#not am army but still child soldiers which is. not a good thing

[cursed-demigods-on-crack]

Rereading son of Neptune and. I think it just went over my head as a kid but like. New Rome had like full grown adults. Adults old enough to have kids and grandkids. People over the she of eighteen.

WHY ARE THE CHILDREN THE ONES IN THE ARMY. WHO SIGNED OFF ON THAT.

[that-one-kiddo-in-the-back]

Star Wars needs more silliness... because the jokes are good enough.

Once again, if you don't know, I'm what Lily would refer to as a Star Wars weeb. I live breath and shit Star Wars. You got it good. Let's dig in.

Not even a minute in before Lily starts complaining about how Star Wars is diving deeper into the lore of how the galaxy works. Even though she says she likes Star Wars, I never understood people who say they like something but don't want to know more about said thing.

She brings up that all the characters in the new Star Wars are basically the same character from older movies, which is kinda true, but that's also taking away the characters' motivation and story line she's uses Rey as an example saying "what if Anakin was a girl and a big dork." Which is kinda cute but completely ignores the fact that Rey and Anakin are nothing alike.

Now, I do agree with how Rey is a pretty refreshing character (and her video was made before TROS), but she's not as refreshing as she thinks Rey is. She even hit us with the "she's not like other girls," saying, "There is no mystery behind her origins. She wasn't linked to any characters of the past movie/books. She's just a force sensitive person who happened to get caught up in the war by circumstances." But then goes onto saying that no one liked that and that everyone wanted another, Luke. I am your father (which she called stupid)

She goes on a tangent about her complaints about TROS, which is valid. The last Star Wars movie was a big disappointment to anyone who liked the sequel. (I didn't like the sequels because I thought Finn would have made a better main character and the idea of a fascist soldier who was born into the army, learning that he was on the wrong side and worked to make up for his sins more interesting, also for what they did to Luke, Leia, Han, and everyone else from the original.)

After that, she brings up that everyone called Rey a Mary Sue, which is also dumb. She brings up the fact that Rey's force sensitive and uses Luke, Anakin, and Revan as examples of being overpowered, saying Luke had perfect had and Anakin had the reflexes of a god (idk much about Revahn so I'm skipping him) then mocks the people who cried over Rey not having any lightsaber training. But Luke and Anakin already had training in their own way. In the novelization of a new hope and even in the movie, it's stated that Luke would use wamp rats for target practice. Anakin was a slave who was bullied and probably beaten a lot, so he had to train himself to react faster. Anyone who's even been in a situation where you can't fight back will know that dodging and getting fast reflexes will help make sure you don't get hurt. Now, she uses her examples to explain that Rey would be able to beat Kylo in a fight because he's just a wimp. The nephew of Luke, who has been trained in the ways of the force since he was a child, is labeled as wimp. Technically speaking by Lily’s own logic, Kylo would have killed Rey in their first fight.

Okay, for those of you who care, I kinda write the blog post while watching the video, so I'm not even halfway done with this bullshit and I've already written 5 paragraphs of her video and she has yet to bring up why star wars needs more silliness... on to 6.

She then states that despite all her complaints about the movies (because she doesn't want to sound like a naiz), she really loves Rey and how... (this pissed me the fuck off) it brought life into Luke, Han, and Leia saying they were dull as crap. BITCH! I fucking love the original gang (they were my bi awakening) and when I heard they were bringing back the characters for the sequels I was very hesitant and I was right to be. The sequels did the gang so dirty, making Luke (the one who wanted to save his father, the man that chopped off his hand and killed millions of people and Jedi because he still had faith that his father was in there.) A mad man who tried to kill nephew because he had a scary dream of going to the dark side. They made Han (a badass who is a loving father and husband) a fucking deadbeat who lives in his van with his best friend. And they didn’t do shit for Leia she's not her sassy self or anything. She's just there for fan service.

She gets to her main problem with Star Wars saying, "They just rehash the same plot but with different seasoning. They all follow the exact same story: plucky underdog, every man rebels fighting against the evil empire." But the thing is that while sure Star Wars is just the same story over and over, it's the characters that I think is what makes it feel like it's something new. Seeing how different characters react to certain things. Luke wanted to be more than a farmer with fate, helping him become one of the strongest Jedi. Ezra only focused on keeping himself alive and not caring about anyone else to then becoming a strong leader with willing to risk his life for others. You aren't watching the same story with the copy and paste characters. You are seeing characters in the same situation dealing with it differently.

At the end of the video, she talks about her shity Star Wars fanfic and how that's how she would have written the sequels, which now that I realize what she had in mind with writing it explains why it's so fucking boring. why in the only 3 chapters I had read, nothing had happened. Thank god no one with a brain would ever leave her in charge of anything.

And of course, she can't make a video without insulting people for having a different definition of fun than her. Lily, for most people in the Star Wars exploring the lore and wondering how the rebels got the death star plans is fun for them, and most of us want to branch out from the force users to see how people in the galaxy deal with the empire. You know world building something Lily isn't good at.

Okay, this video really hurt to watch, and I completely hated it, and she didn't even explain why Star Wars needs more silliness she's just complaining about Star Wars even though she claims to love it.

[suguruwithabow]

pics are from pinterest, dm me for credits/remove

𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 , satosugu

☆ ; gojo satoru × female¡geto suguru (7,3k)

☆ ; where satoru, the heir of the gojo clan, is forced to marry the thirteen-year-old utahime. luckily, the girl and her lady-in-waiting, suguru, already have a plan.

☆ ; CW mature content , historical inaccuracy , child marriage (but not between gojo and geto) , vaginal sex , fingering , oral , consensual cheating (?) , clan leader gojo , strangers to lovers

☆ ; TW mention of child marriage but there's no underage sex here (both satoru and suguru are twenty-eight)

☆ ; ao3 | wattpad (eng) | wattpad (ita)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | +18 enjoy ! 🎀

«No way! I have no intention of doing it. Have you all gone mad?» «Now calm down, you have no other choice. And why take it out on your servants? It's not like they can do anything about it.»

Nanami watches him impassively from the other side of the room while he paces nervously back and forth.

«Don't you understand, Nanami? Someone has to do something. That is a child. What am I supposed to do with a child?»

«Possibly generate a male heir within the first year of marriage.»

«You're a heartless monster, you know that?»

Satoru Gojo is the only son of the current head of the Gojo family, making him the sole contender for the position of clan leader. He is twenty-eight years old and has everything a man in this world could desire: fame, wealth, good looks, and a strong warrior's body.

Satoru is no slacker; he earned his stripes fighting on the front lines among the emperor's troops. When he walks down the street, people lower their heads out of respect.

But what is happening to him now must be a bad joke.

«No one here is saying that the situation you're in isn't crap, Gojo. I'm just saying that honestly, I don't understand what you want me to do about it. I'm a soldier, Satoru, not a magician. And even if you become the next leader of the Gojo clan, you must obey your current master, like a slave.»

«What kind of sick mind could come up with such nonsense and think it's a brilliant idea?»

«It's more common than you think. The same thing happened to the Zen'in's son, if I'm not mistaken. Then by law–»

«I don't give a shit about the law. By law, children can be given in marriage, and sent to fight a war. What bullshit.» the white-haired man bursts out.

During the last clan council, his family informed Satoru that a wedding between him and the Iori clan leader's daughter would soon be arranged. Satoru had been dazed for a moment. His fears were confirmed when they told him that the Iori daughter was thirteen years old.

Nanami sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he often does when he's exhausted – which is basically every time he is in the same room as Gojo Satoru. «I don't know how to help you, Satoru. You'll have to grit your teeth and do as you're told.»

«Thanks, Nanami. Very helpful.» «Don't be such an ass.» the samurai, his long-time war companion and friend, reprimands him.

This was a nightmare from which Satoru could not wake up. The very idea of marrying a thirteen-year-old girl made his skin crawl and his mouth sour. What kind of sick pervert thought that a couple formed by an adult man and a girl just entering puberty would make a successful marriage?

Marriage? Seriously? And then what? Would they ask him to generate an heir as well? God, not a chance.

It wasn't a secret that his old father was nearing the end, but after sending Satoru to fight on the front lines in the army, he still wasn't tired of torturing him and had come up with this bad joke?

It had to be a joke.

«I'll convince the council to annul this marriage. Hell no, I won't marry a damn child.»

Nanami looked at him with concern. One of Gojo Satoru's many flaws? He was seriously convinced he was omnipotent.

***

As expected, Satoru couldn't get the marriage annulled, and a month later, the Iori daughter arrived at the Gojo estate in preparation for the ceremony to be held in a few days.

Her name was Utahime, a sullen girl with brown hair and eyes who seemed even more opposed to this marriage than Satoru.

Just by looking at her, it was clear how young she still was: petite, with a flat chest and straight hips, exactly as a thirteen-year-old's body should be.

In the eyes of the law, however, she was a woman of marriageable age. At this point, Satoru wondered if he was the crazy one, because who could look at that child and say, "Yes, it's time for her to get married"?

Apparently, Utahime's father.

"Maniac." Satoru thought.

The girl was accompanied by some ladies who would stay with her until the marriage. One of them would stay for at least a year to help her mistress in case of – Satoru felt like throwing up just thinking about it – pregnancy.

The Gojo clan leader had been quite annoyed when he received the request to host one of the Iori ladies long-term even after the marriage of their children, complaining that they already had many female servants at the Gojo estate.

Fortunately, Satoru's mother convinced him to accept. She had been in Utahime's place twenty-nine years ago and remembered well what it was like for a young girl to be sent far from her father's house, thrown into the arms of a much older man, terrified and unhappy.

Having a familiar face nearby might make the process easier.

Utahime's ladies-in-waiting were all beautiful women around twenty years old. Satoru wanted to bang his head against a wall. He would have gladly married one of them, an adult and mature woman with an adult's body, but instead, his nightmare was coming true more and more with each passing second.

Satoru fought until the last moment to get the marriage annulled: he threatened to burn down the estate, to take his own life, or to take the girl's life before even marrying her. But nothing worked, and realistically, Satoru didn't have the courage to carry out any extreme act that would endanger someone's life unnecessarily.

Nanami told him to resign himself, as everyone else close to him did. That's how their world works. The son of the Kamo family is about his age and had to marry a girl much younger than Utahime. Satoru would not win this battle, so he might as well surrender to his fate.

He accepts the idea of marriage. He can always hope for a sudden war so he would have to go to the front before facing the first wedding night. Unfortunately, the peaceful times they lived in dashed his daydreams.

He can delay producing an heir; no one is forcing him to do it immediately, and he has all the time in the world – waiting until the girl becomes an adult doesn't seem like a big problem, but he would still have to consummate at least the first night.

It's mandatory. They will check, and failure to consummate could invalidate the marriage, which would be a much bigger problem because he would be disinherited, and Utahime might be executed. Satoru couldn't escape that. They would stand outside his bedroom door to listen, and the next day they would ask for blood-stained sheets, and one of the older women would personally verify that the girl was no longer a virgin.

