it all, feeling him release her head she pulled away and gasped resting her head on his knee.

Perseus gripped her arm and hoisted her to her feet “Your punishment isn’t over, you don’t get to rest, now bend over my desk.”

Daisy once again did as told and she felt him rip off her panties exposing her soaked core.

“Well look at that, you loved sucking my cock so much you’re practically dripping… I almost feel bad for what I'm going to do next” he laughed as he suddenly smacked her ass forcing out a pained moan from her. Daisy did her best to stay still, she had to behave, she had to do this for him. Feeling the stinging pain of him smacking her ass again earned a moan from her this time, what was happening to her? Why would she like this so much?

“You should be thanking me, giving you the privilege to suck my cock, for giving you this pain, a pathetic little mudblood like you getting any of my attention” Perseus watched her ass shake with each smack and smiled as it got redder and redder.

Daisy broke “Thank you! Thank you master!” she sobbed nails digging into the desk “Th-thank you for punishing me!”

Perseus grabbed her throat and pulled her against him her ass feeling his erection. Pulling her bra down he toyed with her nipple, the hand that held her throat moved down to her clit and began to rub it, making daisy’s hips buck into his hand “For being such a good slave for your master I'll reward you” he whispered and continued his assault on her clit.

“Please…please master! Please make me cum!” she begged, feeling herself at the edge.

He slowed his movements keeping her just at the edge “you are my personal slave, no one else’s do you understand? No one else can touch you like this” he commanded, and she nodded “yes!yes I promise!’ she sobbed “please make me cum!”

Speeding up his movements once more he let her release feeling her orgasm run down his fingers. Daisy felt him let go of her and she fell to the ground.

As her body hit the ground daisy’s head snapped up from the desk, she was sitting at… wait… what? Looking around she saw she was in detention. She was still dressed, and Professor Malfoy was grading papers… a-another dream? She wondered.

Perseus looked up and smirked “Sleeping during detention Miss Walsh? I suppose you'll have to come back tomorrow to make it up.”

Daisy looked at him in shock, she slowly nodded and got up to go back to her dormitory… she needed a bath… she was soaked….

[ltleflrt]

Hey Carrie! You talked a little the other day about writers' tendency to start a fic too early in the story, and how you see a lot of first scenes that could have been scrapped to improve the story. My question is if you have some tips to recognize while writing that first scene that you are starting too early in the story?

Hello friend!

That's a really good question, and I'll see if I can give an answer that makes sense. I am not a professional, and I'm not educated or trained in this stuff, it's just something that I recognize from years and years and years of voracious reading. And as with all writing advice, I encourage you to take what I'm going to say with a grain of salt and remember that no writing rule is a hard rule, only a guideline.

Also, my advice is going to be pertaining fanfiction, and specifically to AUs. Obviously a published book has an editor with a razor blade going through a manuscript for you, and the problems that bother me in fanfiction crop up in AUs more than Canonverse.

Oh, and every instance of "you" is general, not specific 😜

So I think the main problem that I see is that people are starting with an Info Dump. An Info Dump is not always a bad thing, sometimes it's completely necessary, but it is NOT where you want to start your story. If it absolutely has to be done, it's better to be somewhere in the middle or near the end. When it's something that your characters need to know.

That's an important bit: Do your characters need to know this?

And related to that: Does your audience need to know this for the story to make sense?

And very important follow up: If the answers to the above questions are yes, does the character/audience need to know this RIGHT NOW?

There's a lot of information about your story that YOU need to know. Heck, my notes files are full of sooooooo much stuff that I know about the characters and plot that never reaches the final product.

So when you're reading your first chapter (I say reading, not writing, because sometimes info dumping for your own benefit is good, and then you fix it before you share the story lol), ask yourself those two questions.

So for example:

In an AU where Dean is a tattoo artist, and it's his POV. The story starts with Dean driving to work, and when he gets there he's going to find out that the empty shop next door has been purchased and is going to be a yoga studio. He meets Castiel out front, up on a ladder trying to hang a hand painted sign, and some teens go running buy and knock into the ladder and Dean has to catch Castiel from falling. (Anyone who wants to adopt this idea is welcome to it btw, I would love to read this lol)

The mistake I often see in a first chapter like this is that as Dean is walking to work, there's a whole Info Dump about why he's a tattoo artist instead of a hunter. He'll be ambling along, thinking about his nice little business, and there's info about how his mom died in a fire, and his dad was a jerk, and Dean didn't go to college because he saved his money for Sammy's college fund, and Dean's only passion was art, and Bobby Singer introduced him to a tattoo shop owner who took Dean under his wing, etc.

Question 1, does your character need to know this?: Why is Dean reflecting on his past? Does Castiel need to know this information in order to build a romance with Dean?

Question 2, does your audience need to know this?: Why does this information matter? If Dean's only reflecting on this because you want to make sure your audience knows where the timeline changed and this became an AU, then you're starting too early in your story. Dean doesn't need to know this, and honestly in a lot of cases the reader doesn't need to know this. This is information that should have been left in your notes file.

Question 3, does the character/audience need to know this NOW?: If this information is pertinent to the plot, like maybe there's some trauma there that Castiel might need to know about to develop their relationship, then you don't want to put it HERE, you want to put it in a conversation with Castiel LATER.

If I was writing this AU, I would just start with Dean sipping his coffee, he's kinda tired because reasons, he looks up to see an unusual commotion, and has to drop his coffee and sprint forward to catch Cas. If he's reflecting on anything in this scene, it's going to be whatever made him tired, or how good/bad the coffee is this morning. Since Cas is a new business owner, they can talk about the origins of Dean's business on their first date, because it'll be a relevant response to Castiel talking about the origins of his yoga studio.

And just in general, if Dean's origin story includes a lot of canon elements, like mom dying in a fire, dad being a deadbeat, Sammy being the adorable overachieving Stanford student.... try to hide that info for as long as you can so that the audience is actually curious about it by the time the info might pop up. It's the wild divergences that are more interesting earlier on.

