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evolutionsvoid · 6 years ago

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Dragons are always grand creatures that catch the attention of everyone around them. If you ever are looking for a tale about giant beasts and terrifying hunts, then you will most likely get a story that stars a dragon in them. Even the term "dragon" is used so much for monsters and beasts that it has practically become synonymous with them! I know I have said this many time, but such usage of the word "dragon" as gotten to the point where it rarely actually refers to the fire-breathing reptiles everyone thinks of. Now we have it where you need to specify if you are talking about a true dragon or a dragon beast whenever you bring them up! The difference being that "true dragons" are your reptilian creatures, while "dragon beasts" refer to pretty much anything that has the name "dragon" slapped on it. We already talked about things like Venom Dragons, which are just tiny mollusks that people overreacted about, and the Slime Dragon, which is...well, a Slime. In this entry we are going to talk about Bone Dragons, which are another species that people freaked out about and threw in the dragon title. What is fascinating about them is that not only are Bone Dragons more like insects, but they are actually more than one creature! The habitats that Bone Dragons live in are often on the arid side and possess rocky landscapes. Places that have mountains, canyons, caves and boulder fields are where you will often find them, though they have been known to extend their range if food sources are low. It is here where they will dig out their nest and lair, burrowing into the stone to form a personal cavern. In here is where they shall lay their eggs, hide from rough weather and horde their collected food. Whatever prey they don't immediately consume from a hunt will be carried back here and stored until they grow hungry once more. It is this practice of theirs that partially lends to their title of "Bone Dragon," which is funny because this end result comes from the fact that they dislike bones. Meat, organs and hide are happily consumed, but their mouthparts are not suited to feed on bone and marrow. As a result, the cleaned bones are tossed aside in their lair, which eventually start to pile up over the years. Like the Flayers, Bone Dragons will soon have a cave that is just filled with mounds of old bones. Their eggs and young will often be hidden beneath them, either for protection or the fact that there isn't much room for them to go anywhere else. These massive piles of remains helped give them their moniker, but the real reason they are called "Bone Dragons" is their unique appearance, which comes from their truly amazing reproductive habits. Look at these massive beasts from a distance, and you will easily see why they earned their name. They wear a pale exoskeleton that looks like bone, the fanged head that possesses large sensory pits gives the appearance of a skull and the long, knobby antenna gives the impression of skeletal wings. When these creatures were first encountered, people truly believed that the skeletons of long dead dragons had risen for revenge! The tales behind them varied from ancient necromancers to the belief that certain elder dragons possessed so much magic that it caused their remains to continue living long after death! It took quite some time for people to realize that these creatures were actually flesh and blood, and even more to realize that they were actually two separate beasts! When Bone Dragons hatch, they do not have this dragon-like appearance. What emerges depends on the gender of the larvae, as males and females have two completely different forms! Males look more like centipedes, with long serpentine bodies that possess a multitude of legs. Females have a body lay out that fits more with crabs and lobsters, as they have large pincers, long antenna and fewer functional legs than the males. The females also have a bulkier body, and their heads grow a large plow-like structure. Both of them have sensory pits on their head that allow them to detect scent, sound and even heat! They use them to track down prey, then they use their unique tools and bodies to take them down. For hunting, males use the speed of their snake-like bodies to ambush prey. Their forward most pair of legs have been modified into feeding appendages, which are used to seize a target and hold them tight. From their mouths come an orange fluid that is quite caustic, and they spew this acid all over the trapped creature. This aids in killing prey, and it also helps digest food before they have taken a single bite! For females, their hunting tactics are more slow and brutish. There is no stealth in their tactics, rather they locate potential prey and charge right at them. Due to this blatant tactic, females go more for animals that are big and slow. Those that are wounded and sick are also potential targets, and they will even scavenge off carcasses. Females essentially will eat whatever they can get. They will charge after living prey and use their sharpened nasal structure to stab and ram. When prey is knocked down, their powerful pincers will be used to rend and tear. These same claws will tear off chunks of meat to feed their mandibles as they pick through their kill. For years after their birth, males and females will live these separate lives, feeding on flesh and blood to help fuel their growth. After about eight to ten years, these individuals will get the yearnings for a mate and so begins their incredible transformation!

After reaching that special age, the female Bone Dragon will begin to leave scent markers on their territory that will catch a viable male's attention. These secretions pretty much announce to any male Bone Dragon that she is ready to mate, and those that come across these markers will hurry to find her. Interestingly enough, it seems that this only works on males that have also reached the proper age, as juveniles seem to ignore these markings. Viable males will track down the female and deal with any other males that are also after her. These disputes, however, are quite rare, as the territory of Bone Dragons are so large that her scent markings will only ever reach the snouts of two or three males. Often, it will be a single male that will find her, and they shall begin courting. During this process, the male and female will take a long time to smell and inspect one another, which probably is how they determine the health and strength of their potential mate. Other behaviors includes rubbing their snouts together and nipping at each other's antenna. If all goes well and the two decide to become mates, the male will climb onto her back and mount her. For this reason, female Bone Dragons have a groove that runs down their back, which are fenced by their dorsal spines. In this groove are two lines of special orifices, with over a dozen of these holes running along each. This is where the male will insert their legs, slowly and carefully settling themselves in the female's dorsal groove. The twin "tails" of the male are inserted into the female's abdomen, where they shall permanently remain. These "tails" are actually aedeagi that are used for reproduction purposes. When the male has finished this act and has settled in, the two will begin to "bond." What I mean by that is that the male and female will essentially fuse together so that their bodies are permanently attached! Special organs located in the female's dorsal orifices will begin to digest the male's legs, melting the exoskeleton so that it fuses with the outer walls. The male will respond by breaking down these limbs from the inside out, using the nutrients to fuel the growth of its nerves. His nervous system will extend into her body and connect with her own system. Their veins will also connect with one another, making it so that the two are practically one! This process is a slow one, often taking days to fully finish. Due to this, the mated pair will go to the female's lair to perform this, so that they are away from predators and the elements. As the process goes on, the female will become sluggish and unresponsive, almost in a state of half sleep. The male will be somewhat drowsy, but he will be lucid enough to react to any creatures that come too close. If you keep a good distance away, the two will hardly notice you, but if you start getting about a stone's throw away, he will most likely spew acid at you. When all is done and the two have fused their bodies together, you will at last get the famous image of the Bone Dragon! The male shall sit upon the female's back, his long body and head giving the impression of a skeletal neck and skull. Her antenna shall be the "wings" and her claws will be the legs. Now bonded, they shall be together for the rest of their lives. The two will work as one to take down prey, stock their cave with food and raise their young. Due to the fusing of their veins and nervous system, the pair work in perfect sync with each other. No one is sure how the two brains are able to function in this way, but you can clearly see that the two move with extreme grace and precision. While the female attacks prey with her claws, the male will easily lash out with his fangs and sharpened legs. Even when spewing acid, her movements will hardly affect his aim. Speaking of acid, remember when I mentioned that it was bright orange and highly caustic? I bet you can guess what that brings to mind when the male is spitting gobs of flesh burning fluid! Back to their connection, the male and female work in perfect unison to become incredible predators. There are hardly any creatures that are able to stand up to these beasts, as they have to fight against two at once! When prey is consumed, both heads shall eat at once. Each have their own set of organs to keep their own bodies going, but their connection helps serve as back up in case of injury. In one case, a fight had severely damaged the mouth of a mated male, which prevented him from eating until it could heal. Despite this injury, he never starved due to the nutrients supplied by the female. She would just eat all the food, and then transfer it through their bonded limbs! So strong is this connection that they are even able to function when one of their brains is destroyed! If the male's head is lopped off, she can still use her nerve connection to control his body and keep things working. If the female is killed, the male can still pilot her limbs so that he can move. Once again, this furthers the idea that Bone Dragons are undead creatures, as warriors who chop off the beast's skull will find that the battle is far from over! Sadly, while the death of the partner does not inhibit their body functions, it does seem to have a detrimental effect. Either their brain is overworked by trying to control two bodies at once, or the partner is grief stricken by the loss of their mate. Which ever it is, Bone Dragons that have lost their mate will live much shorter lives than healthy couples, their own health and strength deteriorating at a faster pace. Once the two have bonded and have sufficiently stocked up on food and fat, they shall get to laying eggs. Due to their arrangement, fertilization is quite simple and the female will lay dozens of sticky eggs. They will be deposited within a bone pile in their cavern, and the parents shall watch over them until they hatch. Once the young emerge, they shall crawl their way to the collected meat that their parents gathered and will gorge themselves. For weeks, the mated pair will bring food for their young so that they can grow big and strong. Once they reach a certain size and age, the young shall leave the cave and venture out on their own. While they do start out at a decent size and strength, many young Bone Dragons will fall to predators before they reach maturity. Very few shall make it to a breeding age, but this is something that this species accounts for. Mated pairs of Bone Dragons will continue to lay eggs and raise young for the rest of their lives, causing them to churn out hundreds, if not thousands, of eggs over their lifetime. With such numbers, it is a guarantee that these parents will eventually have a dozen or so offspring who reach adulthood. Due to this bizarre relationship and their incredible appearance, Bone Dragons are interesting and terrifying creatures to the local populace. One shouldn't be surprised that people find these beasts scary and that they consider them to be quite the menace. With a large appetite and a vicious nature, Bone Dragons can be quite aggressive to anyone they come across, which gives them this nasty reputation. Their young also don't help with this image much, as they are equally hungry for flesh and blood. When the time comes for the young to leave their parents' cave, they can strike the countryside like a ravenous swarm. Herders and farmers who live near Bone Dragon territory may suddenly find their flocks besieged by these hungry tykes, as they instantly zero in on an easy food source. Towns located near their habitat will build fortifications to keep these creatures at bay, and many watchmen will always keep a look out for roaming adults. For a time, these creatures were seen as absolute monstrosities that had to be destroyed, but things recently took a rather interesting turn! After studies were done and word got out that Bone Dragons were pairs that mated for life, the public developed another image for this species. It seems that this fact has created some romance around these creatures, and people find a special symbolism in them. Though still seen as dangerous, Bone Dragons are also seen as romantic figures and symbols of marriage. This has led to gifts and jewelry being made from the carapace of juvenile Bone Dragons. The popular thing to do is to make two identical necklaces, one made from a male and the other from a female, and gift one of them to a loved one. The symbolism of a Bone Dragon seems to resonate the most with wedded warriors and hunters. Two powerful individuals who fight alongside one another in perfect unison, I think that fits pretty well! With all this romance and what not, it has led to an interesting change of heart when it comes to mated pairs. Before it used be that Bone Dragons had to be killed on sight, but now people are more inclined to drive them away but keep them alive. More of an effort is made to repel these beasts and prevent clashes from happening. This way these bonded couples can continue living as one, and the nearby towns can get a bit of tourism from these roaming creatures! Such a tale really warms the body for me, as I am always happy to hear when people become more accepting of those around them! Unfortunately, that only really applies to mated adults. The juveniles are often hunted and culled, as they are pests and they don't really carry that sentimental image. I guess I will take whatever victory I can get! Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------------------------ They have been mentioned practically any time I have written about dragons, but finally here they are! The Bone Dragon species is one that I have been trying to do for a long time, but I finally pulled it off! I really loved the idea of them being arthropods, and the concept of two being one was one I couldn't pass up! I love these guys, but I pretty much say that about anything I make! Also they fill the "skeleton" requirement for any Halloween season!

