#but you know what is? domination conquest and power tripping | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phoenixtakaramono · 3 years

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SUMMARY: Let it not be said that Shen Yuan didn’t know how to be an accomplished—arguably better—writer than Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky! A middle-aged author in his hubris, he’d unknowingly triggered his fate and had his consciousness whisked away into an unfathomable mystical world that he would later learn to be based on Proud Immortal Demon Way and his very own work-in-progress. When given the opportunity to customize his character’s stats and to design his one remaining Customizable Skill Slot, as a veteran reader of transmigration stories and their tropes, Shen Yuan demanded, “Grant me the protagonist’s halo of course!”The SYSTEM was silent all but for a minute.

【Understood. Unique Skill "PROTAGONIST'S HALO" activated. Esteemed Host, you share the Unique Skill "PROTAGONIST'S HALO" with one other.】

“Who?”

【This world’s Luo Binghe. From the original novel series.】

“...Hold on, I need some time to process this.”

(Little did Shen Yuan know that this world’s Luo Binghe is the same sadistic “Bing gē” from the released Extra short story. It was also too bad that Shen Yuan, in his mortal form, resembled Shen Qingqiu by a good thirty-to-forty percent.)

There was an important takeaway to be had from tonight’s interaction: Shen Yuan had asserted his place as the lord of this residence and as Luo Binghe’s future ally.

Several thoughts had, however, been plaguing him ever since Shen Yuan gifted Luo Binghe the handscrolls, leaving like the composed gentleman he was while the half-demon pondered over the newfound revelations for the night. Those thoughts filled Shen Yuan’s brain with a renewed vigor that his exhausted body did not feel, roiling through him as he changed into his night clothes. Even now, lying down with his hands folded over his stomach, they consumed his mind as he stared up at the azure, gauzy canopy that looked eerily similar to the one in the guest bedchamber that Luo Binghe now slept in.

Wisps of hazy white rose from the lotus-shaped censer he’d brought to his bed. The coals within were still fresh in the copper, keeping him warm in the night, with the fragrance of sandalwood circulating within the room.

His unyielding companion, the blue text box, hovered above. Shen Yuan kept his gaze averted from it; he had read and reread the Chinese characters countless times that if he closed his eyes, he could still see the most recent notification engraved in his mind’s eye.

【Prediction! Future Event <<A NIGHT OF PASSION>> has been changed into <<LOADING CHEKHOV'S GUN>>. You have reached the conditions to clear the scenario. Countdown commencing. Reward: B-Points +50.】

The planes of his face were bathed in a soft blue glow as he ruminated. Shen Yuan couldn’t find it within him to feel any guilt or to throw blame at anyone other than himself. He’d unlocked the <<TRUE END>> main scenario and, judging by how the <<SYSTEM>> was not giving him a choice, he had to build that rapport between themselves and see that friendship through.

These are the seeds you’ve sown, he reminded himself. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. He could only dig his hands into the soil and watch the seeds slowly bear fruit.

Bing gē—or, rather, Luo Binghe—was not a 2D character on paper; he was now a real person who breathed and talked and had a will of his own. Even so, Shen Yuan didn’t know the extent of the ramifications if an extraordinary “prodigy” gained self-awareness that he was the male protagonist of a fictional erotica series.

It’d be interesting. If someone found out one day that they were a precious existence in a world which catered to them because of “narrative convenience,” they’d naturally become audacious. All the attractive people belonged to them, hearts were won over for no real reason, and enemies would be seen as less of a threat and more as an annoyance in the eyes of a protagonist with infinite power levels. Shen Yuan could envision it; Luo Binghe would probably behave more recklessly, bolstered by the certainty that he was protected by plot armor. He’d be a spoilt menace in a male power fantasy world—riding the power trip until the novelty wore off inevitably.

The corners of Shen Yuan’s mouth curved. He didn’t know how likeminded Luo Binghe was, but if he thought like he did, he’d exploit his advantages. A protagonist’s existence was akin to a cockroach, dragged from door’s death each time without fail.

This was not merely a case of schadenfreude—another difficult foreign term he’d learned during his pursuit as a novelist—where he reveled in another person’s misfortunes. It was a well-established trope in all forms of literature that when a person was casually dropped into a life-or-death situation, they would resurface as calamities. Since Luo Binghe was an important main character, he would naturally benefit.

...Sorry, youngster. Shen Yuan raised a white flag in commiseration for him in his heart. I didn’t mean to conscript you, but you must continue to work hard. Nationalistic pride exists among many Chinese writers.

Even pre-enlightened Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had not been exempt from that.

In most narratives, a protagonist’s role was to rise above the rest and “smash the system.” They were akin to power kegs just waiting to be ignited.

Shen Yuan squinted up at the UI, his eyes beginning to water from its bright glow. He blinked rapidly, but the strain in his eyes refused to ease. This better not be the sort of tale where he and Luo Binghe had to compete to establish who was the one true protagonist, having to assert narrative dominance. Shen Yuan had no intention of pulling aggro to himself.

Raising a forearm up to shadow his vision, he groaned. He declared to no one, “Airplane brother, you’ve done your first son a great disservice.”

(He couldn’t help thinking the author had done a disservice to the original Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan among many others.)

The events that had played out tonight strengthened Shen Yuan’s conviction. He could now see how people easily fell for Luo Binghe’s act; the charisma of a stallion protagonist was potent. Even so, he had capitalized on his goodwill—and Luo Binghe’s strange fixation—hoping continuous acts of kindness being demonstrated toward him would soften him toward Shen Yuan and prove his intentions were sincere. His goal to leave a favorable impression was already well underway, with the endgame of establishing how it would be in Luo Binghe’s best interests to remember Shen Yuan’s acts of compassion and to return them tenfold in the future.

Should Shen Yuan prove himself to be of use, surely even a cutthroat person like Bing gē would not discard a loyal comrade—no, a valuable asset—during his rise to power?

Under no circumstances must Luo Binghe see the strange celestial fortuneteller as a threat or as a jealous rat. In the stories where the main character was an antihero, the few ways to survive their malice was by entering their harem, becoming the sole lover, being exiled—like Luo Binghe’s rival, the “second male lead” Gongyi Xiao—or becoming an indispensable friend or ally. Even though Shen Yuan was protected by plot armor, he should not assume its protection was absolute. His own transmigration here was proof that life was full of unknown variables.

But with Luo Binghe’s appearance here, his days of treating the other protagonist’s existence like colorless air were over.

To avoid future headaches, the only method Shen Yuan could foresee showing his fellow protagonist that his services were indispensable was by lending him his intelligence—and his predictions of the future. As the ancient proverb went, a friend who brings coal in the snow is most precious. If he availed to continue fostering goodwill and his undying support, those efforts would be rewarded handsomely. As a protagonist of the xianxia genre, Luo Binge followed a code of honor—even more so as a cultivator taught in the martial and mystical arts.

He recalled the last question Luo Binghe had asked of him before Shen Yuan left, regarding the compatibility of his fated person.

What he’d told Luo Binghe during the palm-reading was admittedly due to Shen Yuan’s own internal bias. It’d made Shen Yuan want to laugh at his own past naivety. He had to reevaluate everything he’d erroneously taken to be true and canon.

As a novelist, Peerless Cucumber wasn’t as generous as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky who’d spoiled his stallion protagonist with far-too-easy conquests as a result of pandering to his audience with fanservice. While Shen Yuan’s unique stamp was focusing less on romance and more on worldbuilding, he developed his romances gradually; like reality, his characters had to learn to work with each other’s strengths and flaws, overcome challenges, mutually pine for each other, and to be able to see a future together.

Only then did the payoff seem all the more impactful in his storylines.

A conflicted expression descended upon Shen Yuan’s face.

While there was entertainment to be had following the adventures of a “blackened” antihero crushing his opponents under his foot, Shen Yuan couldn’t help but count his blessings again that he wasn’t a young woman who had been reincarnated in the body of the villainess or a side character. That archetype always seemed to hope to enjoy her new lavish life in the sidelines watching the romance unfold between the male and female leads, but was swept into the mechanisms of palace intrigue—secret schemes and political power struggles—when the male lead inevitably turned his attention towards her.

Shen Yuan also took solace in his good fortune of not having been transmigrated into the body of an antagonist or a cannon fodder—which meant it wasn’t necessary for him to embrace the plot device of hugging the protagonist’s golden thighs and painstakingly preserving the pretense of being another person.

There were two less flags to be concerned over.

His purpose here was to surpass his rival in the danmei genre. That meant there must be two male leads. But Luo Binghe didn’t come from his own intellectual properties; his creation had been birthed from Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s imagination.

In this case, since it was a crossover, didn’t that mean Shen Yuan had essentially adopted Luo Binghe as his male lead? So as his responsibility, wouldn’t that mean he’d have to find the xiǎo láng gǒu—little wolfdog—a love interest? Give him an OTP? Help him tie the knot?

...Would it truly be okay if this tired uncle wrote a predestined romance for once? As much as Shen Yuan favored defying expectations, there was a formulaic structure that made their literature different from those in the Western market whose shocking narratives could not only arouse pity in their audience, but also a sense of awe, excitement, fear, and suffering.

Chinese protagonists were not always someone of high society; they often hailed from humble origins as a device for the writer to underscore the merits of working hard and to criticize the system—a fictional one though, to avoid absolute censorship by the Chinese government. Their heroes began as nothing more than a windblown leaf in the social structure and years of ethical traditions set in place. They started on the bottom rungs of society to draw people’s attention to their lives, to the injustice and unfairness, which made their struggles and triumphs all the more impactful to the reader.

The fates of the leading characters were tied to the juxtaposition of the harmonious ideal of society and the reality of a flawed system. Chinese tales were inherently romantic oftentimes, with tragic conflicts written to emphasize the beauty of a bond and rousing sympathy and pity for their plight. The archetype of a tragic hero was meant to be presented so profoundly that great reverence would well up spontaneously in one’s heart.

In his opinion, Luo Binghe had suffered plenty in his role as the avenging, wronged hero.

Under normal circumstances, as Peerless Cucumber, Shen Yuan was the sort of novelist known for deconstructing unoriginal, formulaic conventions. He’d satirized enough classic and tired tropes in whichever genre he was writing for, it almost became expected of him to subvert expectations in all of his publications. It was just his contrarian nature to write something out of spite. It would therefore not be considered strange for him to challenge the established romantic convention of soulmates by emphasizing different degrees of compatibility, by making his leading characters come together as platonic comrades or as destined adversaries instead of the cliché as predestined lovers.

But this Luo Binghe is now a real person, Shen Yuan had to remind himself yet again, and is no longer an imaginary concept on paper.

Peh, I never knew you were such a romantic, Protagonist A. To think I have to break the discipline I’ve kept for these past few decades of my life…. Who knew a little wolfdog like you would still yearn for a tacky “match made in heaven” even though you’ve been “dual cultivating” with so many beauties….

For the first time in a long while, guilt weighed heavily on Shen Yuan’s mind. He swallowed hard. While he understood the implicit reality of his situation, he still felt like he was, in some way, disappointing his audience by not living up to his reputation. The shame he felt was bizarre.

He cast his plea into the void, my cherished readers, please understand. Forgive this writer if I don’t subvert your expectations in this aspect just this once.

The harem was the closest Luo Binghe had to a family. After the parental kindness of the washerwoman was torn away from him early in his life, after having endured the unhealthy environment that followed, the only love and tenderness he received in his life came in the arms of beautiful women. Tokens of affection were given in the form of intimate acts. It was no wonder Bing gē ’s character had ended up twisted. With his inferiority complex, he collected beauties with a greed not unlike a hedonistic minister who expected tributes and bribes.

The shortcomings of a younger, less experienced Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky made Shen Yuan’s heart ache for all of the original cast of characters. Airplane brother couldn’t have known his own writing would give birth to fully-actualized, breathing persons. As a webnovel writer, there was pressure to meet the self-imposed deadlines set on the online platform of choice to earn virtual coins per chapter, oftentimes leading one to forsake their own creative integrity.

The appeal of an underdog overcoming the odds had been a timeless theme for many reasons. The young, pre-enlightened Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky must have felt obligated to make his protagonist suffer through every cliché in the book for angst points just so that when the love interests took care of him, the juxtaposition seemed “fluffier” and served their function as “healing element” in the story. But the setup was written clumsily, formulaically, like he’d written the angst first and rushed the payoffs.

There were so many women in the harem whose narrative potential stayed underdeveloped. Like cardboard cutouts, most didn’t have much of a personality other than looking beautiful. The heroines were trophies meant to stroke the male protagonist’s ego—who made him feel masculine, manly, and powerful—and to enable him to act in an unrestrained capacity. They were the author’s story device to show his cruel and brutal antihero still had a heart. In the presence of Luo Binghe, each one was gentle, kind, respectful, and submissive. To the other harem members, the once innocent maidens had to learn how to be shameless, who only knew to fight for a man’s favor.

But on a fundamental level, it was because his lovers were blinded by Luo Binghe’s bright, limitless future that nobody truly understood him beyond being a “main capture target.” They saw his worth as a strong, undefeatable husband material. And, in return, beneath the author’s veneer of romance, they were essentially relegated into the role not unlike that of “human cauldrons,” living furnaces that were drained of their vital energies to boost the protagonist’s longevity or cultivation powers through dual cultivation.

When Shen Yuan had read the original series, he came to recognize that the novelist must have wanted to create a dark, tragic antihero who obliterated obstacles to show how far he had come. Writing was supposed to be therapeutic, and Airplane brother must have wanted his story to stand out. The original Luo Binghe was a person motivated by his own grudges, by envy, and by pride—a hungry, ravenous young man fueled by the rage he’d been carrying for far too long. With his “origin story,” as somebody who had undergone the traumas that he had, after all the injustices he had suffered, after all the people and the society he’d been let down by, it was only natural that he carried a lot of emotional baggage.

What this Luo Binghe needed was somebody who was a foil to his temperament, patient, charismatic, and well-educated. Since he would be uniting the Three Realms, they also needed to be proactive keeping him in check from becoming a self-indulgent, fatuous ruler. A sensible head was needed on their shoulders to guide their merciless husband in understanding right from wrong, from succumbing to madness, and from any sycophants looking to lead him astray. It was integral to help Protagonist A maintain a harmonious empire so that, together, they could lead a golden age of reform.

When Cao Zijian first saw the Luò River Goddess, Shen Yuan abruptly recalled, he wrote a verse about her unrivaled beauty and charm.

Whether or not it was Liu Mingyan, a man, or somebody else, it would be poetic if Luo Binghe found his own Luo Shen in the form of somebody who understood him, a person who was well-versed in the language of his cues and subtleties. If Bing gē was truly interested in a man, then Shen Yuan will make sure to find him someone compatible. To draw a protagonist’s eye and maintain it, the candidate must be witty and gutsy, empathetic to a degree and with appropriate ambitions. To stand out from the beauties in the harem, one must not be passive or pretentious.

Their existence would be like a fairytale dream come true. A breath of fresh air. Were Luo Binghe to have intentions on somebody whose standards were significantly much more difficult to meet, he might realize he’d actually have to put in the extra effort to increase his favorability rating with them.

It was a common saying that a man’s personality will undergo change once he falls in love, arousing his desire to protect and provide.

If it was a level of deep love that was truly matchless in this age, a romance that transcended heaven and earth, ordained by fate, even an old man like himself would shed tears of emotion and wish the young newlyweds happy nuptials and an everlasting love in every lifetime.

Shen Yuan wondered if there even existed such an extraordinary person in this setting.

A fated match was bound by string even though a thousand miles. If such a person did not hail from Airplane brother’s imagination, then they must originate from Shen Yuan’s.

And if such a “child” did hail from himself, then Luo Binghe had more to prove to him, demonstrating that an emotionally-stunted half-demon as himself was capable of being sensitive and having a healthy relationship—lest Shen Yuan be forced to skewer him with Yue Ying if this “black-bellied” junior turned out to be overbearing, pursuing and pressuring this novelist’s precious “child” despite being refused. There must exist a chemistry between them, or a mutual romantic interest.

Luo Binghe’s reputation was already in tatters in the Mortal Realm on the account of having a demonic heritage and having razed down the great righteous sects. The current settings of the world defined anyone of demon blood as abominations to be exorcised or slayed without impunity. Whatever goodwill he’d originally cultivated with his deceptive “nice guy” act had to be regained. The elites of the upper class, staunch proponents of maintaining the status quo, would curse anyone of lowly background to be despicable persons who sought connections far above their status. Winning the war against the son of heaven and finding a match of great affinity would be integral in swaying public opinion to his favor.

In public, the lovers must persevere to present a united front, ruthless and fearless against their opposition but dependable and benevolent towards their subjects. They must accumulate enough reverence. It was only over time that the Sacred Rulers would prove themselves worthy of being beloved, idolized by the common people and giving the traditionalists found in high society—who held standards above the ceiling—no choice but to accept their reign lest they risk annihilation from their new rulers.

Until such a person was found, he supposed he could step into the role as his counsel if Luo Binghe ever sought him out.

There’s no medicine for regret, he thought with resolve. Although the <<SYSTEM>> made unsubtle prompts for him to make peace with Luo Binghe, as a direct result of his own decision-making, it had set Shen Yuan down the path of cooperation. He would try his hand at the impossible task of becoming Bing gē’s friend.

It would be an uphill battle, but he must broaden his view early on and engrave these words into his head: the once two-dimensional novel characters were now three-dimensional, multifaceted people.

Their upbringings were nothing alike, but destiny had come as a spring rain and brought them under the same roof.

Luo Binghe came from a destitute background. He’d witnessed firsthand, for himself, the injustices in life being born in abject poverty and with no background. After his stepmother, no one watered the mind of the tender sprout that was a young Luo Binghe, forcing the child to learn how to fend for himself. With his upbringing, it made sense why he had misanthropic tendencies. He’d seen for himself the wretchedness of people’s hearts, that those in high positions—whether it be the sons of noblemen, a Peak lord, or the emperor—had the power to push people around. Now in a similar position, he wouldn’t forget the harsh lessons. Grown up, he was a fearsome existence that very few—if any—could topple. He swore to make his enemies pay in blood.

On the other side of the spectrum, Shen Yuan was a son of entrepreneurs, born with a golden spoon in his mouth. He had the basic business acumen, brought up on Chinese pragmatism and the merit of achieving prosperity. Life might have led him down a different path as a profession, but he was educated in the principles of economics and had graduated from a reputable university focused on self-discipline and social commitment. A writer’s pastime was observing human behavior and implementing real world examples into the imaginary worlds they’ve constructed. From all the books he’d read and the programs he’d watched, he’d accumulated a wealth of random knowledge here and there, with a personal interest in reading up on tactical wartime strategies of the past.

As the older party, he could set the bare minimum standard Luo Binghe could emulate as the type of leader he could be, and to help him grow from his insecurities. The innovations and potential comforts of a technologically-advanced civilization were ingrained into a transmigrator’s brain. His handsome junior could be inspired by some of Shen Yuan’s “wisdom” and put them into practice for any of his policymaking.

Like the spring breeze that thawed the frozen soil, he would be someone who reached into the abyss and grabbed that bloodstained hand. Under his guise as a higher order of being, Shen Yuan would ensure the arrogant, domineering playboy matured into his full potential as a capable and virtuous ruler of the future.

In this world, his modern knowledge and his knowledge of both novel series were his cheats.

