#still considering some fic drafts--they that are festering there

[agallimaufryofoddments]

have you heard baccano! is going to be getting official audiobooks through yen press?

(Nov 2023—question asked).

I've bought both the audiobooks of Volumes 1 and 2. The first, out of obligation. The second, also out of obligation. Honestly, I'm wondering whether I'll keep it up. Each audiobook is about $26 in American dollars. I have sunk a lot of money into Baccano! already, oop, we can admit that most of that money hasn't ever reached the chaps in Dengeki Bunko, or those FUNimation fellows, and I suppose one question is whether I'm willing to continue doinotg so.

"Put the money where it counts," eh?

(I've already paid for both the physical and electronic versions of these books. Now, audiobooks... Four audiobooks are one hundred a pop...? Argh.)

Monetary support is what demonstrates there's fan interest in the series surviving. Wah-hoh. You ask me about the audiobbooks? I was shocked by their happening.

I don't know anything about Yen Press' financial strategies concerning which series warrant audiobooks and which don't. Perhaps I know little about the correlation between audiobook greenlighting and sales in general. I mean, Yen Press refuses to reprint early Baccano! volumes, and now they're releasing audiobooks.

I'll tell you this: Murray giving Isaac and Miria posh accents is a little bit hysterical, by which I mean that it amuses me greatly. Sure, perhaps Isaac is implied to have Rich origins, but m'golly, the poshness of Isaac and Miria in the audiobook certainly offers a different veneer of perspective.

[they-lived]

3, 9, 18, 22

THANKS FOR THE ASK I LOVE YOU 💕💕💕

3) how you feel about your current wip

I’m SO into everything I’m writing right now! I find that June/July - January is my peak creative season for some reason and I’m LOVING IT!!! I will be riding the lightning until further notice!

9) start to finish how long did it take to write the last fic you posted?

Currently whumptober has me in a chokehold and I am pretty much writing a chapter or more a day so the last 17 days has taken maybe 20 or so days of writing and editing. As far as my last completed piece. We Don’t Stay Down sat in my drafts for almost six months but I finally found a way to finish it that I was happy with!

18) if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic.

So I do keep them but most often I’m keeping them to repurpose later down the line but I do have this:

Sometimes he feels like this love is a festering wound. Gaping and infected, killing them both with every second that passes. He likes the pain, likes pressing on a bruise so he can feel the soreness and know it’s still there. What they share is sin and spite and he bathes in it like sunlight.

22) do you ever worry about the public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past it?

I am a selfish writer this is truly my hobby that I do for me and nobody else. I post it because I don’t want it rotting in my folders and I know that someone out there is enjoying it. I don’t really consider most people when I’m writing though I will think “hell yeah Beth is gonna eat this shit up!” If I have a reader who is as invested as me.

I’d be lying if I said I never think about public perception. Especially when I write dark fic and the like - but it’s kind of negligible in my opinion because if I’m posting something it’s because I have really enjoyed writing it or reading it and want to share that. I’ve been very fortunate that I don’t receive much hate or anything and at the end of the day fandom is a community. In a community you don’t always like everyone and everyone doesn’t always like you but I have the power to curate my experience and make my own music to match to. So yeah long winded explanation complete lol

[actual-fucking-clown]

Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

~

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this. 

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them. 

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems. 

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered. 

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough. 

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon. 

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile. 

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it  but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless. 

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke. 

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent.  A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too. 

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I  don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

[prose-for-hire]

The writing bug has bitten me while rewatching BTVS. I'm feeling something festering, something entirely self indulgent, and it has no clear direction. With my history of writing it often falls flat — I've never finished anything considered multi-chaptered, but I've decided to try something different. This time I am going to write without considering to publicly post it. I've heard that helps? I'm hoping it will help me complete a story for once. Do you have any tips for finishing a story?

Yes! Writing something completely self indulgent with no intention of posting can definitely fuel the inspiration!

It’s for you and you don’t need to second guess how much someone may or may not enjoy it! It can kinda takes a pressure off you didn’t realise was there? You’re the target audience so I find it can make ideas flow more easily

I have a few fics that I’ve just written for me that will never grace anyone else’s eyes :) I’m really fond of some of the plot pieces though lol so I might have to find a way to use them in other things !!

For finishing a story, which I’m taking as a separate question, I think it’s important to have that direction. In my longer oc story, Honeysuckle, I’ve already written out most of the final chapter. It works for me cos that way, I have something that I’m writing towards.

If you have at least one singular thread/idea that keeps you on track I feel like that works for both motivation to get there and if you have a complicated story you can plan to tie up any loose ends along the way. The threads that come while you’re writing will flesh it out more!