#monster #creature #dragon #bone dragon #skeleton dragon #art #drawing #arthropod #bone

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spiritionary · 7 years ago

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Fae Facts - Refactored

So I caught wind of a discussion of “Fae facts” that were listed on the web, and what was true and what was not on it, and I’ve decided to write an article about it from the fae perspective…

‘Fae’ range from anything like goblins and imps to the little pixies with the wings that everyone associated with fairies to the seven-foot tall members of the royal courts. some even consider the banshee to be fae. (also trolls, gnomes, elves, djinn, dwarves, leprechauns, will-o-wisps, etc.)

Partially true. There are actually many more fae than mortals can imagine. There are fae unicorns (though not all unicorns are fae), merfolk are fae, there are some mortal species that can become partially fae (like changelings) and there are fae that no mortal has ever even heard of. Additionally other cultures have fae under other names and courts, such as yokai, spirits (tho not all spirits are fae), and others. Fae exist all over the world, in different cultures, with different names, and often their own Courts.

Some think the fae are evil, some think they are fallen angels, but most are considered to be a chaotic neutral force. some might call this ‘whimsically evil.’

False. Angels/Demons and fae are not related. We generally come from nature or Faerie, and the angels and demons are created directly by a divine being for a purpose. Also our ‘alignments’ are all over the map, just like mortals.

Honey makes them drunk.

Mostly False. Honey is the base for honey mead. Honey mead is the base for Faerie wine. Honey has more of an ‘effect on us’, but it doesn’t generally make us drunk. We however do make the Best Wine fron it.

Iron poisons them, as it does many magical beings.

True. Almost all the fae I know have some reaction to iron.

Some were-creatures were probably just fae in disguise, since fae can assume any form.

Somewhat true. Not all fae can shapeshift, but some were-creatures are fae. Not all fae that can shapeshift can take any form, but some can. I can’t take the form of a human (at least as fae), and the number of animals I can turn into… well that’s not unlimited either, but it is alot. Also fae shapeshifters usually have a base form that they prefer. Sometimes that is called their ‘sleeping form’ because some can’t maintain it when they sleep.

They sometimes lure humans with music that makes them want to follow and dance. They have to dance for what feels like a year and a day but it’s actually only seconds.

False. This is the other way around, please see my article on faerie rings. If you enter a faerie ring, and dance for a day, when you exit (on average) a year will have passed. If you have danced with the fae in one of these rings for a year and a day, don’t return to Earth as you’re already dead there.

True names of the fae have power over them. they often use aliases when dealing with non-fae.

True.

Some people are gifted with fae sight, which allows them to see the fae and also sometimes peeks into the future through their dreams.

Partially true. Except that those people who have ‘fae sight’ are usually partially fae themselves. Also it gives no insight into the future. However they are easily able to travel to Faerie in their dreams.

Cats hate the fae, and the fae hate them back.

False. Some fae ride cats around. Some fae become cats, particularly when they want to become a witches’ familiar. Pixies have the most trouble with cats, because cats think they are moths and chase them around. But in general, the cats just want to play, and are not hated by pixies for this.

Iron horseshoes over the door can act as a fae deterrent.

Partially true. Also other things can deter fae, like salt. Why would you want to do this?

They sometimes kidnap human children and leave their own children or elderly behind. these are called changelings.

True. It still happens today. Additionally some fae end up incarnated into mortal bodies, by choice, obligation or force. These are also considered changelings. In a society that denies fae exist for the most part, those changelings may not know about their true nature right away. Changelings and faekin are functionally similar.

Fae are generous with gifts, especially for polite people, but prefer gifts in return.

True. But should this be considered unusual?

That being said, better to avoid accepting gifts. You probably don’t have enough to pay them back. By saying ‘thank you,’ you acknowledge that a gift was given and that you now owe something in return. Being indebted to the fae = bad time.

Partially true. Often mortals do not understand the value of what is given. It will help, if you are going to ask a fae for something, to have the payment already in hand. Then we will know how much of it you want in advance.

Fae can’t lie, but truth and honesty aren’t always the same.

Partially false. Fae can lie, we usually won’t. Not only are lies draining to maintain, but why would we bother? I don’t lie.

Asking for a favor will cause offense. Make it seem like it’s their idea to help you.

Partially true. Don’t just come to us to ask for favors all the time, what would you think about another mortal that did this?

Most things offend them, actually.

Mostly untrue, although the idea that mortals think everything offends us, is offensive…

Some fae can smell a lie. there’s no way of knowing which ones unless they tell you.

True. Actually most of us can tell when we’re being lied to. But again is this unusual?

Fae use ‘glamour’ to hide their appearance or habitations around humans. ‘Glamour’ can be gifted for use by humans.

True. Also you all can learn glamour on your own if you put some effort into it.

It’s better for fae to have half-breed children than no children at all, so relationships with humans are fine. It just rarely works out fine for the human.

Partially true. There are plenty of fae changelings in the mortal realm, even today. But there is very little reason it can’t work out fine for mortals to have these children.

Iron, salt, and bread (any kind) will ward fae away. so will rowan and hazel.

Partially true. Iron, yes; Salt, conditionally yes; Bread, no; Rowan, yes; Hazel, no.

Rowan and iron will ward most bad things away, actually.

And I guess good things too. I don’t like where some of these facts are going.

Ringing church bells at dawn and dusk will drive fae and/or changelings from your village.

Mostly false. Though most of us aren’t a big fan of churches.

Alternately, cream and butter and cakes (not bread!!) will attract them.

? … Well I like cream and butter and cakes. There’s nothing wrong with bread. What were people putting in their bread back in the old days?

They have many names. fair folk, the good people, the gentry, the wee folk. my favorite is the good neighbors.

True. And even more names than that. Humans have 1100 distinct languages and a word for us in most of them.

There are places where the veil between worlds is thinner, and these places see more fae. Ireland is said to be one. transient places (crossroads and bus stops etc.) are said to be another.

True. Also see ‘liminal spaces’.

Musicians are often taken to their world. they may come back but they won’t be the same.

Partially true. Sometimes mortals wander into our world, attracted to what we’re doing. Sometimes musicians hear the music and come. If you come to Faerie long enough, you’ll become fae. It can’t be helped. But there’s really no discrimination.

Adder stones (also called hag stones, witch stones, snake eggs, adderstanes) can reveal fairy or witch traps if seen through the hole in the stone. You can’t trick an adder stone.

Probably true. Though this presumes the fae and witches set traps for humans in the first place…

The fae are highly sexed. Orgies are common.

Mostly true. There are exceptions as always. The fae tend to love first and ask questions later. We can fall in love immediately with someone with a spirit that attracts us. We don’t need your ‘spin-up’ time.

Random body pains were attributed to the fae. this was called elf shot.

Mostly false. Random body pains can be attributed to any type of magick, energetic or psionic attack. Check your shields.

Tangled hair in the morning was also considered their fault. this was called elf locks.

Usually false. Though pixies playing in your hair at night is not unheard of.

Consumption (tuberculosis) was attributed to the fae as well, for forcing young men and women to dance all night.

False. I think this goes without saying.

Basically if you were sick and there was no cure, blame the fae.

LOL. Mortals blame everything on everything but themselves…

Alchemists sometimes called on certain fae to assist them. No word on how well this worked out for them.

True. So do witches. So do other types of magick practitioners. Sometimes we even teach things. It worked out well for most. It depends on whether you want to learn our arts or just depend on us to do our arts for you. Don’t be lazy.

Millers were thought to be ‘no canny,’ which means in league with the fae, owing to their ability to control elements. (fire in the kiln, water for the burn, wind for the mill, general control of machinery)

Mostly true. Except any practitioner of any trade can have a relationship with the fae in their work. The closer to nature you work, however, the more you can expect the fae to be involved.

If you know a fae’s true name, you can summon them at any time to do your bidding. But this is a double edged sword. If they learn your true name, they enslave you right back, and the things they do would be far worse than anything you could think of.

Partially true. No right-minded fae is going to give you their true name. If you find it out, however, and never abuse that power, no harm no foul. If you begin to abuse it, though, then it’s only prudent to learn yours and get you to stop. Most of the people who have formed the foundation of this ‘fact’ abused a fae’s name.

Some myths have lesser fae paying a tithe (a tiende) to their royals. Some myths have them paying this tithe directly to hell.

Partially true. Some Courts have taxes. I mean, castles don’t defend themselves and if courts don’t have reasonable resources to solve the Big Problems then the Court doesn’t really work. This being said, we bear no association with the mortal concept of Heaven or Hell and we certainly do not send energy or mammon to their leadership.

Mortal midwives were sometimes summoned to the fae realm to assist in the birth of another kidnapped mortal woman. They sometimes offer an ointment for use on the baby. if the midwife uses it herself, she will gain fae sight.

Partially true. She will become partially fae. Hopefully that’s what she was going for. If you’re going to do this, at least split it between you and the baby. Why would you want to hurt the baby?

Lesser fae can die or be killed. To witness one of these funerals is bad omen.

Partially true. Its pretty hard to truly kill a ‘lesser fae’. Even changelings spirits will return to Faerie. It’s not impossible though. If you’re witnessing one of these funerals, you’re probably already fae. Take that as you will.

Credit and references are given to the following sites for being the source of this list:

https://faerielore.tumblr.com/post/162470095402/starbiter-some-fae-facts-from-lore-pt-2-pt-1

http://starbiter.tumblr.com/post/157281741328/some-fae-facts-from-lore-fae-range-from-anything

~ @alynnafoxie

---> Have questions? Send them to us at SpiritFAQ!

#faefolk #fae #faeries #neutral #faefacts #factchecking #nature #spirits #submission #alynnafoxie #primcon

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years ago

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My life story - part 14

7th GRADE - beginning of

A few weeks before 7th grade started for me, my mother moved out of the Welfare Apartments – as my father called them, and into Roxanne's father's upstairs. Roxanne moved into the basement. It was the same home he had always lived in. The same home she had married him in nearly 20 years before. So I imagine it was strange. He was getting sicker. I am not sure what he had. Cancer I think. His feet were always swelling up. Because he was a dying drunk nobody came around. He had at one time many drinking friends, but this is generally always what happens to drunks when they die. Everyone disappears, all the fair weather friends – unless they are family and they are looking for money. I think my mom was probably considering this situation as having potential for her own self.

I had always been afraid of Roxanne's father and I tried to stay away from him. The house was creepy as fuck, by the way. I have talked about ghosts off and on in this story of mine so far. I have more ghosts stories yet to unfold. But I will tell you one thing. This house had something very wrong in it. You just felt sick energy in this place. I mostly hung out in the upstairs room, and I started drawing. I had pretty much conquered the Alien Girls by this time. I had created a legendary fantasy map of their entire continent. We made all the places where our millions of girls could live. Fire people lived in the fire area. Tree people lived in the Forest Realm – ecetera ecetera. I ended up finding this big box of bad 70's porn in the closet. I remember finding this magazine that had a closeup of a vagina. I stared at it forever, trying for the life of me to figure out what I was looking at. It was like the eye of a disturbing space alien from an 80's television show, at least I thought so – until it dawned on me. The box of magazines disturbed me more than it made me curious, and I put the magazine away.

There was another room upstairs that was entirely dedicated to Dick's love for pornography I was told later from Roxanne. I never went in there. After a few weeks of this, I told my mom I didn't really want to be there anymore and I was given permission to just stay at my father's during the weekend until she figured out another place to stay. It was at the edge of town – closer to this wheat field area called Tammany. You always felt like something was angry and glaring at you. It just felt weird to be in this dying man's home with evil spirits.

