#put an evil woman in front of me i start frothing at the mouth

[danielsbian]

demetri is so real i also love evil women

[theleftoversworld]

The Lord is My Shepard

There can’t be more than two hundred people in this dirt pile that they call a town. Why am I here? Why do I do this? Is it not God’s will that they die for their sins? The rapture has come. They were not taken by the Lord’s hand, so their punishment must be here, on earth. But you have called me here Lord... you must have your reasons. Casandra thinks as she rides her motorbike up to the lone business that looks like it’s operational. The same in all of these filthy towns. The church is derelict, and the tavern is thriving. Filthy Godless people. She’s been in these towns enough to know that in boondocks like this there is always a board with jobs listed on it. That’s why she’s here. The church sent her on a pilgrimage around rural Illinois to help the people and find out what God’s plan is for her. The other reason she’s here is that taverns like this always have passable whiskey, which is required before attempting to deal with these people. She runs a hand through her long knotted brown hair to try to get the bugs and leaves out of it. After a moment’s pause she pulls her rosary from inside her leather jacket. This should have some sway to help her get information and stop the drooling men from trying to make a pass. She takes one last breath of clean fresh air before heading inside. It smells like every other tavern in this cursed land. Urine, body odor, and desperation. There’s half a dozen men at the bar already. They look like they spent their day out in the sun digging dirt. They have nothing here. No crops can grow here after the rapture, the earth doesn’t want to support them anymore. Why don’t they leave these barren lands and find someplace where they can actually survive instead of scraping by? A sunburnt man in overalls who stands behind the bar gives her a once over. “Ya?” He says in an accusing tone as though she’s forcing him to be there. “Whiskey.” She grunts, trying to match his tone. She’s learned that gruff works better than nice, and she’s never been good at being cordial. In one motion she sits down and puts enough money on the table for three shots. “Two shots and the extra is to leave me alone.” The man behind the bar seems to appreciate this. He pours two shots and then turns his back on her. She downs the first shot and winces. No chaser, the pain gives her focus, lets her see things she normally wouldn’t. The man at the other end of the bar has a dirt covered lipstick mark on his neck. Probably having an affair with another dirt person. The child at that round table keeps shifting in her seat. She has to pee and her parents haven’t noticed. The family in the back of the bar nearest the rear door, a mother and two kids. The mother has blood on her pants near her ankle. She’s resting it on her other foot so it doesn’t accidentally get any weight put on it. Something bit her. From the mess on her clothes she’s been working with animals. Where’s her husband? Dead? Or did he just leave? Cassandra takes a long breath. Nothing in here is immediately threatening. She can take a bit of time to think. She rests back on her barstool. I was a devout child. I went to catholic school, attended church twice a week. Every extra curricular thing I could do with the church I did. So why was I left behind in the Rapture? Why did God not take me to live with him? Why am I still here on this diseased planet? She frowns. This line of thought never gets her anywhere but into a fight. As if on cue a young man sits down next to her. Really he’s more of a boy than a man. If I ignore him, maybe he won’t say anything. I need work, the last thing I need is to break this kid’s teeth. She thinks and reaches for her second shot. “Hey, you’re pretty good looking for a church girl.” The man says and reaches out to stop her from grabbing the shot. “If you touch me I will circumcise you with my sword.” She growls. “I can’t promise it will be clean.” He quickly retracts his hand. “Meant no harm. We just never get visitors. Especially ones that look as good as you.” She throws the shot back. “Ever think you’re the

reason?” She slams the glass down and gets up to leave. She can feel everyone’s eyes on her now but she doesn’t care. They don’t deserve to be saved. I bet they don’t even go to church on Sunday. She thinks as she makes for the exit. Once she’s outside she spies the jobs board. It looks like someone’s been through here already. “Damn the hunters.” She grumbles as she walks to it. “They took almost everything... Let’s see what they left for me. The storekeeper’s wife is missing. I would bet money she’s above that bar working. I could smell the sin from outside. Aaaand sheep have been attacked at night on the edge of town.” She sighs. “One sucks far less than the other.” She rips the sheep job off the board and heads to the south end of town.

The town is so small she could have walked to the farm but she needs what’s on her bike. At the edge of town she finds a house with around twenty sheep in a hastily constructed small pen. A gate on one end of the pen tells her that they used to free range outside of town, but not anymore. Poor buggers. The animals have it the worst. They don’t understand that they are being punished along with the sinners.

After speaking to the owner of the house she goes back to her bike to set up. It’s the woman from the bar. She informs Cassandra that the attacks come at night so she might as well set up a camp and wait. When pressed for what happened to her ankle she says she stepped into a trap meant for the zombies. Cassandra nods, she seems a bit clumsy and careless. After a few more questions she heads back to her bike.

The church sent her out with rations, MRE’s that they got from what was left of the US military. This one is potato chowder and she hates to admit it, but it wasn’t half bad. Probably better than whatever she would have gotten at that tavern. Damn, the tavern. Another few shots would sure help the time pass. She hears a familiar voice calling from the house. It’s one of the boys. He must have dropped his dinner. She thinks and tries to ignore him. But then something he says catches her ear. “Please! She’s frothing like a rabid dog!” He shouts. She’s on her feet in an instant and running. She pulls out her sword as she runs as well as a small silver dagger she keeps in a belt pouch. “Sounds like a werewolf transformation! Where is she?” She asks as she makes it to the door. “On the kitchen floor! This way!” The boy shouts and leads her to the room. As soon as she enters the room though she knows that it’s not werewolves. The boy’s mother is there on the floor, foaming from the mouth like he said. But her eyes are almost bugging out of her head and the most telling part is her leg. The wound, which is now exposed, is septic and the skin around it has turned green. “Damnit! She needs to die now!” Casandra shouts and pulls her sword back but the boy steps in her way.

“No! She’s my mom! Help her! Doesn’t the church help people?” “There is no helping her! She’s been infected with the zombie virus! Now step aside or I will cleave you to get to her!” Cassandra yells angrily. He doesn’t move. “Lord, have mercy on their souls!” She growls but as she starts to bring the sword down. The boy lets out a bone shaking scream that causes her to wince and stop her blade. The boy falls and it becomes quickly obvious. The boy’s mother is chewing on his leg, tearing flesh with her teeth. The boy is looking at her in horror and screaming, both in terror and in pain. Cassandra shakes her head violently to clear it and then chops the boy’s head off in one swift motion. “Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.” She entones as she then goes to cut off the mothers head. “May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.” Once she’s done she looks at them in some disgust and takes stock of everything. “I guess I know what attacked the sheep then. I need some holy water to perform the ritual to make sure you two stay dead. And to find the other child, maybe they can be saved. Though I doubt it.” She turns to go to her bike but she stops in her tracks. One of the problems with zombies is that they don’t moan like they did in the movies. They are surprisingly quiet and can sneak up on you if you aren’t paying attention. There are fifteen of them in the house, between her and the front door. She glances at the window and sees more of them outside watching her. “No way out.” One of the zombies says. “If you give up, we will make it quick.” “Give up? Give up!?!” She says, getting angry. She raises her sword and changes into the zombies in the hallway. I believe in God! The Father Almighty! Creator of Heaven and earth!

and in Jesus Christ! His only Son Our Lord!” She shouts as she cleaves through the first two zombies. “Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate! Was crucified, died, and was buried!” Two more zombies fall at her feet, their evil purged from this world by her divine blade.

Although she is covered in their putrid blood, she doesn’t falter. This is her life, she was put on earth to slay evil. “He descended into Hell; the third day He rose again from the dead!” Five try to rush her at once but she steps back and makes a wide swing. She cuts off four arms and then raises her sword hand, clenched fist facing the zombies. “He ascended into Heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God, the Father almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead!” A stream of fire comes from her hand like a hose. She sweeps it over the zombies that remain between her and the door. “I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting!” She finishes the prayer and then barrels through the now burning zombies. They don’t feel pain, so fire is a double edged sword. They don’t recoil from it, so it makes them a danger if they touch you. But they are also fragile to begin with, so fire makes them like glass. She plows through them and runs out the front door. By the light of the burning house she fights zombies, slicing through them with ease. Once they are all dead she tosses their bodies into the house to make sure they burn.

By this time townspeople have turned out to see what is going on. They could see the fire and came running but they do not approach her. She ignores them while she’s working. If they wanted to help they could have joined in but they didn’t, telling her what they thought of her work. Once she’s done tossing bodies into the house she walks up to the bartender. “Let it burn. You want to make sure that none of them stand back up.” Then she boards her bike. No pay for this job, the person who put the job on the board was the second person she beheaded. She takes off, heading for the next town. It is not worth staying in a town where you burned down a house. That’s a lesson she learned already. Especially in small towns. They seem to take that personally.

Once the glow of the fire fades behind her she allows herself to relax a little. “Almighty and Loving God, I praise you from my heart, that of your boundless goodness you have preserved me this night past, and have, with the impenetrable shield of your providence, protected me from the power and malice of the devil.” She mutters as she rides off into the darkness. “Do not withdraw Lord, I kindly ask, your protection from me, but mercifully on this day watch over me with the eyes of your mercy. Lead my soul and body according to the rule of your will, and fill my heart with your Holy Spirit, that I may pass this day, and all the rest of my days, to your glory. Amen.”

Taglist: : @hellishhin @thelaughingstag

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Ice Dragon’s Lament

or: Jane is put in her fucking place

Prompt: “Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

———————

Joan wasn’t sure why she woke up with such a festering feeling of paranoia, but she couldn’t shake it off all day. First, she felt like someone was in her closet, despite it being morning- the sun was supposed to keep away all the evil things, and yet she was fearfully peeking inside the small space to check for an intruder or crazy person hiding inside. Then, she was too anxious to ride in a car, fearing an accident, so she walked to the theater...but that alternative didn’t help either. She kept thinking that a truck would careen onto the sidewalk and plow through her or a car would speed down the road when she’s crossing the street and run her over or construction beams would collapse from their places and impale her. Finally, upon arriving at work for rehearsals, she found that her paranoia moved from her own safety to her queen’s safety.

Like that, Joan was following Anne, Jane, and Kitty around- more than she usually did. She wasn’t at a distance, opting to rather stick close by their sides and scan whatever room they were in several times for any possible danger. Anne found it quite funny, cracking jokes with Kitty, who thought it was weird, and Jane just got annoyed after awhile. She hated having the music director hovering over her, and it was going to be a hellish seven hours of work and rehearsal if she didn’t put a stop to it soon.

Two hours in is when Jane finally snapped.

They just finished up running through Don’t Lose Ur Head and Joan was checking up on her again. For what was probably the fiftieth time that day.

“Joan, for the love of—” Jane took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I’m fine, alright? Look, I’m fine. Will you leave me be now?”

Joan blinked, slightly startled by the queen snapping at her. She backed away a little, but didn’t completely stand down, much to Jane’s dismay.

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay,” She said meekly.

“I know.” Jane sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “What has gotten into you? You’re never this clingy.”

Joan winced. She knew she was a tad codependent (read as: “extremely codependent”), but, up until that moment, everyone had the good grace to not point it out. She didn’t like it being said out loud- it made it real. It made her pathetic attachment real. It let it be known to everyone because the other queens and ladies in waiting were gawking from the sidelines, listening in as she’s berated for her separation anxiety.

“I-I just...” Joan looked down at her feet.

“Joan...” Jane sighed again. She really hadn’t meant to make the poor girl embarrassed, but she was going to be pulling her hair out by the end of the work day if something wasn’t said or done about all the pestering. “Look-” Another sigh. She’s trying to find a way out of this without shattering the emotional music director in front of her. “I get it, okay? You’re protective of us because we’re your queens. But you need to move on. You’re stronger than this anxiety, Joan.”

Joan stiffened. Her head was still lowered, but her fists clench at her sides.

“Move on?”

She raised her head and her eyes are lit up in a way Jane has never seen before. Joan’s lamb-like features bristle into the face of a raging ram- like the ones the devil could become or the ones that demons disguised themselves as. Like Baphomet. Sharp horns curl dangerously around her head.

“Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

“Joan—”

“No.” Joan dared to cut her queen off. She riled herself up to her full size, which wasn’t much, and her scrawny limbs didn’t help, but it was enough. Her smoldering eyes and horrifyingly neutral did all the work for her. “Hold your tongue for just a moment. I can’t bear to hear your excuses.”

She was speaking to Jane as if she were the queen and the older woman was a mere servant. If they were back in their first life, Jane would have honestly been impressed and might have made a comment about Joan being a wonderful monarch, but, right now, she was too stunned to say anything.

“Do you know the full extent of what I saw?” Joan asked. She’s dumbing the question down for Jane. “Do you understand what it was like for me? Hmm?”

Jane says nothing.

“ANSWER ME, LADY JANE!”

Like a bullwhip, Joan has her fist smashed down onto the table they’re standing next to, causing it to shudder treacherously. If such a violent action hurt her hand, she doesn’t show it. She just continues to stare at Jane, eyes like fragments of ice, and she knew the woman could feel the cold, congealing weight of her resentment.

“I don’t know.” Jane grits.

She doesn’t like this. She doesn’t like being put on a soapbox and made a mockery of by a lady in waiting, and that’s what Joan liked so much about the situation. She felt so empowered, and she wasn’t going to let that go just yet.

“Of course you don’t,” Joan snorted. She slowly raised her clenched fist from its spot on the table and a dark bruise was already forming in her pale skin, but she could hardly care. “I expect nothing less from someone so callous and cruel.”

She pressed her hands together, sliding the fingers in between one another, and her gaze grew startling patient. Perhaps it wasn’t patience, though- the emotion in her eyes was unreadable.

“You don’t know what I went through because you never stopped to care for just a moment.” She said, each word oozing with icy venom that chilled Jane to the bone. “And to think you call yourself the mother of the group...”

