#thirteen can also fight people who question her authority for being a woman. as a treat

[lesbiten]

every time thirteen is told she cant be the 'doctor' because shes a woman u can see theres a brief moment where she considers committing crimes right then and there but holds herself back. what if she didnt.

[dienamights]

Unfavorable Guidance | H.Shinso

​✎ Mindjack has been doing these kind of jobs since he was recruited as a hero, he is unmistakingly the best at them, doesn’t need anyone butting their noses in his business, especially you, the sly fox in disguise, offering your tainted helping hand.

✎ Protagonists: Hitoshi Shinso x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 6.4K

✎Category: noncon/dubcon, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

✎Caution(!):  noncon/dubcon, Smut 18+ MDNI please, , mentions of alcohol, mentions of murder, minor character death, sex under quirk use, spitting, degrading, swearing, manipulation, unprotected sex. 

✎ Author’s notes: I KNOW I’M LATE EUFGKHDFVBDFXL, but here is my contribution to @daisy-bakugo​ 2k event Vice City! Please take the time to read everyone’s work if you haven’t! Thank you so much for letting me participate.

I listened to this throughout the entire process of writing it, if you’re familiar with Kingdom Hearts, some names will ring a bell to you lol. also I hate the header and the summary but you’re just gonna have to live w it for now cause its 8 am I NEED SLEEP

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The annual auction of Vice City is one of the biggest social events of the year. The wealthiest families and richest people in the world come from everywhere in attempts to win what is secretly considered the greatest treasures of all time. Greatest and most expensive.

Alas, the after party held later on is what people are all secretly actually waiting for, where the most exquisite and rarest artifacts of the year get auctioned off to whoever is lucky enough to even be included in the guest list.

While not all are there for the auctions, it certainly is the perfect opportunity for anyone who's anyone in the world to show off their wealth. Filthy rich people sway all around, laughing and bragging. Venetian crystal chandeliers, velvet carpets, gambling, and alcohol. Men with their cigars, men with their wives, and men with their arm candies, their escorts or mistresses.

Yet, Shinso isn’t here for the luxury, he isn't here for the fame and the fortune, nor the reputation people thrive for when they buy those - meaningless, he calls them - relics. No, he is here on a mission, one he certainly wants to be done and over with because he wants to go home. He loosens his tie with an aggravated sigh before knocking back the last of his only gin and tonic, the bitter taste prickling his throat as he surveys the crowd of people all around him while he stands idly by the bar.

He knew it’d be a pain in the ass the second he got the mission assigned to him from the agency, the words “intel” and “Vice City'' of all places forced a frown upon his face, yet, being the most suitable for this job, he couldn't really decline.

Mindjack isn’t the type of hero you see on billboards and magazines, isn’t the type of hero to kiss babies’ heads that get thrusted at him in meet and greets, he certainly isn’t one to have those adoring fan clubs that follow his every move, posting about his greatest conquests. Oh no, he is a hero that works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, undercover -lie through your teeth throughout the whole ordeal- kind of hero, the kind of hero that goes home at the end of his missions with no gratitude towards his work, because nobody knows who he is or what he contributes to the society.

For the longest time, Shinso accepted the life he’s living, he didn’t look for validation from the citizens, knowing his work is always beyond the scope of their knowledge and their awareness, but sometimes, just sometimes, the sour droplets of envy would foul his mouth when his amethysts for eyes scan over the extravagant heroes, making a show out of saving their cities and getting praised and awarded and loved for doing what they’re supposed to be doing, their job. 

“Squeeze that glass a bit more and you’d break it”

A voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him, Shinso blinked twice before his eyes dragged over to you, oh so beautiful and oh so close. Your nimble fingers wrapped around his fingers, the lacey glove lightly scratches his hand before he lets go of the glass in surprise, dropping it into yours. You giggle sweetly, turning around to place it on the bar before ordering your own, but not without looking at him over your shoulder and sending him a smile.

“What will it be, sugar tits?” the bartender leans over the counter, towel thrown on his shoulder as he sends you what's supposed to be a sultry look. Your elbow is placed on the counter while you rest your chin on your hand, smiling temptingly at him. “Anything that’ll get you to stop staring at my boobs.” Shinso almost laughs at the contrast between your smile and your voice, sharp and venomous, and the man leans back so far from you like he’s been stung. Walking away to work on a drink for you.

Shinso’s eyes rake your body without his knowledge, he admires the dress adorning your body, hugging you in all the right places, cascading down to the floor, and that slit my god, your legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how you can strut so elegantly with them on. A snap of your fingers breaks his trance and he tries - keyword tries - to act nonchalant to his obvious ogling and you only laugh in return.

You hum lowly, “So,” you’re turning to face him as you lean back on the counter, pushing your chest out to grasp even more of his attention, “what's an esteemed hero like you doing in a place like this?” It takes Shinso a good minute before he narrows his eyes, left foot back and ready to either take you down or run away if you were to involve greater forces. No one is supposed to know about his true identity, no one is supposed to know that there is a hero within them.

But what shakes his demeanor is the way you dangle his wallet in front of him, like dangling a stupid feather for some silly cat, waiting for it to jump at you to entertain you. Shinso swallows with a struggle, deciding that using his quirk to retrieve his wallet back will lead to him leaving, and he didn’t want that. He’s been keeping an eye on the wanted man for hours now, and it’ll all go to waste because of your slimy little hands and your-

“Here,” you toss it back to him, and he stumbles a bit before catching it properly, eyeing you for any sudden movements, but you simply turn back around in time to hold the drink from the bartender’s hand with a smile dazzling your lips. “You’re getting intel on The Wise?” you mumble against your cup, sipping slowly, eyes never leaving Shinso’s glaring ones. How the fuck do you know?

“You’re not the first.” you smirk, finger wiping the smeared lipstick against the glass before circling the rim. “You all look the same, thinking you’re better than them because of your position in the society, only for that ego to come and bite you right in the ass.” It’s almost ironic how poisonous your voice could get while still maintaining that mesmerizing smile, and oddly enough, Shinso’s eyes keep drooping despite his desperate attempt to fight against them.

You hum again, the click of your heels sounding muffled to him, eyes blurring when you get so close to him your breath tickles his cheek. “But you’re different, hmm? You’re gonna make the bad guy go away?” 

“Yes.” it's rushed, almost desperate, and the hero is astonished at how he sounds. “Then, lemme help you… Hitoshi.”

A blink, and you’re gone just like you vanished right from under his nose, slipped right between his fingers. A low curse escapes Shinso’s lips and he turns around swiftly to question the bartender, hell bent on getting any information on the girl that just revealed his entire identity and mission to him in a matter of seconds. 

“How can I help you, sir?” the question boggles his mind, the big burly man with an attitude problem wasn’t there anymore, replaced by another sweet woman that held concern in her eyes at his sight. “You’ve been staring at the wall for a while there, need me to call your driver to get you back?” 

“Wa- but I- She,” Shinso’s body started heating up in anger, worry, embarrassment, he doesn’t really know, but what he wants to know right this instant is how long he’s been out of it and for god’s sake, why?

Shinso doesn’t really consider himself to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but dammit did he feel like a complete idiot letting you run off like that, a quick trip to the restroom for a splash of water clears his head enough for him to pull back his wallet from his pocket, flipping through it and finding something he was absolutely sure wasn’t there prior to your visit. A silver card, with ‘Surveillance room’ scribbled on a note behind it.

Caving in and accepting whatever help you were offering him, Shinso slides the card through the reader, sighing in relief upon the satisfying ding sound, followed by the door opening to the surveillance room.

“Now that’s what’m talking about.” life got so much easier now that he could watch The Wise through multiple screens, making it hard to miss a single move of his. The hero allows himself to relax a bit, hand messing with his hair and tired eyes blinking in irritation against the glare of the screens. The Wise was the mastermind of Organization XIII, as their name intel, they’re consisting of the same thirteen members that founded it years ago, nobody really knows how they started, what shocked the whole world is how grand their first crime actually was, bloodbath of the century -they would call it, seventeen slaughtered heroes, followed by their families, including women and children, thousands of millions of ¥ in money laundering atop of it, all within a span of 4 months, that was years ago, back in their prime.

Now, with eight of them behind bars, the remaining five were able to stay under the radar, distributing whatever money they were able to keep between them and fleeing to different parts of the world. Just because they were apart, didn’t mean they were any less dangerous, The Wise is a prime example for that, brutally murdering three of the undercover heroes sent his way to bring him back to justice, but they weren’t Shinso, he’d try to remind himself.

May their soul rest in peace, they were those heroes he felt dissociated from, the type of heroes to flaunt their powers, monetize the peoples’ knowledge of their quirks, uncover the secrets of their job, they were easy targets for people like The Wise, he’d know their weaknesses and how to take them down before they even think about pursuing him. Now, Mindjack was a different story, he wasn’t held on a pedestal by the people he saves, simply because they don’t recognize him, while he would loath that reality sometimes, he thanks the god for it today, as he’s watching the man’s call out for a drink.

Amethyst eyes scan the remaining screens, widening upon the sight of you looking right back at them, you are a vixen to him, eyes half lidded with a smile so intoxicating it does nothing but entrance whoever was lucky enough to catch its sight. Lace clad fingers wrapping around a piece of paper, you are so beautiful, Shinso tries to stop his mind from wandering, imagining what you wore underneath that angel crafted dress, envisioning what those fingers could do to please him, the same fingers that held the unfolded paper, the word ‘RUN’ smeared across it in lipstick.

Wait a minute, run?

Even before the poor hero could react, the similar satisfying -now dreadful- ding rings in his ear, before the door opens behind him, illuminating the room even more. Shinso stands to face two men, both as surprised as he is to see another occupant in the room. Right before any of them move, the hero opens his mouth and prays to god that whatever way he’s winging it works. “You got a permit to be here?”

Jesus one of you answer, and they both do - the left having fingers curving into talons while the right pulled at strings from the tips of his fingers, both ready to attack - and by god Shinso couldn’t be happier upon hearing a sound, because the minute the word ‘yes’ slips through their lips, Mindjack is smiling like a madman, welcoming the look of glossy eyes and heavy heads like a beloved relative’s return back home. 

“Great… Now,” the two manipulated  men face him, unaware of the dreaded fate bestowed upon them, while Shinso just can’t seem to keep the glint in his eyes at bay. “Why don’t you put on a show for me,” he breathes, smiling down at the ground before looking at them. ”Choke the fucking life out of each other.” The men don’t even blink, quick to face each other and jump, hands wrapped around throats like a vice, Shinso only moves away from the men on the floor as they thrash and kick at each other, limbs flailing as they try to force the life out of each other.

Turning his back against them, Shinso eyes the screen he was monitoring before their entrance, ignoring the groans and gasps of air behind him. He curses under his breath when he sees The Wise getting up from his place, heading towards a room that is supposed to be monitored by screen #6, but is purposely out of service. If he isn’t able to question The Wise or even keep an eye on him, then he’s gonna head on over to the next best thing. Gargled screams echo through the corridor as the hero makes his exit, making sure the door clicks shut behind him, he wouldn’t want to cause disturbance to the esteemed guests of the society of lowlifes.

Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, killing machines that didn’t spare the live of the innocents, so why should he spare theirs? 

Shinso makes it back to the main event, immediately finding you between guests, sitting so pretty on the poker table, eyes drawing him closer, the grin adorning your lips now wobbly, easy for him to distinguish as fake, forced, a façade kept for the people surrounding the table. He is hasteful in settling himself in the chair near you, shoulders tense when different pairs of eyes fall upon him, the dealer shuffles the deck to draw cards for Shinso, but you hold your hand out with a smile. “He’ll sit this one out, by my lucky onlooker.” A round of laughter causes Shinso to flush in embarrassment, feeling degraded and looked down upon by all these lowlifes, petty thieves and criminals, thinking they’re better than him, oh he’ll show them.(1)

It takes a few rounds for the table to empty out, now occupied by Shinso and yourself, the dealer asks him to move over to the next chair before they start their game. “Place your bets.” you’re quick to slide over a few of your chips to his side - some black, others red and blue, he didn’t really pay that much attention to them- your eyes daring him to reject your invitation to take the money to play.

He only blinks at you, his eyes seemingly never wanting to lose sight of you as he fights with himself to sit straight to face the dealer again, the man proceeds to deal both of you the cards for you to review before placing your bets. “You tricked me.” Shinso is almost appalled at the hurt laced in his voice, as if the two of you had a bond that was never meant to be broken. “don’t believe so, told you to run didn’ I?” The mockery in your voice is a hoax, the single twitch in your brow catches his attention and he can only deem it as you being stressed, whether it be because of the ordeal regarding the surveillance room or not is beyond him. No, he was stupid and foolish and he will not fall for your silly games again. “Exactly, you knew they were coming.” you hum in response to his accusation.

“Call.” Dropping a few of your chips on the table, your eyes shift momentarily to him, “I did, I said I’d help you and here I am.” He slams his bet on the table, ‘Raise’ gritted right through his teeth at your words. “I don’t want your help!” He reveals his cards on the table, a way to show his disinterest in your assistance as the dealer announces ‘Flush’ at his hand. Your eyes meet again from above your cards, now narrowing down instead of the half lidded look you seem to always have “You don’t want it, but you need it.” The façade you held before is slowly but surely breaking, now a deep frown tugging at your lip as you reveal your own hand, brows furrowing even further in challenge as you hum in displeasure when the dealer announces your ‘Full House’ hand to be the winner of this round.(2)

Shinso moves swiftly to stand when he sees you do the same, right before his entire world starts to spin, lights and colors mingling together and causing his head to spin, he sits down again, head between his hands as he tries to calm himself down, it's probably the strain of the mission, maybe it’s the weight bestowed upon his shoulders to finish it up. The hero lifts his head up to ask you, about something he himself isn’t even sure of, he just wants to hear your voice, like a drug to him that he can’t help but ask for more. Except when he does, you aren’t there, the table is occupied by different people, the dealer is another man with longer hair and slimmer figure, and by god did Shinso want to rip his hair out.

The minute he feels like he could get back on his own to feet without falling down on his ass, Hitoshi is quick to check his pockets, adamant to find a clue your sneaky hands slid into one of his pockets while he was out, despite the tantrum he almost threw at not wanting your help nor guidance, and he does find something, a simple metal key, attached to it was a tag with the number XIII on it. 

In his shock, he almost drops the key on the ground but barely holds himself together to avoid any further embarrassment, Shinso takes deep breaths, knowing that the key in his possession is his entry to the heart of the organization, and especially to The Wise. 

Every year, specifically at the Vice City annual auction afterparty, The Wise holds a meeting with the most dangerous men within the continent, the most loathsome masterminds of the criminal world, all in the hopes of recruiting one of them into the organization, to uphold its name and spread its message. Every year, with no recruitment yet. 

With trembling hands, Shinso stuffs the key back into his pocket, eyes on the lookout for anyone who might’ve caught the key in his hand, but sighs in relief when he sees some engrossed in their meaningless poker and absurd talks, while the majority have made their way to the next hall over for the auction that is being held. He takes the stairs three at a time up the floors, facing a red oak double door, the same forsaken number engraved into it. After multiple failed attempts at inserting the key in the lock, he finally does with a huff, hearing the lock echoing in his ears before pushing the door open.

To be honest, Shinso didn’t know what he was expecting to see on the other side of the door, he thought maybe he’d watch weaponry trade off, perhaps people brawling and fighting amongst each other for the title of being the new members. But he certainly didn’t expect to be engulfed in jazz music, men with their cigars laughing and chatting, without a single care in the world, as if their hands weren’t tainted with the blood of the innocents, oh how he loathed them. In an attempt to fit in, he grabs a glass of whiskey from the butler standing by the door, nodding to him in thanks before moseying his way over to the corner in the room, he’d be damned if he got caught in the crossfire of those lunatics.

A stage is set up in the front of the room, and it takes a second for him to acknowledge the pole placed right at its center, it takes him another few seconds to see the beauty dancing on that pole, Shinso’s eyes rake her body without his knowledge, he admires the lingerie adorning her body, hugging her in all the right places, garter snug against her thighs as she twirls, her legs looking endless in those heels he wonders how she can dance so elegantly with them on… wait a minute. 

As if predicting the minute he realized it was you, you twirl to face him, lips pulled into a smile yet again, a giggle interrupting your humming as your body twists and turns on the pole. Shinso isn’t really sure how long he sits there captivated by your body, the only thing breaking his trance is the clap on his back and the heavy weight that sits next to him. “Beauty, isn’t she?”

Bile rises to Shinso’s throat at the mere sound of the person next to him, fear stills him in his place, restricting any movement he’s even thinking of doing, all he could do is sit, widened eyes and sweaty brows at the sight of The Wise right beside him. 

“Don’cha love it when women like her,” The Wise points at you with his cigar, “work to please men like us?” His arm now completely wrapped around Shinso’s shoulder as the hero feels his soul levitating from his body. “Look aroun’ya,” and he does, and only then does he really pay attention, he should’ve seen it all along, the glossy eyes, the droopy heads, it's a sight he was so well accustomed to that his brain normalized it to him. With whatever courage he musters up, he shifts his eyes to look at the man beside him, noticing the ear plugs he wore, and right then the gears start to turn in his head. “My most prized possession I tell’ya.” 

Of course you would be, how else would you have access to all these things, the card, the key, the vanishing from thin air, it all makes sense now.

“Enjoying yourselves, gentlemen?” your words are flowing like honey to his ears, a low buzz ringing in his brain as you spoke to the men in front of you. His ability to frown is nonexistent, a relaxed look adorning his face as he looks up at you, so elegant and beautiful in whatever hugged that miracle of a body.

“Sure are,” The Wise jerks Shinso by the shoulder, and he realizes that was done to break whatever trance he was in, he could only glare back at you when you smile at them, that conniving smile that hosted all the lies you spouted to him.

“y/n,” He calls you and by God if this isn’t the most beautiful name Shinso ever hears, what a shame it's being tainted by the voice of this criminal. “Wadda ya say to takin’ this fine boy to the red room, hm?” The man urges him to stand and take your hand, which he did at the blink of an eye, his body moving on it’s own to graze his lips against your knuckles in a breathless kiss. “Treat’m real nice for me.” The hero’s feet take him to follow you, his steps light, like walking on clouds, the sway of your hips pulling him closer to you until his chest is flush against your back, pushing you to move faster into the room you are pointed towards.

Walking aimlessly through hallways, taking lefts and rights he would never be able to recollect in his current state, you both enter a room, red just like The Wise called it, crimson silk sheets fitted on a king sized bed, maroon loveseats and plush carpets, everything in that red hue that it's almost nauseating. 

Bringing your hands in a loud clap, the fogginess in Shinso’s vision dissolves, your creased brows and frown now more prominent to him than ever, his eyes catch the scar trailing from the back of your neck to your cleavage, confused as to why his usual perceptive self would miss it, but then again, he doesn’t feel like he was ever himself throughout this whole ordeal.

To say he was furious is an understatement, he never felt more played in his life, he is Mindjack, the most conniving hero of all of Japan, he was manipulative and sly , known by his people to get jobs done, no matter who his opponent is, he always comes back victorious. And when his ears pick up your sigh of relief, he could only see red, he is hurt, he is scared, but now its his act, his turn to fuck shit up, he wants to hurt, he wants to scare.

“Fuckin’ lying bitch,” It takes him all but two steps for his body to graze yours, tantalizing eyes boring down into yours as you gasp at the close proximity, “you were workin’ with’em this entire fuckin’ time?”

“N-no that’s not it,” you stutter, flustered at his overwhelming presence, trying to put some distance between you and the fuming man by pushing his chest, “Please, I need you to listen to me.” 

“Oh, now you’re beggin’ hmm?” his firm warm hands circle your wrists, tugging them away from his body and using them to pull you even closer to him, his breath now grazing the tops of your cheeks, “Didn’t your boss tell you to treat me right?” he breathes, “well, get to it, slut.”

“That’s not what this is Hitoshi, just listen-” for the love of all that’s pure in this world, why does the sound of his name exceed his perception of how happiness is supposed to reverberate in his ear? “Keep my name outta your mouth, or I swear,” He hisses at you, the grip on your wrists tightening as you whimper out in pain. 

“You think you can just toy with me? Have me running around and following your orders like a lil bitch!?” He sees you trembling, lips wobbly and in tears, how ironic, he doesn’t know a few words would get you to start tearing up, the change in demeanor from when he first met you confuses him for a second, but only a second, because he’ll be damned if he falls for any of your tricks anymore. “N-no, I swear it isn’t like that, just p-please, please c-calm down! Let me explain myself-” the ugly cackle he lets out shuts you up, teary eyes widening as they fall on his, the aura he’s radiating is terrifying to say the least, your knees shaking in dread at what’s about to fold.