Okay, and then I want to talk about my giant pet peeve for a starting chapter. It's a specific kind of info dump, that often includes the stuff from above, but then goes a step further.

My nemesis, The Daily Grind.

I haven't asked the authors, so I could be wrong about this, but I feel like most of the time when this type of chapter is included in a story it is because the author wants to show the reader that the character's life is boring and meaningless before the plot's inciting incident. I can absolutely see why that might be considered an important detail about the character, but keep in mind if it's boring and meaningless to the character, it's boring and meaningless to your audience.

You know how I said earlier that writing tips should never be hard and fast rules? Well this is in regards to that Show Don't Tell rule, and it's an example of TOO MUCH showing lol

It is possible to do a daily grind in an interesting way, but only if you include a Shake Up right away. And you have to look at the 3 questions a little bit differently.

So for example:

Castiel POV, and he works in an office. His daily routine is to always get up at the same time every day, he goes for his run, he grooms himself, he has his breakfast, he goes to work and talks to Kelly about how Jack's doing in kindergarten for a few minutes before going into his office. Adler comes in to be a prick, Castiel hates him for it, and then he does his reports, has lunch hiding in a corner of the lunch room so that his co-workers will leave him alone, he does more reporting, leaves an hour after his shift technically ends, goes home to a lonely apartment that maybe includes a pet who is the only being that shows him affection, has an unsatisfying dinner of leftover takeout while watching a mindless reality tv show, then he goes to bed.

Ugh.

BORING.

Which, yeah I get it, the point is that his life is boring. But now the story is too, and I've clicked the back button before I can see how exciting it's capable of getting.

Question 1, does your character need to know this?: No. He knows. Poor thing definitely already knows.

Question 2, does your audience need to know this?: Yes, but...

Question 3, does the character/audience need to know this NOW?: Yes, but new question for ya:

Optional Question 4, why does this need to be separate from your plot's inciting incident? The answer to this 4th question is usually that it doesn't.

Chapter 2 of this type of beginning usually shows the shake up of Castiel's day. My advice is to start with the shakeup, and sprinkle in the details of what you would have put into chapter 1 to show the contrast. It's far more interesting to learn how boring Castiel's day is by starting with the shake up.

So, same scenario:

Castiel's alarm doesn't go off for some reason, OH NO HIS ROUTINE IS SHAKEN UP! You're explaining his routine while also stressing him the fuck out because he has to rush, or skip something that he normally needs to do. Action! Interesting! He gets to work late, and has to miss his conversation with Kelly about Jack because she's telling him that Adler's already in his office being a prick because Castiel isn't there waiting for him like he always is. Oh shit, he's pissing off his asshole boss! Conflict! He's so flustered by the shakeups that he misses something on his report, and he gets a call from that new marketing guy Dean Winchester who asks if they can have a meeting about it when Castiel normally takes his lunch. BAM! MEET CUTE OPPORTUNITY! While Castiel is getting all flustered by how pretty Dean is while they talk about TPS reports, he can reflect on how this is both better and worse than hiding from his co-workers in the corner of the lunch room. The rest of the day after that meeting he's thinking about how weird this day is, he still goes home an hour late, he talks to his pet about his weird day when he gets home, and maybe he still eats leftover takeout, but he's not paying attention to the reality tv show because holy shit he wants to count Dean's freckles.

In this example, you're Telling the audience about Castiel's normal routine instead of Showing them. But since it's during a plot heavy chapter, it works!

Lemme see if I can TL:DR this...

As you're reading, ask yourself who needs to know this information, why do they need to know this information, and why is it important for this information to be included early instead of later?

If the answer to any of those questions boils down to "this is backstory" instead of "this kicks off the plot", then you've started too early.

I hope this helps? I'm always nervous about giving writing advice because so much of the time I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm just feeling around in the dark. And I definitely do not ever want to hurt an author's feelings, because this hobby is so fucking hard, and we're all fragile. Even authors who welcome con-crit with open arms will have a weak point that they're unaware of that might get poked wrong and cause a crack, ya know?

I hope anyone who gets this far who might see their own works reflected in my examples understands that I have a lot of respect for their ability to put their work out into the world, and I want them to keep doing it. We're here to have fun, okay? Okay. I love y'all 💜

[yuyuntianyu]

[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot

I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.

Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !

Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.

Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.

1. I used to like you a lot

At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.

2. I gave you a new title

Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.

3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems

On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:

“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **

*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem

These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.

4. You are all I have left

In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:

“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.

This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.

Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed

5. Are you still mad?

This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.

6. I did not think you would really leave me.

On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:

“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.

Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?

Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.

The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:

“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”

So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me ＼(￣▽￣)���

Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.

[the-chaotic-neutral-pansexual]

The Cat Owns You Part 1

CW: posessive behavior

Pairing: Sub!Choi Soobin x Dom!Catgirl reader

Idea: Cats are kind of assholes. Bossy, destructive, self centered and temperamental but loveable nonetheless. Almost anyone who has a cat will tell you sometimes it feels like the cat owns you.