“Who do you think I am?” Jane growled.

“Who— Who do you think I AM?” Joan exclaimed, breathless. “You don’t know what I had to endure for you. Or for Anne. Or for Katherine.”

“Don’t bring them into this.” Jane warned.

“They’re in this just as much as you are, Jane.” Joan said lowly. “I watched you die. Do you know what that does to someone?”

She waited, but Jane offered no answer.

“It sticks with you.” Joan went on, “Dying is one thing. Watching it happen is a completely different horror, and it’s something all of you forget.”

Once again, she waited for Jane to say something, but the queen continued to just stand there with her jaw clenched and fingers tight fists at her side.

“I got to watch you slowly rot away, Jane.” Joan explained. “I got to watch you cry and scream and piss all over yourself because you were too weak to even control your own bladder.”

Something on Jane’s face twitched at that and she could see an embarrassed blush creeping up on her cheeks. It was about time. She deserved to have a taste of her own medicine she’s been indirectly force feeding Joan for months.

“I got to watch you drool and froth at the mouth like you had fucking rabies. I got to sit by your bedside and hold your freezing cold hand while you stared blankly with your face covered in spit and snot and tears and sweat. I got to listen to you howl and beg for your son for hours and you would onto get louder when you were turned down. I got to hear about how the nurses whispered about your oncoming death and I got to smell the infection setting into the tear from your vagina down to your rectum.”

Suddenly, Joan is starting to look a lot less like a ram and a lot more like a livid ice dragon. Her skin is plated with chilled silver scales, as tough and freezing cold as a hissing, fanged glacier. She has teeth like razor sharp icicles and eyes as frigid and uncaring as a winter wind. Her voice was thunderous enough to crack an entire iceberg in half.

The lamb she used to be was gone, gored beneath the serrated talons of the ice dragon.

“I was nineteen years old, Jane.” Joan said lowly. “You don’t recover from that.”

Then, she spun around and faced the beheaded cousins, who had been standing meekly with the others, none of them daring to get caught in the crossfire.

“But that’s not all,” She said. “I got to watch you both die, too. I watched a decapitation twice! And nobody fucking remembers or cares! Nobody even THINKS to ask if I was okay after having to carry your headless body because Maggie was crying too hard to do it herself,” She drilled icicles into Anne’s gut with her stare. “Or if I was recovering from watching you be put on display before your head came off.” She froze Kitty in place with her chilled tone. “Nobody ever cares! And I’m sick of it!”

She swung back around to Jane. The queen stares fearfully at her and she wonders if she really was slowly mutating into a monstrous ice creature before her.

“I’m sorry,”

The words came from behind Joan’s back and she couldn’t really pick out who exactly said it, but it wasn’t from anyone she wanted to hear it from.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” She said, not turning away from Jane. “Trust me on that.” She paused for just a moment, licked her lips (her tongue almost looked forked and dark blue), then said again, “I don’t want to hear it from you.”

Jane’s left leg twitched slightly. She sniffed, trying to gather up she dignity, but Joan was smashing it to the ground by just looking at her. And she hated it. She hated how powerless she felt under a fucking ex-lady in waiting.

“I’m sorry.” She finally said.

A ghost of a pleased smile appears on Joan’s pale lips.

“It’s good to hear, but I’m afraid you’re too late. The damage is done, Lady Jane.”

“Stop acting like this!” Jane suddenly snapped, raising her voice. “I get it- you’re upset! You’re mad! But this is not how to—”

“Acting?” Joan chortled cruelly. “You think this is some sort of act?! You really are as dumb as the historians say!”

Jane’s eyes resemble a bug’s for a moment- large, bulging, oh so very inferior and helpless. The ice dragon wants to crush her beneath its talons, feel her slimy guts oozing out the way a beetle’s would.

“It’s sad, I know, to be humiliated...” Joan hummed. “...to lose all feeling in the shame, but...I have not felt anything for a very long time.” Her eyes narrowed and her tone flicks stinging irritation into Jane’s face. “I’ll do anything necessary to be noticed and to have people become aware of me. I’ve been alone for too long.”

Jane doesn’t say anything. Her jaw is clenched tightly again. Joan tilts her head.

“It’s funny how you say I need to move on.” She said. “Because you wouldn’t say that to your precious Kitty, would you? About her getting her head chopped off? You wouldn’t tell her to move on from the trauma of that.”

Something new sparks in her cold, winter eyes- through all the hatred and anger and annoyance comes misery and pain.

“You wouldn’t tell Aragon to move on from her miscarriages. You wouldn’t tell Anne to move on from mourning Elizabeth or for Anna to move on from her survivor guilt. You would tell Cathy to move on from missing Mae. You would tell Maria to move on from the trauma of holding her queen in her arms as she died or Bessie to move on from the affair or Maggie to move on from losing her best friend.” Tears start to brim in Joan’s lower lashes. The emotions are welling up too high, even for her. “Nobody would tell you to move on from Edward. So why do you tell it to me?”

Nothing. Nobody answers.

Joan shakes her head with an anguished smile and the tears spill free. She laughed shakily, wiping a sluggish hand under one of her eyes.

“Shit!” She laughed. “I guess I really don’t mean anything, huh? Is this how little I mean to all of you?!”

She shakes her head again, the laughter dying off into weak, miserable noises.

“You know, Lady Jane, I always wondered what kind of person you really were. Well, now I got my answer: A selfish, cold hearted BITCH who never gave a shit about me!” Joan roared, and she anger just continued to build up until she was drowning herself in it. The ice dragon rears, half-frozen tears on its face, a dangerous freezing death breath streaming from its jaws as she cried, “Are you happy now? Huh? DOES THIS MAKE YOU HAPPY?!”

It’s only then that Jane realizes what she has done to the girl in front of her. The neglect, the lack of understanding, the blindness to the pain, the way she overlooked her and traded her out for Kitty- it’s been festering inside of Joan for so long.

All because of her.

“Joan,” Jane whispered. She takes a small step forward. She can’t see the ice dragon raise its icicle-like horns in a warning and growl lowly, staring down its long, pale, hooked snout at her cautiously. “Oh, Joan... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

This time, she means it.

Joan froze, like she was finally affected by her own black ice. She held perfectly still as Jane reached out and cupped her tear stained cheeks with her soft, warm hands. The touch of those hands was something Joan craved for so long.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jane murmured, feeling tears well up in her own eyes. “I should have realized, Joan. I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I didn’t see how much pain you were in.”

Of course she didn’t.

Jane felt Joan’s jaw grit beneath her hands and she tried to tighten her own grasp. She didn’t want her to pull away. She wanted to hold her.

“Joan-”

“No—”

“Joan, please-”

“No—!”

“Please, I—”

Wild fear fights through the snowstorm raging in Joan’s eyes. Joan grabs one of Jane’s hands and squeezes it, then raises her other one, but the movement was hardly a warning.

The force of the blow was so strong and so sudden it sent Jane careening backwards, tripping over her own feet until she unceremoniously fell onto her back in a way that would have made everyone laugh if it weren’t for the fact that she had just been slashed across the face. She sat up dazedly, pressing a hand to the four, fresh stinging marks in her flesh, which stretched from her temple, across her eye, and stopped just above her top lip, getting the side of her nose and part of her cheek damaged in the process. They are already practically glowing neon red and lazily oozing blood in several different areas. When she looks up, she finally sees the arctic beast staring at her from Joan’s tear-filled eyes.

“I gave you your chance,” Hissed the dragon. “And now I’m taking it back.”

It— they— she— the beast strides past Jane and towards the door, spiked tail swinging dangerously towards the queen’s already-wounded face. Its shuddering moon silver wings give off waves of terrible chills as it grasps the doorknob with trembling claws that are flecked with blood and skin.

“You can find someone else to lead rehearsals today.” It— they— the beast- dragon— she said. “I’m done.”

The door yanks open. The mane of icicle horns bristle and ears flatten backwards. Talons scrape against the floor and leave marks in the tile. Hints of frostbreath hiss from in between razor teeth.

“Oh, and thanks for nothing.”

It slams shut.

The dragon is gone.

[eyeslikefoxglove]

Episode 14 - WangXian are a (v soft) Battle Couple & Foxglove is hella mad

Hi! Welcome to episode 14. I should be studying. It’s day two of morning runs, so my soul has left my body already, send help. Yesterday I went to buy plants with my mum and got so excited I just whacked on a bunch of eyeshadow because I haven’t seen the outside in weeks, I’m also wearing makeup today, because I have nowhere to go, but I really need to finish this bb cream before it goes bad, so my parents are getting my full fresh faced “woke up like this and put on mascara” routine (which is a fucking lie because I’m wearing at least three blushes and two highlighters). I’m determined to get this bitch down in under five minutes so I can have another five to do eyeshadow, I have way too much eyeshadow to not wear it (I have way too much everything except maybe mascara and eyebrow stuff).

Yes, if y’all were wondering I am in fact a makeup magpie. ANYWAY BACK TO THE ACTUAL THING WE ALL CAME HERE FOR.

(Btw further down I discuss once again how shitty I think the Yunmeng sibs’ parents are if that causes an issue for you)

Ok ok ok, so I was talking with damnpoe-2187 here about how we found that sometimes WWX crossed from gremlin into asshole when he tried to get LWJ riled up. Like in the Cold Springs, putting our shippers hearts aside, that was a dick move and he should have stopped undressing the second LWJ went from annoyed to incredibly uncomfortable. I find this scene the complete opposite, a show of character development if you will. It is kind of similar in that they’re both hurt, and alone (although this time is much more serious) and there was some undressing going on; however WWX here behaves like a fool in love considerate person and knowing how uncomfortable LWJ already is tries to make it easier for him. They’re also super soft and I’m weak.

A brief interlude from my one track mind: That pond is full of corpses isn’t it? Or at least the remnants of the Murder Turtle’s meals I suppose. Damn right WWX should not have gone into the water with an open wound, but think no one should go swimming in there without a full hazmat suit tbh (I want to pump them full of antibiotics at this point ngl)

So I love this tiny montage (is it even a montage) of the, getting themselves ready to kill the Murder Turtle.

Teamwooooooork.

Listen, I have read a few fics in which their mind-meld stays in place due to reasons and I need me more of those.

Ok, turtles don’t work that way, but then again, giant murder snake-Trex-turtle so that’s low on my list of priorities. What’s not low is the fact that this guy is knee deep into pretty much a mass grave and I want to take a few showers just watching him.

Yeah, I know exactly what he’s smelling and suddenly I hope I don’t have meat for lunch today tbh.

The screaming sword has always been fucking creepy and does LWJ’s fist clench mean that he’s also hearing them?

BATTLE COUPLE! BATTLE COUPLE! BATTLE COUPLE!

So I know killing the thing took them something like six hours. And while it feels quite a long time in the show, I think that, if they cut the scene with idk, JC running towards Lotus Pier, then back to them, then back to JC, but now the sun is in a different position, back to them, but now the blood from LWJ’s hand has dripped down his arm; and so on a so forth it’d convey more clearly how long it took for the Murder Turtle to die. I know fuck all about cinematography tho so feel free to ignore all this if it is in fact an abomination.

Tiiiiiiny interlude here to say that Yiling Patriarch!WWX is probably one of my favourite character archetypes. He’s slightly creepy, slightly amoral (smiling while torturing and murdering bad guys is still amoral ok), more than a bit on the Dark Side, cocky, smirky, a bit of an asshole a BAMF, a rebel with cause and yet he will still do the right thing, not despite his nature, but because of it. He’s kind of like a Chipped Spike? But you know, he doesn’t need electroshock to behave.

I just want a fic where he’s this Dark Lord of Evil in everyone’s eyes however the ‘good guys’ take a break from trying to off him because a bigger threat just popped up and they have no choice but to ask for his help. He agrees, keeps being his charming self while also saving everyone’s asses, LWJ is smitten.

TL;DR: The Necromancer is hot. Oh and nobody dare deny LWJ has a Yiling Patriarch kink.

Oh my, this is the part when I always get teary eyed.

WUJI ON A CELLO? DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?

“Why hasn’t Jiang Cheng shown up and rescued me yet?” THIS IS ALL THE PROOF I NEED THAT WWX IS THE BABY SIBLING.

“Lan Zhan sing me a song”

IT IS HAPPENING, STAY FUCKING CALM EVERYBODY (I’m crying)

That slideshow of their best moments set to WuJi is a masterpiece, and also, it kind of drives home the point of “how tf did we go from flirting during summer camp to this mess”?

(Btw if that’s YiBo humming he’s got one hell of a deep voice)

Ok ok ok, so this moment had me spitting up my tea the first time I watched it. Believe it or not my dumbass thought these people were actually serious with the censorship and we’d get scraps of their actual relationship. Lots of charged moments like in some other western tv shows I’ve seen when two dudes have chemistry but “they’re not gay”, no longing glances, no tender touches, no being unbelievably soft with each other; just you know, amped up, because if I’m not mistaken you can be arrested in China for “promoting the gay”. I mean, they changed the beginning when people insult MXY’s sexuality to insulting his mental health; no one would think “ah yes, the gays are good” when they hear it used as a slur, but they still erased it completely. One of the things I thought they’d fully take away was WangXian, I mean, the into/outro is named Wuji, which, you know, still a mishmash of their names, but not their ship name. It is such a significant part of the story with all the “what’s the song name? Figure it out yourself” that if something were going to give away that they’re married with a kid it would be that. I thought we’d get an artful fade to black BEFORE LWJ would say the name not after. And also, YiBo is enunciating it so clearly that, even with the sound muffled and the blurriness I, who don’t speak Chinese, can make out the two syllables. That’s deliberate, I can say “WangXian” loud and clear without moving my lips too much. At this point in time I must assume someone in charge of looking for censorship violations in the show is a fan and just ignored it.