It was my birthday on the 25th of August. I have always resented the date of my birth, because in my part of the world it's hot and dry and awful. And school starts generally if not on that very day – then a few days before or after. This means that most of my birthday presents are actually school supplies. I don't know how many pencil holders I have unwrapped. How many rulers, eraser sets. It's a little disappointing, especially when you get older and you become privy to the shtick.

On the 25 of August, 2001, in a rare turn of events, I was invited to Samantha's home for a sleepover. This did not happen often. Sam didn't really like me, so I didn't get invited over that often. Also, her father just didn't give Sam any breaks at all. He was an alcoholic lawyer (strangely, Dick whom I mentioned above had also been an alcoholic lawyer), and her life was micromanaged. Her grandma lived in another part of the trailer court, and she had nothing better to do than to call Sam from across the way every thirty minutes to make sure Sam was NEVER wasting time. Her father made her work in the garden – they had a rather large garden you could see from the highway, and with that money what he didn't pocket he put in her college savings. Samantha, as the only girl in the house was everyone's maid. She was to keep her room absolutely spotless. Her father's room and her brother's room as well. Her grades had to be 95% or higher or she was grounded. Almost everything she did would cause her to be grounded. There were times when she was staying the night at Sarah's and her father would randomly call and be yelling at her over the phone and make her come home. Her life was so unfair. I know my dad was abusive towards me at times. But honestly, I probably suffered from a lack of structure more than I did an overabundance of authoritarian rigidity.

So it was unusual that I was invited for several reasons, but I was. And it was my birthday so I thought, 'why not?' I was warned that Samantha's fourth cousin – Katie was visiting. Katie, as I was told, was actually in the class above me, but I had never paid great attention to the kids in the class above. I was warned that Katie would be rough with me. And she was. As soon as I got there, she said things like “Who the fuck are you?”. She was very tomboyish. She didn't say things in the valley girl snotty way you might imagine, but more like a trucker who you had pissed off in some dive bar somewhere between here and South Dakota. When we were playing Pokemon Stadium 2, and I was winning at Chansey Egg Catching – or whathaveyou (of course I would win because I had dedicated the previous two years to Pokemon), she called me a bitch and threw the controller at me. I didn't take this all that personal. I was told that this was just the way that Katie was towards new people. But once she liked me, she would be a loyal friend. I shrugged the whole thing off. I wasn't particularly interested in a friend like that.

Sarah-Mae really wanted me to make a good 'cool' impression of myself in our new positions as 7th graders. 7th graders are always given kind of an unfair time. I imagine this is just as true in the 40's as it is today. Everyone scoffs at them. But I mean, at some point everyone has to be a 7th grader, and there has to be a bottom to the school. Not everyone can be a senior. I probably made a terrible impression though, because my mom had these hippie tunics with wild hippie designs on them. I really liked them. I remember being so excited when my mom was packing and she gave them to me. I had always looked at them in her clothing drawer, and always thought they were really cool. They were comfortable, and they actually fit me. And they had all those colors. The rest of the school made a big deal about them though. I guess they bordered on absurd, and each day I wore them Sarah and Samantha made sure I knew that I looked really bad. Peer pressure finally had the best of me, and I put them away for good after a few months.

At the peak of drawing Alien Girls, Sarah and I decided as a group to stop drawing them. The thing was, their eyes were so large and on the side of their heads. You got the very good impression that their eyes swooped around the other side of their skulls, in behind their hair. There was no clear indication that they had a real nose and their mouths were super low. They had no cheekbones. They were designed from the imagination of an eight year old girl, and it would be hard to improve as an artist if I carried on with them. On one angle, they were drawable. But you could never make them look reasonably okay from the side, or at any other angle. Their anatomy left more questions than answers.

So, Sarah had been watching Card Captures Sakura, and I got really intrigued by anime, so we started drawing that instead. My first comic idea was pretty lousy. It was the typical three school girl deal – based on me Sarah and Samantha kind of, where they all get swept into a magic place after school and had to fight evil monsters. I was extremely jealous of Sarah's comic. On one hand, I had always been very good at designing clothes and pretty faces. My first story was no good, but overall, my story lines were more compelling and my character profiles were better developed. But Sarah had a much better concept of drawing movement and facial expressions. She could draw wings, and she could do interesting shadowing. There was something about her art itself that gave it more life than my art did. I grew pretty jealous of her art actually, and this feeling of inferiority set me back quite a few years in the long run. We kept drawing together though.

Sarah's mom moved into a new bigger home. It was an old home, not as old as mine was, but pretty old. It was at the top of the hill that I lived at the bottom of. It was next door to where that old man, Bucky used to live. The back patio looked down over a steep ledge that led one hundred feet more or less straight down to the main road towards the end of town. You could also see the Junior/Senior high school from there (they were one in the same since the community was small). There were rumors that a native American girl had fallen to her death on that ledge in the 20's, and when I looked out the window and really thought about it, I worried that something might erode under the house and cause the building to topple down the cliff.

The house had been the Browns house, so it was a bit gross at first and had to be cleaned up a fair amount. Carol had always been good at renovating places though, so she got it cleaned up quite nicely. My niece, Sagen's uncle on her father's side had killed himself in the front yard we were told back in the 80's. So the place carried with it a sense of disaster. Most of the time it was peaceful, but there were some strange things that happened later on that I will get to at a later time.

Sarah's mom also got a new steady boyfriend. His name was Jim. He was this quiet nervous little man with a round face and a Santaesque beard. Like Carol, he was really into old antiques. He lived in this little hut thing that was part of a brick building in the back streets of Kendrick. He fixed cars to get by in a garage next to his hut. He also did some kind of work out in the woods, but I was never sure what that was. His dream was to someday go prospecting and find a rare precious Idaho gem that would set him up for life. He collected lots of old stuff. He was borderline a hoarder. There was old things all over the outside and inside of his little building. His claim to fame was that he had at one time owned one of the very first Indian motorcycles, and he had sold it to Jay Leno. So Jay Leno had come to our little town. He moved in with Carol when they got together, but he still kept his little hut.

My dad around this time started worrying that I was spending too much time around a 'liberal' adult. My father being a republican, was not too pleased with the fact that Carol was a liberal. In his mind, he seemed to think that she actually had the will and want to indoctrinate me to her political beliefs. My dad listened to conservative talk radio all day. I think in his mind, the world was getting very black and white. In all reality, Carol really wasn't the kind of person to even consider it important. And if she had any will or want to indoctrinate me with anything, I believe she would have indoctrinated me with the common sense not to stomp and speak loudly after she went to bed around 7:00 pm – insanely early, or to wipe my feet before I came into the house. Or perhaps to put my dishes away.

It was the fall of 2001 that my dad got our first computer. Up to that point, I hadn't really known what the internet was. I had heard that it existed, but given that what interested me was mostly doing things in the real world, what I could put on paper or read off one, I didn't see the point in it. My father was given a used computer from my Uncle Bob, who, given his position as a regional super attendant's super attendant, was well familiar with computers and wanted to be able to communicate with our family more. So he gave us his old Window's 98.

My dad actually went to these really corny classes, with the corniest how-to manuals on how to use the computer in the most basic of ways. We went to a local woman's house who facilitated the classes. We actually had to be told that the thing that we used to move the cursor on the screen was called a 'Mouse'. I remember as they told us this, I looked out the window, and there was a cat in their drive way torturing and slowly eating a you guessed it – a mouse. So from then on, I have always associated the computer mouse with that tortured mouse I saw that fall evening of 2001. I had used computers and all, I just hadn't known that the computer mouse was called that.

At first all I really understood was my father's email address. So I figured that you sent letters to someone every single day – that must be something you should do. I started writing my Aunt Sylvia. I didn't really know her at all. I decided to make up this fantasy tale about these brothers and sisters who all had these magic powers and had to get back their places as princes and princesses. She really liked it, and I think this was probably because, though I didn't know it at the time, my aunt Sylvia was obsessed with fairies. Her job was to design those kind of corny fairies that sparkle that people used to put on their websites or personal pages. I also looked at every single Pokemon site I could find. I distinctly remember this website with terrible graphics. You basically just put Pokemon on a frying pan and fried them up. It wasn't really graphic, and it looked more like colors smooshing together. I also found every cheat for my gameboy, and I essentially ruined the game for myself by having too much power.

Samantha had started going to chat rooms to talk to boys. I didn't see the appeal to this at all, but since Samantha was doing it, and Sarah had done it a few times, I decided to do it too. I was the absolute worst. I went into these chat rooms, and I didn't want to tell them I was a twelve year old, so I lied about my age. When they asked me questions, I told them really dumb stupid things. I generally didn't do anything productive or say anything meaningful. I more often than not, would go into a chatroom and do something like say the same stupid word over and over again till everyone in the chatroom was gone. I don't know why I did this really. Once again, power trip I guess.

When I witnessed the first pop-up telling me that we had won a million dollars, I believed it. I remember feeling shocked and almost frightened. I got up and told my father the news. He laughed and let me know that it was just an ad. Again, I also believed the Nigerian Queen who needed to funnel money into the US or something like that. I wholeheartedly believed that queen was in need of help and we would be rewarded handsomely for our troubles. I think my father wanted to believe it, but in the end knew better. I also immediately took to MS Paint. I started drawing pictures to explain my entire day. Usually just three or four moments of the day that really stood out. Like, I forgot to do my homework, or I tripped and fell. I eventually had hundreds of pictures illustrating my life. When we had gotten our first virus, my father deleted all my pictures, foolishly believing that having too many paint pictures saved was somehow the cause of it.

One of the problems I sort of caused with these pictures was – I think I must have had a lot of pent up anger and resentments for Sarah and Samantha by this time. For years, they had told me I was ugly, stupid, annoying. I had been told to shut up I don't know how many times. I felt embarrassed by my very existence. I always felt there was something wrong with me. I distinctly remember Sarah telling someone else that I was more of her dog than someone she would consider a friend. I just carried this ball of self loathing and anger with me at all times. When I was given the power over the computer, I used it to draw ugly versions of both of them. I drew Sarah with a point banana nose and tiny little slanted eyes. I highlighted the fact that she had zits like me, only her's were tiny and colorless, but I made sure that the illustration I did of her came with a magnifying glass to highlight this underlooked fact. With Samantha, I made her eyes bulgy and boyish. I made it so her brain only thought of math. Her face was spotted like a pizza. I drew one of myself – ugly as well, with chubby cheeks, frizzy hair, double chin, stupid big lips and zits as well. These pictures were mean, but I took strange joy in making them. I showed them to Sarah and Samantha. They were upset. I think Sarah almost cried. I think these pictures probably reflected a certain resentment that I wasn't even conscious of at the time. I didn't understand why they were upset. I had gotten very used to their insults. It seemed strange to me that when I found my own way of doing it back to them. I didn't have to say mean things. I could just draw it instead.

My very favorite thing to do though, was to look at anime pictures on a website that doesn't exist anymore. I can't really imagine it now, though I am on tumblr all day sometimes so I should probably not be that shocked with myself, but I honestly loved nothing better than to stare at the same twenty or so anime pictures all day. I somehow didn't tire of this at all. I remember also that I fell in love with the first – and aside from Jack the Skeleton when I was very young- only complete and total cartoon character. It was the main male protagonist on a show called Escaflowne. I never watched the show till I was way older, and I was disappointed and annoyed at the animation when I finally did see it – couldn't even finish the first episode, but for some reason just from seeing some fanart I was totally into this dude – don't know his name now and don't care to look it up. Now, as an adult, and as someone who can draw anime a little bit but doesn't want to anymore, I try very hard not to judge all the young nerdy teenagers who are in love with anime characters and go about drawing them in romantic settings all the time. I try very hard not to judge, but I generally fail and I judge them anyway. However, I have had a few times in my life when I got really interested in anime. I think those spells are over for me now – we'll see. I loved these anime pictures so much that I sometimes would check out and go home early on days when my father wasn't home just so I could have extra time to look at these pictures.