Of course while writing it can even change it until it’s unrecognisable from that first draft, but it’s still good to have that destination to work towards I think !!

Finally, it’s a labour of love. Write when you’re inspired, not because you feel that you have to. The most important thing, which I say all of the time but I do think it needs to be said is to enjoy the story you’re creating! Have fun with it !!

Good luck with your writing, I hope this helps a little! 💜💜

[dragonshoard]

Charlastor Fic: A few months into their courtship and Alastor is convinced that it’s all still a game. 

His heart had stopped beating years ago yet, somehow, looking at her made him feel something stir deep in his chest, a tiny ember lit aflame. At first, he had assumed that it was borne from amusement or perhaps even anger or annoyance; however, the unfamiliar feeling didn’t disappear. Instead, it festered inside of him, growing as the months passed.

One day, upon entering the building, he was hit by something. Well, two things to be specific. The first being the comparatively tiny slip of a girl he was courting (who was, in reality, rather tall and larger than life if she allowed herself to be). The second thing that hit him was not annoyance, as would have been his usual reaction to such an action, but what he tentatively recognized as fondness.

The... thing in his chest only seemed to grow larger the more he took in her smiling, excited demeanor, unable to help but wrap his arms around her tightly after dematerializing his cane.

“You’re finally here! I missed you!” The last part seemed almost unconscious and her smile faltered for a split second in a moment of hesitation before brightening the room once more with a small dash of hesitation. Despite the past few months they had been courting, she was still more than a little nervous around him (rightfully so). 

The only thing that kept her from stepping out of the embrace was his own arms, wrapped tightly around her, and the claws that dug themselves slightly into her coat.

Alastor’s own smile grew bigger and brighter without his permission in response to her reaction. The flame in his chest grew unnaturally at the slip of tongue and he was quick to encourage the greeting.

“I̸ ̸m̶i̵ssed you too. Every hour I’m away from you is an hour I spend dreaming of you, my sunsh̶i̴n̵e̸.̵” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his static affected voice, pairing naturally with his charm.  

“Ahh,” the blush on her face overtook the ghost white pallor of her skin. “I-I It hasn’t really been that long u h m, oh! I’ve finally got the list of improvements for the hotel ready for you to see!!”

And she was off like a rocket, taking advantage of his loosened grip while still grabbing his hand to pull him along. In the past, the action would have sparked an indignant anger at the audacity of anyone presuming they could touch him, much less move him.

These days, he looked on it as a sort of achievement of how far they’ve come. In the first month, Charlie had been extremely hesitant to even touch him, much less guide him or hold his hand. He found it particularly endearing and filed it away to tease her about it later when she was more comfortable with “them”.

Her previous hesitation came back full force when she seemed to realize that she was still holding onto his hand when she went to grab her paper.

Disappointment and annoyance nearly dimmed his smile when she took a small step away from him before he forced himself to smile wider. He neatly stepped back into her space, putting an arm around Charlie’s shoulder and leaning in under the guise of looking at the paper she had presented him.

Absently, Alastor skimmed the sheet of paper. The draft had some good talking points but was unorganized and had too many colors and drawings for Alastor to take seriously. Regardless, he gave a few comments, adding some points to consider, and gave suggestions for expansion on other topics. He relished in the fact that she often leaned back into him without realizing it when she was addressing him. 

When he felt like they had gotten to a decent ending point for the moment, he led the conversation to what he had originally come to discuss. 

“S̴p̵e̴aking of the futur̸e̶,̵” he paused to present a rose with flourish, lightly glowing green from the use of his magic, “h̸o̷w̵ ̷w̵ould you like to go out tonight. I found the most fabulous little restaurant in the east side of Pentagram city. It is absolutely to die̸ ̶f̴o̴r̷.!” He casually pushed the paper Charlie had shown him away and positioned them so that Charlie was inches away from planting herself directly into his chest.

“I... uh I had a great time last week!” She gave him a big smile that looked a bit too fake for him to believe. “But, I don’t think I’m ready for another restaurant after last time.”

Alastor cocked his head at that. “A̵h̴,̸ ̵m̸y apologizes. Was the food not to your lik̸i̶n̵g̶?̴” He made a mental note to visit the owner after he left the hotel.

His intentions must have shown on his face because Charlie was quick to respond.

“No! The food was great! There was just...” Charlie looked unsure, glancing down at the vibrant red rose with not a single spot of decay before looking back to his grinning face.

“T̷h̶e̴y̶ ̶h̸ave a band and it will be oh so fun my̶ ̶d̴e̵a̴r̷,̶” He teased, the arm around her shoulder squeezing slightly. 

Charlie blinked and visibly seemed to struggle with herself. Alastor took it upon himself to take her arm and press the rose into her hand, carefully avoiding the thorns (though he wondered how gorgeous blood red would look against her pale skin, he preferred it not be her blood).