Censorship person 1: dude, isn’t that a bit too gay, maybe you shouldn’t greenlight it.

Censorship person 2: shut the fuck up, sit here and watch.

*a full rundown of the whole of CQL later*

Censorship person 1: oh my god they’re so in love and they deserve to be happy.

Back to the commentary: I’m sorry but I have a mighty need of a WWX & Peacock friendship ok? This might be me just wanting WWX and LWJ to make other friends besides each other but I think that the Peacock is just bitchy enough to not take any of WWX’s bullshit.

And the Yunmeng bros timing for banter strikes yet again.

That’s terrible quality fake blood btw.

@ Yunmeng disciples: STOP SHOOTING FUCKING KITES PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Oooof even with a change of clothes our boy is still looking rough as hell.

MY LOVELY YUNMENG SIBS BEING SOFT AND HAPPY WITH EACH OTHER.

It hurts my soul that the second JFM starts praising WWX for surviving the Murder Turtle our boy’s knee-jerk reaction is to start praising JC in return. It is instinctive, how many times must this have happened for him to know his brother won’t even get scraps of praise? (Seriously fuck their parents)

It was going so well, I mean, JFM had a point warning him to not say things in anger. But I thought he was going to tell him that it is because sometimes he’ll hurt someone without wanting to, yet, this asshole decided to, once again, remind his kid he thinks he’s a failure.

And here comes Mme Yu who I can only assume had a servant posted at the door to warn her when WWX woke so she could throw some verbal abuse at him. I mean, she must have been missing it.

And JFM’s misogynistic bullshit strikes once again, because why defend ALL your kids when you can insult your wife.

(Every time someone berates WWX for “intervening” I want to scream. I mean, seeing this I can believe why the society as a whole thought genocide was a good idea.)

I love how they use their kids as props in their fight, I mean it’s not like they have feelings or anything. This woman is gaslight-y as hell too “you don’t love your kid because I gave birth to him”, you can’t tell me saying that in front of the son she’s supposed to love isn’t going to hurt him. And she knows it, I mean, besides the Wen attack I’ve never seen her hit the kids (although I very much doubt she hasn’t), so a good part of the abuse must be verbal. There’s no fucking way a person who regularly uses words that way won’t realise where she’s aiming those arrows. Which means to her (to both) the kids are collateral.

But FR, the barely-out-of-adolescence disaster bi necromancer PTSDing all over the place and living in a mass grave was a better parent than any of the current adults in this thing.

Which brings me to another point, Shijie is textbook “the oldest sibling is just another parent” and I’m making myself very angry.

[this is when I start frothing at the mouth and itching to write a modern-girl(and friends)-dropped-in-CQL because someone has to be a positive adult influence in these kids’ lives and it sure as shit ain’t the ones in the actual show.]

CAN WE STOP BRINGING PEOPLE’S DEAD PARENTS INTO THE FIGHT?

*deep breath*

I am going to feed JFM & Mme Yu each other’s spleens. Look, listen, look and listen, let’s first talk about how calmly they lay out the facts of their lives, one is only loved because he’s been brought up in the shadow of his dead parents, the other knows with certainty his father dislikes him and his mother uses him as leverage in marital disputes. When have these two not exploded their emotions all over the place? Fucking never. Yet here they are, talking about this bullshit like some bout of inconvenient weather. They’re used to it!

And now let’s talk about yet again siblings-are-just-extra-parents, with an added pile of WWX’s terrible self awareness that, to the man who brought him up, his worth is due to his dead parents. Again I’m extrapolating, but with the amount of times Mme Yu brings up his parents in such a negative light I refuse to believe JFM hasn’t made all the “you’re so much like your parents” comments to him every time WWX does something right. I mean, telling an orphan about their parents if they ask is a good thing, but WWX seems starved for stories about his them, which leads me to believe JFM refuses to talk about the topic except to make those little comments. What a fucking stellar way to give someone all the trauma if you ask me. May also explain a lot of WWX’s self worth issues if the biggest praise he’s ever heard is that he resembles dead people, yes, people who were loved, but they’re dead, and it doesn’t look like any adult has bothered to go and differentiate WWX from ZSSR&WCZ.

I’m just really mad, despite all the silly anecdotes I put in here my parents are fucking great at parenting, so I know what good parents should look like, and this ain’t it.

Ok, so I made myself angry and I don’t know if I should move onto the next episode now or wait till tomorrow but thanks for reading!

[prorevenge]

Sometimes calm understanding and patience is the best way to destroy people.

Ok, so a wee bit of backstory. Way back in the early 2000s We moved a full state over, this was big for me because we moved a lot but it was always just one or two cities over, I had never left my home state before. But this new home was great and my family has been there ever since. Now I was 14 at the time and all the kids around were 10 or so, so there was no one my age to hang out with. So in the end I just stayed with these kids and there was a surprising amount of culture shock. I was raised WAY more conservatively and was a lot more durable yet reserved. As the years passed I ended up being the neighborhood babysitter. It was odd for me as I was an enormous young man. I'm currently Six foot seven and I was very awkward growing up. But I don't have many non fond memories of my childhood and younger friends.

It wasn't all fun but it was decent. But I left for the navy and I had this interesting encounter when I came back after a year or so on what ended up being literally my only military leave.

Most of my friends were all adults now or almost that, but I still got asked to baby sit at least their younger siblings and generally keep them out of trouble. I was basically just there to make sure the little ones didn't run out in front of cars or play with matches. My best friend whom I will just call Mark for now was there with me, he was a tall skinny black guy who I absolutely loved to match wits with. Still do to this day, one of the only people who can challenge me intellectually, but he has a bit of a rough background with his family, this is important later.

So, that fateful day, I was up and about, mostly catching up with my friends and talking to them about basic and my first year or so at my command which was in japan so it was pretty popular topic. I only vaguely had to intervene with the younger kids and get them to calm down or stop something.

Now, enter the Entitled kid and Entitled mom EK and EM. I had been gone for about two years, and almost the same week I had left, this new family had moved in, so they got to know everyone but me. But I had been there for years before her and everyone else in the neighborhood trusted me explicitly as they knew me very well.

As I talked with my friends I noticed some new faces, but mostly EK. I inquired Mark but he just said it was some kid from a family that moved in just after I left.

Everything seemed fine until I heard a hefty clunk and clatter, I turned to see a softball sized rock clattering across the culdesac. I look in the opposite direction the rock is rolling and I see EK pick up another and hurl it at the head of Mark's younger brother then reach for another.

Apparently this was EK's idea of what 'playing' was.

I very quickly rushed over snatching the rock from him and very sternly told him he could hurt or even kill someone if he tried to play like that. I didn't know him or his family so I didn't bother doing or saying anything else, until I turned around and started back to Mark, I saw him waving and a rock bounced off my back. Granted, I'm six foot seven and 300 lbs so it's not like it was going to kill me, but still I turned around and glared at the little twat jabbing my finger near violently to the end of the street very clearly and aggressively saying. "Go home now!"

He took off like the devil was chasing him and I figured it was over. But you know how this works.

Two minutes later this shaved gorilla looking middle aged woman came strutting up the street with EK in tow.

She came marching right up to me practically frothing at the mouth. Though for the past two years I have had everything from First class petty officers to Master chiefs screaming in my face. So while she looked to have some weight on her and expected the world to cower when she went all momma bear, I remained upright and towered over her when she came to confront me. My refusal to step back appeared to mildly prompt her to not get all too close. Still, the REEEEEE off of her was strong.

EM practically perforated my eardrums with her. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CHILD?!?!"

I calmly responded "Ma'am, he was throwing rocks at the other kids, I told him to stop, and he threw rocks at me so I told him to go home."

About this time I noticed Mark shaking his head, clearly this was a woman who had a reputation. Regardless, Mark came to my side trying to confirm my story. But the shrieking continued.

"NO!!! YOU ABUSED MY CHILD! HE'S GOT RED MARKS ON HIS ARM!!!"

I looked over at the kid who seemed to not only be perfectly fine but straight up gleeful at his mother who was flailing and frothing at me.

I sighed and just again calmly spoke. "Ma'am, I didn't touch him, you can ask literally everyone present."

And again. "NO! I KNOW THESE KIDS, THEY ALL ARE LIARS AND THIEVES, ESPECIALLY HIM!" She threw an accusing finger at Mark, and honestly despite having seen a bit of the world, it took me a bit back when I heard her spew. "YOU CAN'T TRUST THEIR KIND!"

I didn't know exactly what she was meaning as it just came out bad sounding very racist, I don't know if she was just spouting off some crazy shit or what but she just kept on frothing.

She went on about how her little angel would never hurt anyone or anything and so on, talking about the imaginary red marks on his arm, but then it came out.

"AND YOU! HOW OLD ARE YOU? WHAT IS SOMEONE YOUR AGE DOING WITH CHILDREN YOU CREEP! I'M CALLING THE POLICE!"

I sighed loudly and just told her "Go ahead, you'll find this isn't going to go your way."

She made a few gorilla noises which I think were supposed to be words before she turned from my unflinching face and to Mark and started tearing into him and his family trying to tell him that he had some sort of "darkness" in him and how it's in his whole family, some pseudo religious evil spirit garbage before I had finally had enough.

I turned about gesturing for all the kids to go into one of the houses. "Aye, let's just leave, she's not thinking straight, let's just let whoever comes to figure this out deal with it."

She growled and made more gorilla noises before turning around. Mark said something along the lines of 'we shouldn't have to leave because of her.'

But I calmly reminded her. "She doesn't know me, if your brother came to you and said some stranger was hitting him or whatever, your rage would overwhelm your trust of a complete stranger too." I left out any mentions of gorilla noises and frothing at the mouth as Mark was clearly above that.

However, EM whipped about and screamed at me. "IF YOU'RE GOING TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT ME SAY IT TO MY FACE."

To which, I turned around and repeated the exact same thing to her clarifying that despite the fact that she was acting incredibly aggressive and was in the wrong, it was at least understandable.

She grunted more and stormed off with EK in tow.

It wasn't until a few days later when the story had circulated around the neighborhood from both sides.

EM seemed to change her mind on calling the police, instead she went around to the other houses and tried to tell the story about a "creepy evil child abuser"

However, as I stated, everyone knew me, not only that but in small towns, when someone goes off to join the military... well to put it simply not only did all these other adults know me pretty well, but my joining the military kinda put me into a state of pseudo sainthood.

Then all the kids told their side of the story and what ended up happening is a severe alienation of EM. The small town believed me and the kids and this shaved gorilla was not only calling into question my integrity but implying I was a pedophile. It was almost instant.

The third day EM came to me and made a very VERY thorough apology. I recommended her to apologize to Mark and his family too which I think she did.

But it appeared as though a simply "I'm sorry" Wasn't enough. Just a month or so after I went back to my ship, I got an email letting me know that EM and her family moved out, apparently the neighborhood was a bit EXTREMELY zealous in my defense and she became priority target for petty revenge. Every time EK came out to play, all the neighborhood kids were told to come inside as the neighborhood was VERY vocal about how they didn't trust their kids around EK or EM.

She tried to paint me as the villain and ended up completely obliterating her own standing in our town instead.

(source) story by (/u/Laffett)

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapters 220 & 221 - I am the bear.

I finally have a bit of a break from work and have some time off to catch up on stuff.  As I had hypothesized in 219, I was pretty damn sure that Heita was the bear, the wen kamuy.  Chapter 220 starts off with Asirpa trying to find the bear bum that Shiraishi and Sugimoto had seen.  Sugimoto thinks that because they royally screwed up they are being punished by the white bear.

Asirpa meanwhile is just looking at him sternly while he sweats a little with stress lines under his eyes.

The next page is great as Asirpa calls Sugimoto out on his lazy cultural appropriation.  She flat out tells him that using the “excuse” of a kamuy instead of taking the time to think is inappropriate.  I love the framing of this shot, she looks in control, like a leader, yet not a harsh leader.

She follows up the idea of not thinking with the observation that there is no bear as there are no bear tracks.

Sugimoto then orders Shiraishi to find Vasily, though in English Vasily is referred to as “hood guy” implying that Sugimoto is too good to bother to learn his actual name.  Vasily is helping them and yes, he is the enemy of my enemy (Ogata) is my friend sort of situation, but Sugimoto is supposed to be “friendly”.  Not friendly enough to learn the name of a Russian soldier though.  I sense this will come back to cause problems in the future.  Sugimoto is clearly doing is best to other and dehumanize Vasily since if he knew his name then he’d have to more actively face his PTSD etc.  I digress.

The action then returns to Heita finding his Dad and younger brother in a bear snow mound dead.  He hears his brother chanting the Pure Land Buddhist chant, in hopes for salvation upon death into the after life.  There are a serious of several graphic panels of the bear killing Taka as his head gets smashed by the bear paw.  He finds the sexy woman of the group, Noriko and in the stress of watching her boyfriend, die, Heita tries to make out with her as she stops him right as the bear claws her face.

He manages to escape and runs into Sugimoto and Asirpa.  I really love the detail between what Asirpa and Sugimoto observe and “Heitavision”.  When he  runs into Sugimoto, you can see that his face is clean, while the very next panel has smeared blood on Heita’s face as he tells them to run.  Sugimoto with out missing a beat tells him, that we will protect you as he asks where the bear is.

Heita replies that it is not possible as the next page reveals him looking super creepy.  The bear is going to eat him.  It will happen.  He also add is that you [Sugimoto & Asirpa] need to get far away fro him.  Asirpa calmly asks him for clarification.  As Heita names the people killed, Shiraishi has reached Vasily.

Shiraishi also calls him “hood guy” (hoodie-chan in Japanese, par for the course with his habit of calling everyone name-chan, save for Sugimoto).  I can understand Shiraishi othering him since he did shoot him in the leg.  Vasily is furiously sketching!  Look at those eyes!