In the eyes of some, this was the beginning of the end for me. I have been addicted to the internet ever since. I found an escape ladder out of reality, into a world with unlimited information and inspiration, where the painful biting reality had lost it's edge, and I was heightened somehow into an ethereal version of the world that I could make for myself. A place where I could express myself freely, or find just about anything I needed, and somewhere that I could avoid feeling anxious. I could be a new person, or a better version of myself. I would go on and off with having access to the internet throughout my young life, but ultimately, I became an addict the second I figured this all out.

A week before our classes started at the new big school, we went to this orientation. We had this freakish man at the time as our principal. I am not the only person who thought he bore a striking resemblance to Hitler. It was hard at the time for most people not to see the comparisons. He had the same mustache. He was twitchy and tried very hard to be commanding, though it came off weak and stiff. He would follow up with nervous laughter. Much thinner than Hitler, and less angry. He wasn't Hitler. That isn't a fair analogy. It is almost never fair to compare someone to Hitler. His name was Mr. Hendrickson. Naturally, he didn't grow too fond of me over the years.

I had to give up band. I really loved playing the bass drum. Was I great? No. I was okay. I had played the instrument for two or three years. Samantha was the snare drummer, and she actually was very talented. And it was the one thing that Samantha and I had in common. She ordinarily didn't like me, but when we played drums in the back of our band practices every other day, we were basically friends just as we had been as kindergartners. I had wanted to stay in high school band, but there was already a bass drummer and he had seniority over me. Plus, he actually was talented. I was not particularly talented. Samantha was accepted as a drummer, and Sarah – who had always played the clarinet stayed in band. They tried to put me in choir – but I protested, which was understandable since the very thought of singing in a group was horrendously embarrassing to me. The eventually put me in a Study Skills class.

Study Skills was run by a very tall square headed, plain looking man who had this threatening vibe, but was probably the calmest and most boring fellow who ever worked in that school. Mr. Forestman. The only thing that seemed to get his goat was when you called him Mr. Foreskin. He was actually just the basketball coach. He just overlooked the Study Skills class as an extra detail. We were given planners. All we had to do was demonstrate that we used our daily planners and the rest of the time we could use to do homework or to chat. It was in this class that I got to learn the more juicier details of my classmate's lives, and the lives of different kids in the school in general. There was a group of boys, and a group of girls. I sat alone at the weird person table in the corner by myself and drew. He didn't like it when I drew, and would tell me to stop sometimes. I am pretty sure I didn't use any of this time wisely. I would mostly listen to them gossip. I had no idea my classmates were having so much drama. I had been caught so deep in my own Alien Girl – anime girl land that I didn't realize.

One day this crazy fellow walked into the Study Skills class. I had heard him being talked about for years of my life. Everyone said he was crazy. And yet, I had never actually taken a look at him before – at least not consciously. I wasn't even sure if he was a student or not at first. His name as people called him was Double D. His real name was Daniel. But almost nobody but a few of the more sensitive teachers called him by his real name. He had facial expressions that were always shocking. His mouth stretched across the entirety of his face. His eyes were giant and bulged and black. He never seemed to blink. He spoke in a loud overly pronouncing voice. It was the voice that someone would make if they were to imitate a geek, only more extreme. He used phrases you might hear an elderly person make. Like, you knew the phrase, but nobody in high school would ever describe something in that way. Every single thing about this guy was weird. His movements seemed unnatural. He also wore women's matching sweaters and sweater pants. And he had a cape. He wore a cape half the time he came to school. He also had one of those small cd holders you put on the mirror holder thing in your car. He wore it on his hand like a super hero. And when he went through the hall way between classes, it was really something else.

He came in this one day, and I could barely believe this guy existed. He claimed that he was psychic, and had telekinetic powers. He told people this daily. He also said he was a karate master. And he was a super saiyan. He really believed these things were true. It was weird seeing this guy. Of course I judged him, but he was alarming and I didn't feel the need to give him problems. There were plenty of people in the school and in the town who liked to pick on him. It was strange because up to that point I had been somewhat certain that I was the biggest freak. Apparently, compared to some I was normal, painfully. Double D came in when the teacher wasn't there this early evening. He challenged a boy in my class, Corey to 'BE A MAN' and to fight him to the death. Double D warned him in all loud seriousness with not a tinge of humor in his facial expression that he could explode Corey's mind. I remember Double D went on to do some kind of strange air kick. It was truly a sight to behold. Corey ducked Double D's strange movements laughing boyishly and hysterically. All the boys were laughing. The cheerleader girls in the other corner laughed nervously. I just stared on in disbelief. This was my first, and not last introduction to Double D in the years as a high school student. So this guy was the school freak. I would always be one of the weird ones for sure, but this guy would always outdo me.

I didn't really know how to feel about high school. Technically it was still junior high. And we were still taking a few classes at the elementary school for some reason. But since the junior and senior high schools were one in the same, it was strange to be in this new atmosphere. The teachers seemed a little more lenient. Teachers in the elementary school were a bit caught up in their positions. You got the feeling that they didn't trust you to be able to tie your own shoes. They were very controlling. If they had to deal with the older kids in this climate, they would have lost their minds. Between classes was pure chaos. There was one hallway and everyone's lockers were on it. For someone with the anxiety that I had, it was hard for me to even think straight. It was basically like being dunked into freezing water every forty-five minutes. I was always in a state of shock. The fear I felt when I at first could not find my locker was unbearable. It was hard to believe that I had made it this far. Roxanne and Maria had gone to school here. But it always had seemed to me that I would always be a child, and the day where I too was to do my time as a high school student would never come. Strange too, the seniors were all enormous to me still. The hallway smelled like football player sweat – quite unpleasant, random smells of perfume, books, the smell from the lunch room of the cheapest food imaginable, generally something brown in a big vat with gravy on it. And underneath that, for me at least, I could smell anticipation, fear, sex, chaos, the thoughts of thousands of people who had come before – not just the students that were there then. I was overwhelmed. It was all too much. Too many people. I figured it out somehow, almost.

The one thing I did like about this new high school thing was after school every Thursday, from 3:15 when the school bell rang till somewhere between five and seven – we got to go to Art Club. Art Club was ran by a woman named Ms. Fiske. She never really liked me all that much, but she seemed okay with me. She really enjoyed Sarah more. This didn't actually bother me, despite my inferiority issues at the time. Mrs. Fiske was extremely unstable. You could tell by the way she laughed. Her moods were up or down. She would get mad and she would frantically begin talking in a way that nobody could understand. Once a month she would scream and cry at us when we took art class. But Art Club was totally worth it. You could never really hate Ms. Fiske because she had set up a place where I sort of belonged. She was more than generous with her supplies as well. We never had to pay for anything. She brought cookies and soda, and we would listen to music and make art. The canvases were free, the paint was free, the freaking clay was free, and there was a kiln we could use and that was also free. Sarah and I would go every Thursday. Usually it would be about five to ten other students. Generally they were either older art nerds, or maybe even a football player or a girl's basketball girl who had a secret artsy side.

It was one thing I really did enjoy. Several times in my years at that school, the principals and teachers tried to ban me from being able to go to Art Club, but they never succeeded. For this, I really didn't care if Ms. Fiske secretly didn't like me or get my art. I mean, I think it bothered me later on a little. But it was never that bad because she made Art Club happen.

To be continued. And if you are interested in this and want to catch up, here are the other parts i have written thus far.

PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s

PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94

PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84

PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

#text #life story

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elyvorg · 8 years ago

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The Savers cast if they had Adventure’s crests

I like thinking about Savers, and after thinking about it enough I found that the seven original crests from Adventure (not counting Light because that's not a character trait; I never understood that one) fit quite nicely with seven of the most prominent Savers characters. So here's my headcanons for them. Based on my understanding of crests as follows: the character trait that the bearer may have had trouble with throughout their development, but ultimately the trait that means the most to them and that they end up embodying the most.

Explanations of why I think each crest fits each character under the cut! (Light on explicit spoilers because everyone who hasn't watched this series should.)

Masaru - Sincerity

I know what some people are thinking: "Masaru should be Courage because he's the main protagonist!" - but here's the thing. Courage is doing a thing despite being afraid of it. Masaru is technically almost never courageous, because he's more afraid of not fighting than he is of fighting and possibly getting hurt, no matter how insanely powerful the enemy is.

So why Sincerity? This crest is all about being thoroughly, unashamedly yourself no matter what, never beating around the bush or bothering with superficial, shallow nonsense. And if you think about it for a moment, that's Masaru to a T. He's straightforward and simple-minded, always speaking and acting exactly how he feels. His tendency to want to FIGHT EVERYTHING EVER is simply because from his perspective that's the purest, most no-nonsense way of dealing with a problem, and no matter how many times other people tell him he's being ridiculous and overzealous, he doesn't change this part of himself for anyone. This trait is also a significant part of Masaru's deeply-rooted concept of manliness, which has very little to do with gender and isn't really about physical strength either. It's more about the way you act, sticking to your convictions no matter what life throws at you.

It's implied that before he met Agumon, Masaru really was more obsessed with superficial physical strength and fighting people just to shallowly prove that he's "the strongest". Throughout the series, not only does he learn that there's more to real strength than that, but he says that after meeting Agumon he realised that fighting people can be a way to get to understand each other, to learn who they truly are and show them who you truly are and how you really feel. It would have taken nothing less than that to convince a god to change its mind about destroying the world.

Tohma - Love

Everything about Tohma is shaped by either his love for members of his family or by him feeling unloved by other members of his family. He deeply misses his deceased mother and the warm, loving, home they had, which is starkly contrasted by the cold formality of his father's estate - his father who seemingly only cares about the family name and not about him. Sure, Tohma has "knowledge" by virtue of having a doctorate at the age of fourteen, but he did that - and went to even greater extremes in the series itself - all so that he could save his beloved little sister. And, of course, he does eventually come to realise that his father actually does love him and was just showing it in a bad way, much like Sora and her mom in Adventure.

Yoshino - Reliability

Yoshino's arc, short as it is, revolves around her feeling useless and inferior compared to everybody else. What she needed to realise is that while she might not be as strong as Masaru or as smart as Tohma, they're still glad to have her around and there's things she can do that no-one else can. She's the only one on the team old enough to drive, for one thing, which comes in handy a lot, as well as her providing support in various other ways even though she's rarely the key participant in a fight. According to Lalamon, she's a total slob in her home life, but we never see this from her working at DATS - so apparently she puts in a lot more effort when others are counting on her.

And when Masaru is trying to fight a freaking boat and Tohma is using his "intellect" to produce a ~magical scientific spray~ that'll make the invisible Digimon visible when a simple bag of flour or something would have sufficed, who's the one actually being useful and providing a speedboat and grappling hook so that Masaru can get onto the boat to fight the invisible Digimon? Yoshino is. She's got those doofuses' backs.

Ikuto - Friendship

Since Falcomon had to give Ikuto an big heartwarming speech affirming their friendship when he'd become convinced that no-one needed him, it seems that when we first met Ikuto, he wasn't really aware of the extent to which Falcomon - his lifelong companion - was his friend. Perhaps he'd gotten too caught up in the notion of being a "warrior" after Yukidarumon's death to think about happy, normal things like friendship? Plus, of course, he initially hated humans and would have balked at the idea of ever becoming friends with one, but then Masaru took him in and treated him like a friend and taught him normal silly friend things like having pillow fights. By the end of the series he's taking hits for Masaru specifically "because you're my friend" and giving impassioned speeches to the big bad about how they'll win because they have friends! which, yes, kind of cheesy, but damn if he doesn't believe the hell out of it despite how he started off, and it's adorable. (And, you know, he's not exactly wrong, since the power of friendship = the power of emotions = Digisoul = actual strength, so.)