He’ll give him pointers so that he wouldn’t continue on the path of self-destruction. He’ll scathingly denounce and safeguard him from conniving shrews and from scheming aristocrats of unscrupulous greed, and from trope pitfalls and foolish mistakes, and to happily hand that duty off when Luo Binghe’s star-crossed lover—a nuanced person of honesty and integrity—inevitably turned up. And maybe, just maybe, even if Bing gē still curated a reputation as a fair but ruthless viper, the new reign might be salvageable and worthy of pride for generations to come.

Let us work together for the unification of the world, okay, Luo Binghe? I know you can do it. This old man will try to advise you during your prime.

It would be like tossing a peach and getting a plum back. It was a smart investment, in hopes of a great return.

“I’d redeemed you once,” Shen Yuan murmured, white lashes fanning against his cheeks. He closed his eyes in reminiscence of his own fanfiction, inhaling the light, woody scent of the censer nearby. “I can do it again.”

In the meantime, preparedness was quintessential. He reflected, I must collect more merits. I cannot be lazy and lag behind in accomplishments.

While Luo Binghe fought his battles, Shen Yuan should avail himself to avoid the fate of the Second Lead Syndrome. A bland comparison metric to be used against the protagonist, that archetype of the second male lead had everything stolen from him—from his time in the spotlight, even to his favorite woman—all to be handed over to the main character. It was a tragic fate. Shen Yuan did not wish to see his own successes being overshadowed by the radiant presence of a hardworking young man.

If his efforts bore fruit, he and Luo Binghe might even be comrades who respected each other, who trusted each other and would never dare to raise a blade at each other’s throat. They would unlock the epilogue together and find their star-crossed lovers. And once everything was set in stone, once the adults ground themselves to dust and were ready to step down to make way for the new generation, they could all live the rest of their lives in peaceful retirement.

And should fate permit them each to father their own child, should harmony blossom between the lovers they doted on and should such a good supportive relationship be maintained, as “uncles” they might even consider arranging an engagement for their descendants—a symbol of uniting the celestial, mortal, and demon bloodlines through marriage.

He could just weep from that beautiful imagery. May their lives be full of warmth and sweetness.

“...System?” he inquired drowsily, his voice barely above a whisper. Turning on his side, he stared at a faraway wall. The glazed white surface of the porcelain pillow felt cold against his cheek, its smoothness reminiscent of jade. “Can you hear me?”

Ping.

【This <<SYSTEM>> provides the Esteemed Host a 24-hour service.】

“I don’t remember Airplane brother going into detail about what the education system is like in this setting. Is it supposed to be historically accurate to the ancient feudal model or…?”

Ping.

As he listened to the long encyclopedic explanation, what he’d heard seemed to reconfirm his worst fears. Education was the privilege of the elites. With a cultivator’s narrow-minded focus on self-enlightenment, it made sense that the basic education curriculum of the twenty-first century could be seen as innovative in the pre-established setting of this strange world.

Wait a moment, wouldn’t this mean even a secondary school student would be seen as a prodigy in this world? ...Then what would a middle-aged uncle of university-level education be considered as?

...A wise sage?

Shen Yuan formed a complicated expression. Immortal cultivators prioritized studying matters of the “spiritual heart” and Qi refinement, in the martial and mystical arts, breaking through the bottleneck of each cultivation stage until their dedication allowed them to reach the pinnacle that was the Ninth Stage.

In the early webnovels, Bing gē had stagnated as a late-stage Core Formation expert. The constant sabotage in his early life had ensured that his education in the esoteric art of cultivation remained incomplete, ensuring that Luo Binghe’s cultivation remained rough around the edges and unpolished, with the end result being the gaps in his knowledge that had to be overcompensated by creativity and sheer determination.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, in his laziness to research the many intricate nuances of the Cultivation World, had waved the illogicalness of the protagonist’s OPness away by attributing it to his ancient, heaven-fallen demonic heritage and to the deus ex machina that was his legendary sword. (Yet, even then, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky still occasionally confused the Foundation Establishment with the Nascent Soul stages.)

It wouldn’t be until the end of the series—after the outcry of the netizens—that the unsatisfied Luo Binghe made the breakthrough into the proper Nascent Soul stage with the help of his wives and their many gratuitous papapa scenes.

Then in the epilogue, the author had infuriatingly time-skipped all the way to the penultimate Ninth Stage, describing how Luo Binghe somehow became a legend among legends who had finally attained eternal youth and aged back into his late twenties in his new immortal body after having miraculously passed the Heavenly Tribulations—disasters from heaven which were akin to nuclear radiation for those of demon blood. After an unspecified many years of rule, he’d left his legacy behind—with the uncountable size of his harem and a boundless number of his descendants “mourning the loss of a great and oftentimes misunderstood man.”

Just remembering it made Shen Yuan’s blood pressure spike dangerously. Taking deep, calming breaths, he rolled onto his back again as he forced himself to attain catharsis from listening to the mind-numbing exposition the <<SYSTEM>> was extolling to him like a history program. His fingers clenched the bed sheet.

Eventually he found himself feeling adrift, the words beginning to lose their coherency to him as he phased in and out of consciousness, his mind becoming wrapped in a haze of scented smoke. Tense muscles soon relaxed.

The countdown had reached 00:00:00 when sleep finally claimed him.

XXXXXXXXXX

He’d read and heard several accounts of people who have claimed to have had lucid dreams before, but this was the first time Shen Yuan was aware that he was having an “out-of-body” experience.

It’d felt like his “soul” was being lifted into the air. His head was spinning, a ringing in his ears. When he finally “opened his eyes,” he was floating upright in a world devoid of color. Iridescent grids pulsed in and out of existence in the fog below, running like gossamer lines of circuits which resembled the pre-rendered level of a video game.

In the desolate void of white mist, a single incomplete, dark brushstroke circled overhead in an endless rotation of a wheel. He stared up at it. “...Is...it buffering?” Clouds escaped his mouth as he spoke, tasting pure, winter frost with each breath.

Color was beginning to spread, like somebody had dipped a daub of green watercolor beneath his feet.

Ping.

【Answer! Welcome, lăoshī! This <<System>> begs the Esteemed Host’s patience. We have encountered a bug and are thusly limiting the open world configurations. Please be patient while we load the rest of the map assets.】

Alarm bells were blaring inside his head, and he swore he could hear the clanging manifested—but muffled. He began to think that there must have been something suppressive in the air, something that muted all normal sounds. Covering his ears to deafen the noise still, he demanded, “What bug?”

In his muffled hearing, the answering ping pierced through the quiet .

The <<SYSTEM>> spoke clearly and unobstructedly.【This is the world within a dream realm. To adhere to lăoshī’s traditional xianxia expectations, please be aware that celestials are considered the antithesis to every demon in the world. We have thusly isolated your divine presence in a barrier separate from the dream realm influence of Protagonist <<LUO BINGHE>> and Supporting Character <<MENG MO>>, sealing away the demonic Qi bordering lăoshī’s dream realm. You are expected to clear the important plot scenario before you are allowed to return to your waking state.】

That was as official of a “reality check” as he could perform.

Shen Yuan had to sit down.

From faraway, his countenance was of a man with legs dangling over the leafy green rim of a giant water lily. The paleness to his complexion lent him a deceptive image of fragility. His long white hair was down, and the loose white sleeves of his night garment billowed even though there was no wind. A garden pavilion was forming behind him, similar in design to the thirteen bordering the lotus pond he’d rescued Luo Binghe from.

Time stretched on. And on. In the accustomization period, it was as if the fog had stolen his senses, leaving him in a vacuum—with him staring at emptiness. Finally, after an interminable wait, the buffering wheel vanished.

Things were slowly beginning to take shape before his very eyes. He felt like he was watching a time lapse video of a painting master having finally taken their brush to paper.

Dark brushstrokes were painting the rest of the world unknown. He saw something resembling the jagged peaks of a mountainous landscape. The strong black lines, ink wash, and the dotted clusters eventually faded into softer, rubbed brushwork suggesting rolling hills and a river. Thin, delicate flicks took the shape of bamboo leaves. The once-empty world before him bled into a scenic vista not unlike that of the Wuyi Mountains he’d toured once in the Fujian province. Mist passed through the scenery like silkscreen, secreting whatever was beneath from his eyes.

The frigid air bit at his exposed neck. He glanced down and balked immediately at the eyeful of his chest. With a curse, he gripped the thin fabric and wrapped them tightly around himself. He breathed in deeply to reorient himself.

This setting was indeed a place that hid tigers and dragons, each one better than the other. Shen Yuan’s mind was still a half-awake jumbled mess as he tried to process that, whether unconsciously or on purpose, an attempt had been made to drag him into a dream world.

Him, Protagonist B—an uninvolved third-party. An innocent outsider. A stranger.

Ah, but dreams are a narrative convenience, is it not?

Memory was stirred of his halcyon days of youth. His time spent as an undergraduate was a fargone blip in his life, a bubble of time separate from everything that had happened before and after. Long ago, a younger Shen Yuan had the privilege of enrolling in throwaway lectures—one of them memorably being a class where he remembered writing detailed study guides about the phenomenology of dreams and imagination. (He faintly recalled his thought process, at the time, must have been: if he’d needed to fulfill his GE credits anyway, he might as well sign up for a few interesting courses pertaining to his hobbies.)

While he never once experienced a lucid dream, he was surprised by the amount of free thinking he seemed to be able to exercise at this present moment. While the lucid-dreamer could deliberately affect the nature of their hallucinatory experience, Shen Yuan dimly recalled the supposed restrictions on the hyperkinetic dream state—the loss of the capability to doubt, for one. Going with the nonsensical flow and the loss of impulse control, as another.

This was entirely uncharted territory.

He wanted to be angry but reaching for it, he found it slipping through the cracks of his fingers like water. The longer he stared down at the clouds of mist, the more that a sense of serenity seeped into him.

The chaos in his mind calming into a tranquil lake, Shen Yuan gazed up at the pair of moons sharing the same sky. A thin sliver of space existed between the two as though an invisible force was prying the two gravitational forces apart, preventing their collision.

In his daze, he could faintly hear the familiar traditional notes of the two-stringed fiddle of the erhu and the gentle plucking of the seven-stringed guqin ; it was as if there were an invisible troupe of musicians playing the essence of Chinese aestheticism and philosophy in the background for him, setting the mood.

In the context of the imaginary, he wasn’t necessarily at a disadvantage.

It was fortunate that the <<SYSTEM>> had preserved control of his consciousness for him, instead of him having to wrest it back.

Allowing his mind to wander, he studied the composition of the painterly world. While Shen Yuan wasn’t an artist himself, he could discern that the expressionistic brushwork and precise details were what art collectors might consider authentic. Enraptured by the flow of the brushwork, he asked, “System, please correct me if I’m wrong, but is the aesthetic of the Heavenly Realm meant to resemble traditional landscape paintings?”

Ping.

【Answer! Much of the open world has been configured to match the existing prerequisites of being ethereal and otherworldly. Would the Esteemed Host like to expend 1,000 B-Points to change the map skin?】

“No!” A dulled pain dug into his palms. The miser in him thought viciously, 1,000 B-Points! Just to change a skin? What a waste!

This abstract setting of celestials and the Heavenly Realm—and whatever else that followed—must have somehow originated from his own imagination. They couldn't have come from his competitor's unpublished drafts; none of this was Airplane brother's style.

Taking another deep breath, he spoke, “System, you said the scenario was called ‘Loading Chekhov’s Gun.’”

Setting aside his omniscient reader viewpoint and writer’s perspective, he supposed it made sense. Being a fortuneteller, his class skill was to divine the future. He didn’t have the whole picture quite just yet, but the <<SYSTEM>> seemed to have faith that he could begin to collect the threads.

“I’m guessing the criteria is discovering most—if not all—the big foreshadowing elements of my unwritten danmei for me to clear it.” Recalling the contents of both webnovels, he spoke carefully, “I was dragged here without my volition by demonic interference. So if I wish to escape, I will need to destroy the core of the illusion—but in a pacifist way?”

Ping.

【Both are correct. Completing the mission objective with an S-Rank will reward the Esteemed Host with 500 B-Points. Lăoshī, jiāyóu!】

There was no mercy in its vocabulary.

“...Yes. Jiāyóu." He repeated the encouragement wryly, dropping his gaze back at his surroundings. He could only thank lǎo tiān yé—god in heaven—that he’d maxed out his charisma.

Shen Yuan definitely needed all the good luck he could get.

Through the mist, the long, snaking river was a black serpent threading through the ashy grayscale of the valleys as far as the eye could see. And then he remembered. Seeing it, he felt a pang of emotion so strong, it exerted a physical pressure on his chest.

“What about Luo Binghe?” His knuckles were as white as his robe. “What has that little demon been up to now, System?”

...Ping!

【Begging the Esteemed Host’s pardon! This <<SYSTEM>> is keyed to Protagonist <<SHEN YUAN>>. If the Esteemed Host is willing to cross the boundary, there is an option to uncover the story with Protagonist <<LUO BINGHE>>. Providing him assistance will ensure Protagonist A’s Satisfaction points.】

The time has finally come.

The water lily trembled under him as he straightened to his feet. From his high altitude, Shen Yuan can see where the mist hugged along the so-called boundary line that separated his dreamworld from Luo Binghe’s.

Since Luo Binghe evidently desired his company, Shen Yuan might as well take initiative and go to him on his own terms. If the mountain cannot come to him, then he will go to the mountain. Overall unity was important to maintain harmony between the protagonists.

“I will store the past and compile a beautiful dream for you,” he promised. He was going to craft a story that was romantic and tangled, replete with heroes, villains, and a well-deserved conquest.

With one foot off the plant, the world spun and he suddenly found himself enclosed in thick walls. He glanced around. Everything had a rough, unfinished painterly quality resembling dried ink wash on paper. Bathed in the shadows, he marched forward in the fog, looking for the nearest exit. His head passed by a circular window, the ricepaper resembling the glow of the moon.

His gaze traveled past the miniature bonsai tree underneath the window’s wooden lattice. Frown lines formed on his face at how thin and small it was.

The visual of it abruptly reminded him of how Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had described Bing gē to be as small and skinny as a carrot at fourteen years of age. In the earlier chapters that took place in his dreamscape, his diantian was a gnarled, black tree overlooking a meadow, with the scantest of flower buds blooming in a barren wasteland—very much indicative of the protagonist’s mindset at the time.

Shen Yuan’s hand drifted absently to his abdomen as he gracefully passed by the pedestal. The source of one’s ability to cultivate was located in the lower stomach, a natural center of the body’s spiritual energy. He could only wonder how his own diantian would appear. Would it reflect his inexperience as a sapling—frail and waning? Or would it have the appearance and bearing of an old, ancient tree—befitting an immortal celestial being?

Funny how it means “elixir field,” he mused to himself, but us authors somehow always depict it as a tree… .

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

As he peered up at the origin of the noise, words suddenly materialized around him. They’d peeled off the building like black strips of paper, suspended midair around him as though they were a sea of constellations surrounding the moon. The small, densely-packed lines of Chinese characters blurred in his vision but he instantly understood.

They were a manifestation of all the predictions he was capable of.

A gust of wind blew. As bountiful as the leaves of a forest canopy, the bamboo scrolls strung overhead swayed with the wind, knocking into each other with crisp clunks.

The long, narrow strips reminded him of the scrolls he had shelved in the Archives room. His servants had shown him how they’d cut and roasted the white bamboo stalks until they became dark, later binding the dried strips with durable thread. All were prepared for their master, to transcribe his manuscripts if not his oracles.

He heard the sloshing of water. Ripples formed beneath his stride as a pale hand reached up. The wide sleeve slipped down his forearm as his fingertips grazed the bottom of a random brown scroll that somehow called to him.

An opulent array of gold flooded his vision.

The imperial palace was a splendor of the Mortal Realm that could not be described, a piece of history that inspired great awe and reverence. In the starry skies, Shen Yuan saw a resplendent celestial being, wearing a monocle of a pearlescent sheen, descend from the full moon. Upon their feet touching the secular world, white faded to black. His hair was tied back and as black as sable, his original facial features—although pale—presented to the world as he approached the solitary figure seated at his rightful place atop the dragon throne.

Like the sun in the skies, Luo Binghe shined with a bright light in one’s eyes. With eyes filled with a thousand words, he was a young emperor in formal black, his austere and distinguished presence instilling a sense of respect into others. An armored cloak decorated his shoulders; the thick white fur sewn into the collar of the embroidered brocade appeared familiar to Shen Yuan for an inexplicable reason.

There was a strange intensity to his expression. With a half-formed smile of indulgence, the newly crowned sovereign was watching how the visiting fortuneteller gazed upon him with immense pride. He genuflected to Luo Binghe in a proper bow.

Time had not left any residue on their faces; they were arguably as handsome as they had been when they’d first met at the beginning. Both held the innate ability to hold one’s eyes on their presence.

Earnest congratulations swelled in the air, stirring the hearts of those in the coronation ceremony when the wise-looking, austere guest gifted the Heavenly Demon official amnesty from the Heavens.

Suddenly Shen Yuan found himself outside.

A fragrance of flowers filled the imperial gardens during the eighth lunar month, a fresh scent that was quiet and distant but able to inspire heartfelt emotions. The courtyard bloomed with lush red and purple chrysanthemums.

He saw himself stopping in place below an osmanthus tree, with the oil-paper umbrella he’d carried shading him. Dancers ahead were moving with dainty steps to a stunning choreography, performing the tale of yearly weather from spring to summer, fall and winter.

Behind his reading monocle, his celestial gaze did not carry evil intent; it was pure and admiring of the beauties capable of overthrowing cities and kingdoms. Respectfully keeping his distance, he maintained a thick atmosphere of an educated appearance, dignified and decently conducted. Next to him were the pots of white blossoms—the sight of them naturally not being a joyous thing for one to gaze at without being reminded of funerals.

From the crowd of spectators appreciating the flowers, the dance, and poems being composed, four sets of eyes flitted over to him—one scarlet and one an overcast sky, and two that were pitch-black.

A Demon Saint, dressed in her infamous gauzy red silks and tiny bells, as coquettish as a temptress. Her complexion was naturally fair, with a type of rare grandeur and dignity in her brows.

A human cultivator who wore a veil over the lower half of her face, hiding the dazzling beauty that was like lilies blooming out of fresh water; a calm and composed beauty that snatched people’s souls.

A young mistress of wealthy bearing, willful and adorable with her childlike-face, wearing her long hair up in a flying fairy style, decorated with pink pearls to match her long, extravagant palace dress. A whip had been strapped to her willow waist.

And another young lady, as fair as a magnolia—and whose lovely mature face had turned ghastly. Became ashen. “It can’t be....” As though she were seeing a ghost from her past, she took an involuntary, compulsive step to him. “Shen Jiu…?”

Various emotions flashed over their fair countenances. Shock. Fear. Disbelief. Confusion. Then a reignited deep hostility formed between their brows, their unsettled eyes as dead as stagnant water—unable to tear like a dry well but filled with bottomless loathing.

A flurry of fabrics blurred in his sight. An arc of red sprayed widely over the flowers of the courtyard, the droplets scattering like crimson petals against the walls. The umbrella clattered to the ground.

A headless body collapsed heavily to its knees. Fell sideways like a log.