To build up the suspense, the action returns to Asirpa and Sugimoto with Heita as he explains everyone was eaten and Sugimoto finally realizes that something is off and he asks Heita who these people are that he’d been talking about as Heita looks like he’s in a daze.

Shiraishi is ignored by Vasily as he looks over his shoulder and has a look of panic on his face as he sees his sketch.  It is a great page turn reveal as it is like BAM!  Guess what, Heita was a convict from Abashiri with a tattoo, striking a sexy pose.

What is even better, is that when it shows the flashback (indicated by the black background) all of the faces have his eyes and eyebrows.  This is the visual confirmation that all of these people were/are a part of Heita and his mind has killed them.  It them makes his weird licky/making out face as he watched Taka and Noriko make more sense - he was making out with himself in the air.

Asirpa then in a very matter of fact fashion points out that the item that Heita is carrying in his cloth is a brow bear pelt.  Even though Asirpa is clearly much shorter than Heita, the framing and angle of this shot makes her look like the wisest and most mature of the three of them.  I get a feeling of not quite judgement from her, more like the clarity of a third party observer who has to clearly state the facts.  Her pointing with her index finger adds weight to her observation.

Heita then is complete shot as he feels as though he is being haunted by it, despite disposing of it many times over.  Sugimoto begins to look concerned as he sweats as he points out that Heita was carrying it like it as a precious item, not something he’d want to dispose of.  Asirpa puts all of the pieces together, the bear bum that Sugimoto and Shiraishi saw was Heita wearing the pelt.  I have to admit that I love how the pelt expands and rips the cloth as it unfurls in front of Heita as he sees it grow into the wen kamuy with his eyes before him. Asirpa concludes that this wen kamuy is in Heita’s mind only and it isn’t actually a real wen kamuy.

The wen kamuy stands before Heita on the ripped cloth at its feet.  This is a great panel, I’m not keen on this story arc, but this 100% gets the point across so damn well.  The next few pages are a mix of “Heitavision” and what Sugimoto and Asirpa see as the bear ‘kills’ him and he crawls under the pelt before he stands becoming the wen kamuy.

He then attacks Sugimoto with his front paw and as Sugimoto goes to block he breaks his left wrist!  The chapter ends with Heita frothing at the mouth as he goes “bwooooooooh!” which is the sound effect for bears in GK.

Sugimoto has clearly been caught off guard!  He needs to stop being so relaxed around former convicts, now he’s gonna have to get a cast and rest his left wrist so that it can heal, but first he’s gonna have to survive Heita.

Chapter 221 is the “bear man” and we get Heita’s backstory from Kadokura!  Where have you been awkward old man?  Whatever, I’m just glad to see that Kadokura and Kirawus are back in the mix.

Kadokura reveals his full name to be Heita Matsuda and he was a death row prisoner.  Kirawus is relaxing in the background as he listens to the story as Kadokura is clearly a bit tipsy, he’s got a bit of a flush going on as he looks a little distant.

Kadokura remembers a lot of details about him, since he was a unique prisoner.  He would constantly change the way he talked, using different forms of “I” to indicate how he wanted to present himself, including talking as though he were a sexy woman [Noriko].  This is easier to do in Japanese as depending on the speaker, it would be watashi, boku, ore etc . . . giving more info to a Japanese reader as English lacks an equivalent.  The best way to think about this was in the movie “Your Name” when the characters body swap, they have to figure out which form of I to use when speaking about themselves.

Anyways, Kadokura states that Heita once told him that he has a lot of people inside of him and they switch places; this is likely an indication that he’s suffering from multiple personality disorder.  I had originally thought these people were his victims, and maybe they were, but since he stated that they are inside of him, I’m more inclined to think that they are all Heita and his victims are not a part of his mental illness.  The fact that Noda re-drew them with his eyes and eyebrows makes me think that they are a part of him.

Heita was always terrified, even in prison as he said there was a brown bear always outside of his cell and it was waiting to eat him.  Kadokura states that Heita called it a “what-cha-ma-call-it” kamuy, implying he didn’t put a lot of effort into remember exactly what he said.  He had to add in the fact that it was an evil got that ate people so Kirawus has some context.  Kirawus then corrects Kadokura that it is a wen kamuy. . . his facial expression looks so over Kadokura.

Poor Kirawus, he’s clearly a smart guy stuck with a drunken loser like Kadokura.  Though, I really get the feeling that Kadokura is the type of man who plays dumb so he can get further along in life.  I think Kirawus just needs to hang out and work with someone a little more exciting and I’m curious if Kirawus has talked to Hijikata a lot or if he has been forced to interact with Kadokura as the go between and he’d prefer to have more access to Hijikata.

I honestly think Hijikata is keeping Kirawus at a distance, he didn’t trust Wilk, he didn’t trust Kiro and I really have a feeling that Kirawus knows a lot more than he’s let on (I wrote a meta about this awhile ago).  I think that even though Hijikata says he needs the help of the Ainu for his plan to work (which Tsurumi has pointed out is a ‘flaw’ about his plan) Hijikata has shown absolutely no trust in any of his Ainu partners as Ariko/Ipopote is a literal pawn between him and Tsurumi.  Additionally, it shows that HIjikata has been really crap at figuring out how to work with them, he never learned Wilk’s name nor did he learn Kiro’s real name.  Hijikata is just going through the motions of the logistics in his quest for the gold.

Kadokura then explains that Heita’s people in his head are slowly killed off by the wen kamuy, he then is killed by it, he becomes it and eventually he kills a person in the real world.  Once that happens his body explodes and he returns to normal.

Kirawus explains that the body exploding is based on how some Ainu groups treat wen kamuy.  They cut the wen kamuy into small pieces and scatter is about the landscape.  While they do this, they also lecture the kamuy about what it has done and that it needs to change its actions.

Unfortunately, when Heita “explodes” he doesn’t get lectured so that is likely why he isn’t able to learn and heal from his mistake of killing people.

It is also indicated that since Heita lacked the bear pelt in jail, he was safe since the wen kamuy couldn’t kill him and he didn’t become it.  He also revealed that he ended up with all of these tattoos over his body and he didn’t even know where they came from.  I wonder if one of his personalities agreed to being tattooed and was hiding it from the others?

Either way, at some point in time he shared a cell with Wilk. Kadokura ends with the fact that he was arrested over a victim’s body wearing a bear pelt and he had torn apart the body and it is heavily implied he had eaten part of him.  It is also clear that he had likely done this before but wasn’t caught.

The action returns to Sugimoto, hitting him with his rifle as Heita tries to bite through his winter coat.  The two of them roll off an embankment into a tree as Shiraishi catches up with the picture of Heita in his hand.  No Vasily though, I guess he grabbed the sketch and ran?

Sugimoto’s rifle is caught in the tree and he and Heita are grappling on the ground as he only has his right hand to fight back.  As the bear, Heita is trying to scratch through Sugimoto’s clothing, likely thinking his has claws.  Sugimoto is in shock a the power Heita has and he knows this is going to be a tough fight.

But Sugimoto is able to push him back with his foot and as the bear roars his eyes go white (about to kill) and he pulls out his trusty bayonet and stabs him repeatedly.

As Heita regains control of his self, his hand emerges from the bear and trips an amappo.  It looks like it is about to hit Sugimoto and he leans on top of him so that it instead will kill him.  Heita by grabbing onto Sugimoto is able to take the hit instead.

Heita is happy and relieved that Sugimoto fought back so well.  He lead them to the amappo so that the wen kamuy wouldn’t know that he was tricking it.  He goes onto explain that as a child he learned about wen kamuy and the idea of them terrified him.  He then became a gold prospector and his family wasted all of the money he earned.  Their greed became too much for him and he hoped that their greed would result in some sort of divine punishment.

He states that the wen kamuy killed his family.  I am still unsure if his family are represented by the personalities or he was just using those people in his head as the stand in for them.  The wen kamuy then ate him and then he became a wen kamuy.  The framing of the next shot is interesting.  Asirpa stands over his head almost deadpan.  Shiraishi is very upset as you can tell he’s trying to hold back his tears.  Sugimoto is sitting down cross legged cradling his broken wrist, his eyes obscured.

Sugimoto looks very emotional as he gazes down over his body.  This is a soft Sugimoto, we can see the light and sparkle in his eyes as he looks quite sad and distraught.  I wonder if Sugimoto is thinking of himself when he fights?  Keep in mind that he’s referred to as being a demon and not human when he fights.  Tsurumi was able to recognize him as a result of his demonic fighting style.

Heita thanks him for allowing him to die.  And he then dies as he lays on the snow before them.  This then becomes an educational warning moment for Asirpa to Sugimoto.  She explains that when a wen kamuy kills someone, they rationalize it by the kamuy liking that person and taking them away with them.  However, the wen kamuy is not out to punish people, and Heita did not understand the story, instead he adapted it to his Japanese mindset.  Therefore, he produced an incorrect wen kamuy in himself, creating a flawed monster.

She has such a look of wisdom as she concludes that it is important that information is passed down with accuracy, if it becomes corrupted, bad things will happen.  This is a strong warning to Sugimoto to not cherry pick Ainu beliefs and customs and to place them in his own Japanese cultural context.  He too thought that the wen kamuy of Heita is karmic payback for what they did to the white bear. 

I find it curious that Sugimoto instead ignores her statement and instead wonders if he became the wen kamuy in the process of looking for gold?  This then leads to the dramatic final panel of the major parties in the quest for the gold and the idea that it is driving everyone to madness.

The game is afoot.  Each group is around Hokkaido. 

Ogata is leaving Nagakura’s relative’s house where Hijikata was working out of for some time as shown in chapter 20.  I’m going to guess no one was at Nagakura’s place as Ogata seems to be leaving it rather pleased.  He’s got his happy cat face on.  Seeing that Hijikata robbed the bank and had weapons stored there, Ogata grabbed some cash and clips for the type 30/38 he has.

The major question is if anyone was around - Kadokura is with Kirawus somewhere, likely near Kirawus’ kotan, Hijikata was near Noboribetsu with Kantarou and Nagakura. 

Hijikata is currently shown on a street in Otaru, matching this one from chapter 98.  Not sure why he’s in Otaru, likely waiting for Asirpa to head back home since her grandma and her home kotan are close by.

Lastly, Tsurumi appears to be in Barato, by looking at the mountain ridge line with houses in the foreground from chapter 59 most clearly.

Why Tsurumi is in Barato is interesting - I wonder if he’s looking for witnesses from the shoot out and for information about the skin that Hijikata got from Ogata? 

It looks like the factions are closing in on Asirpa’s kotan and the area where the gold is supposed to be.  Recall that Wilk was caught when his canoe capsized on Lake Shikotsu, and it is a rumor that he had some gold with him to make it sound more reasonable.

But there is the oral story that Huci explains about why there is so much gold in the first place.  The collection of gold, polluted the rivers and the salmon were not doing their runs.  As the salmon were essential to survival the Ainu leaders had to decide what to do.

All of the gold was put in one place and hidden so that people wouldn’t fight over it and it was also agreed to stop collecting it for the salmon.  There was a moratorium on speaking about the gold and eventually each village had only a single elder who knew of the gold.  The overall concept was that the gold should eventually become forgetten.

This was how they figured out the amount of gold is much more than what Wilk told the tattooed prisoners. With everyone back in the area of Otaru it is clear that the parties are starting to look for intel toward the gold.

Lastly, this shows that there are 4 factions; 1). Asirpa and Sugimoto, 2.) Tsurumi, 3.) Hijikata and 4.) Ogata. 

I think this fits in with the chapter 201 title page and Ogata will act as his own faction.  I’m curious to see if he continues to be a solo wildcat or if he will emerge to lead others?

Is Tanigaki going to team up with Koito and Tsukishima?  Will these guys end up working under Ogata?  Sugimoto and Tsurumi are rivals.  Asirpa and Sofia are likely to become allies.  Hijikata had Shiraishi working with him before, will he be forced to work for him again?  I really wonder if Ogata will take advantage of commanding Koito and Tsukishima as Koito is now in doubt of Tsurumi and Tanigaki refused to follow Kikuta’s orders.  Will another rebel group form in the 27th? 

Whatever happens - Ogata’s emergence as a leader will continue to make things interesting.  There is too much evidence now that he’s playing his own long game.  Whatever it is.

[nightsinsilverlake]

The Return of Diane Foley: I’m Not Dead Yet: Explaining My Disappearance: Part 3: The Epic Conclusion: Terminating the Fab Five

Well, folks, we have made it to the epic conclusion of my journey. The past 4 years of my life- all of the rigorous training, the deceits and lies I was forced to put you all through, and the fate of the world- all led to this moment.

Charlotte dropped me off in her Lamborghini in the middle of downtown Atlanta (aka Hotlanta), where the Fab Five’s headquarters are stationed. It is in this lab that they have planned their dastardly deeds of brainwashing victims into becoming soulless gay henchmen of the apocalypse. They already have two seasons worth of evil gay soldiers. Before long, the whole world would be on the brink of collapse.

Charlotte’s lambo she dropped me off in. Very sexy car

I was wearing my sexy spy outfit that Charlotte had provided me: a short leather black onesie (that really showed off my best ASSets), and matching black leather gladiator sandals. I zipped the chest zipper down to my navel to show off my large and supple Teetas. There was no man, gay or not, who could resist taking a long gander at these bad boys. It was these little moments of distraction that could be the difference between success and failure.  

My spy outfit - durable, athletic, and irresistible.

Charlotte dropped me off directly in front of their gay lair.

“It’s okay,” she spoke softly, but sternly. “They would never suspect a woman to attack them in broad daylight.”

She planted a big, wet smooch right on my lips. I felt a horny shiver run through my body.

“Thank you for all that you have taught me, master. I will never forget you.”