“You think you can play my game and win?”

It takes you a minute to answer, the word no echoing in your head, throbbing in your brain so painfully you forget the words that follow it, but what you can’t forget, what you will never forget, no matter how delirious you feel, is the look of pure sin across Shinso’s face, grin rivaling that of the Cheshire cat, because you were now simply a measly little pawn in his game. 

Mindjack works in dingy jobs with filthy manipulative men in black markets and the human trafficking industry, criminals that broke every law in their way to get what they desire, so why couldn’t he indulge even a little himself? 

He lets go of your wrists, watching as your arms sway next to your body like dead weight before he turns around to flop down on the loveseat, legs spread wide as he waves his hand over to you.

“Waddaya waitin’ for,” he knows you can’t answer him, but it feels so fucking good to hold such power over you after all you’ve put him through. “Now, strip.” the surge of power he feels jolts his dick up in excitement as he watches you take off your lingerie, moves robotic and forced, eyes glazed over both with tears and his control over your dumb little brain. Hitoshi is no villain, he is a respectable hero, but he’s been called that all his childhood, he might as well live up to that expectation, one way or another.

Shinso stands when you’re fully naked in front of him, long legs circling you and taking you all in, the back of his hand grazes your nipple and he all but groans as it pebbles at his touch. But god, he was nowhere near being done with you.

“Spread your legs for me on that bed,” he grins at the way you follow his orders even before he asks, “will ya?” you settle yourself on the bed before slowly dropping your weight on your back, hazy eyes staring up into the ceiling as your arms bring themselves down to circle the back of your knees, pulling them up close to your chest to expose yourself to him. 

Shinso’s cock twitches in his pants again at the opportunity to just seath it into you without any warning, but he barely holds himself back, approaching your body and feeling himself salivating at the sight, what a sight it is, your pussy looking so fucking beautiful clenching over nothing, the sight tempting him to just dive his face right in to get a taste of your juices.

Taking off his suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of his shirt, Shinso presses his thumb to your clit, frowning when he notices how dry you are, of course you would be, he chuckles to no one, puckering his lip to spit right at the nub, watching it trail down to your clenching hole, the sight igniting a flame within him, he does it again, simply to watch your spit hide in your cunt, impatient to follow suit and bury himself in there. 

His thumb is quick to draw circles with your clit, needing for your orgasm to wash over you quickly, eager for the things he’d do to you after he preps you enough to take him. The usual comforting silence is thick between you, no moans escaping your ajar mouth as your arousal seeps out of your pussy, he prods your hole with his finger to collect your nectar, smearing it across your clit again to rub even faster against it.

The only indication of you coming undone is when your thighs start to shake, your body curling in on itself as your back arches, your cunt gushing on his fingers, and Shinso is almost disappointed to not hear you moan out his name in pleasure. But he isn’t that disheartened, he’s bound to hear you scream.

You on the other hand, are petrified at the way your body is being handled, feeling yourself looking down at the horror being folded in front of you, this isn’t you, this is a shell of who you are, wrapped around his finger, at his mercy, and you want out, no matter the cost. But, you are to regret these words, because you see him unbuckling his belt, you hear the zipper drilling in your ear, and you watch him lay atop you, feeling your lungs constrict at the weight settling upon it, and to your utmost terror, the only thing that breaks his bind on you is when you feel his warm head prodding at your entrance, right before seething completely in, your throat prickling when you wail hoarsely in pain at feeling like being split into two.

“No, nonononon, st-stop please, please!” You’re crying, legs thrashing and arms flailing trying to push this monster off of you, but you can’t, you think as your walls pulsate in pain at the intrusion, you’ll never be able to with him placing his entire weight on you like that, and the way he pulls out before impaling you again has you seeing stars in the worst way possible. Desperate for an escape, you grab a chuck of his hair, your nails digging into his scalp before you yank, your jaw throbbing at how tight you clench your teeth in pain and disgust and pure panic. The strength you muster to pull his head up is in vain, because it only jerks his face deeper into your neck, right where your scar trails, and he bites, so hard you’re certain it draws blood. 

Only then does he lift his head up, his upper lip smeared with a smidge of blood, your blood, before he spits right into your mouth. Sick to your stomach at the metallic taste invading your taste buds, you spit right up at him, mindless to the debris falling right back at your face, your mascara running down your cheeks as you sneer up at him. Even as he laughs teasingly at you.

“Don’t worry slut,” He rasps, his nose brushing against yours as his thrusts find a pace, pulling out to the tip before pushing himself fully inside, “It’ll feel good in a minute.” and it does, he feels more of your arousal coating his cock as he snaps his hips against yours, your wails and whimpers slowly yet surely are coated more with lust as you moan out his name. “See tha’, almost too easy…” almost too good to be true.

And it is, because when his eyes struggle to find yours, he is reminded by the feeling that overtook him this entire evening, and when he sees the corner of your lips pull lightly does he want to rip your head right out, but the minute he moves his hand, he is overwhelmed by how wobbly he feels, how your face distorts and misshapes before he is met with the sight of the ceiling, the sight you grew accustomed to when he was taking advantage of your unconsciousness. 

He groans when he feels you impaling yourself on his cock, pussy clenching so tight as you bop yourself up and down his shaft, your tits bouncing with you as he looks up at you, so mesmerized and entranced by your beauty all he does is hold your hips, helping you lift yourself up before dropping you on him, the squelching sound that follows it music to his ears.

You plant your hands against his chest, hips rolling as you pant at his lips, both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other and chasing your highs, “You gonna listen to me, when I ask you to?” His hand claps against your ass at your question, “Yes, yes oh God, anythin’ just don’t stop.” He can’t help but want more of you, want to feel his cock push against you even further, so he plants his feet firm against the bed, hand grabbing handfuls of your ass as he starts thrusting up at you, moaning against your neck when he shoots ropes of his cum inside of your sopping cunt, squeezing him so tight and milking him, and all of what Shinso remembers is the way you arch your back, pressing your chest against his as your whimper out his name, as he feels your juices dripping against his balls and down on the sheets beneath you. After that, all he could see was black.

Shinso awakes startled, eyes darting in alarm before he relaxes when he confirms he’s alone, the red silky sheets now draped over his lower body, pooling at his lap when he sits up to look around once more, desperate for any sign of you. Yet he only sees a brown folder on top of the love seat, impressively thick with the amount of papers stacked inside it, and when Shinso reaches for it, he catches the note that slipped off and draped down on the floor, reading it and scowling at it. ‘You promised you’d listen’

And boy is he more than lucky to listen to you when you asked him to. Because that folder has every tiny little detail he needs to know about The Wise, from the quirks of his circulating bodyguards to the keys to his multiple homes within the world. Pictures upon pictures of the man, decoded letters and basically intel on his entire criminal record.

Fucking finally, Shinso gets to just go home no that everything’s over and done with.

Limited Edition Sneak Peek:

It is way too early for Shinso, the sun glaring at him as he makes his way into the agency, the honking cars and chattering people feeding into his migraine so early in the morning, and he groans as he pushes his door open, ready to get back to his regular routine after the incident at Vice City.

It hasn’t been even a week, but it sure was eventful, using the folder you left him, Mindjack was able to capture The Wise the very next day, via the map of the routes he takes that was attached in the folder. They were able to ambush him, easily being able to bring the right heroes for the job to overcome the quirks of both his workers and himself. Now the mastermind of Organization XIII was behind bars, making the job of catching the remaining members now much easier.

It almost felt like child’s play, at least, that’s what the heroes made it out to be, flexing their powers and their potential, when they were well aware that all their efforts would’ve been in vain if you and your folder weren't there to aid them in every step.

To say that guilt ate him up is an understatement, he feels himself decaying from the inside out from resentment, he figures he spent too much time in the dark, that it started to mess with him, manipulate him, carve him into someone he isn’t, someone that isn’t fit to be a hero. He feels like was walking into a tunnel with no way out, engulfed and trapped in pure merciless darkness, that ate away at his soul every step he took further in.

Shinso trudges up the stairs with a heavy heart, the dread at what he did to you, especially that your intent to help him didn’t waver despite his actions loomed over him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt like he didn’t deserve the life that he’s living in right now. 

Yet, the saying ‘there's a light at the end of the tunnel’ rings in his ear, the minute he opens up the door to his office, eyes widening at the sight before him, smile so dazzlingly sweet, a voice just like silk, weaving around him and entrancing him as the words captivated him despite their simplicity.

“Missed me, Hitoshi?”

(1) its common in poker for women to be onlookers, like the wives of the players for example, the jab at him being an onlooker is basically just a sexist joke to make the people around the table laugh to ease their mind.

(2) to help gain more perspective about the poker scene you can read the elaboration here

Aaaand more about the reader’s quirk here!

Hope you enjoyed! Also, PLEASE if you could theorize with me after reading the fic I’d love you forever, ask me about the reader’s quirk, ask me about some hidden meanings between the scenes JUST ANYTHING. MWAH

Borrowers (taglist):

@hanji-is-life @anarchicmartyr @sleepykyan @yourprincess-maybe @wolfygirl1900 @tteokdoroki​

@theehoneybunii @nanamisbento​ (not sure if you wanted to be tagged for bakuhoe only of all my fics, so sorry if its the former!)

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

[fatefulfaerie]

Abnormality

Zelink Week 2021 prompt #6/7 @zelinkweek2021

Word Count: 2,225

Incarnation: Age of Calamity

Additional Prompts Followed: Timeline Alteration

“UTA” inspired by the “TVA” of the Disney+ series “Loki”

Trigger Warnings: abduction, brainwashing

Before Link knew it, he was being pushed along a dark hallway, hands tied and feet tripping on each other when he was pushed too abruptly.

“Faster.”

He could barely see, but long, blinking blue lights told him it was a narrow space, and his boots sounded as if they were walking on steel. He walked faster nonetheless. His own iron armor made even more of a ruckus.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked over his shoulder to the man who was pushing him. “What’s going on?”

He was in Hyrule Field last he remembered, returning to the castle after battling a Moblin. He saw an odd, egg-shaped robot and the next thing he knew he was pushed to the ground, landing in the steel trappings of wherever he was now. He was brought to his feet and pushed whenever his captor thought his pacing was too slow.

The man never answered. Link was blasted with light when a door opened as if automatically with the same noise as a sword slinking into a sheath. Link, who marvelled at such unprecedented technology, was pushed in before he could remark at it. The man behind him was gone when those same doors closed behind him.

Link looked behind him and there were no longer doors, just a wall. So he looked in front of him.

The room was clad with a silver material unlike stone. Angles jutted out at odd places and Link had never before seen architecture like this as he slowly paced forward towards the table.

Someone cleared their throat, a woman. Link’s head popped directly forward.

“Name?” She asked.

“What’s going on?”

“Name?” She repeated. It seemed Link found another person who would not humor his questions.

“Link,” he answered.

The receptionist seemed annoyed, eyes rolling to the back of her head and her eyelids fluttering. Link wondered what he did to upset her, but she scribbled something down on a piece of paper nonetheless.

“Birthdate?”

“August 16th,” Link replied. “But--”

“You have been charged with the crime of temporal misdemeanors,” she interrupted. “How do you plead?”

Link’s mouth moved but no sound came out.

“T-temp…” he tried, but failed. “What even is that? What did I do?”

“How do you plead?” She asked. There seemed to be no negotiation.

“G-guilty,” Link stammered. “I guess.”

She pointed her pen to the left, where there was now an opening, a doorless entrance.

“Step onto the platform for processing please.”

Link hesitated.

“Now,” she said without even looking up, and so Link did as he was asked, stepping onto the platform with oddly textured lines. With a jolt, it moved him along, Link’s arms drifting from his sides and knees bending as if bracing for danger. But before he could even get a sight of what was in this next room, his vision was clouded by white mist, a substance that shot a tingling feeling throughout his entire body until he couldn’t even feel his body. He was paralyzed completely and before he could fall, mechanized hands clutched his limbs, his arms, his legs. He felt his armor being stripped off but he didn’t have the control over his eyes to see who was doing it or where it was going, to object to showing this much skin and feeling this vulnerable in a strange place. Neither could he employ his vocal nodes to object to the last bit of clothing being removed until he was left only with a blue Sheikah-grade undergarment covering his most private area.

He could still see though, still tell he was being moved along into the futuristic building with no discernible connection to anything he had ever seen in Hyrule.

When he finally stopped, he stopped in front of a man behind a podium. Around Link were burn marks and the foul smell of burning flesh. His heart began to race.

“Link 816-D, you have been--”

But the echoey voice of doom was stopped when someone came racing through a now opened door, a woman in a blue dress with jagged and yet structured patterned white lines. The dress was far too tight and far too short for anything fashionable in Hyrule, but the dark-haired woman looked professional and put-together nonetheless. The fact that her dress almost exposed her knees was the least of Link’s concerns, it was just odd.

He definitely was not in Hyrule.

“He is to be questioned,” the woman said. Link couldn’t deny she was beautiful. He tried not to think about it. “Concerning the matter of the leading variant at large.”

“Very well.”

Link felt the greatest sense of relief when he was able to move again, permitted to step off the platform, and given garments to clothe himself in. They actually quite resembled the white and blue that everyone in this place wore, Link given white pants, a blue shirt, and a jacket that said “variant” on the back.

He stayed silent until the woman sat him down in a room, sitting across from him with a welcoming smile.

“Sorry about all that,” she said with her hands clasped into each other and her elbows on the table. “We don’t have the best reception here at the UTA. Let’s just say you are very lucky to be with me right now.”

Link didn’t quite know what to say.

“I-I’m sorry but…” Link stammered. “What is the UTA? Why...w-why am I here and...who are you?”

She pursed her lips.

“Somehow I always forget you guys come in here with no context,” she said, almost apologetically. “Allow me to explain. My name is Whitney and I am an employee of the UTA, which stands for the Unified Timeline Authority. We are in charge of making sure that the timeline is pure of contamination such as unauthorized time travel, timeline splits, and nexus events that cause timeline splits. We have worked long and hard to turn a chaotic and temporally lawless timeline of Hyrule into a unified and cohesive timeline. We work tirelessly to make sure the timeline stays straight, and doesn’t veer off from the set path.”

It sounded rehearsed to Link, but more than that, it sounded confusing. He got bits of it but he still stared, overwhelmed beyond belief.

“Okay, okay,” Whitney said, pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil. She started drawing a straight line on the page.

“Here is your timeline. You pull the sword at thirteen but you put it back, right? You didn’t tell anyone?”

Link nodded.

“Okay so time moves along and you age, as you know.”

She started drawing another line, exactly parallel to the first.

“Meanwhile, there is an alternate universe where you do keep the sword. Believe it or not, these both are heading towards the same destination until BAM!”

She stopped drawing the first line abruptly and let the second keep going straight. She continued the first with a line askew, making an angle.

“You encounter the little robot and everything changes. The destination is put in jeopardy at a rate we’ve never seen before. So we step in.”

“You have seen the robot so we took you. We also took the robot so he can do no further damage. We then go to where the robot came from in the first place and make sure he doesn’t come again. Thus, we have two robots. Both are now destroyed. Now I know what you’re thinking. Two robots but one of you, how does that fix it? Eliminating the second robot made it so that it never contaminated your timeline, and so there is now another Link that made it to the destination, the event where all alternate timelines become one. Thus you are the extra Link, a variant.”

She erased some of both lines and made it so that the two lines converged into one, drawing a dot at the exact place where they did and labeling it “the destination”.

“So I’m here because I saw the robot?”

“Not quite. You see, we could have wiped your memories or even wiped you but we took the opportunity to gain some…intel…about another variant.”

“Who?” Link asked.

“You,” she answered simply.

“What?”

She almost laughed.

From below the desk she pulled out a clipboard, the exact one that Link saw that first woman with. She handed it over to Link, who took it and knitted his brow at what he saw.

At least half of the names on each and every of the many pages were either Link, Zelda, or Ganon, each name accompanied by two to four numbers and a single capital letter.

In the middle of the last page was what the judge called him, Link 816-D.

“Yeah sorry about that,” she said. Of all the things she could apologize for, she sounded too casual to be apologizing for any of them, for kidnapping him, for stealing the armor he earned, for uprooting his life. “You are actually the fourth Link to come in with that birthday, thus Link 816-D.”

Link put the clipboard down slowly, and returned his gaze back to the diagram.

“The destination,” he said, before looking up. “What is it? Why is it so important that you can’t have it not happen?”

The destination is the singular moment where we were finally able to unify the timeline into one. We refer to it as the calamity.”

The word struck fear into Link’s heart.

“C-calamity…” he began, attempting to fight his shock at how cheery she said that word, how casually she referred to something that could kill thousands of people. “As in Calamity Ganon? Are you serious? You...y-you want that to happen? Do you realize what that means?”

Whitney nodded.

“It’s unfortunate,” she said. “But it was necessary that we let it happen. The near destruction of Hyrule was the only way to unify the parallel timelines. It isn’t the first time we took advantage of a disaster to slowly work towards unification. There used to be three separate timelines that were nowhere near parallel, mind you.”

Link went pale, cold. His eyes stung and his lungs paused. Not only did they permit the calamity but they let entire kingdoms be destroyed for their order.

For some reason Whitney assumed that Link was just as comfortable as her with the situation.

“The variant we are concerned with exists in the single timeline beyond the destination but the variant is trying to undo the calamity, and we need to know why. Activating that robot and sending him across parallel timelines was his first attempt. He is, of course, only a variant of you, but we feel that questioning you will lead to a bit of clarity as far as his motives. If you submit to questioning right here and now, we can offer you a job, you won’t have to worry about being destroyed or anything. I used to be a variant, too, you know. All of us were variants once. We’d love to have you join us.”

Link wondered how long this woman had been here for her words to sound so fake, so insincere, so rehearsed. Perhaps she was kidnapped as a child, perhaps she was raised by other people like her, who lost themselves gradually.

Thus Link most assuredly did not want the job, did not want to be a part of something that trades apocalypses for senseless organization, that trades lives for convenience.

The kingdom of Hyrule he once served not ten minutes ago was so much more…

It was...

Well he supposed they were no better, doing those same things, just on a smaller scale.

So he could either work for the UTA or be destroyed like the variants who did not comply. He could die for his morals or he could sacrifice them.

But perhaps there was a third option, one where he fought for his morals, destroyed the UTA from the inside.

“I’ll take the job,” he finally said, Whitney smiled. “But I have to ask...you said you were a variant...who were you?”

It didn’t seem like a question that was commonly asked, and she hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to answer, it was more like she genuinely forgot. Link narrowed his eyes.

“I was a variant of Princess Zelda,” she said. “I used to go by Hilda but when I got here they labeled me as Zelda 108-A. I was taken the moment Lorule got it’s own Triforce. Lorule was destroyed by the UTA, but...it was already a mess.” Whitney shrugged. “It was probably for the best.”

Her entire kingdom was destroyed and she showed so little empathy. Link could hardly believe it. She was so casual about it, like she was talking about what she had for lunch.

“A friend got taken alongside me but,” she laughed. “You know it’s funny I don’t remember their name.” She shrugged again. “Must not have been a very good friend. I’m sure you’ll be a better one.”

Link pitied that poor friend. He could very well have been her best friend, could have refused to comply and could have been erased from her memory so that she would comply, would slowly lose herself and become another drone of the UTA.

Link inwardly refused to resign to the same fate, to maybe, if possible, save her too.

“What is your first question for me?”

[glitterytidalwavedragon]

Expanding into my other Fandoms (I’m gonna have to take a stance) Read the whole thing please.

One of my oldest and most beloved anime is Inuyasha. As of late I have been binged watching the hell out of it as I am getting my BFF into different anime shows. We are really close to entering the Yashahime part of the series, and she asked if I planned to write fanfiction involving the one character which made me even watch the show as a 10-year-old.

Sesshomaru

The first episode I ever watched involved this aloof, entitled dog fighting his brother over the sword in their father’s grave. Specifically, it was part 3 of that whole episode series were Kagome pulled out the sword. I at the time had 3 dogs of German Sheppard/wolf hybrid, they were MASSIVE dogs, fell in love with the big white fluff that was Sesshomaru’s demon form. I use to sneak staying up and watch the show faithfully to see the goodest boy as it was only on at 11pm EST on adult swim. Which meant it was bad and I was breaking the rules, I felt like a rebel.

Now I hesitated answering that question. She has no idea of what is in Yashahime, she is being careful not to spoil it so I told her I didn’t know. Recently, to find out what the feel is for Sesshomaru content, I looked into the tag on tumblr…

OH MY GOD.