Plus, Ikuto and Falcomon's character song is literally called "Friendship!", so there's that.

Suguru - Knowledge

Otherwise known as the crest which should really be called Curiosity, because that's the actual character trait it embodies. Suguru was apparently some kind of professor of Digimon before Digimon were even officially known to be a thing. He went to the digital world because he wanted to know the unknown, never once acting like the missing people they went there to find were his main reason to be there. He figured out how Digisouls work and designed the Digivices to better channel that power, making this the only series in which Digivices were created by a human. (I'm pretty sure? Don't quite remember how they were made in Tamers, and haven't yet watched Appmon.) As far as Suguru is concerned, that curiosity is what being a man is all about.

Chika - Hope

Chika was the first one to voice the notion that maybe humans and Digimon could just be friends and not have to fight each other all the time. She keeps holding onto the hope that she can be with Piyomon despite how everyone else is against it, and later the hope that Piyomon is still himself even when he's clearly not. When that comes to an end and she loses him, rather than dwelling on her sadness, she's just glad that he doesn't have to suffer any more. And even though she was too young to have any of her own memories of her missing father to back up the idea that he's not the kind of person who'd just abandon them, she still always believed he would come back one day.

Sayuri - Courage

Yes, she doesn't actually have a Digimon partner, but she fit the remaining crest so well that I had to include her. Sayuri's already lost her husband to the digital world and couldn't bear to lose her children too - when she first sees Agumon, she must have been terrified that this means Masaru might soon disappear into the digital world just like his father did. Yet she smiles, takes Agumon in, cooks him fried eggs and basically goes "welp, guess I've got a third child now". A less brave parent would have tried to send him away, but more important to Sayuri than her fear is letting her son be happy. The same applies halfway through the series when Masaru is heading to the digital world to save it - she's terrified of losing him, but she knows how badly Masaru wants to do this and how much he'd resent her if she tried to stop him, so she just nods and tells him to be careful. Her courage almost faltered earlier when Chika got involved and Sayuri tried to ask that she be kept out of it, but by the end she has no choice but to let her daughter fight with Piyomon too.

#digimon #digimon savers #masaru daimon #tohma h norstein #yoshino fujieda #ikuto noguchi #suguru daimon #chika daimon #sayuri daimon #character analysis #digimon adventure crests #ramble

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mythicamagic · 8 years ago

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Diabolik Fairy Tales - Chapter 4

AU - The Diabolik Lovers re-imagined as fairy tale characters. Each chapter will feature a different diaboy, as their dark natures become entwined with the original macabre fairy tales of the past. Includes smut with a nameless heroine (slight reader insert)

Rated M Trailer is here (you can read all my fics here on fanfiction.net or Ao3)

Chapter 1 - Yuma Mukami Chapter 2 - Shuu Sakamaki

Chapter 3 - Kanato Sakamaki Chapter 4 - Ayato Sakamaki

Chapter 5 - Ruki Mukami Chapter 6 - Laito Sakamaki

Chapter 7 - Azusa Mukami Chapter 8 - Reiji Sakamaki

Chapter 9 - Kou Mukami Chapter 10 - Subaru Sakamaki (end)

Special thanks to @fyeahdialovers for this one. I owe you big time for all your editing help and Ayato advice ^^

Hair like Ribbon ~

An announcement had been made, by the king himself, regarding the fate of the land he'd ruled over for more than thirty years. Subjects had flocked to the courtyard. Peasants mixed with nobles. All desperately shoved to the front of the crowd, straining to hear the news. Once the last word was uttered, gossip spread like wildfire.

For reasons not divulged, the king would be abdicating the throne early, passing it down to one of his six sons. The kingdom had been expected to fall into the hands of the eldest, so this news shocked many in the lower rings. For the upper-class, it came as no surprise, considering Prince Shuu's infamous lethargy. Yet the conditions that the princes had to meet, in order to be selected, gave everyone pause.

The six sons would have to leave the castle and search for a priceless treasure. It would be paramount to any other held within the royal treasury. Whoever brought back the 'best' object, would gain the crown.

People interpreted this in many ways. Perhaps a dragon egg would win? Or a rare spell? Maybe even a captured magical creature.

Prince Ayato was practically bursting with joy. This was the chance he'd been waiting for his whole life. It was a simple task, cut and dry, and for once he was actually thankful to his bastard of a father. Why the fool had done it made little sense, but he wasn't going to complain. Suspicions be damned, he was winning this thing.

As the third in line for the throne, yet eldest of the triplets, he'd always been pulled in different directions for where his place should be. But now he had an answer to everything, and competition was something he excelled at.

Grinning viciously, he mounted his horse and set off into the remote wilds of his father's kingdom.

He'd never had a chance to prove himself in such a clear way before, so he didn't think much of riding all day and night in search of a spectacular find. Of course, he would have to bring something cool back, worthy of himself. He thought briefly of his brothers, and the conversation he'd shared with Laito.

"Let me guess, the buzzkill is gonna search for a lame plant of some kind." He'd sneered, eyes on his older brother, who was pouring over maps some distance away.

Laito had laughed lowly. "I wouldn't underestimate him, Ayato. I've heard delicious little details of what he got up to with the Mage's Dark Magic book."

"Tch." Ayato leaned back, frowning over his own map.

"How about you?" Laito's eyes had gleamed with interest.

"Like I'm gonna say. What if you steal my great idea?"

"I'm wounded that you would think so low of me, brother. Especially since I won't be participating in this farce. It'll be more fun to watch you all struggle."

Ayato frowned to himself as he urged his horse on. He didn't want to be manipulated by his father, but this was the easiest way to get what he wanted. And why wouldn't someone want the crown? Well, Ayato hardly cared what motivations his brothers had. He needed to win, that was all.

After dismounting, he cursed foully, complaining over saddle sores.

He'd heard rumor about a rare stone, located deep within the Eastern Forest. Alchemists had coveted it for some time, yet were unable to find any trace of it. That probably had something to do with its location, as the forest was infamous for trapping weary travelers within its many twists and turns.

A part of him longed for a servant to order around, but pride demanded that he brave the woods alone. Subaru had also set out by himself, with nothing but his fists and the clothes on his back.

Ayato snorted, swinging his sword through the dense undergrowth that blocked his way. He tugged his horse forward, gripping the reins tightly. It pulled against his hold, becoming more skittish and frightened the deeper they went into the forest.

"Oi, don't go wussing out on me. You belong to a great prince, have some pride! It's gonna reflect badly on me if you get all jittery from a bunch of twigs."

His horse continued to yank at the reins. Ayato rolled his eyes, glancing at the sky and feeling some of the sleep he'd put off start to creep into his tired body. He wasn't one for camping, though the idea of roughing it on his own had initially been exciting. Yet now that the situation was in front of him, Ayato wished that he'd stopped by a peasant's house before entering the forest, demanding shelter.

With night descending quickly, he made a fire and grabbed the half organised pack from his horse, sitting down on the grass heavily. He'd been walking through the Eastern Forest for some time now, with no trace of the rare stone anywhere. It was meant to be found in a glade, and could grant a person some kind of immense power. He wasn't worried though, he'd find it soon enough. Ayato rubbed his head, wearied as he took a swig from his water pouch.

He'd be happy just for a bed right then, or a hot meal. The leftovers in his pack had been eaten a little too quickly.

Just as he was about to settle in for the night, a rustle caught his attention. He sat up, thinking he's seen something in the shadows up ahead, a figure flitting through the trees. Quickly rising, he staggered from headrush, before grabbing his sword. He then glared at his horse.

"You better be here when I get back." He warned, before turning and running after the figure.

As he ran, knocking the bushes aside and roughly scraping his shoulder against a tree, he thought to himself that the figure must've been a hermit.

When the stranger came into view, just barely visible from the dimly lit sky, Ayato stopped, crouching low. He squinted as the figure's hood drew back to reveal an old hag, aged and haggard. She kept walking, and Ayato followed, curious.

His feet eventually stopped dead. Green eyes slid up to stare at a tall tower. It was made of aged white bricks, and stretched up into the darkening sky, standing alone among the trees.

A flash of memory resounded in his mind, that of building blocks piled high, but Ayato shook the thought away furiously. He crept closer, watching as the hag walked to the base of the tower which had no entrance, calling up to the high window:

"Rapunzel! Let down your hair!"

To his surprise, a large fall of hair, twisted into a braid, swung down from the tower's only window. The hair was impossibly long, hitting the floor and pooling into a heap.

The old hag grabbed the braid and used one of the many ties adorning the locks as a foothold. Ayato stared, amazed as the hair began to slide up. He heard grunting, and the sound of something turning up above, like a crank, as the hag ascended into the air. She rose up to the tower window, before disappearing from sight.

Ayato stood there for a long while. Minutes slipped by, and as they did, his lips curled up at the edges, spreading wider to reveal teeth.

Some time after the hag descended, walking off into the gloom of the forest, he stood below the tower window. Reiterating the words that had caused the hair to fall, satisfaction puffed up inside him as it fell down into heap at his feet.

Mimicking what the hag had done, he was surprised to find that the hair was soft and sleek in his hands. He gripped the strands tight as the hair slid up, grunts of effort reaching his ears and the sound of a crack drawing closer. He glanced below at the ground, refusing to acknowledge the way sweat pricked the back of his neck, and instead focusing on the adrenaline that pumped through his veins.

The girl's eyes flew wide and disbelieving at the image of a stranger climbing through her window. Instead of wrinkles, or frail, weathered bones beneath a sweeping cloak, there was a lithe, athletic build, smooth skin, and a bright shock of red hair.

This person was a man. She'd never laid eyes on one before, but had heard plenty, as the old woman had a penchant for seizing every opportunity to gripe about them.

His lips curled up, and a pleasant voice rang out. "Yo." He said nonchalantly.

She blinked, heart stuttering with fear as she stared uncertainly. "U-um, hello?"

He leaped down from the window, before standing tall. "The name's Ayato Sakamaki."

Amazed, she stuttered, before introducing herself. The man's keen green eyes swept down her figure with interest. He then stepped forward and put his hands on his hips, sizing up her home. "So what's the story with this place; You live here?"

"Y-yes. Sorry but, I'm not sure you should be here. Does my mother know about this?" She glanced uncertainly at the window.

"Huh? I can go wherever I please. You happen to be talking to a Crown Prince." He jabbed a thumb at his chest, smirking as her eyes widened. Cherished memories spent pouring over fairy tales warmed her heart, and when she looked at him again, it was with a new light that went completely ignored by him. "Anyway, the tower doesn't really matter. What's the deal with your hair?"

Her eyes dropped to the fall of locks that were spun around the room, hanging from the rafters and wrapped around her bed posts like a monstrous snake. "Oh...I've never been allowed to cut it, or go outside." She fiddled with a piece of it, tucking the strand behind her ear. She shouldn't have been answering a stranger's questions, but if he was a prince then it felt only natural to.

"Ha? Seriously?"

When she nodded, he grinned, moving uncomfortably close. His green eyes were alight with something indiscernible but intense. She felt like shrinking under that keen stare, but having endured her mother for years, her feet remained firmly rooted in place."You've never been outside?"

"I was brought here when I was twelve. But my mother...she told me to forget about everything that came before then."