A round object soon tumbled over the hot, sticky blood seeping into the cracks of the paved limestone. Red began to stain the long, black roots that were fading back into the color of moonlight.

Through the music and shrill cries, one deep shout shook the Heavens. A howl of rage, there existed the unexpected raw sound of anguish that could chill the blood. There had been too many complicated emotions condensed into that single vocalization, it made everyone who heard this sound feel a stone in their throat.

The swift winds of calamity approached.

A faltering scream, or something like a scream was heard with the sound of numerous lives being extinguished. It was a demented, gut-wrenching retribution that didn’t end, a subjugation forever to be carved into the annals of history.

Shen Yuan broke free from the premonition, gasping like a dying man. His hand scrambled to his neck. Fear tasted like iron in his mouth, the muscles at the base of his throat working convulsively.

Cold sweat beaded down his face as he staggered forward. He felt as though he’d resurfaced from the deep depths of the sea he’d been drowning from. The water sloshed beneath his movements, his inner robe loosening from his abrupt movements.

Ping!

【Prediction! A Death Flag has been discovered. +44 Points. Future Events unlocked. Objectives <<INVITATION TO THE CHRYSANTHEMUM BANQUET>> and <<DEFEATING THE MECHANISMS OF THE PALACE COURT!>> will be available.】

System, why are you giving me so many inauspicious fours! He wanted to tear his hair out! He screamed in his head, The future me was helping your husband for the sake of securing your peace and prosperity! How did you not realize cutting the neck of a celestial immortal from the exalted Heavens would be considered an evil action? Did you think your actions were just and thus exempted from karmic, divine retribution?

Have they lost their minds? How can anyone mistake him for Shen Qingqiu? He was not Shen Jiu!

What a messy affair!

What a disaster!

To say he felt vexed was an understatement. Just now, everything had happened too suddenly. The tangled, chaotic mess of information was too shocking, too absurd. Just what happened to his invincible golden halo? Did inhabiting the mortal coil temporarily dispel it? Was this the stupid【Hidden Penalty】applied to his character creation?

Don’t tell him it was because he was the sort of cutthroat writer who’d kill off his own protagonists for shock value!

He smiled with a trace of bitterness. It was precisely in line with what he’d write. This was just the sort of first-draft content a writer like him might throw in just to be evil but would later put on the chopping block upon revision, when he was no longer fueled by spite.

If he had his laptop, in true keyboard warrior fashion, he’d finger-smash his frustrations in an unintelligible burst of Chinese characters. He’d signed up for a heartwarming, “feel good” pseudo-historical fantasy redemption story with blood-pumping battles and sworn brotherhoods. He did not sign up for angst and heavy subject matters like genocide.

Regaining his equilibrium, he shuddered. Abruptly he recalled a novel passage describing how those who die from a beheading were never to reincarnate. His hand clenched into a fist, his fighting spirit ignited. Shen Yuan resolved himself to trample that death flag. As a transmigrator, he would improve their attitudes toward him and rewrite fate!

He will survive in this world without fail and use whatever means necessary!

However much he didn’t wish to dwell on the vision, he knew he’d seen that monocle somewhere before. The Store inventory?

His heart racing, he threw his memory a little further back until he saw it—vivid and picture-clear in his mind’s eye. It was as if a scene from the distant past had superposed with the present.

<<MONOCLE OF DIVINE CLARITY>>

Wondrous item, legendary

A rare artifact once belonging to Xīwángmǔ, the enchanted crystal lens is rimmed with silver and has a fine chain attached to a jade earclip. Magical properties include Resist Mental Compulsion, True Sight, and enhancement of the wearer’s divination. Effects shall remain active as long as the owner wears it.

Cost: 500,000 B-Points

He’d remembered thinking, Just whose imagination did this goddess’ treasure originate from? So expensive! Monocles were a fashion statement used to highlight certain shrewd men in Chinese novels, but the eyewear was ultimately a Western 18th-century invention overseas and not of ancient China. Such historical inaccuracy! He’d wished to file a complaint! Shen Yuan remembered the grievances he’d lamented to the <<SYSTEM>>, only to be coolly rebuffed with the encouragement to continue to work hard.

But despite its exorbitant price-tag, he’d now received visual confirmation that he would eventually acquire ownership—whether the relic would be purchased by his own merit or it would enter his hands as a byproduct of the halo’s extraordinary luck. Although there was a sense of accomplishment in knowing, it paled in comparison against his newfound conviction.

Only the shallow groove between his brows betrayed his profound distress. There was no point dwelling on an omen that hadn’t happened yet. His counterattack would have to wait.

With a hand still shielding his throat, his breathing slowly, eventually, returning to a semblance of normalcy, Shen Yuan warily glanced around the painterly surroundings.

Somehow he’d found his way to the border. No words could capture the feeling he felt standing in the midst of a bamboo grove painted into existence from ground charcoal and ink wash. A retinue of monumental statues flanked him, weathered with time—and unrecognizable with their faceless features.

Walking by, he craned his neck to stare momentarily up at the features of two of them. A man and a woman. The man was of taller stature, with the suggestion of a goatee. The woman wore a headdress; an ominous hairline crack bisected her torso. Their placement indicated they were husband and wife, the intricate details carved on the white jade making them appear regal and imposing.

A sense of dejavú filled his thoughts. He couldn’t tell who they were meant to represent, but they felt familiar. Like he should know who they all were, but recognition of gods and the divine slipped through his fingers.

The misty ground had given way back to a transient void of white. He could see clearly where his dream realm ended and Luo Binghe’s dream realm started. It was as though a curtain had been drawn, an aurora of northern lights protecting a blank white canvas from being blotted. Across the boundary, he could see something up ahead in the eternal darkness. In the desolation that engulfed the night, an ominous shroud of miasma roiled overhead.

Like a soldier preparing for the battlefield, he steeled his resolve. With one firm slap to his cheeks, he bridged the gap.

The moment he crossed the threshold, a fierce demonic Qi surged toward him like a violent gale of desert wind which threatened to strip the skin from his bones. His knees nearly buckled under him as irony, sorrow, and bitterness besieged him. He had to resist all compulsion to turn back as the darkness caged him at once. He floated aimlessly in the darkened landscape, inexplicable feelings of loneliness arising within.

Shen Yuan narrowed his eyes, calming his inner turmoil.

He had to tell himself dreams did not reflect reality; they were merely a projection of someone’s subconscious. Even so, it painted a bleak picture of his xiōng dì's mental state.

Descending from the night skies, Shen Yuan was an ethereal figure dressed in white, the thin garment fluttering behind him as he took the invisible steps down into the foreign dream realm. In the infinite cosmos, he saw nothing but stars. He cast a cursory look over the bioluminescent glow rippling under him with each tread, like an otherworldly procession, until his feet finally touched the earth.

The sound of wings flapping caught his attention. Shen Yuan twisted his head, seeing a majestic fènghuáng burst free from his own heavenly realm. The immortal phoenix soared high overhead, the five sacred colors—red, blue, yellow, white, and black—of its serrated tail feathers trailing behind it. A beautiful cry escaped its throat like a song.

A mighty roar shattered the night. The air pressure shifted. As though answering the phoenix’s call, a fierce and powerful lóng ascended from the dark depths of the realm, brackish water trembling off its black scales as it shot up to give chase after the fènghuáng ’s vibrant plumage.

He watched their aerial dance in flight. Like yin and yang coming together, seeing their bodies twist and weave with one another in a harmonious sight made an intensity arise from the bottom of his heart.

The relief he felt was all-consuming. Every Chineseman knew of the dragon-and-phoenix metaphor of olden times. And if the mythical phoenix dared to take flight in this dream realm, in a demon’s home turf, surely it was an auspicious sign that Bing gē was not too far gone in darkness and corruption.

Feeling a renewed lightness on his feet, Shen Yuan went to follow.

The moment that the dragon surfaced, he had registered a faraway presence. It was a feeling of awareness, a slight prickling sensation of the scalp, making him feel self-conscious. He was hyper-aware that he was not alone. Even if Luo Binghe had been preoccupied, there was no way Protagonist A would not have sensed Protagonist B’s presence—and vice versa.

If Shen Yuan’s world had been representative of the heavenly air and water, much like the man himself Luo Binghe’s spirit root was aligned with the earth. His hand drifted back to his throat. The air was as arid as a desert. If memory served Shen Yuan correctly, Luo Binghe also had an innate affinity with the fire attribute. It’d been discovered during his time in the Endless Abyss arc once the demon seal had been broken, indicative of his high sensibility to the fire type of Qi.

Hearing noises behind him, he glanced over his shoulder. Leaves had sprung from the blackened branches, rustling in the wind. Moonlight dripped through the gaps in the canopy, reflecting mottled shadows. He had been following along a ravine which’d shimmered gold, curious where the running water led to. Presumably it would take him to wherever Luo Binghe—and Meng Mo?—wanted him to see.

Tucking the long strands of his hair behind an ear, he halted midstride when he heard, “...a...re...f...ul….”

He’d heard that quiet murmur before—that time at the pond, didn’t he? A woman’s cadence. Like the babbling of a brook, as faint as the wind, with accents of a beauty hitherto unknown. He glanced at the waters, keeping his expression impassive.

Ping.

【Do exercise caution, Esteemed Host! One should not turn their back on an opponent.】

Shen Yuan was silent. He cast his gaze sidelong to the trees for a fleeting moment. As though addressing someone in the prevailing shadows, he purposely stated aloud, “I don’t make mistakes in recognizing talent. I have no intention of making Luo Binghe my opponent.”

Without another word, he resumed his stroll. His sight was fixed on the miasma ahead.

On the account of the premonition, it was at no fault of Luo Binghe’s that Shen Yuan would lose his head to the man’s wives. If anything, it’d sounded as though Protagonist A would seek to avenge him—even if the way he reacted was extreme and heartless.

Don’t you know, he wanted to tell his junior, if you do too many bad things, you will get retribution?

Truly, the future Shen Yuan must have maxed out his affection meter. Luo Binghe must have deeply treasured their friendship—or his counsel—to the point where he was capable of callously dismissing his former lovey-dovey attachments to help the dead deliver justice. However much pity Shen Yuan felt for the young women for how easily their husband detestably threw them aside, it was still an immensely heartfelt gesture he showed for the deceased. Even a rock would feel moved.

It made him remember the con-crit he’d left on the online forum, where he detailed how cool he felt the portrayal of a hateful and sinister Bing gē was—a refreshingly blackened hero who repaid debts of kindness and grudges. As expected of the “black-bellied” male lead, once the favorability meter was full, his inner protectiveness to the ones he held in high esteem would appear.

...Shen Yuan, you are putting the cart before the horse, he scolded himself. Stop thinking about something useless. Don’t meddle in his personal affairs too much.

Petals scattered, rolling along with no control whatsoever over their destiny, adrift and aimless. Strands of moonlit hair billowed with the breeze, leading his attention from his feet to across the distance. He focused on the sparse meadow that had wrapped itself in the embrace of the autumn equinox.

In the inky darkness, he saw a field of red spider lilies blooming in the hellish wasteland along a golden stream, leading to the gnarled tree—dark and twisted and silhouetted with demonic Qi.

So this was Luo Binghe’s diantian.... It was as depressing of a sight as Shen Yuan had envisioned. The scent of death lingered in the air, an earthy perfume of graveyard soil and decay intermingling into the overwhelmingly floral fragrance, suffusing into the senses.

Under the swathe of demonic miasma drifting down from the sky like ash, the drooping red petals seemed ready to fall, swaying dreamily, but holding fast to their slim, strong stalks. The movement added something alive to the manjusaka’s fragility, to their ethereal quality, almost human in the way a flower could demonstrate both frailty and endurance at the same time.

He felt a faint sense of dread as he began to wander deeper into the crimson field, feeling a pressure over his head that was overbearing and suffocating. The flowers parted before him, the petals brushing his sleeves and hair like covetous fingers. He’d half-expected to see the heavenly flowers descending from the realm of the Gods, according to Buddhist scriptures. There was an old Chinese legend of two fairies who had been punished by the gods to be seperated for all eternity. As gods’ design, the petals could only blossom when the leaves were all withered away.

A flower of separation, and with its poisonous bulb, the red spider lily held a dark connotation that appealed to writers. They were well-known metaphors in eastern literature.

Memories poured in like the tide. Grown in Diyu—the realm of the dead or “hell” where souls were sent to repent and be purified—they were symbolic of guiding the dead into their next reincarnation. If anyone had asked him about what it meant in the language of flowers, Shen Yuan would say he associated the red spider lily with feelings of abandonment, longing, lost memories, and final parting. He’d referenced the symbolism before in a past work, underscoring its morbid resemblance to splashes of blood.

Shen Yuan stared with narrowed eyes. There was a certainty in him that he could not describe. But with how the dream realm had been described in the webnovels, there was absolutely no way Luo Binghe, or the elder Meng Mo, had a hand in this.

For any onlookers looking in from the outskirts, this scene must have presented a baffling sight. He remembered the pride displayed by both versions of the elder dream demon when it came to showing off their control over illusions to a young and impressionable disciple of mixed-blood. Shen Yuan wouldn’t be surprised if Meng Mo was presently frothing at the mouth, seeing a celestial being mess with his precious host’s control.

There was an indescribable eeriness permeating everywhere ever since he’d walked into the flower field.

System, he accused, this must be your doing. Just what are you trying to prove to this old man?

There was no story without coincidences. When countless coincidences crashed altogether, the truth came to light.

Ping.

【Answering the Esteemed Host, the thousand year white resurrection lily is a gateway to the world of the deceased. It receives the memories of a departing soul before one crosses the Nai Ha bridge to pass into their next life, and can therefore be harvested to bring back the souls of the dead. Should Protagonist <<SHEN YUAN>> accept the quest, there is a resurrection subplot to bring back wronged supporting characters from the Earth Realm.】

Hearing the explanation, Shen Yuan’s mind leapt to the original Shen Qingqiu.

Even Shen Yuan, who’d originally called for the “scumbag’s” castration like many other fans, after having read the rebooted series, felt that the original Shen Qingqiu was deserving of sympathy points. At the mercy of his own duplicitous personality, the emotionally stunted character had adhered to the mensao archetype through and through—flopping between the two states of “hot and cold.” It had been revealed that many of the crimes Shen Qingqiu had been accused of had been the result of various egregious misunderstandings and miscommunications.

An ache wormed its way into his heart. There had been so many casualties, so many people who had their lives cut short. The Qing Jing Peak Lord, Shen Qingqiu; the Sect Master of the Qiong Ding Peak, Yue Qingyuan; the Bai Zhan Peak Lord and Liu Mingyan’s elder brother, Liu Qingge; Luo Binghe’s blood-related parents Su Xiyan and Tianlang jun….

They were good people. They weren’t his creations, but their roles as the small “mobs”—side characters—led to their potential being shorn woefully short.

It was perhaps pretentious and presumptuous of him to decide those to be allowed to come back from the dead—defying the natural order of things—but for someone to be essentially granted a second chance at life, to right regrets and live their rebirth to the fullest, who would refuse? Celestial beings were meant to have magnanimous hearts, moving the sky and earth for once-in-a-lifetime noble souls.

So wasn’t it just and righteous if such extreme action was taken?

Ping.

【Optional objective <<JOURNEY TO THE NETHERWORLD>> is available. Does the Esteemed Host wish to accept? Y/N?】

He glanced at the UI. Within that brief moment, Shen Yuan had already made many deliberations and judgements. Just as he was about to cement his decision, he heard the faintest trickle of music—and with it, murmurs.

“...P...le...ase….”

His body instinctively tensed. A thick stench of blood pervaded the air, suffocating the floral fragrance with a metallic odor of iron.

...Why do I hear <<BOSS>> music?

Shen Yuan swatted the interface away from him, hissing beneath his breath, “Some other time.”

Whispers, male and female, crept through the silence. They drifted into his hearing, mournful and piteous, like wounded animals in close pursuit of their prey. Growing louder and louder.

“May...the Heavens...have mercy....”

“Save us.”

“Anyone….”

Under the night sky, he appeared calm, but his mind was already as turbulent as the storming seas.

At the sound of rustling, an archaic flight instinct had him spinning on his feet. A crack had formed in his expression. Skeletal arms were outstretched toward him from the crimson field.

Infinitely long, they dripped with blood, the droplets scattering onto the lilies like rain.

His hand instinctively reached for his sword as he watched the illusion crawl toward his ankles and the hem of his robe. His brows tightly-knitted, there was a chill to his face that was very different than during the daytime—as if he were a different person.

Some battles had to be fought another day. To avoid damaging his or Luo Binghe’s psyche, he’d have to beat a tactical retreat.

Just as he was about to soar away like a sparrow, he heard a distinct, metallic shnnk. He jerked in surprise when an arm abruptly materialized around his waist, embracing Shen Yuan from behind like an iron snare.

A black demonic blade swung in a wide arc.

The skeletal arms were obliterated in a torrent of midnight wildfire, limbs bursting open in wet splatters of blood.

The heat pressed against his back was as solid and grounding as a tree trunk, the strong and rapid heartbeat incomparably clear in his ears as the roaring flames extinguished themselves. All petals had been scattered from the mighty gust, strands of black and white hair flowing together in the wind.

In the blanket of darkness came the hysterical thought of a wild Bing gē having appeared. The culprit has, at last, deigned to show his guilty face.

“Shizun….”

The mere sound of him strummed the bowstring in his own heart with a loud tremor.

In a tone as soft as peach blossoms, silky and gentle, Luo Binghe whispered to Shen Yuan, “I’ve finally found you.”

The hoarseness of the man’s voice was albeit strange. Thrown off-kilter, Shen Yuan thought that there might have been something wrong, but he didn’t trust himself to say anything yet without it being misconstrued.

Hot puffs of air brushed against his cheek. That, with the scent of rice water and rose petals and something else masculine and unfamiliar, was distracting. Luo Binghe was quietly repeating the phrase, "I found you."

Mustering his courage, Shen Yuan peered over his shoulder. Both brows soared to his hairline when he saw a hallucination of a hundred flowers blooming at once.

A circle of red peeked out from the charcoal of Luo Binghe’s eyes. His attractive features were akin to the warmth of the early spring sunshine on flower petals that, for a moment, Shen Yuan could not differentiate between north and south.

Shen Yuan blinked once—twice, to clear the hallucination. It was only when he realized what he was seeing that Shen Yuan felt dumbstruck. He could feel his own facial muscles beginning to contort.

Unbelievable. The corners of his mouth launched upwards out of his control, but the ludicrous smile was suppressed by him before it could take flight completely. How utterly audacious.

Luo Binghe’s long, dark hair was let loose like a waterfall. And he was shamelessly wearing nothing but a thick, white pelt over his bare torso.

Having been the one to strike down the mythical beast, Shen Yuan instantly recognized the fur draped over broad shoulders. It was the divine báihǔ pelt the servants had laid out over the bed to help their guest conserve heat for the winter. Draped over bare skin, it’d lent the younger man a distinctly wild impression.

Luo Binghe’s breathing was a little unstable. Wrapping his other arm around Shen Yuan, he closed his eyes. Nosing the soft white hair, he remarked, "Shizun has a pleasant scent...."

Shen Yuan’s expression remained a frozen lake. What was with this ambience?