If he crouched on the ground and started crying in desperation, would anyone blame him? Maybe not.

The days passed, and the wedding approached. On the morning of the ceremony, Satoru really did cry – but just a little! – He put on the outfit the servants had brought to his room, facing the longest and most exhausting day of his life – and he had fought in a war before this.

Everyone was there. The Kamo son looked at him with concern, sitting next to his child bride. The Iori family sat in the front row next to the Gojo patriarch and his wife, staring at them with admonishing looks, especially Satoru's father, who seemed to be warning him not to mess up.

That bastard Ryoumen Sukuna had the luck to marry a twenty-two-year-old, one of the younger Zen'in daughters named Megumi with long black hair and forest green eyes. Satoru wished he were in his place.

Utahime cried a little when the moment came. Satoru's heart tightened because all of this must have been more terrifying for her than for him. He couldn't even imagine what she was feeling. She was so young, small, and defenseless. At her age, Satoru was playing in the dirt and pestering the maids in the kitchen all day, while she was forced to marry.

The world is truly a horrible place.

There was a grand banquet with music and dancing to celebrate. Satoru sat with his head down next to his wife, who was also silent as a grave. People approached them, congratulated them, Kamo gave him yet another sympathetic look, and his very young bride did the same to Utahime.

Sukuna came to flaunt his beautiful adult wife, while Nanami brought him rivers of alcohol, hoping to induce a coma that would last until Utahime turned at least twenty. Satoru really couldn't bear the sight of the girl dressed that way, and the servants seemed to have bathed her in lavender oil, and its pungent scent gave him a headache.

One of Utahime's ladies, the one who would stay after the party to assist her, approached her to say something that sounded like "everything is ready for tonight," and Satoru felt like crying again, so he hid his expression behind yet another glass of saké. Fucking alcohol tolerance of his.

The lady glanced furtively at him. Satoru returned the look. She was a beautiful woman, about twenty-four years old, with long black hair and bangs framing her tanned face, highlighted by amethyst eyes typical of the southern regions.

Satoru imagined she was born into a peasant family, then sent to the city to become a lady-in-waiting at a noble house like the Iori's.

It was common for girls like her, blessed with beauty, to be taken from farm life and trained as noble ladies. They spent their lives following their mistress, and once she married, they could leave to find a husband. This girl was still young and beautiful, and when her duty was done, she would surely find a good soldier or even an officer to settle down with.

Satoru already envied the lucky man who would marry her. He should be the one with a beautiful woman with black hair in his bed tonight, with whom to consummate his wedding night, not this girl victim of a rotten system.

The party continued well past sunset. Guests drank, ate, and danced without reserve. At one point, Utahime declared she wanted to retire to her room and left with the purple-eyed lady.

Satoru seized the opportunity to breathe a little, meeting his army comrades, Nanami included, and distracted himself by chatting with them about this and that. At least they had the decency not to mention what he would be forced to do tonight.

His father glared at him the whole time from his patriarch's seat, disappointed at how he had let his wife go on their first wedding night. Satoru was so irritated. What did the old man expect him to do? Be eager to sleep with a teenage-girl? No, thank you.

They went on for hours until the fateful moment became unavoidable. Satoru walked around the garden three times, strolled through the estate's corridors at a snail's pace, and, when he reached the bedroom door, wondered if it was worth running away as far as possible.

He thought of slitting his throat right there in the corridor; killing himself was undoubtedly much easier than doing what he was supposed to.

He entered his own room silently like a thief, hoping to find Utahime asleep and use the excuse of his incredible magnanimity in not wanting to wake his wife.

It was all dark, and there was not a sound except for Satoru's heart pounding in his chest. The man took a few steps forward, saw nothing but the outlines of the furniture, and it seemed there was no movement.

Victorious, he turned back and tried to leave, planning to sleep in one of the guest rooms, but before he could realize it, he found himself with his back pressed against the mattress and the girl straddling him.

His blood froze in his veins.

«Hey kid, wait, I don’t–» «Shh.» he is silenced with a finger to his lips. The girl leans down to leave a trail of light kisses across his cheek and jaw, trailing down to the tender, pale flesh of his neck.

Satoru is petrified with horror and fear. What to do? Let things take their course? He thought that Utahime was on his side and wanted to delay this moment as long as possible.

Her long hair seems black in the dim light, caressing Satoru's face as she descends further and further down his throat and chest, the man's senses are invaded by a rich sensual scent of vanilla and shea butter, which seems to send all his nerve endings in ecstasy.

He stops.

This seems anything but the wedding night of a blushing young virgin. A full and firm breast rests on Satoru's chest, soft and thick thighs are tightened around his hips in a sweet vice, when he moves his hands and places them on her waist, he feels her generous curves under his palms.

It takes him a few seconds to realize that she’s not his wife. He’s shocked, he’s about to say something, but as soon as he separates his lips, the woman pounces on him for an expert kiss, her tongue dominates in his mouth leaving him breathless, Satoru squeezes her hips to find something to hold on to, but he is too powerless to reciprocate.

Her deft fingers untie the knots of his dress revealing his toned and chiseled chest. She traces the dip of his muscles with the tip of her index finger as her ass rests against the growing bulge beneath his clothes.

The woman is wearing a white silk slip, they explained to him that it is a tribute to purity or something like that. It really doesn't matter to him. His eyes are adjusting to the dark and he can see how the thin fabric slides over her shoulders, barely covering her boobs; her nipples stand out under the white silk and Satoru would really like to suck them and give them all the attention they seem to deserve.

Obviously the dress was custom made for Utahime, so it's nowhere near the right size for this woman. It marks her slim waist, her fabric is stretched across her chest and hips, it moves dangerously up her thighs until it reveals the imprint of her warm cunt pressing against Satoru's lower belly.

She opens his formal dress, letting it fall off his shoulders and reveal his perfect body and his big, already half-hard, cock resting against the woman's ass.

She grinds against him, her wet pussy’s lips surrounding the tip of his cock, coating him with her sweet venom. She lets out the sweetest sound as her clit is stimulated by the friction against his skin, sending shivers down Satoru's spine, his dick throbbing in anticipation.

She pushes down her hips and the tip gently forces her entrance. She's wet, tight, she resists a little but slowly his cock is completely enveloped by her soft walls.

Satoru has never felt so good. He has never been fucked like this. The woman rides him, imposing her rhythm, squeezing tightly and moaning as she rotates her hips, biting her lips to suppress as much as possible the sounds she would like to make.

Satoru arches his back as her walls clench tightly around his length. Hell, what was that? Something like this had never happened to him; it certainly wasn't the first time he had fucked, and yet.

She increases her speed, her tits move in front of Satoru's eyes who watches them mesmerized. He's been lying on his back the whole time and feels like a real dick, so still.

The woman quickly gets tired of this position, but judging by her wet sounds and moans, she must like it a lot. Satoru takes advantage of this to reverse their roles, he comes out of her just long enough to slam her back onto the mattress and then re-enter that paradise all the way back.

He is indulged without problems, she grabs his shoulders digging her nails into them, a wimp escapes her lips when Satoru imposes his rhythm, much more pressing than before, he bends over his chest to take those precious buds between his lips and tease the nipples between his teeth. God, her tits are really big and beautiful, he already loves them.

The woman's walls clench tightly when she comes, she trembles around him and clings to his neck as if without his support she risks slipping. Satoru kisses her face, which however he cannot see with the little light available, her neck and chest.

He pulls out of her still painfully hard, and masturbates quickly pouring himself onto her stomach. With her labored breathing he collapses next to her, sweat dripping onto his skin as he tries to calm down, she also inhales deeply and her sweet scent envelops Satoru like a caress.

He is exhausted from the long day just passed, so much that he falls asleep without even realizing it.

***

When he wakes up the next morning, Utahime is next to him.

Her white nightgown falls flat over her chest, straight over her hips, and loose around her thin thighs. There's blood on the sheets, but Satoru knows it's not his wife's. The woman he was with last night wasn't Utahime.

The door opens, revealing a crowd of servants and relatives huddled in the corridor. Utahime suddenly wakes up, frightened, and Satoru sees red, moving in front of her to cover her body.

They demand the sheets, and he shivers, yanking them off the bed and handing them over without much ceremony. He barks at the onlookers to leave, saying his wife is shy.

They heard them last night, they have the sheets, now only one last, terrifying proof remains. It will be Satoru's mother who verifies the girl's deflowering, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.

They set up a shoji screen, Satoru stands there, Utahime has her back to him, and his mother leans down to check. A crowd of curious onlookers waits at the door, thank god they can't see. Utahime complies with the requests; it seems like a medical examination, even though it's nothing but a torture.

Satoru feels nauseous; his life is in his mother's hands. She checks, realization dawns on her face: they didn’t do it, it's all a sham.

She looks at him, her blue eyes locked on Satoru's, with an unreadable expression. Satoru breaks out in a cold sweat. She straightens up, «Everything's good.» she says, and leaves. Everyone is relieved, coming to congratulate him, while Utahime hides, wrapping herself in a clean blanket, trying to become as small and unnoticed as possible.

Breakfast is served, the usual maids come in with trays full of fruits and pastries. He sends everyone away, wanting to eat in peace, for god’s sake.

The last to enter is Utahime's lady-in-waiting. When she passes by, Satoru immediately notices the sweet scent of vanilla and her long black hair, turning his head so quickly his neck cracks. She has a bandaged wrist.

Gods, of course! How could he have been so stupid? She’s the one who was with him yesterday evening; Utahime switched places with her maid to avoid consummating her first wedding night. It makes sense.

Satoru looks at her and immediately recognizes her; even under the loose clothing, the deep and sensual curve of her hips is well defined by the fabric. She caresses Utahime's face with concern; the bandage on the wrist is slightly stained with red, she must have cut herself to simulate the blood on the sheets. Genius.

Satoru is about to say something, but Utahime stops him with a dirty look. She knows he knows. But there are still too many people in the room. Everyone is sent away; they are alone, eating in silence, and Satoru thinks about that lady.

«What's her name?» he asks Utahime, and she glares at him.

«Don't even think about it.» she spits venomously.

«Oh, come on, I at least have the right to know, don't I? I'm part of the team too.»

«There is no team.»

«Hey kid, I'm on your side. I'm happy about this. Just tell me her name.»

Utahime sighs. Is she really married to this idiot? She wants to curse her father. «Suguru, her name is Geto Suguru. But she's totally out of your league.»

«How old is she?»

«Twenty-eight.»

The same age as him? Satoru would have sworn she was a bit younger. Oh, well, he’s pleased. They already have something in common.

«She's beautiful.»

«I know. Stay away from her.»

«Hey, you ladies dragged me into this mess.»

«Because we knew you wouldn’t say anything, but Suguru is mine, so don't get any weird ideas.»

Possessive. Satoru understands; he'd be the same if he had Suguru for himself.

Suguru, what a beautiful name. Satoru thinks about it all day.