A/N: this is part 1 to this story so its sfw, I'm just using this part to establish the story before the extremely smutty next chapter which will also be out this week. i hope you enjoy❤

Shortly after moving out of the TXT dorms Soobin realized that he had gotten used to living with other people. While being alone wasn't unbearable it wasn't exactly comfortable either. he realized that he enjoyed the feeling of coming home and having someone there for him. Someone to talk to after a long day or to hang out with when he didn't want to leave the security of his own home or even simply having the presence of another person, their warmth, their scent, the sounds of them living life. So as he sat alone at his dining room table surrounded by empty chairs clutching his phone and devising a plan on how to subtly ask one of his members to stay over a few days and possibly move in, a thought dawned on him. How would it look to everyone if the big strong levelheaded leader of one of the biggest current kpop groups came begging his youngers to keep him company and cut the silence of his lonely new apartment? He would look weak, like a codependent child and unfit to lead, he couldn't possibly portray himself that way to anyone. Not the public, his fans, his labelmates, his superiors who he begged to move out on his own and definitely not his bandmates who he left at their dorm in favor of his new apartment. So he stood from his place at the table and took his jacket from its place as the only one on the coatrack, slipping it on and leaving the apartment. he opted to take a walk in hopes of temporarily escaping the deafening silence and spine chilling still of his lonely apartment. at least being outside would give him the comfort of being in the presence of others. soon what was originally supposed to be a short 10 minute walk around the neighborhood  turned into an hour long expedition around the city, there was a slight burn in his long legs from walking aimlessly around the city for an hour however he barley noticed being too distracted by the comfort of the city around him buzzing and full of life, a stark contrast to the apartment that he was would soon regretfully return to. The apartment where nothing but the sound of his thoughts awaited him. Before heading home he decided to grab something to eat for dinner  he decided on something light to eat approaching a small yet slightly busy looking café. he slightly ducked to better cross the threshold into the café before being warmly greeted by a bubbly waitress. “hello there sir! do you have a reservation?” she asked with a smile and a slightly raised voice ensuring that he caught her words “reservation?” he replied his deep voice equally as friendly but laced with confusion “for a café?” The waitress replied with a light laugh “oh you must be new, see this is not a regular café” she stated. Just before he could inquire about what she meant he felt something brush against his leg. He quickly looked down slightly startled meeting the bright green eyes of a small beautiful fluffy black cat. “you see sir this is a hybrid cat café. Its a place where people in the market for a hybrid can make a reservation to spend time with our hybrid cat breeds and hopefully adopt one” she stated. just then he looked around and sure enough there were about a dozen cats, some roaming around and others interacting with customers. he also realized that all of the waitresses had cat ears ranging in colors and fur lengths perched atop their heads as well as matching tails lively swinging behind them. Soobin had always wanted a pet however due to his busy schedule it was out of the question, but a hybrid can function as a pet that can survive on its own. a pet that can keep him company in his apartment and still take care of itself during his promotions. It was a perfect solution. Just then another waitress walked up the look in her eyes signaling that she recognized him. She lightly tapped the other waitress before they began to whisper among themselves. While Soobin waited for them to finish their conversation so he could hopefully make a reservation he bent down to look at the black cat resting by his feet. A truly adorable kitten you were with your smooth, shiny, soft black fur and wide yet piercing green eyes. Just as he was reaching to pet you the waitresses concluded their hushed conversation, turning their attention to him. “well sir you are in luck, someone just canceled their reservation so if you would like we can put you in their slot” one waitress said with a smile while the other stood behind her looking excited but shy. “But before we take you to your seat my friend here would like your autograph, she's a bit shy however she is a huge fan of your group” she asked politely and Soobin obliged feeling like its the least he could do for the kind waitress. they direct him to a seat in the back corner of the café all the while you follow closely behind him, as he gets comfortable in his seat you hop up gracefully landing directly in the middle of his lap before situating yourself and laying down. He chuckles to himself before petting you lightly with one hand and skimming through the menu with the other. You begin to purr as you nuzzle into his warm touch relaxing until the waitress walks up taking his order. her presence making you slightly more alert but still relaxed she doesn't notice that you've claimed him taking shelter atop his lap under the table so she asks if he would like to meet some of the other cats up for adoption at the café. Before he gets the chance to answer you hiss lightly biting his fingertips as a warning that he better not even think about it. he moves his hand and you hop onto he table in front of him shooting him a pointed look. almost as if he understands what you're trying to say he politely declines “oh no thanks I'm pretty good here with this one, we seem to have a connection”. the waitress gives him a surprised look before speaking again “really? That's (Y/N), she's been here a while and hardly ever interacts with any customers.” She then leaves to put in soobins order and you return to your place on his lap. he begins talking to you letting basic information about himself and his life slip past those full pink lips of his. hopefully he adopts you so you can transform into your human form. see hybrids up for adoption are only supposed to stay in their animal forms  when in places like adoption centers or cafes because its easier to care for a dozen cats then it is to care for a dozen humans. the waitresses are hybrids who have been adopted from this establishment and came back to work and care for their hybrid friends ensuring that the get adopted into good homes. if he adopts you then once you reach your new home you will be able to live in human form. While soobin continues talking to your cat form and you meow out responses as if he can actually understand you, you are interrupted again. this time by another cat form hybrid trying to move in and take him from you. Why cant they understand that he belongs to you? Why do they insist on trying to mark your soobin as their own? Cant they see that you chose him first? You cant wait until you guys get home and you can use your human form to mark his body with yours. maybe then they'll understand that he belongs to you. then soobin decides to be a brat and try to pet her. who does he think he is? what a bad boy! once you’re human again you'll be sure to punish him for doing such a thing. hopefully a nice punishment will ensure that your pe...owner never behaves this way again. before he touches her you pounce attacking the other cat growling and hissing threats. it was not enough to truly injure her but served as a warning to stay away from your property...owner. after that incident soobin decides to flag down a waitress and ask to get his food to go. the waitress quickly brings out his order in to go boxes and has a small stack of papers for him. “so do you think you'll be adopting a cat tonight” he looks down at you giving your best pleading eyes and in an impromptu decision he signs the papers. Now he officially belongs to you. he pays his bill before being handed a temporary cat carrier as you get comfortable preparing for the journey to your new home.

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter IV

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)

“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.

“How’d you know?”

“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.

“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.

“No i��m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.

“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”

He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.

You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.

“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.

“What did i say?”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?

“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.

Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.

“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.

you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.

“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.

“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.

“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.

“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?

you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.

you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.

“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”

you quickly pull your hand back and flush.

“stupid old lady.” you mutter.

“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.

“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!