“A̴ ̶r̵o̴se for a demon beaut̵y̷.̴” He raised the hand that was around her shoulder to cup her cheek. “I̴t̴ ̶p̶a̶l̷es in comparison to your charm but, then again, I would be looking for an eternity if I were to try and find a flower that compared to your stunning smi̷l̶e̵.̷”

Hearts practically flooded her eyes as they gazed into his own. A charmed smile melted into her features, taking over nearly her entire face. 

Pride and, to his chagrin, warmth overflowed within Alastor. It burned through him and he suddenly had the thought that, yes, he would do anything to have her keep smiling at him just like that.

Despite reason and how his heart had ceased to beat many decades ago, he found something of the like burning inside of him for this girl who was naive, yet had so much potential that she was practically brimming with it. The ember had turned into an inferno and he burned for this girl who had somehow taken a part of him that he didn’t know he had needed to guard.

He almost frowned at the stream of thoughts and shoved them out the figurative window. The demon wanted her the same way he wanted everything else: entirely. He would have her. All of her. It was as simple as that.

What did it matter if he lost a bit of himself if it just meant that he would get it back in the end? 

(Hint: he doesn’t get it back)

[veridium]

for the record - cellar gate and this whole mess.

I have thought a lot about this. I know I said I would resign from speaking further on it, but some ideas have come to my attention and so I wish to act on my conscience and consideration. 

I wholeheartedly think toxic positivity is a prevalent issue in fandom and popular culture. I wholeheartedly believe it works as a silencing and tone policing for those most marginalized in our communities. I think it is something we must be critical of when we engage with each other and our expectations from fandom spaces. That being said, one of the primary reasons I am incensed at its prevalence in this fandom is because it has been fueled for all the wrong reasons: for deeply self-serving, personal, and petty reasons, and not simply to see the fandom be better. 

And so, with cautious dread, I am bringing back the issue of the “Cellar Gate” or however it has come to be known.

I think it is safe to say the issue caused a fracture in opinions and people who were all at one time members. I think it is safe to say that drama and dispute has become publicly evident, if not a blaring elephant in the great big room. 

I was one of several people who went public with my membership in the cellar. I did so, in part, to have some kind of autonomy and control over how the narrative was being written. I also did it to take responsibility and combat the ways in which that narrative was being twisted in inflammatory, violent, and deceitful ways. I did it because I was hearing how some of my mutuals were being adversely targeted and effected by my name being included on the “burn list” that circulated in the aftermath. I did it to prevent what I believed antagonists wanted: for a dramatic and righteous crusade to begin, which would drive out the people they believed to be “bad apples.” I did it because it was necessary. 

And I believe that, considering how much was avoided in the way that conflict subsided, I considered it a worthy gambit. People were listened to, reality checks were taken, and the fanfare was allowed to settle. 

Unfortunately, I think some thorns were forgotten about, and left to fester. 

I think the former members/people who used the exposure of the Server and the “Salt” to mount their reckoning moral crusade have used the remains of that to persist with a narrative of positivity and inclusion. This narrative, though shiny and great on the surface, is born of toxic fruit: it was not created purely for selfless, apolitical reasoning. It was created to combat a problem they blamed us for: a cultural fixation they believe exists wherein people allow themselves to be critical bullies in the name of “social justice.” I believe they did so in part to antagonize us in public where explicit callouts could not be used. I believe they push positivity as a means of ameliorating their previous involvement in private conversations they believed malevolent harassment, though they took place in, as I said: private conversations. 

In short: this positivity wave, as we have recently seen in this fandom, is not much more than a bunch of white women wanting to sleep at night again for sins they deem below their moral high-ground. You know, sins such as: privately salting about problematic fics, shit talking people they don’t like, being rude, petty, salty, and at times insensitive. 

One of the reasons I owned up to shit was because I was sick of the image that was being depicted: mean people hiding in some back room somewhere, or backlog of a chat, looking for any reason to tear people apart and be cruel. I was sick of this false interpretation that minimized and reduced a substantial part of my fandom community to heartless maleficents. Especially when these “positivists” once benefitted from, and enjoyed that community as a big part of their audience and support system. Especially when they depended on that community for listening, support, feedback, and friendship. Several of them are people I once considered some of my closest friends in fandom -- people I confided in, trusted, and believed in their integrity. 

Unfortunately, I was misguided. 