Sesshomaru’s tag is FLOODED with hate. Like every four post, there is hate, distain, and attacking happening. As someone who watches Yashahime, I quickly knew why.

Sessrin.

Even now I sigh. And I sigh HARD. I am not for, nor am I against the Sessrin train. Same for the Sesskagu train. I think both sides need to look at things on a logical prospective. I plan to do just that. I know I will get hate from the either side and maybe some support as well. But if I am going to do anything in this fandom (as I like doing ships and reader inserts) it will come up.

So, like my Kaiba post, and my Sebastian Heel post, I will use my research skills as well as my COLLEGE DEGREE WHICH HAS BOTH ART AND MEDIEVAL HISTORY labelled on it to explain why this progression in the story is normal to anti-Sessrin fans and why this isn’t a crime by story standards nor should we look at it as a crime.

AS WELL

Explain to Sessrin fans why it is so weird for non-shippers to see it play out and why so much hate formed.

As I let out another sigh, we shall begin. Let’s start at an historical prospective. (Links at the bottom).

PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING! I’LL BE ABLE TO TELL!

~~

I will start with the information I can access right away.

While finding charts on the life-span of common folk in 1590’s Feudal Japan is rather difficult, Ancient.edu states that the average lifespan was about 50. To put this in perspective, the average lifespan of Europeans at the time was somewhere between 40-45 with the latter being rare. Since most of us reading are not from Japanese descent, I will through Europe in this first.

If we look at the same time frame of 1590, we are looking at most of Western Europe had now entered the age of Renaissance. According to sources from Learning Resources in association with the National Gallery of Art, marriage was not what TV drama’s from HBO or Hulu depicted. By today standards they would be a crime, as the average age for marriage of an adult female was age 14…

The reasoning behind the young marriage age had multiple factors. First being, females were considered an adult once they were menstruating. Birthing also proved to be fatal, and since the lifespan was at best 40 and 45 if they were lucky, there was really no room to wait. Also Europe at the time had became hugely focused on making sure blood lines were legitimate, meaning to ensure the girl was a virgin, the moment she was able to reproduced she was married off. Those they married were not young teenagers either. Most marriages, a man would be in their thirties, and had probably multiple wives as women died more than men when not counting the battle field.

To make matters worse for the Renaissance Lady, these marriages would leave many young males unable to marry and if their husband died in battle, well, unfortunately they were not seen as desirable. This was due to the idea of a ‘free woman’. Should the girl not have a father, brother or uncle to return to as they too died, a widow had her freedom. But that freedom came at a cost. She would be assumed to have slept around, and in many writings, such as the Canterbury Tales, where Geoffrey Chaucer writes about a Window on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land survived her five husbands and the men in her family. In short, she was made to be a slut and to be looked down upon as no man controlled her.

The point of talking about Europe is because that is something most of us Non-Asian or Japanese people consume and like to paint in large romantic brush strokes of knights and magic. Honestly, reading G.R.R.Martin Song of Ice and Fire, he uses this model as we see the Queen of Dragons, Danny start off at age thirteen shortly after she had her first menstruation.  

Now let’s look at Feudal Japan.

As stated before, the lifespan was around 50 years. In some populations, this was even shorter. Nagaoka, Hirata, Yokota and Matsu’ura’s on demographic data at the Yuigahama-minami area in Kamakura, Japan and found both male and female remains that suggested life expectancy to have ended around age 24-25. This was largely due to living conditions and public health. In areas like these, it would make the most sense to marry and repopulate quickly as the expectancy of life was half the national average at the time.

To my frustration, I could not find a clear marriage age for Japanese women at the time of the edo period. HOWEVER, where there is a will there is a way. I took a look at famous Lords or Daimyo’s of the time. The average age of marriage of their wives was between 12-14. Much younger than I expected, but it made sense considering this is a time where war ran the show and marriage was strictly about political gain. One of these Daimyo’s was Masamune Date, who was also 13, but then as he got older took concubines who became considerably younger than him as he became older. The goal was to have as many children as possible for hires and for political marriages to gain power.

Now lets look at Inuyasha the MANGA

Lets get the manga timeline proper here. The whole adventure took place in 11 months, a month shy of Kagome’s 16th birthday. Doing a few estimations, Rin would have travelled with Sesshomaru about 8-9 of those months. But before we get into the relationship, lets look at something the ANIME made a huge mistake with in the beginning and tried to fix as the story went on.

For some reason I could only fine gifs for the Early appearances of Sesshomaru so bear with me.

Early appearances in the manga

 ^ He was so fickle and a trickster then...

Now early apperances in the anime.

Later appearance in the manga

Laster appearance in the anime

Notice the issue here? 

Sesshomaru was CONSIDERABLY younger looking in the start of the manga. In the anime, he started off looking like an fully adult male. But as the anime went on, they tried to make Sesshomaru look younger with subtle changes to his jaw line, eye size, and his height. Yeah, his height had changed. They made him shorter.

While in the manga, we see this young-teen looking demon, slowly mature over 11 months to look like he is in his later teens and by series end, closer to being in his late teens or twenty. Yes, art changes over time, but the anime went a reverse route. I can only guess they spoke to the author of Inuyasha about her ships, as they did Drama CDs, and realized the mistake that was made in making him more mature than he was.

You can’t tell me he doesn’t look closer to his manga self in the final act, because he does.

Since we are on the topic of the anime, lets be clear. The anime timeline and manga timeline are very different. The story in the anime (in the English) suggests that OVER a year has past since Kagome started her journey. They try to fix this in the final act, but it was still so muddled as previous seasons are to be taken as cannon. This could have been due to an translation error in the early production when the anime no longer had anymore manga material to reference. But whatever the case, for English viewers the time the group spent together felt much longer.

So now we come to the heart of the issue.

Because of the mistakes of the anime, a lot of anti-sessrin see the relationship as father daughter. I’ll be honest, watching the anime and solely the anime as a teenager and as an adult (as the manga was on hold for a very long time due to author’s health. I was in college when it finished.), I too thought it was just a father-daughter relationship and Jaken the nanny who got punched all the time. In fact, the English took hard liberties with Kagura, as the English dubs often do with characters, and made it very clear her feelings for the demon lord and Sesshomaru very much recognized them (though he never responded). Even in her death scene, it felt as if he was saying good bye to a friend more than love interest. But who really knows, as there are things that point otherwise.  When another demon mock’s Kagura’s death, Sesshomaru gets super pissy.

The manga did also play with this fact when it came out in English, idk if the wording or message is different in the Japanese. Translation errors happen a lot even in todays releases, look at Kuroshitsuji.  So of course most anti-sessrin’s did not see this coming in Yashahime when Rin was named mother. In fact it felt like a betrayal as we were sure Sesshomaru had no romantic feelings.

Then there was the Kohaku/Rin mashup that was hinted left and right. The English anime, with its overly dramatic and blunt emotions made it appear one way. That in the end the two kids would probably be married. Then the anime as a whole made Sesshomaru older than intended. I can see why and understand how this became a problem.

On the other side of that coin.

If you followed the dub, seen ‘Swords of an Honorable Ruler’ and read the manga… Sesshomaru was not fatherly to Rin at all. In fact, Jaken picked up all of that leg work. Rin worried for Kohaku, but clearly loved Lord Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru cared about Kagura but he almost CRIED when he lost Rin.

We have to remember that Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship must have been very hard for the demon. While we never see his mental process expect for a few rare times, we have to remember he hated humans. In the movie, he blamed a human for the early death of his father, Sesshomaru killed without mercy. It made sense that he wouldn’t be fatherly to Rin as her just being there should have caused countless inner conflicts. Hell, he even says his father’s weakness was humans, and look who picked up that trait.

Sesshomaru was designed to, someday, walk in his father’s footsteps. So sess/rin, not a surprise. Also when you see it in a historical perspective, Rin having kids around age 15-16, makes sense. In fact you could argue he waited too long for the time period.

We also need to look more at the manga when concerned with Yashahime. 8-9 months is all Rin travelled with him and he was like hold up, and left her at the village because he KNEW she needed to come to her own conclusion. That no matter what she picked he would live with and protect her. Unconditional love on his end. She cannon wise spent YEARS living with humans and MONTHS with Sesshomaru. Again, by manga standards of cannon.

Now I can already hear the screaming about age and what not. Some sources say Sesshomaru is over 900, by the rule of thumb, if we look at anime and movie releases, we have Sesshomaru being over 500 with no define age and Inuyasha around 270 years old being more pinpointed due to the movie. Just by going by ANIME CANNON. Kagome and Inuyasha, you have a 15 year old with a 270 year old man. If you say being pinned to the tree doesn’t count, then you have 220.

Also, here is something very interesting. In the episode where Inuyasha meets the unmother, he tells her, thinking it was his mom, she died when he was very small and we have flash backs later in the series of him being small running from demons. Demons clearly age much slower than humans, even half-demons. Inuyasha can be 270 but mentally and physically be 15, the same logic works for Sesshomaru, who in the manga is not much older than Inuyasha.

In the manga, there wasn’t any grooming, in the anime, there was a ton of mess-ups but no grooming.

Would this fly in todays world? HELL NO! NO, its gross, she’s a kid. Stop.

I know any fanfic I write will lean heavily on the side of father/daughter because that is what I grew up seeing on the screen. I can’t think of Rin as an adult because years of seeing her as a cheerful little girl. It’s like seeing G.O.T Arya about to have sex for the first time in season 8… I remember when she was a kid on the show. It was way to weird and I had to look away until it ended. But that’s my 2021 mentality.

But Inuyasha is not taking place in 2021. Feudal Japan is a whole other era with its own beliefs, morals and way of life. Those who understand this have nothing wrong with them. They just understand history.

Also, just to bang some nails in…

Anyone remember Bleach? Remember the MOST accepted couple was Ichigo and Rukia…. Rukia who was hundreds of years old and Ichigo who was 15… or Ichigo’s mom who was a teenager and his dad also hundreds of years old.

Most of this also boils down to Sesshomaru being a dude. As in reverse roles in animes its accepted and they don’t have the same historical context. Inuyasha is based off of historical context of Feudal Japan.

We need to stop spreading hate. We can’t accept some forms of literature because its European fantasy but bash other fantasy based literature for doing the same thing.

Sure, its weird for those who were use to seeing the father/daughter dynamic. Yes, there are extreme sessrin fans who post really questionable illegal content when they decide to leave Rin as an 8-year-old…

But this wasn’t ever meant to be perverted. The story was meant to make sense on a logical and historical base.

I hope everyone takes the time to read this. I love Inuyasha, I love Sesshomaru. I am just sick of seeing so many people fighting over what should be the revival of a beloved series. While yes, there is still room for sess/rin not being a thing, until it is stated otherwise, why hate each other? This fandom will only lose people by doing this. Calling people names or accusing them of illegal endorsement can hurt someone these days over social media.

Tumblr allows you to block tags. You don’t have to read anything or watch anything you don’t like. We gain nothing from attacking each other but can lose so much by doing so. Fanart, really good fan fiction, friends, ideas, sharing fond memories. Both sides have the right to feel as they feel, but no right in hurting each other.

A fandom is meant to bring people together. Not start a war…

Thank you.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ajpa.20402

http://www.italianrenaissanceresources.com/units/unit-2/essays/husbands-and-wives/#:~:text=Marriage%20not%20only%20reflected%20order,to%20ensure%20the%20bride's%20virginity.

https://www.ancient.eu/Canterbury_Tales/

https://www.ancient.eu/article/1424/daily-life-in-medieval-japan/#:~:text=Just%20as%20Japanese%20people%20today,in%20Western%20Europe%2C%20for%20example.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_Masamune

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megohime

[redrosesartcabin]

Self indulgent series: Part 2.1

Life: Part 1

(Kenji x female reader, authors perspective) (the reader is a singer) (also: Some angst in here. I dunno why, but I just love writing some angst with fluff endings xD)

“So, let me get this straight”, the interviewer said, bewildered by the story the singer and songwriter Red Rose had brought up, “you met your now husband, Kenji Kon no less, on Jurassic World as one of the kids who got stranded for five months?”

“That’s correct”, she said. She had answered that very question a million times, but she couldn’t fault them for it: It was an unbelievable story (though she started to wonder how not everyone was aware by now that she was one of the teens back than).

“It was in December of 2015. I was thirteen years old and exited to be one of the first teens to visit Camp Cretaceous. I have to admit, I wasn’t and still am not, maybe even less than before, the biggest fan of dinosaurs. I’m not particularly interested in facts about them, but I definitely was interested in seeing some Dino action! So when I won first place at the talent show of my school-“

“Unsurprisingly”, the interviewer interluded at which the audience gave a collective chuckle.

“-I was still very excited about going to Jurassic World. My parents never wanted to go and in retrospect I can understand why. But you know: I was a naïve thirteen-year-old and didn’t think much about the consequences of the past. What happened at Jurassic Park you know? I was convinced Jurassic World was different and all worked out. Boy was I wrong! We all know it now! But at least I can say that I got, besides trauma, lifelong friends and my amazing husband out of it”

“That definitely can’t be disputed”, the interviewer agreed. Red Rose found him quite pleasant. Although he was a chatterbox, he was still very respectful and didn’t poke too much into the Jurassic World story: Although she was, for the most part, over the trauma, it was still a work in progress and it’s not a time she always remembers fondly. On most days she remembers the good moments she had with her newfound friends there, but sometimes she could feel the adrenaline rush through her as she thought of dinosaurs trying to eat her and her fellow campers. She saw flashes of sharp teeth and could feel hot, stinking breath and hear growls drawing shivers down her spine.  Red Rose liked to focus on the human part of the experience, so she preferred being able to tell the tale of Jurassic World the way she wanted without being asked too much…

 “So, Kon helped you reach fame if I remember correctly?”, he asked.

“Definitely! Though, I mean: I was able to do most of what I’m doing. Teaching myself how to use certain programs. I taught myself how to sing and I’ve always written my own stuff…But I certainly wasn’t good at marketing myself or making myself grow.

Kenji and I became boyfriend and girlfriend when I was sixteen and he was eighteen. That same year we went on vacations for three weeks in the Caribbean’s. And “, she let out a laugh. The camera closed up on her and caught a smile and a glance that looked so touched by love anyone could feel how much she adored her spouse, “I remember how we went on the private part of the beach Kenjis father had purchased. I sat down on a hammock and a guitar and just started improvising and singing. Little did I know my boyfriend -gosh that sounds weird to say now- was filming me. He put it up on Instagram, and he already had quite a following back then, so it gained quite some attention. Though not necessarily because it was a nice scenery or any of that: But because people genuinely liked how I sing and the melody I had come up with. And well… it got wild from there. People soon requested I make my own Instagram page for making music.

A year later I was asked if I would like to produce some music and well… then my career started”

“That’s honestly such a cool and sweet story. Though how about an even sweeter reunion? Please welcome: Kenji Kon”

Red Rose got up from her seat with a wild jump, not as the eccentric, elegant yet kind of crazy minded artist, but as y/n Kon. As the wife who hadn’t seen her husband in person for a month because of the production of yet another movie starring him as the protagonist.

The crowd clapped in awe of him, as fans. She wanted to clap because her heart was clapping too. Her heart was dancing a tango inside of chest as though she was seeing her middle school crush in the hallway. His dark eyes, ridden with depth met her y/e.c. ones and all they could read in each other’s eyes was happiness and love.

This happened within miliseconds, but it passed by in slow motion for her, so she perceived herself running towards him with calm. For the rest of the world however she was perceived as looking like a golden retriever who had missed his owner whilst they were at work and were ready to play.

It was adorable. It was downright touching how the couple met each other halfway and gave each other a long, passionate yet gentle kiss (so that it wouldn’t be too inappropriate for life TV).

“Not to be giddy, but you really are a couple to die for”, the interviewer said. The audience half chuckled half yelled in agreement. She felt her cheeks blush in a deep dark shade of red and heard her husband chuckle in embarrassment. She looked down to her and whispered “Hello love”

 Kenji had, unsurprisingly, had found joy in being actor. Being dramatic and showing his face on camera all the time? Perfect!

And he honest to god was a great actor. Though it did get annoying from time to time that he was casted as either the pretty faced villain or the charming, perfect love interest. Sometimes he was even both.

Y/n didn’t like to admit it, but she was quite jealous at the beginning when she saw him kiss other men and women on screen. It took a big fight for her to admit that.

She wasn’t proud of that fight at all. She had been, without wanting to, been very critical of her then fiancé (it was about six months before they got married). She would call him several times a day when he was on set of a particularly spicy rom com and observe his socials every couple of minutes. Y/n remembers her friends teasing her about it in the beginning and then eventually scold her. “Don’t you trust him?”, they had asked and she had answered, “I do….”, and they knew she was telling the truth, yet there was more behind it.

Kenji soon caught up and noticed her strange clinginess.

“What is up with you, Y/N? You know I have work to do! You can’t call me that often on set!”, he had yelled when the topic came up. He had been visiting for the weekend before he would go back on set.

“Why not? Can a girl not talk to her fiancé?”, she had asked with a sharp undertone

“Of course, you can darling. But twenty times a day is simply too much!”, he argued, yet he tried keeping his tone softer.

“I don’t call that often”, she pouted

“Oh YES you do!”, he put his phone out and showed her the times she had called just the other day. She counted about thirty, “I was nice with that number!”

“And? So what? You can just put your phone on silent”

“Yes, of course I can. This isn’t about solving the notification issue it’s about solving your trust issues towards me. Why don’t you trust me?”, as he asked the question his anger had subsided and genuine hurt showed in his eyes in his voice, “you monitor me like I’m an inmate”

“I…”, she was only able to say, her throat suddenly seemed dry, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I…”, she couldn’t find the right words to explain it. It hurt too much to admit. She thought she had been over that thought pattern a long time ago, but it had returned to her.

“What? What have I done to deserve this?”, he asked, “Why are you even with me, if who I am disturbs you so much?”

And that… that sentence had hurt her more than that ugly thing inside of her she hadn’t wanted to face.

“You fool!”, she screamed in fury as the sentence he had uttered stung, her eyes filling with endless tears, “How could you ever think you disturb me? You are the most beautiful, wonderful human being I know, inside and out. And on top of that you are incredibly kindhearted. And that’s why I’m like this… I don’t want to lose you. And it’s not that I don’t trust you: I highly doubt you’d ever cheat on anyone. You are too kind for that. But I fear… I feared when you are together with all these good-looking actors you might not find me enough anymore. I know it’s stupid, but you see: The past haunted me again. When I was called fat. When I was called not-good-enough. When I read social media comments saying you’re out of my league and I don’t deserve you. Ugly words that ate me up inside when I was a child and young teen. I thought I was past that but I…I…”, now the tears were too many and her words died with hiccups. She felt his form surround her in a hug that felt so warm and yet sharp as knifes. She loved his touch but felt guilty for not opening up about this sooner. She had never wanted to be like this, but alas she had been too much of a coward to burden him or herself with this.

“Love”, he whispered after comforting her for a couple of minutes, “Look at me”

She lifted her head. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips were dark pink, and tears had run streaks across her cheeks. It broke Kenji to have hurt her so deeply, yet he also knew that it wasn’t his fault. It was however his responsibility, to clear this up once and for all.

“Love listen”, he started, “I completely understand your jealousy. But we’ve been together for almost ten years and in all that time, I’ve never encountered a woman more incredible, deeply fascinating and intrinsically beautiful as you. No acted kiss could bring me away from you, no sexy actor could keep my mind from ever wishing for more than to be by your side. I’ve been by your side for almost six years: What should change now?

The monster from your past is, as already stated: Past. Their words were untrue. These people were in pain themselves when they caused you pain. You were a target to unleash the inner turmoil of others. It’s no excuse but it is the explanation. Those who feel they must hurt others are those who seek the most attention and power because they’d be devoid of having a self. I should know: I used to be similar to that. And I had my phase of jealousy as well, you know?”

“Really?”, y/n managed to ask

“Oh yes! I was in rage every time I heard you talk about any of your guy friends back in high school. Difference is I could hide it better because we were apart a lot of the time. I feared you would find someone who had more of a personality than me. I was no longer sure looks would cut it”

“Gosh love”, she answered, her voice love drunken, “you burst of personality. You aren’t just a pretty boy or well… pretty man. You have so much spirit and energy to give to the world. You are the definition of happiness and sunshine. And on top of that you are an incredibly talented man with so much to show. You wield the human mind and emotions so well you can convert yourself to be something other than yourself convincingly-”

“See?”, he asked, “and just like you love me like that and see all that good I sometimes don’t recognize, I see it in you… I always love you”

“I love you too. I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m so happy we had this talk. It was much needed”

“Yeah”, she hummed as her lips almost touched his and within seconds the couple found themselves passionately kissing

Ever since then they hadn’t had any of these kinds of self-worth problems. They’d say I love you on a daily basis and gave each other compliments whenever they could.