I hopped out of her car and quickly ascended the 20 story glass luxury apartment building. I landed on their beautiful porch, outside of the top floor loft, quiet as a mouse. I checked my surroundings: no gays to be seen. But then I spotted them through their glass window- in the living room, drinking Michelob Ultra, enjoying a hummus dip, laughing.

The Fab Five’s evil lair was in this building - very state of the art.

“Disgusting,” I mutter. “Laughing as the world burns.”

Then I made a decision: no more Mr. Nice Woman. I karate kicked their glass door as hard as I could, shattering it into a million pieces. “HI YA!!!!” I scream.

The Fab Five all shrieked and turned around to see what the commotion was.

“Uhm, excuse me, this is a private party!” Tan screamed.

“I know the truth about you… the NOT-SO-Fab-Five! I know you have been crafted in a Facebook science lab by our evil overlord Mark Zuckerberg, created to destroy the very fabric of our society from the inside out! None of your hummus treats or kind words will convince me otherwise!”

With this, the boys sprang into action. Karamo picked Tan up and hurled him as hard as he could at my face, with Tan’s foot extended into a perfect point. I reacted quickly, grabbing Tan’s foot and using the momentum the throw him into the wall, rendering him unconscious.

evil.

JVN gasped. “Wait, Diane, please…”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!”

“You were actually next on our list for makeovers. You are in such desperate need for a total life reimagining. We were literally planning on our trip to come see you now.”

Okay, then I’d really had it. Me, in desperate need of a makeover!? I think the fuck not.

“You know what, JVN? You’re right. And to show my gratitude, I’ve prepared a beautiful spinach-artichoke-low-fat-cream cheese-buffalo chicken-bean-queso-greek yogurt-ranch-Frank’s hot sauce-blue cheese-Vienna sausage Dip for you all. It’s my mother’s special recipe.”

My delicious dip. Doesn’t get much better than this.

“Wow, that sounds delicious, very innovative Diane,” Antoni said, cool as a cucumber.

“Excelllent,” I purr. “Why don’t you and JVN have a bite?” I grab two Tostito scoop chips from my bosom and prepare two sumptuous bites for the gays. They approached me with watering mouths and wrapped their lips around my delicious dip.

“mMMMmmMM,” they said in unison. I started laughing maniacally, knowing my plan had succeeded. Within seconds, JVN and Antoni were frothing at the mouth, excreting bean juice, and seizing. Another minute went by and the evil makeover consultants were dead.

“YOU POISONED THEM!” Karamo screamed, horrified.

“Ya… I know. You lot are lucky that I have spared you.” I replied.

Tan’s eyes began to flutter open. “But… Diane… Why spare us? You are clearly powerful enough to finish all of us off…”

“Excellent point, Tan. I have spared you because I am a merciful woman. I know that Antoni and JVN were the most evil and unforgiving members of the fab five. I thought, if I could only terminate the two most evil leaders, then maybe there would be a chance for the rest of you. I value life, after all. I’m a pacifist.”

“Wow… Diane… You are so kind….” Bobby cried.

“But DON’T think you’re getting away scot-free. You still must be punished for your despicable crimes. You have a choice. Live out the rest of your days as modest Iowan farmers, and on the weekends working in retail in the Macy’s perfume department, spraying old ladies with celeb fragrances until the day you die. Marry a nice local and have 7-12 children with her. Live a simple and honest life. And never speak of the Fab Five again.”

where the surviving fab five members will be banished.

Tan cried out, “I WILL DIE BEFORE I GO BACK TO RETAIL!!!!” He rushed over to my delicious dip and shoveled the rest of the bowl in his mouth, looking like a depraved raccoon. Within seconds he was dead.

Karamo and Bobby didn’t speak a word, knowing that they had no choice in the matter. Within a day’s time, they would be on the farm, shoveling horse shit and spraying perfume on old people at night. But the world was saved. All thanks to me.

So now I’m back in my Silver Lake apartment, relaxing in a candle-lit bubble bath, smoking a J and listening to Sade. I think I’ve earned this. I did save the world, after all. 

Ahhh... Finally some peace. 

Hopefully this clears up some questions you all had. And the good news is, now I’m back. I told Charlotte that I would be open to some freelance spy/assassin work from time to time, but for the time being, I’m going to focus on myself.

Good night all.

Xoxo,

Diane

[fyodorsuggestions]

Dance while we Burn

The spray of blood is messy, the arc of it perfect, the spatter of it beautiful. Oh is there anything better than this, can there be anything better? So many freed of the sin of existing so simply and so easily, without a second to suffer, without the breath to scream. This is easy, this is simple, this is kind. No bullets tearing through muscle and bone, bringing pain with them and taking lives as they go. No knives slicing through throats and leaving nothing but searing agony in their wake, no bones breaking, snapping, cracking under unnatural pressures.

There is no God of War on a rampage here, no fire racing through the streets and eating men whole. There is no God of Light searing the infidels and burning sins with Their divinity. There is no Goddess of the Hunt tearing through the poor domesticated cattle. There are no boys with birds’ feathers stuck to their arms, there are no wolves prowling by, there are no rich Kings or mad dogs, there are no exotic pets or idealistic fools.

There is nothing but a silent spectre bringing death, there is no delusional psychopath waging his war against innocents. If there is a God here, if I am it, then I am the one who seeks to soothe the world. I am the one who wants nothing more than equality and innocence, purity, I want to scrub the earth clean; scrub, scrape until my fingers bleed. And if I can’t, if the filth is a stain, if the corruption is too deep, then I will raze it all to the ground and salt the earth after me.

Isn’t that what a just God would do? Isn’t that what a good God does? To protect the people He so loves, to bless them and protect them, wouldn’t He destroy the devils underfoot to save a soul? So tell me, is what I’m doing so wrong then?

“Is it? Tell me if you want,” I murmur as another body falls to the ground, another of many, a woman with soft brown hair. She didn’t have a chance to suffer, my curse is merciful at least, as violent as her death is she felt none of it. Dead the instant my fingers brushed the nape of her neck, dead before she could even feel my presence behind her because all of humanity deserves a swift death.

I smile as I leave her there, bleeding out onto the already bloody tiles. The entire building gets to look like a sadistic madman’s macabre wax house, full of figures so carefully crafted they can’t be real and so bloodied you hope they aren’t. Oh but they are and I’m not, a madman, crazed maybe but not insane. Flitting from room to room, feeling my heart racing in my veins as I slip behind all of these poor unfortunate souls and release them from this pitiful existence as I was meant to do.

Hiding behind screens works but only to a point. There comes a time when you need to do these things yourself and if my servants would prefer to do nothing but bitterly serve then I won’t use them. If my dear worshippers want to go back on their belief then I won’t stop them but I won’t trust them either. No, if the Wolf wants to accuse and claim I’m so much worse than him, then who am I to contradict his beliefs? A better man would transcend the label, a foolish man would fall for the machinations and a stupid man would even twist his own morality to sate the hunger under his skin.

“Isn’t it convenient I am greater than Man then?” I laugh as I slip on a smear of blood and crash into a wall. The impact of it is enough to snap my teeth together and blur my vision, it hurts, oh it hurts, but I don’t really care. The laughter bubbling and boiling in my throat scalds my tongue as it pours out of my mouth, it burns my lips as froths past them; crazed isn’t the word for this but it isn’t sane either.

Laughter ringing through a morbid house of horrors should be crazed shouldn’t it? Bouncing off the walls, dancing down the halls, it should send chills down the spines of whoever’s left alive, it should act as herald and death bell but this isn’t that. Throwing my head back as I dash down the corridor, slipping and sliding through puddles of blood, this isn’t how a madman acts or sounds. My laughter is joyous, almost reckless and wild, childish? Am I nothing but a psychotic child playing at being God?

“Oh does it matter?” I snicker as I crash into a door hard enough to bounce off it, hard enough to tell the last few people alive that their death’s arrived. The last few people in this restaurant who don’t even realise what’s going on, who probably won’t right up til they’re slumping to the ground.

“Hello, can I help you?” a woman asks as I let myself in and she’s all bright smiles and innocent eyes. She looks like any other manager of any other restaurant, inconspicuous and approachable even though any other manager would’ve already called for security when a strange man walks into their office. She doesn’t know who I am but she’s used to well dressed people filtering through her office as they please, she probably didn’t even care when I slammed against her door because this normal.

When you work for the mafia, laundering their money and giving their people safe places to be, then everything’s normal. Having security cameras on you at all times with no access to the footage is normal, keeping strange hours because you never know who might need your services is normal. For the amount she’s being paid, normal can look like anything, for the amount she’s being paid she doesn’t deserve to burn with the rest of them but the world’s hardly ever that fair.

“Maybe,” I tell her, smiling as she shifts behind her desk, as she glances past me to the open door. They don’t leave door open when they conduct business, they don’t smile as her like this, they don’t bite their fingers and I think she realises. I think she realises something’s not quite right as I reach her desk and no one else follows after me, I think the fear starts to squirm in her stomach as she looks me full in the face.

“Yes I think you can,” I murmur and her brow furrows as she draws the breath to ask oh but she never finishes, the breath never reaches her lungs and the light leaves her eyes before she even feels my palm against her cheek. She barely even makes a sound as she slumps forward, dribbling her mouthful of blood as her brain hemorrhages and shuts down in less time than it takes to think. As I said, nothing is simpler and nothing is easier and nothing is kinder, she felt no pain and now she’s dead.

She’s just another casualty in this war, her and her entire staff, dead in their places without a chance to suffer. Hmm, more mercy than her employers would have offered her, they would’ve had her sacrifice herself for them while not lifting a finger to help her. They value loyalty but so rarely return the courtesy, more’s the pity.

“Your death wasn’t because of who you were or even who you worked for, you were a victim of consequence darling,” I explain with a sigh, “because I can be selfish too and I can be mad and I can be nasty.”

Burning things is an art, arson is a skill and fire is a tool. A tool to start over, a tool for tearing down Empires and leaving nothing behind but ashes. This restaurant doesn’t have a stockpile of weapons, this building isn’t made of wood but we made do, don’t we? We prepare and I prepared for this, I brought my accelerants to soak the bodies with and I know how to start kitchen fires.

When they look, all they’ll find is an unfortunate accident. When they look deeper, they’ll realise complacency is death and demons have their own twisted morals.

“Will you think I’m doing this to get your attention?” I wonder aloud as I carry my containers of gasoline through the building, splashing it wherever I please and watching it mix with half dried blood.

“Will you think I’m a child throwing a tantrum?” I muse as I pour oil into the saucepans and pots and put them all on the abandoned stoves. So late at night there shouldn’t have been anyone here but isn’t that a risk you take when your restaurant isn’t for selling food?

“Will you even stop to consider beyond yourselves? No, I don’t think you ever have, none of you ever have,” I tsk as the oil starts to boil and another laugh falls from my lips. They’re all so short sighted, only caring about themselves and whomever they claim to love as if the rest of the world doesn’t matter. They’re all so selfish, everything is about them and hasn’t it always been?

How do they fill the emptiness in their black hearts, how do they make the most of their lives, how can they rise through the ranks, how do they achieve their goals? None of them care and all of them kill and yet they have the audacity to say they’re better. Why? Because they have more power? Because they don’t really enjoy the evil they do, they had no choice, they were manipulated from birth?

We all were darlings, we all were and yet who among us is accepting responsibility for our actions? You’re letting the villain be better than you? You’re letting the murderous bastard, the evil demon, have higher morals and values?

“I’ve done terrible things but I don’t pretend like I haven’t. I don’t lie, and I don’t excuse,” I giggle as the kitchen heats up, as I pant for breath because it’s so hot.

“I don’t go back on my word and I don’t change my mind after committing so is it really too much to expect honesty from any of you?” I ask, breathing deep as the fire starts, crackling and snapping as it catches itself. Oh it’s intoxicating, it always has been as a pitiful thing in a cold alleyway to the only light on a dark night to now.

“I wish you were here to burn too,” I groan as the fire flares up and scorches the ceiling so lovely. I watch it for a few more seconds, the way it searches for something, anything to latch onto and spread along. Grease fires are hard to fight once they’re out of control and when this one spreads far enough to find the gasoline then it won’t be able to be stopped.

Which is good, I want this building to burn to the ground along with the mafia’s front and their money. Is it petty of me to do this? To take out one of their most lucrative launders just because I needed to burn something? Maybe, but I don’t care because these aren’t good people and even if they had no choice, it doesn’t matter because they wouldn’t have made a better one anyway.

[shadow-wasser]

WIP Fic Whenever: Atlamorphs 6

The return of WIP Fic!

WIP Fic Friday Whenever is a place where I will put a ‘quick and dirty’ first draft of either a short story or a chapter from a longer story. This will hopefully encourage me to improve my writing output. An Animorphs/Avatar: the Last Airbender Crossover. Yes it’s strange.

---------

The Worst Town Ever

I have to admit, Omashu being taken by the Fire Nation put a real dampener on our plans. And while Aang may have had some crazy ideas about ‘listening to the earth,’ just listening wasn’t going to get us an earthbending master. So, we were heading to another safe place we knew, Kyoshi Island. Maybe someone there could help us.

We brought Appa down in a clearing down the road from a town our map called Chin. We wanted to restock before heading to Kyoshi, and we quickly located a produce booth outside the town. Well, an empty produce booth.

Katara frowned. “Why would they be closed? It’s midday!”

“Maybe there’s a local holiday?” suggested Aang.

“That’s ridiculous,” I replied. “Why would a store shut down for a holiday? That’s when they get the most business!”

“Well, it looks like they’ve been closed for a while,” noted Katara, running a finger through the dust on the wooden countertop.

“Then let’s go into town. There’ll be more shops there,” said Aang, adjusting his hat. With his hat and drab, new Earth Kingdom clothes, you could hardly tell he was Aang anymore. Which, of course, was just the point.