After breakfast, he gets up and takes care of his duties as the heir of the Gojo clan. His father asks to see him and congratulates him on consummating the marriage; his mother is in the room, always giving him that strange look, but as long as she says nothing, Satoru is fine with it.

There are still some wedding guests preparing to leave. Sukuna pities him for his unhappy union, and Satoru considers punching him in the face; his wife, Megumi, scolds him and apologizes to Satoru. Damn, she's too beautiful and kind for a monster like Sukuna.

Nanami gives him a supportive pat on the shoulder, Satoru is about to tell him what really happened, but there are still too many people around.

He stops a maid, asking about Suguru, Utahime's lady-in-waiting, pretending his wife was looking for her. The maid tells him Suguru wasn’t feeling well and was sleeping in her quarters, exhausted from all the work they had to do.

At lunch, Satoru visits the kitchen, hoping to see her, but she’s not there. He wants to check their room to see if she’s with Utahime, but his father calls him to have lunch with him.

He sees her again only at dinner. She sits behind Utahime, peeling fruit with her long black hair framing her face, making her look like a sea goddess.

Satoru can look at her openly because it looks like he's glancing his wife. It's perfect. Suguru is so caring, so ethereal, Satoru can't decide which part of her he prefers, but perhaps it's her overall beauty that makes her special.

It's easy to have pretty eyes, lips, or hair, but beauty is more than just the sum of its parts. It’s elegance, grace.

Utahime is tired and wants to retire to sleep. Satoru became sad because Suguru accompanies her, and as she leaves the room, she doesn’t even glance at him. And all the moans and kisses from last night? No way they were fake. She enjoyed it, Satoru is sure of it.

Dinner drags on. It's all deathly boring. Satoru retreats into his head as he often does; it was the only way he managed to keep his cold blood during war, carving out moments of pure fantasy within the only safe space: his mind. He thinks of Suguru peeling fruit, but this time she's doing it for him, in his bed. She feeds him small slices of apple one by one, and when she smiles, he kisses her with the sour juice mixing with their saliva.

Sweet.

Almost all their relatives left today, only they and the servants remain at the estate. He retreats to his office, writes a letter to be sent tomorrow morning, and signs the required documents, the usual routine.

When he’s done, he heads to his room. He can slip into his bed, and no one will disturb him, Utahime is silent, she won’t give him any trouble and is probably already sleeping. For now, he still has to sleep in his room; they expect him to. In a few days, maybe, he will move to the guest room when his "duties" are over.

Until then, he will sleep in his bed as usual, as close to the edge as possible so as not to disturb the girl.

When he opens the door, however, she greets him with a hug and a kiss. Suguru smells lovely tonight too, her lips are warm, and her arms wrap around Satoru's neck, pulling him close.

Satoru smiles at her, tonight the oil lamp is lit, and the faint reddish light illuminates the woman's amber skin as if the sun itself had gifted her. «You made me wait.» she says.

It’s the first time he really hears her voice. She’s talking to him, not addressing Utahime with that formal, submissive tone. Satoru feels like a happy husband, returning to the room embraced by his wife after finishing his duties.

Fuck, he deserves it. It's been a tough few days.

«I didn’t expect to find you here, I would have headed back much earlier if I had known. You didn’t even look at me at dinner tonight.»

«And how could I, Gojo-sama? I am not allowed to look up at my mistress's husband. Where I come from, one risks death for such things.» She is sweet; Satoru puts his hands around her waist and holds her close to feel her warmth. Her scent is intoxicating, her loose hair framing her face like a gift from the night itself for this wonderful creature.

He looks into her sharp, violet eyes, so clever and bright – it seems hard to believe they belong to such an angel.

«Yet you're here, are you willing to risk your life for this?» «Only if you make it worth it, Gojo-sama.»

«Satoru.» «Mh?» «You can call me Satoru.» «Sa-to-ru.» for the first time, his name takes on a completely different consistency on her tongue. The man kisses her, pushing her back to the edge of the bed, covers her with his body and keeps his hand on the back of her neck to keep her from moving away.

She kisses him back, she's fucking good at it. Her hands do not lie helpless on his chest, but caress his back forming new and wonderful patterns. Tonight her nails will scratch that back hard, Satoru will have to make amends for last night, in which it was mainly Suguru who did the work.

He undresses her without stopping kissing her, under her dress there is nothing so his hands immediately find the soft and smooth skin to caress and pinch. His kisses trail down her chest, he massages her breasts with his hands, showers them with attention, sucks on her nipples until they are erect and glistening with saliva. She whimpers a little as she squirms under his touch, but Satoru keeps her still and good with more gentle, playful touches.

He kisses her stomach, the trail of hair that leads him to the main meal. He kisses her inner thighs, rubs his cheek against them, looks at her with his impossible blue eyes while hers are pleading and swollen with tears. She wants him to taste it, but she's afraid to say it out loud.

Satoru fortunately is a perceptive man, passionately devouring the lips of her flower. She's so wet and tempting, that taste of her makes him moan against her skin, he has to reach up to his crotch to squeeze his already rock-hard cock.

Suguru bites the back of her hand to keep from screaming as she buries her head into the pillow. Satoru devours her as if he made a religion out of it, his strong arms keep her legs spread and pinned to the mattress, so that even if she wanted to, she couldn't escape his slow torture. The spiral of her pleasure tightens more and more in her womb until it blurs her vision, her walls tighten around nothingness as her body is pervaded by the spasms of her first orgasm of tonight.

She trembles in Satoru’s arms, he stands up to kiss her face while she sobs, he lets her taste herself on his tongue, dries her tears with his fingertips.

Satoru's hands aren’t delicate, they are rough and covered in calluses, but they touch her as if she were made of paper that he doesn't want to tear. He’s kind and touches her so gently. Suguru has never had such a tender lover.

He lets her calm down, his hard cock pressing against the woman's tender flesh but Satoru ignores it. He only care about kissing her, rubbing his nose in the crook of her neck to let himself be overwhelmed by her vanilla-scented skink, gently fingering her with devotion, enjoying the wet and obscene sounds of her cunt.

Suguru comes at him with thrusts. She grabs the wrist of while his hand has two fingers buried inside her, squeezes them as if she wants to break them; Satoru wets his lips as he remembers the sensation of being inside her.

Suguru decides that his fingers aren't enough. She needs something thicker and warmer to fill her up, so she grabs his cock and lines it up with her hole. «Can you– can you– please.» she pleads. She pleads because doing it with Satoru feels so good and she doesn't mind sounding needy.

Satoru holds her and fulfills her request, without batting an eye. He fucks her the way she wants, slow and deep, then fast enough that the smacks of their skin are so loud that they drown out her moans. Her mouth is open, a string of saliva sliding down her chin, her eyes crossed.

Satoru has his hands on her waist, he stares intently at the point where his cock enters her, red like a blooming azalea, he has to think about something else in order to not come immediately and paint her insides white.

He does inventory of the Gojo’s warehouse in his head and goes over the names and ranks of all the members of the royal family before giving in and coming so hard that his balls hurt after. He pulls out just in time to pour himself on her wet and red pussy. If he didn't want to risk impregnating his wife's maid, he would come inside her so deep that he would touch the pearly gates of heaven with his fingertips, but unfortunately he has to resist to the instinct to stick his cock back into her cunt and make a mess of it.

Suguru lets him rest on her chest once cleaned with a wet cloth, strokes his white hair and traces imaginary drawings on his skin. Satoru soon slips into the limbo of half-sleep, but when he is about to fall asleep for real he hears Suguru get up, get dressed and leave. He wants to stop her, but he's too tired even to speak, he falls asleep a second later.

***

The happiest six months of his life pass. On paper, Satoru is married to Utahime from the Iori clan, but every night, waiting for him in his room, there’s Suguru Geto, with her soft lips and warm body.

Satoru doesn't want to exaggerate, but he might have fallen in love with this woman. Their encounters are limited to nighttime, while for the rest of the day, Suguru isn't in his sight or, if she is, she's always a step behind Utahime with her head bowed.

They don't just have sex when they meet, sometimes they just kiss, chat about this and that, or play shoji or cards – and Suguru always beats his ass.

Satoru likes the way she laughs, how she quickly ties her hair back when it bothers her, her elegant handwriting, her always neat kimono, the way she eats.

When she's with Utahime, she takes care of her hair, accompanies her on long walks, listens attentively to every word, truly listens without ever interrupting. Satoru understands why Utahime adores her so much, she always talks about Suguru with shining eyes and gives him terrible looks when he tries to approach her in daylight.

She's a precious treasure; anyone would want her by their side. Satoru even overhears a servant making compliments about her and has to summon all his self-control to not draw his sword and execute him right there in the corridor.

One day, it seems like it's going to rain, so Satoru goes to get Suguru in her room and tells her to get ready. She looks at him, frightened and confused; it's the first time he's spoken directly to her in front of other people.

She does as she's told, following Satoru to the estate's entrance, always a step behind, staring at his back with her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

«Gojo-sama, what are you doing here?» one of the servants asks when the master orders a carriage to be prepared.

«I'm going to the city for errands.» he replies brusquely. The servant tilts his head, casting a long look at Suguru, who does everything to hide behind Satoru's imposing figure.

«Are you taking Lady Iori's maid with you? Perhaps you’d prefer to take your wife, no?» The servant's tone is provocative. Satoru doesn't like being questioned; he already has to deal with his father every day – in reality, the only time he's truly listened to is when he's barking orders in the army.

«That's not possible. I'm going to the city to buy a gift for my wife; it must be a surprise. This maid knows her more intimately than I do, she will advise me wisely.»

The servant seems suspicious, but Satoru is firm with his words, and the servant is no one to contradict the master. They get into the carriage and travel in silence, sitting apart.

Suguru is happy to finally leave the estate, hiding her smile behind her hand as she looks out the window.

Utahime still hasn't gotten used to the new house and rarely goes out. She doesn't have much to do, as a lady-in-waiting, she isn't allowed to work outdoors or in the kitchens. Usually, when her mistress doesn't require her presence, Suguru simply sits down. Thankfully, Satoru has given her free access to his library and occasionally sends her accounting reports to review – since Suguru is very attentive and has noticed small errors more than once – otherwise, she would seriously risk dying of boredom.

Sometimes Satoru's mother wants to have tea with her, saying she appreciates her company, but Suguru thinks she suspects something. Satoru told her that his mother knows about the unconsummated marriage, but that her suspects the relationship between her son and the maid is just a conjecture: Satoru is too careful and Suguru has a great poker face, she must have deduced it, being the only other person aware of the first night's ruse.

So, Suguru is happy to get out of that estate, meet normal people outside the servants and the Gojo family.

When they arrive there, Satoru actually runs errands, and Suguru follows him patiently. All eyes are on her, and Satoru doesn't like it. This woman is too beautiful even for a short visit to the city.

It doesn't take long before the strong smell of rain fills their nostrils and the first drops begin to dot the ground with spots. Suguru feels herself being grabbed by the waist and lets Satoru guide her through the city's streets.