One thing the fans found especially cute was that, without fail, Red Rose would comment on each of Kenji’s selfies and comment “hey gorgeous, you single?” and he’d answer every single time, “Sure Sugar. Meet me at seven on your favorite street-corner”

One time they took a picture of each other on a nice-looking street corner. Kenji had called the picture “finally found the street corner. Been waiting to meet this lady for a while, apparently her name is ‘your wife’, which is peculiar but otherwise she seems nice”.

The picture even went viral and became one of the all-time favorite celebrity pictures of 2026.

  After the talk-show they flew back in his helicopter.

They were in New York city and y/n looked at the city landscape with a fascinated gaze as she observed the flickering lights of the big apple.

Kenji looked at her with eyes shining almost as bright. He loved her love for everything new she sees. He had noticed that the first time she had seen the watering hole. He wasn’t really interested in her that way yet. He was fifteen and she thirteen, that makes quite a difference at this age. But still he couldn’t but smile as she looked at the dinosaurs with big eyes. And he loved that she hadn’t lost that spark, even as she got older, even as they came together and grew and changed together.

Y/n noticed his gaze and shifted hers to look at him.

‘What a beautiful man. I’ve missed him so’ she thought to herself.

“I missed you”, he said as though he had read her mind just now. Maybe he had. They had been together for so long they were often able to read each other’s subtle shifts in expression. Quite a beautiful thing.

“I missed you too”, she simply answered, “did you plan this talk show surprise?”

“Yes and no”, he admitted, “I was meeting up with Donavan O’Connor, the director of the ‘Elaine, the one?’ series. When calling Donavan, he told me had been to talking to Ray (the interviewer) and he was casually pointing out the funny coincidence you were meeting up for and mention the funny coincidence, that you’d have an interview with him that same day I come to the city and well… needless to say I called Ray and arranged things... I just had to. Couldn’t miss the opportunity to surprise my beautiful wife”

She smiled at that. A shy and flattered smile that reminded Kenji of when they were teens.

 They landed on the roof of a nice-looking hotel. They had decided to stay the night here in New York before travelling back to Ireland… yes: Yes Ireland.

Most celebrities lived in L.A., but Kenji and y/n had preferred living a bit apart in an old mansion near the coast of south Ireland, close to the northern border. Although Kenji was a people person, he didn’t like the dishonesty and lying in the industry and wanted to get away from that with his wife who thought the same.

Besides: It was a beautiful country.

As they entered the room, they felt peace and happiness as well as a certain kind of tension arise.

Needless to say, there was another kind of reuinion going on that night...

(Sorry about that short ending, I had to heavily edit that ‘cause it originally was a... well... non Pg scene xD)

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, angst, fantasy

author’s note: why am i writing sm abt yeosang, this is supposed to be a seongjoongyn fic lmao; anygays, yeosang said polyamory rights

warnings: hongjoong suffers. a lot. but will make up for it later, i promise; insecurities; jealousy; blood only mentioned like once; possessiveness

word count: 1.5k (a bit shorter than usual cuz uni is a bitch and i have zero free time but wanted to update)

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter five  ☠️ chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight  ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

You swam towards the surface together with your sister Soojin. She had finally talked you into meeting up with those pirates once again. You didn’t what to admit it to her, but you were pretty excited. You were curious to find out more about them. Even though they were humans. Or maybe because of that. 

Every braincell in your mermaid body was telling you to swim away from this situation and never look back. But your foolish heart was swimming further, deeper into danger.

“There’s the ship!” Soojin screamed eagerly, pointing in the distance.

“You’re right,” you responded flatly, somewhat awestruck by the way it looked at twilight. The pink sky was painting its sails like magic. As the yellow sun was setting into the sea, you could only think one thing: you had never seen such beauty before in your life. And it scared you that you were already so attached to this new world.

“Come on,” Soojin urged you, swimming way ahead of you.

Your tail had a mind of its own as you followed her, not even bothering to object. You were in too deep. Which was ironic, considering you were swimming across the sea surface, its true depths long forgotten.

“Yeosang!” Soojin sang the boy’s name and started knocking onto the wooden ship. “Come out, you punk! I travelled a long way just to see you.”

Soon enough, the blonde pirate you’d briefly noticed earlier showed up.

“Soojin!” he beamed happily and jumped into the water without thinking twice. “I missed you.”

“Me too, silly,” Soojin stroked his hair sweetly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. You felt as if you were intruding by witnessing their blossoming relationship, so you looked away from them awkwardly.

“You keeping the ring I gave you safe?” Yeosang asked your sister.

“Of course. You trust me?”

Yeosang nodded.

“Even though I only just met you.”

Soojin smiled and buried her head into his chest. You were looking away but something made you curiously sneak a peak or two at them every once in a while. Yeosang’s attention was suddenly on you.

“Did you come to see Seonghwa?” he inquired.

“N-no,” you quickly responded. “I just came to make sure you delinquents wouldn’t hurt my Soojin or something.”

Yeosang scoffed loudly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You groaned in annoyance.

“You want me to call Seonghwa? I’m sure he’d be delighted to talk to you again.”

“If it’s not too much trouble…” you answered ambiguously.

“Be right back,” Yeosang promised and started climbing in an experienced manner back onto the ship.

“Hey, don’t leave me!” Soojin complained.

“Will return in the blink of an eye, love.”

“You better!” Soojin threatened vaguely. “Or else!”

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I spoke honestly to Y/N.

“You and me both,” she replied coldly.

“You didn’t want to see me again?” I asked her in a sad voice.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Soojin dragged me here.”

“Purely against your will?” I suggested.

“Well…I suppose a small part of me was curious…”

“About?”

“You could have just thanked me and that’s it. End of story. You didn’t have to go out of your way to show me all these delicious fruits and spend all this time around me. So…why did you do it?”

“I suppose I was curious, too.”

“About?” Y/N repeated, mocking my voice.

I rolled my eyes.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” I responded cleverly, hoping she would fall for the trick and really choose to stay.

“Does it have to be that difficult?” she wanted to know.

“What’s difficult about it? You’re a mermaid and can swim whenever and wherever you want to. I’m a pirate and our ship can go anywhere at any time. It’s a perfect match, don’t you think?”

Y/N shook her head, apparently disagreeing with me.

“You know why I can’t,” she said, her voice strained with pain.

Like I needed a reminder of the woman I’d loved and lost. But maybe, destiny was giving me another choice. To make things right. If not…why had fate decided to send Y/N my way? Could it be a mere coincidence? I didn’t know but I wanted to fight for her.

“How about this…you don’t have to make any promises to stay. But if you’re ever bored, you can swim around the ship and say my name. I’ll answer to your call.”

“What’s with you?” the mermaid chuckled. “Seonghwa.”

“You remembered,” I whispered fondly, suddenly recalling our conversation on the boat.

“I might be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” Y/N joked. “So…will your boyfriend scold you for hanging out with me?”

“How did you figure it out?” I asked.

“Oh, please. Last time he was reeking of jealousy.”

“You can smell that shit?”

Y/N laughed.

“What, you thought having a tail was the only perk about being a mermaid?”

“You’re extraordinary,” I panted, suppressing the urge to bring my face closer to hers. This was wrong.

“I so am,” she smirked confidently. “But seriously, we shouldn’t anger him. You said he was the captain, right? Doesn’t that give him…I don’t know, more power over you?”

I shrugged.

“No one holds power over me.”

“Not even your own heart?” Y/N teased and placed her hand on my chest. This was so wrong, I kept telling myself. Hongjoong could see us any minute if he decided to go out of his cabin.

“N-no,” I stammered unconvincingly, as she approached me like a snake, spreading her poison slowly into my blood.

“Liar,” Y/N whispered and I could feel my heart beating faster.

Then, she pulled away as quickly as she’d gotten closer.

“See, that’s why I don’t want anything to do with you humans. Even the slightest word or movement could make you so weak. It’s pathetic, really. Don’t you think?”

“It’s better than being cold. Or not having a heart.”

She was obviously struggling to keep up the charade of not feeling anything. I could see her swallowing on nothing but air as she was trying to figure out what to say or do next. Like it was a game of chess.

“Fish are cold. I’m part-fish, remember?”

“You’re also part-human, remember?” I shot back wittily. “Since you claim to dislike us so much, you might as well reconsider…aren���t you a bit like me?”

“I’m nothing like you,” Y/N spat out, denying her humanity. “The sooner you realize this, the better.”

“Yes, you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be terrified of getting hurt.”

“It’s called self-preservation, you idiot!”

“No. It’s called being human.”

She sighed exasperatedly.

“I’m tired of all this arguing. Let’s just stay here in silence. Please?”

I nodded, finding that silence felt somewhat comforting when I was in her presence. The sun had already set and the moon was shining brightly upon us. Despite the celestial body’s beauty, I could only focus on her. Her face seemed serene but the rest of her was tense. I hesitantly placed my hand on her back. She slightly jumped up in surprise but soon enough, relaxed under my touch. I simply looked at her calmly and expected her to do the same. Maybe this was wrong. But I couldn’t give her up.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

I followed him outside. Quietly. Making myself invisible. It’s what he would have wanted, no? For me not to witness this. Well, what I wanted was make him believe that I hadn’t. But I heard every word. Felt every touch as if it were a dagger in my back. Saw every hidden glance. Even in the dark. Smelt the sea as the wind blew on and on. Tasted the salt on my tongue and the blood as I was biting down on my cheeks to stop myself from screaming. Maybe she was right. I was reeking of jealousy. But I had every right, didn’t I? He had promised something. And even though he hadn’t exactly left, why did it feel like his heart already belonged to someone else? Why did I feel the betrayal shattering my bones like stones being thrown my way? Why was he looking at her like that? I kept repeating to myself that he hadn’t abandoned me, not really. But why did it feel like he had?

My painful thoughts were interrupted by a light touch on my arm. I swiftly turned around, grabbing the hand that had dared approach me. It was Yeosang. I released my hold on him.

“Hyung…don’t torture yourself,” he spoke softly.

“Leave me alone, Yeosang. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“He would never leave you. You know that, right?”

“What does it look like to you, hm?” I questioned him angrily, barely managing to keep my voice down so that Seonghwa and Y/N wouldn’t find out I was eavesdropping.

“There are people who take more than one significant other, you know? That doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

I closed my eyes, because I was afraid he’d see I’d been crying.

“I can’t share him with anyone. It would kill me.”

“But, hyung, can’t you tell he would do anything for you?” Yeosang insisted. “If you told him to let her go, he would. But is that the kind of boyfriend you’d like to be? You could find a solution. One that makes you both happy.”

“Just drop it, Yeosang. I can’t even consider this right now.”

Yeosang nodded and left. I could tell this wasn’t the end of this conversation. It was only the beginning.

To be continued…

[marinerofthestars]

the zodai tag

bit of a late arrival to this fandom, but better late than never, i suppose!

1. How did you hear about the books? about a year ago, i was doing research on the zodiac for an urban fantasy project i’m working on, tales from omphalos, when i found the house ophiuchus info page on the zodiac website. unfortunately life got in the way and i forgot the series for a while, but a little while ago i remembered zodiac’s worldbuilding and got sucked right back in!

2. What is your favorite moment from the series so far? it’s hard to choose just one moment, but i’d have to say skarlet and rho’s first meeting in black moon for how atypical it is. we know skarlet is the hypotenuse in rho and hysan’s love triangle, but she doesn’t act like the stereotypical petty Other Woman at all. she’s charismatic, she’s genuinely fun to be around, and she has sympathetic motives and ambitions. above all, she’s actually super nice towards rho, and doesn’t let her feelings get in the way of their political collaboration. (and then thirteen rising assassinated her character. yes i am still bitter about it why do you ask)

3. Which House are you from? house leo!

4. What do you like about your House? artistry pride is something i’d really love to be a part of as an aspiring author, i have blaze and trax (both criminally underrated characters imo) as my housemates, and our zodai wield FLAMING SWORDS in battle. what’s not to love?

5. If you had to change Houses, which House would you pick? since leo really vibes with my passion for art, this is definitely a tricky question! probably either libra (police brutality is a thing of the past with bind, and their government seems like they have their act together), scorpio (much waterworld. much ambition. much cool tech. wow), or sagittarius (diversity, democracies where the voices of the young and non-complacent can be heard, and really vibrant cities are all things i appreciate)

6. Which system would you most like to visit? capricorn, no question. the zodiax is THE single most location in the entire zodiac bar none to me - an ancient complex the size of a planet, its oldest curators having access to transportation systems most inhabitants don’t even know about? an archive of humanity’s collective knowledge, so massive it has hotels and restaurants within it because leaving to sleep or eat is just so impractical? LET ME TOUR IT. LET ME UNCOVER ITS MYSTERIES I KNOW THEY EXIST (i think history is rad okay)

7. If you got to choose, which Zodiac technology would you like to have? probably...the tattoo? i don’t have anywhere enough knowledge about neuroscience/engineering to design my own, but assuming that i did, i’d love to design a tattoo that can interface with my brain and with digital art software, so that i can turn whatever ideas i have in my head into artwork!

8. Which character would you want as a best friend? skarlet. she’s six feet tall, buff as all hell, super attractive, prefers diplomacy to violence but still perfectly capable of kicking ass, and an outspoken risers’ rights activist. what’s not to love? (though knowing the type of people i usually hang out with, i’d probably end up with like. twain or gyzer as my best friend. one can dream though)

9. Which sign would you like to date? aries, because as previously stated skarlet is awesome. (a sentiment i will continue to reiterate) failing that, either libra for their sense of justice, scorpio for their ambition and passion, or aquarius for their innovative mindset.

10. Who do you hope Rho “ends up with?” (If anyone at all!) firstly, thank you for acknowledging that rho might not be interested in romance after everything she’s been through. (aromantic rho? arho?) secondly: skarlet.

this might be a little controversial, but i feel like in some regards, rho has far more chemistry with skarlet than she has with hysan. (ms. russell. i am sorry but. i have. Issues. with ‘centaur smile’ and the context surrounding it doesn’t make it any better) all of their interactions are marked by a noted admiration on rho’s part, and it’s not just merely admiration of her frankly enviable body (there’s more than enough of that, but it feels respectful somehow, there’s no five-page purple prosey ramblings on how the sweat glints on skar’s brow as she lifts weights, unlike with some people - sorry, mathias), but admiration of skar’s personality.

her charisma. her ambitions. her drive to fight for people who’ve been beaten down for millennia, to give a voice to the voiceless. to use violence as a last resort, not a first strike.

even at their absolute worst in thirteen rising, even when they’re butting heads, they don’t let it get in the way of doing what needs to be done. hell, skarlet even points out that she wouldn’t be giving rho such a hard time if she didn’t respect the hell out of rho, if she didn’t think she was tough enough to take it. there’s a sort of unspoken bond between them, a slow orbit that they’re both caught in. at the end of the series, they part way on relatively good terms, and with the hope that maybe, just maybe, that orbit might become something more than just professional acquaintance.

also their oppositional dichotomy of cardinal fire/water signs is an awesome aesthetic that i really wish was brought up more than it was in canon :( 

11. If you could record a Snow Globe, what would you put in it? only A snow globe? you’re not exactly giving me a lot of slack here in all seriousness, if i had to choose one moment to record in a snow globe, probably the moment i first came up with the idea for the urban fantasy project i mentioned above, tales from omphalos. i’ve never been devoted as much time to or invested as much energy in a project as i have with tfo, and i’d like to keep an easily accessible record of my original vision on hand. and hey, if by some chance i manage to follow in romina’s footsteps, get tales from omphalos professionally published, have it become a big success with a respectable fandom, i’d like to look back every once in a while, and remember how it all began.

12. If you had the chance to tell Rho anything, what advice/encouragement would you give her? - lies, especially lies of omission, are necessary a lot of the time to get ahead in politics and life in general use that being ahead to help out the people and groups you care about - don't trust the immortal child-aristocrats or expect them to behave in a way that won't inevitably screw you over - if you must play nice with them, figure out how to decrease gemini’s horrific income inequality, and see what you can do about exporting cell rejuvenation therapy to the wider zodiac - ferez is right, risers are the future and you need to acknowledge that going forward - skarlet is excellent at garnering support and bridging generational gaps, and while fernanda purecell is a bougie running dog, she’s got her head screwed on the right way regarding politics and institutional riserphobia; together, the three of you should be able to make some headway towards making amends for past wrongs - i don’t care if family heads have suffrage, matriarchal aristocracy (aristocratic matriarchy?) is NOT a democracy or a form of government that looks out for the rights of men/NB people/agender people/multigender people/intersex people/you get the idea - romance is by no means an exclusively two-player game, and skarlet has said she would be open to an arrangement; however, if you MUST insist on ignoring that polyamory is a thing, go for the six-foot risers' rights activist - i’m sorry about all the bullshit with your mom. whatever the end result was, whatever her intentions, it does not excuse the way she treated you and your dad and stanton. it’s okay to feel like shit because of what she did to you, and not being able to wall it off doesn’t make you weak or anything dumb like that - you’re already far stronger than she ever was. i know how much it sucks - i was in the same situation as you once - but believe me when i say that things do get better. you’re not alone here, rho. - please you gotta fight the gender binary you live in the FUTURE you gotta do it you gotta-

BONUS QUESTION 13. How would you react if your friend became a Riser? let them know that I love and support them no matter what their house, that being the way that they are is totally valid, and that anyone who says otherwise will have to answer to my fist in their face. if they’re unbalanced, make sure they have access to any resources they need (possibly including memory recap vlogs, definitely including medication and therapy to help out with any health issues they may develop).

[ainereads]

Reading Rush TBR

This month I am participating in The Reading Rush. I’m really excited about this one! All book descriptions are from Goodreads.

Read a book with a cover that matches the colour of your birth stone

For this prompt I picked Survivior by Tom Hoyle. I was born in May and so my birthstone is Emerald. 

When the first person on the Ultimate Bushcraft adventure holiday mysteriously dies, it's a tragedy. But when the second, and third die ...it's no longer mysterious: it's suspicious. Who can you trust when everyone left alive is a suspect? Who is the murderer? As the numbers dwindle, the chances of survival plummet ...Staying alive has never seemed so guilty.

Read a book that starts with the word “The”

I picked another Tom Hoyle book here. The Challenge. I’m pretty sure I attempted this before and was severely creeped out.  

The Challenge by Tom Hoyle, bestselling author of Thirteen, is a gripping adventure thriller about an online game gone wrong. Ben's been grieving for his best friend, Will, who suddenly disappeared from their tiny village a year ago. But when twins Sam and Jack begin at the school, things start to look up. Cool, good-looking and popular, they draw Ben into their world and introduce him to The Challenge. What first appears to be a fun internet game quickly turns sinister as Ben's tasks become wilder and more dangerous, starting to raise questions over Will's disappearance. But once you're involved with The Challenge, it's very hard to get out.

Read a book that inspired a movie you’ve already seen

Here, I picked The Miserable Mill by Lemony Snickett. I loved the film and the series for these books. 

Dear Reader, I hope, for your sake, that you have not chosen to read this book because you are in the mood for a pleasant experience. If this is the case, I advise you to put this book down instantaneously, because of all the books describing the unhappy lives of the Baudelaire orphans, The Miserable Mill might be the unhappiest yet. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire are sent to Paltryville to work in a lumber mill, and they find disaster and misfortune lurking behind every log. The pages of this book, I'm sorry to inform you, contain such unpleasantries as a giant pincher machine, a bad casserole, a man with a cloud of smoke where his head should be, a hypnotist, a terrible accident resulting in injury, and coupons. I have promised to write down the entire history of these three poor children, but you haven't, so if you prefer stories that are more heartwarming, please feel free to make another selection. With all due respect, Lemony Snicket

Read the first book you touch

I haven’t actually picked a book for this prompt yet but I can confirm that it’s just going to be a book that is already on this TBR because I’m already being overly ambitious as it is.

Read a book completely outside of your house

For this, I’m going to be reading Mistletoe & Murder by Robin Stevens. Christmas in July and all that jazz. I’m going a trip during the Reading Rush so this will be the book I pick up then. 