But the town was empty. There were no vendors, no children playing, no women haggling for goods, no soldiers on leave. No people in the streets at all. It was very strange, not to mention creepy.

“What happened here?” wondered Aang, peering into an empty shopfront.

I looked around, searching for the telltale scorch marks. But there was nothing. “I… don’t know. Can the Fire Nation make a town disappear without burning it?”

“Towns don’t just… vanish.” Katara shook her head. “Maybe they evacuated? Maybe there was some sort of disaster… or plague…”

My danger senses prickled. “If that’s true, we really shouldn’t be here. Forget supplies. We can fish for the next few days.”

“But guys, I don’t eat fish.”

“Fish isn’t meat, Aang. How many times do we have to go over-”

“Ah! I thought I heard something.”

We all turned at the voice. A man was standing there, dressed in green so pale it was almost white. He was smiling faintly.

“Don’t be afraid, children. I merely wanted to know who had entered our village.”

“Well, it’s good to know someone’s here,” said Katara. “Is there something wrong with the village? Why haven’t we seen anybody?”

“Wrong? Why, nothing is wrong! To the contrary, something is very, very right. We are all under the blessing of most powerful judgment spirits.”

“Judgment spirits?” Aang looked confused.

“Yes, they are great beings, with marvelous powers.”

“What are their names?” asked Aang carefully.

“The judgment spirits are called Hork-Bajr,” said the man. “They punish Fire Nation soldiers, and reward the faithful.” He smiled serenely. “If you go to them, they will purge you of all evil and vice, and leave you a better person.” The man leaned forward earnestly. “It’s like being born anew!”

Katara and I exchanged glances.

“Would you like to try it? As soon as they are done exacting sentence on some Fire Nation prisoners, I’m sure they’d be happy to see you.”

“I guess I could check it out,” said Aang.

The man smiled. “Certainly. Come, follow me.”

I wasn’t so sure about it, to be honest. I didn’t see how being blessed by some sort of judgment spirit would make you just abandon all your buildings. Something was really fishy.

The man led us down the main road, when a blade monster stepped out of a side street and looked at us.

I gasped and recoiled. I knew that kind of creature. I’d seen one before, when we had been chased by Yeerks. It had hurt Katara.

“W-what-” started Katara.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the man smoothly. “This is one of our judgment spirits, a Hork-Bajir. It can help you.”

But we weren’t going to stay any longer. This was not the kind of help we wanted.

We turned back the way we came and ran as fast as we could towards the town gates, but I guess the Yeerks had already known we were there, since the blade monsters, the ‘Hork-Bajir,’ were waiting for us by the entrance. There were also some people, all wearing that same greenish white, and one or two giant septapede monsters. They each held some sort of metal device.

A woman stepped forward, and held the device up. “Stop,” she said.

I unsheathed my boomerang, cocked my arm back, and-

There was a flash of red light, and the ground in front of me disintegrated.

Katara, Aang, and I all tumbled over each other, thrown off balance. I quickly scrambled back to my feet, trying to determine what had happened.

The woman was smiling. “Do you believe us now?” she called. “We, who are in service to the judgment spirits, who wield power from beyond the stars, proclaim you guilty! Spirits, do you agree?”

“Hrrunkunsh. Yes,” called out one of the Hork-Bajir.

“Then we shall take them to their punishment.”

I scanned around for a way out. It didn’t look good. The Hork-Bajir now had us completely surrounded, and their blades gleamed in the light. I looked at Aang, who was already blowing on the bison whistle. But Appa was a long way away…

Strangely, the Hork Bajir weren’t advancing, but rather standing back and allowing the humans to line up in front of them. Why were they doing that?

I could feel the wind start to pick up, as Aang stirred the air with his staff. Katara uncorked her water skin and withdrew a stream of water. I hefted my boomerang, changing the grip in my hand. Then a red beam of light lanced at me from one of the handheld devices, almost too fast to see. Far too fast to dodge.

It felt like my entire body was getting punched at once. My muscles seized up, and everything went dark.

--------------------------------------------------

“Guhhhhhhgnh. My heeeeeeeeeead.”

I felt smooth metal underneath me. I opened my eyes, and saw the bars of a cage. My head pounded like it had been hit with a hammer, and everything felt sore. What had happened?

“You humans are so primitive.”

I turned my head to face the sound, my skin unsticking from the ground, where I had been drooling. A man was there, and standing behind him was a Hork-Bajir.

“You never expect the dracon beams, do you? Such foolish primitives.”

I wasn’t sure I could trust my voice to work properly, so I simply grunted in what I hoped was an irate manner.

“That was just ‘stun.’ I’ll leave it up to you to imagine what the higher settings are like. So don’t try anything.”

I turned away, examining my cage. I was in a metal cage, one of several in the same room. Katara was in my cage, and I scooted over to check her. She was breathing fine, but seemed to be unconscious. I could see Aang chained up in another, with – my gut clenched- his hat removed, and his arrow clear for the world to see. The last cage was a bit more crowded, with five very large men stuffed inside. Their armor was black trimmed with red, and I was surprised to see that the Yeerks hadn’t lied about capturing Fire Nation soldiers.

The center of the room was something I’d seen before. It was a small pool of black liquid, like ink, but seething and frothing. It was a Yeerk Pool.

Aang had told us about Yeerk Pools, after the disaster at Fong’s base. Elfangor had told him about them. They were like… food, for Yeerks. They had to go feed in them every three days, or they’d die. They ate something called ‘Kandrona,’ but don’t ask me what that is. Even Aang had no idea.

Also in the room were several Hork Bajir, and a few humans. One man was standing off to the side. He was talking to himself, and was holding something small and metal in his hand.

“No, we can’t infest them now. Yes, yes, I know we were before, but that was before we knew he was the Avatar. Visser Three wants to use someone of rank, and he’s going to oversee it himself. So we’re keeping- Yes? Yes, alright. We can do that. May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you.”

The man strutted up to one of the Hork Bajir and told it something. The Hork-Bajir opened the cage holding the Fire Nation soldiers, who immediately charged the monster. As they did so, I noticed that one of them was chained from head to foot and could barely move. He must have been a firebender.

But despite their attack, all the soldiers had were their fists, and one of them, a dark-skinned man with mutton chops and a long dark braid down his back, got a cut on his scalp for his trouble. The rest were muscled aside, and the Hork-Bajir grabbed the chained man and dragged him out.

The man who had given the order looked furious. “Don’t damage them, you fool! That host is valuable!”

“I gruunkl hunve!”

“Well, try harder! The Visser isn’t going to like it if he sees us damaging hosts.”

Meanwhile, the chained-up soldier was protesting as well. Very colorfully.

“Let me go, fucking demons! Do you know who you’re messing with? I am a colonel of the Fire Lord! The Fire Lord will have your blood! You’ll burn for this! You’ll be boiled in oil, and they’ll take a spear and shove it up-”

I didn’t get to hear the rest, because the Hork-Bajir pushed the man’s head into the Yeerk Pool. I watched in horror as he thrashed around, sure that I was going to watch him drown. But he had only been down for a few seconds when the Hork-Bajir let him back up.

The soldier’s mouth gaped like a fish, and his eyes rolled in his head. “Rrgh,” he said. “What.” He didn’t say anything else for a while, just stood there, staring vacantly at nothing. Eventually, after several minutes, he spoke again.

“You can let me go now. I am in control.”

The man in charge took out a key, and unlocked the soldier. The soldier stood up and saluted. “Nerisk four-seven-nine, reporting. Host’s name is Mongke. Colonel in the Fire Army. Firebender. Leader of weapons specialist team. Subdues Earth Kingdom towns on the borders of Fire Nation territories.”

I stared. It was incredible. I mean, I’d heard about it, but I hadn’t seen it before. I had just watched a man become a Yeerk-possessed puppet body. A ‘Controller,’ as Aang said they were called.

And even though he was Fire Nation, I felt sorry for him.

“Oh Spirits…” came a voice in my ear, and I jumped. But it was just Katara, who must have woken up while I was distracted. “What are we going to do?”

I patted my waist, and found that my boomerang was missing. One look at Katara confirmed that her water skin was gone as well. My mouth was dry. It didn’t look good. I couldn’t pick the lock without the Hork-Bajir seeing me, and I didn’t have any weapons to fight them with anyway. Katara could try bending the Yeerk pool liquid, but could she do that without the Hork-Bajir attacking us?

Meanwhile, the Hork-Bajir was taking the next man out of the cage, this time a short-haired man with a red tattoo on his face. The same thing happened to him as the first guy. And the next one, too. And the next, and the next.

After the men were possessed, they left. Going off to do Yeerk things, I guess.

My mind swarmed with ideas, none of them good. If I morphed Momo, I could slip easily through the bars of the cage. But the Hork-Bajir guards would see me morphing, and kill me or hit me with that red light again. There were multiple guards in the room, so waiting for the shifts to change wasn’t a possibility. If I played dead, would they take me out of the cage? They wanted me alive, right? No, no, that’s stupid. They’d never fall for that… would they?

And meanwhile, Visser Three was coming. Visser Three, who Elfangor had told us to flee from instead of fight. A Yeerk who Elfangor told us could morph.

I could assume he wasn’t a nice guy.

My gut clenched. This was it. I was siting here like a cowpig waiting for slaughter, waiting for my body to be taken over by a brain slug. Next to me, Katara was shivering. I tried to stay strong for her.

I was beginning to reconsider my ‘play dead’ idea, when he came in. Blue. Four legs. Two arms. Scythe tail. No mouth. Freaky spirit monster. Elfangor?

As soon as he stepped in, all the Hork–Bajir and white-robed humans stood to attention.

“V-V-Visser Three,” stammered the man who had been talking at a piece of metal earlier. “It’s an hon- an honor to have you here. This is sooner than we expected you. But where are your guards?”

Wait a minute. Elfangor was Visser Three? Or did they just look really similar?

Visser Three narrowed his eyes. (It is not your place to judge who I choose for my company, Vernish one-two-five, and if you do so again, you will regret ever having been spawned. Now bring him out.)

A Hork-Bajir went into Aang’s cage and grabbed him. “Let him go!” shouted Katara. “Don’t you dare…! Don’t you know that he is the Avatar? You have no idea what kind of imbalances you’ll make if-”

“Quiet, garshrik!” snapped the Hork-Bajir, and I put my hand on Katara’s arm. I felt sick. We’d lost. I didn’t want to watch, but it was as though I couldn’t look away.

Visser Three’s eyes glinted with malice. (Give me the keys, Vernish one-two-five.)

The Controller did. I guess he was too frightened of crossing Visser Three not to.

Then, the Visser unlocked Aang.

Aang is a kid. I mean, he’s goofy and fun-loving and uses his incredible bending might to play in the snow. But I’ll give him one thing. That kid is fast.

No sooner had the shackles around his arms clicked than Aang leapt directly upward, easily reaching the ceiling. The Hork-Bajir and humans seemed to gape at him for a moment, and then he twisted in midair and came down with the wind following him. I was a good distance away, but I was still nearly blown onto my back by the force of the gust. It was much worse for the Yeerks, and for Visser Three.

I saw the Visser fly backward from the blast, letting go of the keys as he went, and hit the stone wall of the building hard enough to leave a dent. And then, almost too quickly to notice, he flickered and vanished.

I don’t know how else to describe it. It was like he wasn’t there, then he was, then he wasn’t, then he was. And when he wasn’t there, in his place there was something made out of metal… And then he was gone completely.

You’ve got to realize, by this point I was so freaked out I almost didn’t care how weird things got, so long as I got out of there.

“Aang!” I yelled. “Over here!”

“Kinda busy, Sokka!” Aang leapt up on top of a Hork-Bajir’s head and used it as a springboard, easily clearing the Yeerk pool and landing on top of the cage next to us. Leaping down, he whipped out the keys that Visser Three dropped, and unlocked the cage holding my sister and me.

“Let’s get out of here!”

We didn’t need to be told twice. The Yeerks were confused, apparently having realized that the Visser was missing. But that wasn’t stopping them from pursuing us. Aang blasted the door of the building off its hinges, and we were outside! Ah, sweet freedom!

Then Aang stopped, and I nearly ran right into him. “What’s wrong?” Katara asked.

“Uh, guys? Do you know where we are?” wondered Aang.

I looked around. Lots of cottages. Nothing special, but… “Doesn’t matter! Yeerks behind us! Keep moving!”

We ran, but we could hear the Hork Bajir behind us, and I would have been willing to bet that those monsters were faster.

“I need my whistle! I need to call Appa!” panted Aang.

“Well we don’t have that!” I replied, frustration mounting. “Which way is the city gate?”

“I don’t know!”

“I think it’s this way,” said Katara, pointing.

“No, I’m pretty sure the ocean’s that way,” I responded.

“Guys, we can’t argue right now, the Hork Bajir are-”

“Avatar?” came a different voice.

We pulled up short as a man stepped in front of us from a side street. Aang readied an air blast for battle, but the man held out his hands. “I am not one of them, and I am not your enemy. I can help.”

“Wait a-” I started, but I didn’t get to finish. The man vanished, and in his place was… um… it was…

It actually looked kind of like Momo. I mean, if you took Momo, and stood him on two legs, made him larger, and then sculpted him out of metal and ivory, you might get close. Then, without moving its mouth, it spoke.

“Do not be alarmed. I am a friend. Follow me, and stay close.”

I heard a crunching behind me, and whirled around, heart in my throat. The Hork-Bajir and the human Controllers had caught up, but they weren’t coming for us. They were looking around, confused.

“They can neither see nor hear you,” said the metal thing. “I have created an illusion, and masked our presence. Now follow me.”

I looked at Aang and Katara. They looked just as nonplussed as I felt, their eyes bulging. Aang was the first to recover, and followed. Katara and I exchanged a glance, but we followed as well. It’s not that I trusted the metal thing. I just didn’t see that we had much choice.