«Damn, it really looks like it's going to rain, we should find a place to shelter for now, what do you think?»

Suguru blushes and lets herself be guided to a teahouse, one of those refined places where only those with money to throw away can enter, while most people can only gaze at the windows in hopes of catching a fleeting glimpse of the girls working there.

They enter the foyer just in time before the rain starts pouring down heavily. The old woman at the counter greets Satoru with a smile, as if it's not the first time he's been here.

«Maeda-sama. We weren't expecting you anymore, it's been so long!»

Satoru returns the smile and shrugs. «What can I say, Ogawa-san? I've been busy.»

They take a private room; it's rather large and furnished a bit kitschily, but the cushions look soft, and there's a window where they can watch the rain fall on the empty street.

A girl brings them tea; Satoru sends her away and pours the hot liquid into Suguru's cup himself, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her onto his lap.

He watches her drink carefully from the ceramic cup, moves her hair from her face, and gently kisses her neck. Satoru wishes there were more moments like this, but unfortunately, they can only afford stolen moments during the night when the house is silent, and prying eyes are closed.

«Aren't you going to drink anything, Satoru?» Suguru, who has finally started calling him by his name after all his urging, asks him.

Satoru shakes his head, hiding among her long, silky black hair. God, how he loves that hair, he adores how it frames her face innocently, or how it slides sensually down her back when he takes her from behind.

«They didn't bring sugar; I don't like tea unless it's sweet enough.» he explains. Suguru laughs, leaning back on her lover's shoulder. «You're such a baby.» she gently chides.

Satoru grabs her chin with his fingers and forces her to turn her head to engage her in a deep kiss. The tea might have been bitter, but the mouth of the most beautiful woman in the world to Satoru is like honey from its source.

She moans into his mouth, rubbing against his thigh seeking more contact. Suddenly, it's too hot and there are too many layers of clothes between them.

«Satoru–» Suguru moans as they lie down on the soft, decorated carpet, in each other's arms.

«Suguru...» the man whispers, looking at her with his clear blue eyes. «I wish you were my wife.»

Satoru has thought this from the moment he first noticed her, but it's the first time he's said it out loud, especially to Suguru.

It sounds sad, but she decides to joke about it to lighten the mood. «Come on, Satoru, don't you know married men don't bring their wives to teahouses?» she laughs.

«I'd take you anywhere if I could. I’ll find a way to marry you, Suguru. I promise you.» he's serious, Suguru can't handle the intensity of his gaze, so she moves down his body to his groin and carefully unties his dress.

«You will have to settle for a lover for now, Gojo-sama. And then who tells you that I would like to be your wife? I see you have a tendency to be unfaithful to your spouse.» she jokes by grabbing his cock at the base – it's thick, warm, with a big vein running the length of it. Suguru swallows dryly.

She kisses the tip, parting her lips to wet the length, with her expert tongue that already knows all of Satoru's weak points. She’s grateful that she has practically no gag reflex, otherwise she wouldn't be able to take even a quarter of it. Instead, she swallows his length almost entirely and where she can't reach, her hand takes care of completing the job. She enjoys the strong taste of him, and his muffled moans as she sucks him off.

«Says the woman who crawled into my bed on my wedding night.»

When Satoru's cock is hard and aroused enough, Suguru pulls away with a pop, a string of saliva connecting her red, swollen lips to the tip of his cock.

«Did not you like it? Yet I thought you had a good time, if my memory serves me correctly. Do you remember how I rode you that first night?» Suguru climbs up the man's tense body, her dress slips down her shoulders leaving her naked under the burning gaze of her lover. She moves to rub the tip of his cock against her hole, the emptiness in her stomach becoming unbearable in anticipation. «I thought you liked it, Gojo-sama. Maybe you were expecting a pure virgin dressed in white, I'm afraid chastity doesn't suit me though, master.»

«If you’re chaste I am the emperor, but don't worry, my love. I will drink your debauchery to the last drop, as long as it is reserved for my eyes alone.»

Suguru smiles at him, her hair down and wild, driving Satoru crazy. She lowers her hips until she takes it all inside her, her walls squeeze him tightly, like the first night, Satoru is in ecstasy. The sensation he feels inside her is unlike anything on earth, sometimes while he’s fucking Suguru he thinks that the angels have sent him a piece of heaven as a gift for him and him alone.

The idea that someone else could get close to her is enough to make him rush with anger. He tells himself in his head that if anyone ever wants to taste Suguru, they will have to taste his blade first.

Suguru whimpers as she rides him wildly, Satoru assists her movements by placing his hands on her hips and supporting her, but he doesn't have to guide her in any way because she already knows what she has to do.

The idea of the virgin and pure wife never aligned with Satoru. He doesn't find it arousing or anything, unlike many other men; he himself wasn't a virgin when he got married – hell, he lost his virginity in a teahouse similar to this one as soon as he had the chance – he would never have pretended a chaste woman to be his wife, the way he was made.

He was certain that Suguru wasn’t a virgin, and was actually quite experienced, but he didn't care. As long as she was his from now on, after all, Satoru hadn't shown any interest in other women since Suguru had come into his life, and he had no intention of doing so in the future.

«But look at me, I'm a married man, I shouldn't be doing this sort of thing.» Satoru jokes, leaning in for a kiss. Suguru doesn't deny him and leans forward to give it to him.

«You forget that your marriage isn't valid, and that you spent your first wedding night with me. Perhaps I'm the closest thing to a wife you've ever had, Satoru.» she smiles. The wound was already poisoned; Satoru would never be able to fill the space in his heart meant for Suguru.

«You're right, Suguru. Only you. My one and only.»

That evening, when they return to the estate, Satoru has a dress and a book on botany to give as a gift to Utahime. For the first time, she doesn't look at him disdainfully but thanks him excitedly, immediately starting to flip through the pages filled with detailed drawings and descriptions.

The servants of the estate melt at the sight; in their eyes, Satoru is a tender husband spoiling his wife.

When he turns around, Suguru has already disappeared down the corridor to change in her room. He sighs.

Utahime sits on the couch, and Satoru sits beside her, genuinely grateful to her for bringing Suguru into his life. He promises himself that he will find a way to free her from this marriage and marry Suguru, even if it's the last thing he does in his life.

For now, he will enjoy the peace a little longer.

Fin.

[randomgentlefolk]

CPC CHAPTER 168

I'M GONNA. I'M GOING TO.

Oh thank goodness Frederick has a cat-like flexibility. No but fr tho. The fact that he can fit in small places and just, fold his body??? He's a cat.

OH I AM SO DOWN TO GWEN, AURELIA, THE POSSUM, AND THE RAT PROTECTING FREDERICK LET'S GOOOOO. Also The possum and Gwen's sharp teeth and Aurelia's spit? Heck yeah. AND THEN AURELIA PROTECTING GWEN!! I'm so glad she had a redemption arc :')

OH. OH. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. Do you understand the amount of time I've been thinking about Frederick throwing a book at his bullies and Leland to the point I want to draw it but give up midway due to unable to draw anatomy of a person throwing a book? Yeah. And Frederick calling Leland a doofus LOLLLL.

Curtis not being able to see shit but still defending the aid kit station pretty well? That's what I call true skill. I mean he's really fighting multiple soldiers with armor and spear, and he's winning. But man his hand tho. I'm guessing those are from splinter and maybe some sorta swelling from holding the broom too long (idk how to describe it) or smth? Those has got to hurt...

HAHAHAHHAHAH I can't believe I didn't expect she would say that LMAO. Also she looks so goofy in the second image HAHA.

Nah the commander really went for Laverne too... Did Leland even agree on that?

Omg....Lorena catching Suzie....Lorzanna....

Leland's strength continues to terrify me. He just broke stair railing that seems to be made from marble, WITH HIS BARE HAND. I swear the Pastel palace is gonna need LOTS of renovation after all of these end.

"You don't decide what you want" oh bull I say, bull. Boooo Leland rotten tomatoes rotten tomatoes boooo nobody likes you go home boooo rotten tomatoes.

Eugh I'm surprised Frederick hasn't broken AT LEAST a bone with how much he got slammed and thrown hardly. The door broke bro the door broke. His spine...

Now that I think about it never have i ever with syrah would probably be wild XD

Okay at this point I am the most glad that frederick told cpc because otherwise many bad things would happen...

Wait a minute. What happened to spider Prez? I can't seem to remember...Did she pass out after breaking the door?

Wait so the Plaidypus isn't the royal plaid army?? Wait cause I'm kinda confused now :') if someone can explain it to me that would be great.

OH CRAP OH NO.

Shit, Frederick fr need a doctor asap. All those tossing around, the dusts, nah...

Okay this is sad and all but Syrah with the long nose made me giggle.

THANK YOU PRINCEL-WHOSE-NAME-HASN'T-BEEN-REVEALD!! Blaine really missed like ¾ of the war lmao.

I swear cpc is responsible for me learning new vocabularies daily.

OH??? BLAINE?? BLAINE??? I don't, I really don't know how to start.

First of all, there's a new meaning to this. So what I'm getting here, Blaine wants to be at the top because if he gets all the attention, Lance and Frederick won't be in trouble because he thought Leland wouldn't notice him much then. I suppose what's in Blaine's mind is, it's better to be neglected by your shitty parents rather than being noticed and verbally/physically abused by them?

Okay, I'm starting to get it. I'm the youngest sibling so I don't know if I'm getting it correctly, but this is what I get: "I will take all the abuse from our father so you, my younger brothers, can live a happy life without being notices by him."

Older siblings, amirite?

So, Blaine has been trying to protect his brothers but because Frederick keeps upsetting Leland and then making him proud, Blaine's plan keeps on being in shambles?

One thing I'm confused about though. Hear me out, Blaine most likely has golden child syndrome right? So how do we draw a line between which act is because wanting to succeed due to believing that's all his worth, and which act is from protecting his brothers?

Oh but he still owes Frederick and Lance lots of apologies though. Don't think I can forget what you said to Frederick in the dungeon, Blaine. That chapter broke me. To Lance, well, to be honest I don't exactly know what he should apologize about, but I feel like Blaine still has to? Sorry, I'm not making sense. Maybe apologize due to not talking to Lance and Frederick about his plan?? Oh man someone help me–

Imagine this tho: Blaine apologizing to Lance and Frederick for letting them get hurt by father, but then Isolde came and assured him that what Leland do isn't his fault. Haha I love to analyze this guy's mental health.

I hope he goes to therapy after this is all over. The plaid princes really need a lot of therapy. Actually the whole plaid family need therapy.

Okay say goodbye to my professionalism for awhile.

OABDUANSUAKSBW BLAINE??? PROTECTING FREDERICK?? THIS IS LIKE A DREAM COME TRUE. LAMBCATTTT THANK YOU LAMBCATTT!!!!

Frederick looks so amazed and I won't blame him cause I WOULD TO. IF I WAS ABOUT TO DIE, And someone suddenly came to save me, then proceed to throw the bad guy and himself out of the window by breaking the window and letting the damn sun rise view come in. I. I would look like that.