Daisy Wells and Hazel Wong are spending the Christmas hols in snowy Cambridge. Hazel has high hopes of its beautiful spires, cosy libraries and inviting tea-rooms - but there is danger lurking in the dark stairwells of ancient Maudlin College. Two days before Christmas, there is a terrible accident. At least, it appears to be an accident - until the Detective Society look a little closer, and realise a murder has taken place. Faced with several irritating grown-ups and fierce competition from a rival agency, they must use all their cunning and courage to find the killer (in time for Christmas Day, of course).

Read a book in a genre that you’ve always wanted to read more of

I’ve picked The Silence of The Girls by Pat Barker for this prompt. I’ve heard great things about it and I haven’t read anything like it before so I’m very excited about it. 

The ancient city of Troy has withstood a decade under siege of the powerful Greek army, which continues to wage bloody war over a stolen woman—Helen. In the Greek camp, another woman—Briseis—watches and waits for the war's outcome. She was queen of one of Troy's neighboring kingdoms, until Achilles, Greece's greatest warrior, sacked her city and murdered her husband and brothers. Briseis becomes Achilles's concubine, a prize of battle, and must adjust quickly in order to survive a radically different life, as one of the many conquered women who serve the Greek army. When Agamemnon, the brutal political leader of the Greek forces, demands Briseis for himself, she finds herself caught between the two most powerful of the Greeks. Achilles refuses to fight in protest, and the Greeks begin to lose ground to their Trojan opponents. Keenly observant and coolly unflinching about the daily horrors of war, Briseis finds herself in an unprecedented position, able to observe the two men driving the Greek army in what will become their final confrontation, deciding the fate not only of Briseis's people but also of the ancient world at large. Briseis is just one among thousands of women living behind the scenes in this war—the slaves and prostitutes, the nurses, the women who lay out the dead—all of them erased by history. With breathtaking historical detail and luminous prose, Pat Barker brings the teeming world of the Greek camp to vivid life. She offers nuanced, complex portraits of characters and stories familiar from mythology, which, seen from Briseis's perspective, are rife with newfound revelations. Barker's latest builds on her decades-long study of war and its impact on individual lives—and it is nothing short of magnificent.

Read a book that takes place on a different continent than where you live

For this final prompt, I’ve picked Gregor & The Code of Claw by Suzanne Collins. This is the final book in the Underland Chronicles and I’m so excited to see how it ends. 

Everyone in the Underland has been taking great pains to keep The Prophecy of Time from Gregor. Gregor knows it must say something awful but he never imagined just how awful: It calls for the warrior's death. Now, with an army of rats approaching, and his mom and sister still in Regalia, Gregor the warrior must gather up his courage to help defend Regalia and get his family home safely. The entire existence of the Underland is in Gregor's hands, and time is running out. There is a code to be cracked, a mysterious new princess, Gregor's burgeoning dark side, and a war to end all wars.

And that’s my entire TBR for this readathon. I’m so excited to complete it!

[creative-type]

I recently read Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn on recommendation from a friend. Finished it in about a day, and have had it stuck in my head ever since. Not because I liked it -- quite the opposite, in fact -- but after finishing the last pages of the epilogue and setting the book down never to be revisited again, I had to ask myself a question:

Is it possible to read a book incorrectly? And if so, did I?

Spoilers and musings beyond the cut. Fair warning, Sharp Objects is a fairly dark book that covers some pretty heavy issues including cutting and abuse. Consider yourself warned

To start out with, I’m not a huge fan of death of the author. I do think the reader of a text has to take the effort to try and figure out what the author is trying to tell them. Consideration should be made for the time and place the work was written, the prevailing culture, and so on and so forth. A historical romance written today isn’t going to ever replicate completely the style of Jane Austin because the authors are drawing from two completely different frames of reference. Culture changes. Languages changes. How we tell stories changes. 

(Note: Not saying death of the author is inherently bad. It is just one of many systems of interpretation, and like every other system has its benefits and limitations. My hackles only raise when it becomes the only system of interpretation, as if it were intrinsically more valuable and valid than the rest /rant)

That being said, I think an author can be very subtle with the message they’re trying to send, or purposefully leave that message open to interpretation. And sometimes...sometimes sometimes the signals get crossed along the way, and the message that was intended never reaches the reader.

Which brings me to the point of this rambling mess of an analysis. I found Sharp Objects to be a dreary slog of a book. I knew it was dark going into the story, but there’s no levity inter-spaced between the overwhelming negativity to act as a reprieve between the elements of horror and tragedy. It has a very bleak opinion on the human condition in general and the small town the story takes place in particular. The ‘small town with a dark secret’ and the ‘family with a dark secret’ tropes are well-worn and familiar fodder for stories like these, but if I hadn’t read the author’s note at the end I would have thought that Flynn had never actually spent time in small-town America because it clashed so hard with my experience growing up in rural Iowa, the disconnect taking me out of the setting pretty early on. 

I’m sure some people enjoy this kind of storytelling -- and apparently enough did that they turned it into an HBO mini series -- but it’s not my cup of tea. Maybe it’s my small-town roots showing, but I was almost offended by the picture Flynn painted of the fictional town of Wind Gap. I can handle darkness, but not page after page, after stinking page of unlikable, mean-spirited bickering and backbiting. 

The mystery itself sparked enough curiosity to keep me engaged, but I’d pretty much figured out whodunit midway through the book on genre conventions alone. I figured about the fifth time someone remarked that the killer had to have been a man that it was probably going to be a woman, and was instantly suspicious that the main character’s sister’s illness was never named. 

About the same time I more or less knew who the killers likely were, I began to wonder if I was reading the book wrong. I was struck by how well-written the prose was, with several vivid descriptions helping carry me along even if I didn’t particularly like what was being described. The main character, a middling journalist named Camille, starts the book as a former cutter and current alcoholic, and her mental state goes downhill from there. At one point she takes Ecstasy with her (I think?) thirteen year old half-sister (who, along with their mother, never felt like an actually character to me and more like a collection of bizarre traits and behaviors smooshed together in the semblance of a human being. Like I said, there’s never really any doubt who the killers are) and later on has sex with a barely eighteen year old boy who happens to be the prime murder suspect. She’s in such a messed up state that she thinks the best way to make up for this lapse of judgement is to try and give a blow job to the lead detective of the case while they’re sitting in the police station. 

You know, as you do.

What made me think this way was the fact that the book’s written in the first person. I thought, if only for a moment, that perhaps we the reader was being led on by Camille’s own prejudice. It’s no secret that she hateed her hometown and the people she grew up with, and would rather leave her past behind than face the trauma she endured head on. No wonder she’s describing the sky before a rainstorm as the color of piss, or that she takes the time to mention a floating pube in the bath of a hotel on the way to Wind Gap. Of course all of her mother’s friend’s are equally as horrible as her mother, or that the girls she knew in high school would grow up to be just as shallow and vain. It made sense that she would describe the siblings of one of the victims as a fat, tantrum throwing girl and another as a dullard of a boy who would never amount to anything. A stubbornly pessimistic, barely functioning, disaster of a human being would see the negative in everything everywhere she went. 

All at once everything clicked into place, and I felt like the author and I were on the same wavelength. By the time I got three-quarters of the way through the book I could see it going one of two ways: 1) Camille would somehow be proven wrong about her assumptions and prejudices, which would in turn kick start some character development or 2) Camille would be right, and Wind Gap would be proven to be just as horrible as she already thought it was. I figured if that second option was taken it was likely for the story to have a somber, even tragic ending, as the weight of all these terrible secrets and pain broke our lead character completely. 

That’s...not what happened, and in strange display of pacing the true killer is only revealed during the epilogue (side note, I thought the reveal of where all the teeth were hidden was one of the best twists in the whole story). To be honest, it felt like the author tried to cram an entire sequel into the last 10 pages of the story, but long story short, Mama killed Camille’s sister during their childhood, but it was Baby Half Sister who did the present-day murders. After this stunning turn of events, Camille finds a knife and gives into the temptation she’d been fighting for the whole damn book, mutilating the one bit of unmarred skin she has left and the implication that she would have killed herself had someone not stopped her in time.

Ah, I thought to myself, tragedy it is. Not my favorite, but I could see how the author got from Point A to Point B and you could take a somber message about how the effect the environment a person is raised in affects them for the rest of their lives. 

If the book ended there I would have been fine with it. I still wouldn’t have liked it, but it would have made perfect sense. Instead we get this last little bit to tie all the loose ends neatly in a bow. Note this ending comes immediately after the relapse into self-mutilation, which itself burst onto the scene with very little warning and was over after one paragraph:

Curry and Eileen packed my things and took me into their home, where I have a bed and some space in what was once a basement rec room. All sharp objects have been locked up, but I haven’t tried too hard to get at them,

I am learning to be cared for. I am learning to be parented. I’ve returned to my childhood, the scene of the crime. Eileen and Curry wake me in the mornings and put me to bed with kisses (or in Curry’s case, a gentle chuck under the chin). I drink nothing stronger than the grap soda Curry favors. Eileen runs my bath and sometimes brushes my hair. It doesn’t give me chills, and we consider this a good sign. 

It is almost May 12, one year exactly from my return to Wind Gap. The date also happens to be Mother’s Day this year. Clever. Sometimes I think about that night caring for Amma, and how good I was at soothing her and calming her. I have dreams of washing Amma and drying her brow. I wake with my stomach turning and a sweaty upper lip. Was I good at caring for Amma because of kindness? Or did I like caring for Amma because I have Adora’s sickness? I waver between the two, especially at night, when my skin begins to pulse. 

Lately, I’ve been leaning toward kindness.

When I read that last sentence, the gears in head ground to an abrupt halt, and I immediately disconnected entirely from the story. Camille had spent the majority of this book being anything but kind. The only instance I can see that might fit into this characterization is an off-hand reference in the first chapter that her boss (the Curry mentioned here) thinks she’s too soft in her writing. 

I don’t know why these last paragraphs exist in this story. For all I know, the author couldn’t think of a way to finish the book and defaulted to a last-minute happy-ish ending. It is, after all, her debut novel. Hell, maybe it had been added at the insistence of her editor, or some other outside influence. 

Or maybe I’m just missing something. 

Death of the author demands that I, the reader, create my own meaning, but I simply can’t. Neither of the two readings I saw the potential for are supported by the text, and I find myself wandering back again and again to the matter of authorial intent. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out what the author’s trying to say. Either the story is too bleak to justify this...if not redemption, then healing for the main character, or the ending is too positive for the harsh and terrible world the author has gone through such pains to describe. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

There is a third option: That even though the world is just as terrible and awful as you thought it was, recovery is still possible. It seems to be what that last page implies, but this is the weakest reading of all, if only because it doesn’t have time to develop. Three paragraphs does not a character arc make, and Camille spent too much time moping around being miserable to even consider the possibility of closure.

I think this might have been what the author was going for. It fits well with the metanarriative of the mystery itself. But if so, it’s a message poorly communicated, and even now I’m not sure what I’m supposed to take from the book.  

Again, on a technical level it’s very well-written, and undoubtedly I’m putting too much thought into what’s otherwise a generic murder mystery.  But I also think it’s important for the author’s voice to be heard in their work, even if that message gets a little muddled along the way. 

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

After the misogynistic shitshow by Dumb&Dumber, do you have any recommendations (can be books/movies/shows/etc.) for series with women in power written well? Something that is, you know, beyond Dumb&Dumber's two brain cells to understand?

My apologies for how long it took me to answer this, anon.

I’ll be glad to point out to you some well-written stories of women in power. The issue is that I’m not certain what you mean by “women in power”. The most common interpretation that comes to my mind is a woman in political power, but there are several kinds, so I’ll give you a broader range of suggestions.

Now I have to say, I’m no expert in this topic, and I probably can’t give you as many recommendations as I’d like. Sorry about that. And also - all of these series I’m recommending have shortcomings, and none of them are perfect. I’ll make sure to list the (perceived, in my eyes at least) shortcomings of my suggestions. I do have to warn you first, though, that my descriptions contain minor spoilers.

*These are in no particular order

1. Tolkien

Whenever I’m asked a question about a series with well-written women, my first answer is always to read Tolkien’s books. The history of his legendarium spans thousands and thousands of years in earthly time, and even goes back to a time when time itself didn’t exist (a la the creation of the Ainur). There are many, many well-written female characters in the professor’s legendarium, and the best thing, to me, is that they’re varied. Tolkien doesn’t stick to one type of woman to serve as his female ‘icon’, so to speak, he writes women in many different kinds, and I can appreciate all of them.

Some examples: Galadriel is probably the most well-known, and I stan a wise, powerful, revered queen. Other examples include Varda Elentári (I literally worship her lol), Nienna Qalmë-Tári, Melian the Maia, Lúthien Tinúviel, Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, Morwen Eledhwen, and Idril Celebrindal.

Now for the shortcomings. I really only have one shortcoming when it comes to Tolkien, and that’s the fact that he never writes from the direct perspective of his characters, the way, say, GRRM does for ASOIAF. And while that style does have its great points which I enjoy to the fullest, such as leaving everything open for interpretation, it also prevents us from having a full look inside the characters’ heads and completely humanizing them. Although, actually, I tend to enjoy that aspect of Tolkien’s writing, as it allows me to explore and settle on my version of a character (which I usually do through writing fanfiction, lol). Still, this can be a drawback for some.

2. A Song of Ice and Fire

Assuming that ASOIAF’s ending won’t be like the ending for Game of Dumbasses, which I’m 99% certain it won’t be, GRRM generally does quite a good job when writing women in power in the midst of a world as misogynistic and shallow as ASOIAF’s world. He very realistically explores the rewards and consequences of their actions, personalities, and so forth. There is quite a large multitude of female characters in ASOIAF’s world, and they’re all quite varied as well.

Some examples: Daenerys Targaryen (my queen from this day until my last day), Arianne Martell (I love her I love her I love her), Asha Greyjoy, Sansa Stark (she’s become rather controversial as of late thanks to Game of Dumbasses, but I still like book!Sansa despite having my gripes about her), Arya Stark, Alysanne Targaryen, Rhaena Targaryen, and Margaery Tyrell. I might even tentatively name Cersei Lannister, who, while certainly not a good example or representation of a woman in power, is a very well-written example of the consequences that living in such a misogynistic, stiflingly patriarchal world such as ASOIAF’s.  

Now for the shortcomings. As much as I love ASOIAF, there are some rather sexist and racist themes in it, and also, the fact that there’s such detail about nudity, especially in Dany’s early chapters, when she’s a freaking thirteen-year-old, make me very uncomfortable.

3. Empress Ki

Unlike the others on this list, Empress Ki is not a book series (if it was, though - God, I would buy the books so fast). It’s a Korean drama set in Ancient China during the reign of the Yuan Dynasty established by the Mongol Kublai Khan following the life of a real-life historical figure, Empress Qi. Qi began as the daughter of a lower-ranking noble in Koryo (the name for Korea at the time), a vassal state of China. She was sold as a concubine for the emperor, Toghon Temür. Despite having an empress at the time, Toghon Temür fell in love with Qi and favored her. Eventually, Qi did become empress of the Yuan Dynasty.

Empress Ki, the k-drama, follows this history loosely, but it’s by no means historically accurate. Nevertheless, it paints a dramatized version of Empress Ki’s journey. What I like about the drama is that Empress Ki’s ambition is never framed as evil. She becomes very politically astute and manipulative, even vengeful, but maintains her heroism nevertheless. There was never even any hint of “Oh no, her ambition is making her evil™”. I liked that very much, and it was such a breath of fresh air after the vomit-inducing misogyny that D&D didn’t even try to hide in their writing.

Now for the shortcomings. Unfortunately, since this is set in the royal court of imperial China, where empresses and concubines all lived and all grasped for the emperor’s favor, there is a fair bit of cat-fighting going on between the women, a tired and overused trope. While it’s understandable because of the circumstances the women are in, it still tired me to watch. Empress Ki herself was also subject to being forced to behave, at least publicly, in a very narrow and stereotypical line of behavior for a concubine of the emperor, since she needed support. Imperial China was pretty misogynistic as well, and the k-drama is true to that kind of setting, though unfortunately never addressing or framing it as a particularly bad thing. But as I said, Empress Ki follows real history, and I understand why the writers couldn’t throw in something such as women receiving equal rights to being heirs or something to that effect.

4. The Nevernight Chronicle Series

The Nevernight Chronicles is set in a fantasy world with three suns, in which night only arrives once every few years. The main character is Mia Corvere, who is the daughter of an executed traitor in the Itreyan Republic. The story follows Mia as she goes on a journey for revenge against the people who killed her father, and her aim is to become an assassin of a cult, as she believes this would help her achieve her goals. Sounds cliche, right?

Despite this kind-of-overused trope (kid loses parent, becomes an assassin to avenge them), Nevernight caught my attention because Mia, our protagonist, isn’t exactly human. She’s a darkin, and has the power to bend shadows to her will. This power, though, comes with drawbacks. I can’t say too much more, as this isn’t a very well-known series and much more would be spoilers.

Admittedly, I’ve only read the first book and am still trying to get my hands on the second one. In any case, I’m recommending this because I very much enjoyed the way Mia, as an assassin, was written. There’s a very fine balance between her ruthlessness in trying to become a hired killer and the remnants of her morality. I also liked the writing style, although I suppose it’s not for some. The author uses footnotes to help with his worldbuilding, which I found kind of tedious at times unless the information in them was interesting.

Now for the drawbacks (besides the thing about the writing style, lol). I must warn you: although Mia is sixteen at the start of the series, this series is not classified as YA, but rather as adult fiction. And there’s good reason for that. It has some rather explicit descriptions of extreme violence, blood, and gore, and also, characters are put in mature sexual situations despite being only in their teens. Said scenes were pretty well-written in my opinion, but it still made me uncomfortable. There is also some underlying racism.

5. Game of Queens

Game of Queens . . . had its good points and its not-so-good points. The reason I’m putting it on this list is because it follows the story of the two Biblical queens, Vashti and Esther. As you may know, Vashti was ordered by her husband, the king of Persia Ahasuerus, to appear before him and his men in the men’s banquet hall, which was considered extremely scandalous and something no decent woman should ever do. Vashti refused, and because of her refusal, she was either deposed, exiled, or executed. The Bible doesn’t mention her again.

Ahasuerus’ second queen, Esther, was a Jew but had to hide it (I believe the Persian Empire disliked Jews or something to that effect, but frankly I can’t remember exactly why). However, Ahasuerus, influenced by his villainous counselor, almost ordered war on the Jews. To save her people, Esther revealed her identity as a Jew, putting herself at risk, and pleaded with Ahasuerus to call off the war, which he did.

Anyway, I very much liked Vashti and Esther’s characterization in the books, for different reasons. Vashti I liked because she began as a pawn: naive, carefree, wanting for nothing, and then she began to realize that she was being used. Her story in Game of Queens is about moving past and growing from the manipulated, unthinking child she was into a competent and intelligent manipulator herself. What I find noteworthy, though, is that despite her increasing cunning, she retains her gentle nature, and her kind personality never really changes. Too often have I seen stories where women lose innocence and become cold and hard as they learn to play the political game. And while I enjoy stories like that too, I admit it was very refreshing to see something different.

I liked Esther because she defied the norm of a woman during that era. Esther was a skilled horse rider, and strong and fit physically, not at all delicate. A moment I really, really liked in her story was when her aunt commented that she must be tired after a long journey, and Esther, raised more as her father’s son than her father’s daughter, replied that no, she wasn’t, and that she was very used to traveling much further distances.

Lastly, Vashti and Esther also became friends in Game of Queens, and I very much enjoyed reading the moments of their friendship. There’s no jealousy between them, no pettiness, no catfighting. Just two young women working together and becoming close.

As for the shortcomings, I disliked two things in particular: Amestris, Ahasuerus’ mother, is the classic power-hungry seductress who attempts to manipulate everything from behind the scenes. It’s not that I disliked her in and of herself - she was a very competent, very intelligent woman, but her character is such a stereotype that I felt it detracted from the story. She’s given no real backstory, no real motivation. The other thing I disliked is that Esther fell in love with Ahasuerus at first sight, based only on his handsome looks. For someone as witty, determined, and tough as Esther’s portrayal in Game of Queens, I was disappointed that her falling in love with Ahasuerus was such a swift process with no logical or emotional backdrop.

My dear friend @martaaa1506 also told me that the Wheel of Time series and the Witcher series are very good. I’d actually advise you to check her out for more recommendations, lol. 

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Chapter 24

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 24

Series Masterlist

Chapters:  one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty / twenty-one / twenty-two / twenty-three / twenty-four / twenty-five / twenty-six / twenty-seven / twenty-eight

Word Count: 1938

Warnings:  angst, sex talk

Synopsis: Elly finds a role helping with the search for Bucky, Wanda and Clint. A plan is formed to get them back, but not everyone is happy about it.