Faced with an unprecedented scenario, Shen Yuan didn’t know how to make it less awkward and help them both save face. The extent of his adult experience with hugging strangers had been starting conversations or meetings with a handshake, and ending it with a brisk hug whenever the whim hit. Even his own father, himself and his two brothers had communicated mostly with manly pats to the shoulder or the back. Perhaps such discomfort could be attributed to a cultural custom which persisted long after the death of Chairman Mao back in 1976. Initiating physical contact still remained somewhat of a learning curve among friends and family members, with some notable exceptions like the comforting touches given to a cute child or the hugs given by an overbearing grandparent.

Despite his current appearance, Shen Yuan was still a man; even though it was not the soft figure of a woman being pressed up against him, it was embarrassing being held by another man so fiercely.

Even knowing everything there was to know about Luo Binghe, he was essentially a stranger to Shen Yuan. The whole experience was surreal, like being hugged by a movie star who could just as easily change his mind and decide to crush his windpipe.

Shen Yuan didn’t dare to look down to confirm the extent of Luo Binghe’s undressed state. What if he accidentally bore witness to a wardrobe mishap and caught a glimpse of that legendary, heavenly sky pillar—or see a blinding tower of light? He wouldn’t be able to recover from such humiliation! To avoid that blow to his ego, he would be better off pretending everything was normal. I am a morally upright citizen with the heart of an angel, he chanted to himself like a sutra. I must remain patient and benevolent with today’s hot-blooded youth.

With the two of them locked in a stalemate, Shen Yuan slowly felt his sanity returning to him. Standing as still as a statue, he ruminated on the best method to address this situation with an appropriateness that wouldn’t trigger a landmine.

He patted Luo Binghe’s forearm in a consoling manner, but it was also an unsubtle cue for him to release him.

The arms only tightened in persistence.

Shen Yuan frowned at his “stickiness.” He felt as though they were unintentionally stealing this particular romantic encounter from a youth’s passionate spring dreams. Since this was ancient China, it was truly lucky that he wasn’t being hugged by a young woman, or else he’d be worried about impacting her reputation—even if nothing had happened.

Traces of resignation formed between unpigmented brows. “...Xiōng dì, I am appreciative to you for having found your way to me.” Now that the arrow had been drawn, it had to be released. As exasperated as he felt, he asked with no small amount of concern, “Are you suffering from any mental backlash? I am aware of what happens when one retaliates at an illusion.”

A shaky exhalation of breath was heard. Instead of answering his question, Luo Binghe replied with much sorrow, “This lord deserves to die. However much this lord hastened to reunite with you the moment I saw your resplendent presence descending from the sky, it is unfortunate we met just as harm was about to befall upon Shizun.”

His voice had been mellow, with a hint of the liveliness to it that only young people had. It made it all the more easy for people to develop goodwill towards a valiant, dazzlingly handsome lord.

...I know of your tricks, little demon. Are you testing the sincerity of my well intentions? Furthermore, how do you manage to sound like a pitiful puppy...while your body...looks so erotic...? Bing gē, you truly have a duplicitous, villainous heart.

Shen Yuan refused to fall into the scheme of this little wolfdog. To avoid a perilous situation, he must go on the counterattack.

Instead, he turned in his arms. Luo Binghe’s eyes snapped open when Shen Yuan framed his face in his gloveless palms.

Shen Yuan inspected his features closely, putting on a stern look. He wiped away the big drops of sweat that flowed down the Heavenly Demon’s forehead, chastising, “You move me to tears, Luo Binghe. Did I not warn you to work on your bad habit of bearing everything silently?” Every word and sentence was leaden with camaraderie. His fingers drifted down to clasp him by the elbows. “You’ve forgotten this one is clairvoyant. Instead of concealing your intentions from me, this master shall willingly lend you his ear if you come bearing any troubling thoughts or concerns.”

What was the use of having a glib tongue if it couldn’t be put to good use? Time to wield his +20 CHARISMA to its full devastating potential!

“Although we are strangers, I hope, with time, you can be the truest version of yourself with me. I will not think any less of you at a sign of weakness.” The nature of heroic warriors emphasised on cultivating relationships and respect. Shen Yuan knew to repay a kind act with gratitude. Concentrating on his channels, he sent a pulse of his spirit energy to his yin -depleted companion through their point of contact.

Luo Binghe’s eyelids fluttered half-mast as gentle and clean spiritual power circulated throughout his meridians. The sensation was reminiscent of a cold spring drizzle watering the arid soil, the strain in his body receding for the time being.

Under a more impertinent tone, Shen Yuan told him, “Even if you willfully choose to disregard my reading, I cannot help but be concerned seeing how gallantly and recklessly you continue down this path of self-destruction. Just look at the state of your own diantian. Even the peerless ‘Luo Demon’ of the battlefield who is said to be able ‘to withstand the skies and earth’ should not be uncompromising regarding one’s own health.”

Shen Yuan knew from personal experience. However much the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak.

A hand slowly left his waist, moving to close over the back of Shen Yuan’s palm. Carefully sizing him up, his scarlet gaze, as he looked at Shen Yuan, held a few degrees more affection.

Ping.

【Protagonist A Satisfaction points +25.】

Twenty-five points instead of five or ten? You must have felt so good, you’d reached the heavens. Shen Yuan granted a lukewarm smile towards the future tyrant, patting the white fur over his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes. Many thanks to Shizun.” His line of sight drifted downward, and suddenly his attention was the ravenous gaze of a tiger.

Heat rushed in Shen Yuan’s body like the torrential flood. You’re a married husband who’s bedded countless beauties throughout the years , he’d nearly rebuked. What was so interesting about seeing an old man’s chest anyway? He averted his face. Forcing a calm and unwavering tone, he invited, “Since we’re here, walk with me, Luo Binghe.”

Perhaps it was due to the strange air of two men bonding that grinded down Luo Binghe’s stubborn temperament, but his iron hold had loosened, giving Shen Yuan ample opportunity to break free. Righting the night garment back into its proper place, he turned his feet in the direction toward his own dream realm.

“Luo Binghe…. My son….”

Shen Yuan glanced over his shoulder, his stride slowing. Somehow, even as a figment of his imagination, he instantly knew whom this voice was supposed to belong to—maternal and lonely and sorrowful, full of regrets.

“I beg of you…. Help him….”

“Shizun?”

He gazed at the field of spider lilies with a considering look. With each step they’d taken, the blood-red color had faded into white. “...You do not hear anything?” he asked slowly.

Luo Binghe granted him an unfathomable look, before shaking his head. The fur of the báihǔ rustled with the small movements.

“So it’s like that.... May the elder dream demon who has taken this younger demon under his wing forgive my divine interference.” Sensing he’d captured Luo Binghe’s rapt attention from that frivolous declaration, Shen Yuan scrutinized the person who had been walking shoulder to shoulder with him.

To anyone looking in, they perhaps presented an incompatible image. Visually, as protagonists, they were as different as day and night—indicative of the two different writing styles of the two novelists.

As the celestial representative, there was a kind of romantic, quiet and unrestrained air of a distinguished literary person. Even with such mature looks, like the dark side of the moon, they paled in comparison to the blinding brilliance that was Luo Binghe whose presence was as bright as the sun in the sky. He personified those who walked with a dragon’s gait and firm tiger’s steps, with a vigour and prestige that unknowingly overflowed out; and with a cultivator’s valor, such presentation could make his opponent easily frightened. Shen Yuan could still recall his rough touch and that vise-like strength. Although Luo Binghe appeared innocent, he was actually enigmatic and difficult-to-predict. It made Shen Yuan want to test him.

Affecting an air of indifference, Shen Yuan mentioned as casually as he could, “That aside, I have a question for you. I was hoping you could satisfy my curiosity.”

Luo Binghe’s gaze was a dozen stones piled on the side of his face. He bade, “May Shizun speak candidly.”

“You must have given thought to my predictions. Knowing what xiōng dì knows now, what else does Luo Binghe intend to ask this one?” Seeing Luo Binghe was about to respond, Shen Yuan shook his head. “Don’t give me the answer you think I will want to hear. Be frank. For you to chase me in my dreams, you must be burdened with a thirst for knowledge.”

“...This lord wishes to learn more,” Luo Binghe confessed, looking unapologetic. “The strong prey on the weak; that is how the world works. As one who can get a glimpse of fate, Shizun is an indispensable source of guidance. Before this lord arrived here, I had been in a daze and felt helpless. Then elder Shen Yuan helped clear the fog in my head. The future has never been clearer.”

Shen Yuan hid the cynical smile in his heart.

Now we get to the crux of the matter…. Very well; he will fulfill the desperate wish of the imaginary Su Xiyan. He would help her son.

First, he had to establish a common enemy or obstacle.

“You are fortunate. Although it’s unorthodox, seeing as we are in a dream realm, seeing once is preferable to hearing a hundred times. You can do with the knowledge of your future later however you want.” He glanced forward, seeing the boundary line just across the barren wasteland. “Should you see intervening forces or hindrances to your survival or success, even if both parties once harbored goodwill, what will Luo Binghe do?”

There were countless variables on the chessboard. How he chose to answer him would decide where Shen Yuan will point the spear to.

Sensing the weight of his tone, Luo Binghe mulled over his words for a moment. A dark storm swirled in his eyes. Gazing at him as though he intended to test him, he spoke with severity, unfalteringly, “If one were to offend me, this lord will definitely exterminate the entire family.”

Shen Yuan somehow managed a serene expression despite hearing such a bloodthirsty declaration. A ferocious answer that has exceeded expectations, of course. Bing gē, your inferiority complex is showing.

He knew just the perfect scapegoats.

One was the son of heaven—the current emperor of the Mortal Realm himself. His fate was sealed the moment he’d declared the exceptional demon lord to be a threat and that the middle kingdom would not be content with nothing short of his destruction.

Second was the Old Palace Master—the sect leader of the still-surviving Huan Hua Palace. That pervert was the poisonous snake that was entrenched in the grass, waiting for an opportunity to strike and bite his son-in-law to death.

And lastly, the most crucial, would be the symbol of everything that had gone wrong in Luo Binghe’s life. He was the ideal sacrificial pawn, for that person was an existence Luo Binghe would definitely not be able to touch even if he harbored resentment.

Ping!

【Warning! Allowing Protagonist <<LUO BINGHE>> knowledge of the powers that be is prohibited. A penalty will be imposed on the Esteemed Host should you continue!】

System, Shen Yuan roared in his head, must you undermine everything I do? Even as his fingers curled into fists, he resolutely maintained his mild forbearance as they approached the boundary. He thought viciously, If you’re so worried, then why don’t you activate a filter to edit what I’m saying into something that suits this world?

Ping.

【The Esteemed Host voluntarily wishes for censorship?】

Not censorship! Just filter any forbidden words into something of similar equivalence. I give you permission! Just don’t meddle! This is a critical stage toward jumpstarting Bing gē’s character development!

Now that he thought about it, naturally the main reason why many of the modern characters never admitted to being a transmigrator was out of fear of being seen as crazy. Shen Yuan could count on one hand the number of stories where the protagonist admitted to actually being one.

Wasn’t he in an optimal position where he could be believed? The intimate act of exchanging secrets brought people even closer. Shen Yuan was not above using the same emotional tricks to lure Luo Binghe to his side.

A sudden warmth jostled him out of his thoughts. Just as he heard the notification that the filter had been activated, he noticed Luo Binghe had stepped closer to him. Body heat transferred to Shen Yuan from their proximity. He could smell the scent of fur.

His smile was ferocious, as if he were a vicious wolf. “The ways of the heavens are merciless.” A hand lifted to play with the loose white strands. Luo Binghe seemed to have found his albinism curious. “While this lord is appreciative to elder Shen Yuan, I am aware that immense hatred and bad blood has existed between the moral sects and demonkind for generations. Yet you’ve magnanimously harbored me at your residence and shared with me my bright future. Aren’t you worried your celestial brethren will accuse you of collusion with this lord for your own benefit?”

Brows that were as pale as the snow rose at the provocative words. Although I haven’t met such “celestial brethren,” to think you would see the bigger picture of classism and discrimination.... Sighing in his heart, Shen Yuan realized he must have misjudged him. He hadn’t thought a formidable, blackhearted stallion protagonist like himself could be broad-sighted. Luo Binghe, I never thought you’d grow up overnight.

“...I don’t think you’re rotten.”

“Hm?”

“On account of you being half-demon,” he clarified. “Judging a person by their birth and social status is proof that a person is narrow-minded. I have seen with my own eyes how hard you work and I sincerely admire your potential.”

As the old saying went, one should never look down on youngsters. If they worked hard, the future of young people was boundless, and they will inevitably turn the situation around.

On the surface level, Luo Binghe spoke with a refreshing candor and treated others warmly and sincerely. He was not unreasonable, and he was as filial as they come—showing favoritism and loyalty toward those he held in high esteem. It was only when he faced adversity or found himself on the battlefield that he would be merciless—so no matter how much goodwill others showed him, it was useless if he held secret grievances toward them in his heart.

“Moreover, you’ve surely heard for all your life that an alliance between a human and a demon would truly be a laughingstock of this world.” He held Luo Binghe’s riveted stare. “...But I’m looking at that impossible unity right now.”

A brittle expression melted into existence. “...And what of the celestial gods and fairies of the Heavenly Realm?”

“What of them?”

“Do they hold the same broadmindedness as Shizun?”

Shen Yuan eyed him. When he remained silent, Luo Binghe understood he had gotten his answer.

“...Shizun is a precious existence,” Luo Binghe remarked. “The world has its own rules. And everything within it follows them.”

While it was true that good wordbuilding was kept within its sandbox, Shen Yuan didn’t think upholding such a limitation applied to individuals equipped with the protagonist’s halo. Protagonists were meant to break convention.

Shen Yuan corrected, “Just because a celestial is an immortal body of divinity does not mean I am beholden to share the same outdated values.【My way of thinking is modern and doesn’t suit the current times.】Knowing what I know, naturally there would be some deviation.”

He paused, realizing what had emerged from his mouth.

What he’d meant to say was that he was a transmigrator and that was why his way of thinking deviated from canon NPCs! This was supposed to be the moment he revealed to him his shocking identity!

Shen Yuan tried again, “It would be the height of folly to dismiss your capabilities just because of your birthright.【You are meant to stand at the peak of the dynasty overlooking all living beings.】Regardless, I will support you whether you choose to be the Sacred Ruler or if you decide to live a simpler life.”

His expression immediately sunk. It happened again! He’d meant to say, because Luo Binghe was the stallion protagonist, his meteoric rise was inevitable.

Luo Binghe had been keenly watching the byplay of emotions on Shen Yuan’s face as he spoke. As he saw the neutrality melt into heated frustration, Luo Binghe naturally formed his own assumptions from it. Under a softened tone, he repeated, “A simpler life?”

A stone had lodged itself in his throat. Shen Yuan had wanted to express to the young man that he didn’t want to pressure him into taking on the burden and responsibilities of a duty he wasn’t ready for, but he hadn’t expected to be hit with a burst of memories.

It made him remember his own family life. Before this madness.

“Being alive is actually a wonderful thing.” Nostalgia swept across his features. “...You are a grown man, Luo Binghe. Just because you have the potential to be great doesn’t mean you should be forced into something if it isn’t what you want to do.”

Wracking his brain for how to address the concept of Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky without having Shen Yuan’s original intention changed drastically, he confided, “I’m not like your creator. I don’t want to erase your agency; I wish to see if you can transcend your original settings.”

The mood changed in a flash. “My creator?” Luo Binghe’s tone was sharp. The white hair was released as he impulsively reached for Shen Yuan’s arms. “What does Shizun mean?”

He could see the vibrancy of the demon crest on Luo Binghe’s forehead, being this close to him. As though commenting on the weather, Shen Yuan remarked cavalierly, “Have you not found it strange that, despite not committing any wrongdoings, you’d perhaps suffered more misfortunes than anyone else—as though they’d been preordained? A storm tests the strength of a blade of grass. You were orphaned, twice, as a child. People picked on you when you were defenseless. A reputably famous immortal selected you as a disciple, but upon seeing your potential, swiftly went to undercut it. At just a young age, you’ve seen the duplicity of human hearts, fought countless tough opponents, and endured numerous betrayals and hardships.”

Luo Binghe’s expression had hardened.

“Your destiny has been【manipulated by a higher power】to hasten your growth.” Undergoing tribulations was not a foreign concept. In the Cultivation World, cultivators were expected to undergo tests from the Heavens to determine if they were worthy of ascension. “Most would be crushed under such trials, but your will to live is strong. Thus your rate of progress has been accelerated because of such painstaking efforts.”

You are indeed a far mightier man than I could ever be. With your head-start, even if I challenge you countless times, I will never be able to claim victory currently with how unfairly OP you are.

“You are claiming there has been a higher power who has caused this lord much grief and misery, all in accordance to a predestined plan he has prophesied for me?” Luo Binghe’s voice was deceptively gentle.

Shen Yuan hesitated.

“Shen Yuan.”

Seeing that all pretenses were already thrown to the wind, Shen Yuan had no inhibitions anymore. He could only apologize to Airplane brother in his heart, for turning his creation against him and making him an unfilial son.

Shen Yuan opened his mouth. “You aren’t【my creation.】It is frowned upon for【gods and immortals】to poach【extraordinary heroes】from their【patronage】without permission.”

Maintaining a genial facade, Luo Binghe expressed with a sincerity that rang a little false, “This lord simply wishes to know which deity to pay humble respects to for their gracious sponsorship.”

An enigmatic smile stole across Shen Yuan’s face. “One could say every living thing such as yourself and everything beautiful and evil in this world sprung from his imagination. His【name has been lost with time.】But I know him as elder Xiàng Tiān Dà Fēijī."

Those dark brows drew downward. “Xiàng Tiān Dà...Fēijī?”

Ah, of course you wouldn’t know what an airplane is. Shen Yuan ruminated for a moment before reaching up for Luo Binghe’s wrists. As though he were an older brother admonishing one’s insensible younger brother, he said graciously, “Fēijī gēis a controversial but well-respected figure within our circles. His writings are not without merit.”

His words were mostly self-serving, but had Airplane brother been in his shoes, Shen Yuan would have wanted him to elevate his standing in front of his “children.” Even if it was just by a little.

Under the same earnest tone, Shen Yuan insisted, “He might have lost his integrity in the past but he has always held well intentions and wants to see his【creations】flourish. You, especially, were his original written masterpiece.”

Luo Binghe’s gaze fell on the pale fingers encircled around his wrists. “And where does Shen Yuan fall into all this?”

In life, it was not possible to bloom bright flowers from lies. Try as he might to hide it, his smile became strained from the memories of his painful past—of how much time he’d wasted, how much rénmínbì he’d spent out of his own wallet. Shen Yuan confessed, “I was once an admirer of his before I grew disillusioned. Your life is full of tragic misunderstandings. That’s why I want to see if I can rewrite the travesty of the future you’ve been shoehorned into. Your journey has been of interest to me the moment he【birthed】you and this world.”

Luo Binghe’s hands refused to budge from him no matter how much force was exerted. Shen Yuan frowned.

“Is your remark real?” Seeing Shen Yuan’s confusion, he clarified, “That you would be willing to overstep boundaries and break from celestial tradition to offer your support to this lord?”

