#so funny how in legacy of the force everyone recognizes him as 'the guy with Grey Gloves and a Weird Dog'

[redbean-nom]

Jaing's weird gloves

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

If Lily and Lenin had a child what do you suppose it would look like? (I'm very much looking forward to seeing the Egg from "Wearing the faces of men" hatch) Would Lenin even want to have children? Or would it be an Oopise? PS: I ship those two so much, you literally have no idea. I really hope that your main work has a happy ending (because I'm a basic bitch) but I would honestly just love reading it however it ends

Isn’t that the question of the hour?

So, first things first. It’s funny that you bring up the Lily/Lenin children scenario because for most of the other pairings I’ve written Lee/Lily with I have a very good idea of what this kids look like/their personalities/etc. 

Lee and Minato, a daughter named either Naruto or Hari depending if Kushina’s in the picture, because neither of them have any imagination. Looks and acts a lot like Minato, has Lee’s hair texture and some of her facial features.

Lee and Obito, well, for reasons called potential spoilers for “Finishing the Hat” I won’t get into it, but take my word for it that I know what the children are like almost embarrassingly well. 

Lily and Wizard Lenin though, honestly, that’s for some reason harder for me to picture and I can’t quite explain why. And it’s not the pairing, clearly, they’re the main deal in “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus”, they’re just hard to picture. But let’s try, it’ll be an adventure for all of us.

First, the easier question, does Wizard Lenin want children? No. First, being immortal, he has a) no need for a legacy/immortality in the form of children and b) he’s guaranteed to outlive said children unless they pull some seriously gnarly shit. I think having an heir would be the most compelling argument but since he intends to live and rule the world forever what’s the point of that? It’d just give everyone the wrong idea. Worse, the kid might get the wrong idea and try to kill him to take the throne. And then there’d have to be an execution and it’d all get very messy. 

More than that though, he would completely panic at the idea of fatherhood. He never had any family of his own, basically raised himself (and did a craptastic job at that), and has no idea what good fathers even do. More, he knows exactly how difficult he was as a child and teenager (especially since being forced to confront Wizard Trotsky). The idea of having to deal with a young Tom Riddle himself? He’d probably laugh and then he’d cry. 

Then of course, while Wizard Lenin is above such things as attachment to other human beings, I think he’d recognize that having this squishy, mortal thing, that will inevitably die while he reigns the cosmos would be really depressing. And if they have kids you’d get this long line of descendants to which Wizard Lenin is this weird ageless god uncle. Can you imagine those family reunions? Yikes.

So children for Wizard Lenin would definitely be an “oopsie”. An “oopsie” likely involving a copious amount of alcohol, suppressed feelings, and a much older Lily.

I picture maybe fifty or sixty years in the hypothetical future where everything goes Wizard Lenin’s way and he and Lily get over their current tiff. Wizard Lenin’s still ageless and Lily’s now a creepy adult who’s stopped aging and looks like an elf from Lord of the Rings. He’s been ruling forever, it’s boring, all his original followers are dead and his second generation followers (i.e. Draco Malfoy) are old men, and now becoming a Death Eater is a prestigious competitive ridiculous thing for eager eyed youngsters. Lily wanders the world/cosmos, is on speed dial but tries not to make messes too often for Wizard Lenin (which is hard because he now rules everything), and is desperately trying to keep busy despite the fact that she has nothing to do. Lily’s his pretty much wife except he’s never married her because god emperors don’t need wives (unless, of course, he got tired of people trying to get him to marry wizarding nobility and he just couldn’t take it anymore). They reminisce about the good old days, Wizard Lenin probably confess that it was a lot more fun chasing the car than actually reaching the car, Lily probably talks about all the traumatizing adventures she’s had with robots, alcohol gets involved, then unprotected sex then, SURPRISE!

But anyways, right, what the children look like.

First, we have the “what the fuck” option that always must be considered when mating with a god. Lily could give birth to herself in a very traumatizing experience for both her and Wizard Lenin. It could be just a giant ball of mysterious light. It could be Rabbit. It could be some mysterious green eyed shadow blob that eats children. It could just be a regular mysterious blob. It could be The Key/Dawn Summers and look/act like a perfectly normal child until Wizard Lenin discovers it’s actually something so horrifying and inhuman it’s been disguised as a human child by monks with too much time on their hands.

But let’s take this a little more seriously/get to what you were probably asking me for. Though the “what the fuck” option is always a hilarious one to consider. 

So appearance, the hair’s probably going to take after Wizard Lenin’s in color just because of how genetics work. They could have anywhere from auburn to black hair. I’m going to go with auburn because I enjoy red. It’s probably thick and probably curly. 

Eyes are probably going to be anywhere from green to blue but more likely to be blue for similar reasons. 

Since Wizard Lenin and Lily are both ungodly pale creatures the kids, sadly, will not be able to tan. However, being Wizard Lenin’s children and the heirs to his empire, they’re probably not allowed to do anything so pedantic as tan. 

My first thought was that any kid should not be good looking. They should have all the right bone structure, thick eyelashes, hair, etc. to be good looking but too much of Lily’s intrinsic weird seeps in and you just get these kids who look like they should have walked out of “Children of the Corn”. 

But since I promised we’d stray from the “what the fuck” option they’d likely be very good looking kids. Wizard Lenin’s gorgeous and I always imagine Lily grows up to be a very attractive adult.

But descriptions are boring, I can doodle.

Let’s say that the “oopsie” produces a set of twins. 

First, we have the daughter, who clearly takes a lot after Lily both in appearance and personality.

Likely, when Wizard Lenin got over his existential/fatherhood crisis he and Lily bickered for months over names. Both are convinced the other is terrible at naming children. Both of them are right.

In the end I imagine they flip coins for who gets the middle name vs. first name.

Wizard Lenin wins the coin toss and we get: Mab Luthien Riddle

Mab at first is a plucky young girl but shifts into a moody teenager. Despite being powerful she’s well aware that she has two monolith reputations to live up to: Wizard Lenin and Lily’s. More, she clearly has a role for her to live out and fill and she wants some independence! This causes a lot of teen angst.

She goes from wearing very expensive wizarding robes to whatever the equivalent of hipster is in the distant future. I just stuck her in plaid with shades because I have no imagination. 

She gets sorted into Gryffindor, because anyone who’s willing to be a punk to Wizard Lenin has guts. This, of course, is terrible for everyone. However, especially for Wizard Lenin, because can you imagine him dealing with a teenage daughter?

Second, we have a son, who has the K-pop/Legolas/Sasuke pretty boy good looks that have fourteen year old girls scribbling hearts with their names together in notebooks and writing some seriously bad fanfiction.

Continuing on with the atrocious/nerd name theme we have: Mordred Beren Riddle

He’s a far more sensitive soul, to the point where everyone wonders how the hell he fits into this disaster family/came from two giant assholes. Regardless, he is, he tries his best to please his father and live up to expectations. So he keeps his fancy robes, cries thanks to Wizard Lenin’s mean words, and eventually gets sorted into Hufflepuff.

Thanks to his sensitive nature and good looks he’s the tween heart throb of Hogwarts. His sister is dying.

These are all hypothetical kids of course. If I ever were to write something involving Lily and Wizard Lenin’s kids, I’m not sure it’d be these two that show up (in fact I’m 99% sure it won’t be).

But I hope you guys had as much fun on this brain storming journey as I did.

As for that happy ending in the main story, well, I think it’s happy. Whether the rest of you will agree with me I’ll leave to the end of the story. Whenever we get there.

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 10: Endings

The posts that have been going around about all these bad, nonsensical, random tv endings we’ve been seeing recently (GOT, T100, SPN), have made me think about what makes a good television ending in my opinion.

I admit that concluding a series is probably quite tricky because most shows, if they’re not miniseries, are conceived without a known end point in mind. A show runner can build an idea around a 5-season arc, but he might not actually get 5 seasons. He might only get 1. Or he might get 10, if the show is popular. So unlike a movie or a novel, the first episodes need to set up a general premise, a universe, a theme, but not necessarily a specific plot with X number of specific plot points leading to a pre-ordained conclusion. There has to be a flexibility to the narrative. But when the whole thing is completed, it should feel, ideally, as if it WAS pre-ordained, as if the show was always meant to have as many seasons as it got and was working toward its conclusion the whole time.

So, roughly, I think shows that stick the landing do so because the showrunner knows what the show is, at its core, about, and crafts a finale that relates to the central theme(s) and brings the main narrative to a logical and emotionally resonant conclusion. 

This is very rough and very general, and it’s a formula that applies more to some shows than others. TV is incredibly varied after all. I mean, first off, not all shows know their last season is their last season going in. You can’t judge the final episodes of, to use two examples of shows I liked that were unceremoniously axed recently, The Society or Altered Carbon as “finale episodes” because they were never meant to be finales. Then you have a show like My So-Called Life, which does have a Classic ending, despite ending all too soon--mostly because every episode of that show was classic, and it only had one season, so its season finale being a fitting ending to the season automatically means its series finale was a fitting ending to the series.

(It’s such an outlier that I can’t really compare it to anything but honestly--this is how to do an open-ended cliffhanger and still make it feel like a conclusion. But that’s a whole different post.)

My formula above also doesn’t apply well to sitcoms, because they aren’t really about anything, in terms of plot. Like the name says, they set up situations: a group of people who are family, co-workers, friends, and then lets those situations play out in a funny manner for as long as there are jokes to tell. Sitcoms to me end well if they don’t overstay their welcome, if they remain true to the characters (because it’s the characters, not the minimal narrative, that defines the show), and if they hit an appropriate ‘ending’ tone. But the biggest thing for me is if the sitcom went on for too many seasons. Even if the final episode isn’t the greatest, it’s fine. But if the last 2-4 seasons were lackluster, it tarnishes the whole legacy.

‘Procedural’ type shows are yet another category, and I’m not entirely sure how to characterize those, or what makes a strong ending for that sub-genre. I’m using ‘procedural’ broadly to include, like, Bad Guy of the Week type shows--for example, Charmed, which I thought should have ended after S7. Again, I think it’s about not letting the whole thing go on too long, and then staying true to characters and tone in the finale itself.

So looking just at dramas that have a season’s warning before their finale--which, really, are the type of shows that are most likely to make people ANGRY with shitty endings, because they lure the viewer in with the idea that a singular, coherent story is being told. Maybe it’s convoluted. Maybe it’s winding. Maybe it’s hard to tell where they’re going with this. But if it all comes together in the end, none of that matters--and if it doesn’t come together, what was the point of all the seasons that came before? It becomes, retroactively, a betrayal.

The more plot-driven the show (if it has a mystery, a conspiracy theory, a quest), the greater the betrayal if all fizzles out. But I think the same feeling can arise from shoddy conclusions in dramas more generally. The L Word is one of my comfort shows but that last season is a MESS all the way down, the finale especially. There definitely wasn’t a point to anything, and it wasn’t even entertaining as, like, a dramatic soap.

But then I think about shows whose endings I really liked. For example, Six Feet Under had a great final season and one of the best finale episodes/ending sequences ever. The show up to that point had been about death, and that theme had always been centered most particularly on Nate: his fears of the family business, his previous brushes with death because of his AVM, etc. So of course the show had to end by killing one of its mains, coming full circle with the pilot, showing real grief hitting home--and of course Nate’s personal journey as the main character had to end with his death. Everything about the conclusion was fitting, not even counting the final montage.

I also really liked the conclusion of Big Love, for similar reasons: it was thoughtful, and it successfully teased out the main strands, both of plot and theme, that had run through the show up to that point. The most important thing had always been depicting this family, their problems but also their strength and their love for each other--so, as the showrunners said, it had to conclude by showing you that the family survives. They are strong, and their bonds endure. But the ending was, and had to be, bittersweet too, because anything less would seem to sweep under the rug the real tragedies of the last seasons. Not everyone gets happy endings. And the unhappy endings relate specifically to the toxic patriarchy that’s haunted all of the characters from the pilot. Alby has a chance to turn away from his father and the compound life--but the forces arrayed against him were too strong, so there was no deus ex machina for him, and he ultimately just became fully the evil villain. And Bill is taken out not by the state or by the compound but by an aggrieved man who feels he’s been emasculated, forgotten, who is raging against being so Unseen. What a way to make clear what the common denominator in all of the threats of the past 5 seasons has been.