"Heh, and how much do you know about the world? Not much, I'm guessing." Prince Ayato peered at her. "Hmm, maybe if the hair thing isn't impressive enough, I can sell you as 'The Airhead Girl.''

"Sell?!" She sputtered.

"Figure of speech. Don't worry, I'll be sure to keep you close when we leave." He waved off her concern dismissively, as if batting a fly.

Her eyes shot wide. "But I barely know you, and I-I can't! I'm not even supposed to be talking with you."

He laughed, sounding young and carefree. It was so fresh and new she couldn't help but be drawn in by it. "Yeah, and your keeper has done a fine job of hiding you away. Really, I applaud them. But-" He bent close to her face, his scent filling her nose. It was spicy, overwhelming, and yet, somewhat inviting. "If you cared about that, you'd have obeyed them and not said a word to me when I climbed in, right? But you've been nothing but chatty. I think you wanna leave. You want to know what you're missing out on."

Her hands fretted at her sides, and she wet her lips, heart leaping when his eyes followed the action. His voice dropped, looking down at her hungrily. "I have a pretty good idea of why your guardian chose to lock you away."

She frowned, "You do? Why?"

Something in his laugh mirrored that of her mother's. Cruel and low. "Ahh...you're gonna be tons of fun." He leaned away, smiling to himself.

The girl didn't know what to make of his words, and stood lost in thought for a moment.

"Would you like a drink?" She suddenly blurted, remembering the manners an etiquette book had taught her.

He rose a brow, blinking in confusion, before shrugging.

Though she would loathe to admit it to her mother, in fear of punishment, the girl had allowed the prince to stay for the night. He'd slept in a tangle of limbs on her bed, having claimed it earlier as the most comfortable surface, and therefore, the only surface he would be sleeping on.

She'd acquiesced, but had stayed awake longer than he had. His snores were loud at first, but after turning over, he'd quieted into hushed breaths, frowning in his sleep. She knew this because she'd stayed attuned to him throughout the night. Without realizing it, she'd watched him from her position on the sofa, wondering about everything beyond the tower.

"When I win, I get the throne!" He'd bragged, before sobering and staring at her. "You'll definitely be the key to victory."

"Oh I don't know...is long hair really that impressive?"

"If I say so, then it is! I've stepped on it five times already. You'll win me the crown for sure, and then I'll-" He seemed to withdraw into himself for a moment. "I'll cast that guy into the streets, or better yet, kill him. Heh, I wonder which would hurt more?"

She didn't mind helping him achieve his goal of being crowned King, but the anxiety of leaving the tower kept her from sharing his enthusiasm. When sunlight began to peak in from her only window, the girl rose. She hesitated by her bed, gazing down at the prince with a small smile.

Another person in her home, whether or not it was a noisy one, was something she couldn't help but be enraptured by. Mother never slept in the tower. She couldn't remember seeing another person so unguarded, or hearing their breathing fall so quiet.

She made him breakfast and woke him up with a careful nudge to his leg. She didn't complain when he ate half of her meal in retaliation for waking him. As she cleared the plates away however, panic was starting to creep into her hands, making them shake.

She didn't want him to leave. To be left alone again after one night of company felt sickening.

"Rapunzel! Let down your hair!"

The girl turned, eyes wide as she stared at the tower window. "She's back." Her throat became dry, and she quickly looked at the prince.

"Heh, so what are you gonna do now?" He asked, utterly calm, not worried in the slightest.

The need to escape had always been there, lurking in the back of her mind. Some days it was pitched into a low hum, barely noticeable, but today, it sang in her veins. A longing for freedom. For wide open spaces, where she could breath in fresh air and talk with people, to live like they did.

She became aware of the prince's proximity, as he drew close to her from behind. ""Hey, don't you feel lucky I found you?"

"Yes." She whispered, moving her hair over her shoulder and sliding it into the pulley system automatically.

"That luck will have been useless if you stay, but at least nothing will change, right?"

His words opened a cavern in her heart, her stomach twisting like the fall of her hair as it plummeted to the ground. There was a tug, signalling her guardian had stepped on.

She began to pull, barely feeling the strain of her muscles from years of her practiced art. Nothing will change.

Horror numbed her fingers, making her hands freeze mid-pull.

"Rapunzel? What's going on?" Came a disgruntled voice, confused as to why she'd stopped.

The girl inched forward, until she stood overlooking the edge of the tower, staring right into the eyes of her mother. Realization slowly dawned on the hag's face as she held onto the hair, swinging in the slight breeze.

"R-rapunzel? Why are you looking at me like that? Pull me up. Now."

She swallowed. "I know my parents were foolish people, and what happened between you was a 'fair' exchange. But...but why did you keep me up here for so long, mother? Why must I always be alone?"

"I-its for your own safety! Come now dear, you know the world of men is dangerous. Let me up and we can enjoy a nice brew together-"

"I don't care, mother." Her voice wavered. She tensed as Ayato chose that moment to lean around her. The heat of his chest pressing against her back sent butterflies scattering in her stomach.

He laughed, judging the distance between the hag and the ground with a grin. "That's quite a drop, huh?"

The hag's eyes snapped wide, mouth falling open. "F-foolish child! What have you done, inviting the company of a man into your midsts?"

"I don't care. Whatever dangers there are, I would rather face them. Better that than enduring one more day stuck in this- this prison!" The girl yelled, her fingers trembling.

"Stupid, ungrateful child! How dare y-"

Rapunzel's eyes widened as her grip slackened. Never in all her years had her grip failed. And yet she watched with a numb sort of fascination as the threads of hair passed through her fingers. The hag screamed. Slack hair was still clutched tight in her gnarled hands, fluttering like a kite's tail as she fell to the earth.

A sickening thud broke the spell.

The girl stared, breaths coming in short, gasping pants. She'd let go. She'd...killed Mother.

"Whoa, dropped like a stone, didn't she?" He glanced at her, before seeing her expression and sighing. "Well, come on. Don't wanna hang around here forever." Ayato muttered, grabbing her loose hair that hung over the side, pulling it back up like a rope.

He made no comment on the broken ends, most likely torn off by the Mother's hand. Instead, he stepped inside the tower, gathering the strands into an incredibly large bundle and stuffing them inside a sack. The girl stood frozen in the window, staring down at the body that lay below.

"Oi!" His voice was suddenly close to her ear, and she jumped, quickly staggering back from the edge and bumping into him. He shoved the sack into her arms and gestured behind him.

"Do you need anything else, or can we get a move on?"

She glanced dazedly around the suddenly too small room. It was packed near to bursting with fairy-tales and little knickknacks that had amused her for years. Her first pictures hung on the wall, some of handprints that she'd smeared onto paper as a toddler.

Instead of giving her comfort, the childish possessions now disturbed her more than anything. The need to leave, and never lay eyes on them again rose like bile in her throat.

She turned to him, desperate for assurance. "Once I win you the crown, what will happen to me afterwards?"

Ayato blinked, before smirking, eyes unreadable. "Let me worry about that."

His cryptic answer did nothing to inspire trust, but she nodded, uncertainty clinging to her like a second skin. "I don't need anything. Let's go, please."

After setting her feet on solid ground, the girl had once fantasized that she would enjoy it, celebrate it like a momentous feat. But in reality, she'd quickly made light of it in favor of moving as quickly away from the broken body of her mother as soon as possible.

Ayato remained unruffled as he strode forward, leading the way through the forest and away from the lonely tower. Rapunzel glanced behind her just once before it was lost from sight.

As they walked, she remained silent, lost in memories. The story of how she'd been traded as a baby in exchange for vegetables had been recited to her ever since she was young. While she knew that her mothe- captor, hadn't loved her, she'd still felt a degree of affection for the old woman.

Ayato's boisterous laughter startled her from her heavy thoughts.

"So you decided to stick around, huh? Knew you'd make the right choice."

She glanced up, stopping dead at the sight of a large animal. "I-is that a horse?"

Ayato patted the steed, grinning. "Sure is. Ah, you never seen one before?"

"I don't remember, but I've seen pictures in my books." Her arms tightened around the sack in her hands. The horse towered over her in height.

"Ohh, then you know all about them then, huh? Like the fact that they like to bite people's hands off?"

She blinked, gaze snapping to his deadly serious features. "Huh?"

"Oh yeah, they love to nibble on delicate young ladies hands the most. When prisoners are executed at the castle, we make sure to save the hands for the horses."

"K-keep it away!" She backed away when he drew close, grabbing her around the waist. She struggled for a moment, feeling herself being lifted into the air.

Ayato set her on the horse, lifting himself up and sitting down in the saddle in front of her. "Heh, don't fuss, idiot. Here you can hold on to me." He grabbed her arms and placed them around his waist, leering at her. "Make sure to grab on real tight-ack! Not that tight!"

After loosening her hold, he clicked his tongue. The horse started forward, quickening from a walk to a trot. When her hands made fists in his shirt, he laughed, and urged the beast on, until they were galloping through the trees at a breakneck speed. The girl kept a firm hold of the sack under her arm, though large strands of hair escaped and blew out into the wind, lashing behind them.

She pressed her face against his shoulder blades, feeling the air chill her bones. Yet she was grateful for the trembling of her shoulders, the bite of cold on her nose. Eventually the forest opened out into farmlands, and she drank in everything with starved eyes.

Ayato smirked to himself as her chest pressed against his back, feeling her racing heartbeat.

Both were hardly aware of the time that passed before the castle came into view. Her arms tightened around his waist as they rode through the main gate. She looked around them wearily, staring at the strangers that haggled their wares.

The prince glanced up at the castle by chance, setting eyes on a certain figure. Immediately, his good mood scattered. Karlheinz stood on the topmost balcony of the castle, overlooking the bustle of the courtyard. Ayato tensed, limbs turning rigid when those patronizing eyes turned their sights on him.

The girl patted his side lightly, "Who is that man?" She asked innocently.

Ayato kept his gaze upward. "You just keep your eyes on me. Don't concern yourself with anyone else. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

Karl Heinz's eyes slipped past him to the girl, and Ayato swiftly turned the horse, heading towards the stables. Something hung low and heavy in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you mean: You have to present me?"

"Just what I said! Geeze, don't you listen when people talk? I have to show what treasure I brought back for this ceremony thing."

There wasn't anything she could say when he'd already explained the reason she'd been welcomed into the castle. Then I really am like some sort of object…

Ayato sighed and tugged on a strand of her hair. She winced just as he grinned sharply. "I took care of you didn't I? You should show me a little gratitude."

The girl nodded quickly. "I am grateful you helped me escape the tower, more than you'll ever know."

He frowned down at her, as if puzzling over her answer. Finally, he loosened his regal clothing, tugging the material out until it was comfortable and scruffy. "Hm, as you should be." Once he was satisfied. he grabbed her by the arm and tugged her out onto the waiting stage.

The ceremony had been held before a large crowd. Each of the brothers had stood, presenting their finds to the kingdom, all the participants seeming annoyed. Putting on a show wasn't in their tastes, though Ayato certainly enjoyed the attention from the crowd. When it was his turn, he bid her to wave, and the girl smiled shyly, standing a bit behind him.

Ultimately, his confidence grew on her, to the point that she felt herself straighten up, engaging in bouts of eye contact. It felt so alien, to be around so many after being alone for so long, but his presence was assuring.

After the ceremony, Karlheinz announced that the winner would be selected the following day. Ayato griped and nagged, trudging along to dinner without noticing the girl trailing behind him.

She sat still during the feast, her eyes flitting from one guest to the next, before finding someone bent close to her face. "Oh~ Who's this?" A pleasant voice asked, his green eyes, though darker, struck a familiar chord with her.