“I’m not being facetious.” Shen Yuan scrutinized his handsome features. “We know what you are meant to do. Fēijī gē had set you up for greatness. With your power, you will surely achieve justice and bring the evils of the Three Realms to judgement, and unify the realms as the Sacred Ruler. And once you’ve served your purpose, your story is at its end. I’ve seen your ending. Your great legacy will ultimately be remembered as nothing more than a tragic, bitter wastrel who, even with your accomplishments, had wasted away and perished under suspicious circumstances.”

Dark storm clouds gathered in Luo Binghe’s expression.

“But knowing all that, what does Luo Binghe want to do?” Shen Yuan spoke brusquely. “Don’t care what I think. You have free will, do you not? It’s one thing for me to advise you against the misfortunes you’ll encounter. But do you even want to be a Sacred Ruler? I would like to hear the input of his own creation.”

“...In the eyes of the virtuous, this lord will always be a wicked and unspeakable evil that must be slayed. In the eyes of aristocrats, I will never get ahead. To them, I will always be the son of a penniless washerwoman.” His voice had been calm and waveless, but there was a trace of heavy tension—and a fatalism that’d felt suffocating. With the air of a galvanized, hot-blooded warlord in battle, Luo Binghe declared, “This lord will not find peace until none would dare oppose me, and I attain everything that has been denied to me.”

How selfish, Shen Yuan couldn’t help but think. But he supposed it made sense. In the past, Luo Binghe had always been the one trampled underfoot, but now that the shoe was on the other foot, it was to be expected he’d want to take everything he thought to belong to him.

He asked Luo Binghe again, “Do you still want to honor Fēijī’s wishes for you and become his Sacred Ruler? Or do you want to travel a different path? The present is different from the past or future. I will respect whichever decision you make.”

Luo Binghe repeated the words “the present is different from the past or future” softly. Those charcoal eyes scrutinized him back.

Shen Yuan had a sudden realisation in his heart when Luo Binghe raised his palm reverently to the back of Shen Yuan’s hand. He kept his expression wooden when a beatific smile bloomed across Luo Binghe’s features, chasing away the prior shadows.

“This lord,” Luo Binghe announced with the finality of a man making a solemn vow, “will never accept Fēijī ’s patronage. Such a thoughtless, presumptuous, good-for-nothing creator is unfit to lick my boots.”

...I express my deepest apologies, Airplane brother. Please do not transmigrate into this world like your Self-Insert in the rebooted novels—or you will be made into mincemeat.

Ping.

【Protagonist A Satisfaction points +99.】

Shen Yuan nearly swallowed his tongue upon hearing it. It took everything in he not to reveal his astonishment. Although he had expected to have made a dent in Luo Binghe’s heart, it was staggering by how much impact his words had! In his incredulity, he’d almost missed what was declared next.

“Instead, this lord shall only truly accept Shen Yuan.” His dark lashes fluttered shut as he lifted their entwined fingers just below his jaw, his breath fanning across Shen Yuan’s knuckles. “My Shizun is honorable, honest, and foreseeing. None can compare. In return for guiding this lord with his oracles, I will ensure they come to pass, and swear to protect him from his back. You will achieve the results desired.”

Oh, my mother. A feeling arose in him that he had somehow enmeshed himself in a trap of his own devising.

“This lord understands. Your heart had suffered so long enduring the injustices this one had to suffer while I was weak and oppressed. Shen Yuan must have felt helpless being unable to directly interfere with matters of the secular world, retained at the residence of the Heavenly Realm and not being allowed to see me. It is because this lord has only now managed to find a way to Shizun that you have seized the opportunity.”

He’d just dealt him a fatal blow. You understand nothing , Shen Yuan wanted to bellow! If this were a tabletop game, then he had just rolled a Nat20 with his Charisma check. It was too good of a roll! Aren’t you just projecting your ideal Shizun onto me?

“Thanking Shizun for the lesson. Your insightfulness continues to impress this lord.”

Shen Yuan’s eyes shook when Luo Binghe lifted his head. And then he realized how close they’d gotten again. Close, too close! He could practically see the jut of his collarbones peeking above the soft fur.

His heart wavered for a moment. Pulling his hand away, he feigned a cough into his fist. Taking the time to regain his composure, he said, “You know, we might not be kinsmen, but helping each other should be just enough to be good friends.”

“An offer of friendship?” His tone was deceptively intimate and unpredictable. To Shen Yuan’s wide eyes, Luo Binghe went to cup his hand over a fist in a formal gesture. Bending the steel sword that was his spine, he proclaimed to him, “Then this lord shall avail to raise his reputation and prowess. To be regarded as worthy in Shen Yuan’s eyes and in the eyes of the Heavens, this one will surpass expectations.”

The soft waves of his dark hair fell over the white fur as Shen Yuan exasperatedly tugged at Luo Binghe’s arms, encouraging the demon lord to stand back up from his unnecessary display of supplication. He had the feeling they’d cleared some sort of checkpoint or hurdle.

How dangerous. The allure of Luo Binghe’s every word and smile were like spring waters trickling gently past Shen Yuan’s ironclad defenses. His own charisma made Shen Yuan, who had resolved to remain highly vigilant, want to believe his words just like that.

He noticed that Luo Binghe had stopped directly at the boundary. The demon lord was looking at the fog as though it had wronged him in some way.

Ping.

【Notifying the Esteemed Host! Skinship is required for Protagonist A to gain entry. Would Protagonist <<SHEN YUAN>> like to add Protagonist <<LUO BINGHE>> to his party? Y/N?】

Since it was like that, he could only comply. Secreting the weary sigh in his heart, Shen Yuan took the initiative. With one step into the swirling white mist, he twisted his body sideways and extended his palm. He gazed at him expectantly.

Without hesitation, Luo Binghe took his hand. And Shen Yuan pulled him into his world.

Ping.

【Congratulations! Protagonist <<LUO BINGHE>> has been successfully added to the party!】

Ping.

【Reloading the map! Loading...loading...success! The simulation has been reconfigured! Jiāyóu, lăoshī!】

#svsss #scumbag system #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #luo bingge #svsss fanfic #the scum villain’s self-saving system #I rec reading it on AO3 #I cannot be arsed to fix the formatting on tumblr #phoenixtakaramono #the untold tale

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jonathanvik · 3 years

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Starlight Dream - Chapter 1

The slop squelched onto Seina's plate. Pieces of her dinner splashed onto her plain blue dress, staining it. Not that the server cared, glaring at her to keep moving. The workers only had two twenty-minute breaks in their thirteen-hour day. The servers tolerated no dillydallying, especially from rambunctious young girls like her.

Seina kept her head down and kept moving, else she draw more attention to herself. She'd have to spend some time before bed cleaning it. By rule, the higher-ups allowed the workers only one outfit.

Her parents waved her over, and Seina joined them. Before the darkness, her father had worked at an insurance firm as a salaryman. Years of hard labor and ill nutrition had left him gaunt and bony, losing most of his hair during the process. Despite this, he kept a positive attitude. Her father never stopped smiling, always saying there was a silver lining behind anything. Seina wasn't sure what silver lining existed to a life with a 78-hour workweek of menial labor, and being fed food even dogs would be reluctant to eat. Still, she appreciated the encouragement.

"Oh dear, did you receive a stain, Seina?" Seina's mother said as she approached the grimy rusty table her family sat around. While somewhat plain, the matronly woman wore a face people instinctively trusted. "I'll ask around to see if I can get an extra detergent ration. Can't have the taskmasters seeing my daughter walk around in soiled clothes." Like her father, her mother was also always smiling. It made Seina feel guilty for being miserable most days.

Not that they really had days anymore. Thick smoke covered the sky, making even the sunniest days hazy and ugly. The masters' power had ensured the sun would never shine again.

Seina gave the nearest taskmaster a nervous sideways glance. Pointed teeth glistened from under his lips, marking him as the monster he was. She gave him a respectful nod, not showing an ounce of disrespect. She'd seen people staked for less. Their boss enjoyed twisting people into grotesque art pieces to mock their human workers. For the majority of Seina's ten-year existence, vampires had dominated the world.

Somehow, Seina got her stomach to agree with the slop they'd served her. Her parents weren't as picky, happily sipping away at their meal. After another tentative bite, an interruption caught her attention, making her blood turn cold. A high-ranking vampire had entered their eating area, a black silk cape flowing behind him. They were never a good sign.

"Attention. The Dark Lord is looking for volunteers for tonight's entertainment, and you're the lucky bunch, 2-B!" The man gave them a cruel smile. "Come this way. I'd advise not to keep Master Lothaire waiting."

Fear rooted Seina's feet in place, knowing the likely fate which awaited them. She'd seen it often enough. Master Lothaire loved making them watch his entertainments. Her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder, wearing a bright smile.

"Don't worry dear. Most groups come back alive afterward. They can't afford to kill entire scores of us. They'll pick a few and leave the rest alone."

Her mother nodded in agreement, also wearing a wide, encouraging smile. "He's right, Seina. I better take care of that stain. Have to look our best for the vampire lord! How's my hair look?"

"Just smashing honey!" Her father replied. "You'll knock them dead!"

Her mother blushed. "Stop it!"

While not as optimistic, Seina got her feet moving. She joined the others in her workgroup towards Master Lothaire's favorite colosseum, allowing the head vampire to shackle her.

"What a dreary place!" Colten said, examining the strange new world he'd found himself in. He flew high into the smoky area, examining everything with interest. What a terrible place to find himself. The people looked shabby, dressed in rags. Their living conditions seemed little better. Most buildings were either dilapidated or empty. The fear behind the human's eyes broke his tiny heart. Something terrible had happened here.

As he scanned his surroundings, something caught his eye. Were those people in chains? Dark creatures were guiding their captives towards one of the few well-maintained buildings in the city. It was a massive dome-like building and, unlike most structures, had bright flashing lights. From the captive's expressions, most believed they were going to die. It shocked him to see children among them.

Colten screamed in frustration. What could he do? His power was limited, drained from his trip, and he was only a tiny fairy. Dark energy spilled from the people's captors. They were powerful creatures of pure darkness. The evil intensified when he looked towards the shining dome. He sensed great malice there.

"Darn it!" He looked towards the scared people again and made a decision. Moments later, he flew towards the colosseum, praying he could do something.

People packed the stadium. They bumped and jostled Seina as she attempted to walk through them. Master Lothaire must have called everyone in the Osaka district to attend his games. The vampire elite were jeering and having fun, watching the helpless, terrified humans with amusement. One grabbed a random passerby, and Seina looked away, not wishing to see what happened next. She'd heard and seen enough to know the rest.

The entire building was a testament to the master of humanity's power. Statues of people wearing expressions of agonizing pain decorated the walls. Rumors said they were actual people, turned to stone through a vampire's power during their death throes and maybe even still suffering. The details on them gave some unsettling credence to this theory.

Soon they reached a large circular room with countless bleachers, each occupied by a vampire eager for tonight's festivities. Master Lothaire himself sat on a throne of ivory, looking down upon his domain from the balcony. The vampire lord was handsome beyond words, taking Seina's breath away, despite knowing his true monstrous nature. The proof hung around his neck. He wore a necklace of skulls, each of a world leader he'd killed after taking their country for his own. In the throne beside him sat Lilha, his queen. She also shared her husband's inhuman beauty, only her eyes betrayed her lack of humanity, and Seina shivered when they shared a glance. She was only a toy Lilha would enjoy before throwing away.

"Welcome, friends!" Master Lothaire said. Despite not raising his voice, Seina could hear him despite the distance. "Tonight marks the fifth anniversary of my conquest of the world. In honor of that victory, I've provided entertainment and games for all to enjoy. Eat, drink, and be merry! For this kingdom will last a thousand years and beyond!" The vampire crowd broke into uproarious cheering and applause.

Seina's legs shook. This was worse than she'd first suspected. The odds of survival seemed almost impossible. She calmed down somewhat when her father put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, we'll get through this." Her father said, wearing a warm smile.

"Our first entertainment will be a favorite of mine, a battle to the death!" Master Lothaire said, continuing. "Against your favorite and mine, Dreven the Unkillable!"

Bar doors opened in the fighter's pit, revealing a shirtless vampire. Unlike most of his kind, this vampire had a powerfully built body, seeming more alive than his undead kin. He played to the crowd, who gave him cheers and tossed him decayed flowers.

_Wow, Dreven the Unkillable. I feel sorry for anyone who's going to face him. He's never lost a fight, ever. _Wasn't his win count eight thousand to zero or something?

"And his opponent will be a volunteer from worker group 2-B!" Master Lothaire said, surprising Seina out of her pondering.

_This is so bad! _That meant someone she'd know for most of her life would soon die. It was too horrible to even consider. The girls in her division openingly wept, almost terrified beyond reason. Uncle Kenji offered brave words, but they fell on deaf ears.

"No need to rush." A vampire dressed like a cheesy announcer, complete with a tacky polka-dot bow tie, said. "But if you don't volunteer soon, there will be consequences."

The captive humans remained silent, too frightened to do anything. The vampire announcer's annoyance grew by the moment.

"Still no response? Oh well." The announcer shrugged. "I'll make it easier for you. The fighter will come from chapter D. That simplifies things. You better choose quickly, or you will all die in one minute."

D? That was Seina's division. No, please no. Anything but that. Usually, divisions had five people, but 2-B was missing two. One died of exhaustion last week, and the other suffered a terrible mining accident.

It was too horrible to consider. Would this mean that... Seina yelped in surprise as someone pushed her forward, howling in pain as she landed face-first on the fighter's pit floor. She spat after getting some dirt into her mouth.

"Well, well! Looks like we have a volunteer!" The announcer said. The crowd burst into laughter.

"What? No!" Seina's eyes widened in horror. What had just happened? Who pushed her? She looked up to see her father with a hand extended outward.

"Dad?" Seina said, too stunned for words.

"Sorry honey, but it was either you or us!" Her father replied.

"Don't worry, Seina. We'll always remember you!" Her mother added.

"W-what?"

"We'll be sorry to see you go. But don't worry, we'll have a new daughter in your honor!" Her father continued.

Her mother gave an emphatic nod. "Yes, Seina is a beautiful name. I'm sure she'll love it!"

Seina just stared, unable to believe what just happened. The crowd broke into more laughter and cheers, and the vampire king gave a nod of approval.

"Silly child," Lothaire said. "Haven't you listened to my teachings? In this world, it's kill or be killed. Love is only a weakness. Your parents were right to sacrifice you."

"Yep, sorry dear, but he's right!" Her father said, nodding in agreement. "You should have known."

"Hopefully, the new Seina will be smarter." Her mother added.

"Bring out the weapons. This should be entertaining." Lothaire said.

"What?" The shock of her parents' betrayal still hadn't left her. Seina had trouble adjusting to the concept that they expected her to fight for life. "But I'm only a ten-year-old girl!"

Dreven smirked and shrugged. "Them's the breaks, kid." From the audience's expression, they would enjoy seeing her torn limb from limb. The humans, except her parents, looked away, not wishing to watch Seina's gruesome fate.

A vampire pulled a wide variety of weapons into the fighter's pit. They ranged from swords to guns. None looked light enough for a ten-year-old to wield. Seina broke into tears, beyond terrified, unable to even stand straight. She didn't want to die. How could this happen?

With an exaggerated swagger, Dreven walked over to the weapon rack and withdrew a sword larger than Seina's entire body. With his vampiric strength, it seemed like a toy in his hands.

Since fighting back was pointless, Seina closed her eyes, preparing for the end. She prayed it wouldn't be too painful.

"Please don't cry! Be strong!" A kind voice said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Seina blinked through watery eyes, looking towards the kind stranger who comforted her in her final moments. She gasped in shock when she got a good look at them.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves, you jerks! You're the worst of the worst!" The strange creature said, berating the vampire horde.

Her rescuer was the purest white she'd ever seen. His head was bulbous, larger than his torso. The face somewhat resembled a cat, but with longer ears. Puffs of fur popped out from his enormous ears. Somehow, tiny wings supported the creature's weight, allowing him to fly around. He was also the cutest thing Seina had ever seen.

"What are you?" Seina asked in amazement, wondering if she was dreaming, or if the recent events had shattered her sanity.

"My name's Colten. And I refuse to allow this farce to continue any further!" The cat creature puffed out his chest.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Dreven said, pointing his enormous sword at the intruder.

"Um, just a fairy here to help." Despite his obvious fear, Colten refused to back down.

"A creature of good?" Lothaire snorted in derision. "How ridiculous. Another fool rushing to their death."

"He's right! You'll only get yourself killed!" Seina refused to allow someone else to die for her sake.

"No way!" Colten shook his enormous head only to scream in pain a few seconds later as Dreven struck him with the blunt edge of his enormous sword.

"Colten!" Seina rushed to her fallen friend's side. Thankfully, he only seemed bruised and not dead. A wing looked damaged, though. It seemed unlikely he could fly anytime soon.

"How adorable. Wanting to die together, I see." Dreven turned towards the announcer. "Hey, is it alright if the fairy joins the girl's side?"

The announcer gave a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan!"

"Looks like we're in this together." Colten gave Seina a weak smile as she cradled him in her arms.

"Yeah." Tears dropped onto Colten's little head as Seina broke down.

She'd just made a friend, and he was now dying for her sake. Seina hugged him, holding him tight and began sobbing. The vampire crowd broke into mocking laughter, enjoying seeing this helpless girl suffer. Seina didn't care or even notice, focusing on her new friend instead. She supposed at least she wouldn't die alone. Seina held one of the fairy's legs as they waited for the end. Somehow, despite everything, some happiness bloomed in her heart. Seina was glad she'd met someone as wonderful as Colten.

"You're lucky, little girl. Two on one is much fairer odds." The vampire warrior broke into uproarious laughter. "Start the round already. I'm ready for some carnage!"

_This is it. _Seina cried out in pain and surprise as bright light blinded her, almost dropping Colten. The light faded, leaving a very confused Seina.

"What was that?"

"No way!" Colten said.

"What is it?" Colten's expression surprised Seina. Was that hope on his tiny face?

"Look down!" Colten pointed towards a strange object that hadn't been there before. Seina grabbed it without even thinking, turning it around in her hand. It was a pink-colored diamond-encrusted brooch.

"It's so pretty." Seina had seen nothing so beautiful in her life. It made the splendor the vampire lord surrounded himself with seem dull in comparison.

"You're a magical girl, Seina? I don't believe it! I'd thought only a special few could become one!" Colten was ranting, speaking at speeds almost impossible to understand. "This is amazing, spectacular!"

"What? Magical girl? What are you talking about?"

The tiny fairy's expression turned smug. "It means we can wipe the floor with these vampire creeps!"

Dreven snorted in derision. "Really?"

"I'm not following." Seina was beyond lost. How could a brooch allow her to fight? Blind the vampire to death?

"Hold you brooch up into the air and yell, Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!"

"Okay." While certain it would make her appear ridiculous, she'd try anything at this point.

Seina stood up and gave Dreven a determined glare. She sent another one towards the vampire king himself. If this gave her power, she'd put an end to this nightmare herself. "Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!"

Bright light engulfed Seina, and her entire body glowed a transparent blue. In a flash, everything about her body changed. Her short black hair extended into two long, luxurious braids. The bland rags she wore transformed into a pink frilly dress with a short skirt. The elaborate new costume gave Seina the vague impression of the long-dead lotus flower she'd seen in old books. A large yellow bow was across her chest, and her brooch stood in its center.

Colten laughed. "I knew it! You are a magical girl!"

"Huh?" Seina blinked and looked down at herself, both amazed and baffled.