I also give major points to shows whose finales feel like they’re trying, even if they’re imperfect, especially if the imperfections are because of factors outside the showrunner’s control. For example, I saw someone list Dollhouse as one of their ‘worst endings’ but I have to disagree. I like the ending of Dollhouse. It wasn’t supposed to be 2 seasons. That’s well known. But that’s how many seasons it got, and I think honestly they turned that into a plus rather than a minus. Dollhouse was its best when it was rushing to a conclusion, when it was fast-paced and exciting. Did it always make complete sense? No. Were there some pretty big holes in the plot? Yeah--S2′s Big Bad was absolutely and transparently a retcon instituted between S1 and S2 and I get that, and I forgive the show for that. I thought bifurcating the epilogue as two extra episodes after each of the two seasons was genius, and I liked that it allowed the show to have its cake and eat it too: a happy ending, with the main, immediate, singular Big Bad eliminated, at the end of S2, and a more bittersweet, more complicated, post-apoc ending in the bonus episode. Yeah, I can see the seams; I know there were a lot of constructed work arounds in there because the show was intended to be longer. I think the ending was presented in good faith.

I also, perhaps controversially, liked the ending of Veronica Mars (the original 3-season show; I didn’t see the reboot). The way the season aired was weird and didn’t do it any favors: having a long break before the last couple of episodes, which existed outside of the two Big Case arcs of S3, makes those final stories feel tacked on and random. Basically impossible to have a strong finish with that kind of structure. But the very end of the last ep had the bitter, dark feel of a noir, which is what the show was, a mash up of a noir and a high school drama. I liked that they leaned on the noir rather than the high school aspect, because it was the more creative way to go imo. Also, I appreciated that S3, in general, learned from S2′s mistakes. Yes, the college years are always going to be lackluster compared to high school, in any series that starts with its characters in high school. But VM recognized that no overarching mystery was going to compare to the Lilly Kane murder, so it split the Big Mystery into two Medium Sized mysteries, and I thought that was smart. All of which makes me inclined to think fondly of the conclusion. As with Dollhouse, its weakest points seem to be compromises it had to make, not really its fault but just an inevitable imperfection of the form.

It’s pretty easy to list aspects of a bad ending: a sense that events are arbitrary, a disrespect of characters, a rushed construction, a jarring tone, and most importantly a disconnect between the finale and what came before. If the show appeared to be a narrative (as opposed to a situation), but it doesn’t feel like a complete and coherent whole at the end, then the conclusion was bad.

I didn’t watch GOT or SPN and I stopped watching T100 at the end of S4 (though I do feel confident from tumblr that the ending was Bad), so I have somewhat of a hard time thinking of shows that I thought had really bad endings. I can think of dissatisfying endings that came from shows being cancelled without warning. I can think of shows that lasted too long in general or otherwise had fallen from their greatest heights by the time they limped to a conclusion (unpopular opinion: Friends fits in this category--that show should have been 4 seasons, maybe 5 tops; Boy Meets World and Dawson’s Creek are comfort show favorites of mine but they both should have ended with high school, like, pretty objectively speaking; iZombie started a slow downturn after S2 and by the end of S4 was kinda unwatchable. I literally stopped halfway through the finale.). I can even think of shows that lost me by the end even though objectively they probably had good endings (for example, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend--I couldn’t get through S4 and the finale sounded... technically well-constructed but like it would have driven me nuts).

But then I guess most shows with shitty finales technically had shitty last seasons in general. Truly notorious crash-and-burns don’t come out of nowhere. I mean I’m sure there are counter-examples to this (what’s that one with the kid and the snow globe lol?) but unless you try for a weird last-minute twist, or unless you’ve got your audience hoping against hope that an impossibly twisty story is actually very smart instead of very ill-planned, it’s generally clear before the last episode if a narrative has lost its way. I don’t tend to watch a lot of ‘twisty-turny conspiracy’ shows, and when I do I am supremely skeptical all the way through, so it’s hard for me to think of examples I’ve personally watched of a last minute “what the fuck was that” conclusion.

[foxofsunholt]

How would the ros act if due to time travel schenanigens they met their children before they got together with the mc? What would they say to the child and the mc? How would they feel?

This ask was really interesting, thank you for sending it in! I kept trying to make it more light-hearted, but in the FOS-world, the idea of fate is very strong—any one of these characters confronted with the idea of what their future would assume that’s what’ll happen 100%. For some characters, the implication of that is too great–the extreme disconnect between the idea of them eventually having a family against what their current situation is…is just too…jarring? It should be a hopeful sign, but it would wack them in the face like a raw fish, esp. pre-getting together with the MC in which they’re just ripe with emotional issues.

Anyway my point is this really ran away from me ajskhdkajdh

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━      

    Colette is thrilled to meet her parents, but she keeps her lips sealed about the nature of her birth. She is blonde and smiles without shame–she looks so much like Adelaide that a connection can no longer be denied. Adelaide hugs her daughter, weeps into her arms at the very idea—that one day her life is happy. Colette is eager to know The Fox of Sunholt beyond what she has heard in stories; to get to live through the legacy of her parents. Adelaide will not discuss the logistics, but she pulls you aside and speaks with excited whispers. Look at what this means, she says, it means we win. Colette is hope, and everything Adelaide could have wished for and more.

But Adelaide has never spoken of her affections for you, and with news of your child in the future, she concerns herself with never speaking of it. Colette tells you of a great love-story–yours. She speaks with reverence and her words feel like a lie. You ask her why she’s never told Adelaide about these stories (which you still don’t think are real). She grows very quiet; she reminds you a lot of yourself like that, as she tries to make herself small. She said she doesn’t want to hear it, your daughter confesses. You feel her pain as she tries to hide her love for the both of you away, for Adelaide’s sake.

The future can be bright and beautiful, she’s addressing the people of Sunholt and for the first time you notice the way her lips quiver when she lies. Colette is just a symbol of a future Adelaide pretends to believe in.

When faced with the truth, the princess cowers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Theodore and Theodosia know better than to incur their mother’s ire, so they only tell you about the circumstance of their being. It’s clear they’re uncomfortable around Camille. Confused, you ask them why. It’s Theo who answers, picking at the dirt under his nails. She’s just really..different. But the magic the twins use is hard to hide, their techniques proof of secrets passed through Camille’s family. The idea of this ‘future’ unnerves her. The thought, the mere idea, that her life turns out okay is horrifying. What had all her pain been for? What then is the point of all her work? And how–how in the name of Seven is this magical future supposed to happen? As far as she’s concerned, their future is not hers. Vehemently she denies it, and them.

And in doing so, she pulls from you. She might run, one day, if her loyalty to Adelaide did not anchor her to this journey. Everything is just something waiting to go wrong–and knowing there is a life out there with you–that is something she’d never be able to accept the inevitable ruining of.

You get to know your children well, but they don’t recognize their mother. And you find yourself knowing Camille less.

I wanted to set the world on fire, she tells you, standing over ash and rubble, now what?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━��━━

Ares runs with his arms open to hug you immediately, and then to Mars. He doesn’t think about the implications of being so open about his parents, he’s just happy to see the two of you. It is a shock to see the brave warrior he knows to be his father suddenly a stiff and grumpy man, but his boundless energy is enough to cancel out even Mars’ awkwardness–most of the time, at least. Mars himself struggles to bring the topic up with you, or Ares. He insists this is some trick, he tries to draw away from you but he misses you too much when you are apart. He has not accepted that Ares is his son, or that there is some future with you–but he takes it in stride, best he can.

One day, when Ares is fast asleep, Mars gathers the courage to speak. What does it mean? He asks and you shrug. Might he be an impostor? You shake your head, Ares is too honest for that. And what do you think? Do you—do you really believe that we–that there’s— Words catch in his throat and confidence dies on his tongue.

There is an idea of the future that Mars has always had. It is one lived alone in a world of blacks & whites. There is no place for love in his future, but he asks you if you’ll allow him to be wrong, just this once.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kai stumbles into the group with a bloody nose and a crooked grin. He smiles the way Faith does, with mischief behind his teeth. You make the connection instantly, though he denies sharing any details of his parents. Your stomach twists as you eventually piece together who the other-half is in this equation. Me? You shout one night, dangling your feet into a cold lake with Kai silently by your side. He frowns but nods and draws a finger to his lips. If you tell her, she’ll run—then I’ll poof outta existence. That’s how future stuff works, right? He’s astute, he gets that from you.

The future is scary, that’s what Faith tells you. She says it’s her biggest fear and then laughs as though it’s merely a joke. Behind her veneer of flirtation and confidence there is a woman who is so deeply afraid and you gather that she knows. You don’t talk about it, or who Kai is. It would ruin something, you think, and even Kai feels it.

One day, he tells you, you two will be really happy, I promise. I’m not gonna get in the way of you guys gettin’ there. Then he pauses, never one for physical affection he succumbs to the urge to hug you. I love you both and I’m sorry.

As it turns out, even without the conversation, Faith runs.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lucy is nonchalant about it. Sid is a little less. A kid! As far as he’s concerned, it’s great news. He hugs her first hard and tight and she has to pry him away. Then he hugs you, with just as much force. He laughs loud and he holds you close. It’s great, he says this over and over again as though he’s trying to convince himself of it. Lucy isn’t very talkative, you think she gets her need of privacy from you. Sid is louder than normal, forcing out a friendliness that’s uncharacteristic even for him.

This means we make it out okay, he says, it also means we’ve got somethin’ special to be fightin’ for–not just an idea. But what does it mean for you two? You’re friends, naturally, but a child? Sid seems unconcerned with speaking of the logistics here. Tactfully, he avoids the topic altogether and tries his best to act unchanged with the knowledge.

It’s weird, Lucy tells you, seeing you both like this. When you quirk your brow at her, she elaborates. Unhappy, I mean.

Sid is at his ship, your knife pressed to his throat. it’s strange, ain’t it? He says, arms thrown up in the air, you’d think knowing it’ll all be okay would make this a lot easier, wouldn’t it?

It’s just funny! Lucy groans in frustration, you denying her a mug of ale, you two are supposed to be like gross and– she presses the tips of her fingers together, stammering through poorly attempted kissing noises. –but it’s nothing like that!

You run your hand over where Sid’s blood has burnt through the steel of your blade. Fate is wrong, Sid told you once, a lifetime ago, destiny’s never set in stone–life’d be too easy if it were.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Juno and Bora ambush you in the words, snickering behind hand-crafted fox masks. Yoon regales you with an old tale about two trickster spirits, Juno can’t keep herself from jumping in and finishing the story–which spurs Bora hitting her sister behind her head, which then results in Juno retaliating and what once felt like a threat against your life has dissolved into childish bickering between two siblings. Needless to say, they’re bad at keeping secrets.

You know what this means, you let Yoon’s suggestive joke drift through the air. The Fey population is dwindling.

But it all feels like a joke, perhaps because Yoon takes nothing with seriousness. His children are amused by his apathy for only so long, before they turn to you, finding that your pessimism is equally as unamusing.

The world’s a lot less sad in the future, Juno tries to tell you, Colette and Theo and I collect frogs from the lake behind the castle and then ‘Dosia gets really mad ‘cause Theo puts them in her bag but you an’ Dad always laugh! Not at ‘Dosia, ‘cause that would be mean, but when we tell you about our day you get like— she mimics a smile, you shoot her a look of confusion.

Forget it, Bora interjects, no one ever tells us what it was like during the war, it’s like everyone’s trying to…

Hide it in ‘Dosia’s bag!

…Metaphorically.

Yeah, duh, not really, ‘cause that’s where the frogs go.

They tell you stories of the future, of their friends and the school you will help to build. Yoon sits and listens to them one day, his face unreadable. There is a conversation to be had, you and Yoon are due for a lot of those. In lieu of one he takes you to that lake behind the castle—which is not a lake at all but a Rot-stained swamp. He presses his palm against the corrupted trunk of a nearby tree, letting it burn through his skin, blood tricking down the bark. Imagine a child playing here and tell me it doesn’t sound like a lie.

You have a hard time telling him any different.