Author’s Note:  Co-written with @fanficwriter013

Chapter 24 - Working in SHIELD

Bruce had been looking at Alexa’s DNA with the help of Jemma Simmons.  There had been a lot of questions about how Vision had been tricked into thinking Wanda was in that building when she wasn’t.  What they had found when they looked at a blood sample was really shocking.

Alexa was riddled with cancer.  It was everywhere.  How she was still functioning at all let alone at the high level she was, was beyond reason.  She had also done something to herself to trigger some mutations.  Bruce had worked out she’d used my research to work out where in the DNA genes could be switched on or off to create certain abilities.  She’d turned on the rapid healing factor possessed by Steve and Bucky for example.  She had also switched on telepathy.  There was something wrong with what she had done though.  The healing factor was weaker and all it was doing was slowing the spread of the cancer, and all he could do with her telepathy was project thoughts.  Just like that, I had a purpose again.

I buried myself in the work.  Jemma was a dream to work with.  You would pose a question to her about something you were stuck on and a few hours later she would come back to you again.  There was one day where I literally just disappeared for 12 hours.  I didn’t stop until Sam came in and physically removed me from what I was doing and forced me to eat food and then go to sleep.

The other thing that was happening was that I was being taken in to question Alexa with Sam and Natasha.  Not because I was supposed to be questioning her, I was there to talk to her about the science.  She knew her science, that’s for sure.  Wher Justin Hammer was a huge blowhard who stole everything he could get his hands on, Alexa was an actual genius.  It turned out she was his daughter, but she was everything he wished he could have been.

It made me uncomfortable being in there with her.  This woman had been fundamental with my coming to terms with my new life and how to balance it.  Now I wasn’t sure if all of it had been lies just to get to my work.  She would also become obsessive with me when I was there.  I think because she saw me as the weakest link.  Which of course I was.

All this talk of what to do with her got to me really badly.  Her condition meant she was going to die, really painfully.  The way she was now, the healing factor had slowed it down, but the mess up in her DNA was causing other problems.  I could take the powers away and she’d die on the table or I could fix them and we’d have a psychopath with superpowers on our hands.  She seemed to love taunting me with it.  She knew me.  She knew I would struggle with the idea and she prodded me with it.

“You know they won’t let you cure me, don’t you?”  She taunted.

“We’ve already told you, you speak to us not her.”  Natasha snarled.

Alexa completely ignored her.  “Your choice is to do nothing and watch me die knowing you could have helped, or kill me.”

“Maybe if you told us where our friends are we could come to an arrangement,”  Sam said.

Alexa laughed.   “Oh, honey.”  She said, shaking her head.  She looked back over to me.  “What’s it going to be, Elise?”

“What do you want me to do?  Tell me what I should do here?”  I said, my very thin shell of composure finally cracking.

“Oh Elise, I want you to kill me.  But only you.  Let’s see how much your precious Avengers like you once that little bit of innocence they love so much gets taken away from them.”  She sneered.

“Alright, we’re done,”  Natasha said standing, she went to Alexa and unshackled her hustling her out of the room as Sam came and took my hand.

“Don’t let her get in your head, El,”  Sam said, leading me down to the conference room.  It was where we ate when we all ate together as it was the only place that fit us all.  After a few days, we’d started eating together every night.  We’d lost three of us, we were determined that we weren’t going to let her split the rest of us apart too.

“She’s right though,”  I said, my voice coming out monotone.  “No choice here is the right one.  If we take the one that isn’t curing her, then we’ve condemned her to death.  I will be responsible for someone’s death.  You all keep saying how pure my heart is…”

Sam stopped me and turned me to face him.  “Don’t think like that.   She’s trying to get in your head.  She knows you.  She knew Bucky too.  She knows exactly the buttons to push to get you to do exactly how she wants you to.  She’s trying to get you to do something stupid and split us all apart.”  I leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around me.  “I love you, El.  We all do.  Even the ones that can’t quite get the words out.  Don’t doubt that for one second and don’t let her use your own insecurities about what it is about you that we love, make you think for one second that you can lose us.”

“I love you too,”  I whispered.  He tilted my chin up and kissed me gently.  

“Alright, let’s go eat.  The others are probably already waiting.” He said.

We went to the conference room just as the last of the dishes were put on the table.  Everyone was there.  All of our own, all the SHIELD people, Thor, and Scott.   Even at a conference table, we were squished up.  Sam and I split up and I sat down between Tony and Scott, while Sam went and sat next to Steve and Maria.

I mostly just ate quietly while everyone talked.  Still feeling a lot like the odd one out as the conversation flowed between theories and hypothesis of what was actually going on.  Tony kept his hand on my knee and I did talk to Scott a bit.  He was almost able to keep up with Tony and Fitz spoke about engineering.  More so if he was talking to Mac.  Otherwise, the spy stuff wasn’t really his forte either.  We talked about his daughter back on the West Coast and the girl who he’d been seeing that he’d wished he’d brought along here too.  I felt bad for him getting dropped into this and getting stuck.  He could always leave of course, but he was loyal like a puppy and wanted to see it out.

I heard my name from the other side of the table and I looked up to see what was being said.

“There is no way.  No way on Earth I’d let that happen.”  Natasha snapped.

“Malleo seems to be nudging her to do it.  So why not let her?”  May said.  “We put a tracker in.  She gets taken to the others.  The game is over.”

Natasha’s gaze turned murderous.  “She isn’t trained for anything like that.  She isn’t trained at all!  What if she doesn’t even take her back to where she has them?  What if she just kills her as soon as she’s outside the door?”

“Maybe you should ask Elise?”  Steve suggested quietly.

Tony’s hand tightened on my leg.   I looked around the room.  “What are we talking about?”  I asked.

“The suggestion has been made that we have you get Alexa to believe you’ve turned so she takes you to where the others are and we trace you to them,”  Steve explains, his voice deadly calm and deadly serious.  It was the most Captain America he’d ever addressed me.

Tony looked from me to Steve.  “You can’t be serious?  They took Wanda.  You think Elly even stands a chance?”

“It would be just in and out.  We won’t lose sight of her.”  Steve said.

Tony stood, placing his hand on my shoulder.  “Absolutely not.  No.  She isn’t part of this.”

“Maybe you should let Elly have a say,”  Steve said calmly.

“Are you kidding me right now?”  Tony’s voice cracked a little like he was trying very hard not to yell.  “This is about Barnes again.  You would put her life at risk to get him back?”

Steve leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “So he’s Barnes again all of a sudden?”  He snarked.  “It’s not just Bucky.   It’s Wanda and Clint too.  And our home.  We can’t even go home because of them.”

Tony opened his mouth to argue but I put my hand on his.  “I’ll do it.”

“Elly, be reasonable,”  Tony said

“It’s too dangerous,”  Natasha added.

I shook my head.  “If it gets them back…”

“But it might not and then we lose you too,”  Natasha argued.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “I’ll do it.”

Tony pulled his hand away from me.  “I’m not going to have anything to do with this.  You’re all on your own.”  He snapped and stormed from the room.

Bruce got up and his eyes darted around the room.  “I - I’ll go talk to him.”  He said and followed after Tony.

“I could go with her,”  Scott suggested.  “I’ll have comms.  And - and I can fight if that chick does turn on her.”

“That’s a really good idea.  You sure you can stay hidden?”  Steve said.

“Yeah.  Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Of course.  That’s what I do.”  Scott answered, bouncing in his seat a little.

“Finally, we’re getting somewhere!”  Thor said, with a wide smile.

“We’ll need a tracer.  Something so small it won’t be detected.  Nanotech.”  Fitz said, pulling out a tablet and starting to tap away at it.  “I might need Stark’s help to get one up and working this quickly.”

“Let me go talk to him first.  You guys, sort out the fine details.”  I said getting up and heading out to find Tony.

He and Bruce were in the lab and both turned to me when I came through the door.  “Please don’t do this,”  Tony said, his voice right on the edge of pleading.

I approached him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.  He leaned his head against my chest and I ran my fingers through his hair.  “Scott’s going to come with me.  Does that help?”  I asked.

“A little.  No.  Not really.”  He muttered.

“I want to go home, Tony.  I want us all to be together again.  I hate how I’ve felt since this started.”  I said, resting my cheek on the top of his head.

“There are other ways,”  Tony argued.

“I don’t think Steve would have suggested this if he thought there were.  She’ll trust me because she thinks I’m weak.”  I said.  “Have some faith in me where she doesn’t.”

He swallowed and looked up at me.  “As soon as you find them we’re pulling you out.”

“Please do,”  I said with a smile.

“This is so ridiculously dangerous.”  He said shaking his head and turning back to the lab bench.

I moved up behind him and kissed his shoulder.  “You know how you said I have a little piece of all of you in me?”  I said.

He nodded his head.  “Yeah so?”

I chuckled and kissed his cheek.  “Well stupidly dangerous stunts is something you all do.”

He shook his head.  “You’re such a dork.”

[darkvalkyrie6]

A plan of a frozen heart

This story has two rather difficult topics. I’m not gonna give them away right at the start of the story so no spoilers for now.

If you want spoilers there is a short explanation at the end of the story but I strongly suggest you read the story first then read the explanation at the end.

If you have spare time please read.

————————————————–

Ever since she could remember she always felt different than the rest of the people around her. She always felt like she was living in a world where there was a large part she didn’t understand. 

As a small child, in kindergarten, she had difficulty making friends and talking to others. Every time she tried talking to other children or tried playing games with them they chased her away and called her a freak. It didn’t bother her that the other children were mean to her, she saw the same thing also happen to other children. What bothered her was that the other children, who got called freaks, ran away crying calling for their mothers. She didn’t understand why they did that. 

It was no different at home. Her mother and father were always fighting and screaming at one another. Most of the time her father hit her mother until she started crying. She didn’t understand what made him do that. She understood why her mother was crying. Her father hit her and, because he was stronger than her, it probably hurt a lot. She remembered the time she fell off the tree and hurt her knee. That really hurt and her body just reacted by itself with tears falling down her face, so logically tears were a sign of pain.

She went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit and brought it to her mother to clean the wounds that her father inflicted upon her mother's face. Her mother was crying, turning her head away from her daughter, avoiding her eyes ‘Why is she doing that? Why won’t she look at me? I won’t hit her.’ She continued to clean her mother's wounds not understanding that her mother was feeling ashamed. After she finished cleaning and bandaging the wounds she put all the things back into the first aid kit and started to get up. Her mother put her hands around her hugging her tightly, still crying. Not knowing what to do she put the first aid kit down on the floor and did the same as her mother did, she put her hands around her mother.

As she got older she started to see that people react to other people's emotions and situations. They reacted differently to happy events, sad events, jokes and humor, whatever that may be, their own lives, and even the weather in different ways. As the years went by she watched people’s reactions to different kinds of events and situations. She learned that happy events were events like birthdays, holidays, Christmas, playing games, especially if you are winning, getting new toys or being the first to get the newest toy you could buy. Those weren't the only ones. As she got older she learned that there are hundreds of events and situations that people considered happy, funny or good and reacted to each of them similar but at the same time different. 

By watching people's reactions to different kinds of events and situations she started to memorize the reactions so she could mimic them when she needed to. The happy ones were easy. They relied on how well you know the person who is having a happy event or situation, and by that measurement it was expected of you to smile, clap and congratulate them. If you know the person better, give them a hug, take a picture with them or with them and other people, but if you know a person for a long time, give them a kiss on the cheek, be their companion and talk to them during the celebration. There were always exceptions, of course, she learned that not all people like that you to do the things that are expected of you during a happy event. So she always had a plan B for reactions to happy events.

The sad events and situations were more difficult. The first sad event she was ever exposed to was when her hamster died. He lived for four years in her room and she took care of him. She gave him food and water, cleaned his cage and occasionally let him walk free around her room. When he died, her father dug a small hole in the backyard and buried him. Her mother came into her room to comfort her and explain what death is, but found her sitting on the bed doing homework. Her mother looked at her puzzled and set next to her “Sweetie, can we talk for a minute?”

“Yes mom. What is it?” She put down her pencil and looked at her mother's puzzled look.

“You know what happened to Mr. Bites?” Her mother asked.

“Yes. He died.” She replied, no change in the tone of her voice or the look on her face.

“You know what that means?” Her mother asked as a sad look appeared on her face.

“Of course I know. He was alive, he got old and he died. I think he died in his sleep because he was in his house when I found him.” She said. 

“Ok Sweetie. I love you. If you need anything I’ll be down in the kitchen.” Her mother stood up and started to leave her room. This conversation with her ten-year-old daughter worried her. Her daughter's hamster, that she had for four years, just died and her daughter showed no signs of any kind of emotions. She didn’t look sad, she wasn’t crying, she wasn’t looking for consolation like a normal child her age would have, instead, she was doing homework. Yes, the conversation worried her, it worried her a lot, especially because on her birthday and on Christmas day her daughter seemed normal, completely opposite to what just happened. 

“Ok mom. Thanks.” She said and thought ‘Did I miss something. Was the death of Mr. Bites some kind of an event or a situation. It didn’t seem like a happy event, nobody was laughing.’  She didn’t understand so she went back to doing homework.

As time passed she came into contact with more and more events and situations, she never before saw or understood, she categorized them as good, happy, funny, sad, dangerous, violent etcetera. She watched people's reactions to the events and situations, memorized them and formed her own versions of reactions so she could respond accordingly to people's expectations. At thirteen years old she got so good at mimicking emotions, and the more reactions she memorized the better she got at responding accordingly to people's expectations to the events and situations. She even made a few friends.

She liked the new classes they were given in school, the science classes like mathematics and physics. They seemed so easy to her, you were given a problem to solve, you solved the problem using logic and got a result or formed a hypothesis, made a prediction based on the hypothesis, tested the prediction and iterated. In all of her science classes she was a straight-A student. The other classes where a bit of a problem for her because they didn’t rely on logic. Literature was the most difficult to understand. The teacher always asked questions like what the author meant when he wrote that scene or why did this character feel so much passion etcetera. To her it seemed that literature was based on emotion, the part she didn’t understand, not logic. It was difficult enough to mimic responses and emotions, but this was another level of difficulty. She managed to get the list of books they were going over this year of school and decided to search for the answers. Next year she will go to high school where she will pick more logical based classes instead of the emotion based ones.

One day she was at home, on her laptop, searching for the answers to the probable questions the teacher could ask for the next book when she came across a news article about a man putting his wife in a coma. It was a case of domestic violence that went on for years and nobody did anything to help and protect the woman from her husband that was beating her every day. She continued to read the article as she heard her mother and father fighting again downstairs. She opened a new tab on her web browser and in the search bar she typed in domestic violence. There were so many articles about it, psychiatrists explaining why men beat women and why were women afraid to leave the men who beat them. Some articles were giving advice on what to do and what not to do in case of domestic violence. But the advice wasn’t logical and most cases of domestic violence ended with: Woman killed by her husband. Husband in jail. 

She heard her mother cry, stood up, got the first aid kit like the past hundreds of times, and went down to help her mother clean and bandage the wounds. When she saw her mother sitting on the floor, face all swollen, bleeding and crying she sat next to her and for the first time she understood why her mother always hugged her after she cleaned her wounds, she was afraid and didn’t want to be alone. She put the first aid kit on the floor, put her hands around her mother and hugged her. Her mother looked up at her daughter in disbelief, this was the first time her daughter hugged her first, with tears running down her face she put her arms around her daughter hugging her. They both sat there for a while both crying. 

She let go of her mother ad opened the first aid kit. “Come on. Let me fix what he did. You don’t have to be ashamed for his actions.” She said softly to her mother. Her mother let go of her, lifted her head up and for the first time she didn’t look away, a small smile started to appear on her face.  

After reading all the articles about domestic violence and seeing her mother beaten by her father she couldn’t sleep all night. The thought ‘woman killed by her husband’ was repeating in her head over and over again. Her mother was the only person who, every day, told her that she loved her, she couldn’t reciprocate that love to her mother, because she couldn’t feel it, but she still felt that her mother was the only person that cared about her. Her father never said those words to her. She needed to help and protect her mother but the advice on what to do and what not to do in case of domestic violence wasn’t logical. She needed to form her own plan.

For a month she researched ways how people died by accidents and worked on her own plan on how to help and protect her mother from her father. While researching accidental deaths she found out that most of the accidental deaths happened to people when they were at home or at work. It was logical. People spent most of their time at home or at work, especially people with families. She read about the most common causes of accidental deaths and a plan started to form in her head.

One day she came home from school and heard screaming coming from the living room. She threw her school bag on the floor ad rushed into the living room. Her mother was on the floor screaming in agony, her left hand broken, there was blood everywhere. She immediately came to her, trying to help but there was nothing she could do. Her father was standing a few steps away from them “She deserved that. That bitch hit me!” He said with anger in his voice.

For the first time in her life she felt something. She felt rage. 

As rage overtook her whole body she leaped towards her father and started hitting him as hard as she could. He stumbled a bit, but he was bigger and stronger than her so he grabbed his daughter by the neck and slapped her hard. “You bitch. You're the same as your mother. Do I have to teach bought of you your place!” He shouted as he threw his daughter on the floor. She stood up, took the phone out of her pocket and called an ambulance.

The ambulance took her and her mother to the hospital where two police officers were waiting. One of them came with them. “I will need to take pictures of your wounds. It’s standard procedure and it will take just a few minutes.” First, she took a picture of her mother's broken arm, wounds and bruises on her face and neck. “Did he hit you anywhere else?” The police officer asked her mother but her mother was silently grinding her teeth in agony, trying to silence her scream and the pain of her broken arm. “Ok. We can do this later. Don’t worry I’ll watch your daughter.” The nurses and doctors took her mother away and the police officer turned towards her “Come with me. The nurses and a doctor are going to examine your injuries and I’m just gonna take a few pictures. Ok?” A nurse came and they walked into an examination room. 

She took off her clothes, put on a hospital gown and sat on the examination table. The police officer took photos of her split lip and the bruises on her neck. “Did he hit you anywhere else?” The police officer asked.

“No...How's my mother? Where did they take her?” She asked no emotions showing on her face or in her voice.

“I don’t know. They probably took her to fix her arm. The doctor will be here soon. But more importantly, are you ok? How are you feeling?” The police officer asked. She saw hundreds of domestic violence victims and knew how traumatizing it can be for a child to be a victim. But this child didn’t seem like a victim of domestic violence. She didn’t show any signs that children usually do after experiencing trauma like she just did. She looked like nothing happened. At thirteen years old she should understand what just happened to her mother yet she just sat there on the examination table looking bored. The police officer looked at her puzzled.

‘Oh...This is one of the events they expect me to respond accordingly. This is a sad and violent event that happened to me and my mother who I love. That means I should respond with tears for my mother, with fear because of violence, and dull look imitating shock of not understanding what exactly happened because I’m a child.’ Seeing the police officers puzzled look the thoughts rushed through her mind quickly as she remembered that she forgot to respond to this situation. She formed a dull look on her face, tears started forming in the corners of her eyes. Seeing this, the police officer reached out with her hand, trying to comfort her. 

She jerked her shoulder away from the police officers hand mimicking the fear of touch. The police officer looked at her with sadness and pity in her eyes. ‘Logically I should now ask her to leave me alone and that I want to see my mother. Children always ask for their mother.’ she taught and said “Please, can I be alone now. And when can I see my mother?”

A doctor entered the room and the police officer said “The doctors and nurses will take care of that. Just listen to them. Me and my partner will be waiting just over there if you or your mother need anything, ok?” The police officer left the examination room and let the doctor and the nurses do their job.

After a few hours she and her mother were reunited. Her mother was resting in a bed, her left arm in a cast. She was sitting beside her holding her mother's right hand. The police officers were sitting outside of the room waiting for her mother to wake up.

After a few hours her mother woke up, a doctor came in to check up on her and her mother. He talked to her mother for a bit explaining what they did and what she needed to do so her arm can fully heal. 

He looked at her split lip and the bruises on her neck, told her to take it easy for a few days and left the room. Outside he stopped and talked with the police officers for a few minutes and left. The police officers walked into the room, one of them took her outside and sat her on a chair by the room “Wait here for a bit while we talk with your mom.”

She sat there looking at them talking to her mother. it looked like they were asking her mother questions and writing her answers down in little notebooks. At one point her mother started crying ‘Why are they making her cry? Aren’t police officers the good guys?’ It didn’t make any sense that the good guys make bad situations and make people feel bad events. ‘Should I cry too?’ This was a new situation for her, a new event. She couldn’t compare it to any events she saw until now so she couldn't mimic any of the responses she memorized. She decided to sit and wait to see what will happen. Maybe she’ll recognize an event or a situation and find an appropriate response. She realized that there are even more events and situations that she has to witness and memoize the appropriate responses. 