"That's the terrible power that will destroy us all?" Dreven broke into mocking laughter, and the other vampires joined him. Lothaire chuckled, sipping at his wine. His wife only looked confused.

"That was disappointing. I was hoping for something more exciting!" Seina's mom pipped it.

"How am I meant to fight with this?" Seina gestured to herself. Except for her new pretty outfit, she didn't feel any different. How could a simple dress protect her from bloodthirsty monsters?

"What do you mean? You can totally floor him now!" Colten argued back with far more confidence than she felt. "Hold out your hand and focus. You can summon your special weapon that way."

_A special weapon! That might change this situation around! _Seina did as instructed, and a long staff appeared in her hand. Attached to its end, was a bubble blower?

Dreven snorted. "That's your great weapon?"

"Yeah! What the heck!" This magical girl deal was a rip-off!

"Well, with that mighty weapon, I better switch to something more dangerous." Dreven threw aside his sword and withdrew a pistol from the weapon rack. "Start the fight already. I'm curious what this magical girl can do."

"Don't worry, you got this," Colten said with the utmost confidence.

"What are you talking about! I have a bubble blower, and he's got a freaking gun! This isn't even remotely fair!"

"Alright. The battle will begin..." Before the announcer could finish his pronouncement, the sound of the gunshot echoed through the stadium, and Seina toppled over.

"What?" Colten said in shocked outrage. "You can't do that!"

"I'm a vampire. I don't fight fair," Dreven replied, and the crowd broke into mocking laughter. They berated the magical girl who believed anyone could defeat the ruthless, unstoppable vampires.

"Seems the fight's over with, folks! The winner is Dreven!" The announcer said, not caring about the vampire warrior breaking the rules.

"Um, actually I'm fine!" Seina stood up, shaking the dust from her dress. "It just startled me."

Much to her amazement, the bullet hadn't even scratched her skin despite striking her right in the forehead. It amused her to see the vampires shocked at her survival. Maybe victory wasn't impossible after all?

Dreven, however, didn't seem that impressed. "You survived, so what? A vampire can survive much worse." He threw away his gun and took back his sword. Without waiting for the announcer to begin the fight, he charged forward with blinding speed, sword raised to sever his opponent's head.

The colosseum's roof exploded as Dreven crashed through it, exposing the building to the chilly night air. Vampires screamed in fear and surprise as pieces of the roof collapsed on top of them. Seina stared at her extended arm in amazement.

"Wow." Seina couldn't believe her strength. She could have sworn she'd only tapped the vampire.

"Um, Seina. Your bubble blower is meant for casting spells, not a blunt weapon." Colten said. "But that works too I guess."

"Oops." Seina blushed with embarrassment.

"She won." Lilha, the vampire queen, said in the dead shocked silence.

"She has some power, I suppose." Lothaire didn't seem too impressed despite Seina's astounding display of strength.

A strange thought popped into her head. "Does this mean I win? The announcer didn't actually start the fight."

"I guess so. Congratulations!" Colten patted her on the leg.

"I'm not finished yet!" Dreven tossed people out of his path as he stomped back towards the fighting pit. The vampire warrior was soaking wet and pieces of seaweed latched to his body. Had Seina knocked him to the ocean? That was miles away.

"Oh, you're back. Ready for another butt-kicking?" Colten said. Seina nodded, not sure why the vampire had returned after she'd beaten him with little difficulty.

Dreven broke into a disturbingly wide smile. His grin stretched out unnaturally, cackling while doing so. "Foolish girl. You think you can beat me?"

The vampire warrior extended a hand and drove it into his chest. Much to Seina's horror and shock, he withdrew something red and beating. Had Dreven just torn out his own heart? Clenching his fist, he crushed it. Gore and blood oozed down his hand. Dreven's grin extended as the hole he'd torn into his chest vanished like it never existed.

"I'm not like other vampires. Destroying my heart can't kill me. Nothing can! As long as a single atom of my body exists, I can't die!"

"Okay, but was that really necessary?" Seina's stomach felt queasy, horrified by the display. He could have just told her.

The vampires in the crowd broke into mocking, jeering laughter. They sent praises towards their champion and insults towards his magical girl opponent. Lothaire gave them a tilt of his head in respect.

"Hold on!" An irritating realization struck Seina. "Why are you fighting in a colosseum if you literally can't die? That doesn't seem fair at all!"

"We've vampires, kiddo. We don't play fair." Dreven said in a purr.

"No, you're just being a jerk," Colten replied.

"So, shall we begin our game again?" Dreven withdrew a nasty-looking rusty spiked mace from the weapon's rack.

Seina, however, was unimpressed. Already, she'd grown tired of the vampire's nonsense. An idea popped into her head, and her lips curled into a small smile. Yes, that would solve her problem nicely.

"Ha! You'll find Seina not so easy to beat!" Colten said. "Use your magical bubble blower to finish this fool!"

"I can't agree more." Seina walked up to her opponent, who watched her in bemusement. She gripped her staff tight, adjusted her aim, and swung with all her strength. Dreven screamed in pain and terror as the magical girl launched his body high into the air, flying the hole in the ceiling. Seina watched as the vampire flew higher into the sky, bursting a hole through the smoke cover and disappearing into the starry night sky.

"There, he won't cause anyone any more trouble!" Seina said, proud of herself. "If he can heal himself forever, fine. But that doesn't matter if he's stuck floating in space!" It amazed her that the plan worked. Just how powerful was she now? The entire audience broke into another stunned silence.

"Seina, that isn't what I mean at all," Colten said.

"Sorry?"

"I meant for you to use your magical powers to obliterate him."

"I can do that?" Seina blushed with embarrassment.

"Yes, you're a magical girl. It's in the name." Colten sighed, then shrugged. "Well I guess a victory's a victory." A clap interrupted their conversation.

"Very amusing," Lothaire said, standing from his throne. "It appears you have some power."

"Lord Lothaire, are you going to face this child?" The vampire lord's wife asked. "Surely it's beneath you. Let me handle her. I'd love to punish a misbehaving child."

"No, this girl represents something that I can't allow to stand. The pathetic scum down there must learn that no such thing remains." Lothaire gestured to the humans, watching the scene. Seina saw what the vampire lord meant. They stared at Seina with awe, their eyes sparkling with an emotion she'd rarely seen in her short life. It created a strange bubbling feeling in her stomach.

"It looks like we're fighting the big boss guy now," Colten said. "Good, that saves time."

"Understand this, child," Lothaire said. "Dreven was the weakest of our number. A vampire of lesser capabilities. I won't be such an easy opponent."

Seina gulped and her hand trembled, not doubting the vampire king's pronouncement for a moment. When humanity fought against him, no weapon could stop him. Even a barrage of nuclear weapons had proven useless. Rumors whispered that his vampiric power made him invincible.

"Smart girl. You understand the trouble you're in. You won't even lay a hand on my husband." Lilha said. "You will die, not even realizing it until it is too late."

Lord Lothaire stared down at his opponent. His expression was unreadable, but his confidence was undeniable.

"Did you know, no weapon has ever even touched Lord Lothaire?" Lilha said, continuing her boast. "They can't. He has utter mastery of eternity."

Colten, however, seemed unperturbed. "So what? Seina will kick his pointy teeth in."

"Understand this, little fairy," Lilha said, her tone superior. "My husband's power allows him to control time. Any timeline he doesn't care for, he discards like trash."

"Time control?" Alarm had crept into Colten's face. Seina's hand trembled, realizing how much trouble they were in. What a fool she'd been thinking anyone could defeat the masters.

"He sifts through the possibilities until the one he desires comes into fruition." Lilha extended a hand, gesturing to everything around her. "Nothing ever happens unless Lord Lothaire wills it!"

Seina put her hands into her face. With some difficulty, she fought back tears, refusing to cry again in front of these monsters. So much for hope. Fate had a twisted sense of humor.

"That's not good." While Colten's confidence had faded somewhat, he continued putting up a brave face.

The entire crowd of vampires broke into applause, and Lilha soaked in their admiration. Lothaire continued to stay where he stood, impassive.

"Give us a good show, magical girl. It should be quite entertaining. Wouldn't you agree, my husband?"

Lothaire continued to stay where he stood, unresponsive. Seina blinked in confusion. Why was he just standing there, motionless? Why wasn't he bragging and jeering, as usual?

"Husband?" Lilha asked in concern.

Lothaire's body jerked uncontrollably, foam gathering around his mouth. He stumbled forward, each step clumsy and awkward. With a strangled gurgle, the vampire king toppled forwards, landing in the fighter's pit. His body jerked several more times before stopping to a halt. Dead.

"No, has he overused his power?" Lilha's voice barely rose above a whisper. Her eyes were wide in horror and disbelief.

Siena blinked. "Eh?”

#stories #parody #magical girl #adventure #vampries #anime #anime stories #Starlight Dream #written story #vampires #fiction #story #cute #novel #young adult

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miqojak · 5 years

Text

Searching (3)

Part 2 here

“He speaks to victory, as well, this chariot - conquest, triumph. Seizing control through daring, and authority. Many things, this visceral image - domination, commitment, self-confidence, and mastering our emotions. In a nutshell...control, and victory.” Two of my favorite things - but the other shoe is yet to drop.

“When your ego is out of alignment,” here, she pinned the girl with an accusatory look that every mother knows well - and the Miqo’te glared back...before having the decency to slide her gaze back to the card at-hand. “ - When it is erratic, we find ourselves coming up against obstacles, or moving without direction. This is illustrated by the beast drawing the chariot.” That finger comes down once more, to the not-panther pulling the chariot, “It is a combination of the four beasts from the World card, a representation of the four elements - panther, serpent, crow, and wolf, representing the will, the emotions, the thoughts, and the physical, respectively. While engaged in the power of the chariot, they are in perfect unison - together, they have immense collective strength. But in the shadow aspect, you’re warned to slow down and plan the direction you want to go; decide what it is you truly seek, and believe, and set your sight unwaveringly upon that desired goal.” The woman’s hand drew back in towards her, as she continued, “It can mean many things, depending upon your situation - and I believe that this ties into that woman bound by briars. This lack of progress could be due to those obstacles holding you down, loss of focus...or a lack of confidence; perhaps feeling trapped in our own fears, ambiguity, or weakened defenses. Or perhaps it comes from without, as well? Are there issues relating to a domineering figure? Ruthlessness? Or maybe you’ve become megalomaniacal? Perhaps both.” That finger was back, upon the male figure in the card.

“Aren’t there always, woman? That’s life, and I learned to accept certain inevitabilities a long time ago; while I have to, at least. I do have my eyes set on what I want, and maybe I am bound by my fears...but I’m challenging them. Slowly. As for - megalo-what?” The look the matronly woman receives could kill. The Miqo’te is fairly sure she understands where this is going.

“A lack of self-control can lead your drive and focus to a state of uncontrollable obsession.” She doesn’t know you.

“Someone related to the reading - and it could very well be you - is displaying an...obsessive drive, or abuse of position...they might even be ignorant to the needs of others.” You’re not ignorant to them, you just know what’s best.

Fingers rubbed at her temple - had she died in that desert? What the fuck kind of trip was this? How long did it take for the somnus to leave her system? Was any of this shit real? The stone that pulsed in her hand was real. Clenching it in her palm, it bit into her along its edges. This woman had spilled her innards as surely as any knife might, and that eery child that no one knew of had given her...what, exactly?

“The cards seem to say that you have great passion, and drive. That the world is, indeed, yours for the taking...if you will but take those first few fearful steps - and look beyond yourself. Lower those thorny walls you’ve erected, and set yourself free. Plan your path, and seize what’s yours - but don’t forget that you aren’t the only one who matters. You will need others, and neglecting their needs may leave you quite alone, at the end of your path.”

“I’m already alone. And I’m working on...the walls. They’re up for a reason, after all. They don’t just restrict, they protect.” She rose in a swift, silent gesture, as the woman leaned back in her own seat. “They also hide you. What can’t you defend yourself from, without them? Don’t forget that you have a blazing fire of your own, girl. You’re the one suffocating it.”

“You don’t know me. What I’ve seen. Done. Endured. I know we’ve all suffered, or we wouldn’t be here...we’d be in Ala Mhigo, living normal lives. I won’t claim my suffering is worse than yours, but it bleeds and it bleeds...and that wall serves a purpose. How do I walk that path - how do I seize that confidence, and my goals, if I’m still bleeding out?” She paused, peering down at the woman who looked...exhausted. Jak found herself wondering who this card-reader had lost in the fighting.

“We all have to deal with our hurt. The cards had the right of it - it will poison you from the inside out.” The older woman turned her gaze away, with this, “You don’t have to believe in anything mystical, to know that a man’s - or woman’s - pain will eat them alive. Drink, drugs, sex...we see it all, here. The look in your eyes...you remind me of the young ones here that took off and fight for Ala Mhigo. They remind me of the ones who returned without their brothers and sisters. The way they looked after the war. Don’t let the war break you now, girl. We’ve won. You’ve won whatever battles are in your head. Remind yourself of that.”

The pain in her hand was tremendous, where that stone began to slice into flesh. Her free hand swept to the side in silence, as she turned to go - tail low, and still at her ankles, for once.

“I don’t know if I have. ...But thank you.” As her boots crunched in the gravel, and kicked up dust, she wondered - when was the last time she’d thanked someone, and meant it? Ketsuchi, wasn’t it?

The missing wolf was the last thing she wanted to think about, as she bled out over wounds past.

#part 3 #a little late #innocence was kicking my ass last night #my writing #tarot #the chariot #those last two cards did in fact fall out like that #and the whole reading is very on point #it's spooky #and jak is spooked #ala mhigo #is where her heart is #soul crystal #what is going on with that #jak feels things #sometimes

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twatd · 6 years

Text

6,000 Years of Murder – Part Six: Things Fall Apart

Tim: The Wicked + The Divine #36 finally gave us a definitive list of every damn Recurrence that has occurred since Ananke first started exploding heads, so we thought we’d take a walk through the annals of history and provide some context for what was happening at the time. Welcome to 6,000 Years of Murder.

Our sixth octet of Recurrences bridges the gap between BC and AD, and sees two great powers rise, in the form of the Han Dynasty and the Roman Republic, only for them to crumble into bloodshed and chaos. Feels like an appropriate arc for WicDiv, no?

188BC – Eastern China When we last left China, the Zhou dynasty was starting to crumble back into a series of smaller territories, but since then, the Qin imperial dynasty has reunited the country. Now, we’ve begun the Han dynasty, considered a golden age in Chinese history, with China’s majority ethnic group still calling themselves the ‘Han Chinese’ and modern Chinese script often referred to as ‘Han characters’. 188BC sees Emperor Hui of Han die aged just 22 (maybe he was in the Pantheon?) and his domineering mother Empress Dowager Lü take the throne, having already been the power behind it.

Also occurring since we last checked in on China? The birth, life and death of Confucius, one of China’s most influential philosophers. His teaching, which emphasised personal and state morality, justice, sincerity and social harmony, will form one of the central schools of thought for the rest of China’s history. It emerged during a period called the Hundred Schools of Thought, a time of great cultural and intellectual expansion that occurred during the Warring States era. Alongside Confucianism, important Chinese philosophies like Taoism and Legalism were also developed, and their interplay will shape China for centuries to come.

96BC – Etruria The Roman Republic has been chugging along for around 300 years at this point, so we should probably pay some attention to it. As the name suggests, Rome is still a republic at this point, controlled by a Senate and giving at least the tip of a hat towards the notion of democracy popularised by the Greeks. However, little Julius Caesar, currently four years old, will soon put an end to that and transform the already successful republic into an Empire that will conquer much of Europe, the Middle East and beyond.

It’s worth noting that this Recurrence doesn’t take us to Rome itself but Etruria, the cradle of an earlier culture in Northern Italy that was assimilated into the Roman Republic around 300 years earlier. I couldn’t nail down a concrete reason for this choice, but my current working theory is that, as one of the first cultures absorbed into Rome, Etruria represents the way that the Empire will go on to suck in and process so many of the surrounding civilisations.

4BC – Judea When a series is focused on humans ascending to godhood throughout history, cultivating great followings and bringing about change before dying young, it makes sense that we ended up in Judea in time for Jesus’ birth (yes, contrary to what you’d think, Jesus was born between 6-4BC, to allow Herod to be King upon his birth). As you can imagine during this period, despite travelling almost 1,500 miles from our last Recurrence, we haven’t outpaced the Romans, who annexed Judea in 63BC, shortly before transforming from a republic into an empire.

Herod was designated “King of the Jews” shortly after the Roman conquest, gaining military control in 37BC. He dies just as we visit, in 4BC, and will split Judea up amongst his sons, who are largely inept and rejected by the people in favour of more direct Roman rule. Even then, Jews living in the province still maintained some form of independence, able to judge offenders by their own laws. This independence was also the root of several rebellions that brewed in the area over the next 150 years, eventually resulting in the Romans renaming large areas to try to erase the historical ties Jewish people had to the region. That didn’t really go over very well.

88AD – Teotihuacan We’ve crossed over into Anno Domini - the numbers start going up from here! To celebrate, let’s take a trip to the largest city in the pre-Columbian Americas and the sixth largest city in the world: Teotihuacan. Located in a sub-valley of the Valley of Mexico, and just 25 miles from modern-day Mexico City, this metropolis boasted advanced building techniques including multi-storey residential blocks. Like other Mesoamerican sites, the urban planning was incredibly precise, oriented to the progression of the sun and stars, making the entire city a living calendar.

Quite who constructed Teotihuacan is unknown. Archaeological evidence suggests it was a multi-ethnic city, with distinct quarters occupied by the Otomi, Zapotec, Mixtec, Maya and Nahua peoples. Originally, it was presumed that the Toltecs were behind initial construction, based on colonial-era texts that quote Nahuatl-speaking Aztecs. However, the Nahuatl word “toltec” means “craftsman of the highest level”, and so might not refer specifically to the Toltec civilisation. It’s now generally assumed that settlement began around 300BC by the Totanac people, with the city reaching its zenith around 450AD.

181AD – South East Asia So far, our dalliances in Asia have mostly been centred on modern-day India and China, but that leaves large areas unaccounted for. Merchants throughout the region are busy establishing the Silk Road to China, but trade is also occurring via sea, taking you close to the Mekong Delta in present-day Vietnam. Right now, that area is part of the Funan network of states. Like Teotihuacan, modern understanding of Funan and the people that founded it is heavily debated. A lot of evidence, including the name we give it, comes from a single report by two Chinese diplomats, and given that China was often trying to conquer this part of the world, should be taken with a pinch of salt.

There’s a boss-ass folktale surrounding the region’s founding which involves a genie, a magic bow and a snake princess, but we can probably (unfortunately) also file that under “dubious”. What we do know is that Roman, Chinese and Indian goods have all been excavated in the area, suggesting a truly powerful trading centre. The Mekong Delta was perfect for both rice cultivation and fishing, further helping the area’s economy, and tactical conquests and colonies meant that at points, the kingdom controlled the entire trade route from Malaysia to central Vietnam.

271AD – Eastern China The Han period in China may have had a massive impact that continues to today, but it had to end at some point, that point being around 220, not long after the awesome Battle of Red Cliffs (see the great John Woo film starring Tony Leung for more details). Prior to this, there was already considerable infighting between various kingdoms and warlords as the Han dynasty weakened, and with it dissolved, we reach the Three Kingdoms period - a slight misnomer given that each of the states (Wei, Shu and Wu) had an emperor claiming the right to rule over all of China. By 271, the Shu have already conquered by the Wei, who shortly afterwards are usurped by the Jin dynasty, and in 280, the Jin will conquer the Wu, reuniting China.