You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.

“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.

“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”

“It’s all good.”

“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.

“what do you mean?” you’re confused.

“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.

“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.

“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.

the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.

“whatever you say, porcelain face.”

“porcelain face?”

“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”

he hums.

“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”

“you forgot iron fist.”

“iron fist?”

“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.

“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.

Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.

•Lunch time•

“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.

“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.

“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.

Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.

His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.

“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.

“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.

“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.

“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.

“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”

She smiles in apology and lets go.

“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?

“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.

“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.

“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.

“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.

“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.

“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.

“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.

“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.

“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.

“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.

“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.

“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”

Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.

“Alright.”

taglist: @purelydarling @deadpoetsandhoney @ghostfacefricker6969 @percyyzz @whatsurgamertag @kiillian @potatochic2003 @beingaweebishell @glitterydonutangel @izzydrawsandwrites @angellicbitch @elebeleb @dream-of-eros @mr-bombastic

[justsome-di]

For the Voyage is Long and the Winds Don’t Blow: Chapter One

An original sapphic fantasy story between a siren and the pirate captain who rescues her.

This story is being posted on Dreamwidth. You can read the chapter here for better, non-Tumblr formatting, and you can check this journal for more updates and notes on the story. You might already be familiar with these characters. I have posted about them before, but this is the whole story, starting from the beginning. 

Before you read this story, please be aware that it features a character having suicidal thoughts, non-graphic mentions of attempted sexual assault, violence, and descriptions of gory injuries. It is, ultimately, a love story, but there are ugly parts to it. Please read at your own discretion.

Andy thought that if she jumped out into the sea, if she let her body float wherever the current took her, she would never be seen again and that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. There were no ships for miles. By the time anyone sailed past, she would be long gone, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. She would be picked apart by fish by the time she hit the floor, the only remaining bits of her body bloated and blue. And then as days went by, weeks, months, a year, she would be nothing but a skeleton buried in the sand.

Tobi met her where she stood at the railing at the stern. She didn’t look at him. She kept watching the ripples the ship left behind. The water was calm that day, and they seemed to be the only disturbance. If Andy jumped in, the circle of waves she would make would go on forever.

Out of the corner of her eye, Andy could see Martin standing with them. He kept his distance as he usually did around Tobi but stuck around for her.

“We’ll be docking in a week,” Tobi said.

Andy nodded. They were docking for food and supplies. Andy’s small crew would get time on land, and then they would be back on the ocean, hopefully, in time to cross paths with an English merchant ship. But after that, Andy wasn’t sure what to do. If they were lucky, they would get a few new crew members out of the merchants. And they needed more crew. If they weren’t so lucky, Andy would lose even more men, and she would have to recruit at the next port they stopped at. And she didn’t know how much money she could spare to bribe pirates to get on her ship.

“I think we should get out of these waters soon,” Tobi said.

“Why?”

“Because the longer we sit here with a weak crew, and an even weaker captain, the more likely we’re going to run into the Navy,” Tobi said as if explaining the situation to a toddler. If Andy had a fraction less of self-restraint, and if she hated Tobi just a little more, she would have thrown her arm out and struck him. “We’ve been sitting in the middle of their route. And if we run into the Navy right now—”

“I know,” Andy snapped. There would be no way they could take on the English Navy at the moment. Not with their crew. Not with Andy debating jumping ship. “We’ll sail south after we dock. How’s that?”

Tobi nodded. “Should I make a route now?”

Andy shrugged. “If that’s what you want. I really couldn’t give a fuck.”

Tobi didn’t look amused. But he never really looked amused. He was always scowling. He had scowled as long as he had been first mate on the ship. Under Eli’s captaincy, he scowled. Under her captaincy, he scowled just a little bit more. He scowled so much that he had permanent lines around his mouth.

He left her alone. Martin stepped forward and took his place. He looked out into the ocean with her. He hadn’t been a man of the sea before Andy had found him at a port. The ship was in desperate need of a surgeon, though, and he was in desperate need to leave land.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Are you going to ask me that every single day?”

“Until I know you’re back to your old self.”

“I am back to my old self.”

Martin hummed. He hummed a lot. Andy never minded it. It was a habit of an old man, and she couldn’t deny an old man his habits.

“I’m fine,” Andy insisted. “Leave me alone.”

Her body didn’t ache all the time, and she wasn’t waking up every night drenched in her own sweat. The relapses of midnight fevers were growing further apart. It had been almost a week since she had woken up so sick, a new personal record. It was good enough for her, and she would make it good enough for Martin.

Though, the old man was nosy and always meddled in her welfare. No one else on the ship particularly cared about one another, and Andy never figured out why Martin was the exception. He was a terrible pirate. He never took anything from other ships but medical supplies. He wasn’t ever eager to jump into battle like the rest of them. Often, he complained to Andy when she was about to throw the crew head-first into a raid. He was a very terrible pirate.

But Andy could never get rid of him. He patched up bullet and knife wounds better than anyone else she had ever seen. He knew more than just stitching up gaping holes in bodies, too. He knew how to treat fevers. He knew how to splint a broken arm. Before him, their medical care had been crude. Andy couldn’t go back to that.

“If you’re not fine, I’ll bleed you again one of these nights,” Martin offered. “It’ll get you back in shape.”

Andy held her breath, hoping that Martin would leave. But he laid his rough, thick hands on the railing, and he stared out into the ocean with her. She wondered if, with his distant eyes, he thought about the same things she did. Going overboard, letting the ocean swallow him up. She wondered if he knew, as a surgeon, the best ways to die. The least painful. Andy had heard once that drowning was quick and easy. A lungful of water, and it would begin. And then the brain apparently blacked out what came next.

It was preferable to bleeding out from being run through with a sword or having a bullet rip through her. It would especially be preferable to succumbing to a fever or infected, pus-filled wounds. But it would have to wait for a different day when she was a little more certain that she wanted such an intimate relationship with the sea.