“What are you?” Aang breathed, after a few moments.

The metal thing turned its head towards him. “The human name I take is En Rek. I am a Chee.” He didn’t say anything more, simply led us down a side street, and into an otherwise nondescript building.

There was a septapede monster inside, but before I could scream or grab for a weapon that wasn’t there, En Rek said; “Tisgal four-zero-three reporting to examine the captured weapons.”

The septapede hissed and spat something unintelligible. It was so close I was literally getting hit with drops of its spittle. It was disgusting. But surprisingly, it let us pass. En Rek opened let us to a door, and inside were our things!

“Boomerang!” I cried joyfully. Oh, I had missed that little flying piece of metal!

“Appa’s whistle! And my staff!”

“My waterskin!”

Aang turned to look at the metal creature called En Rek, and bowed. “Thank you, En Rek. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for us.”

I looked at En Rek again. There was something about him… then it clicked. “You were using your… illusion powers… or whatever… to look like the Visser, weren’t you?”

Aang gasped. “You did? I was wondering why he let me go…”

En Rek made a sound like a sigh. “Yes, I did. And it was a great risk. Still, I knew I could trust an air nomad to not harm the Hork-Bajir.” A look of guilt and sorrow passed over Aang’s face.

I looked at En Rek’s face, but it was made out of metal, and showed no expression. “What do you mean? It’s in Aang’s every right to hurt the Hork-Bajir. They were going to enslave us!”

“We Chee are nonviolent in all things. We cannot harm another.”

Oh, great. I looked at Aang, who was avoiding looking at En Rek.

“But… what are you?” asked Katara, staring with fascination. “I’ve never seen anything like you before. Are you a spirit?”

“No. We Chee are the creations of people from a far distant star. They are dead now, but we, their companions, have chosen Earth for our home. But that is too long a story, and we must leave before the Taxxon guard suspects us.”

En Rek led us out of the town, and suddenly, he wasn’t a metal creature anymore, but a normal-looking man. “This is as far as I can take you, Avatar,” he said, his mouth now moving like a normal human’s would. He looked up, and I followed his gaze to the shape of a black axe in the sky, coming closer. “Wind speed to you. We Chee will be your allies as long as there is hope for the air nomads in this world.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

--------------------------------------

A/N: I don’t think it ever happened in-series, but I think it’s not unreasonable to assume the Chee can mimic thought-speak if they want to.

[rebelbyrdie]

An Almost SQ Fanfic

So this is a piece of writing.  It is unfinished and I don’t know what to do with it.  It was sort of a knee-jerk reaction to all the wedding hub-bub.  I don’t know if it’s any good, but I do love Jaime Murray, Lana Parrila and Bex Mader, so this happened.  It is long and under the cut.  SwanQueen.

Prologue

“How in Ozma’s name did  you get your socks off again, Little Bean?”  Zelena huffed and toted her daughter into Regina’s wreck of a room.  “I’m telling you her magic is manifesting in the form of her removing her clothes.”  Dresses were spread all over the bed, vanity and dresser.  Matching shoes were spread all over the room. “I hope it’s not a bad bit of foreshadowing.”  She looked around for her sister.  Regina, clad in panties, garters, and a bra, came out of the closet with yet another dress thrown over her arms.

“Auntie Regina has lost her pretty little mind.”  Zelena chuckled, “Let’s hope it isn’t genetic.”

Regina’s face was pale and in her undressed state Zelena could see exactly how much weight her dear sister had lost.  She could see the curve of her ribs and each notch of her spine.  She put up a good front, but without her clothes, makeup and the occasional bit of glamour magic, it was easy to see that she was sick.

Once upon a time, Regina would have happily chopped off her left hand (not something she personally recommended) before she’d let Zelena see her like this.  Now they were sisters, well sort of.  They were working towards being sisters, she supposed.  As the official elder sister, Zelena was officially worried, and not just about the closet explosion.

“This aversion to clothes must have skipped over Mommy.”

Regina dropped the dress, a deep purple sheath, on her bed and twisted her fingers.  Two small frilly white socks appeared on Robbie’s little feet.  Then she held out her arms and the infant flailed at her.  Zelena handed her over and Regina smiled for the first time in what seemed like weeks.  

“What do you think, Sweetie.  What should I wear?”

Robbie didn’t answer, of course, but she did grab at Regina’s dark hair.  

“Maybe you should go just like that.  It might finally bring Em-ma back to her senses.”

Regina sighed, “Zelena I really don’t feel up to this sister-sister-shtick.”

Zelena looked over the mess of dresses.  “Well I don’t really feel up to watching you have a nervous break down over what you’re going to wear to Emma and Hook’s god-awful nuptuials.”

She grabbed a black and white dress and held it out, “Give me my baby and make yourself yourself presentable.”  They exchanged armfuls, a baby for a dress.  “And don’t forget to take your pills.”

The cocktail of Excedrin, Benadryl and Anti-Nausea pills that Regina had been eating like skittles lately.  Zelena had none-too-subtly hinted that Regina should go to the doctor.  Apparently Regina still had a small grudge against Whale, though.  She had decided not to push it. Anything would trigger her sister’s migraines these days, and with all the problems they’d been having lately, everyone had to be in top shape.

Regina had ducked into her ensuite and came back out dressed and made up.  “Well look at that, Little Bean, she looks almost as good as us.”

Regina smiled weakly, “Please, I look great.”  The throbbing vein in her forehead told  Zelena that she didn’t feel half as good as she looked.  Still, they had a wedding to get to and since she had fifty dollars down on Regina being the one who would not be able to hold her peace, she wanted a good seat to watch.

Part I

It was a beautiful ceremony,but Regina always felt very out-of-place at weddings.  Even the ones she was actually invited to.  It was probably because her own had been more like a funeral.  Added to her displacement was the fact that she had a migraine, another one. It could be from stress or even from over-taxing her magic, or it could be an acute reaction to watching Emma Swan marrying a slimey misogynistic piece of pirate trash.  Not that she disapproved.  She was happy that Emma was happy.  They were friends and she was happy for her.  That was her story and she was sticking to it.  She forced a smile onto her face and focused on maintaining that facade.  It had worked well enough for her own wedding.

Henry stood beside her, stiff as a board.  He wasn’t a fan of Hook, either, but would never dream of standing in the way of his of his mother’s happiness.  Snow and David walked Emma down the aisle and Zelena, on Regina’s other side, leaned close, “This is my first wedding in this realm, is the dress supposed to be hideous?”  She planted a quick and sharp elbow into her darling sister’s ribs even if she did agree.  It just wasn’t Emma.

Of course Emma hadn’t been very Emma-like in a long time.  Regina sighed internally and brushed those thoughts aside.  She’d been over it in her head over and over again and it got her nowhere.  Obsessing over Emma Swan was not a healthy habit and she really needed to break it.  

Snow and David handed Emma over to Killian at the alter, glowing with huge smiles and tears in their eyes.  She couldn’t fathom how this could be a happy day for them.  Regina felt nothing but dread and fear, but she was projecting her own feelings, she knew that.  This was Emma’s day and she was going to be happy for her friend, even if it killed her.

The words, the same as every other wedding, her own included, started and everyone was quiet.  It was a picture perfect ceremony, which was why Regina was in no way surprised when a swirl of black smoke appeared at the door.

“Oh Dear, am I late?”

The sharp, oddly accented and cold as ice voice of the Black Fairy made every head turn.  People gasped and jump to their feet.

“Oh hell!”  Zelena hissed, “I can’t believe I got suckered into that betting pool.”

Regina summoned a fireball to each hand.  Not only had the damn Black Fairy arrived to cause trouble, she had stolen her signature wedding crash entrance.

The woman walked up the aisle in her flowing black gown, which Regina had to begrudgingly admit looked fantastic on her.

“Did I come in at the speak now part?  Because I am afraid that I can’t hold my peace.”

Hook stood, mouth agape, like a codfish.  Emma, pale and wan, just stared.  Snow’s jaw dropped open and David reached for a sword that wasn’t there.

“Because there is a reason that these two can’t be wed you know.”

Well, finally someone had said it.

The Black Fairy tilted her head to the side and her smile was predatory.  “It seems that one of them is already married.”

Everyone, almost in perfect sync, turned to look at Hook.  He was, after all, around two hundred years old and a pirate.

“That’s a bloody lie!  I’ve never married, not even Milah!”

The Black Fairy laughed, it was like shards of glass-sharp and broken.  “Not you, surprisingly enough.  No, I’m referring to your blushing bride.  She cannot marry you as she is married to another.”

Emma looked from the fairy, to Hook, and back again.  Her cheeks started to turn pink, the first color that had been there it was seemed like months.  

“Listen, Lady Cuckoo, here’s the thing.”  Emma shoved her bouquet into Killian’s arms.  “I think I would know if I was married.  There’s a ceremony, vows, partners who really like each other, and sometimes an Elvis impersonator.  Trust me, this is my first go round.”

“Is it?”

The Fairy walked forward, her movements eerily smooth and beautiful, it was like she was floating.

“A ceremony is only”  She pursed her lips, “a ritual on hallowed ground.”  She twitched her head so it was tilted to the other side, “and partner can mean many things.”  Her head twitched again, “but in this instance it is two people joining together into one force.”  She was close now, “And I’m not sure what an Elvis is, but I assume it is some sort of official, someone to bless the union.”  She was only inches away from Emma now, her long slender fingers plucked at Emma’s veil.  “All the pieces were there and I assure you, this binding is quite real and quite unbreakable. I believe the phrase is until death do you part?”

“Who?!”

Killian shoved the fairy away from Emma, frothing mad.  He whirled to look at Emma, “Who did you marry?!”  He grabbed her silk and lace clad shoulders, hand and hook.

“Oh shut up!  Both of you!”  Regina broke rank and stormed into the aisle.  “You!”  She looked at Hook, “Let go of her, she’s a woman, not a chew toy.”  She whirled around, “And you.”  She glared at the Black Fairy, fireballs blazing in her hands.  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, you Disney movie cast-off, but you’re not impressing anybody.”

The Black Fairy grinned, wide and toothy, “Wifey to the rescue.”

Regina was so shocked her fireball went out.

“What?”

The migraine that had been toying with her for hours burst to full and excruciating strength in Regina’s head.  It was like an atomic bomb in her skull.  She grit her teeth, forced her spine to stay straight and locked her knees.  She was the daughter of Cora Mills and she didn’t cower before anyone, especially not a fairy.  “You are out of your dust-sniffing mind.  First you target my sister and her child and now you’re spouting off wild lie about me.  This obsession is frankly disturbing me, and I used to be The Evil Queen.”

The crowd rumbled around them.  She glanced to the side.  Zelena stood at the ready, Henry and Robbie safely behind her.  

“Aren’t you a little bit curious, Regina-Dear?  The headaches, the upset stomach, the rashes and hives, sleepless night.  Did you really think it was just stress?”

“What?!”  Emma roared out,  “Regina?”

She didn’t turn to look at Emma.  She had to stay focused, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.  At least when I crashed a wedding, I did it with style and an actual point.  Now go.  Exactly no one is interested in your nonsense.”

Hook lunged at her, fist cocked back to punch.  The fairy held up a hand and she  froze him mid-air.

“And Emma.  You’re positively peakish, like you’re a ghost of your former self.  Haven’t you felt drained lately?  Like you’re pleasing everyone but yourself?  Dancing along to your parent’s tune.  Playing lovesies with one of the most disgusting people I’ve ever met.”

Emma stepped forward and tore off her veil.  “Go to Hell.”

“No, I heard it was positively dreadful.  Of course if you go through with this charade you’ll be going back or did you think death do us part was just poetry?”

Regina raised her chin, “More nonsense.”

The Black Fairy laughed, “Nonsense or Neverland, perhaps.”

Both she and Emma turned to look at each other.  So many things had happened on that island.  Regina was pretty damn sure that they hadn’t stopped by a wedding chapel.

“Neverland is hallowed ground, you know, concentrated magic, belief given form.  The only other witness is dead, but that does not invalidate the marriage.”

“I was there, Love.  My Swan did not marry anyone, especially not the Evil Queen.  She kissed me.”

Neverland.  When she and Emma had combined their magic to blot out the moon.  A ritual on hallowed ground and joining of selves.

“That can’t be right.”

Astrid, brave little soul that she was, stepped up, “For that sort of ceremony to work there would have to be an engagement, a stone to hold the promise.  There would have to be gifts and a witness and a fairy to bless-”

The Black Fairy flew over to Astrid, her eyes wide and black with fury.  “Am I not a fairy?  I blessed the union and there was a witness, he just happens to be dead now.”  

She chuckled, “Just as at least one of you will be if you say I do.  Possibly both. It’s really a toss up.”

Oh no.  No no no.

The trigger-their stone to hold a promise.

The gift - good memories.

Regina’s heartbeat trippled and her stomach churned up acid.  She could smell copper and taste bile.  It couldn’t be true.  It really couldn’t.  She knew she had to be strong, to fight, to banish the woman who was ruining Emma’s day.  She couldn’t though.  The pain, the fatigue, the emotional roller coaster, it was all too much.

“Gina?”  Zelena ran forward and  grabbed one of her arms as she started to slide to the ground.

“Mom?”  Henry dropped his book and darted forward to grab her other. Neither of them were able to stop her from falling, but they did ease her down.

Things were hazy, the world was wavering and wobbling before her eyes.  Voices were distorted, as if she were underwater.  Still she could hear two things.

Emma screaming her name and The Black Fairy’s laugh.

“That’s right, Emma, go take care of your wife.”

[noirlevity]

Sixty-Nine

A/N: This is part of that Saiferi series I wrote previously. This is Urd/Sai because I ship them for the lelz. And I have been haunted by this Model!Saitou and Photographer!Urd for quite a while now so I have to exorcise it from my brain. 