Blaine looking at the sunrise and realizing the true meaning of life and contemplating what he has done. I love him so much you got this bro.

Also Blaine turns out to be strong! I remember headcanons of him being the weakest out of the three. I mean that could still happen, but the fact that he carried Leland in which who knows how much he weights, and threw him out of the window. Damn.

But they're still falling though, that's not good. I doubt Blaine will die for that matter. It would be wasteful. He barely had his redemption arc. I'm thinking either he uses Leland to break his fall, or Nell's premonition about the tent save him. But the forest is a little far though... Oh! Or maybe, because the pastel kingdom is full of hills, they would fall and roll down towards the tent! That's a possibility!

SHE'S WEARING RED. I REPEAT, SHE'S WEARING RED!!!! YOOOO I WONDER WHAT SHE DID?? I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER...which is in 20 minutes lmao

That's it for now. See ya next chapter!

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts. Please actually tell me your thought on this because I NEED answers and theories. Also psychology analization will actually make me go insanely happy)

[myemuisemo]

Suddenly, Letters from Watson dumps us in the middle of the Great American Desert (part 1 of "On the Great Alkali Plain," 2/7/24). This is not anywhere I expected to be transported from London, and the contrast makes the Mountain West feel exotic for a minute.

The Great American Desert -- stretching from about Grand Island, Nebraska to the Sierras and pretty much the entire north-south length of the U.S. -- had become a thing of legend since explorers' accounts in the 1820s. When Dad and I drove across it in 2022, we talked about how incredibly daunting it must have been for emigrants seeking their land of milk and honey on the Pacific coast.

The way we went, out I-80, Nebraska shifts from green to gray as it rises toward the Rockies. After a while, the wind picks up as you go uphill into Wyoming. There's a lot of Wyoming, and after Cheyenne and Laramie (both of which would be small towns in most states), it's very, very empty. When we finally started the descent toward Salt Lake City, and the little valleys beside the road turned green with running water, it was truly like entering paradise.

Of course, in 1847, Salt Lake City was just barely being settled, as Brigham Young led his Latter Day Saints west from Council Bluffs, and its location wasn't part of the U.S. yet.

The Mexican-American war had started the prior year, 1846, and was still going. Spring-summer of 1846 saw the Bear Flag Revolt in California, followed by the U.S. just annexing the state. Gold wouldn't be discovered at Sutter's Mill until 1849, so while emigration to California happened -- the Donner Party made their ill-fated trip in 1846-47 -- it wasn't anything like the scope of movement along the Oregon Trail.

As far as I can tell, "Sierra Blanco" is not a real place. There's a Sierra Blanca in New Mexico -- which would fit with all the specific landscape, plus White Sands National Park in New Mexico specifically has alkali flats. Last time I drove through New Mexico on I-40, in late 2018, it was delightfully desolate, so I can buy that in 1847, it seemed completely empty, with even the native peoples avoiding some stretches.

Why anyone would be crossing New Mexico is a mystery, since neither Arizona nor southern California were much settled by Americans. There was some sort of wagon route across New Mexico used by U.S. soldiers during the Mexican-American War, so if I'd expect anyone to be about, it'd be the U.S. Army.

Utah, now, is downright famous for its salt flat, but that's west of the site of Salt Lake City.

Regardless, parties screwing up their trip to the west by taking an imprudent shortcut or mistaking the route was definitely both a thing that happened and, thanks to the Donner Party, a trope. Our haggard and starving traveler sounds about right.

Then he reveals a Plucky Innocent Victorian Child.

That "pretty little girl of about five years of age" is the absolute ideal of Victorian childhood, being perfectly behaved, utterly imperturbable, determined to see the best in all things, sweet, trusting, and looking forward to being reunited with her mother in heaven.

This kind of child is why Louisa May Alcott was seen as innovative for writing Little Woman about girls who worked on their character flaws. (This is also the ideal the March girls were being aimed at. Polly in An Old-Fashioned Girl comes closer, but even Polly would have been upset about being hopelessly lost in the desert with no water.) Contrast this with the street urchins that Holmes employs in his investigation, who are good enough sorts but scrappy, resourceful, and street smart.

Ordinarily, a Victorian child who was utterly sweet and pious would be a cinnamon roll, literally too good, too pure for this world, and thus would die beautifully but tragically before long. Being lost in the desert seems ideal for this, but --

She turns to prayer, and since someone must survive in order for this scene to be relevant,

Yes, darn it, I am on the edge of my seat to know what happens. I'm also grateful that crossing the Great American Desert in 2022 was a quicker process. I've been reading Carey Williams' old-but-interesting California: The Great Exception, which has a lot to say about how 19th century isolation shaped California's economy and power structure, not always for good. But that's neither here nor there -- I don't think we're headed to California.

[kittenfangirl20]

Continuation of this post

(At this point in the storyline Charlie is a little kid, about the age she was in the flashback of More Than Anything)

*Adam looked at the piece of paper that had the address that Eve was staying at with Cain, Abel, and Seth, he couldn’t wait to see his sons again, ever since he had went to Heaven and found out that his family wouldn’t be there he entered a bit of a depressive state, he started to eat more and that made him gain weight, he would lash out when he was hurt when some of the Winners started saying that they couldn’t believe that someone so pathetic was the first man, only Sera and later Emily seemed to keep him from completely going over the edge, Sera basically became the mother he never had, she would hold him as he cried when his depression got really bad, he was shocked to see Sera fly down to Heaven towards him*

Adam: Sera?

Sera: Adam please tell me if Lucifer is forcing you to marry him. I can help you come back to Heaven.

Adam: I want to marry Lucifer and be his Queen because I love him. I want my family back. I don’t want people look at me as if I am sort of hideous creature and an abomination.

Sera: Was everything in Heaven that bad for you?

Adam: No, you and Emily made me happy. Being close to God made me happy too. But I couldn’t stand how the others made me feel. I love Lucifer and he has this cute little girl named Charlie that I already like and I think she needs me after Lilith left.

*Adam thought of the night when Lucifer brought him home, he was laying in Lucifer’s arms when they heard crying, Lucifer waved his hand which put himself in rubber duck pajamas and Adam in a baggy shirt and boxers with rubber ducks on them, Lucifer ran to the door and brought in a cute little girl with long blonde hair, Lucifer explained that this was his daughter Charlie, Adam and Lucifer sang a song for Charlie until she slept, that morning Charlie asked about who Adam was, Lucifer explained that since Lilith was no longer Queen, Adam was going to take up the role and they would be getting married, it made Adam sad to see Charlie seem not surprised that Lilith left them and hearing that Lilith was never close to her daughter, when Lucifer asked Charlie what she thought about Adam he couldn’t help but smile when she called him pretty saying she really liked his fluffy hair and squishy belly, the way she said that with child like innocence instead of disgust made him actually feel good about his body*

Adam: I know what the other angels wanted of me, they wanted to make me some sort of executioner who would fly down to Hell and kill Sinners with an army once a year. Did you know that was why I was sent to that meeting?

Sera: I did know that the Angelic Council wanted Extermination Day, but I didn’t know they wanted to make you lead the soldiers for this grim task.

Adam: I agree there are Sinners that deserve this, but they are still my descendants and they want me to kill them because they blame me and Eve for bringing sin to humanity. With how I have been feeling I am afraid of what I would have become if I was forced to become a murderer.

*Adam wrapped his arms around himself angry that the only thing that the other angels saw his as nothing but a freak who was only fit for killing, Sera pulled Adam close to her*

Sera: I can’t say that I understand your choices, but I want you happy. Know that Heaven is open to you if you need me or Emily. I love you so much and I would love to be there for your wedding.

*Adam smiled and told Sera when the wedding was before she left and he continued in going to see his sons*

(I wanted Sera to be kind to Adam in this storyline)

[asmo-cosmetics]

okay spitting

i'm losing my mcfreaking mind why are they having the evil guy say this with the tinkly evil music. this is fucking true

"stop using my face to say such bullshit!" YOU LITERALLY AGREED WITH THIS FIVE SECONDS AGO? AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS CHAPTER YOU SAID YOU STILL THOUGHT DANTE'S METHODS WERE BAD. I'M oh my god. oh my god.

eiden i love you so much but what the fuck. maybe if you grew a backbone and said this to him yourself instead of leaving your surprisingly based evil twin to do it you wouldn't have this problem.

god i am so tired of the narrative of this game repeatedly telling eiden he's stupid and wrong. especially since (besides yakumo and blade) it's always the tops that he has to "learn a lesson" from, and the lesson is always "shut up and mind your own business, you're a naive little idiot who doesn't understand how the world works and needs us to protect you" -- i don't know, that just seems incredibly gross and paternalistic and bottom-shaming-y.

eiden is fucking smart! he's smart and kind and caring and so good with people and knowing their needs, he's creative and resourceful from his time as an orphan, he's understanding and compassionate to an EXTREME fault, like a really really annoying fucking fault. any one of these assholes should count themselves lucky to get advice from him, but good GOD, especially fucking dante.

it's SO stupid. DANTE IS LITERALLY WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING. and the story just treats him as if he's just a little bit of an unconventional ruler teehee for living in luxury while providing nothing to scads of starving children roaming the streets, telling everyone who's poor that they probably deserve it for being too useless to make money, and HAVING AN ARMY OF CHILD SOLDIERS. aside from the idiocy of excusing all that it's also a bizarre disregard for the story structure of games like these. dante didn't learn fucking anything from meeting eiden. he didn't even apologize to the orphan kids, he just did the same thing he did with the butler, "well, these specific starving children have proved their worth to me, so I'll give them a good life, but the rest of them can foad i guess," which is. exactly what he would have done in that situation. if he had never met eiden in the fucking first place. what has DANTE done to prove himself to EIDEN? of course he would like eiden, eiden is bending over backwards and twisting himself into a pretzel to try to understand him, but what has dante given back? mediocre dick and authoritarianism? he's useless. by dante's own logic, eiden should leave him to die alone.

tl;dr fake eiden is based, erolabs learn to write a character arc for tops challenge (impossible)

[mariana-oconnor]

The Blanched Soldier pt 1

...however following an unhappy circumstance involving his writing hand and some amateur attempts at carpentry I have taken it upon myself to write to you in his stead.

What did Watson do to his hand? What carpentry was he attempting? Inquiring minds want to know.

And we're getting this one from the horse's mouth, so to speak. That'll be interesting. A lot of the drama in Watson's stories comes from the fact we don't know what Holmes is thinking and we have to try to work it out through context clues. I wonder how it will wor with Holmes as narrator.

Perhaps I have rather invited this persecution, since I have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial are his own accounts and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste instead of confining himself rigidly to facts and figures.

I am compelled to admit that, having taken my pen in my hand, I do begin to realize that the matter must be presented in such a way as may interest the reader.

A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed book, is indeed an ideal helpmate.