While the Three Kingdoms period may only less than 100 years, from the Han Dynasty weakening to the Jin emerging triumphant, this period is the most bloodthirsty in the country’s history. As much as 60 per cent of the population may have been killed due to high conscription levels, brutal massacres and widespread famine. Despite this, the period also saw considerable advances in technology, include improvements on the repeating crossbow, mechanical puppet theatres and non-magnetic compasses that used differential gears. Still, Ananke’s visit seems remarkably tranquil for such a period of upheaval.

364AD – Eastern Europe The Roman Empire is still doing its thing, but change is on the horizon. Constantine has ended the persecution of Christians after converting, and has shifted the Roman capital to New Rome AKA Constantinople to be closer to his rivals the Sassanid Empire. Meanwhile, out in Central Asia, the Caucasus and Eastern Europe, a number of nomadic warrior tribes have formed a loose confederation called the Huns. While their best known leader Attila won’t be born for another 40 years, they are doing their best to disrupt things for both the Sassanids and the Romans, attacking settlements across Eastern Europe.

The Huns attacks didn’t come out of nowhere - it’s likely that the El Niño Southern Oscillation caused a megadrought in Inner Asia, causing them to migrate to the edges of their own lands. Whatever caused their sudden attacks, they terrified the Romans, who associated them with the Antichrist and Gog and Magog (whom Alexander the Great had captured behind mountains, according to legend). Those superstitions probably weren’t helped by a massive earthquake that hit the Eastern Mediterranean the year after our visit, destroying parts of Crete, Greece, Egypt, Libya, Sicily and Cyprus.

454AD – Germania Our first Recurrence that we’ve seen before, in the 455 Special. Persephone’s death takes place the year before the Roman Lucifer went all “meat-harpy”, and her placement in Germania suggests she may have been part of the Vandals, who we see invading Rome in the Special, rather than a Roman citizen like Lucifer and Bacchus. By this point, the Roman Empire has split in two following the death of Theodosius I, with the Eastern part to remain going as the Byzantine Empire, and the Western part (where we are) soon to fall.

Rome, as we find it, is beset on all sides. In the East, our old friends the Huns are attacking, Attila having just died and divided the Empire among his sons. The Visigoths are sometimes allies and sometimes enemies, depending on what they can get away with. Anglo-Saxons are settling Britain, and in Germania, tribes including the Suebi, the Alans and the Vandals have been ransacking towns and establishing their own kingdoms. The Vandals, led by Genseric (who also appears in the Special) establish a kingdom that includes Corsica, Malta and parts of Africa, and while originally thought to be part of the destruction of Rome, are now thought to have acted as inheritors of many Roman traditions. They’ve certainly inherited Ananke’s efficiency at disposing of heads.

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#WicDiv #The Wicked + The Divine #The Wicked and The Divine #TWATD #6000 Years of Murder

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hellv1ra · 6 years

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Written In The Stars

Chapter One

Pairings: Beta!Fandral x Alpha!Reader for now, but eventual Omega!Steve x Alpha! Reader

Summary: Reader is an Asgardian warrior goddess and older sister to Thor and Loki, she was born to Odin from a woman named Astrid of the Muspelheim, a woman who joined in battle against Surtur. Her mother died in childbirth she was adopted and raised by queen Frigga as one of her own after she wed Odin. Y/N was born the Goddess of fire and a goddess warfare a gift for being born to the house Odin. She was presumed to be born Beta because of her Muspelheimer background. Her true nature wasn’t discovered until a battle to keep the peace where they came upon a small remote Vanaheim village.Female Alphas were extremely rare on Asgard, the last having died over a thousand years before her birth.

Warnings: ABO Dynamics None for now. Will be smutty as fuck soon. Also in my universe Frigga is still alive because unlike Odin she doesn’t suck.

Word Count: 1700

A/N: Please be gentle with me, this is my first time posting anything I’ve written and if its shit i apologize I’m the only one who has read this monstrosity over.

Y/N leaned against the balustrade of the balcony that looked over the great courtyard of the palace of Asgard. Seeking solace from the revelry below. He brother’s finally at peace after so many years of struggle. Y/N’s eye found Loki sitting at the long table with a woman perched on his knee. Loki finding his true mate with a beautiful omega of the Vanir named Sigyn, she had calmed his restless soul and given him a peace he had never felt in his thousand years of life. Thor ever proud of his status as a fertility god surrounded himself with beautiful omegas of all shapes, sizes and colors, he was an alpha to the extreme never seeming to have any end to his ability please many omegas at the same time. He knew that one day soon he would indeed settle down with his omega and have children of his own someday. Yet, he still danced a silly game of denial of his feelings for Sif. Who was more than willing to wait, and in the mean time she took her pleasure amongst the other powerful and beautiful Asgardian alphas who worshipped the ground she walked on.

Y/N heard footsteps approach her from behind. The smell of jasmine and vanilla wafted in to her nose. Mother she mused as the familiar and comforting scent hit her nose.

“Aren’t you going to join them my dearest daughter? Wouldn’t be a proper celebration without you.” Frigga asked as she joined Y/N against the cool stone railing.

“I will soon mother, once a lot of the posturing downstairs dies down. You know how rowdy they can be and how atrocious all the mixed scents of all those alphas and omegas can be.” She mused taking a sip of wine from her chalice.

“I cannot believe that it’s been a year since your father’s death” Frigga mused looking out the fading light along the horizon the oranges and pink of the setting sun clashing with the encroaching night sky. She looked over at her daughters now taught muscles and clenched jaw. “I know, that you hated Odin my love. I understand why you hated him so much even more, after what he did..” she broke off her voice cracking with emotion.

A peel of laughter from below caught both Y/N and Frigga’s attention they both looked down at the party below and saw Sigyn’s head thrown back with laughter as Loki whispered in her ear. It brought a smile on both of their faces and caused Y/Ns throat to constrict with emotion as she watched Loki move from whispering in her ear to kiss the mark at the base of her neck that marked her as his bonded mate. Something I will never have. She silently thought as the burning sting of tears filled her eyes.

Frigga brought her arm up to grasp her daughter by her upper arm and pull her into her embrace.

“Don’t cry, you can have that someday, you WILL have that someday”. Y/N Pulled away slightly from Frigga who slid her arms down and clasped YN’s hands in hers.

“How can I? After Dag? He was the only one I could be with, the only one I ever found-” YN stuttered as sobs began wracking through her.

“No” Frigga raised her hands to her daughter’s face and began wiping the tears away with her thumbs as she looked into her eyes “You will find another, I have seen it in the stars, my visions are never wrong. You will find your omega. I am the Dowager Queen of Asgard, and until your brother takes the throne and you are no longer forbidden from leaving here. Your freedom is yours again. Had I known before what Odin did to you, I might have taken sword to him myself. His omission on his death bed does not grant him forgiveness for the crimes he committed against you. You were his daughter and you deserved kindness and love. Not violence and fear. I wish only that I had known and that I could have protected you” Frigga eyes were spilling over along with her daughters YN placed her hands over her mothers as both women wept for their losses together.

“Mother! Sister!” Thor bellowed from below breaking both women from their tears “this is no time for tears, come join us in celebration, there is much food, wine and mead all that is missing is my mother and dear sister” Thor’s naturally amicable and jovial nature brought warmth and happiness to the women looking down at him from the balcony.

“I fear my son that I may be too tired to join in the merriment, but your sister shall join you shortly” She smiled down at her son.

“Yes, brother” YN’s voice broke as she cleared her throat “I shall join you all shortly, now go, there appears to be band of sweet omegas beckoning you back to them” a knowing glint darkened in Thor’s eyes and a mischievous smile curled on his lips as he winked at both of them and rushed back to waiting attentions of his female companions.

“I want you to take leave of Asgard for a while. I shall speak to Thor tomorrow about taking you with him on his next trip to Midgard, he leaves for there in three days I believe. it will be good for you to get back out into the world again. And you would do so with the safety of your brother incase things overwhelm you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, thank those above us yes!”

“Good. Now, go join your brothers and friends. Spend the night with Fandral he always seeks your company” Frigga laughed as she walked back into the palace YN gave her a playful glare and went to collect her chalice. She headed down the halls herself to her chambers to seek out her maid to fix the mess her tears made of her makeup. Twenty minutes later she found herself in the archway of the Courtyard. Loki noticed her presence first.

“Come, sister and join us!” he said motioning for the man in the spot next to him to move. Loki appears to have imbibed on a fair amount of mead, his face flushed and eye glazed with joy.

“Your highness” The man said as he bowed and swished his way into the see of people

“Where is Sigyn?” I asked my brother taking the formerly occupied seat next to him.

“She and Sif have joined a little band of omegas at the other end of the table” Loki said as he lifted his glass to his lips.

“No doubt talking of babies and whatever else it is omegas talk about with each other.” Volstagg shouted across the table at Loki and YN as they laughed with him.

“Yes, because I’m so sure that having to listen to a bunch of drunk idiotic alphas having pissing matches over past omega conquests and battles from a hundred years ago must be so thrilling for them” YN said rolling her eyes and reaching across the table for mead and food. The table barked with laughter. YN felt air brush past her and heard a large body drop in the chair next to hers.

“I blame all of you” Fandral said after he sat down and reach over for grapes.

“For what?” YN asked with a mouth full of food.

“There’s so many of you bloody alphas in this great courtyard, that even the betas aren’t biting” he said sulking in his chair.

YN mock gasped “I dare say will the great Fandral the Dashing be spending the night with cold furs?”

“Mock all you want princess, its just not fair if there weren’t so many of you in here I might have a better chance of seeking Valhalla.” He leaned in close enough only for YN to hear “Would you my beautiful Alpha Princess like to see Valhalla in my arms tonight, would you let me take you to high and great pleasures as I worship you from between your thighs over, and over again” YN clenched her thighs together and shifted ever so slightly to gane friction against the growing heat at her core, but also so she could look at Fandral directly.

“And why should i? It appears to me that you’re only seeking out my company as a last resort.” YN reached over and toyed with the sleeve of his shirt “Besides how am I to know whether or not youre still able to take to make me reach the highest mountains, it’s been so long since you’ve warmed my bed. Maybe you’ve lost your touch? Perhaps that is why you seem to have struck out this evening?” YN sipped from her cup and peered up at Fandral with a challenging glare.

Fandral leaned forward. “Never, my princess” he said kissing her shoulder YN turned her face away from him “You. Will. Always. Be. My. First. Choice. Alpha.” He punctuated each word with a kiss up her shoulders to her neck. He growled the last word as he licked the scent gland at the base of her neck. YN Growled and pulled Fandral’s mouth to hers. She dominated the kiss biting his lips and pushing her tongue into his mouth to show her dominance over him. Whoops of laughter and cheer surrounded them from the others at the table Thor’s being the loudest.

YN pulled away slowly and Fandral’s eyes were glazed with lust. “Now” she said toying with the collar of his shirt “Shall we play by ourselves this eve, or should we find some friends?” she asked him with a raised eye brow.

“The more the merrier I say” He said clearing his throat.

“Good” YN said standing up. “Let’s go find some friends”

“YN?” Loki asked as she and Fandral stood to made their way to the group of omegas “Yes brother?”

“Would you be so kind as to send my wife back to me?” He was clearly drunk and looked pouty and sad as he glanced down to his wife.

“Certainly brother” She said winking at him

#ABO #Alpha!Reader #Asgardian Reader #Loki #Thor #ABO Dynamics #a/b/o dynamics #Eventual Steve Rogers x Reader #Fandral The Dashing

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youforeverwithme · 4 years

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Owl Some Days You Have To Put On The Hat And Remind Them Who They Are Dealing With Witch T-Shirt

I think the Owl Some Days You Have To Put On The Hat And Remind Them Who They Are Dealing With Witch T-Shirt job in this room have is the opportunity to present visible but also to inspire up and coming physicians who are in medicine sports medicine and so that the legacy will be how many and I like how many more doctors can I encourage with the key to continued success still like another three months to go through the celebrate now do not celebrate the first milestone was Wilson 22 teams. Dominic in just a moment that we want to bring me the asian reaction as well gracefully is in tokyo this morning from asian leaders when we hearing so far on the president diagnosis grace while their first we heard from some time usually include prime minister nearing the money which I was trying to outrun the recovery along with his wife pointed response front prints me out and she will treat it out this morning saying donald try paying the price for gambling you are responding trying to which_shower theory overall the other as well overall donald transcribe you mind going on by not going and not sugar overall in the us response front where I am right now you leave there is really survive trying and trying to tow the line between the trade partners you may point in the political process due to the us probably got so interesting donald trump from microphones from my by very much really setting up a real fight over the source of 19 and will insurance sometimes encouraging us using page and sometimes very critical. The children staff not wearing masks this morning from a moderator chris wallace foxman first offered masks that refused to talk seems late trump side of of the hall this is trump came in wearing a mask that took it off when what she said sat down to see when they came in but all the other members the first family that I saw there including about god tiffany when they sat down they weren’t wearing masks i’m told by the pool of reporters was there that somebody from the cleveland clinic came up to the first family I believe this was before mrs trump sat down and offered the mass in case they didn’t have them and they waved them away on the following wednesday trump was traveling card opportunity on outdoor rally on a trip should the cognitive morning as well on aboard air force one and returning to washington then took new and got a result positive and significant morning white house knew of the results of the morning your traveling resort to for learning from multiple report photo of people in close proximity

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witchand2cats-blog · 7 years

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Tarot Card A Day

Like most witches, I’ve experimented with tarot cards before, but I’ve never put in the time to really learn them. I’ve decided to change that. I’m going to focus on one randomly drawn card each day, starting with the Major Arcana. Feel free to study along with me!

Day 6: The Chariot

energy

drive

ambition

moving forward

victory

triumph, against the odds

reward

travel

news

opportunities

CHARIOT TAROT CARD MEANINGS AND DESCRIPTION

The Chariot is associated with the astrological sign of Cancer. He sits within a canopy of six-pointed stars, representing the celestial influences at work in this Tarot card. The crescent moons on the man’s shoulders are outward facing to refer to the formative world. The symbols on his tunic are alchemical symbols, representing the spiritual transformation of man. The square signifies earth, a sign of strength of will. The laurel and star crown indicate the highest attainment of man in spiritual evolution.

The wings on the Chariot represent inspiration and the Hindu sign of the union of positive and negative. The black and white sphinxes have the same meaning. The Charioteer holds no reins, just the wand from the Magician card. He controls through strength of will in the same way the Magician does. The city is behind him, indicating he has turned his back on civilisation and materialism in order to seek spiritual matters.

UPRIGHT CHARIOT TAROT CARD MEANINGS

The Chariot represents conquest, victory and overcoming opposition through your confidence and control. Any success will be a result of applying these factors to the situation. You will need to use the strength of your willpower to overcome any obstacles or challenges in your way. You may even find that by leveraging any opposing forces surrounding you at this time you can use them to your advantage. You must be determined, self-disciplined, and hard working. If you are, you will triumph over any difficulties or anyone who is trying to limit you. This struggle will ultimately make you stronger.

You will be successful at pursuing your goals, so long as you maintain focus, determination and confidence in your abilities. You need to focus completely on the task at hand, get in the race and win it. You have to dominate and beat the competition. You must cultivate the ability to withstand the rigours of what is required. In fact, striving towards your goal can be as satisfying as attaining it. This is a time to be strong and in control. You must also draw upon your willpower and self-discipline.

You may be wondering if you should pursue a plan or continue a project but you will be driven to do so, and your perplexing dilemma will be resolved for the time being.

The Chariot requires you to assert yourself and be bold. You may need to look after yourself at this time and be confident in expressing your needs and wants, otherwise you will not get your way. You need to have faith in yourself and know fundamentally who you are and what you stand for (thus building off the personal belief systems and values established through the Lovers card).

Sometimes, the Chariot asks you to come to terms with your own aggressive impulses. Aggression is part of human nature, part of your innate survival mechanism. Aggression cannot be simply suppressed; to do so will only turn it inward on yourself, leaving it to manifest itself in the form of physical illness. Aggression can be very destructive but it is also a powerful energy that can be channelled creatively. This is a time when you need to be the master of your emotions and curb any impulses or anger. You need to show who is the boss and achieve control of the situation but this will also require you to be in control of yourself.

The Chariot can also represent a lot of driving and even a road trip. You may even be considering buying an RV and heading off across the country!

(biddytarot.com)

#tarot #tarot card a day #the chariot #witchy

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fyrapartnersearch · 7 years

Text

Hello I am here and so are you, so we have one thing in common already

✿Short and Sweet✿

I am looking for an 18+ long-term partner whose primary pairings are M/M. I don’t want anyone who takes things too seriously, RPing is a relaxing pastime and if I’m stressing about replying constantly/meeting word counts I’m going to hate it. That being said I do like doing paragraph replies with anywhere from 300-1000 words, depending on how long my replies are I can reply every day or every week (it really just depends on my motivation/mood/schedule)

Please skim over my interests and the like at the bottom to see how compatible we are. Since I’m looking for a long-term partner, I’d like for us to have several things in common. Please don’t contact me if only one or two of our interest match up. <3

✧Settings✧

Sci-fi/Space Opera

Post-apocalypse

Medieval/Fantasy

Modern Day (No generic High School/ Domestic stuff)

Historical

War

Fandom: Warhammer 40k, Star Trek, Star Wars, Mass Effect, Voltron:LD, Fallout, Elder Scrolls, Dragon Age, W.o.W., SnK, Tokyo Ghoul, (I only do OcxOc in fandom settings. I will not play, or play against canon characters)

✧Kinks/Other✧

Likes

Size Differences

Power Bottoms

Gentle Giants

Fem Boys/Crossdressing (both as a sexual and non-sexual thing, really just depends on how it’s presented)

Monster boys/Men

Robots

Aliens

Toxic relationships

M/S Relationships

Bondage

Dislikes

Standard dislikes (Toiletplay, Bestiality, Pedophilia Etc.)

Incest

Mpreg

✧Contact✧

Email: [email protected]

Skype: Dunkmastersassquatch (Kaptain Krunch)

✿Long and Detailed✿

I am looking for a totally rad person who is 18 years of age or older and who places value in long-term partnerships/friendships. I like to get to know my partners and would like to be able to speak casually with them about our ideas or whatever. If you are also looking for someone who just wants to kick back and have some fun making our characters miserable then please continue below to see how well our interests line up!

✪ About Me✪

Age: 20

Times Zone: Central Time

Occupation: Severely depressed college student

Hello, I write and also draw and also am looking for an RP partner who shares many of my interests so we can write together for many, many years and over many RPs.

I’m pretty laid back about most things. I just ask that you communicate with me about things instead of just assuming and that you are fairly literate. (Text speech/ Lingo is a-okay as long as it’s OOC or fits the RP)

I’d like for us to be friends as well as partners because it helps motivate me to write/draw/ feel the good vibes ™. So please, please talk with me about your interests/ fandoms/day as well as any plot ideas or twists you may have because I will certainly jabber on about mine. BTW Feel free to say no to my ideas if you’re not interested, I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll get over it. (I will assume the same goes for you)

✪ About My Roleplaying ✪

Comfort level word count: 300-500

Tense: Third Person, Present (will do past if it’s super important to you)

Frequency: Depends, but if I’m at my comfort level I’ll probably be able to respond multiple times a day. Anything above that will of course take me longer.