***

That night, there was light fog. Andy sat on the deck with the rest of the crew, half-listening to the ghost stories they told one another. She considered sleeping outside that night just so she wouldn’t have to walk all the way to her quarters. It was warm enough, though she would probably wake up damp and sticky in the morning when the fog cleared.

But if she woke up in the throes of another fever, her pain would be on display for the entire ship to sea.

She pushed herself up and walked to her quarters. They were spacious. Whoever had initially owned the boat wanted something grand to separate them from the rest of the crew, who only had a handful of meager bunks and hammocks.

Eli had taken little things from every captains’ room of every ship they had pillaged and spread them over the quarters when he lived in them. There had been animal furs, statuettes, compasses, globes. Some were useful to Andy when she took over. Others, she tossed overboard. They weren’t her trophies. She didn’t want them near her.

And anything that reminded her of Eli was better off at the bottom of the ocean. She had found enough in the last year of leading raids to make the quarters her own. Useless, dirty things cluttered every available space. They were nothing sentimental, but they stayed anyway even as Andy piled more and more on top of it all. She almost suffocated in her clutter, but it was how she liked it.

She stretched out on her bed. The sheets had been stolen from a Navy ship long ago. They weren’t great, but they were better than what the rest of the crew had. They were better than what Andy had had a year ago. They were, honestly, almost better than any other blanket she had ever had in her life.

At some point between blinks, as she stared up at her ceiling, she fell asleep. It wasn’t long before she was awake again, imagining freezing cold hands grabbing her limbs and pulling them down through her bed. She felt like she was choking. And then she heard a blood-curdling, pained scream and wondered if it was her or someone else being dragged away by the detached hands.

They grabbed at her hair and gripped every joint in her body tightly. The pain was almost unbearable. Like the hands were crushing her bones. Like her body was swelling up against them and every muscle was tightening.

She fought with her sheets, trying to free herself from the moldy, rotting corpses’ hands. She pushed the blankets off of her arms and kicked them to the bottom of her bed where they wrapped around her legs, finally breaking out of sleep. The hands were gone, but she still heard screams.

They sounded like they belonged to an animal. When Andy’s eyes snapped open, she thought for a second that something was dying right next to her. But then she realized she was alone, and no animals could be anywhere on board. Not any animals that could make such an awful sound. The screams weren’t real, Andy assured herself. There was no way they could have been. They were part of her nightmare. They would be gone with the icy hands. Though, the chill they left behind was still there.

She was soaked. Her sheets were wet where she had laid, and her hair was plastered to her forehead and around her ears. Her head was fuzzy and heavy, hard to lift off her pillow. Her bones really did ache. Her joints didn’t want to bend.

When she was a little more aware of her surroundings, she pulled her legs from the tangled blankets. The night air chilled her when it touched her damp skin. The hair on her arms and legs pricked up.

She should have assumed her midnight fevers weren’t behind her, and the long vacation from them must have meant that she was due for another relapse soon. It was frustrating. To still be sick after so long. To be weaker than she ever had been. It was humiliating. Surely, her crew saw her as infirm.

There was commotion outside. Andy pulled her sheets back over her legs. If there was a real problem, Tobi could handle it and brief her in the morning. She didn’t want anyone to see her in her current state.

But the commotion grew, and then Andy heard the scream from her dream again. Something was dying. It clawed at her chest. It made her feel sick.

She threw her blankets off of her again and grabbed her boots and floor-length, black coat even though every part of her body protested. She felt for her gun in the pocket. Whatever was making that awful noise, she was going to put it out of its misery and then return to bed before she collapsed.

The crew was gathered on the deck, looking out into the black ocean. There was barely a moon. The water was still. The fog hadn’t cleared, and it smothered the light coming from the crew’s lanterns.

Andy’s head swam at the next scream. It fell flat without an echo, and Andy couldn’t hear it coming from any real direction. But it certainly wasn’t coming from the ship. It made her head spin until she couldn’t see straight and chilled her further to the bone.

Andy’s knees were weak. The scream ended, and she crashed to the floor. She shivered too hard to move her arms underneath her to push herself back up, and her entire body begged for her to stay down.

She thought that maybe that was how she was going to die. Some monster in the ocean was going to jump onto the ship and trample them all. She would go first, having no fight left in her. Or maybe if the crew got too restless, she would be crushed by them while they ran for safety. Boots would stomp on her throat and chest, and no one would even notice her let alone help her up.

The deck was sticky and musky. Andy’s cheek was pressed into it, scratched by the splinters of wood that stuck out. She was so cold, though, she couldn’t feel if they were piercing her skin.

When she closed her eyes, ready to let whatever was going to happen, happen, she was hauled to her feet. Four hands pulled her up and then dragged her to lean against a mast.

“Captain?” Tobi asked.

Her lips and cheeks tingled. She grabbed onto the mast but could hardly feel it under her stiff fingers.

“What do we do?” Tobi asked.

Andy wanted to say that they could leave her alone. She was upright again, and she could lean on the mast until she could support herself. Attention didn’t need to be drawn to her little spell or her fever.

Martin raised a flask to her mouth. It was one of the only things he owned before he became their ship surgeon. It was nice. Silver. Engraved with his name. Dented and dingy. It was filled with whiskey, and Andy lapped it up. Martin somehow always had a little whiskey on him. It was used sparingly. Recently, it seemed like it had only been Andy who took sips from it.

“What are we going to do?” Tobi repeated.

Andy pushed the flask away. The whiskey burned in the pit of her stomach, but her senses were returning to her. The ship looked a little sharper. Her limbs felt like they were part of her body again, under her control. Martin kept a tight hold of her elbow. She could feel his fingers pressing to what used to be thick muscle. She could feel the moist wood under her hands again. Slimy as usual. Just as a lot of the ship tended to be.

The deck felt a little more sturdy under her. Or, her legs weren’t as shaky.

She wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. The chills wouldn’t leave until morning.

“Captain, what do we do?” Tobi said.

“About what?”

“For fuck’s sake.”

There was another scream. Andy cringed. Her shoulders went up to her ears, and she tucked her chin down into her chest.

“God,” she moaned.

It didn’t sound so distant anymore. Andy looked around again. The crew was leaning over the railings of the ship, carefully, holding out their lanterns at arm’s length. They looked prepared to pull back at any moment as if they were worried something would leap out from the water and snatch them.

“What the fuck is that?” Andy asked.

“We don’t know,” Tobi said.

Andy shook her head. “I say we go find it, and we shoot it.”

“It could be miles away.” Tobi continued talking, but Andy barely listened. She pushed herself away from the mast, away from Martin’s hands. “I meant what do we do to stop us from going insane?”

Andy slowly moved up the short steps to get to the forecastle. Martin and Tobi followed her. Above the rest of the crew, Andy looked out ahead of the ship, to the approaching water. She couldn’t see anything.

She held her breath. When another scream came, she closed her eyes. She focused on the feeling of the light waves under her and the creaking of wood.

It felt like something was tugging her forward. Like something was embedded in her chest, like a harpoon, reeling her in right over the bow of the ship. Something wanted to keep her moving forward. Something was drawing her towards it. Something wanted to meet her.  

“It’s ahead of us,” Andy said.

“So, we turn around?” Tobi asked, trying to prompt her to say yes.

“No. We keep going forward.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor... - c.1

Summary: Penny Townsend is going to attend her first criminology class. What she didn’t expect was professor Walter Marshall.

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood

A/N: I hope you enjoy this Professor!AU -- can you imagine? Walter Marshall as a professor? 🤤

Masterlist // But professor... masterlist // Next chapter

✎ ✎ ✎

My parents hoped that I would become a doctor. I get it—being friends with a lot of successful parents with equally successful children, must’ve raised their standard for me. They however must’ve known that medicine wasn’t it for me and going to law school isn’t my forte either. It must’ve been hard on them, knowing I wasn’t that intellectually gifted, though they tried their best for me to be.

They did a lot for me. At the ripe age of two to five hours, I was placed at the entrance of a church in Maryland. The pastor and his wife discovered me and brought me to the hospital, only to found out I wasn’t just a couple weeks premature, but also had a lot of heroin in my system.

My birth parents barely gave me a chance the second I was born (probably when I was conceived, but okay) and that is why I am so grateful that my adoptive parents care so much about me.

And that’s why I want to make them proud and studying psychology is my best chance at being the successful daughter they deserve, but man does it feel wrong to be here. I know there is another student out there who deserves to be here, who actually wants to do this, yet here I am taking their place.

Psychology wasn’t the greatest choice already, but having to take criminology was an even bigger mistake. I walk into the lecture hall for the first criminology class. My hands shake because of the nerves, they’re even clammy. I’m not good at making friends, so seeing those cliques that has formed after only two weeks of university, makes me slightly jealous and really alone.

I never really fitted in. My teachers would describe me as a sweet young girl, who is painfully shy.

That, of course, is if they even noticed me at all.

It can be hard to fit in, especially when you feel out of place the second you enter a room, like I have felt since I can remember.

‘Take a seat,’ I hear a deep voice say and I look up, to meet the eyes of the professor. He is unlike all of my other professors. He isn’t in a suit or at least some decent slacks. His denim jeans hugs his thick thighs, as he wears a sweater on top. His curls are disheveled and slightly frizzy and his beard is asymmetrical. A deep frown in between his brows.

‘Me?’ I ask in a soft tone.

He nods. ‘You,’ he confirms.

I walk passed him to choose a seat in the back. I take place and look around me, only to meet the eyes of the professor again. While I wonder what made him choose teaching, since he doesn’t look like someone who was born to teach, I also ponder about the fact he is looking at me again.

Why would he do that?

I grab my laptop and open it, opening a new document. I’ve been going to NYU for two weeks now, yet this is my first criminology class. I run my fingers through my hair, pushing up the glasses on my nose bridge.

‘Okay everyone,’ I hear the professor say, when it’s time for the class to start. ‘There is a sheet going around. Find the spot you’re sitting now and write down your name. If I find out you are messing with me, you have failed your class immediately.’

He is not beating around the bush.

‘I’m detective Walter Marshall. I have worked for the MPD, the Minneapolis Police Department. For this semester there are three subjects we’ll cover. Victimology, crime analysis and the psychology of criminal behavior.’

This is not at all what I want to learn. This is too gore for me. I should’ve stood up to my parents and go to cosmetology school like I originally wanted. It’s better for me anyways.

I’m so stupid.

The paper ends up on my table and I try to find my place on it. I write down ‘Penelope Townsend’ and slide it to the person two tables over. Professor Marshall explains how we have a weekly lecture of two hours and how he is available for questions every Friday, since he’ll be in his office.

‘Does anyone have any questions?’

A guy raises his hand. ‘Why aren’t you working for the MPD anymore, sir?’

Professor Marshall sits on the edge of his desk, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. ‘I was put on leave.’

‘Why?’

‘There were some issues,’ he says. ‘Between me and suspects.’

I have no idea what he is implying, but the silence in the classroom is so thick, that I have a clue what types of issues came with said suspects.

‘Really?’ the guy asks.

The professor only raises his eyebrows, which obviously means he isn’t joking. You don’t need to have studied Psychology to figure that out. ‘Any more questions?

‘Do we work in pairs for the assignment?’ a girl asks.

He shakes his head. ‘No, individual works only.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thank the stars, I don’t want to work with others. Really, I don’t.

‘Okay, if that’s all, let me start right away. What do these women have in common?’ He presses a button on his presenter and the screen behind him changes. Three pictures of women appear on the screen. It’s their driver’s license photo.

‘They’re women,’ a guy says, causing a few to laugh.