An ideal helpmate for your ego, is my best guess. I'm not sure how else to take this. Also, your ability to insult Watson while trying to compliment him is, as ever, a delight. Though probably not to Watson - not that he has any legs to stand on in the matter of insulting people in his writing.

The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association.

Wife number 2? Wife number 5? Wife number 627?

How dare Watson have other people in his life. How dare he!

“Middlesex Corps, no doubt.” “That is so. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard.”

“Yes, indeed. But the letter was written in the afternoon, and a good deal has happened since then. If Colonel Emsworth had not kicked me out—”

Alas, a colonel. I thought perhaps after last time ACD had got over his irrational hatred of them, but we shall see. Colonel Emsworth, I am watching you!

"He was Colonel Emsworth's only son—Emsworth, the Crimean V. C.—and he had the fighting blood in him, so it is no wonder he volunteered."

Does 'fighting blood' mean that he's just super aggressive and can't control his temper? I'm worried that's what it means. But instead of being a bad thing, it's a good thing because he's in the army and his dad's a colonel?

“Well, when the war was over, and we all got back, I wrote to his father and asked where Godfrey was. No answer. I waited a bit and then I wrote again. This time I had a reply, short and gruff. Godfrey had gone on a voyage round the world, and it was not likely that he would be back for a year."

OK, so we presumably have another case of a father covering up some 'shame' or 'scandal' that requires him to place his reputation above his child. Something's very wrong with Godfrey.

"I wrote to the mother, therefore [...] In reply I had quite an amiable answer from her and an offer to put me up for the night."

So the colonel is apparently keeping this scandal from his wife as well. The other offence of poor communication with your romantic partner is also in play. A classic Holmes tale.

“Tuxbury Old Hall is inaccessible—five miles from anywhere."

Look, I may be from Britain where distances are smaller, but even I don't think 5 miles is that far. Even if you're walking it. If you're a slow walker that's still 2 hours at most. Mr Dodd was in the army. You're telling me that an army guy thinks a 5-mile walk is inaccessible?

"...and there was his wife, who might have been older. She had been Godfrey's nurse, and I had heard him speak of her as second only to his mother in his affections, I was drawn to her in spite of her queer appearance."

You didn't describe her. What about her was queer? You can't just say that and not describe her. Does she have an elephant trunk instead of a nose? Three eyes? Do her earlobes droop to touch her shoulders?

“He glanced at the two which I handed him, and then he tossed them back. “‘Well, what then?’ he asked. “‘I was fond of your son Godfrey, sir. Many ties and memories united us. Is it not natural that I should wonder at his sudden silence and should wish to know what has become of him?’"

I know this is't going to be, but the vibes of 'son joins army, gets boyfriend, then comes out after leaving the army, but his strict military father is a homophobic jackass' are strong with this one.

He's 'on a voyage around the world'. He 'doesn't want to talk to you'. He needs 'a complete rerst and change'.

"The lady questioned me eagerly about her son, but the old man seemed morose and depressed. I was so bored by the whole proceeding that I made an excuse as soon as I decently could and retired to my bedroom."

You were bored? You cam here telling the woman you'd tell her about her son - who you claim to love - and then when you do the thing you promised her you would, you're too bored so you go to bed early. Clearly this woman is upset about her son and wants to hear about him. You damn well talk to her about him.

"...after a year of sleeping upon the veldt, Mr. Holmes, one is not too particular about one's quarters."

But 5 miles with a suitcase is still too far to walk and talking to one unhappy woman for one evening is too boring to endure. You must have been a terrible soldier, Mr Dodd. Apparently the only thing you managed to do in the army was sleep. Though, I suppose if all soldiers slept as much as you seem to have done, the world would be a better place.

I bet Watson wouldn't quibble at walking 5 miles. And he hurt his leg... or his arm... or some body part or other.

"'Is Godfrey dead?’ “He could not face my eyes. He was like a man hypnotized. The answer was dragged from his lips. It was a terrible and unexpected one. “‘I wish to God he was!’ he cried"

Dun dun duuuuuuuun!

A fate worse than death. Oh dear, what would be considered a fate worse than death in 1903? I mean, it obviously won't be that he's gay. I hope it isn't disability, scarring or mental illness.

It's going to be disability, scarring and mental illness, isn't it? I mean he's a man so at least it's not likely to be rape in literature of this time period, as it would almost certainly be for a female character. But I have a sneaking suspicion Godfrey's got PTSD or something like that and they're locking him up in the cellar. The title does imply some sort of physical aspect. Le sigh.

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Please tell me your five favorite things about Daemon Targaryen. Hi yes I adore you!

Hello you! Thank you for stoking my love for this unhinged man 😂

1. I love how unpredictable he is. So many people want to write him off as overly impulsive or stupid because of this, but he's not. He's literally a tactician of war. He thinks about things. He just doesn't come to the same conclusion most of his peers do. He's incredibly ambitious, impetuous, and passionate and I think that rubs this fandom the wrong way a lot of the time because of how jarring and in your face it is (also the resurgence of purity culture within fandom/the youths, but that's another post).

2. He doesn't try to be something he isn't. He wasn't able to rely on his family during the years when he would have been figuring out who he is, so he had to do that on his own and he makes no excuses for who he became. He is not a good man, he is not an evil man. He just is who he is and his morals are very much tied into the warped experiences he's had.

3. I am a big ol' slut for a Byronic Hero, which historian Lord Macaulay described as "a man proud, moody, cynical, with defiance on his brow, and misery in his heart, a scorner of his kind, implacable in revenge, yet capable of deep and strong affection." That's it, that's Daemon. And I love it.

4. He's incredibly complex, he's human. I think people get "morals" and "ethics" confused when talking about a lot of characters within this universe. Daemon's not fucking Palpatine or some such, but his ethics are 100% questionable. He loved his brother as much as he resented him, and raised an army to shore up his claim before the Great Council. His duel for Laena's hand and their subsequent marriage was the stuff of romance novels, and he treated her and their children well. His gold cloaks were loyal because he treated them with disciplined respect and taught them to be soldiers (and yes, ignored their crimes). These things speak to his values (family [his, not Alicent's], responsibility, the power of house Targaryen, etc), which he doesn't really stray from throughout his journey. He also had no fear of decimating armies/his enemies, was having extramarital affairs (depending on how you view his relationship with Nettles. Book Misaria is murkier, since Rhaenyra permitted it, but still), talking shit about dead kids or taking out his wife's rival's children (depending on your take on Blood and Cheese. I subscribe to the school of thought that B&C were there originally for Aemond or Aegon). These things speak to his ethics (a code from an outside source - like ethics in the work place, for example), and he is absolutely ethically flawed (much like Jaime Lannister; he tried to murder a child and is never outright viewed as a villain - because he isn't. Same with Drogo and Stannis).

5. What's that text post that's going around say? "My love language is acts of service and all I know is violence." Nothing can endear me to a character more quickly.

[huffpuffpastry]

Cutesy Story Idea Time!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

A prophecy had been foretold by a great high wizard of a ye-olde kingdom. Ruin would befall the lands and everything that inhabited them at the hands of monsters from far foreign lands. But there is still time, he foresees a hero, a young man yet to even be born, he is so adept he can barely see him as takes on the hordes of monsters. This hero has the potential to save the land and fend off the monsters, The high wizard could barely even make out the hero except for a few features most notably the hero's eyes. They ordered that all newborns would be inspected for the features of the hero. Half a year later a child greatly resembling the hero is born.

The child is proclaimed the hero and the hope of the lands themselves, he is trained throughout his childhood in combat, tactics, survival and all manner of disciplines. At some point the high wizard foresaw that upon the hero coming of age, that he could participate in special ritual to gain heightened strength and abilities. He knew only his blood could pull off the ritual and that any number of unaccounted side effects or failures could become of the ritual. So they waited...

The night before the hero came of age and turned 19, the high-wizard died mysteriously. Come the day of the ceremony the court had been frantically trying to figure out what to do. As foretold only his blood could complete the ritual with any hope of succeeding, the high-wizard's son had died in large scale battle against early troops of the soon to invade monster armies a few years back. Which left only one living blood relative of the high wizard who was at least somewhat trained in the magic arts. His anxiety ridden 19 year old gay grandson.

The ceremony is delayed a day to prepare the high wizards grandson prepare and rehearse the ritual and things he would need to do and say. Come the day of the ceremony the hero kneels within multiple circles, candles, runes and symbols drawn or placed across the floor. The ritual is long and complex taking multiple hours. When the ceremony finishes the hero remarks that he doesn't feel very different, the court and onlookers become confused and panicked. Before they can figure out if anything happened a large invading force of monsters (but not even a fraction of the monsters yet to even arrive on the very continent itself) begin bombarding the city walls with catapult propelled rocks, magic and good old fashion large up close siege apparatus.

Frantic the hero and many of the soldiers who had been attending the ceremony rush to the armories and outpost to gear up and/or begin fighting off the monsters. The high-wizards grandson panicking, chases after the hero to make sure he will be ok and if the ritual had worked. The hero dashes into a spare room in one of the barracks to change into his armor, the wizard (what I am going to call the high-wizards grandson from now on because its a mouthful) keeps watch. After about half a minute the sound of clanging metal and rubbing fabric goes silent and the wizard gets worried. He tries to ask if the hero is okay, with no response returned. The Wizard forces his way into the room and sees a now 70lbs heavier, shirtless hero standing looking at his reflection mouth agape in silent terror.

The wizard begins to have breakdown while the hero abandoning his frustration tries to comfort the now curled up on the floor, sobbing wizard, all while his weight still balloons. He pleads to the wizard to get back up and that he doesn't blame him, but every time the wizard looks back up its like the hero gained another 30lbs. Just as the wizard begins to stop sobbing the leather armor the hero was wearing snaps at the straps and the wizard gets hit in the face by the high speed gut of the hero as it escaped its restriction knocking him unconscious upon impact. The hero frantically tries to kneel (something very hard for him at this point) and check the wizards heart rate. Seeing that he was still breathing he panicked slipped a vest over his disappearing neck and ran to join the army on the battlefield.

As he arrived at the battlefield it felt like his weight had finally stopped somewhere around the small number of only 800 or so lbs. The soldiers were too distracted with the fighting that they didn't recognize him and only blankly stared (when possible) at the ball of lard who was somewhat competently dispatching the monsters after having rushed the battlefield. Regaining his consciousness the wizard rushed to the battlefield and began to support the now tiring hero. After a grueling battle the kingdoms army just barely managed to seize victory, the general having recognized the hero quickly rushed him off the battlefield before any of the other soldiers could recognize him.

Frantic the high ranking court members of the kingdom hid the wizard and the hero and berated them for the outcome of the ceremony. They decreed that the wizard had to do something, ANYTHING! To turn the hero back to normal, they banished him in secret from the kingdom until he found a solution. The hero begged and pleaded to go with the wizard as at least then if the wizard found something or needed to test something he would have an easier job of it, not to mention that he could offer protection (in secret he felt somewhat sorry for the wizard and was worried for his safety.) By some miracle the tired high ranking members allowed it under the condition that should they encounter danger the wizard would have to ensure the hero's safety or face a far worse punishment.