There are several reasons I am coming up for air about this. Firstly, so that I am clear when I say it was never my intention -- or that of anyone I know -- to make it seem like this ordeal was more righteous and universal as it really was. What upset me was watching these ideas about “shutting up” and “minding your business” and “being positive” being pushed onto people who had no involvement with the Server drama, who would nonetheless read their incessant reblogs of that content and think, wow, am I a piece of shit would having criticisms for someone’s work? Am I missing the point in being in fandom when I don’t focus on the positive all the time? Because these messages are being circulated by people who, I think, don’t sincerely care about fandom positivity when it doesn’t serve them and their needs of self-soothing and self-reward. That is wrong, and that is a method of undermining and tone policing I think should be called out. 

Secondly, I want to make something explicitly clear: the people pushing positivity and “minding your own business” have all, every single one, participated in the behavior they deem incorrect. They have been comforted by it, they have participated in it, and I would imagine they still do. I have an INCREDIBLY hard time believing that they do not at all speak negatively or harshly about people in fandom considering I, and several others who they deem nemeses, are still here despite their championing. I also have a hard time believing it because they have included and become friends with fandom members who they not-too-long ago verbally and explicitly despised -- people who they lobbied to be banned from the server for being manipulative and toxic, for victimizing them. Someone believed an unsafe presence for them.

And just so we’re clear on this account as well, I’m looking at you, @Tortuosity-Writes, @tanaleth, and @Allisondraste. Hope you’ve been really transparent about that with your newfound friend, @Cassandra-Pentughasst. If not, I know there are plenty of receipts to submit. It’s tax season, no? Just in case you want to suggest it was a matter of ya’ll being poisoned against each other, when you were holding the damn vials yourselves. And the only reason the links don’t work is because we have each other blocked, but somehow I think you’ll see this.  

But I suppose bygones are bygones, right? Positivity! Inclusivity! 

Also, just to prevent some ammunition unnecessary, and because I know well enough the people I’m working with here: I think it’s horseshit to say you’re all about shutting up and being positive while you’re still passive-aggressively shit-talking people in tags and posts, hoping maybe they’ll come across them or that they’ll cause some whispers/drama/stress for those people. Like, for example, @Cassandra-Pentughasst beautifully resentful tags:

Yep, that’s me she’s talking about. And she’s right: I took forever on a commission, was not communicative, and had spelling mistakes, ones which I sincerely apologized for. I did my best but it wasn’t on par with where I should have been. At the time, I thought I was doing it for a friend, though; and when I could, I was communicative. I even asked after sending a draft to look over if she thought it was okay, because I always do so, so my clients are happy (and people can attest to this practice, and I have email and screenshot records as well). She said everything looked good, so I believed her. It was an unfortunate situation where I wasn’t at my best and I was unprofessional. 

What I am not, however, is a coward. 

Which is why this kind of behavior incenses me: it makes it seem like she had no way of telling me something was wrong, or that she was unhappy. And it also makes it seem like no one in my circle is ever critical of me, or is invited to be. Apparently everyone thinks the sun shines out my flaky ass. 

So, here’s my dilemma: how can people who claim they’re all about positivity, integrity, and inclusivity, possibly condone this kind of behavior? How can people who I once called friends say in all seriousness that their standard of decorum doesn’t apply here, because it’s me? Because it’s someone who didn’t agree with them? 

And here’s a very particular thorn: this person, and the group above, only became friends after they all left the server and realized the enemy of thy enemy was thy friend. Before that, it was incessant shit-talking of each other, talking about how one was making them feel unsafe, how toxic they were, and how they should be kicked off or blocked from the server entirely. This person was suddenly forgiven despite the LITANY of conversations and concerns about her trustworthiness, character, and integrity. 

At the end of the day, I obviously cannot control people, and they do change. My stance is, however, that none of these people have changed from who they were. They are people: they shit talk, praise, are friendly and also mean. They make mistakes and are regretful. They dislike things, and dislike people. They have animuses and grudges. They are HUMAN BEINGS like we all are. 

Only one “side,” however, is trying to get people raked over the coals for admitting to partaking in “negative” behaviors. Only one side is pushing a shut-up-and-mind-your-business broad brush when they really mean they want a specific group of people to shut up. Only one side is trying to push a positivity politic that is first and foremost self-serving. 

That, to me, is gross. And that is toxic to fandom as a whole. And I am sick of watching them poke, prod, passive-aggressively post, and seeing their stuff splash onto my dash even though I have them blocked. I am sick of watching it knowing a good portion of what motivates them is spite and antagonism. I am sick of people taking their word for it, and using it as reasoning to be mean to marginalized members. And for that reason I also want to make VERY SURE that no people of color feel like they are being manipulated by anything I have a part in. I want to reiterate: I believe the dysfunction and harm they have circulated to be real and consequential to more than just us tied to the server. I never ever intended false rallying. 