The police officers left the room, said goodbye to her and left. ‘Why didn’t they talk to me? I was also there. He also hurt me? Why don’t they want to hear my side of the story? Is it because I’m thirteen. That doesn’t mean I don't know what happened!’ She went back into the room. Her mother was still crying so she decided not to bother her with more questions. ‘Crying...That's a sad event I know how to respond to.’ She climbed onto the bed, where her mother was lying down, she lay down next to her mother and put her arms around her comforting her. After a few minutes, her mother stopped crying, hugged her and fell asleep.

A few days later they were released from the hospital and went home. As they entered the house her father was in the living room sitting on the couch, watching TV, like nothing happened. There was still blood all over the living room.

“Finally your back. You left this place a mess. Clean it, it’s starting to stink.” He said just sitting there on the couch, his bare feet on the coffee table.

Something in her snapped. Seeing him sitting on the couch, surrounded by her mother's blood, seeing her mother, getting cleaning supplies, with fear in her eyes triggered something deep within her. She set her plan in motion. 

She ran to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest glass she could find and filled it with water. Se ran upstairs to her parents bedroom, poured the water from the glass beside her parents bed, the side her father was sleeping on, and put the glass on the floor next to the bed. Two weeks ago she started to remove the plastic wrapping off of the lamp cable beside her parents' bed. The side her father was sleeping on. She removed a part of the lamp plastic cable wrapping all the way down to the metal wires but she didn't use a knife or a scalpel. No, this needed to look like an accident and removing the plastic with a knife or a scalpel would look deliberate. Instead, she used her hands. She twisted the cable at one point until a crack appeared, using her teeth and fingernails she tore off the plastic cable wrapping making it look as if it had happened because the lamp and the cable were old and brittle.

She put the exposed wires into the puddle of water and called her father “Dad! Can you come here for a second? I need your help!” She shouted from her parents bedroom.

“Call your mother!” He shouted back.

“She is cleaning! Come here! Help me for a second!” She shouted hoping he will get up.

“Ok! I’m coming!” He shouted. She could hear the sound of creaking as he climbed up the stairs. As he entered the bedroom he saw a bunch of his wife's clothes on the bed and his daughter holding one of her mothers shirt. “What is this? Why are you rummaging through your mothers stuff?” He asked thinking that she is just wasting his time.

“We need to pick some clothes for mom. Some that she can put on with her cast on her arm.” She said and looked at him. “I could use some help with that. Can you turn on the light beside the bed and help me choose some clothes for her.”

He looked at her, angry that she was wasting his time with this nonsense and started to walk towards the lamp beside his side of the bed. He stepped into the puddle of water with his bare feet as he grabbed the light switch “Why is there water...” He began to say but was interrupted by a surge of electricity running through his body as he turned the lamp on. A few seconds later he fell on the floor, his eyes empty of life. Her plan succeeded in protecting her mother. Never again will her mother see anger, hate or rage in the eyes that belonged to the man who brought her only misery, pain and anguish. 

She saw her mother enter the bedroom with shock on her face as she saw her husband lying on the floor. Her mother rushed over trying to help him but she stopped her. “Mom, don’t touch him. He fell after he touched the lamp cable and he is still holding it.” She said calmly “Go call an ambulance.”

She could hear the panic in her mother's voice as her mother was talking on the phone. She was just standing beside her father looking at his lifeless body trying to think about how to react when the ambulance and the police come. Last time in the hospital she wasn’t prepared and reacted to the situation too late. ‘Someone dying is a sad event, especially a family member like a father. Because of that I should be very sad. I know. I will sit in the corner of the room on the floor holding my knees, crying. And this time if they as if I’m ok I’ll say no or I don’t know. The rest of the time I’ll stay silent like I'm in shock. That should be enough.’  

She turned around, sat in a corner of the room, put her arms around her knees and waited for the ambulance and the police to come so she could start to cry. The ambulance arrived, the police followed and she started to cry. Her mother led them upstairs to the bedroom telling them that her husband fell to the floor after touching the lamp cable and that he is still holding it, that she thought that he was electrocuted. Her mother gave the paramedics rubber gloves and they dragged her fathers lifeless body away from the bed and the cable. They examined him looking for a pulse but couldn’t find it. They tried to revive him but with no success. They declared him dead.

The police officers came into the bedroom. The same police officers that were at the hospital. The police officer who took pictures of her wounds walked over to her and crouched down. “I’m sorry about your dad. Your mom told us you were here when your dad turned on the lamp.” The police officer said, “We saw that he knocked over a glass of water on the floor and that the lamp cable wires were in the water. The lamp was probably old and the cable was probably brittle and broke but can you tell me a little more about what happened? Why was your dad here with you?”

She just hugged her knees more tightly, and continued to cry, not saying a word. She didn’t want to tell her anything. 

“You know, there is just one thing bothering me.” The police officer said, rubbing her forehead, “Why didn’t the glass break when he knocked it on the floor? From that height it should at least have a crack. Did you see your dad knock over the glass?” As the police officer said that, she stopped crying for a second.

‘How did I miss that? That's simple logic.’ She thought and began to cry again, “I don't know”.

The police officer was sure that she was lying. Something about this child bothered her. All of her responses and reactions didn’t seem genuine, they seemed rehearsed, like she was following a script written in her head. But how could she prove that this thirteen-year-old child had something to do with her father's death. “I know what you did.” The police officer said. Trying to get this child off guard, off her script.

She stopped crying, lifted her head a little and looked at the police officer. There were no tears in her eyes, there was no sadness on her face. She stared into the police officers eyes for a few seconds trying to figure out if the police officer was bluffing or if the police officer put the pieces of her plan together. The police officer stared back at her with a blank expression on her face. She couldn't read the police officer expression and she didn’t know how to respond accordingly so she stood up cryin 'I can't read the situation but I'm a child and children always call their mothers when ther afraid. That's the only logical response to this situation.' Calling for her mother she slowly walked out of the bedroom.

The police officer was now sure that something was wrong with that child and that she killed her father. The police officer knew that she did it to protect her mother from her abusive father. She also knew that she could never prove it because the child mimicked emotions and responses to situations so well that she fooled even her, who saw hundreds of victims of domestic violence, the first time when they were in the hospital and almost fooled her this time too. Whit that level of skill at mimicking emotions she would fool a judge or a jury in a second. They would even pity her life with a vilent and abusive father and she would never be found guilty of planing a murder and killing her father.

This time the police officer didn’t know how to respond.

The end

————————————————–

Thanks for reading :)

Every comment is welcome.

I just wanted to explain that this story has two rather difficult topics.

One of them is domestic violence. I know no one is a fan of that topic but it is a part of my story because the main character was exposed to domestic violence ever since she was born and it serves as a background storyline. 

I know that domestic violence is traumatic for children but I don’t know if it can cause alexithymia that the main character suffers from.

People with alexithymia have difficulty in distinguishing and appreciating the emotions of others, which is thought to lead to unempathic and ineffective emotional responding. 

The main character in my story can’t feel emotions, has difficulty  in distinguishing emotions of others, doesn’t have empathy and relies on logic and memorizing other peoples reactions to emotions of others to seem like a normal person.

I tried my best to write about how life with logic and without emotions and empathy would look like in our society today. I think I did the best I could because I don’t know a lot about  alexithymia. 

It was quite the challenge to write about it and it gave me a new perspective on how people who don’t know about my illness think about it and about how it affects me.

[dannifielding]

The Witchfinders Drabble

I’ve been thinking a lot about last week’s episode. I’ve done a little drabble about it. Under the cut for very slight spoilers. Enjoy :)

Also, there is Danni/Thirteen smut coming. It’s slow goings, but it’s definitely coming!

“Can I ask you a question?”

Danni switched the light switch, turning the big light in the bedroom off and illuminating the room in the warm, dim glow from the bedside lamps. It wasn’t very often that the Doctor came to bed with her, but usually after a long, rather peril-filled adventure she liked to spend the night together. Danni really didn’t mind, as long as she could get some actual sleep.

She looked over at her wife, who was sat on the edge of her side of the bed. She’d elected to a pair of blue plaid pyjamas and looked rather warm and toasty. Her sleepwear baffled Danni; it wasn’t particularly cold in the bedroom, but the Doctor would only say that she enjoyed the comfort.

She wasn’t sure why the Doctor was apologising, but was and that immediately made her suspicious. Nothing looked out of place in the bedroom. “What did you break?”

The Doctor looked over, offended. “What? I haven’t broke anything! Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re only polite when you’ve broken something,” Danni replied. “What did you break?”

“I didn’t break anything,” the Doctor grumbled as Danni walked over, looking over her wife, waiting for her to admit the truth. The Doctor shifted on the bed slightly, leaning back on her arms as she looked at the starry ceiling.

“Does that happen a lot to you?” she asked curiously. “Being patronised to death? Or ignored?”

Danni paused for a moment, because she’d expected to be told about something she was probably going to have to clean up. She’d had a hell of a time sorting out her workshop after she’d been in to find the Doctor had decided she’d needed a wrench and turned the whole place upside down looking for it.

But the question was understandable. She sat down next to her wife with a bit of a shrug. “Usually? Yeah,” she admitted. “But, usually, that’s because you’re in the room and people tend to dismiss me because of you.”

The Doctor looked down at her. “Really?”

Danni nodded. “Yeah, well, you’ve always had a very domineering personality. I’m used to it.”

The Doctor nodded to herself for a moment as she processed her own thoughts. “I’m used to people not listening to me,” she explained. “People in authority never like people coming in and proving them wrong. I’m used to having to fight to get people to stop being stupid and keep them alive. I’ve been dismissed as a meddler, or a dithering old man, or just annoying on multiple occasions. I’ve never been told to shut up, though, just for… well… just for…”

“For being a woman,” Danni finished for her. The Doctor nodded.

“I mean, I know that human history isn’t great for the women,” she continued. “I remember learning about it during school. And I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’m just not used to it being aimed at me.”

“It is frustrating,” Danni agreed. She took a deep breath. “I can’t say anything to make it better, either. Not all of history is like that. Not every species is that discriminatory. But, usually, there’s always something. Even 21st century Earth can be a bit condescending. You’ve always been held in higher regards than me. You’ve just got to remember that as long as the people who matter don’t care, then no one else really matters.”

“How have you not gone mad from it yet?” the Doctor asked her. “I’ve only been at it for a short amount of time. You’ve had this your entire life!”

“You get used to it, I guess. I’m always… what did you call Donna? The ‘plucky young girl who helps you out’?” The Doctor nodded, looking less than pleased at the reminder. “I play my part so you can get on with yours. Your part is just a little different now.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything!” the Doctor protested. “I’m still me! I have all my knowledge, and my experiences rattling around inside my big ol’ brain! I can do everything I used to be able to do! Why does my outside make a difference?”

Danni wrapped an arm around her waist and the Doctor responded in kind, pulling her closer for a hug. “It doesn’t,” Danni promised. “You know how amazing you are. If people don’t want to see that, it’s their own fault, not yours.”

“I don’t mind people not liking me. I have all that matters,” she replied, placing a kiss on Danni’s hair. She paused, eyes closed, enjoying the closeness for a moment. “But I’d rather they got to know me before not liking me. How can you have a proper knowledge about how awkward and annoying I am if you don’t give me a chance?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s probably pretty easy to see,” Danni retorted cheekily. The Doctor nudged her, causing her to giggle.

“Oi, you, behave,” she scolded. Danni just looked up at her, a little smirk on her face. She sighed. “I just didn’t think that it was going to be an issue.”

“Well, you were tired of your own experience. You wanted something new and that’s what you got. The universe through a new pair of eyes,” Danni offered.

“Well, it’s a stupid way to see the universe,” the Doctor grumbled churlishly. “How can people be so stupid?”

“I don’t know. I’ve given up trying to find out. That’s why I hang onto the people who aren’t,” Danni replied. She shifted so she was facing the Doctor, with one leg on the bed and one off. “I don’t care,” she told her. “About what’s on the outside. It really doesn’t matter to me.” She smiled softly. “You’re still my Theta. My Doctor. My Spaceman. Everything deep down inside, everything that matters, means that you are still the smartest person in every room and sometimes the most annoying. You are still utterly brilliant and bloody beautiful and all that has changed is that, if we wanted, we can now share clothes because you’re not a gangly thing anymore.”

The Doctor genuinely smiled at her and it was still one of the most beautiful things Danni had ever seen. “But how do I get them to see past the outside and listen to the person inside?” she asked.

“You just have to try,” Danni explained. “And, sometimes, it will work and sometimes it won’t. Sometimes what is – or isn’t – in your pants will actually mean something to them and you won’t be able to do anything about it. It’s no different to all the people we’ve met in the past who won’t listen to you because you’re a mysterious stranger who’s turned up in a blue box with a smoking hot wife. You just aren’t going to get through to everyone.”

The Doctor sighed heavily again. “This regeneration thing never gets easier,” she said bluntly. “I’ve had, what, fourteen bodies now, and it’s still a bloody minefield.” She reached out, cupping Danni’s cheek. “At least you never change, my Pet,” she said softly. “I’m never confused about you.”

Danni turned and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I guess I’ll just have to try harder, then,” she replied. The Doctor let out a bark of a laugh and leant forward, pulling her in for a kiss. Danni could feel her lips pull into a smirk, her free hand trailing up the side of her.

“You know, I think I’ve thought of a way for you to help,” the Doctor purred. “How about we get this off,” she gave Danni’s pyjama top a tug, “and I can show you how not confused I am.”

[seriouslyhooked]

Scoring Your Love (Part 15/18)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven,Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen. Story also on FF here and AO3 here. Banner by the wonderful @timetravelandfairytales

Modern AU where Killian is a world famous soccer star who has hit rock bottom and been sentenced to the place where ‘football’ legends go to die – America. While here he crosses paths with Emma, an up and coming musician and film scorer who challenges everything he thought he knew and makes him want more than the game he’s always loved. Will be filled with fluff for days. Rated M.

A/N: Hello friends. This chapter is coming to you after a little extra time away, but I hope you will forgive me after you read it. I enjoyed writing this because it brings a little closure in some ways, and sets CS up for more of the cuteness that the end of my stories always bring. I hope that you guys like it and I would love to hear what you all think! Thanks for reading!

Sitting in Regina’s palatial office on the top floor of the Mills Inc. building, there was no denying that she and her family were loaded.

Killian was by no means a poor man. He’d been saving for years, and his contracts were some of the highest paying that the sport had ever seen. With Liam’s advice and know-how, Killian had taken large chunks of his wealth and made more money on the right kind of investments and endorsements, but still there was a difference between rich and obscenely wealthy. Regina was clearly in the latter category.

“I’d say you get used to it, but I’m not big on lying,” Robin whispered as they awaited their host. Killian shook his head and turned his attention back to his coach, amused by the commentary.

“So if I asked where you and Her Majesty are relationship wise you would say…?”

“I plead the fifth.” 

Robin responded with a grin and a jovial laugh that spoke to his happiness. Killian didn’t need more confirmation than that. His coach and the team’s owner were clearly together, and Killian was glad for them. Robin was a good man, and though Regina was… well, Regina… Killian wished them both well in whatever they were doing.

“Smart move,” Regina said as she walked into her personal office, giving away that she’d been listening for a while. Both men made to stand up but she waved them away. “No need for that. We’re at war gentleman. Ceremony has no place in a warzone.”

“War?” Robin questioned, clearly entertained by the ferocity in Regina’s voice. His lightheartedness in the face of her fire put Robin in a category all his own. Few men would see such intensity and be interested, but Robin looked downright infatuated. “Isn’t that a bit… much?”

“Maybe. But I love a good battle,” Regina said, looking happier than Killian could imagine any sane person being under the circumstances. “What do you think, Killian? Is it a war you want?”

“No,” Killian said, surprising himself and Regina as well. Honestly though, when he thought of it he didn’t want a never-ending saga. His heart wasn’t set on vengeance or revenge, it just wanted Gold to be gone and gone for good. “I want peace for me and Emma. Now if the only way to get that is through a fight, then so be it. But I’m willing to bet there’s another way.”

“Good. I like the no fighting idea. Let’s go with that,” Robin said enthusiastically, drawing a deep sigh from Regina.

“Well, I was going to save this for a big finale – let us get a few good rounds in before just to mess with him - but I guess if you two are hell bent on taking the high road…”

The revelations that came from Regina thereafter were astounding to Killian, and he almost didn’t believe the words that the team owner imparted to him and to Robin. It turned out that for more than a year Regina had been cultivating a plant within Gold Industries, and that plant had been slowly moving up the ladder, gaining more and more access to the deeply unethical underbelly of a company that seemed clean on the outside. They were tracking and logging all of the happenings, and to Killian’s amazement, Regina was now confident that there was enough to take to the feds and get Gold in seriously hot water.

“I honestly didn’t expect these kind of results so soon, but Gold got sloppy, as fickle minded men are prone to doing.”

Regina’s words again could have been a turn off for a more ordinary bloke, but when Killian glanced over at Robin he looked proud of his woman instead of put off by her disdain for the male population. At another time Killian would seek to further analyze such a dynamic, but instead he focused on Regina’s words, which were more than he could have ever hoped for.

“It turns out Gold couldn’t juggle his hatred for you and his illegal business dealings all at once. We’re talking everything – corporate espionage, bribery, a hint of treason… and a couple of people on his personal black list who just so happened to get hurt or go missing. My source has documented all she can. All I have to do is make a call to my contact at the Bureau and that’ll be the end of it. He’s going away, no matter how much money he has.”

“You’re serious?” Killian asked, still stunned at the revelation. Regina held the key to the demise of a man they all know to be abhorrent, but still she waited. She should have acted weeks ago, or whenever the bloody hell she’d had enough to take this to the authorities. “Then what are you waiting for? Make the call.”

“I want to, really, I do. There’s just one problem. The second I make that call, you don’t need me anymore. If there’s no Gold there’s nothing keeping you from leaving when your contract is fulfilled. You’ll be back to Europe the second the season’s over.”

And there it was, the ultimatum. Killian knew the other shoe was going to drop at some point and now it had, but it wasn’t as bad a prospect as it could have been. As far as blackmail went, this was of a rather tame variety: keep playing for Regina’s team and Gold would go away. It was an easy trade in Killian’s estimations.

“Regina.”

Robin’s tone of censure was harder than Killian was used to hearing it. He clearly did not find this funny any more, and this final proposal was not something Robin would let stand. In fact, this was the closest to angry that Killian had ever seen his coach. The usually calm man looked downright heated, and again the intrigue of what he was witnessing struck Killian. If only the team were here to witness this with him. This was something that needed to be seen to be believed.

“You want me to sign on for longer with the team in exchange for bringing down Gold?” Killian asked as Regina and Robin remained locked in some kind of stare down.  He only asked to clarify, and there was no resentment in his tone because the truth was he had already been thinking at length about staying on.

Meeting Emma had fundamentally changed Killian’s earlier expectations. Where before he viewed this relocation as a punishment that must be born to get back to a better place, now his time on the team represented a new start that he vastly preferred to the life he had before. All of that had to do with Emma, and since Emma’s life was here, his would be too. That left him with two viable options: continue playing for this team or leave the game for good. He found that he didn’t have an issue with either plan, but all things considered he’d like to stay on with the sport he loved, even if the competition would never match what he’d once known.

“No, she’s not saying that,” Robin exclaimed at the exact time Regina said, “Exactly.”

“Regina, are you kidding? Tell me you’re kidding,” Robin begged as Regina looked at him like the man had three heads.

“What? You want him on the team, you told me so yourself,” Regina explained. “I’m giving you what you want.”

By this time Robin had jumped up from his seat and begun to pace the floor of the office. His hands rested on his hips and his head shook forcefully, as if the action would physically erase the thought he found so terrible. He looked disgusted at the way Regina was going about this, and while Killian wasn’t quite as clueless as Regina, he had to admit he was taken aback by such a strong reaction. This situation didn’t merit such an incised response, but Robin was a man guided by character and integrity, so it stood to reason that such a play would make him uncomfortable.

“I don’t want it. Not like this, Regina. It’s bad enough he was forced to come here in the first place. You want to hold him hostage all over again? You want to take away his will, for what? Another winning season? No, sorry. I won’t be a part of that.”

“Fine,” Regina said with a sharp exhale after a moment’s pause. “I’ll make the call, no strings. Happy?”