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (27)

Let’s enjoy ourselves, dammit

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: about 3,700 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up where we left off, as Hana, Maxwell, and Olivia arrive at the cabin, starting with Amara’s POV.

*****

Amara, Hana, and Maxwell jump up in the air, shrieking, for a good thirty seconds, until they realize that Liv is behind them, looking annoyed as hell. Without thinking, Amara wraps Olivia in a tight hug.

‘Liv! It’s so good to see you, girl!’

‘Ugh,’ Liv says, disgusted, ‘keep your hands off of me, Suarez, before some paparazzi thinks we’re having an affair.’

Amara lets her go, and looks her in the eye. ‘Are you ok? Like, for real?’

‘Yeah,’ Liv responds, rolling her eyes. ‘I was told this would be relaxing. Clearly it doesn’t mean for me.’

Drake pops his head through the door. ‘Of course you can relax, Nevrakis. Come on in guys. Amara made drinks, and there’s a shitton of food.’

Maxwell comes in first, and wraps Drake in a bear hug. Amara feels like her heart might explode. ‘Thanks for having us, Drake. We missed you guys.’

Hana hugs Drake too, and chimes in, ‘It’s true! What would we do without Dramara?’

Liv rolls her eyes and sighs. ‘Walker, where’s the drink you were talking about?’

*****

Liam glances at his phone, finally a text from Drake.

Hey, sorry I missed your calls, I’m tied up at the cabin and reception is terrible, catch up tomorrow? Hope all is good.

Dismissive, but it’s something. Liam sighs. Only five minutes until his next meeting. In the end, he’s glad Bastien talked him out of going to the cabin unannounced. Bastien was right, he wouldn’t have had enough time to make it back to his meetings, and he had one with the Ambassador of Greece.

He feels silly all of a sudden, being so needy towards his friend, after they had such a complicated few weeks. Sure, he’d been there for Drake after Jackson died, but who wouldn’t have? Plus, Drake had been there for him countless times before, and after that. So, really, he doesn’t know why he’s counting points right now. He types back.

No worries. I’ll see you in Portavira tomorrow.

Typing bubbles.

Why don’t you come by the cabin for lunch? I’m having the Beaumonts over, Hana, Liv, and Amara.

Liam catches himself sighing in relief. He wasn’t being completely iced out. Maybe Drake was really busy, maybe there was some maintenance problem at the cabin, maybe it was all in Liam’s head. He replies as fast as he can, before Drake changes his mind.

I would love to. Is noon ok? We have to be at Penelope’s estate at 3.

The bubbles come back.

Perfect. See you then. Don’t bring anything.

Heh, Drake knows him well. He was already thinking about which vintage bottle of wine to bring. Liv will be there, which he’s thrilled about. He’ll get to see how she’s doing, without having to do it one-on-one again. Less awkward.

A knock on the door. One of his butlers, George, peeks his head in.

‘Your Highness, Miss Ioanna Papadakis, Assistant to the Ambassador of Greece.’

Surprised, Liam promptly answers, ‘Let her in, thank you George.’

*****

Drake puts his phone away and joins the crowd outside on the patio. Everyone is already moderately tipsy, thanks to the strong margaritas prepared by Amara.

‘Guys,’ Drake announces, ‘Liam said yes to lunch here tomorrow.’

Maxwell nods, ‘Good, I’m glad you two touched base. He was distressed today.’

‘Thanks for telling me,’ Drake says, grabbing his glass again. ‘I can’t believe that Bertrand covered for us. I’m in shock.’

Hana swallows her sip of margarita. ‘It was glorious, Drake, you should have seen it. He lied for you, just like that! And thank goodness, because Max and I were at a loss for words, and Liam looked very suspicious.’

‘It doesn’t matter if you manage to cover it up or not,’ Liv says, breaking her silence. ‘when it comes out, and it will come out, Liam will be furious.’

Drake doesn’t know what to say to this. She’s probably right, but he doesn’t need this right now, and neither does Amara. He looks at her, she’s nodding and frowning, staring intently at her glass. Finally, she speaks.

‘You’re probably right, Liv, but what do you suggest, then? That we stop living our lives? That we break up? That we just jump out the window?’

Drake didn’t expect Amara to react so viscerally. Upon hearing her say ‘break up’, his heart shattered. No, he certainly doesn’t want that. He glances at Liv, who went even paler than usual.

‘I’m sorry, Suarez,’ Liv finally says. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I know, things are shit, but it doesn’t mean that we stop ourselves from living our lives in the meantime. Let’s enjoy ourselves, dammit.’ She raises her glass and says ‘It obviously pains me to say this, but cheers to all of you guys, who are...pretty decent people. I guess.’

Amara finally breaks into a smile and clinks her glass to Liv’s. ‘Very heartfelt, Nevrakis. I’m almost tearing up.’

‘Shut up,’ Olivia replies. ‘Before we all get super drunk and Beaumont inevitably forces us to play Never Have I Ever or some shit--’

‘Ohh, good idea,’ Maxwell whispers.

Liv glares at him. ‘I was saying, before we get shitfaced, there’s something I want to say. I’m ok. Don’t worry about me. I’m dealing with all of this, and I don’t need to talk about it.’

Amara smiles and nods, until she finally talks. ‘You know we’re here for you, if you need, though. But before we change the topic, can I ask you an inappropriate question?’

Liv sighs. ‘Yes.’

‘How is Ilya coping? I mean, his dick was under everyone’s plate.’

Drake almost chokes on his margarita. Olivia chuckles, and responds, ‘You know what’s funny? I hadn’t even wondered about that until Rashad asked me. To me, Ilya was never anything more than, well, his dick. Never occurred to me that there might be a man attached to the genitals.’

Amara raises her glass and her eyebrow. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

*****

‘Wait, so you mean there’s someone out there blackmailing everyone?’

He doesn’t know how they got here, drinking whiskey in the middle of the afternoon and talking about his life. He simply had offered her a drink, and next thing he knew, he was pouring more than whiskey. There was no stopping the flow of words, and Ioanna was not even attempting to make it stop.

‘Well, I wouldn’t really say blackmailing,’ Liam responds, ‘because so far, no one has asked for anything in return. Just revealing private things about two of the contestants, and hopefully it stops right here.’

Ioanna whistles, and says, ‘Forgive me, Your Highness--’

‘Liam. Please call me Liam. Our official meeting is over.’

She nods. ‘Sure. Liam. I don’t mean to be indiscreet, but do you know who that might come from? Maybe one of the contestants who is trying to keep your favors?’

‘Could be. Honestly for right now there’s not much I can do, I put my bodyguard and the security team on the case, they’re looking for clues.’

‘Wow,’ Ioanna says, shaking her head.

It felt good to talk to someone, even a complete stranger. He had met Ioanna before, he recognizes her, but they’d never talked. He’d always talked to the Ambassador, but today he had the stomach flu, so Ioanna filled in.

‘Thank you for listening,’ he says, smiling brightly. ‘I didn’t mean to bore you with my life story.’

She dismisses him with a hand gesture. ‘Please. Your life story is everything but boring.’

He chuckles. ‘Thanks. I don’t know if it makes me feel better. Oh, and thank you for filling in today. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy the Ambassador’s company, but it was lovely to get to spend some time with you.’

She laughs lightheartedly. ‘I’ll be sure not to tell him that, and just so you know, I enjoyed our meeting too. Thanks for having me.’

They say their goodbyes, and Liam lets his next meeting in.

‘Bertrand! Hello again.’

Bertrand looks stressed. He is dressed way too formally, even though Liam told him this morning that it was going to be more of a friendly chat regarding Barthélémy Beaumont’s legacy. Bertrand is wearing a black tuxedo, and underneath, instead of his usual sweater vest, he has a bright blue cumberbund, embroidered with satin in the shape of little squids. Liam wonders for a second whether he lost his top hat and his monocle.

‘Hello, Your Highness,’ Bertrand responds formally, curtsying. ‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Thanks for coming, come have a seat, and maybe let’s have a little drink, huh? We’re just gonna have a friendly chat, so you can relax.’

Bertrand nods and sits down, visibly a tad relieved. ‘Yes, well,’ he says, still nervous, ‘I would like to seek your council on the best way to announce that my father loved a man, without harming his memory. My brother and I talked about it, we researched Father’s long-time partner, and as it turns out, he passed away last year. Maybe we could do something in their name, like a donation to an LGBTQ foundation?’

Liam smiles broadly. ‘Wow, Bertrand, that is extremely thoughtful. I don’t think any of this would ever harm your father’s memory. Maybe you and Max could draft a statement, I can take a look at it when it’s convenient, and we can put all that in place together. We’ll call an official announcement.’

Bertrand’s smile relaxes slightly. ‘That would be great. After you left this morning, Maxxie and I drafted something already. Here’s a paper copy, and I will send it to you via email as well.’

‘Wow, you guys are efficient,’ Liam says as he pours the scotch.

‘Ha! Well, we want it done as soon as possible. I’m itching to fire that… that weasel Albert, who’s been blackmailing all of us for years. I want to do that once we have made the announcement, though. We don’t want Albert twisting the truth or taking over the announcement.’

Liam nods, ‘Of course. Let’s get this show on the road, then.’

*****

‘Never have I ever slept with a woman!’ Liv slurs, pleased with herself.

‘No fair!’ Maxwell squeals. ‘I never win either way in this type of thing.’

Hana reluctantly has another sip, although she definitely is tipsier than ever and does not need any more alcohol. After he finishes drinking, Drake says, ‘Don’t take the bait, Max, it was a ploy to make us all drink except Amara. These two are going for a face-off.’

Amara laughs, and takes her turn. ‘Never have I ever… owned a squid suit!’

‘Amara!’ Maxwell yelps. ‘You betrayed me, you little bastard.’ He drinks another big gulp, and pursues, ‘I never thought my beautiful squid suit would be the death of me.’

‘Alright Max, your turn,’ Amara says, laughing.

‘Hmmm,’ Max hums, in an exaggerated thinking pose. ‘Never have I ever had sex on these very lawn chairs.’

‘Come on, Max,’ Hana giggles, ‘that’s too specific, and who would do that outsi--Oh…’

She interrupts herself as she notices both Drake and Amara taking a huge gulp from their drinks, all the while trying to contain their laughter.

‘Sorry hun,’ Amara says, after finishing her sip. ‘I promise we cleaned them, though.’

Hana laughs, blushing, ‘Oh, good to know. I mean, get it girl, or, like Bertrand would say, Yass Kween.’

Liv lets out a throaty laugh. ‘What? Bertrand said what?’

Max snorts, ‘Yeah, I made him watch Queer Eye and now there’s no stopping him! He’s going full Jonathan Van Ness on us!’

‘Wow,’ Liv continues, ‘he’s gotten woke ever since he found out that your dad liked dick.’

‘Olivia!’ Amara cries out.

Max smiles sadly. ‘It’s ok, Amara, we might as well laugh about it, right? I knew when I told Liv, that there would be no stopping the jokes, so here we are.’ He takes another sip. ‘Bertrand is coping well, actually. I’m proud of him.’

Liv nods, visibly flushed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound this crass. I know it must have been weird to deal with. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t tell anyone, and I won’t. I’m only talking about it because everyone here knows.’

Max shrugs. ‘I know, Olivia, it’s fine. I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to laugh about it, I prefer it this way. As for Bertrand, he’s always been a bit stuck up, but he’s only been this bad since Dad died and he was left in charge. Before, he had a very sweet side, which I’m starting to see again, little by little. It’s nice to have my brother back.’

Amara’s eyes flutter down, just like every time someone says something like that. She feels Drake’s hand on her knee, discreetly comforting her.

It’s all different now. Someone is there for her.

Several someones. She looks around and feels her heart filling with love, and curses herself right away for being too sappy. Her new, close friends around some drinks, teasing each other and dropping truth bombs. That’s exactly what she needed.

Maybe that’s why she came, after all. That, and the handsome, brooding man from the bar. And to think it was the end of her shift, too. She’d have to thank Daniel for bailing on her that night. Bless his Grindr hookup, really.

Feeling a tear escape from her eye, she takes a deep breath and gets up. ‘Let me refresh your drinks, guys. I’m the bartender after all!’