Which is to say: their beliefs that we are obsessing over them day and night, trying to find new ways to ruin their lives and antagonize them, is bullshit. I don’t know about ya’ll, but I have, like, a day job. I have family and friends to spend time with. I have PTSD to treat. I think it is safe to say shit-talking people you dislike in private conversations, and conniving/obsessing, are two different things. 

And, like I said: if any of these people have said no negative, gossipy, or disrespectful things about us, or myself, since the “Exodus,” then my word to those people are: In case you forgot, you didn’t just leave a server: you hurt a lot of people who were your friends. You made a hell of a lot of people feel unsafe and insecure with their visibility in fandom for shit they had no part in. You didn’t just exit and begin some harmless, painless agenda to bring joy to any and all around you. You fucking hurt people. Swallow that pill and recognize that talking about it -- that includes talking about you -- is a valid form of processing and healing form the disruption you caused in all of our lives. Disruption that we are still dealing with. 

Lastly: I have said over and over that I do not care for clout. I do not care for popularity stakes, for “positive” cults of personality. So, if this gets me “cancelled” so be it. But I’d rather be “cancelled” for being transparent than accepted for being shady. My qualms are both broad and personal. I have personal issues with people and I have broad issues with how they are using fandom as a space to enact their false sense of inclusivity. 

And at the end of it, I hope these former friends of mine understand one thing above all else: that I soberingly understand the harm they have done in their desire to live with themselves and their guilt, and it is for that reason -- for everything I saw and everything I heard in the aftermath of their need to redeem themselves and their “side” of things -- that I will never, ever forgive them. I have said many harsh things, I have said many unkind things, and I have made many mistakes. But for as long as I fucking live, I will never, ever elect to be known as someone who tried to pass their vendetta and grudges as a community-oriented, positivity-celebrating, sanctimonious cause that made numerous people, especially people of color, have to go to bat to counter and prevent from doing harm.

Also, on a personal note because why not, the fire is going to consume me anyways: you can’t block half of the femslash/wlw genre because you’re insecure about your work or have had drama with them, and then lament that there’s a lack of material. Whoops!

So, yeah, I’ve fucked up. I have. But I can also call bullshit when I see it. And if this ends my tenure in the fandom, again, so be it. I have my friends and my community, and I don’t just jump ship when I see the stormy weather ahead. I have my life, and my loved ones. And more importantly: I sleep very, very well. 

Oh and, for the record, contrary to all ya’lls stuff, we aren’t a cult. And I didn’t have to ask permission for posting this from anyone, or mind my manners. I also think it’s very telling when people enact the same standards of control, us vs. them, and dehumanizing that cults are supposedly known for -- and then call us one. It’s really convenient, isn’t it? To have distance from the people you hurt and betrayed, and then say it was nothing more than a cult? And to say that their methods of healing, supporting one another, and processing their anger and pain in private is only proof that they’re a cult?

Yes. Really convenient. 

So, there. You want a battle? I think you all know damn well I’m armed. All that I ask is you save your ammunition for me, and not for my friends. Not for people who had nothing to do with the mess we’ve made. Or else. 

And this is all to say that, if I have made anyone feel manipulated, led-on, used, or exploited for any of this - then that is something I am responsible for and I sincerely apologize. It is behavior that is below me, and certainly not my intention, but I don’t get to decide how I impact people’s lives and their participation. So, again, I am sorry. And I respect any and all choices you make on that account. 

[otomeonfleek]

Request: Sick w/ Eisuke Ichinomiya

anonymous asked:

i have a request, can you write about eisuke having an affair behind mc's back but little did he know mc knew it all along. Mc didn't leave or confront him because she wants to keep her promise that eisuke makes her which is to never leave his side.But everything changes when mc was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Mc left him without telling the true reason why she left. Eisuke regretting his actions try searching for mc but maybe a little too late?? ( the stick around fic was hella good!)

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Ahhh I made a fairly long fic again. It seems that I am incapable of making short ones lol. I hope you enjoy this and I apologize if it isn’t what you had in mind! Btw, there isn’t any proper dialogue until the very end as I wanted to focus on building up to it. 

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

Is there any right way to tell someone that you’re dying? You can recite it, make drafts, practice in the mirror, and it still is something neither is ready to hear. 

In your youth, you’ve envisioned a million ways your life could go. Tucked in the arms of a man that loves you in a white dress, moving into a beautiful house that you’ll spend months decorating to make it feel like home, having a darling child or two, and then spoiling your own grandchildren. That was the plan-not this. 

You stood bare in front of the bathroom mirror, burning the image into your mind of the nasty purple splotches peppering your arms, the thinning limp hair, and the gaunt hollows of your cheeks. 