Professor Marshall grabs the paper with names and says: ‘Does anyone have something less obvious to comment than mister Fitzgerald?’ He seems not amused at all by the words of Fitzgerald.

‘Brown hair, blue eyes,’ a girl says.

He nods. ‘And?’

‘They’re pretty,’ another girl says.

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ he notes. His eyes scan the paper and he looks up. ‘Miss Townsend, do you have something to add?’

Our eyes meet again and I realize that I’m the only miss Townsend in the class. I clear my throat and look at the pictures. Say something smart, Penny. Say something intelligent. Really intelligent.

The obvious things have already been said, so I should stay away from those things.

I swallow hard, press my glasses better on my nose and say: ‘Their left eyelid is slightly droopy.’

I hear some people chuckle a bit, making me feel everything but intelligent.

‘Quiet,’ professor Marshall says and the chuckles die down instantly. ‘Their droopy left eyelid is what made them appealing to the killer.’ He looks up from the other side of class, right at me. His slightly annoyed gaze dissolves for a few moments into a soft one. ‘Miss Townsend made an excellent point here. It took an entire police department to come to that conclusion over the course of two months.’

Oh my goodness, I made an excellent point.

The slides change and I see another picture. This time it’s of a man. It’s a mugshot. I bet he is the killer.

‘Miss Townsend, since you are on a roll,’ the professor continues and I nearly groan. Really? He wants me to answer another questions? ‘What’s do you notice about this man?’

I scan his entire face. He has a crooked nose, blemishes on his forehead and thin lips. He looks like a killer. This would be the type of man I would avoid if I came across him.

‘His left eyelid is also droopy,’ I say.

Is that a tiny smirk on his lips? ‘Correct.’ While professor Marshall continues to explain about how his own appearance is unknowingly influencing his choice of victims, I can’t help but beam a little with pride. ‘Because,’ he continues, ‘if you understand your victims, you can understand your killer.’ The slideshow changes to one word. ‘Welcome to victimology.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Time spend in a lecture hall while professor Marshall teaches flies by. Though he is a bit grumpy and not very welcoming, he is interesting and smart. Much better than my other teachers. I put everything in my backpack, before I get up from my seat. I’m one of the last students to leave the place, mostly because I don’t want to be swarmed by the cliques.

‘Miss Townsend,’ professor Marshall says, causing me to stop misstep as I already passed him.

I turn around. ‘Yes?’ I ask.

He doesn’t look up from his notes. ‘You did well in class today.’

Is this man giving me a compliment? He might be the first one in a teacher like position to ever notice me, let alone give me a compliment. ‘I did?’

‘Yeah,’ he says, now looking up from his notes. ‘Don’t hesitate to say something in class next time. You have great insight.’

‘Or just luck,’ I say.

Professor Marshall shakes his head. ‘No, this isn’t about luck, this is good insight. So, can you promise me to raise your hand next class?’

I bite my lip, before shaking my head. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘What I said: this was luck and it probably won’t happen again. I have to go. I reserved a spot at the library. If that is all, sir?’

He doesn’t say anything, simply looks at me. It takes a second, maybe two before he nods. ‘If you have questions,’ he says, ‘you know how to contact me.’

I nod, before I walk out of the hall. I see students gathering in front of the door and I quickly slip through them and make my way to the library. I’ve been going to classes for around two weeks now and I’m still up to date as we speak. I decide to at least make a beginning with the assignments of my criminology class, because the sooner I start, the less work and stress I’ll experience later on, because I most definitely will stress about it.

It’s been quite awhile since I opened a book for school for assignments or preparing for exams. After high school, I decided to take a gap year, which ended in two. I’ve traveled with all sorts of groups to different countries, worked at an international cafe in Japan for awhile. It did help me with my social skills. I was happy, social and totally in my element. Those wonderful skills were all forgotten the second I stepped foot back in the USA again.

It was my parents that pushed for going back to college and once they figured out that medicine or law wasn’t up my alley, they agreed psychology, though it wasn’t my thing either.

It’s okay, sure, but… Gosh, I miss the freedom I had during the gap years. I’m not stupid, but is the academical life for me? I have looked at cosmetology school and boy do I wish I was there at the moment.

And not here.

✎ ✎ ✎

I don’t know how long I have been at the library, but my eyes are tired by the time I close my laptop. Besides working on my assignment, I also texted my parents to tell them everything is going fine and checked out multiple cosmetology schools here in the area.

Originally I’m from Maryland, meaning it’s only a three hour drive to see my parents and for them to check in on me. I considered lying about my major, about attending NYU and just go to cosmetology school, but mom and dad are paying my tuition, which is another loophole in my plan.

I put the laptop in my backpack and walk out of the library. Every second my mind wasn’t occupied with university related things, it went straight back to my first criminology class, more specifically my professor. His words. It’s one thing he said those things to me, but another that he looked so handsome while saying it.

‘There she is,’ I hear from behind me as I walk through the hallways to the exit. I turn around to discover it’s Fitzgerald. I forgot his first name, which is weird since we share a lot of the same classes together. He isn’t easy to miss. Pleasant on the eyes, that’s for sure, but he is loud, thinks he is hilarious and that makes him kinda annoying. ‘Miss Townsend,’ he says in a mocking tone.

Okay, change kinda annoying to absolutely insufferable.

‘Hm?’

Fitzgerald walks next to me and he comes a lot closer than I prefer. ‘You’re already the teacher’s pet,’ he continues. ‘Bet the man has a thing for Asian chicks.’

I have no idea how to respond to that implication. My instinct says to get out of here, but the exit is right ahead of me and from the looks of it, Fitzgerald is going there as well. So there is no escape.

‘But let’s say it’s beginners luck,’ he says, ‘because it was actually the first time I heard you speak.’

‘You mind leaving me alone?’ I ask.

‘Why is that, sugar boo?’