She disappears into the kitchen with the tray of glasses, and preps some more margaritas. She’ll make them frozen this time. They need a serious buzz.

‘Hey, you ok?’

She turns around and sees Drake approaching her, and soon enough, his arms are around her waist. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look fine,’ he says before kissing her neck.

‘Gee, thanks!’

‘Heh, I meant you look wistful. Was it Max’s brother comment?’

She shakes her head. ‘Oddly, no. I mean, it triggered me a little. Fuck, I would give just about anything for Sergio to be here with all of us.’ Her voice breaks. ‘I miss him even more when something good happens to me, you know. But I don’t want to be the weirdo with the dead brother, I don’t want Max to have to tiptoe around his relationship with Bertrand when I’m here.’

He kisses her neck again. Damn, that’s efficient. ‘You’re not a weirdo. You’re an awesome badass bitch, and you’re hot as hell.’

She giggles. ‘And you’re a hot, drunk mess.’

‘I’m fine, just giggly because of the tequila. I’ll probably have to be supervised while grilling. You changed the subject though. What made you tear up?’ She stays silent and he continues, ‘I saw it, Amara. I know you more than you think.’

She sighs. He really does. ‘I feel stupid saying it. I’m just happy to have met all of you, and, well, remember when I made you watch Jane the Virgin?’

He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner to signify that he hated it, but she knows that he secretly loved it. ‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘You know when her heart glows when it’s full? Well, I felt the same out there, just now. I’m happy to be here with you, and I don’t want it to stop.’

He sniffs her hair, probably wanting to be sneaky, but she hears the sniffing loud and clear. He says, ‘I get it. I feel the same. I’m happy we’re all here, and I hate to say it, but it feels like a last hurrah. Like something bad’s gonna happen.’

‘Exactly. I don’t know if it’s gonna be in Portavira tomorrow, or this weekend at the Decision ball, but I’m not feeling good about the near future.’

He flips her around, and takes both of her hands in his. ‘Do you feel good about the future-future?’

She chuckles, ‘What?’

He shrugs, and brushes his thumb across her hand. ‘I don’t know. Maybe this week is just a bad storm that we have to get through. Maybe we could see it like that. Maybe if we hold on really really tight, during that shitstorm, maybe then, we’ll be ok?’

She throws her arms around his neck and places a long kiss on his lips. ‘I love that. Let’s hold on really tight.’

*****

Liv gets up to go to the bathroom, and realizes to her surprise that her legs can barely carry her. She didn’t have all that much to drink, did she? Well, Suarez’s cocktails are deceptive. They taste good, but they’re all kinds of strong.

Not like last night’s vodka. It tasted like pure alcohol, and it got her just as drunk as she thought it would. The only surprise in all of that, was Rashad.

Why is she even thinking about Rashad right now? She doesn’t have time for this bullshit. She has to watch her back. What if he’s in on it? What if he’s one of the people who exposed her?

Meh, she thinks. She would be really, really surprised. Not because he couldn’t, but because he really wouldn’t have a proper motive. He doesn’t give two shits about court, as long as he can conduct business.

‘Ew, gross,’ she says as she stumbles upon Suarez and Walker making out in the kitchen. ‘The cook and the bartender sucking face, that’s hygienic.’

Suarez laughs, ‘Well you’re a delight.’

Liv shrugs. ‘Do you think I hurt Beaumont’s feelings?’

Walker chimes in, ‘I don’t think so. You didn’t mean anything offensive by it, and it’s Max, not Bertrand. He wasn’t shocked.’

Olivia snorts, ‘True, he’s also very much into dick.’

‘Don’t push your luck, Nevrakis,’ Suarez replies.

‘Alright, I’ll stop. Where’s the bathroom?’

‘There’s one right there, near the stairs on the right.’

‘Thanks.’

On the short walk to the bathroom, she notices a family portrait of the Walkers as kids, and the parents as well. She almost forgot what Jackson Walker looked like. She’d always esteemed him. Honorable guy, willing to lay down his life to save the King’s. Tragic for his family. She thinks of her own, for a split second, just like she does several times a day. She realizes she can’t really remember what her own parents looked like, not without the aid of a photo. She remembers smells, voices, smiles. Not entire faces.

As she washes her hands, she looks at her face. Her makeup is a fucking mess, she’d need to fix it. Or maybe it’s not necessary, it’s just them. No one to impress here.

In one swift motion, she removes her lipstick. It stains the side of her mouth. Dammit, she thinks, in all movies, women are able to remove their makeup seamlessly, why not her? She wets her face until it disappears. She removes the tiny dagger that holds her hair up, until it curls down her shoulders. A while since she let her hair down, literally.

She stares at herself for what feels like a brief moment, but it must have been longer than that, because when she gets out of the bathroom, Suarez is outside, a worried look on her face.

‘Everything ok?’ she asks.

Olivia wants to be annoyed. She wants to tell her to mind her own fucking business. But she can’t. She’s actually touched that she cares. ‘I’m fine. You need the bathroom?’

Suarez shakes her head. ‘No. You look pretty with your hair down.’

Liv stifles a smile. ‘Thanks. And you’re glowing. You two must have fucked like rabbits.’

She laughs, ‘Well, you’re not wrong. But it was a little more elegant than that, I like to think.’

Liv smirks, and walks back to the kitchen alongside Amara. She looks at her pouring the frozen margs into the salt-rimmed glasses.

‘Suarez, you sure we can handle so much booze? I have to admit I’m a little...shitfaced.’

‘Ha! Me too. But Drake is firing up the barbecue, it won’t take long for the burgers and hot dogs to be cooked. He’s setting the table outside, there’s potato salad, coleslaw…’

‘You got yourself a nice little house boyfriend, huh?’

Suarez smiles in a sweet way, completely ignoring what was meant to be a dig. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve been enjoying this. It feels real. Shopping with him, cooking together, being outside in nature--’

‘Fucking outside in nature.’

‘Yeah, that too. But, the normalcy, you know. It did something to me. Made me realize some stuff.’ She stops herself and shrugs, chopping a lime to put some slices on the glasses.

‘Suarez?’ Liv asks hesitantly.

‘Yeah?’

She takes a deep breath. Damn you, margarita. ‘You know when you said that I might have been too focused on Liam to see anything else?’

‘Yeah, I remember saying something super insightful along those lines. Go on.’

Liv chuckles. ‘Well, I… Don’t make a big deal about it, and don’t run your big mouth. But um, last night, I think I had a moment. With someone else.’

Suarez looks up from her cutting board, her eyes widening. Liv worries that she might cut herself until she puts the knife away. ‘What? You met someone in just one night? As Bertrand would say, apparently, Yass Kween!’

‘Calm down, bitch. It’s not like that. Nothing happened, it was just a nice moment, but when you said being here made you realize some stuff, I thought of last night. It did the same for me.’

Suarez nods, and breaks into a broad smile. ‘I’m happy for you, Liv.’

She shrugs. ‘Well, it’s probably nothing, but it made me feel good.’ She pauses. ‘Valued.’

‘That’s great. You deserve this much, and more. Do we know this gentleman?’

Liv sighs. She has no idea why she’s telling her all that stuff. ‘It’s Domvallier. Rashad.’

Suarez’s jaw drops. ‘What? Liv, he’s hot!’

‘Shh, come on. I said don’t run your big mouth. Nothing happened, he showed up in my room with vodka and pastries, he wanted to cheer me up. He didn’t expect anything from me, he just...wanted to be there. It was nice.’ She steals a glass and drinks from it. ‘We watched Killing Eve.’

Suarez raises her eyebrows several times and shimmies her shoulders. ‘Oooooh, Killing Eve! Did all the murders make you horny?’

Liv rolls her eyes. ‘Shut up.’

*****

Taglist:

@andy-loves-corgis @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @alesana45 @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakxwalker @drakewalkerrosenberg @bryclahela @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[thequeerwitch]

First fanfic: Charlotte Russo: The Lost Angel of Empire Bay (Vito Scaletta x OC)  Introduction

Hey everyone, thanks so much for the support I’ve received with my transition to this blog. It’s time that I post my first fanfic to this blog. This story will follow a character from a fandom that’s not very well known, but deserves to be recognized, nonetheless. Vito Scaletta from Mafia 2 & 3. I played Mafia 3 first and absolutely fell in love with Vito, so I decided to play Mafia 2 as well. I can’t tell you which one I like better, I love them both equally. I highly recommend everyone who loves open world GTA-type games to play this game. It’s funny, action packed, emotional at times, and filled with plenty of colorful characters. Players be warned, however, that the game is rated M and deals with mature themes such as drug use, sex, cursing, violence, basically anything you’d expect from a GTA/Godfather mashup. Keep in mind that the fanfic will also be of a similar rating, though I will provide a trigger warning at the beginning of each chapter, as well as a word count and a general rating of each story. Alright, enough chit-chat. I’d like to introduce you to the OC of the evening: Charlotte Russo.

Charlotte Russo: Mafia 2

Charlotte Russo: The Blissful Angel 

Charlotte Russo: Mafia 3

Basic Stats:

Name: Charlotte Russo, “Big Tits” Charlie Alfonsi

Age: 19 (beginning), 42 (near the end)

Sex/Gender/Pronouns: Female, Woman, she/her

Race/Ethnicity: Italian

Fandom: Mafia

Background: Charlotte’s family emigrated from Sicily to Empire Bay in 1927 when her mother was pregnant with her.  Marco began working for Frank Vinci and built up a reasonable living. He planned to will his eldest daughter, Alessandra, the business, but she married and moved away as soon as she could. Charlotte became her father’s golden child, the one who would carry on the legacy and see the business out. When Charlotte was eighteen, her father was involved in a risky hit and was killed in the process. Don Frank Vinci severed ties with the family, but provided a certain amount of protection for them to survive off of until they got back on their feet. In the meantime, Charlotte scrambled to get a steady job and keep food on the table, electricity on in their tiny apartment, and a roof over their heads.

Appearance:

Figure/Eyes/Skin/Hair/Other: Charlotte has a thick, pair shaped figure with an average bust and full hips. She has tawny eyes, olive skin, and charcoal black hair with bangs across her forehead, full lips, a freckle on her cheek, and a scar cutting down the bridge of her nose.

Dress style: She typically dresses comfortably, but appropriate for her job. What that job is often varies from a dancer in a cathouse (lingerie) to running hits on the streets for her boss (jeans and a blouse).

Relationships:

Parents: Marco and Gianna Russo. Charlotte was always a daddy’s girl. She picked up much from her father including her strength, fighting skills, and her taste for fancy cigars. The death of her father tore Charlotte up, it was hard for her to think of much else for a while afterwards, but she was forced to keep moving to keep money coming in. Her mother isn’t exactly the same story. Charlotte picked up cooking and cleaning skills, many things that would make a good housewife, but she was never drawn to that path. She preferred the life of crime and action, like her father. Gianna didn’t take her husband’s death well. She started drinking to wash away the pain, but she wasn’t a happy drunk. When she was drunk, everything came out. Secrets, insults, truths that no one wants to hear, and a side of Gianni that she would be ashamed of sober. Charlotte’s relationship with Gianni was never great, they always fought over Charlotte’s future and wellbeing, which would drive a wedge between the two in their final years of communication.

Siblings: Alessandra Russo-Lombardi was ten years old when Charlotte was born. At the ripe, young age of 21, Alessandra married her high school sweetheart and moved far away from Empire Bay. She still maintains a good relationship with Charlotte, calling every couple of months to check in, but is mostly estranged from the rest of her family.

Love interest(s): Vito Scaletta, the mysterious man who saved her life and took her under his wing to show the ways of casual crime.

Friends: Margaret Young, a close friend and neighbor since Charlotte could remember. Their mothers were both stay at home moms, and her father owned a small bakery below Charlotte’s apartment. The two worked together between cathouses and department stores, and their bond often felt more like sisters than friends. Joe Barbaro was a friend of Vito who helped introduce Charlotte into the crime world. Matteo Ricci was a young man who Charlotte saves at some point in the story, and for her charity, Matteo sets out to repay her by giving back to the world in some way. Ronnie Espinoza, the only friend Charlotte has to depend on when she is at her lowest. More on him in the fic.