It had been weeks since you found out the technical terms of what was wrong with you. The fact that a few syllables stringed together could ruin you made you bitter. Perhaps a reason why you were especially vulnerable to the negative thoughts running through was because of a certain someone. 

Lately, you were ensnared in a continuous battle of what hurt more-the sickness or the lies. As cliche as it was, one was tearing at your body and the other your actual soul. You almost felt that knowing the truth crippled you the worst. It made you passive and proved how willing you were to look the other way because of the hold he had on you. 

No, it wasn’t his money or power that kept you trailing behind him. It was worse-you stuck around because you loved him with every fiber of your being. Through the disappointments, the arguments that strained both your throats raw, the dates long-forgotten, and the supposed business calls- you were stuck in a love he considered routine. 

Regardless of whether it was his personality or his social class, he was the one calling the shots and jerking your feelings around. Knowing that you were the one that let him take advantage of you furthered how repulsed you were at the sight staring back in the mirror. Yes, the form in its bruised flesh and skeletal-figure horrified you, but you hated the person more for allowing this to continue for so long. 

It took you a while to piece it together. The first incident that caught your eye was the night of your fifth anniversary. You scrambled to finish your shift early, then spent hours fixing your appearance and nicked the price tag of a new dress that strained your budget. 

That entire week, your colleagues and friends teased you on how giddy you were. Years into the relationship and you still felt your heart flutter for the man. 

You found yourself an hour early in the penthouse and eagerly waiting for your partner to arrive. The restaurant was Michelin worthy and kept a stunning view of the city below. It was a place you had long raved about and that he had secretly made note of in that emotionally awkward way of his. 

Before you knew it, three hours has passed and you had already blowed his phone up with texts to no avail. You were a combination of concerned and furious, but knowing his background, you felt with your luck that maybe he had been kidnapped. 

Burning holes in the tiling, you had been found by the other bidders that seemed especially disturbed that you were still in the penthouse sans hotel magnate partner on the evening of your anniversary . 

You brushed them off and made an excuse of how you understood he was a busy man, but felt odd on how Soryu seemed to avoid your stare. From his nervous tic of painfully rubbing the back of his neck to his downcast eyes, something was surely eating at him. Had you not been so disappointed with the night’s turn of events, you would have approached him. If you had, maybe things would have turned out better. 

Nearly one in the morning with you curled up on a love-seat and half-asleep did your date finally arrive. You were too exhausted and emotionally-drained to respond when he gently picked you up. Cradling you in his arms, he carried you to your shared bedroom. 

You recall him softly apologizing and then making up for his absence by spending the remainder of the night entangled in another’s arms. Nothing else was strange except for the faint scent of lavender you remembered. From then on, you would smell lavender every few weeks until a hatred of the plant festered in you. 

The instance that shook your world was when you woke up in the middle of the night with murmuring faint in the other room. You crept past and felt your heart drop to your stomach when you heard his familiar baritone utter lewd phrases meant for another. 

There had to be some mistake. It was a bad dream. Perhaps, he just needed to sweet-talk someone for another shady deal. 

You had been together for years through thick and thin from attempted assassinations to blackmail and petty arguments. Promises to stay together for the long run and countless actions proving your trust in another-no, this could not be happening. 

The next morning, you kissed him on the lips as you usually did and carried on with your life. It was the cowardice and desperation inside that prevented you from confronting him and risk the life you had made together. 

You knew it was unhealthy and violated every one of your values to think that maybe if you kept your mouth shut, if you continued to play the role of the perfect girlfriend that he would marry you. The two of you could still be happy together and that he would soon tire of the other woman. 

Now as you stare in the mirror and dissect every freckle and insecurity you have harbored for the past year, you know you can’t go on. 

The young girl with an honesty like no other still exists in you, dying shell and all. With that, you make the decision to disappear. You feel bittersweet when it’s Soryu that helps you get away. 

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

Sitting on a lone park bench, you don’t react when he comes to sit beside you. You keep your eyes forward with your thin lips pressed in a tight line and wait. 

“...” The silence drags on for several moments as the chill of autumn breezes past. With a slight childhood-like innocence, you note that you can see your breath. 

He shifts and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees before burying his face in his hands. The way he holds himself is so different from the Eisuke Ichinomiya the public knows. There is no confidence and the way his shoulders are hunched over makes him seem smaller. His designer and neatly pressed purple dress-shirt and suit is replaced with a quiet black sweater. 

For how well you are holding up, you nearly flinch when you hear him speak after going without the sound for months. “...It wasn’t easy...finding you. I was surprised.” 

Rather than wasting your breath to entertain his version of small-talk, you keep silent and focus on a grand tree with reddening branches. It would be lovely to paint it. 

“I thought I knew you better than anyone else,” He slowly rose and cocked his head to catch your eye. 