A journey ensues where the wizard and hero travel the lands both near and distant together as the wizard tries to find a way to turn the hero back (but slowly starts to like his new form) and as the hero acclimates (also beginning to like his new form) to his new body.

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

Hi, I am very interested in Jyn and Saw's relationship in TWTaS, . Especially how she found out that he was dead and how she felt at that moment

First of all, you need to know that it is vague. I despise how shaky my grasp on Jyn's backstory remains.

Saw was kind of just this guy her parents knew, until he was suddenly her legal guardian. He told her this like it was just another fact, refused to fully explain what the fuck was going on, where her father had gone, why she wasn't allowed to be Jyn Erso anymore or why she had to go to a stupid boarding school in the South (then the North, then in Wales, then back near London; Jyn did not like these schools and was not good at staying enrolled there). I think Jyn both despised him and wanted his attention, because he was the only one in on the secret, the only one who called her by her real name, the only one who didn't pretend like the world was good and normal and like people had parents and would go on to get a job at a bank and marry an old classmate and have 1.5 children. Then Jyn got good at army things over the summers he (begrudgingly) spent with her and he finally grew to like her and not see as this difficult charge his late friend and comrade Lyra had saddled him with. He liked how loyal she was, and could or would not understand that there is a difference between the loyalty of a child and that of a soldier, and probably was pretty confused when she got mad about his initiation rite (that he pulled on everyone in his cadre!).

I never considered how she learned of his death or when he died tbh, but two options: either she learned about it from someone in the army, only a couple of years after she'd left - I'll say from a commanding officer who probably really didn't like Saw, which made receiving the news even more complicated... Or, and I'm leaning this way, she just learned it from the news maybe a year after she and Bodhi moved to the US. I think it was one of those feelings where you suddenly have this door shut that you never ever planned to walk through, and suddenly realise you maybe did still want to.

[animatorweirdo]

Good morning/evening! I'm thr same anon who wrote that ridicuously long ask about Melkor's child. Well, I got another idea about it. At this point I think I should just write it out😅. But I'm quite shy about posting. So here I am again with another ridiculously long ask.

So, we don't know when Reader awakens first, right? What if they awakened sometime after Maedhros' cspture? Reader is still trying to wrap their head around what is going on and pretty much everyone in Angband treats them like they would a child- which makes sense because Reader is a goddamn highschooler who got pulled from math. When Reader is wandering through dungeons they come across Maedhros who was being tortured. They naivrly talk to him about something that was very important and was supposed to be confidental. Morgoth hears about this and he is furious. He punishes Reader very harshly and makes sure he can always see their acrions no matter where Reader is. This evebt traumatizes Reader and they understand the severity of their situation.

Morgoth can see their thoughts and actions but the memories of their previous life on Earth remain hidden from him as even though he is the creator of Reader's new body, he has no idea just what Reader's soul is for the soul comes from a realm unknown to even the Valar. Also, no one aside from Morgoth and Sauron know that the soul is summoned not created. This can have interesting effects on how the Valar see them and act against them in the future.

As for the Fall of Gondolin, I like to think that Reader uses their own army instead of Balrogs and Dragons like in the canon timeline. So, less deaths here. Also, dealing with a captured Glorfindel would prove to be a very difficult task as his spirit cannot be broken easily. I wonder how many of the twelve lords fell in the battle though? I think Reader would turb those lords to zombie soldiers as well.

I have a feeling Meaglin would betray Reader as he would not get Idril as he promised for Reader deliberately let Tuor and Idril escape with Earendil in hopes of kickstarting the War of Wrath. I don't know how would Reader make sure Morgoth doesn't know about it but I think he would be angry regardless whether he knew about it or not. Because this is Morgoth. He wouldn't want any survivors.

I am really curious about your thoughta on this one. What do you think? Could Reader succeed in deceiving Morgoth or would they have to suffer consuquenses? Where would Maeglin's loyalties lie? How would the Gondolindrim start warming up to Reader?

My habit of writing long sentences are getring out of hand. I hope I am not being a nuisance with my long asks. You don't nedd to answer if it troubles you. I wish you have nice day/night.

Alright, second round let's go! (And honey, I don't mind long asks. I like it when people ask me things related to Tolkien no matter how strange they might look or sound. And by the way, I was awkward and shy too when I started this blog)

I like the start. Letting reader start from the beginning. I can imagine reader to be confused and little disoriented by things, but I think Melkor would be surprisingly gentle with reader since they are technically his first successful creation (And he didn't expect the whole summoning to work). And while reader wanders around Angband, trying to figure things out and then end up finding Maedhros. Since reader is a child from in and out, they would definitely accidentally say something they weren't supposed to. But I don't think Melkor would severely punish them at first, especially if reader quickly says it was a thing they just heard, but perhaps make reader watch as he tortured Maedhros. (That would be pretty traumatizing too).

I can see Melkor keeping a careful eye on reader and make sure they would not misbehave under his eye. And perhaps then the cruelty kicks in and he puts an enchantment on reader, where he can feel their thoughts and see their actions. Reader would have to learn how to not feel anything and take strategic actions to keep him away and satisfied. Not definitely the best father.

How about reader took Gondolin when Maeglin was brought to the Angband? Reader decided to beat him and their father first and took Gondoling before Maeglin could be promised anything, purposely letting Idril and Tuor escape with their people and taking most of the lords captive with their magic. And since reader claimed Gondolin first, Melkor wouldn't have much choice but to give his child what they have rightfully claimed. Thus begins reader's rule over Gondolin.

Gaining Glorfindel's trust would be a challenge, but I can see reader attempting to gain his help to get rid of their father's enchantment since they can't do it themselves without getting exposed. Dealing with Maeglin would most likely be a pain in the ass as he's most likely now a spy working for their father and the scheming would begin. I think the Gondolindrim wouldn't take reader too badly when the times pass since they aren't as bad as their father.

(Anyway. I hope you liked this answer. You definitely made my imagination run. and if you do write this, do tag me. I would read it 😉)

[the-whispers-of-death]

I heard something along the lines of "tell me about your ocs" and RAN to your inbox. I've been waiting for this day. Ik none of this is realistic or makes any sense but I think it's cool so here you go.

My COD OC is a 16 y/o girl who was the niece of a US diplomat and had her entire family blown up by Russian terrorists at an embassy when she was 7. She was abducted to be used as a bargaining chip, trained to be a soldier when they realized they could make her a spy, and spent the next five years training her and reshaping her behavior. They got sloppy, being an unofficial terrorist group, and accidentally gave away too much information of where whereabouts when they contacted the US to flaunt her as bait, getting their entire operation shut down.

They took her back to the US and she was initially under the jurisdiction of the Army. They put her into the foster system so she could be a kid, but due to her "kill or be killed"/"everyone is competition" mindset that was trained into her, she never lasted long in any family or school. She was incredibly violent with lethal skills and reflexes that could be easily triggered, especially by other children or parents that tried to command/discipline her, making her a poor fit for public education and being in close proximity with peers. She spent more time in psych wards than she did houses. The foster system eventually deemed her too dangerous to keep rehoming and turned her over to the National Guard to decide her fate, as she was incompetent and intolerant when faced with social workers and CPS.

She personally requested to continue her training in any way possible, so she was returned to the base where she was held during the transition to being rescued and reacquainted with civilian life. She was taken under the wing of a seasoned special operations team, where she was retrained to fight for the US, and focus on saving lives instead of giving her more opportunities to take them by making her specialize in hostage retrieval. Her teammates and superiors were also uncomfortable with the idea of putting a twelve-year-old on the front lines, which is another reason why they did this.

In the following years, she was completely retrained, enrolled into the military school on base, and heavily counseled to correct her violent tendencies. They countered the ideologies she was previously raised upon by introducing the choice to fight for an honorable cause and eliminating all negative reinforcements in her drills. She still suffered from several outbursts and fear-mongering manipulation tactics, which caused her to be placed under hefty observation once more.

In one of her evaluations, she underwent a lengthy session with a psychiatrist to unearth the root of her aggression, and found that her amygdala was partially unresponsive--presumed to be damage from enduring the blast and debris during the attack in her youth. With having her fear response nearly completely shut down, she subconsciously compensated for it by over-expressing any other emotion present within her, which is why she struggled with outbursts.

Like how Keegan's team are called Ghosts, the soldiers of her team are called Angels. This is because rescuers are often said to appear as "angels" to victims, but the people she saved were rightfully taken aback upon seeing a literal child handle a firearm and free their bonds. They called her gift from God who was too young to be an angel; a Cherub. Rosy cheeks, big eyes, and fair hair included. The name stuck with her from that point on.

Yeah that's her :) my Cherub

I'm sorry if this response isn't lengthy, I love her and am speechless.

I love her entire backstory, no matter how unrealistic it is. I adore when characters who are trained to be killers use their skills for good. Like yes, you were trained to be one thing but that doesn't mean that's all you are!

I hope the Angels treat her well and they're on big family. She deserves a support system. I love Cherub now.

[dongzhou3kingdoms]

Heroes of Chaos Review

Second book about Liao Hua's life in Baptiste Pinson Wu's series, covering 190-196. Three parts (plus epilogue) for this tale.

The battles are better, Huluo Gate for example is very well done and dramatic, one gets the sense of the power of a certain mighty warrior, also some very good playing into how the central plain figures feel about the figures of the north like Dong Zhuo and the fear of tribes. Also Zhang Fei still amuses me.

The battles tend to be well done, varied in style with a sense of tactics (and competent opponents) but fairly short with focus on what it means for Liao Hua, his role in it. With the early part of the civil war (the title should give a hint which early warlord this focuses one), there was a risk of battles dominating but it avoids that, the battles are enjoyable but are carefully spaced.

If Liao Hua in the first book is a growing child, learning and not able to take up arms, this second is Liao Hua as a young soldier. Confident in his abilities, in his lord but with a lot to learn (and not always appreciating that). The training allows to build new characters around Liao Hua and bring in figures like sergeant-major Yu Jin and some adviser figures while figures like Xu Chu, Lady Bian (love their scenes) and Cao Ang remain. While you see the efforts being made to become an army that can fight, the sense of improvement as a miliatry man for Liao Hua and others.

I even liked Chen Gong. For which I can almost forgive Baptiste.

His chosen master who is not quite the smooth rising figure that the novel paints him as while still being a charismatic and wily figure, he is error prone and emotional. Brilliant and clever but like Liao Hua, though older, still also with much to learn and one sees his journey and development progressing.

The ability of characters to grow, to learn, to change is very much still there, just changed to a miliatry situation. While also not shirking away from this being a period of warfare, including one of the most brutal camapigns of the time is covered in this book, but balancing it with little moments for characters to celebrate, a bit of humour, an awareness from the characters at what is going on.

Baptiste does well in ensuring outside events and wider land situation is properly presented while keeping the tale focused on Liao Hua and friends. Of why certain events matter, leaving little bread-crumbs for events to come for the history fan (and I think people who aren't aware of the histories will like the teases/foreshadowing) while letting there be surprises.