"Are you one of Ayato's brothers?" She hadn't been able to see or interact with them during the ceremony, having stayed glued to Ayato's side.

"How cute, you refer to him without a title! Fufu, have you gone that far already?"

Although clueless, she was beginning to understand the gist of his words from the blush painting his cheeks. "H-how far?" The question slipped out without her consent.

"Oh you know~" The man drew closer, making her shrink back in her seat. "All the way." He purred, eyes raking down her form.

"Oi, Laito! Buzz off already, she's mine."

Laito chuckled, but none the less moved away, smiling at Ayato. "So Reiji brings back a rare gem of necromancy, Subaru coughs up an old artifact, and you bring back... a girl, is that right brother?"

Ayato grumbled in his seat. "She's not a normal girl, she has the longest hair ever. Besides I wasn't about to waste my time in a forest looking for some dumb rocks."

"I don't blame you. A woman is worth far more than any other treasure, and has a thousand other uses." Laito was saying, but it went mostly unheard.

The girl wasn't paying attention any more. Her eyes had risen from the feast, connecting by chance with that of the King's. Though he sat at the end of the long, ornate table, he stared at her with a fixated heat that bridged the distance. She felt stifled under that gaze.

His pale lips tilted up, the slight wrinkles under his eyes creasing.

She found herself replaying that single moment in her head, long after dinner had ended and she'd retired to her bed. Before sleeping, she locked the door of her room, not understanding where the need had arisen from.

Despite public expectation, the announcement that followed the ceremony a day later dubbed the eldest triplet the winner.

Several people went bust, having bet good money on Reiji winning the crown. Some expressed pity that the youngest hadn't won, having participated in order to have a say over his mother's welfare.

The girl had been happy, thinking that she'd managed to be useful. As for Ayato himself, he'd been in a daze ever since. She wished she could spend some time with him, but court officials had been prepping him for the coronation, making it difficult to get close.

Since then, she'd mostly been spending time in her room. Shut off again.

The insidious sensation of eyes had hung on her skin like sticky vapor ever since the dinner on that first day. Though she hadn't seen the king since then, she was constantly alert, uncertain of what had been in those eyes, or why they frightened her so. They made her unable to face going outside her room alone.

On one particular day however, those fears were realized. "The King has…requested an audience with me?"

An aged servant waited outside her door. "Yes dear."

She hesitated. "I don't understand, what for?"

"Why, for your company of course." Seeing the girl's furrowed brow deepen, the older woman leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "This is a big opportunity for you! Many a fine woman has longed to be in the position you're in now. His Highness tends to the needs of his lovers exceptionally well. Even better than his wives."

A dull pang echoed in her heart. "Lovers…"

The maid left her standing alone in the hallway, mind turning impossibly fast. A tingling feeling on the nape of her neck pricked into a harsh bite, alerting her to eyes once more.

Her gaze locked with Ayato's.

Quiet, tense energy coiled inside her. She wanted to speak, to break the horrible silence. He had never looked at her like that before, or felt so remote and distant.

Her lips parted. "Ayato." Why did her voice shake? Was she guilty of something?

The prince stared at her a moment longer, before stalking forward.

Her heart thundered in her chest as his hand slammed onto the wall beside her. "Oi…that just now." He finally spoke, hair spilling into his eyes. When he looked up, the locks parted, revealing sharp, glaring green. Somehow, they burned with an inner light.

"You didn't invite it. Did you? His interest." His usual jovial tone had been replaced with one that made her tremble. When she didn't answer, he leaned forward until their foreheads pressed together. The act elicited no warmth or happiness. Her skull ached from being pressed back into the hard surface of the wall behind her.

"You didn't do anything while I wasn't looking, right? Because if you did, nothing will save you." There was a deadly promise in his voice. Hot breath fanned over her lips.

"I wouldn't do that!" She yelled, but words didn't seem to reach him.

She broke the barrier of touch and grabbed his shirt. "Ayato, I don't want to go, please- don't make me! I don't understand what it is he wants from me."

His fingers snapped over hers, crushing them under his larger hands as he pried them off himself. "He wants to fuck you! Why else would he call you to his room?" He spat, the harsh words striking a chord within her. Hadn't Ayato said she belonged to him?"

"W-what? But-but"

"Damn it, stop blubbering." He sneered and backed away slightly, muttering to himself. "That fucking bastard…"

"Ayato, can't you stop this? You're King now aren't you?" She soothed her voice from a less confrontational one, but he seemed too lost in his own frustration to be calmed.

"Not yet I'm not! Shit. He knows I can't do anything to stop him until after the coronation. That's why he's doing this now." He ran a hand through disheveled red locks.

"Please, I don't want this-"

His gaze snapped to hers. "Like he gives a crap what you want."

Her head bowed forward. Hopelessness threatened to overwhelm her. "I won't…"

"Ha?"

Her body was strung tight, her fists shaking at her sides. "I refuse to let him touch me." She jolted roughly in his hold, twisting out of reach and disappearing down the hall before he had a chance to stop her.

Ayato grit his teeth, kicking the wall and feeling a dull thrum race up his leg from the impact.

The building blocks stacked impossibly high flashed in his minds eye. They tilted precariously, threatening to fall.

He wouldn't stand for it. She was his! The bastard knew that, but he just wanted to fuck with him, as always.

Just like that bitch…

"Do you want to go back to the bottom of the lake, Ayato?"

His mind refused to quiet throughout the rest of the day. When guests began to filter in for the informal banquet, he barely noticed.

The girl didn't show up to the feast. Her absence drilled into his thoughts. Come to think of it, when was that special meeting between her and his old man taking place?

His back snapped straight. Was she with him already?

He sucked in a sharp breath, the glass in his hand drawing his attention. The water trembled, as if something was shaking the ground. Like a force was coming no one could stop. Yeah, that was him wasn't it? He wasn't a kid anymore, he could- he could-

"I have no need of you, if you're utterly worthless to me."

Ayato stifled a phantom choke, trying to ignore the sensation of water filling his lungs. This was bullshit. He wasn't doing this, not now.

Why did he still feel like this when he'd finally achieved something of worth? He'd be crowned king soon! The hell was he doing, thinking of these things again?

But a flash of his father's face made the taste of victory turn sickly sour. No, there was no victory if that bastard was still breathing. What's more, he was thinking of satisfying himself inside that girl, the one he'd claimed as his own…

Ayato set down the glass, hands balling into fists. Don't underestimate me, old man. It pisses me off.

Laito glanced away from his conversation with a beautiful brunette to look at his brother, but Ayato had vanished.

Everything lay calm and still that morning. Not a ripple disturbed the motionless surface of the nearby lake. Sunlight blazed, scaling the walls of the castle and bathing every surface in a gentle glow. The kingdom's flag fluttered atop the massive structure.

Further down, stray strands of hair gently swayed in the breeze. The rest of the locks were twisted into a heavy fall, thrown over the side of the King's balcony.

And there, swinging lightly, hung the body of Karlheinz.

A guard who'd been on patrol all night, glanced up by chance whilst walking through the main courtyard. At first, disbelief had severed any action from his brain, but the moment the light hit the body in such a way that it highlighted the king's blank expression, the guard sprung into action.

Chaos descended on the kingdom in the form of frantic footfalls, yells, cries of alarm, thinking that an assassin had killed their king. It was only after the initial terror had subsided that attention was paid to the hair wrapped around his neck.

All blame immediately focused on the girl named Rapunzel.

Officials within the court hushed this information, wanting to handle the situation delicately. Several of them made their way to the throne room, panic quickening their steps.

When the door was cast open, the men stopped, taking in the image before them.

Prince Ayato comfortably lounged on the intricately carved throne, his leg thrown over the armrest. The murderer of the king sat happily on his lap, utterly clueless to their entrance. Ayato held her close, his gaze slanting up to meet the officials who stared at the couple in horror.

"What's with you?"

One man began, his voice shaking. "Y-your Highness, it pains me to say this with such little decorum but-"

"Your father, the former King, has been murdered." Interrupted another.

The girl on his lap glanced at them, her fingers threading in Ayato's loose shirt. He regarded them snidely, eyes filled with boredom. "Really?"

"Yes, Your Highness. We also have reason to believe that the girl with you has-"

"Heh, The King is Dead, Long live the King, right?" Ayato interrupted, moving his leg down and straightening in his seat.

Several of the officials looked at him with shock. "W-what?"

Other's kept a level gaze, expecting this reaction.

Ayato's hand slid up the girl's side, passing her ribs to caress the back of her neck. "This girl isn't someone the kingdom should worry about. She's mine. So I'll do what I want with her." His fingers tangled in her hair, tightening his grip on the cut locks.

Unflinching green eyes challenged any of them to protest.

The court officials didn't dare say a word. Speculation spread throughout the interior of the castle. Noblemen and guards felt they knew the truth, but none were certain in what really happened, save for the five brothers who stood on the sidelines, watching Ayato's coronation.

"It's as if he's carrying the murder weapon around with him. Does he have no tact?" Reiji frowned as Ayato stood close to the girl, the heavy crown adorning his head.

Kanato's nodded dazedly. "I wonder why he doesn't get rid of her?"

The crowd assembled cheered for their new king, the roar of shouts drowning out Laito's quiet chuckle. "I hope your building blocks don't tip over, Ayato. Be sure to mind them carefully."

Slim fingers twirled short strands around absentmindedly. The girl read on, various notes adorning her desk, all regarding the kingdom's welfare and upkeep. Days once spent idle in the tower were now crammed full of study, meetings and research. Yet Rapunzel had never been happier.

Her mind absorbed the information like a sponge. Her love of books had made her useful in attending to things within the kingdom that Ayato didn't have an interest in.

Turning a page, her heart clenched, fingers freezing. Karlheinz's handwriting stared back at her.

She slowly, carefully, shut the book. Another reason of why she drowned herself in work began to crack the surface of her placid expression.

"Dear, the King requests an audience with you." A kind voice called out.

The girl jumped, weaving through nightmares in order to focus on the old maid. "A-Ayato needs me?"

All it took was a single nod, and she was already rising, clearing away her things. When she found that he awaited her in his quarters, she took a steadying breath, trying not to think of that night.

Yet with every step she took, her past self shadowed her footsteps. She could see herself walking to Karlheinz's bedchamber, like a lost lamb going to the slaughter. She'd entered, found him waiting inside, that kind, false smile on pale lips-

"Enter." A voice called, snapping her out of her daze.

Realizing she hadn't knocked, and was instead loitering outside his room, the girl quickly opened the door. Ayato stood by the window, arms crossed.

"You're late."

She rose a brow. "I wasn't aware we had plans?"

He released a sigh before grabbing the curtain, slowly sliding it shut. "You know what I mean. You've kept me waiting long enough."

When he drew in close, enough for her to heart to flutter, she stepped back. "Waiting for...what?"

His lips turned down into a frown. Grabbing her roughly by the arms, air rushed out of her lungs as she fell back onto the bed with a thud. He stood in-between her legs, shoving a knee between her thighs and prying them apart.

"Don't play innocent. You should thank my generosity. If it weren't for me, you'd have been exec-"

"Please don't remind me of it!" She wailed, gripping his forearms and squeezing her eyes shut.

A squeak escaped from her when his lips collided against her mouth. His tongue slid past her lips the moment she gave in, and he moaned as he tasted her deeply. The girl clung to him, feeling his muscles shift as he pushed her deeper into the mattress. Something nudged insistently against her, and she gasped, pulling back from their kiss.

"I'll burn any trace of him away." He said solemnly.