The piercing and calculating sepia was vacant, and now seemed more exhausted than anything. His features were always finely chiseled, but the hollows of his cheeks seemed sickly. In your mind, you laughed bitterly at how you were supposed to be the dying one yet his haggard appearance challenged yours. 

With a rather heavy exhale, he continued, “I once thought I could see right through you and read everything about you. I was wrong.” His tone was low and each word carried its individual weight. 

You used whatever remaining strength and furled your thin digits into fists, trying to fight back the trembles as your throat tightened. 

“I could do anything, say anything, and know that you would still be there. I could hurt you-I did hurt you, and you stayed.” The brunette male pursed his lips and glanced away with a pained expression. 

You finally gathered the bits of resentment and hurt that festered in you to air it out. “I...I really believed in you. I convinced myself that if I stuck it out that...You would forget the other woman and that we would be okay. We could just continue on, we would get married, and we would be fine.” Mustering the nerve, you properly jutted your shoulders to face him head-on and stunned him with the severity of your eyes. 

“Do you know how twisted that is-to think like that? I was so in love with you that I made myself sick,” you spat out the words with such venom that he nearly reeled back. 

Forcing a bitter laugh out, you gritted your teeth, “Now look at me! I really am sick.” Mockingly, you gestured to your frame and picked at the sweaters that swallowed your thin frame whole. 

He remained still, finally getting a proper glimpse into your perspective after all this time. Chest raising heavily, your ex-lover tried, “I can get you help. There’s a hospital in-” 

“Stop. If I really wanted, don’t you think I could have asked Soryu or any of the others?” You sent him a bitter smile, your eyes twinkling humorlessly. Oh, how the tables have turned. You were like a stonewall with cool features while he was fumbling around. 

“(Y/N), you don’t want to die. You’re not throwing your life away because of something shitty I did. I can help-” The words died in his mouth when you raised your hand to signal that he stop again. 

“I’m not throwing my life away. I just want to do things at my own pace now.” This time, your smile was much less cruel as you considered what that meant to you. You pulled at the collar of your woolen coat, noting how stiff your fingers felt from the frigid air. 

The fury and passion that was the Tres Spades King seemed to ignite as he straightened in his seat to bark out, “At your own pace? You can’t think like that and take your damned time!! This isn’t a game-you are dying!!” 

You shook your head, almost feeling oddly comforted to see him in his usual raging spirits. “You’re not listening. I spent years living at your pace, trailing after you, doing what you want. Now I want to live as I like.” 

The words seemed to finally hit him and you decided to provide that extra security for him. “I’m actually getting better. It doesn’t seem like it now, but I feel it.” 

Several long moments passed as your own (e/c) gazed into his, trying to convey every frustrated and hopeful emotion that was surging through you. 

This was your life now. 

It wouldn’t have the white dress, the giddy laughter of children running through a home that you’ve built, or the adoring spouse. Your plans had changed and your priorities altered to fit this reality. It would be one likely without Eisuke Ichinomiya and that knowledge made your heart crumble once more as you forced a smile towards him.

Being with him had been painful. 

Learning to be without him as you healed would be painful. 

The realization that you could no longer smell lavender on him was painful. 

This was your life now.   

[lhupics]

Draft 1 Bodyguard fic

The battle was over.

Blood stained the plains and the scent of death was heavy on the air. Slowly but steadily the injured Morna'zjar soldiers marched back to their encampment. How many died in the latest fight between the Alkumaran army and the rebellion could not be said yet.

On top of a hill, at the edge of the battlefied, a large standard flowed in the wind. It was the position of the Alkumaran army's command. One of them drew attention to himself in particular, wearing red armour and a black and red mantle over it, and a matching helmet to conceal his identity. One large sword was bound to his back. At first sight he seemed to be like a statue. He stood silent with his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching the progress of the campaign.  From behind his visor the gaze in his eyes didn't show a lot of emotion. His entire attitude was calm and aloof, although that was only the service. He threw a glance at the soldiers marching by, noting their appearance and condition. “Keep your men on a leash, Jarevar. These are still Alkumaran citizens we are fighting against, our people.”

The man he addressed was something completely different. It was an older man with a full moustache. Even though he was standing at the edge of a battlefield he wasn’t dressed like a warrior. In fact, he looked like he just came out of a bath house, newly washed and dressed in very expensive and fine cloth. “They are rebel scum and the Assembly has ordered us to crush them. That is our duty. You'd do best not to forget that.”

There came no response, which annoyed the older man greatly. The Assembly's choice for this silent man to lead their army puzzled him. He hadn't even seen him take off his helmet once in public, let alone that he'd be close enough to the commander to see it happen in private. “You are not seriously going to wait until the last soldier returns from the battlefield, are you?”