“Thrilled,” Robin said, and though he still looked huffy he walked to where Regina was behind her desk and planted a kiss on her that was by no means work appropriate. Killian ducked his head to give them some privacy, but still, there was no denying he’d just been privy to something that was not fit for public consumption. “We’re going now.”

“I think that would be best,” Regina murmured, her voice so much softer and less testy than it was before.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Robin whispered lowly, but Killian still heard the man. He pretended to completely miss the question for everyone’s sake, but it was hard to act like everything was normal given the situation.

“Yes, tonight,” Regina agreed before she set her eyes back on Killian. “Sorry, Jones. Old habits die hard.”

Receiving an apology from Regina felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing. The woman was hard headed, stubborn, and pushy. She’d crossed a few lines already and stepped on more than a few toes before, but never had he seen her apologize. He knew the change in her was likely brought on by her feelings for Robin, but either way Killian would accept it. There was no sense turning down her small display of humility, not when they were both on the same team.

“You handle Gold and send a competitive offer to my brother and I’ll consider it,” Killian replied, and though it wasn’t a direct verbal acceptance of her apology it was symbolically.

Leaving Regina with a victorious look on her face, Robin and Killian made their way to the elevator bay in silence. It had been quite a meeting they’d just attended, and there was a lot that could be said about what had just transpired inside the four walls of that office. Killian didn’t dare to broach any of it though. He had no desire to make things awkward with a man who he considered to be his friend and who had put himself on the line for Killian’s benefit. To do so would lack all honor, and Killian knew better than that.

“Not a word about this to the others.” Robin’s words might sound like a coach’s orders to some, but Killian knew it was a sincere request and not a demand.

“I was never going back to London,” Killian said, giving Robin his own secret to hold onto. It would keep things equal between them, and Killian could tell from the look in Robin’s eyes that his coach understood the gesture and appreciated it. “Do me a favor and keep that from the Queen for the time being, aye?”

Robin agreed that he would as the elevators opened on the first floor. At that point the two men said their goodbyes, and Killian headed off, allowing himself to fully rejoice in the good news now that he was alone. Gold was done for, and soon enough justice would be served. He and Emma might not be free from the pressures of the press, for those would never truly go away while he lived anywhere near the public eye, but his worst adversary was soon to be toppled. Knowing that that lifted a heavy weight from Killian’s shoulders, and by the time he ended up at Emma’s apartment, he was practically floating with that happiness.

Standing in front of the door, Killian pulled out the key that Emma had given him a few nights before. After they’d said I love you the exchange between them seemed merited. Killian wanted Emma in every corner of his life, and she felt the same way. Killian felt the privilege of her trusting him like this sincerely though, and as he walked inside his smile couldn’t be contained. This was a beautiful life that he’d stumbled upon and he, quite frankly, couldn’t imagine being happier.

“Oh come on! That’s a totally bogus call. He was off sides! Are you blind, ref?”

Emma’s irritated words spoken allowed led Killian to believe they might not be alone tonight despite his hopes, but when he walked into the living room and found his Swan she was very much by herself. It was quite a sight to behold: Emma, a novice to the game, who had no love in her heart for the sport before meeting him, was willingly watching a match between his next opponent and another team in the league. Her focus was entirely on the television before her, her eyes taking stock of the ball as it moved across the screen and there was no denying as he watched her for a moment before she could notice he was here that she was enjoying himself. It did something to his heart to witness this from Emma, because he knew she was invested because of him. Learning the game and watching it played was about trying to understand that part of his life, and Killian was flattered and elated that she loved him enough to take this on.

“Ugh, these calls are bogus. It’s gotta be rigged,” she murmured, talking to herself as so many millions of fans had done before her.

“Feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it?” Killian asked, pulling Emma’s attention to him. Her smile at seeing him was immediate, but he noticed the blush that spread over her cheeks. She’d been caught indulging in this and she knew it, but Killian couldn’t bear to comment on it before coming over to kiss her. He’d gone hours without getting the chance to do so, and he was about to share such happy news with her, it seemed only fitting.  

“If I knew watching ‘football’ would turn you on like this I would have started ages ago,” Emma said when they came up for air. During the kiss Killian had taken a seat with Emma and she had managed to find her way into his lap, just as he wanted her to be.

“You really want to pretend this is your first time watching, Swan?” Killian asked with a raised brow and Emma shrugged.

“It just happened to be on, that’s all.”

Killian laughed at her attempt to hide the truth and Emma caved to the laughter too, burying her giggle in the crook of his neck and sending the reverberation of that gorgeous sound pulsing through him. The reality of the situation was so transparent, especially since the channels to watch these games in the states was so obscure no one ever saw it. People were more likely to watch his old league play than American ‘soccer’ and so there was no chance of casually happening upon the station. It required active searching or a preexisting knowledge of what number would provide the right coverage, but Killian would let her words slide, knowing in his heart what she’d really been doing for him.

“You seem happy,” Emma claimed, her eyes coming back to meet his as if she was searching for any other kind of emotion.

“I am happy, Emma. Gloriously so,” he confessed as his fingers came up to brush a few wayward locks of her blonde hair back behind her ears. God she was perfect, and she was, thankfully, all his.

“So the meeting went well then?”

He explained to her all the ways in which it had gone better than well, watching as Emma’s eyes grew wider and answering any questions she had along the way. It shocked her that Gold could be undone like this and that the time for his demise would come so soon. A couple of times she asked for more details on Robin and Regina (since she and her friends had all long since heard of the strange match that existed between them), but her interest always circled back to Gold and the triumph of good over a bad.

“I can’t believe it,” she finally whispered. “He’s really going to be gone, just like that?”

“Well I imagine there will be some dramatics involved. A man of his stature isn’t going to go down without a fight, and he’s hardly the most even-tempered man to begin with.”

“How long do you think he’ll be in prison?”

“Depends on how the trial goes. But I suspect it’ll be a very, very long time.”

Relief washed over Emma at his words, and Killian wanted to promise her that he would take care of everything and that there was no way Gold would ever taste freedom again, but he couldn’t do that. All he could do was trust that the system would prevail, and rest assured that if it didn’t, Regina wasn’t above getting dirty to make sure he went down and stayed down. As it was, this was truly an ending to the chapter of their lives that had anything to do with Gold. His time had come and gone, and there would be no rise of that monstrous man every again.

“It’s just…” Emma paused, trying to find the right words to relay her thoughts on the extraordinary circumstances. “I mean you couldn’t write a cleaner ending. It’s like that part in the movies where the villain meets their terrible fate.  The bad guy lost and the heroes live to fight another day.”

“And in this movie what role do we play, Swan?”

“The heroes, duh,” she said, teasing him as a playful smile appeared at her lips.

“Right. And these heroes, they’re the ones that get the happy endings, correct?” Killian prompted as his hand ran up her side. He wanted to hear Emma say again how she loved him, and that, yes, they were destined for a happy ending. Instead she rolled her eyes at his cheesiness, but even that action couldn’t deter from how good he felt right now.

“Like you don’t know,” Emma huffed, pretending to be annoyed. Before she could take her act too far and leave him though, Killian’s hold on her tightened. The air between them swirled with a new delicious tension, and Killian saw the moment Emma felt the shift as lust colored her jade colored eyes.

“I do know, Emma. I know you and I are destined for miraculous things, and as for happy endings…”

Killian’s hand traced a delicate design along Emma’s skin, finding the flesh beneath her shirt and teasing her with his touch. He pressed a kiss to her lips, then to her jaw and to her neck and he felt Emma gasp for breath only to sigh into the action. Her heart beat at the same frantic rhythm as his, and she melted into him, her fingers grasping onto his shirt as if letting go would mean the end of this perfect thing between them.

“Yes?” Emma asked, reminding him about his earlier thought where her gorgeous body had driven him to distraction. He pulled back to look in her eyes, his hand cupping her cheek in a tender motion.

“Ours is bound to be better than any that came before.”

And with that promise, and some fancy maneuvering to get them both up from the couch and into her room, Killian attempted to show Emma just how breathtaking and wonderful and life-affirming their story was bound to be. For the road before them was long and light, and though dark days may come again, it was nothing they couldn’t handle, as long as they faced it as they always should: together.

Post-Note: Hey all! So I have closed the door (for the most part) on the Gold story line now. Still ahead we have some Liam stuff to get to, but rest assured next chapter will address that last hiccup for good.. I hope that you enjoyed and I would love to hear what you thought! Anyway thanks so much for reading and hope you have a great rest of your day!

[takaraphoenix]

Can I just say something, Hazel is not v. realistic. Like I'm 13 and i can't say the same for all 13yolds but neither me nor my friends dream of growing old w/ a husband and like rick makes her and sammy to be soulmates and that's not how a 13yo's mind functions. Also, she shouldn't be completely dependant on her. And as someone who has experienced racism its v wierd that she only experiences in her schooling rather than also w/ her mum and even in new rome. 1/2

2/2 : And Rick just randomly makes the chracters diverse but then he forgets that race is a part of character. I mean Hazel was living in the 40s as an African American and now when she’s resurrected we hardly hear anything about her experiences w/ racism. It’s not realistic. I’d expect her to maybe have some centering as a character on that. I just think that Rick cannot display characters out of his perspecitve at all and im just very annoyed. idk what do u think on this all

When I was thirteen, we all didn’t quite think past the point of high school graduation - our life was in the now. We definitely did not think about growing old and picket fences.

But yeah, I said it in a post before - many posts by now - but Riordan writes only what he himself experiences. And that is the life of a fifty year old white CIS het man. And while I can’t attest for the CIS part because I’m not reading that one series that features the genderfluid character, you can feel every other aspect of that list very strongly.

You can feel the “fifty year old” when you read about literally every single teenager dreaming about the white picket fence.

You fan feel the “white” when you read Hazel, Reyna, Piper and Leo.

You can feel the “hetero” when you read the clumsy coming out of Nico at the end of Heroes of Olympus. And actually also in Will’s flippant attitude when talking to Nico about it, because in my experience as a fledgling lesbian, older and more experienced gays and lesbians were being very gentle and welcoming and not like “LOL that’s why I was trying to talk to you for so long because I’m gay too!”. That was just to retcon in that Will was also gay; had Riordan actually cared about the gay sub-plot before, then we would have had interactions between Will and Nico in PJatO.

You can feel the “man” at every female POV in the Heroes of Olympus series. Every. Single. One.

Gotta admit, as a white girl from Germany, I do not know how things are for black people in the US (you know, beyond the generic news coverage online and the police propaganda in cop shows), but nowadays with things like Black Panther, Black Lightning, Dear White People, Timeless (seriously, the part that I adore most about that show is how it dives into the female and black history, the kind that’s brushed under the rug), also gotta mention One Day at a Time here for the Latinx representation, I realized just how very… white-author the Heroes of Olympus characters feel.

Especially with Hazel it infuriates me because she comes from a different time and to include how her experience is, how things have changed - and worse yet, how things haven’t changed - would be so incredibly interesting. How she experiences everything.

I mean, seriously, Percy got shunned for being a son of Neptune because Neptune was feared - but so was Pluto. Just how awful must it have been for the black daughter of Pluto in New Rome…?

But oh no, worry not, the black girl from the 40s with no knowledge of the modern world perfectly integrated into New Rome in 2010. No issues here at all.

We live in a time and age where not everyone can be straight and white.

We live in a time and age where representation isn’t just asked for, we demand it, because the world isn’t straight and white.

So the author of the book series where every single major character was white started sweating. (Beckendorf and Ethan were the only non-white characters and oh look, both got killed off.)

So he… he literally just looked around what there is to represent and just slapped a label on each of his characters, like a check-list.

We need A Black Character - Hazel, check.

We need An Asian Character - Frank, check.

We need A Gay Character - Nico, check.

We need A Native American Character - Piper, check.

We need A Latinx Character - oh, let’s be generous on that one; Leo and Reyna, double check.

I didn’t notice that back then, when I first read the books. But by now…?

I’m not saying I could do better - heck, unlike Riordan I also have the disadvantage of living in Europe and thus not even second-hand witnessing what the American Experience might be like for people of color - but if you decide to write a major book series and represent something you are not familiar with - may it be being gay, or from a different cultural background, or being a woman - then you should at the very least put the research into it to back it up.

Or, the easier cop-out, stick to what you did before.

And I don’t mean that as “just write whites”.

It really would be less of an issue if Heroes of Olympus had still been only from Percy’s perspective. Because we would have only gotten to meet the characters through Percy’s eyes - and not their own.

Because then we wouldn’t have had those flashbacks to Hazel’s past, we wouldn’t have to question how it came that those characters didn’t think about certain things or complain how they all seemed to think about other things collectively. And literally no one would have complained about a lack of POV changes, because PJatO didn’t have those - it was all Percy, so no one would have questioned if the sequel had also all been Percy.

It’s one thing writing about characters, but it’s different writing as characters. And in my personal opinion, Riordan shot himself in the foot by making HoO a POV split between this very diverse cast of characters, without having the actual background knowledge to flesh them fully out.

Not to mention the part where I generally think that going from one POV up to three and then to seven and nine different POVs had already been too much of a jump, but if you do that with so many different characters, who should also all have a different feeling to them, that only makes a difficult task that much more difficult.

Now, obviously, having the Seven all be white males would have been a disaster and also the wrong choice.

There are different things that could have been done though.

Like I mentioned, keeping it Percy’s POV, which we all would have been used to and no one would have questioned (heck, even if he had just done it a Jason and Percy POV due to Lost Hero).

Doing actual research for the things you write about. Also an option.

Or dialing down on the unknown. Let’s not forget, he wasn’t just juggling seven characters who represented something he wasn’t personally familiar with (also including Annabeth, because girl), out of the total of nine main characters all but three were completely new and had to be introduced.

In my personal opinion, he should have carried more characters than just Percy and Annabeth (and then later on also Nico, but not important enough to be one of the Seven) over into this book-series.

Clarisse, for example - she is over twenty, she is an experienced fighter and hero. That’d be a female character to be fully explored, but who has already been introduced (and would have made more sense than Frank, Hazel, Leo and Piper on terms of them literally having been introduced to the demigod world barely months prior with a total of one quest of experience before going to war).

Chris Rodriguez, who while never explicitely stated to be Latino as far as I remember, the name does imply and Riordan could have doubled down on that and included him. Hermes is a very diverse god, considering how much Riordan played with the powers of not overly powerful gods like Bellona or Aphrodite or Hephaestus, he could have done the same with Chris. It’d also have been fascinating to see the former traitor work hard to earn back his place at camp and to explore the mental strain put on him in the Labyrinth.

You would not have to start from scratch if you take characters you already have established. It makes everything easier, both for you as the writer and also for the readers, who don’t have to familiarize themselves with half a dozen completely new main characters.

And it takes away that edge of it being utterly ridiculous that, despite both camps having veteran heroes who fought in the Titan War and are around 20 years of age, they decided to send four kids who are essentially total newbies and of whom one is 13 and two are 15.

But yeah, those are just… personal picks on how he could have handled it better. Me, I simply wouldn’t have written about a prophecy of seven because this is a damn war. Seriously, the quest for Atlas, a minor stepping-stone on the way to the Titan War, already featured five main players with Percy, Thalia, Grover, Bianca and Zoe, only two less than this entire freaking war needed according to the prophecy.

Have it be the Giant War. Feature all of those new characters, but also your already established ones. Keep it first person Percy POV and show them fighting together, instead of singling only seven demigods out in something that is supposed to be an all out war against Mother Earth.

Neither of those are be all end all kind of answers to the problem, but suggestions on how it could have been handled differently.

The important thing would be growth and as someone for whom HoO was just too much, I can not judge that. Because everyone makes mistakes and everyone grows as a writer. So if Riordan saw what he did and learned from it - I know one of the Magnus Chase mains is a Muslima, another is mute, I think, and one is genderfluid, so if all of those are handled with more respect, research and dedication and it shows that he learned from the past, then that’s good and okay, because nobody is perfect and it’s all a learning curve, but if those are also just cardboard cut-outs put in place to be Representation, then that’d be… sad, I guess. And disappointing.

But, well, due to not having read that - and not planning on reading that - I can’t attest to it. I can just hope for the best for the readers who seek representation and got giddy about the prospect. I hope they didn’t get disappointed in that.

And I hope he will continue to learn from mistakes and grow as a writer, because yeah I generally don’t wish anyone anything bad and I truly, truly loved Percy Jackson and the Olympians. He hurt himself by trying too many new things in the sequels and if he learns to handle that and return the writing to the quality of PJatO, that’d be pretty amazing.

[hourzmanga]

JULY manga rec

hello all. i’m back and a little late.

Hanaoni Tobira no Sakaimeya-san: This series contains episodic stories of yokai and demons who visit a border shop in order to become acclimatized to the human world and meet the goal that they are seeking. Beautiful art and character design and i love my main characters ..

Haruka 17: A soon to be college graduate is desperately trying to find a job. Her search seems to be in vain until she has an interview at a small dingy office where she gets asked many probing questions and is even filmed. Confused, but going along with it, she is called back to be a talent at the agency rather than a manager like she wanted. However, despite her doubts, these circumstances drive her to improve and learn more as a model and actress, chasing her newfound dream. The art is sweet, the main girl is endearing and u just want the best for her, plus each character receives a lot of depth. I couldn’t stop reading!!

Kageno datte Seishun Shitai: Literally perfect manga it hits all my preferences PERFECTLY. After entering high school, the main character has found herself without friends. However, this changes when the handsome boy who sits next to her asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend so he can avoid the unwanted attention he keeps receiving from his female classmates. They begin their unlikely relationship as friends but as they become closer it becomes more.

Love, Hate, Love.: a former ballet dancer and current ballet teacher decides to depart from her current life. Never having had a serious relationship in her life, she pursues her older neighbor, a professor and patron at the bar where she works after her ballet classes. Sweet depictions of interesting characters who, though quite awkward, make up for it with honesty and earnestness. Same author as Butter! (another manga with dance involved—but ballroom instead) but this one definitely has a more mature angle (its Josei).

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun: A disadvantaged boy is sold by his parents to a demon for a pact. However, the demon wants to treat him as his grandson and send him to demon school. There, he makes new friends and succeeds with his unique human qualities. LOVE this, i immediately adored the concept and it’s loads of fun to read.

Majo to Neko no Hanashi: The stories of young witches who, upon turning thirteen, receive a cat and life companion who will help them find their way as witches. Delightful and SWEET.

Melancholia: Named for the asteroid that is coming ever closer to the earth and will decimate all humans living on it, this series of one shots examines the people (and non-people) living on Earth and what they choose to do in their final days. Lot of sweet stories and some strange and unsettling ones, with an unconventional view on impending doom. WARNING for pedophilia in second chapter.

Munakata Kyouju Ikouroku: Episodic chronicles of a professor who specializes in the history of iron, in Japan. Each chapter theorizes about the tangential connections between ancient stories and historical events, ultimately creating a whole new way of viewing not only history but also the modern day. Deals heavily with history so might be confusing if you don’t have any prior knowledge about like, Buddhism or Japanese history. Definitely would recommend having Wikipedia open. The main character also has the best look going on lol, definitely my type of character. But overall love the art and stories and how good it feels to know that you’re learning as you read.

Nekomata: A police officer who can also see nekomata, the spirits who observe the daily lives of the people that live in the houses they watch over.

Psychometrer/Psychometrer Eiji: The first is a rewrite of the second series. I found psychometrer eiji through the rewrite and was really really intrigued. The series are about a delinquent high schooler with the ability to touch objects and people and see select memories of where they have been. His power is discovered by a police officer who has him use his powers to assist her in her cases. I love the premise and the characters, although it often veers very typical shounen with like... boobies and panties and damsels in distress. I also like that the mysteries span several chapters and aren’t wrapped up in two or three chapters. Good amount of violence and blood, but not gratuitous imo. And pro tip: skip the chapters with the weird cop fetishist. not funny.

Seirei no Moribito: HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS. Like really, BIG recommend. This series centers on a woman working as a bodyguard who, by chance, saves the prince of the country she is traveling through. The prince has been possessed by the spirit of a water demon and the emperor and his associates have been attempting to assassinate the boy; however, this female bodyguard is hired by the empress to guard him and escape from the palace. When she does, she begins a journey fighting against palace hunters, supernatural beings, and more, all to protect the prince who carries something of great importance. The world building is super interesting and comes together piece by piece—from the two moons in the sky and the two worlds that exist side by side, everything is well thought out and executed beautifully. Also well written woman!!!! i’m in love w her..

Shounenshoujo Ryouryuuki: The stories of troubled teens that rely on fantastical and strange elements. The episodic stories join at the end and cleanly complete the series in a very satisfying and thought provoking way.