While there was one thing that I felt hadn't quite built up enough in parts 1 and 2 for the moment in part 3 to have the impact it was going for, there is enough about it for me to look forward to how it unfolds. Generally through, it has really built well into setting up book three and how events will play out.

For history fans, there remains the fun cameo's of lesser known figures (Chu Gong in book one for example) to spot, some figures that get a little sidelined usually are done in intresting ways (there is a certain Han figure I was really pleased with how he was done), great foreshadowing (particularly around Liao Hua the narrator), it is nice seeing neglected parts of Cao Cao's early time in Yan covered and there are lovely cultural touches. Liao Hua does, given this is a novel about Liao Hua, have a more prominent role (though not all he does succeeds) and Baptiste does add some fiction of his own but would say, with the two books, he has earned the right to see how those changes play off in long term.

So yeah, I enjoyed the second novel. The long term development goes well, I like many of the characters, I enjoy the moments we spend with elderly Liao Hua and I am looking forward to book three and seeing how certain things play out.

[mozillavulpix]

i am once again on my bullshit repeating myself

Super Hero is not a movie about Gohan learning that he really needs to keep training

it is a movie about Piccolo learning he really can trust in others (especially Gohan) and doesn’t have to leave everything up to himself

my evidence today: okay, so let’s imagine what would have happened if they didn’t know the Gammas were coming, what do you think would happen?

In all situations in my mind, things would still probably end up OK even if Piccolo didn’t let Pan get kidnapped to make Gohan ‘get serious’. He didn’t need to force Gohan into the fight to teach him a lesson. Because he didn’t need to learn that lesson to actually win the fight.

The only reason Cell Max gets released is because they’re not keeping an eye on Magenta because nobody knows the whole situation besides Piccolo, and even if that did still happen, Gohan would probably get the new form the moment someone got endangered by that. As we see, it doesn’t have to be Pan for him to snap.

if anything Piccolo makes things more complicated by not telling Gohan the truth, leaving him struggling with Gamma 1 and very confused while Magenta escapes to awaken Cell Max with only Hedo noticing.

Things would have turned out better if Piccolo just swallowed his pride at the start and believed Gohan could help with what’s going on. So really, Gohan didn’t need to learn anything in the story.

more thoughts under the cut

There’s two scenarios I can think of

First is if they don’t decide to kill Piccolo as a way to show their strength. Maybe they would have still gotten the idea to attack Gohan first, and they probably still would have to choose the option of kidnapping Pan because they don’t want to attract attention to themselves in the city.

But as we see, none of the Red Ribbon soldiers would have been able to actually kidnap her, she would have beaten them all up easily. The only people in the army who would actually be able to are the Gammas, and it’d be very tough to convince the Gammas to kidnap a child themselves, even if it was ‘for the greater good’. Maybe they could also trick her somehow, but either way, Gohan would be just as pissed off.

Perhaps things would get more difficult because Gohan probably isn’t strong enough to take both Gamma 1 and Gamma 2 at once, and even if Piccolo sensed what was going on, he wouldn’t be able to beat Gamma 2 without the Orange form, and he only got that because he was forewarned about him. There’s also the fact that maybe Gohan wouldn’t awaken Ultimate unless Pan was in imminent danger, and that wouldn’t happen if the Gammas were handling her, but then

well, for one it’d mean one Gamma would probably be busy, so that’d turn the tides in Gohan’s favor again, he’d just need to get to Ultimate and he’d be okay. And the other thing is if the Gammas themselves have to watch over Pan, they’d be a lot more conflicted and it’d be easier to convince them that this ‘cabal’ isn’t actually evil like they thought. So another situation in Gohan’s favor.

The other situation is if everything starts off the same, but Piccolo tells Gohan what’s going on straight away instead of doing the faux-kidnapping thing. In which case they could go straight to the HQ and take the fight on in their own terms. While Piccolo might not have used the Dragon Balls (although he probably would anyway since he did just get nearly killed by one of them), and Gohan wouldn’t be nearly as serious, catching the Gammas by surprise might make negotiation with them a lot easier, if they just frankly explain what’s going on and how they don’t want to fight unless necessary.

heck, they could both do the stealth infiltration thing and then might figure out a way to deal with this in more practical terms

that would be very cute actually

tl;dr this was all piccolo’s fault, so stop talking about how “i’m sick of gohan learning he needs to train for the 5th time”, that’s not what this story was about this time

[askmalal]

Addard stood, rigid, amongst the ashes of her great work. Her eyes were red - not from weeping, never for the Emperor’s daughter, his favored child, but from the soot. The ash. The smell of things burning that should not burn.

Just a few yards beyond, a group of men knelt in the ash, prostrate before him as if they were kow-towing to some lord of Old Cathay, which, perhaps in some sense, he was.

“This, all of this, you brought upon yourself,” the Emperor of Terra fixed the kneeling men with a face devoid of emotion, eyes like the silence before a coming storm. “This… all of this.” The captives could not face his gaze.

She had seen Barbarian warlords stand against an onrush of landships and fail to meet the Emperor’s gaze. The armies under the command of these men had resisted her Legionaries for longer than anyone had estimated they might. Others had of course resisted longer. But these men, their soldiers…the Lords Marshall had confidently predicted a victory in a matter of weeks.

Her father, the Immortal Emperor of Terra, turned his gaze to her. It did not soften, but it was more sympathetic. The gaze of an approving father sharing an uncomfortable necessity with a favored child.

“How many?” He asked.

“Twelve hundred. Much of Fifth Cohort. Mourned By All.”

“Mourned By All,” the Emperor repeated, nodding his approval. “And theirs?”

“Difficult to say. We believe we have eliminated -“

“Murdered.” Spat one of the prostrate men. “You murdered them.” He was a smaller man, wiry of frame. He was still looking to mud beneath him, but his words were bold enough.

The Emperor looked to the man. “And who are you?”

The man stiffened. “What does it matter? You’ll kill all of us two. Make a desert of this place and call it peace.”

“Perhaps,” the Emperor replied. “Perhaps not. Your people showed incredible bravery. And to take as many Legionaries with you as you did… Still, as I say, you are ultimately responsible for this.”

The little man shook his head. “I may be smart enough to show deference. Too fearful to accelerate my own demise. But I won’t be lied to. Too many of my own people died to stomach this.”

“Again, I ask,” the Emperor replied patiently, “who are you to speak so boldly?”

“I am a soldier. That is all that matters.”

“And the others?” The Emperor gestured to the nine other men there in the dirt. “Are they not your leaders? Your politicians?”

“The ones dressed like soldiers,” the man replied, “are not always soldiers. Some are both. Some are good men. All did their duty, which is more than I can say for our King, or our Nobles. But why does that matter? You have blamed us, all of this, for this atrocity of a war.”

“You were offered peace. Autonomy.”

The captive growled audibly, “My people have been conquered, reconquered, and then conquered again. Each time we have thrown off the yoke. We have no desire to be your servants.”

“I did not offer you serfdom or penury; I offered you autonomy. I spoke to your King. I told him what we could do for your people.”

“You said nothing to our people.” The captive replied, “you spoke to a fratricidal, drunken, Hetman. He does not speak for my people.”

“And whom,” the Emperor approached the group, waving his own Praetorians aside, “do you speak for?”

This angry little man, Addard judged, was a brave man. He was also a dead man. There was no question of this. Her father could be kind, but he was on a crusade; and that mission could ill afford such complications.

“I speak for myself. I speak for the men you killed. It is I who killed two score of your own. And I who would kill two score more.”

“Why fight for this king, O Slayer of Legionaries?”

“I fight for my people against your daughter, the burner of worlds. I fight for my people against your Legionaries, the ravagers of cities. I fight for my people against you, defiler of altars. The king is dead. Dead by his own hand. He fought for no man but himself. May he forever choke on the poison he drank.”

“Your people practice an irrational faith.” The Emperor’s voice was stern. “They are dominated by superstition and fear.”

Addard felt a tang of regret. She kept her mouth shut. He would reveal himself when ready, she knew. Not before. If she could only share the message…

“Kill me if you must, oh Emperor of Terra. But know this: I will not have you blaspheme my gods. They are foreign to you. You have not known them. Do not presume to judge what you cannot see.”

“There is noting to see,” Addard found the words forming. “For, your gods are false.”

“All gods are false,” the Emperor replied. “Science tells us…”

“Science tells us a great many things,” the little man growled, “many useful things. And every few decades, it says new things. Centuries ago, it told us men could not fly. And now they can. That the Old Earth was flat. And now it is not. That human beings would never settle beyond our womb world, and yet here we are.”

“This is the nature of science,” The Emperor countered, “any search for the truth must evolve as it grows.”

“The truth?” Now the dissenter laughed quietly, “the truth. Tell me, Emperor of Man, as some call you, how many names have you born?”

“Many,” the Emperor acknowledged.

“And which is your true name?” The little man countered. “I am Sextus. I have always been Sextus. And you are?”

The Emperor did not answer.

“A man of learning,” this ‘Sextus’ continued, “must accept that very little can be proven true. That very little can be proven false. Our understanding is merely the lens through with which we view reality. I place my faith in things that are true to me, but cannot be fully understood by you. I have felt things, seen things…”

“Personal experience,” the Emperor replied, “is not proof.”

“And being open to the wisdom of both science and the undefinable means recognizing that the worth of things cannot be judged solely upon our limited capacity to prove them true. You came to my home. You promised a thousand, thousand little things. And when we failed to bend the knee to you, you did not stop to consider why. You simply, “ he raised his head and nodded toward Addard, eyes still downcast, “loosed your dogs. Your bullets, bombs, and bayonets killed tens of thousands. The common regiments who fought alongside your supermen robbed and raped as many as the good ones tried to save. You are a murderer. This much can be proven.” Sextus shook his head, ruefully, “the reason for it. The reason cannot.”

The Emperor considered the man. “Stand up, Sextus.”

“At last we come to the killing, then.” Sextus sighed. He stood, shook off the dirt, and made a point of wiping the filth from his uniform. “If you are a man of honor,” said Sextus, “you will tell my mother, should she still live, that Sextus Cornelius Castus died with dignity. I shall give you proof.” He focused his eyes on the Emperor. “Are you a man of honor?”

In her life since coming to join her father, Addard had never seen an ordinary man hold his gaze for more than a few moments. To gaze directly into the eyes of the Emperor was to see beautiful and terrible things. She could do so. She had learned. So could her brothers. So could her…

“And if I ordered my praetorians away,” the Emperor said, his voice firm, “and told them to leave us for fifteen minutes. What would you do?”

“I would make you drown in your own blood. Or drown in my own, rather than be your boot lick.”

The Emperor nodded approvingly.

“Then come with me, Sextus Cornelius Castus, and I shall show you the reason.”

- Sextus is reunited with the Emperor, “The Stars Asunder”, August Richter (1937/38)