Enemies: Sidney “The Fat Man” Penn was an ex-boss of Charlotte, Lorenzo Alfonsi was Charlotte’s ex-husband from a loveless marriage, and Sal Marcano attempted to work with Charlotte under impossible terms and set out to have her killed when she didn’t agree to them. More on all of them in the story.

Sexuality and Romance:

Sexuality: Pansexual

Attraction: Charlotte was a butt person. She loved a nice, plump ass on men and women that she could pinch or smack during intercourse.

Experience: Charlotte experimented a little before finding Vito. She had a steady boyfriend for about a year before she found out he cheated on her, and a girlfriend who moved away and never contacted her again.

Skills and Work Life:

Skills: Charlotte learned how to take care of a house and a child from her mother, skills she retained her whole life. She learned how to defend herself and handle a knife from her father, and she learned how to drive and shoot a gun from Vito. Charlotte always had a knack for performance. She loved to sing, dance, and act both in public and private.

Hobbies: In her downtime, Charlotte loved to read, and secretly enjoyed to sew. She always wanted to be a seamstress as a child, a dream she secretly retained through her adult life.

Education: Charlotte had a middle school education, but was forced to drop out when her family couldn’t afford it anymore. She knows how to speak English and Italian.

Job: Dancer in a cathouse, made woman under Alberto Clemente, seamstress.

Personal:

Theme Songs: Troublemaker by Olly Murs, Bottom of the River by Delta Rae

Personality: Charlotte was a family girl, always taking steps to protect her team over herself. She liked to develop a first name basis with everyone she worked with to show a form of mutual respect. She was a tough cookie, but she managed to keep her emotions in check pretty well. It took a lot to break her, but when you do, be prepared. Her anger was scary, and her sadness usually results

Likes: Cars, clothes, jewelry, classic literature, jazz music, dancing

Dislikes: Not getting her way, cucumbers, liars, cheaters,

Philosophy:

Colors: Blue, purple, red, black

Beliefs/Spirituality: She grew up Catholic and retains general Christian beliefs, but she’s not a very good Christian. 

Fears: Death, dogs, wasps, knives, betrayal

Goals: To get out of Empire Bay, to survive in the mafia world, to become rich enough and settle down with Vito, other goals revealed in the fic.

Other

The titles of the chapters are lyrics from songs I associate with major scenes throughout the chapter. I’ll release the soundtrack after I finish the story as there will be some major spoilers within the soundtrack. 

Each chapter will be pretty long, around 6000 words each. 

I used this avatar creator to design them Charlotte’s avatars: http://www.azaleasdolls.com/dressupgames/1940s-fashion.php 

As Charlotte was present for many events from Mafia 2, the story is written as a documentary, titled “Charlotte Russo: The Lost Angel of Empire Bay.” I did this so I wouldn’t have to recap events from the game that just had Charlotte shoehorned in. Thus the story is split into different narrative styles. The narrative of the story will follow a similar structure as Mafia 3, told through flashbacks and interviews like a documentary. The formatting for each POV will look different, so I'll provide a key here to explain it.

Documentary narration

"Interviews" —Person's Name

Time period

Charlotte’s narration

The investigator of the documentary is going to be Jonathan Maguire from Mafia 3. I know he was only investigating the Lincoln Clay files, but I’m gonna level with you guys, I’m too lazy to make my own. :P 

Charlotte's narration

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 20

"When my love comes down, I don't have to run around

I've got you and you know just what to do

to fulfill all my needs and satisfy me

But I'd like to know if the sexual healing is mutual,

do you feel what I'm feeling?

Do I please you? Do I fill the need? I know I might sound bold,

but I'd just like to know

Is it good to you? I want to know

Is it good to you? Oooh, I got to know, yeah

Is it good to you? C'mon and tell me, boy, yeah

Is it good to you?"

Tammy Lucas – "Is it Good to You?"

Damn near shit-faced.

That's how N'Jobu felt sitting around the V.I.P. table with his friends. Drinks flowed, the music was out of control, and it felt so good to curse with Birnin Zana slang without having to check himself. He had known these guys since he was six years old. They were loyal, discreet, and fucking funny as hell.

Once N'Jobu caught up with the current happenings in and around Birnin Zana, and who was screwing who on the down low and in public, the conversation took a turn when he discovered that it was Jax going through the pregnancy scandal with the newly divorced socialite and River Tribe noblewoman.

Tossing back more plum liquor shots, N'Jobu heard the sordid tale straight from the jackass's mouth.

"Like, damn, Jax. Why the hell didn't you use protection? Ngqundu wako!" N'Jobu scolded.

"I'm an ass? Masende kayihlo!" Jax cursed back grabbing at his balls to insult N'Jobu.

"Eh, my father's balls? Nyo kanyoko!" N'Jobu shot back using his fingers to tap his tongue as a counter insult towards Jax's mother's private parts.

The other guys laughed and balled their fists up to their mouths at the bickering of two best friends.

"She said she had it covered. What can I say? I was doing it and thinking she would handle all of that. She's a noble. Those women should know better. Plus, she just got divorced. Ikaka, it might be her ex-husband's," Jax said.

"She keeping it?" N'Jobu asked.

"She can't."

"What if she does? What are you going to do?"

Jax sipped on a bottle of beer.

"She's not having it. I'll make sure she doesn't."

"She can get a DNA test you know," N'Jobu said.

"Not my problem. Plus, I hear her ex wants her back."

"Man, still…wouldn't you want to know if the child is yours? I mean if she keeps it, and it's yours, won't your families want legitimacy?"

"Ohhh, noooo, don't try to put that marriage yoke around my neck. You're the guy that has to get tied down for King and country! Filial obedience!" Jax hollered, slapping N'Jobu on his back.

N'Jobu only stared at Jax in disbelief.

"How many of your choices came to that dinner tonight?" Jax asked.

"We are talking about you, not me."

"Let's stop talking about him. I don't think she's pregnant anyway. I saw pictures of her drinking here last week for a birthday party. Pregnant women don't drink," said Odwa, His twin brother Paki was nodding his head.

"I saw those pictures too. She's playing you Jax," Paki said.

A popular song blasted the conversation and Jax jumped up shaking his hips, his thin twisted locs bouncing around his head.

"This is our cue, gentlemen. Our Prince has returned from fucking American women…don't roll your eyes at me N'Jobu, we know you! Odwa, look at his face, he's sitting here trying to act like he's been a good schoolboy in America."

"I know your comm tab has been blowing up since you got home. Who has been calling you to split them open before you go back, eh?" Paki said.

"Let's go dance, this is the song!" Their friend Chisulo said, dropping his body low and twisting his feet to the massive bass rumbling throughout the club.

Sekani, N'Jobu's third cousin on his mother's side took a long drag from a bottle of peach vodka. He wiped his mouth after drinking and stared at N'Jobu, his bald head shiny under the club lights. "Cousin, let's go," he said.

N'Jobu stood up and followed them as they walked past several elite sections. As N'Jobu sauntered through, he felt eager eyes on him and saw people giving head nods out of respect for his presence. Before they reached the stairs, he had to stop and use the restroom.

"I'll meet you guys down there," he said.

His Dora Milaje were discreet, but still watching his movements closely.

After relieving himself in the restroom, N'Jobu circled around towards the stairs.

"Prince N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu's head snapped to his right and he saw Zinzi and a group of women sitting in their own section. He recognized several of the women, their parents had eaten with him at the palace earlier.

Zinzi wore white skin-tight pants and a white leather corset top that showed off her ample bosom. N'Jobu didn't feel any shame when he let his eyes dip low to check out her breasts. She wasn't shy about showing them off. Oba Oba's was the place to see and be seen. She caught his reckless eye-balling and smiled.

"Zinzi," he said, stepping to her. He reached for her hand and kissed it. The women with her watched him with fierce sparkling eyes.

"Hello Ladies, you all look amazing," he said, acknowledging them. The one sitting closest to him, a pretty woman with dimples and a baby afro who he didn't recognize, kept biting her lip as she gazed at him.

"How come you didn't come over to my section?" he asked, placing his hand over his heart and pretending to look offended.

"You looked like you were in deep conversation with your friends. I didn't want to disturb your reunion."

"You disturb me? Never! Come, dance with me," he said, clasping her hand in his. He felt her fingers squeeze his a little. Her friends looked gobsmacked by how familiar he was acting with Zinzi, his informal Wakandan inflections scandalous to their ears. She did ask him to be seen with her so that the gossip could get back to her lover.

"Sure, your Highness," she said.

"Ladies, excuse us please," he said.

He led Zinzi down the stairs and through a boisterous crowd of dancers. They both could feel more covetous eyes on them. Zinzi's fingers felt warm and smooth interlaced with his, quite comfortable in fact.

He could see his boys throwing down already with women who were serving them hips and dips. The music was funky and not for the rhythmically challenged.

N'Jobu wasted no time grabbing Zinzi's waist. She was already tossing her ass back at him in that slow teasing way that women from this part of town were famous for doing. One leg up and bent, then the other lifted, bent at the knee, tiny steps alternating left to right, hip twisting, ass cheeks jiggled in precise isolations. River tribe women were known for those type of moves, but a dance craze that caught on a year ago filtered over into Birnin Zana from that region. Now everyone was doing it.

N'Jobu had to create an artificial barrier between him and Zinzi. Yes, he was connected to a woman in the States, and yes, he was committed to being faithful to her, but he was also a man who had a body that reacted to fine women. And Zinzi was fine as Ethiopian honey wine. When her ass got too close to his groin, he made sure not to press into her.

She turned around and raised her hands in the air, and that was a problem because now he could not stop looking at her chest and the way her breasts bounced to the music. He quickly forced himself to keep dancing but focused his eyes elsewhere as if he were taking in all the sights and sounds of the club.

A popular song called "Zana Highlife" came on, and N'Jobu really cut loose with Zinzi. She was fun to dance with and actually kept up with him.

"You're good, Prince N'Jobu!" she said, moving around him.

He smiled at her as he worked his shoulders in time with his hips.

"Okay your Highness, I see you!" she called out, trying to match his moves.

They partied to five songs and then N'Jobu took her hand and walked her over to a bar and ordered drinks for them. All the drinks were on the house for him. He asked for two house wines, and when they arrived, he took them and had Zinzi follow him to an open table in a booth. The other tables near them were empty because people were on the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yejide and Ometeko positioning themselves near him. No one would bother them at the table or in this section.

Sipping their white wine, N'Jobu kept eyeing Zinzi. She might actually be the one for his family's legacy. They got along so far as adults. He had known her when they were kids, but that was a long time ago. She was a woman now. An amazing one.

They did a little small talk about her current work organizing counseling for mental health and advocating for geriatric outreach. They spoke of his education and the excitement of the new royal baby. He showed her pictures of his friends in California on his comm tab. Always group shot photos, and usually he was in the back of the pictures trying to be obscure. He made sure not to show her any photos that he had of Califia and him together. Those were his private stash, mostly selfies of them kissing.

Califia seemed to adore photos of them tonguing each other down. Kissing between them was almost as good as intercourse. It had turned into a necessary extended act of foreplay that he enjoyed very much, especially when paired with his licking her all over from her front to her back. They once had an intense kissing session on her grandmother's couch when everyone had gone to bed. Califia had worked him up so bad that when they stopped twisting their lips and tongues together after forty minutes, he had soaked a section of his pants with pre-cum and he thought he had ejaculated because the stain was so big.

"Any girlfriends out there in America?" Zinzi asked.

"No," he said sipping on his wine, hoping his face didn't betray him.

"But you are seeing women, right?"

"Yeah. I date. But school is pretty intense."

"I hear you're a top student."

"Always. That's an Udaku trait."

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"You and Captain Gcuma…?"

He was curious.

"You were great tonight. Thank you."

"So, what's the deal with that? Why don't you two just get married? I can tell he is into you. He looked shocked when he saw me stepping up."

"My parents. He's older. Divorced. No children. They think being divorced is a sign of bad character and because he never had children with his wife, he must be infertile."

"Who was he married to?"

"Wananeya Duzi."

"The Duzi family? Whoa. How'd he screw that up?"

Zinzi punched his leg.

"Be nice. He fell in love with me."

"You were messing around with a married man?"