Okay, now I’m gonna vomit. Goosebumps run over my spine and the hairs in my neck are standing straight up. I bet this guy’s dad is rich, therefore the only reason he is here. ‘I don’t want you here.’

‘You don’t want me here?’ He starts to chuckle. ‘Sweetheart, everyone wants me here.’

Not me.

‘Fitzgerald, are you deaf?’

It’s professor Marshall.

His eyes enlarge when he realizes that too. ‘No, sir,’ he quickly says.

‘She said she doesn’t want you here.’ He stands in front of the two of us, looking everything but amused. ‘You know, back when I was working, I encountered a lot of guys like you. Did you know they usually peak in high school, do okay in college, but the second they end up locked up in jail—and I promise you, they most often will—they aren’t so tough anymore. They usually end up as someone’s bitch.’

To hear this entire monologue and the word bitch from a professor, was not at all what I was expecting. Fitzgerald’s face is drained from all its color. While Fitzgerald looks like he shat himself, I am utterly amazed. I wish I was this intimidating, I think to myself.

Fitzgerald clears his throat, eyes darting around the hallway, almost as if he is trying to find the closest exit. He shoots out of this place very quickly, meaning I’m left with only our professor.

‘Thank you, sir,’ I say.

Professor Marshall simply nods. ‘You know, if you lowered your shoulders, you’d appear more confident.’

Why do I feel so offended? ‘Oh…’

‘It’s advice, miss Townsend, not criticism.’

‘Oh,’ I say again, this time in a whisper like tone. He could’ve brought it up a bit nicer though. No need to hurt my feelings like that.

Professor Marshall and I both walk towards the exit and I notice it’s raining. Great, guess who didn’t bring her umbrella and also isn’t wearing a jacket with a hood?

Absolutely fantastic.

‘Here,’ the professor says, holding out his umbrella for me.

Is this truly happening? ‘Oh, sir, that’s not necessary.’

‘I insist.’

With some hesitation I grab the umbrella from him and smile. ‘Thank you, professor.’

He politely nods and walks off, leaving me with the umbrella and a little bit confused. Though he looks so handsome and slightly intimidating, he still is nice to me. The only teacher ever. Maybe Fitzgerald is right and—

No, no, no, don’t think like that. It’s not that every man who is nice to me all of the sudden has this fetish. That can’t be it, right?

Maybe, despite my aversion, I am actually good at the whole criminology thing and isn’t it a one time thing. Luck. Maybe I do have something I am good at.

✎ ✎ ✎

That Friday I am still on campus after I spend my entire afternoon in the library. Since I have a question about the criminology assignment, I decide walk to the office of professor Marshall. To kill two birds with one stone, I brought his umbrella with me so I can give it back. I knock on the door and hear a low: ‘Come in.’

I open the door and am met with the professor, who is sitting behind is desk. ‘Sir, I have a question about the assignment.’

He leans back in his chair and gestures me to come in. I close the door behind me and expect to sit, until I notice there isn’t a chair anywhere for me to sit on. How unwelcome of him, I think to myself. Does that mean I have to remain standing?

‘What’s your question, miss Townsend?’

‘I didn’t know which format I had to use for the entire assignment. It’s not really that big of a deal, but I was here in the building and I thought that I could…’ Nice way of getting off track, Penny. As they said in high school musical: ‘Get’cha your head in the game’ and this is  not the game. ‘Never mind. Which format should I use?’

‘That’s up to you,’ he says.

That’s it? That’s the answer he is gonna give me?

‘Right,’ I mumble.

‘Other questions, miss Townsend?’

Yes. I let out a deep sigh. ‘The assignment is just harder than I thought,’ I admit. ‘I don’t really understand it.’

Professor Marshall stands up and holds out his hand. ‘Sit, I’ll try to explain it.’

‘In your chair?’

He simply nods and I walk around the desk, to take a seat, while he leans against the windowsill. Oh, the leather is warm… What a body heat does this man produce. ‘Okay, the point of the assignment is to use some of the example files of—staged—murders. Based on the file you choose, you choose a format. You write out the victimology, try to narrate who the killer is, writing down all your findings and there are things I’m gonna talk about in next classes.’

I nod. ‘That makes it easier, thank you, sir.’

‘You’re already working on the assignment?’ he asks. Why does he sound genuinely surprised?

I nod again. ‘I am. I find it easier to work a bit every day, than to cram it all in one day.’ I realize how that sounds. ‘That sounds dorky.’

‘It doesn’t really. It’s a whole lot better than what I did back in the days,’ he says. ‘What did you think of the class?’

Is he asking for my opinion? ‘Your class was very interesting. Slightly morbid though, but fascinating.’

‘Morbid?’ the professor asks. ‘There was nothing morbid about my class.’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘It was kinda scary. With the blood patterns and all. The peek into the murderer’s mind?’ I shiver. ‘Don’t know, felt too personal and too much into the killer’s brain.’

‘The class you’re taking is criminology,’ he says, ‘you should’ve known.’

I shrug, not knowing what to say to him. He is right…

‘Miss Townsend—’

‘Penny,’ I say. ‘It’s Penny. Penelope officially, but people barely call me that.’ People barely call out for me ever, but that’s a different topic. Total different topic.

‘Penny,’ he says, ‘could’ve known.’

I don’t know what he is implying, but I realize I am totally overstaying. ‘I’m sorry, I should go. Thanks for helping me out. Oh, I brought you back your umbrella. I don’t need it anyways.’

Professor Marshall nods. ‘Okay.’

‘I should go. It’s getting kinda dark already.’

‘Let me guess, you don’t do well in the dark.’

I smile almost out of guilt. ‘That obvious?’

For a brief moment I spot a smirk on his face. ‘I’m a detective, I spot these things.’

Okay, not gonna lie, but that’s pretty funny. ‘See you next class, professor,’ I say, standing up from his chair and I walk towards the door.

‘See you next class, Penny.’