A hush fell over them. Their breaths intermingled. Ayato's gaze slid to her chest, which rapidly rose and fell with each pant. She knew now what that gaze meant, and her stomach fluttered. Spending the better part of her childhood with only fairy tale books, her knowledge about the intimacies shared in bed were limited and naturally, her curiosity took over when she'd come across certain books in the library.

But this wasn't like how they'd described it in the books. He shed her clothes and impatiently waited as she attempted to strip him, growling when she took longer than he wanted. Once his bare skin touched hers, her body flamed alight. A wetness and tightening need swelled inside her core. Instinctively, she rocked her hips against his, desperate to relieve the ache.

It was clumsy and rough at first. Teeth knocked, blunt nails scratched, biting into skin harshly, before hard fingers thrust and prodded their way into places that had her back arching.

"Heh, that's not a bad face you're making, it's actually kind of arousing." He murmured, voice muffled as he retracted his tongue from between her thighs.

He shifted above her, and she closed her eyes, a furious blush spread over her face. She could hear his pants, could feel his fingers press over her skin, and when his hands lifted her thighs so her legs could wrap around him, a noise escaped her throat. That prodding that she felt earlier returned, only this time, it felt hotter and more real.

When he slid inside her, her eyes opened on reflex, and she tensed, expecting it to hurt, but he just smirked at her. His fingers only had to press against her sex to be coated in her fluids. "Can't pretend you're not enjoying it now, huh?"

And then he began to move. The sensation of him thrusting inside her built the ache in her core, until it consumed her entire body. Her fingers slid into his red hair, feeling its softness soak with sweat as he grunted and moved.

As the ache inside her curled her toes, white hot heat coxed her higher, and higher- until ravenous, soul splitting pleasure drowned out all thought.

Without the barriers of her mind, memories came rushing in.

She saw it all. The way her body had shaken violently, throwing off Karl's hands before he'd been able to do anything more than kiss her. Wrong, all wrong! Her mind had screamed. Fairy tales lining the walls of the tower bled into her vision. Those stories had become her sole comfort in her isolation. To the point that they'd become her obsession.

When a prince had stepped through her window, she'd felt a thin veil of relief and peace wash over her. It'd been perfect. He was the same as her books by association of his title. She'd implicitly trusted him without needing any other reason.

So then, when had the situation turned so sour? Why did a King embrace her? Only a prince was supposed to have her.

The rest was a red haze. She recalled her fingers wrapping around his neck, squeezing and squeezing as panic surged through her bloodstream. In another flash, they were struggling on the floor, her hair wound around his neck.

Then the voice of Ayato had startled her, his green eyes wide. Karlheinz had been coughing, retching on the floor, gasping for air.

She dimly remembered Ayato's voice calming her as they'd manoeuvred the king over to the balcony. And then...

Strands of hair had twisted into a rope, strung tight around his neck as it gave a sickening snap. His head had lolled to the side, eyes glazed and vacant.

Ayato had brushed his fingers through her hair afterwards, muttering incoherent things as he'd cut her locks free with bloody scissors. Everything else was a blur, except for the few words that he echoed now, locked inside her and panting torn, ragged breaths.

"You're mine. And mine alone."

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fanfiction #ayato sakamaki #diahell #more blood

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leonarsleman94 · 4 years ago

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Tips On How To Get Taller Quickly Wondrous Ideas

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How Can I Grow 4 Inches Taller Overnight

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#Tips On How To Get Taller Quickly Wondrous Ideas #Can You Increase Height At 30

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keepitstable · 7 years ago

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What do you mean, keep it all on the TABLE?

An example for illustration: I do not work now in the investment industry but I have in years past. I’ve come to the conclusion that most investment products sold by investment companies or banks are just crap on toast. I mean terrible. I really mean most of them too, as in more than 70% of the investment market is terrible to the common, individual investor. Unfortunately, most investors maintain a relationship with their retail broker/planner/advisor without knowing whether they are subject to high investment or other fees. They utilize informal information systems, like the reputation of the broker in the community or church or other charity, to determine whether their money should be stewarded by the broker/planner/advisor. The misinformation and cognitive dissonance can be staggering when considering opportunity costs and a long career/investment horizon. The after-tax and fees return data (key word) should drive the decision of who should be your advisor/planner/broker, not whether she is well-dressed, cordial, empathetic, or even intelligent appearing, whatever that means.

If you haven’t already, read the book, A Random Walk Down Wall Street. The author is Dr. Burton Malkiel. I don’t get anything from anyone for recommending this book, it is just that one book that stood head and shoulders above the rest when studying for my M.S. in Finance. It had tons of good data and highlighted the mistakes of judgment all around the investment industry. The rarity of beating the market is way understated in the investment industry, I think by design. There’s entrenched interest in keeping this misinformation (beating the market is so doable) lingering and on equal footing with the bare-knuckles truth (even amazing investment managers rarely beat the market) to the average Joe.

Keeping it all on the TABLE: most investments in the U.S. are garbage for the average Joe. I am an index investor, thanks a lot to Burton Malkiel, and I invest in low-cost index funds with Vanguard (again, I get nothing from anyone for saying this and I don’t speak in any way for them). I started index investing in 2005 with only a couple thousand dollars, when I got out of the Army, and am happy that I’ve averaged double digit annual returns, after all fees, up to and through this year in my investment accounts. I hear there are lower-cost index funds out there, literally run mostly by robots, and I encourage folks to find the ones with integrity and invest in them to optimize the principles from A Random Walk Down Wall Street.

What does it look like when someone does not keep it all on the TABLE? If I didn’t keep it all on the TABLE, I’d likely be telling folks that (a) 1% or more is a good rate for investment management (common in retail brokerage), (b) that 12B-1 and other fees or loads are normal and reasonable, and the big one ( c) that your broker/planner/advisor is probably not screwing you. What’s sad is that most folks in the investment industry do not keep it all on the TABLE.

You don’t have to pay more than 1% for investment management fees, you don’t have to pay marketing or 12B-1 or other fees or loads, you don’t have to buy variable rate annuities. What’s really shady is that sometimes these variable rate annuities are very sneakily called “fixed index annuities.” See how close that name is to index funds, which are very often good, reasonable investment vehicles. To be clear, if you or your family or friends deal with any broker/planner/advisor, which is highly likely, then it is more likely than not that that broker is charging you a lot more than he should (guess who that benefit accrues to) for returns that do not outperform index funds--inferior returns. That’s right, a random sample would show most people pay far too much in fees for way inferior returns, relative to the S&P 500, and other low-cost indices.

I mean business when I say that almost everyone out there is getting screwed badly by their broker/advisor/planner. Even the wealthy are often getting served garbage in their investments. How bad is it? Well, let’s just say a young intern at a high net worth ($2MM+) investment firm ($2B+ in assets under management) not long ago ran the numbers with the portfolio manager at his firm, a “financial planning” firm (really almost all their money came from investment management, the financial plans were just a loss lead to get assets under management). The firm was quite connected in a wealthy community, read country club/informal information sources, in a big city. The firm charged a common high net worth 1.25% in investment fees. By the time the intern ran the numbers and the data was all there in plain sight, the portfolio manager readily admitted that index investing would have been better--far better--better by a mile--no comparison better than investing in the firm/his actively-managed portfolio. He was the guy doing the money management, making the trades. Why was the index better? Because of churn, that’s all the buying and selling within the clients account thinking hot new data is gonna work some superior magic. The kicker in the teeth for clients was the high fee. Yes, that 1.25% in fees charged for “superior insight and service”, when the indices were charging .25%, compounded (key word) to create a hugely crippling disadvantage for the firm’s actively-managed portfolio. The index was far superior and it wasn’t even close.

What do I mean by keep the cognitive dissonance out? When you work in an industry for years and understand that the unspoken reality of being a financial planning or advising firm is that you’re trying to get as much in assets under management as possible so you can charge high fees for returns you know are inferior, what you’ve turned the client into is a mark. That’s right, a mark, a rube, target. It is important to remember what we call these products by law: securities. Sometimes they are not secure at all. Bond, yeah right, like jello it bonds. When you the planner/advisor/broker suspect or know that you’re optimizing your information asymmetry (e.g., you know your returns are inferior to the S&P or other comparable indices and you work hard to keep the client from being informed about the crap sandwich you’re serving her), you’re engaging in cognitive dissonance. What’s worse is this is your life’s work. Your alleged care and concern for the long-term good of the client, often going overboard on the financial “planning” rhetoric, combined with the assertion of security and trust (the accounts are called “trusts” most times), creates the dissonance. Sometimes it is all very subtle but other times it is so integral to the program/business that it is unavoidable. An example of this idea is when you know a variable rate annuity is garbage but you sell it to an elderly widow anyway. This cognitive dissonance often corrupts the planner/advisor. She can easily forget what she entered the field for in the first place. The deception of the client becomes a corrupting force within the broker/planner/advisor’s mind, which can sap motivation.

To clarify this idea, there will always be information asymmetries in market economies/under the price system. Also, to be sure, in a general sense the price system is the best of all systems known to mankind by which we should organize our society. Does it cost the local burger joint $3 to make the burger so that if the price is $4, the profit on the burger to the burger joint is $1? I don’t know. The burger joint holds an information asymmetry in my not knowing, one I readily concede. I could find out the real cost with research but I don’t have a lot of time to do that and the cost of the burger relative to my time/opportunity costs is negligible. So I’m fine with the information asymmetry that the burger joint holds in the transaction.

It is important to remember in the context of this discussion, in addition to the fact that investments aren’t burgers, that your investments are within a legal construct filled with euphemisms and psychology. Unfortunately for most folks though, more than just a lunch at the local burger joint is at stake. However, the decision to ignore what the actual returns are from most brokers/planners/advisors, and what fees the investor is really getting hammered with, is a mistake. This mistake puts the average client’s analysis of his nest egg right down there with that hamburger in terms of how much real thought, consideration, or data goes into the investment decision.

Sometimes the difference between a common load-fee fund investment in your local Edwardo Jonestown firm and an index investment can really mean the difference between retiring at age 60 and not being able to retire at all. This is an area of life worth digging into, really. This decision is important enough to eliminate the cognitive dissonance. It is like Jack Welch says, “Get the data.” In most instances, just go ahead and fire your broker/planner/advisor. Find the low-cost index fund and move your money. Don’t ask, just tell your advisor/planner/broker what you’re going to do and then do it, once you’ve evaluated the fees and indices. To do this look on financial websites, which often publish fund fees. I get mine from Yahoo! Finance by typing in the fund ticker at the top of the page and going to the profile tab. The annual expense percentages are at the bottom on the right. I’ve been looking at these expense numbers for various funds every now and again for about 12 years.

In short, I hope you see from this post how I try to keep it all on the TABLE. I’ll focus more sometimes on other business areas in other posts. This blog may look a little more like formal legal writing at times, not too often I hope. Nonetheless, we’ll try our best to keep the cognitive dissonance out, even if that alienates most of the investment or any other industry or belief system.

As I’ve seen in the tax law arena, some CPAs/attorneys shimmy up to brokers/planners/advisors, which are mostly bad, for their potential connections to clients; in order to win business you usually need exposure to the potential clients. These tax/business law practitioners often stay away from clear realities like I’ve articulated in this post in hopes of economic gain. They don’t keep it all on the TABLE. They often engage in a similar kind of cognitive dissonance as I’ve described in detail above but since it is someone else doing the hoodwinking/overcharging, that is, the broker/planner/advisor, the shimmying CPAs/attorneys don’t feel as culpable.

Telling the truth, doing the ethical thing, and keeping the cognitive dissonance out in tax and business law ethics, are all part of keeping it all on the TABLE.

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