As the Title suggests, this is all about Sixty-Nine. Yes you’re right. This is that sixty-nine. 

Parts: 1 | 2 

Saitou went out to buy something at a convenience store. When he returned, Urd was already at their hotel room, splayed on the couch and  bundled up by his blanket like a burrito. He went closer to check on him and saw that the man was flustered; he was beet red and  breathed shallow breaths.

“This is a surprise. You’ve been drinking.”

Urd only breathed. Saitou walked to the couch, crouched, and looked up at him to study his face. Blond lashes fringed Urd’s closed lids and his hair framed his face haphazardly. Tufts stuck to his forehead because of sweat. In all the years that they’ve worked together, he had never seen Urd drunk like this. The blonde didn’t like to drink because it would make him lose control, and he didn’t want that.

Urd slowly opened his eyes, and furrowed his brows.

“Shut up. This is none of your business.”

“Take a bath first, ne?” Saitou prodded, tapping Urd’s cheek.

Urd turned his back on Saitou and curled up. Saitou sighed.

“Come now, Urd.”

“I’m.. completely fine…”

Saitou rolled his eyes and lifted him up.

“Heave hoo~”

Urd’s heart skipped a beat as his body jerked.

“Oi! Put me down, bastard.” He struggled in panic.

“No need to be shy~”

Saitou put him down on the bed.

“I’ll wipe your body instead, if you don’t want to get in the bath yourself. That would be a fine idea don’t you think?”

Urd was about to complain when Saitou put a finger on his mouth to stop him.

“No. You will listen to what I say.”

Urd gave up. His cheeks suffused with a darker shade of red.

Saitou went to the bath to get a wet towel and a basin humming a tune. Then after that, he proceeded with cleaning Urd. He unwrapped him first, exposing the man. Urd closed his eyes; sweat trailed down his temple and his chest exposed. It wouldn’t be so bad if he played along just this once.

Saitou wiped Urd’s face first and then his neck. He sat him up to take off his polo shirt and then wiped his chest. Saitou made it a point to slowly swathe his nipples, circling the cloth on it,teasing it a little bit. He could just clean it using his tongue if he wished but he can’t. Urd didn’t react. He seemed to be so out of it.

Urd was cursing Saitou inwardly. The guy was pushing his luck. He slowly opened his eyes to make Saitou stop touching him like that. He didn’t have the energy to reprimand Saitou, because he felt exhausted from his work earlier that day.

Saitou wiped Urd’s arms, and armpits. The act was intimate  so that Saitou was feeling a little bothered. It was his first me taking care of Urd. It was the first time Urd deigned him with his divine body.

“You feel a little bit refreshed now don’t you?”

“Mmm.” Urd mumbled batting his lashes. He leaned against Saitou’s chest drowsily, nuzzling on his shoulder completely defenseless. He closed his eyes, and thanked God Saitou stopped touching him. His warmth was enough. Contrary to Saitou’s accusation that Urd was frigid, he does get hot from time to time.

Oh boy. This is so out of character. Saitou thought, getting a little excited. He smiled, hang the wet towel on the rim of the basin and ran his hand through Urd’s blonde hair. Urd’s locks were soft and smooth and fragrant.

“Idiot. Why did you drink?”

Saitou lay him down the bed and proceeded wiping his feet. Then he tucked him and watched him sleep. The ticking clock was loud and troubling. Urd opened his eyes and turned on his side, facing Saitou. He was sober already, but he just felt tired. Tired, yet he was heating up from the inside.

Urd listened, closed his eyes, and bent his legs. Saitou’s nearness made him roll his hips against the blankets.

Disgusting.

Urd remembered that Saitou was together with someone called Ferid. It was proper not to touch what isn’t his, but somehow he felt entitled that he should have Saitou right this moment. The bastard told him he was frigid and would never be able to get laid because of his cold personality when they argued earlier that day. It still irked him, that’s why he wanted to show Saitou that he could get whoever he wanted if he chose to.

Saitou stared at Urd, analyzing the situation he got himself in.

Like desert served especially for me. How cruel Urd, playing with me like this.

The silence was creeping in on them. Urd’s heart was hammering inside his chest. He felt Saitou’s stare on himself disturbing. He wanted him to look away, but he also wanted his attention all to himself. It was the first time he allowed himself something like this. Most of the time he was controlled and always chose the lesser evil. Propriety was important. But whatever. He wanted to take revenge. And Saitou and this Ferid guy was getting on his nerves lately. After a long silence, Urd said,

“What’s he like?”

“Who?”

“That boy. Ferid, was it?”

“Ah~ him. Not a boy; he’s a grown man.”

Saitou acted indifferent shrugging his shoulders. Urd thought he could ask what he wanted by pretending to be drunk.

Saitou fiddled with a tuft of Urd’s hair.

“Well, let’s see.”

A pause.

“He’s beautiful. Adorable. Sexy.”

Urd opened his eyes and looked up at him. Saitou’s figure was imposing. It made him feel a little breathless. Saitou ran a hand through Urd’s hair. The feel of his hand made Urd comfortable so that he melted at his touch. Furrowed brows made Saitou chuckle.

“What’s wrong?”

They gazed at each other. Urd didn’t reply he just stared at Saitou. Saitou ran his thumb across Urd’s cheek, and then fondled the soft skin dangling down his ears.

Silence gnawed at them. Finally Saitou feeling somewhat bold, he broke the ice,

“I want to see you pleasure yourself.”

This pervert is so predictable. 

Saitou must be expecting him to reprimand him as what he would usually do, but Urd didn’t reply; he didn’t move, he just continued to look up at him.

Saitou found Urd gorgeous. His olive skin, his green eyes, and blonde hair was a combination Saitou had always liked. He could just look at him really.

“I don’t know how to. That’s why I could never get laid right?”

Saitou’s eyes widened. Oh he liked this Urd.

“So that is why you went drinking.” Saitou crooned as he re-positioned himself on the bed. He pulled the blanket away from Urd.

“But how do you usually do it? I knew you’ve..”

“I’ve never done it with anyone. You know this already. So I only ever did it to myself..” Urd was now getting embarrassed. He wasn’t used to this kind of talk.

“But I still want to see how you do it to yourself.”

But you have him now. Pervert.

Feeling defeated, Urd unzipped his pants and took his dick out. It was limp and soft in his hands. Saitou stared at him intently as he held it with an amused grin on his face. Urd saw Saitou swallow a lump in his throat and breathed heavily as he did this.

He liked the Saitou that was thirsty for him like is. But he also felt guilty.

Don’t worry. He deserves this.

He closed his eyes and imagined Saitou was the one that wrapped his hand around him. It was such a disturbing thought really; it made him feel disgust. So he imagined another thing: a woman with big boobs showing off her clit and moaning as she fingered herself like in those porn vids he had watched.

That’s more like it.

He pressed the tip and massaged his length and started pumping his hands on his length. He lolled his head to the side and opened his mouth for a moan. Drowned in pleasure, he opened his eyes and saw Saitou’s eyes on him and he felt aroused. He couldn’t believe he was masturbating in front of Saitou. His breath was shallow, and his face red as a tomato. Saitou just gazed down at him staring with an unreadable expression on his face.

Urd wondered whether he was secretly judging him now that he saw him in a mess like this. He was afraid of what would happen tomorrow. Would something bad happen to him tomorrow because he did this? His Father would surely be disappointed at him.

Precum started to froth at the tip of his manhood making him shudder. Urd craned his neck and arched his back in pleasure. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Saitou grabbed Urd’s member wrapping the other’s hand with his own.

“You do it like this: press it hard  pump down hard and fast. Feel that?”

Urd moaned.

“Rigr.. Rig.. uhh. not so fast.”

“May I undress you?”

Urd gulped. He nodded feverishly.

Saitou took off Urd’s top, his hand sticky with Urd’s cum. The scent of semen wafted in the air, and it was not a nice scent.

Urd’s nipples perked up, and Saitou felt tempted to bite it, but he held himself back. He leaned down instead and whispered in Urd’s ears.

“You’re so beautiful Urd.” Saitou cupped Urd’s chin and stretched it so that Urd could open his mouth.

“So very beautiful.”

Saitou licked Urd’s mouth and inserted his tongue making the other make a muffled sound. The sound of tongue grazing on tongue sounded like a hiss. Saitou sucked and nibbled on Urd’s mouth. He was careful not to leave bruises though. But he really wanted to.

Urd didn’t breathe. He was not expecting such an intense kiss from Saitou. He was only sort of expecting it, but he was surprised at how eager the other was. He felt nervous, so as a consequence, his hands went cold and his legs felt not his own.

“You taste just how I fantasized.”

Saitou licked the shell of Urd’s ear. He sucked on the flesh and nibbled it. Urd felt harassed by the licking sound blasting in his ears.

“Rigr!” Urd moaned. He gasped when he felt Saitou’s member poke his head. The other was hard. This fact scent a chill down Urd’s spine.

“I’d prefer you strapped to my bed, unable to move though. But this will suffice.”

Saitou kissed Urd’s chest. He licked Urd’s nipples. His tongue traced the areola of Urd’s left breast. As Saitou did all of this, Urd felt an electric shock ran through his body. 

Saitou kneeled on the bed, legs on each side off Urd’s head. Urd saw a bulge poking out of Saitou’s trousers, and it scared him.

Saitou crawled. He kissed Urd’s flat  belly and licked his navel. He tasted the blonde hair of his skin. Urd moaned at this. Completely still, Urd’s hands dangled at his sides. Saitou grabbed Urd’s cock and kissed it. He tasted salt on his tongue. He was pleased that the soft flesh of Urd’s girth was rock hard. even though the scent of semen was strong, it still made him want to do a lot more.

Urd was aroused. He was losing his mind, He didn’t know that things would turn into this. He held back a moan because he didn’t want to seem enthused. He liked the feeling, but he didn’t want to admit it. What could he do to keep himself busy?

A thought struck him. Urd swallowed hard. Would he be able to do it? Of course he could. And so, clumsy hands unbuckled Saitou’s belt. The sound of metal coalescing with metal accompanied the sound of licking and slurping noises Saitou made, as well as the wet sloppy sounds of mouth sucking on skin.

Saitou was surprised that he flustered, but he didn’t mind it. It just surprised him that Urd was going to do this.

Urd pulled Saitou’s trousers down making it bunch at his knees. He kissed Saitou’s cock. He turned to his side, pushing Saitou to lay on his side. Quavering, he kissed Saitou’s navel and bobbed his hand up and down the length of Saitou’s member. Uneasy mouth kissed the tip of Saitou’s dick. Urd  tasted the ocean in Saitou’s skin. He was intoxicated by a faint smell of vinegar and of a nauseating faint odor that reminded him of a clear sticky substance.

“Urd!” Saitou gasped, debauched.

His mouth stopped and his body jerked when he felt a warm wet thing enclose his member.

“Urd.” Breathless, Saitou flustered.

Urd licked Saitou’s length and kissed the fold of the other’s cock. He traced his tongue on the fold of skin. The skin was very sensitive. The member twitched as precum bubbled out of its tip.

Urd’s mouth shyly planted wet kisses on Saitou’s length.

“If you do more than this.. I’m gonna.”

Urd wanted Saitou to work his tongue on him more.

“Stop talking, more sucking.” Urd crooned as he took him out for a moment.

“You’re as demanding as you usually are.”

Urd flustered and kissed Saitou’s testicles. Saitou pulled Urd’s trousers, and bit him softly earning a moan from the other.

“Aah~ bastard…!”

It was the first time that Saitou had heard of such lilt, and probably the last time he would ever hear of it.

---

Urd woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. He looked around and saw that Saitou was at the balcony already dressed for their appointment. Urd went to the bathroom to take a bath. The things that happened that morning rushed backto him: Saitou’s touch, the feel of his mouth, and his dick rubbing against his testicles as he fucked his thighs all came back to him.

Did he know he wasn’t actually drunk? That’s why he held him like that?

Outside Saitou checked his phone.

come home soon~ love you.

There were two missed calls from Ferid. He scrolled down his messages and read their early conversations. It was all he could do to forget what happened that morning.

But it was difficult. Urd felt and tasted better than he had imagined. He had fantasized about doing lewd things to him, like Urd’s mouth sucking on his mouth and abusing his lips, like his tongue clumsily pushing his own and wrapping around it awkwardly, and his hands wrapping around his member that stood in salutation for him. As they lay side by side, sucking each other off, he wanted to fuck him really badly, but he couldn’t because he shouldn’t. Urd won’t be able to stand if they did. Saitou didn’t know how to hold himself back if he begged him though.

And as expected he smelled nice; he smelled of dior perfume and sweat. He tasted brandy on his tongue when they kissed. Urd’s drunken breath was hot against his skin as the other breathed on his flesh.

That was one crazy early morning fuck. Footsteps woke Saitou from his fantasies. He saw Urd already dressed, wearing a high collared long sleeves buttoned to the last button. He looked elegant and beautiful. He couldn’t believe that he had already tasted such a fine man. He didn’t regret that he allowed him to cum inside his mouth. In fact he was proud he swallowed all of Urd’s cum to the last drop.  Saitou licked his upper lip and smacked his lips at the memory.

Urd acted like he wasn't bothered about what happened early that morning. His face was as laconic as ever, and his treatment of not minding Saitou still did not change, but his nape was red. Thanks to his outfit it was hidden.

“Hey.” Saitou greeted.

you felt incredible.

Urd raised his eyes to him. His steely eyes glared at him. Instead of feeling unpleasant, Saitou’s world stopped. There was something that was different about Urd.  He looked refreshed and charming. His usual gloomy and unapproachable aura was no more. It made Urd appear even more desirable to him.

Urd sauntered towards him adjusting his collar.

“Let’s eat. You told me you wanted to go home early for your boy toy. Now hurry up so that we could both go home.”