"They were separated for three years before he and I…"

"I understand," N'Jobu said.

"I was finishing up my military stint. He was my commanding officer. He just…we just…"

"Easy, Zinzi. You don't have to explain. The picture is clear."

"To be fair, he is descended from the Oni family. His mother is an Oni. He has noble blood."

"But the whole divorce, and maybe him being a lot older is an issue, eh?"

"Yes. But I don't care. My family wants to be in the palace. You know this. But I'm in love. I just want to get married and make that man some babies."

"Does he want to marry you?"

"I know he does. But he's scared to ask. Scared of losing his rank if my family goes after him because they disapprove. That's why I asked you to be seen with me openly. I want him to see that he could lose me. I want him to get a taste of seeing me with someone else."

"And that's supposed to do what? Make him propose?"

"Yes!"

"Well, if I were him, I would say screw the military and elope with you."

Zinzi's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Of course. Look at you. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. You remind me a lot of my…."

He caught himself.

"I remind you of what?"

He sipped from his wine glass. Her eyes got big.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you? In the States."

"Keep this to yourself."

Zinzi studied his face.

"What?" he said.

"I knew something was up with you."

N'Jobu quirked his lips like she was talking nonsense.

"No, really. I noticed something about you when you were at the dinner. You seemed preoccupied but in a good way. And the way you are in this club right now, with all these beautiful women? I know for sure that when I throw this ass back on a man, they try to catch it. Are you in love, Prince N'Jobu?"

He sat back in the booth seat and sighed.

"Yes. I am."

Zinzi smiled.

"Can I see a picture of her?"

"You must keep this to yourself," he said.

"I've told you my deepest darkest secret that I don't want anyone to know about. You can trust me. I'm not looking for trouble."

N'Jobu pulled up one of his favorite photos of him and Califia together. She is straddling his lap and looking up at his cell phone while he is kissing her cheek. His eyes are closed and his arms are around her and squeezing her tight. Her hair is a big thick ball of fury and her freckles are so vivid on her face. But it's her smile that melts him. Those luscious lips. Her teeth. That cheeky twinkle in her eye. The love of his life at this moment.

"My Bast, Prince N'Jobu. She is striking. No wonder…no wonder."

Zinzi is quiet and they both watch the crowd dance. N'Jobu can see his buddies still cutting up, the life of the party on the dance floor.

"Do your parents know about her?" Zinzi finally asks.

"No one. It's a new relationship. I've dated a lot over there. But this…this is something…I don't even know how to act sometimes. I mean, that girl…that girl has got me. What's crazy is, I wasn't even looking for this. I was happy just screwing around…and then, I don't know… something changed. I've never felt like this before, Zinzi. And it bothers me. It weighs on me. Because I can't keep her. I have fallen in love with someone for the first time in my life, and it's with a foreigner. I can never bring her here, and I can never stay there. I'm fucked."

He hadn't meant to lay all of that at Zinzi's feet. But it felt good talking to Zinzi. She made him feel open and trusting. She reached out her hand and cradled his fingers in hers.

"Your secret is safe with me. Although our situations are different, I do understand what you are going through."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a half smile.

"What time is it over there now? You should call her."

"It's around five."

"Call her," Zinzi said getting up, "I'm going to rejoin my friends for a bit."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Zinzi?"

"Before you leave, make sure we talk again. There's something I want to hip you to. A rumor you should be aware of."

"Okay. Is it about me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll come find you."

She nodded and eased back into the crowd.

Tapping his comm tab and placing his earbuds on, N'Jobu hit Califia's cell number.

"Filter background," N'Jobu whispered, and the earbuds worked on blocking out much of the loud music and background voices. It was pretty loud, but he hoped the noise reduction filter would do enough so he wouldn't have to move.

He almost gave up on the ninth ring when he heard her pick.

"N'Jobu!" she exclaimed, and the excitement in her voice made him close his eyes.

"Califia," he said, his voice a gentle whisper.

"How is everything? Is your family thrilled to have you back? What's the weather like—"

"Califia, I love you too."

The music in the background was still a little loud and he thought she didn't hear him.

"Baby?" he said looking down at his fingers. They were trembling.

"I wanted to tell you before you left. But I chickened out. I was going to wait until you came back home to me and tell you in person. But…it just came out like that, and maybe, I dunno, maybe I was scared to say it in person—" she said.

"Say it to me now," he said.

"I love you, N'Jobu. I love the hell out of you."

He released a loud exhalation of breath. He let his eyes drift across the dancers and the bright lights and the wonderful chaos that was his favorite club. His friends were at the bar lifting their drinks to him, their smiles wide and grateful that he was here with them once more. But at this moment, his heart and mind were far away.

"I think I have loved you since the first time I saw you, Califia. When you touched my hand that first time…when you were checking out my bracelet…you looked up at me and …and there was something in your eyes that just caught me. Baby, this is so new to me. But I will do my best to make you happy. Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice trembling over the call.

"I'm going to be thinking of you every day here."

"Same."

"I'm hanging out with my friends right now. We're at a club, and it looks like we're about to hit the dance floor again. Or drink some more I'm guessing. They are holding up shot glasses for me."

"Get off this phone and go have fun!"

Her laughter thrilled him. He would survive this trip. He didn't miss the fact that she had said coming back home to her. She was home. She was where he wanted to be.

"My schedule is going to be a bitch, so I may not be able to get at you until a few days from now."

"Maybe we can face chat next time?"

"I'll try to make that happen. A lot of political stuff is happening and my family is involved, so my time is really messed up. I'm glad to be back. Everyone is well."

"Good," she said.

"Talk soon?"

"Yeah."

He heard her give him a big wet kiss over the phone and then the call was done.

A stirring of confidence filled up his chest and he strolled over to his boys with a serious dip in his step.

###

After spending time at the bar drinking, N'Jobu let his friends return to the dance floor as he bounded up the steps of V.I.P.

He found Zinzi talking with her friends in her private section and he spirited her away to his V.I.P. section where they could be alone together.

"Spill it," he said, fingering a glass of water.

Zinzi tossed her braids over her shoulder.

"There has been talk about you and Princess Bathandwa. The entire country knows your family wants an heir. Everyone also knows that your brother and sister-in-law have been trying for awhile to have a baby."

"So? What does that have to do with me?"

Zinzi's eyes went downcast. She fidgeted with an ornate ruby ring on her index finger.

"There's a story going around that when Princess Bathandwa went to visit New York last June with the Women's Delegation, you flew there to see her because a month after she returned, it was announced she was a few weeks pregnant."

N'Jobu thought back to June. Bathandwa was part of a global women's movement to help neonatal health in so-called Third World countries. They were having a big conference near the U.N. and Bathandwa was giving a speech on African women's progress in East Africa. It was part of Wakanda's political maneuverings in the outside world, feigning the appearance of being a struggling nation with health issues.

During that time, N'Jobu had been messing around with a dish water blonde who taught at Mills College, a professor who he met at a university mixer who talked so much shit to N'Jobu that made him think she was cool that he ended up rearranging her guts in her apartment until he realized later in the situationship that she had a fetish for Black men. Especially dark-skinned men like him who had prowess in bed.

He had screwed the professor and missed a flight to JFK airport where he was to meet Bathandwa and her delegation for a quick hi and bye over dinner. They never met up and she flew home right after her speech.

"We never saw each other," N'Jobu said.

Zinzi shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. She leaves Wakanda after years of trying and comes back announcing a baby on the way. People started talking. There's also your reputation too."

"What is my reputation, hmm?"

"Playboy. Heartbreaker. Party monster. Womb wrecker."

"Womb wrecker? Damn."

"Listen, the people love that about you. No offense, but Prince T'Chaka is like the uptight country Uncle, and you are like everyone's favorite city nephew. They're going to talk."

"How long has this rumor been going?"

"Honestly, at first, it was like a big joke, you know, the stuff people say to poke fun of nobles. But then it started gaining traction, and I am afraid it has reached the ears of the palace. I am quite sure your brother is aware of it."

N'Jobu drank his water and pondered her words.

"I noticed tonight that Princess Bathandwa is very affectionate with you."

"And?"

"You may want to be very careful of how you two interact, especially during this time of the coronation. I do not mean to be rude, but people are watching you closely, and not just because of the betrothal march. Some people really believe that her baby is yours."

"Great," he said sighing heavily.

"This will pass. The good thing is, you will return to the States, and once the baby is born, everyone will see that the royal couple finally received the child they have been praying for."

"Let us hope so," he said, "any other gossip I should know about?"

"Your friend Jax, he is not the father of the baby that Yasmin is having. Your other friend Odwa is."

"Oh, shit."

"I know. You did not hear it from me."

"Hey…I talked to my girlfriend."

"Good. How is she?"

N'Jobu beamed.

"She sounded great."

"You are so cute when you are in love. Just all teeth right now."

N'Jobu smiled wider, then stared at Zinzi with a more somber expression. He rubbed his chin.

"Can I ask you something else, and be honest with me?"

"Go ahead."

N'Jobu glanced around to make sure they were still afforded privacy.

"In your opinion, how are the people taking the change. Are they for or against my brother?"

Zinzi's eyes squinted a bit and she pressed her lips together.

"From what I gather, and this is coming from my parents and other nobles, the change is viewed as a good thing among people under forty. It's the older people who are not thrilled. They are accustomed to our Kings and Queens ruling until they drop dead. No offense, your Highness."

"None taken."

"People generally like Prince T'Chaka. He has a level head, but, some feel that his crowning should come later when he is more mature. How do you feel about it?"

"It seems fast to me. But I will trust my father's judgment."

"It lessens your time being a playboy I bet," she joked.

"Look whose showing teeth now," N'Jobu said.

"You know they weren't going to let you dangle out here for long."

"Lady Zinzi!"

Jax stepped back into the V.I.P. along with the rest of N'Jobu's crew. Zinzi stood and greeted all the guys.

"I'll see you later, Prince N'Jobu."

"I'll call you for lunch."

"Do that," she said, leaving their private space.

Jax and the others watched Zinzi's hips sway as she walked around to rejoin her party.

"Sekmet in heaven. Please tell me you are choosing her, N'Jobu," Odwa said.

"I have tried for years to get that woman to look at me. I think she's stuck up," Jax said, grabbing his crotch in a crude manner.

N'Jobu thought about asking his friends about the rumor, but if it were that serious, one of them would've pulled his coattails by now.

All he knew was that if what she said was true, and the rumor had reached T'Chaka, that may be part of his stress besides becoming King.

The guys were ordering more rounds of shots, and the music was getting hotter.

He'd worry about T'Chaka later.

###

N'Jobu rolled back into the palace way after six in the morning.

He sent his mother a message that he would not be joining the family for brunch, but would be sleeping in before attending the planned evening outing, the opening of a brand-new opera in the West Zana district. The royal family would be having dinner at a chic new restaurant so that the press and paparazzi could get pictures. One of his other top picks for the betrothal march would be joining them for dinner and attending the opera with the family.

Once inside his suite, N'Jobu showered, slathered his body in freshly made cocoa butter, and sat inside his sauna to let the rich body butter soak into his skin. His limbs felt sore and heavy from dancing long and late. He was proud that he wasn't hung over.

The heat softened his skin and he ran his hands up his thighs massaging his muscles. A viewscreen popped up on the glass of the sauna door, and N'Jobu stood up from the wooden bench of the sauna to check it. He forgot he had set a reminder alarm for himself to go jogging in the royal garden.

He reset the alarm for the next day, changed his mind, and set it for later in the afternoon. His wet fingers slid across the screen as he checked for messages. He opened an app for his computer and looked for his private Califia folder. The heat of the sauna woke up his skin. He ran his hand across his pecs, then double tapped the folder. He searched for a particular clip that he filmed with his kimoyo beads. He saw the thumbnail for the clip he wanted and tapped it.

Califia.

As big as life, projected into the sauna in full 3D.

She's on her knees facing him, naked on his bedroom floor. She has her hands on her breasts. He hears himself tell her to play with her tits, and she does, her eyes watching him. He feels bad for a second because it's the only clip he has of her face, and he wasn't trying to film it, he just got caught in the moment and he wasn't using his cell to tape, so the kimoyo beads captured everything.