When he looked into the fiery eyes he gasped for breath. From the looks of it that was entirely the commander's plan. Because he was supposed to keep watch over the young man he couldn't leave his side and that bothered him. This was going to be a long wait. Usually he liked having a huge army, but that backfired on him now.

Evening already came when some of the last companies returned from the battlefield. Ahead of them walked a tall Morna'zjar soldier, one of the Strike Leaders. He drew attention because of his unusual black, grey and white colouring as well as the feathers adorning the end of his tail. The Morna'zjar male stopped when he reached the hill with the commander and knelt down.

The older man crossed his arms in front of his chest and addressed the young Strike Leader. “Zetsuran, have our soldiers retreated from the battlefield?”

Zetsuran kept his head bowed. “Yes, lord Jarevar. All of our companies should be back at their respective camps now. Our losses are being counted as we speak, sir.”

The red commander turned to face the Strike Leader. “Has Andokai returned from battle, Zetsuran?”

“No, my lord.” The Morna'zjar soldier shook his head. “She was the first to enter the battle and while it was going on my men and I were separated from her. It was difficult already to keep up with her as it was. When I was gathering the troops to head back she was still engaged in a fight.”

When no response came Zetsuran started to get nervous. His tail swept from side to side behind him and he bowed even lower. He often considered himself fortunate to have been chosen as Strike Leader, for he served the red commander directly and for a while now, reminding him he should be used to the man's silences at this point. Zetsuran took a deep breath. “Do you wish me to return and find her, lord?”

“Oh don't even bother,” Aeron Jarevar growled beside Anrivan. He turned around on his heels and waved. “The wench can find her way back herself.” As soon as he spoke those words he came to regret them.

He didn't know how, but the Morna'zjar soldier was near him in mere seconds, trapping him with his tail and bringing a sword to his throat. Zetsuran growled in return. For threatening a commanding officer he could be hanged, but he didn't care. “I would watch your tongue if I were you, Lord Jarevar. Perhaps it would be better if you returned to your tent with your silk clothes and your perfumed baths and stick to matters you are familiar with, instead of talking down a warrior of Andokai's caliber.”

The older man paled considerably and struggled to free himself, but his strength was no match for the Morna'zjar. “You insolent beast. I should have you killed for this behaviour. Show some respect to a superior officer!”

Zetsuran threw a glance at his commander, who just needed a flick of his fingers to signal the soldier to release the man. “I will show you respect when you earn it, Lord Jarevar. From the looks of things I don't think you'll earn it any time soon.” He knelt down again afterwards.

Jarevar turned to the red warrior, fuming with fury. “I hope you will see to it that this soldier will be properly disciplined.” He expected to be acknowledged, but when that did not come he threw another deadly glance at the Morna'zjar and the commander before walking to his tent and disappearing behind the curtains.

“Zetsuran.”

The Morna'zjar looked up and saw he was allowed to rise to his feet again. “Yes, lord?”

“I will seek out Andokai myself.”

For a moment Zetsuran wondered if he heard that correctly, but when he saw how the commander descended the hill and walked towards the battlefield he knew the man was serious. A set of curses escaped his lips and he bit into his gloved fingers. He put his legs into motion and followed the commander down. “My lord, what are you doing? You can not go out there by yourself. The rebellion will think it an opportunity to get rid of you and will not hesitate to see to that.”

The head covered by a plate helmet turned, only throwing a glance Zetsuran's way, a glance that chilled his blood. “I am going for a walk. Those that get in my way will die.”

Zetsuran nodded, remaining silent. He followed the man, leaving a few feet of distance between them, so he wouldn't be disrespectful and still able to guard him.

The second Anrivan set a foot upon the battlefield it felt as if a heavy weight fell off of his shoulders. A sense of freedom overcame him; a peace of mind he hadn't known for a while and he was relieved to no longer feel Jarevar's prying eyes upon him.

That man annoyed him to no end and not just these days. Back in the days of his father's reign at the royal court in Aldéran, before the change, Lord Aeron Jarevar was already a greedy and vain bastard, who only cared about his own profit, whose eyes followed Andokai's every move. Cold rage festered inside him when he thought about how that man carelessly threw Andokai's life away just now.

His eyes carefully scanned the surrounding bodies on the ground. It would probably take hours to find her, but he didn't care. He had to find her. Without her this ordeal would become unbearable.

Zetsuran continued to follow quietly. He kept his purple eyes open and used his keen ears, searching while at the same time remaining aware of his surroundings. Bird of prey were circling in the air, looking for a good meal. There would be plenty of food for them now.

Instinctively he moved across the battlefield towards the place where he'd last seen the female warrior, eventually getting ahead of his commanding officer.