N'Jobu stepped back from the projected image and just watched, his hands at his sides, the steam in the sauna causing Califia's image to look real. He watched her hands slide up her waist, circle around her stomach and then reach her chest. Her fingers toyed with her nipples first, and N'Jobu fought the urge to touch himself. He simply wanted to observe her.

She pushed her breasts together once her nipples hardened, and he felt his dick stir, blood rushed to help thicken it.

"Turn around, face down. Show me that ass," he said in the video.

Califia pivoted and crossed her arms on the carpet and laid her head on her hands, right on top of a pillow that was on the floor. Her ass sat up in front of him.

"Arch that back," his video voice commanded, and she used those dancer skills that trained her body to bend with complete control to pop that ass up higher. Her thighs parted and her ass cheeks separated enough so that her pussy was visible to him.

In the sauna, N'Jobu was weakened, his cock jutted out more as his eyelids drooped from the blessing that sat before him.

"Hhhhmm….baby," he slipped between his gritted teeth. The bulb of his cock was fully fleshed out. He reached his hand up above his head towards a shelf that housed a small black box. He reached inside the box just when Califia's right hand reached between her legs and rubbed tight counterclockwise circles on her clit.

"Oooooohmmm…" N'Jobu groaned as his dick bobbed. It felt so heavy.

"Let me see those hands," N'Jobu commanded on video, and Califia pressed her face on the pillow. Both her hands reached back and pulled open her cheeks. Her fingernails were painted a satiny dark maroon, and they looked so pretty against her skin.

N'Jobu moaned again when he saw her opening give a small spasm and he saw her tasty pink pussy gap open wider. This woman is fucking art, he thought. There should be paintings of this fat juicy vulva throbbing open on museum walls. This is why men waged wars for centuries. Just to have the power to control this pulsing, throbbing, dripping wet and divine thing. Looking at Califia, even in a digitized state, he knew what a living Goddess looked like.

"Babb..byy…" he stuttered, slipping his fingers out of the black box and pulling out the item he needed. A red cock ring.

He slipped the red band over his dick and rolled it all the way around his balls. His sack was very sensitive when he touched it, and when he released his balls, they felt massive hanging from him even with the new constriction placed on them.

"Jobu…Jobu…" Califia was panting out his name.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't you let go," he said out loud to himself in the sauna as he stroked his erection, the shaft slick from the cocoa butter and steam, his stomach muscles taut, and his pecs flexing from the strain.

"Please….please…Jobu…fuck me…" she begged, spreading her cheeks wider.

"Shit…"

N'Jobu reached back into the box and pulled out a silver glans ring and twisted it around the girth of his frenulum. When he released it, he felt his glans swell more. He stopped touching his erection and just watched Califia begging for his dick. It was torture, an excruciating test of self-control. The more she begged for his cock, the more his dick jumped. He used his own muscles to make his dick move, the sweet pain of the cock rings constricting him building up his intense pleasure.

He watched himself slap Califia's sensitive clit with his hand, sharp strikes that made her yelp as he watched her own body's natural lubricant ooze out of her glistening center.

"Dammit," he muttered, watching her squirm and not touching himself.

He watched himself move into the scene and grab her waist, slowly sinking his cock into her pussy. N'Jobu found himself being even more turned on watching his own dick placate his woman who had been begging and pleading for that moment of entry. Now he was listening to her cry out in pleasure as he forced her to keep that back arched by pressing one hand down on her lower back.

"Jobu…huhhnn…s'deep…hmmmmnn…you in so deep…s'deep…fuck…DADDY…you in there…you in there…"

She was wailing and squirming harder, but he kept his dick deep inside her with a repetitive short slow thrust. The movement made his balls just smash softly against her clit.

N'Jobu began to stroke his erection, because now what he was waiting for was coming up soon. He watched himself jump from doggy to froggy style as he kept that agonizing deep thrust. Califia was lying back on her hands again, trying her best not to collapse from overstimulation and no release. His balls would press into her clit and she would wiggle to try and get the friction to offset her orgasm, but the swivel in N'Jobu's hips prevented that. He was torturing her on purpose.

And he was torturing his real self too as he watched. He gripped his cock tight. A thick stream of pre-cum spilled out in a long clear drizzle down to the sauna floor. His climax was in sight. He watched himself plunge down deeper into Califia and hold still.

"Cum on this dick!" his video self barked at her.

Califia's ass jiggled and then he watched her entire vulva spasm and pulse around his cock.

N'Jobu's eyes shut tight as he shot hot ropes of cum onto the glass door of the sauna. His voice bellowed and grunted freely in the soundproof space as he coated the door with so much cum, it looked like someone had thrown a glass of milk on it.

When his eyes opened, he caught the last part of the video where he pulled out of Califia with his jizz spilling behind him from the release.

He leaned against the glass and gulped in as much air as he could, but he had to exit the sauna because it wasn't enough to revive his breath with the heated air going into his desperate lungs.

He pulled off the cock rings and dropped them on the sink in the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw his blown pupils gazing back at him.

"Shit!" he yelled out, trying to gain his composure as he gripped the edges of the marble sink.

He staggered into his room and flopped onto his bed, still winded.

He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 21 HERE

Read “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” from the beginning here.

[mihanada]

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

(back to masterpost)

There is a lot going on in this chapter that is both immensely satisfying and extremely creepy.

And this arc is so tiny! Only two parts, I believe.

Chapter 61: Evil (Part 1)

Alright, this is not quite as gross as the Xuanwu chapter for me, but just in case anyone forgot, this novel is not for the faint of heart. The levity distracts from the heaviness of the rest of the content for you to also forget about the gross bits until they come up again and hit you in the face. This novel strikes a nice balance between all of these elements, which is nice.

“It’s been three months since I threw him into Burial Mound. Why are you still having dreams of him? Just how many times has it been?!”

IT SERVES YOU RIGHT!!!

Up until the icky stuff happens, that ^ is what I was whispering fiercely the entire time.

“How could it be possible? Before this, how many cultivators have our sect sent to clean Burial Mound up? Did any one of them come back alive? Now that he’s been thrown inside, his corpse has probably rotted away already.”

Whose bright idea was it to create a great big mound of CORPSES. It got so bad that everyone you sent to clean it up dropped dead. Seriously, you would think cultivators would not let something like this get that bad. Obviously they had wanted to do something about it a while back, so why didn’t someone clean it up before it became a literal hellhole...

“The people who died in Burial Mound, all of their souls would be shackled there.”

Apparently this is a thing, too.

“What Sunshot Campaign? Some Sunshot it is. Want to shoot down the sun? Dream on!”

YOUNGEST SHIDI YOUR LEGACY IS HERE.

“Wang LingJiao felt wronged, but she felt hatred as well. She put down the teacup. Fixing her hair and her robes, she walked outside with a smile.

Just as she went out the door, the smile on her face faltered.”

I’ll take this opportunity to say that I appreciate the small attempt to humanize Wang Lingjiao here. I appreciate the disintegration of hers and Wen Chao’s relationship even more, but. xD

She was one of those typical bitchy villains, but hey, at least she wasn’t totally dumb and naive enough to believe without a doubt that Wen Chao would continue adoring her. She hoped, but when it was clear that he had enough of her, she also decided it was best to derp off.

ooh the pieces are finally falling into place! Wen Xu being beheaded was mentioned during Nie Mingjue’s flashbacks.

“When they emerged under the banner of the ‘Sunshot Campaign’, nobody took them seriously.”

I wish we could’ve seen this thing form instead of after the three month time skip, but oh well.

“However, three months later, the circumstances didn’t turn out the way they expected them to at all!”

and they managed to turn the tables without demonic cultivation meddling! though that probably helped immensely, later in this chapter.

“There was none of her beloved treasures, only a pale-skinned, curled-up child!”

I’m actually wondering what the hell this was. Was she hallucinating? But it ends up in the room later...

What matter of demonic cultivation is this?? xD

it’s delightfully creepy though a bit cliche. want horror? go straight for the creepy babies.

“A white-colored child lay prone under her bed, staring into her eyes.”

what is happening, seriously

“Wen Chao shouted. He unsheathed his new sword and sliced at her, “Go away! Get lost!”

“new sword”

I appreciate that the author remembered he lost his back in the cave. xD

“Wang LingJiao’s shoulder had been gashed by the sword. Her features were even more twisted as she shrieked, “Ahhhhhh… It hurts, ahhhh… It hurts, ahhhh!!!”

the, uh, creepy and disturbing part is that she’s not actually dead, yet acting almost like a corpse being controlled (we know this isn’t going to happen yet though, since mr. Ghost General was the first).

“On the ground, Wang LingJiao had already picked up one leg of the stool, frantically stuffing it into her mouth, laughing as she did, “Fine, fine, I’ll eat it, I’ll eat it! Haha, I’ll eat it!”

I’m wondering what and how she is compelled to do this by...? It’s definitely something to do with demonic cultivation, and it’s a no-brainer who is responsible.

However, getting her to literally eat a chair leg is pretty impressive. 

“Wen Chao was almost dead from the shock.”

hahaha I was also all ??? at this point. what is going on, how-

“Each carrying their cultivators, they flew on their swords in silence.”

notice that? notice it?

a certain someone who lost their golden core can suddenly fly again...

we should all wander a nameless mountain blindfolded for 7+ days

“Two months ago, the Two Jades of Lan cooperated in a surprise attack with Jiang Cheng.”

That’s pretty impressive with just three of them.

“Jiang Cheng looked at him, as if surprised that he had suddenly asked about Wei Ying. He answered, “No.”

hahaha we all know why he asked about Wei Ying...

To Jiang Cheng though, it probably is a little random.

awww Jiang Cheng is toting his sword around though...

imagine if things didn’t work out and he never got to give it back hahahaha. well, Jiang Cheng, things have pretty much been shit for you, but at least that worked out.

Like, I guess these are objectively gross. xD not enough to squick me, but yeah, pretty nasty.

However, having recently read a novel that truly had a gratuitous amount of violent, bloody, and disgusting deaths, GDC has a good balance. It’s not exactly for the shock factor, nor gratuitous. Gross, yes, but not to a pointless degree.

I’m wondering how they all died in a different manner though. We’ve never gotten to see demonic cultivation used in this way yet.

I like the bit of mystery behind it.

“She had killed herself by forcing herself to swallow the stool leg into her stomach.”

So yeah, it has to do with controlling people. They’re not dead yet when they controlled though.

“Jiang Cheng turned the corpse’s twisted face over. After he had scrutinized it for a while, he gave out a cold laugh. Holding the stool leg, he shoved it into her mouth, somehow managing to stuff the half that had been outside into her body as well.”

We’ve reached the point that Lan Wangji didn’t comment on this. Yeah, he was inspecting the talismans, but you can’t say he didn’t notice Jiang Cheng shoving a stool leg down a corpse’s throat.

this, was kind of a yuck moment.

But can you blame Jiang Cheng after the shit these people put him through. and she’s dead anyways.

“These brushstrokes were the ones that entirely changed the pattern of the talisman. Now, looking at it, the talisman stuck to the door seemed to be the face of a person, smiling eerily.”

someone has been busy~

“Jiang Cheng was shocked, “Talismans… could attract evil? I haven’t heard of anything like it.”

yes you have, once, in speculation, two years ago!

“Jiang Cheng, “Then who could this person possibly be? Amongst all of the renowned cultivators, I haven’t heard of any who can do such a thing.

Immediately after, he continued, “But no matter who they are, it’s fine as long as their objective is the same as ours—to kill all of the Wen-dogs!”

oh, jiang cheng.

“Jiang Cheng snorted, “Dark? In this world, could there be anything darker than the Wen-dogs?!”

Oh, you say that now, Jiang Cheng...

It is quiet funny and such a part of human nature for this to occur though. “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” and once the Wen sect is no longer around as a common enemy...

“This person had to be Wen Chao. But how did Wen Chao’s voice become like this? So thin and so sharp, it didn’t seem to be Wen Chao at all?”

I mean, this is terrible and all, what happened to him but you can’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction as well. that’s what you get for terrorizing everyone and murdering basically an entire clan!

I’m amazed Jiang Cheng managed to find people to recruit at all in those three months, actually.

“Wen ZhuLiu appeared to be indifferent, “Perhaps.”

those are some words of encouragement, Wen Zhuliu.

never go to Wen Zhuliu for comfort, ever.

“Wen ZhuLiu, “You need ointment. Or else you’ll be dead for certain.”

Practical, though. And oddly loyal. What is with this guy? Though, at this point, even if he abandoned Wen Chao, his life would still be on the line. All he would have is some more time to run.

“Wen ZhuLiu peeled off the bandages layer by layer, revealing the skin of the bald man. On the face, scars and burn marks scattered without order, making him look as if he’d been cooked. Ugly, hideous, they couldn’t see at all the shadow of whom he used to be!”

What in the world happened???

We better find out what demonic art thing is responsible eventually. xD

“Don’t cry. Or else the tears would make the wounds fester and worsen the pain.”

Well that sucks. They are burn wounds, though.

“Suddenly, Wen Chao shrieked, “The flute! The flute! Is it the flute?! I heard him play the flute again!”

Wen ZhuLiu, “No! It was the wind.”

I guess his flute can do more than control corpses.

“Seeing this, Jiang Cheng remembered what a plight he and Wei WuXian were in the day when they fled. The didn’t even have any food. Such a situation was karma indeed!

Heart filled with joy, the corners of his curled lifted and he broke into mad but soundless laughter.”

can you see the current Jiang Cheng in him now.

after what happened to his sect, it was just a downward spiral from there....even though he’s got his cultivation back, the experience and trauma altered his personality forever.

Everyone is unhinged in this chapter omg. Lan Wangji and Wen Zhuliu are the only sane ones.

“He threw the bun away and screamed, “I’m not eating meat! I’m not! I’m not! I’m not eating meat!”

Geez, what happened to you??

“No no no, Wen ZhuLiu, Brother Wen! Don’t go, don’t leave me behind. If you can take me back to my dad, I’ll let him promote you to the highest level guest cultivator! No no no, you saved me, so you’re my brother—I’ll let him recognize you into the main clan! From now on you’ll be my elder brother!”

what an asshole. this is the only guy who is willing to stay by your side and strong enough to do so, he could have just ditched you and taken his chances running but instead he is lugging your sorry ass around for some reason.

Come to think of it, Wen Zhuliu has a pretty abhorrent ability that is NOT classified as demonic cultivation. But perhaps that’s the reason he ended up with the Wen Sect. Who else would want to be associated with such a horrible ability? Only those with the power to suppress all opposition and no care for morals.

“Wen ZhuLiu stared in the direction of the stairs, “There’s no need.”

Once again, never go to this guy for pep talks.

“The pair of palms, on the other hand, was bare, without a single finger on it!”

It’s amazing he’s still kicking (...well...) actually.

“The person slowly walked upstairs. He was covered in black. With a slender physique, he had a flute at his waist, hands behind his back.

However, when the person strolled up the stairs and turned around, smile on his face, Lan WangJi’s eyes opened wide, having seen those bright features before.”

GUESS WHO.

(quotes from ExR’s translations)

← back・onward →

[hellyeahheroes]

Cleansing the Crimes of Old Krypton: Comparisons Between Superman #1-6 and Supergirl #1-6

Ever since the rise of the comic-book anti-heroes, Superman and his family were positioned by writers in the opposition to them. This is a natural progression for those who understand the character’s roots as the hero of the little folk. Such qualities are resonating with the liberal and socialist ideals. Meanwhile, antiheroes often voice ideas that would be very terrifying if said by real-life politicians. The efficiency being presented as more important than human rights or collateral damage. The idea that the justice system only stops the protagonist from doing what’s necessary. An approach where stopping the bad guys is more important than protecting the innocent. These ideas can easily be applied to politics. And as a result, lead to authoritarian or outright fascist thinking. Don’t get me wrong. Some people claim if Batman won’t kill the Joker, he has the blood of Joker’s future victims on his hands. I’m not saying they’re cheering Donald Trump saying federal judges who overruled his ban on Muslim Immigrants are to blame if a terrorist attack happens. But we need to recognize the parallels.

Many successful antihero stories were built on exploring the consequences of this approach. You can find those themes everywhere from The Authority and V for Vendetta to Code Geass. Sadly, lately, we have a continuous increase of those problems being glossed over. And not only for actual antiheroes but even more upstanding characters. Especially in movies. Once paragons of virtue on big screen become terrifying. And yet we're supposed to cheer when they commit atrocities. Violating borders of a foreign country, intruding on people’s privacy, destroying an entire city in battle, murdering people. It all becomes not only justified but even glorified. They say it’s okay for “good guys” to do those things. Because otherwise, we’re all going to die. Because they’ll stop once the danger is gone, pinky swear. Because only the bad guys get hurt and killed. So relax and handle all the power and no accountability to those guys, they need it to protect you.

Superman stories often tackled this issue. Sometimes results is a compelling, meaningful voice in the discussion. Other times we get an awful, hypocritical story. That is given praise regardless because it sticks it up to the other side. “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice And American Way” and it’s adaptation “Superman vs the Elite” are a prime example. There Superman proves wrong the Authority knockoffs who claim that might makes right. By beating the living shit out of them, thus proving that might do indeed makes right…. if you’re Superman. Thankfully, two stories I want to talk about do not have this problem.

For inspirations, both stories reach back. To a tale of 4 individuals that tried to replace Superman after his supposed death - Reign of Supermen. Superman books under Rebirth banner, in general, try to recreate the feel of that era. Superman is dead and his replacements start showing up. Kenan Kong in the New Super-Man, Lana Lang in Superwoman, even Lex Luthor dons the cape. But DC managed to have their cake and eat it too. The main Superman book still has it's Man of Steel. It's Superman from another Universe, with wife and son. He is more in line with old DC Continuity, compared to Superman that died. Meanwhile, Supergirl reaches to feel more like beloved TV Series, even if Kara is still a teenager. To connect with Reign of Supermen both books use a different way. They reach for its “bad” Supermen - Eradicator and Cyborg Superman. They also revamp them to have them fit a specific purpose.

Or use earlier revamps, as is the case with Cyborg Superman. Before Flashpoint this name was held by Hank Henshaw, a scientist with a grudge. In New 52 he is the man who had sent Kara to Earth from Argo, last surviving city of Krypton. Her father, Zor-El. He failed to save the whole colony and is desperate to undo past failures. He turns dead corpses of his citizens and even wife into cyborgs like him. But to regain sentience the need to consume life force of intelligent beings. Then Zor-El hears Kara cry in her moment of doubt. She question she’ll even be able to fit on Earth and how strange and, well, alien, our customs are for her. Her father doesn’t hesitate. He decides to invade Earth, harvest humanity to resurrect Argo and take his daughter back.

Eradicator was absent from New 52 era of DC, to resurface in Rebirth, with a simplified origin. Before Flashpoint it was an alien A.I. obsessed over Krypton. In Rebirth Eradicators were created by General Zod. It was a mechanical police force used against both criminals and political rivals. This one came back to life through contact with the blood of Superman’s son, Jonathan. And then vowed to protect and restore Krypton’s legacy. Starting with the last heir of House of El, Superman himself. Clark is reluctant to trust the robot when it offers to examine Jon’s health and fluctuating powers. Turns out it was a good call. Eradicator decides that being half-human half-Kryptonian, Jon is impure. And that the best way to heal him is to eradicate human part of his DNA. Jon would become fully Kryptonian, but also cease to exist as a person he was up to this point.

Both those villains have a history of representing darker shades of Krypton. In old continuity, Eradicator was a go-to explanation for every Krypton-related bad thing. Villainous interpretation of Zor-El is nothing new either. Before Flashpoint his whole motivation was "He hates his brother, Jor-El". He didn't send Kara away to save her, but to make her kill Kal-El. He had brainwashed his own daughter to make her a weapon against her cousin.

If anything, this version of him comes off as, if not sympathetic, then at least pitiable. Flashbacks show us he was a caring, loving father, who sent Kara away to protect her. It makes it much more tragic to see how far he has fallen. Even Kara starts to feel bad for him over the course of the story. She recognizes in him a man haunted by his failures, whose actions are a desperate try to fix everything. But Supergirl still calls him out. She points out that he doesn't care about anything but himself anymore. If he did, he’d see how twisted his “solution” actually is and try to find a better one. The results were more important than how he achieved them. And things like mass murder became merely means to an end. It doesn't matter how many he has to kill. It doesn't matter he turned his wife and friends into mechanical monsters. Once he gets them back, everything will be back to normal, he tells himself. He expects his wife and daughter to go back to their old life and ignore all the blood on his hands. He is delusional. When his wife regains part of her mind, she sacrifices herself to save Kara's adoptive mother. She'd rather be dead than part of this. Does it get to him? No. because for Zor-El it doesn't matter how appalling his methods are. Only that he wins.

Both Zor-El and Eradicator are operating on racist and xenophobic assumptions. They see everyone who is not Kryptonian as inferior and disposable. The whole idea of a Kryptonian living with human family is appalling to them. Zor-El several times states he never meant for Kara to stay on Earth forever. He expects her to simply abandon her new home, now that it served its purpose. He also mentions in passing wars betweenKrypton and other races. It's implied they were as horrible as what he is doing now. Meanwhile, what is Eradicator? A Kryptonian version of police brutality and law-enforcement being used for political reasons. All these factors make the reader ask a question neither of the villains bothered with. Should you bring old Krypton back? If Kryptonians were warmongering xenophobes, then why should they return? Who is to say if they do, they won’t go down the same path again? Neither Eradicator nor Zor-El makes a strong case against this argument. Not when they’re willing to stomp into the ground anyone who stands in their way.

We live in times when people in power tell us we need to give up parts of our freedoms for our own protection. That we need to do whatever it takes, no matter how unethical, to protect our way of life from “the enemy”. Even if it means crushing rights of those different from us. This is no different from many anti-heroes in comics. How often do we see one accusing more restrained superheroes of not having what it takes to “get the job done”? Or claim not only are they too weak, but people they protect are dumb masses easy to sway and control? Those themes are still being explored by creators of both books. Peter Tomasi and Patrick Gleason do it through later Superman villain, the Prophecy. Lord Havok and the Extremists serve this role in Steve Orlando’s JLA. But it isn’t enough to have heroes beat this type of villains. What is even more important is how they beat them. As I mentioned above, in that kind of stories it’s easy to come off as a hypocrite, if you play your hand wrong.

Luckily, even on that ground, the stories are on point. Neither Superman nor Supergirl can defeat their enemies alone. It is the strength of family, friends, and allies that allow them to overcome this threat. As Kara says, she isn’t on Earth to inspire humans – they inspire each other. Threat Eradicator and Zor-El present cannot be defeated by an individual. It needs the united effort of everyone it threatens. Even average people like Cat Grant or Bibbo Bibbowski have their part to play. It’s love, family, and unity that save the day.

And in true classic fashion, they are both shown mercy. While Eradicator’s physical form is destroyed, Superman’s very aware that’s not enough to kill him. Meanwhile, Cyborg Superman ends immobilized and imprisoned. The story ends with Kara hoping to find a way to save her father. If you follow solicits you know they’ll both be back in May’s Action Comics. Some might complain about the never-ending nature of superhero comics. How no victory is ever meaningful because the villain will come back. It’s one of the major problems raised by supporters of the antiheroes. But looking at those villains a metaphor for fascist tendencies, it works. Fascism can be beaten, but it cannot be killed. It will always find a way to creep back under a different name. The weakness of anti-hero stories lies in them giving the reader a fake sense of finality. They tell us we have to do whatever it takes, even if it’s immoral and unethical, to win against the evil. That once we beat it, it’s gone and we can go back to normal. But that’s not true. Evil is forever and it will keep coming at you in new forms. We can see it in today’s world as well. Not so long ago many folks would say fascism died when WWII was over. Allies victory over this evil was final and definite. The questionable choices made by them like bombing civilian cities, were justified because fascism is now dead. Once put down it will never rise to power again. And then Richard Spencer and Steve Bannon started making the news…..

The purpose of this text is not to bash on fans of the antihero characters. But when working with them it's important to show their questionable aspects. Otherwise, they can become propaganda tools for the worst kind of people.