I would prefer to RP over skype or some other IM system ( I could be convinced to get a Discord, but the thing is my internet is super slow and downloading it would take an hour, I’m not exaggerating it’s that bad, and I just really don’t feel like doing that right now) however, E-mail is also okay.

Skype: Dunkmastersassquatch

Email: [email protected]

Grammar and what not is kind of important I guess, but not as important as content. I’m not sure if this ad is really an accurate example of my writing potential as I’m just kind of spewing out whatever. That being said if you’re okay with the level this ad is written at, then you’ll probably be okay with my actual writing. If you’re not okay with it then, eh, take a chance?

As for my characters, I play Doms, Subs, and Switches and don’t really have a preference for one over another. Keep in mind that sometimes my subs are whiney, uke boys and sometimes they will twist your nips and call you a cuck. AKA my character’s personalities are not dependent on their position in bed, HOWEVER sometimes their personality will, coincidentally, line up with the stereotype of their position.

✪ Pre-existing Ideas/Interest✪

Just to show you kind of how my mind works. Feel free to ask for one of these (and add to them <3) or not. The summaries don’t indicate which character I want to play (because I’m mostly good with playing either) so let me know if you have a preference towards a character.

✧General✧

Sci-fi/Space Opera:

1. I have this alien race that are essentially gender neutral, like there’s no way to tell their gender unless you get in their pants. They pretty much consider even KNOWING what gender they are as extremely intimate and somewhat taboo. So they take forever to choose a mate and when they do it’s for life. I’d be pretty down for doing something with that.

2. A near-homeless man finds an old broken down robot behind one of his favorite restaurants. It’s an old, outdated model, but he thinks he can fix it up with just a little time.

Post-apocalypse:

The world is broken, it’s times like this when people need to come together to rebuild what was lost. Like that’s going to happen, every semi-competent faction is vying for control of more land, more money. Its times like THIS when smart people, really smart people can get ahead. That’s just what the tactician is doing. He’s a smart guy who’s never lost a battle and he’s up for grabs to any faction that’s willing to shell out the cash. However, smart guys like that tend to make enemies and the faction he’s working for insists he have a bodyguard.

Supernatural:

1. It’s an equal exchange, the vampire bites you and gets fed and the represents they release gives you the high of your life. It’s only good business to do it in a hotel room or something so you’re not tripping on the streets, but what happens when your vampiric dealer doesn’t want to leave. (I have a bit more to this world so just ask if you’re interested)

2. He’s always been a bit of a loner, a ghost to society. When he moves into his new apartment he doesn’t really see it as much of a change, until he lays down to sleep and feels hands running through his hair.

Medieval Historical/Medieval Fantasy:

1. (Medieval Fantasy) This was the big expedition, this cave was going to have all the riches of his dreams. The cave-in however, that wasn’t to be expected. These cave were abandoned right? So why can he feel something watching him.

2. (Medieval Fantasy) After 10,000 an evil necromancer awakens from the curse that paladin put on him, he’s ecstatic to find out his Orc bodyguard was cursed too. Now they can continues their plans for world conquest and also get some revenge.

3. (Medieval Historical) He’s a highwayman all he wants is your money or your life. One day an unsuspecting priest comes along and tries to bargain for his life with the word of God. It’s didn’t work, but something in his eyes kept him from killing the priest.

4. (Medieval Fantasy) Someone’s plotting to kill the king and all bets are on the shady court magician. There’s no proof though, so the king assigns personal servants to all within his court as a “gift” (to spy) Maybe the court magician isn’t as evil as everyone says….or maybe he’ll have his new servant face down in the gutter by tomorrow.

Modern Day:

1. He’s been crushing on the cute boy in his precalculus class since the semester started. He finally gets the never to ask him out, only to later find out that his love interest is a furry. What’s a furry?

2. He had no clue his dorm mate was a mass murderer, what even more surprising is that he’s in love with him. (Killing Stalking sort of thing)

3. Crime Bosses weren’t supposed to fall in love, especially not with someone in law enforcement, even if that “law enforcement” is a mall cop.

Historical:

I don’t really have any prompts of my own I just put this here to let you know I’m into this too. Do refrain from using real people from history, I’m not into that. (Including real events/facts is A+ tho.)

Superheroes (actually mostly villains) and stuff:

1. He’s the number one fan of the number one bad guy in the world. Sure he wants to see the world burn, but if the posters on this nerd’s wall say anything it’s that he wants to watch it burn too.

2. The boss isn’t the smartest guy around, but that’s why he’s here. His henchman and unofficial bodyguard, he’s content to let his boss run about with his foolish plans even if the ones in his own head are 10x better.

✧Fandom✧

I will only do OCxOC in fandom settings. I will not play or play against canon characters. It’s just not my thing, sorry. v-v

Warhammer 40k:

*While I’m not a super lore whore I will try to keep pretty close to it. This means that, yes, I expect any Space Marine characters to be impotent. But I mean hey have you SEEN the size of their fingers, I mean, tsk, come on…COME ON…*

1. A Tzeentch/Slaaneshi psyker finds an ancient deamonic staff of domination (it’s prolly Slaaneshi too, let’s be honest) which forces its user’s will on one other person. Being a whimpey little psyker he decides to use it on a chaos lord of Khorne, who is pretty upset about the whole thing, to say the least. (this is actually based off two of my O.C.s we can keep as close to their story, or as far from is as you’d like.)

2. Love can bloom…or it can violently explode within the chamber of an ancient Eldar long rifle. While exploring some ancient ruins one day, a lone rogue trader finds a discarded rifle on the floor. Upon picking it up he finds that it…speaks to him? It’s really got a tongue on it too, but hey it’s too awesome of a weapon to give up. (Yes this is a relationship between a man and the soul of an ancient Eldar that resides in a gun….)

Star Trek:

1. The son of a prominent Romulan commander abandons his duties and becomes a notorious smuggler. Now he’s on the run from the Tal’ Shiar (who are trying to drag him home), a Ferengi trader (whom he may or may not have sold faulty weapons to) and a Klingon bounty hunter (who he’s tempted to be captured by.)

2. Comfort women were a common sight within the quarters of Cardassian soldiers during the occupation. However, this Gul would rather seduce a known Bajoran resistance fighter. After all the greater the challenge, the greater the reward.

Star Wars:

1. An admiral is supposed to be reliable, smart, and efficient he is, after all, in command of an entire fleet of ships. This admiral, as CT-7465 has found out, is a little too young and laid back for the job. (Clone Wars Era)

2. They were supposed to stay together, best friends fighting side by side against the Sith, until he became a Sith. (Pre Prequels.)

Voltron:LD:

1. A Galra commander is dragged along by one of his friends to one of those ridiculous slave auctions. He expected to sit there bored as his friend lusted over all his new “options”. For the most part he was right, but why does that boy keep catching his eye? (A sort of sweet Galra bby)

2. A Galra commander is fed up with spending his nights alone, he needs someone to share his bed and he wants them to be perfect. So he picks up one of those slave order catalogues and starts filling in all his specifications. When his slave finally arrives, he’s not quite what was ordered. (An abusive Galra bby)

3. (Alt. Universe) The Human Empire dominates the galaxy under Emperor Shiro Takashi and a recently promoted chancellor now has the kind of money he needs to fulfil one of his most devious fantasies: owning a Galra pet.

Fallout:

I don’t really have any plots for this either, but I would absolutely love to do something in this universe!

Elder Scrolls:

He’s a nord: strong, hearty, well endowed, and he’s got Talos to thank for it. Now these elves come in and tell him Talos is no God, well that’s just not right. But the Thalmor agent that’s threatening his arrest is really, really handsome.

Dragon Age:

1. The Inquisitor is just a normal guy who happens to have a glowing hand. Completely normal right? And normal people don’t really find the company of extravagant Teventer mages and buff Qunari spies to be all that appealing (no matter how handsome they may be.) No, he needs someone simpler, someone who can remind him he’s still just a normal guy. (I don’t really consider the inquisitor to be a canon character b/c they’re kinda player based.)

2. Seheron belongs to no one but the ones who live here, he wishes the Qunari and the Teventers would learn that and leave his home alone. He’s getting sick of only feeling safe when the fog covers him. (Fog Warrior/Qunari Soldier)

W.o.W.:

Does it count as necrophilia if they’re Undead?

Blood elves are pompous stuck ups and orcs are barbaric savages, so why are they fighting on the same side?

Tokyo Ghoul: *Trigger Warning for suicidal thoughts*

A recent high-school graduate learns he’s contracted a terminal disease. His parents are too poor to afford treatment, in fact they’re too poor to support him or his four siblings. Since he’s going to die anyways, he might as well spare them the cost for the few months he has left. But he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else having to clean up his dead body. Maybe he can at least be useful in killing himself, ghouls eat people, right?

✧Tropes✧

Monsters: I love QT monster boys (slime boys, nagas etc.), but I also love big bara giants. My thing is either: their head and torso are humanoid and everything else can be whatever OR they have to be a full blown, all out monster (they have to have sentience though, I’m not into bestiality stuff.)

Size Difference (ranges from slight difference to HOLY HELL YOU ARE MASSIVE WTF I ONLY COME UP TO YOUR STOMACH): I love big bara boys who fall in love with small tiny babes. The big bara can be all super macho or whatever I’m into that too, but what I really, really like is when they’re a squishy romantic who is completely devoted to their bby. Like they are willing to do anything their tiny love says at a moment’s notice. Bonus if the tiny boy is an absolute argumentative spitfire.

Age Differences: I don’t care how big the age gap is so long as the youngest is 18 or older.

Hey, Listen: This seems like a good place to put one of those “if you’ve read this far” things, not that I expect everyone to. However, if you have read all this then put the words “coco for cocoa puffs” somewhere in your message to me. <3

Toxic Relationships: Physically or mentally abusive (or both). Things can either work out in the end with the abusive cunt changing their ways, or not. I’m good with either.

Angst: I’m completely okay with letting characters straight up die. If that’s not something you’re into just say so and we can keep it fairly happy. However, if it’s something you’re willing to do HIGHFIVE!

Hopeless romance: In complete contrast to Toxic relationships I’m also into 100% fluffy and supportive relationships (so long as they both go through some hell. Can’t keep things too happy)

One-Sided: I love when characters think they are in a hopelessly one-sided love (but in fact aren’t). What would make it even better is if they are casually having sex with each other (because their friends with benefits/ one of them thinks the other is imagining someone else/ whatever) while both of them are secretly in love with each other, but neither of them knows it. Love is confusing.

Yandere/Ice King: Self explanatory

Unlikely Lovers: This could be characters who hate each other, but are hopelessly attracted to each other, people on opposing sides (Good Guy/Bad Guy) who fall in love, or characters who hate each other at first due to prejudices (ex. Orc/Elf) but are forced to work together and fall in love along the way.

✪ About 18+ Content: ✪

✧Violence/Cursing✧

I am okay with gore and death and the eternal void so long as it’s fitting/ pre-planned/ we’ve been writing together for a while and you know what you want to do won’t upset me.

I’ve avoided doing it (I think) in this ad out of respect for other’s preferences, but I my cuss level is that of someone who has recently stubbed their pinkie toe against the corner of the bed. So, if you want to contact me please be okay with that, it’s understand able if you yourself don’t want to cuss, but don’t try and force that standard on me. (This goes for pretty much everything else involving ideals/morals)

✧Sexual Situations✧

Obviously, you have to be 18+, even though I kinda said that at the very beginning I want to say it again. If you’re not 18+ and I find out you’re not I will immediately drop you and also likely report you as underage to which ever site you came to me from. You are endangering people when you pull that kind of stuff. So, if you’re under 18 (even if you’re 17 and your birthday is just two months away or the age of consent in your country is below 18) don’t contact me.

Anywhoo, I love smut, but I don’t want it to overtake the RP. I am pretty kink friendly, but I do have limits (which I’m about to list) if there’s something you’re having doubts about just ask, please don’t assume what I’m okay/not okay with.

Kinks I enjoy:

<3 <3 BDSM: Collars, bondage, S&M

<3 Violence: Biting, Scratching, Light asphyxiation

<3 <3 <3Power Bottoms: AKA I love when the smaller guy gets it in the bum, but he’s got complete control of how his top moves (demanding that he slow down/speed up that sort of thing)

Kinks that I think are pooie:

Pooie

Watersports

Necrophilia

Pedophilia

Bestiality

Incest

Mpreg

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #email #messenger #submission

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higuchimon · 7 years

Text

[fanfic] Ruler of the Shadows: Chapter 2

Perfect. Digimon Kaiser had seen so many people fall into the grip of his power. Seeing Motomiya Daisuke do it provided a thrill he’d seldom experienced.

For a few moments he continued to study his captive, considering his options. Then he spoke again.

“Follow me.”

Motomiya followed along as Kaiser stalked toward the corridor, silent without and likely raging within. Kaiser didn’t care about his internal struggles, so long as he obeyed orders.

Those others will be searching for him. Annoying. With a few muttered words, he sent slaves off to deal with those pesky intruders. With the only one of them who could evolve now following tamely at his heels, he didn’t expect many problems.

But he hadn’t gotten as far as he already without learning how to deal with unexpected issues. They wouldn’t have come here if they didn’t think they could do something to fight him. Just because there was one of those ‘Digimentals’ didn’t mean it was the only one.

So he already had more of his intelligent slaves looking around for anything else that could be one. He would take care of this carrier personally.

He came to one of his examination rooms and gestured Motomiya inside. His fangs itched as he did; he hadn’t fed in too long, putting his plans for world domination first.

Perhaps… yes. He could do that. It would make Motomiya even more useful than Kaiser originally thought possible.

He stepped up behind Motomiya, releasing him from the grip on his mind, and allowed a few moments for the redhead to recover his senses and look around, confusion radiating off of him.

Then he wrapped one arm around Motomiya and pulled him close, tracing his tongue down the other’s neck.

“I have such plans for you,” he murmured, enjoying the way his captive wriggled helplessly. “You are going to be very useful to me.”

He didn’t wait for Motomiya to make one of those foolish protests about how he’d never do anything Kaiser wanted. Instead, he buried his fangs deep into Motomiya’s neck, easily finding the right spot so that sweet nourishment flowed past his lips.

Doing this also made it far, far easier for him to sense what was on Motomiya’s mind. He wasn’t surprised at what he felt.

Confusion. Concern. Anger. Fear – oh that was so lovely. The desire to get away. The knowledge that he couldn’t.

The awareness that his blood was being drunk.

The awareness that he couldn’t resist.

Kaiser kept himself from draining the other dry by sheer force of will. Motomiya tried to resist, though he couldn’t even move properly. Kaiser released him, pleased to see that it took only a moment or two for his captive to slump down to his knees, too weak to move away.

“Wormmon,” Kaiser said, licking his lips clean. “Bring my guest food.” One had to take good care of one’s slaves, especially when they were as delicious as this one.

Not to mention as useful, as well.

To Be Continued

Notes: This is only the beginning of what Kaiser has planned for Daisuke. And I'm reasonably certain there will be a rating increase at some point. Not yet, though. They barely know each other!

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #digimon adventure 02 #ichijouji ken #motomiya daisuke #ken x daisuke #daisuke x ken #chapters: ruler of the shadows #series: sanguine bindings

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party-hard-or-die · 6 years

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Trudeau Doesn’t Separate Refugee Families, but He Does Send Them Away: the Canada Letter

This week’s news was dominated by President Trump’s “zero tolerance” policy on illegal immigration and how it led to the separation of more than 2,000 children from their parents. I’ve compiled some of the highlights of our extensive coverage below. I’ve also been thinking, as I imagine you have, about what issues the controversy raises for Canada.

To much of the world, Canada is seen as the good guy when it comes to asylum seekers. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau famously handed winter coats to the first of what would be 33,000 Syrian refugees who came to Canada starting in late 2015, saying, “You’re safe at home now.” And Ahmed Hussen, Mr. Trudeau’s immigration minister, came to Canada as a 16-year-old refugee from Somalia.

[Read the four-part “Refugees Welcome” series that my colleagues Jodi Kantor and Catrin Einhorn did on the Canadians who supported them.]

But many people in the immigration world say that at least one key part of Mr. Trudeau’s policy is indefensible in light of Mr. Trump’s southern border crackdown: how it limits the ability of asylum seekers to get in.

“Canada looks better with how it treats asylum seekers after they arrive,” Audrey Macklin, a chair in human rights law and a professor at the University of Toronto’s law school, told me this week. “But Canada is harsher and more effective at preventing asylum seekers from arriving.”

Canada’s location isolates it from countries where refugees are fleeing on foot or by boat, making such control easier.

Mr. Trudeau joined the chorus of those condemning the Trump administration for its detention of children in shelters near the border. But Canada has a similar practice, if on a much smaller scale and with the children generally alongside relatives. Last year, 151 children were held at Canada’s immigration centers, effectively medium-security prisons that have been criticized as unsuitable homes for minors. Of that total, 11 were not with an adult.

The Trudeau government has vowed to cut those numbers and improve the system.

But it won’t budge on what Professor Macklin and others call the bigger issue: the “safe third country” agreement with the United States.

The agreement, drawn up in border-security talks after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, essentially allows Canada to turn back any asylum seekers who show up at regular border crossings, since Canada has declared the United States to be a safe place for refugees. That has led some asylum seekers to try to cross into Canada from the United States “illegally,” to use the government’s term, or “irregularly” as Professor Macklin prefers, particularly in Quebec.

Professor Macklin and others have long rejected the idea that the United States is a safe place to seek asylum. The current border turmoil, she said, has only reinforced that view.

Mr. Trudeau said this week that he had no plans to end the agreement, without offering much in the way of a defense of it.

The agreement is now being challenged in court for a second time. It was struck down in 2008 by the Federal Court but that decision was overturned on appeal.

Professor Macklin, meanwhile, has a more provocative proposal for killing the agreement. “If Donald Trump understood what the first safe country agreement does,” she said — meaning that it pushes immigrants back to the United States — “he would have been the first to suspend it.”

Though Mr. Trump backtracked amid the outrage and said families would now be detained together, it remains unclear how and when, even whether, children and parents who were separated will be reunited. The all-star team of Michael D. Shear, Helene Cooper and Katie Benner has reported that amid widespread confusion, plans are underway to house immigrants at military bases: U.S. Prepares Housing Up to 20,000 Migrants on Military Bases.

Vanessa Friedman, the chief fashion critic for The New York Times, turned her eye to this week’s political Rorschach test, the inexpensive Zara jacket with a message (or not) that Melania Trump wore while visiting immigrant children detained in Texas. She took the view that the jacket’s faux graffiti reading “I really don’t care. Do U?” is indeed a message, White House claims to the contrary. But she added: “The question is: Who was the intended audience?”: Melania Trump, Agent of Coat Chaos.

And in Opinion, Sonia Nazario, the author of “Enrique’s Journey: The Story of a Boy’s Dangerous Odyssey to Reunite With His Mother,” argues that ending the separations won’t end the harm to children: There’s a Better, Cheaper Way to Handle Immigration.

Road Show

Now, a shameless sales pitch for an amazing deal. On July 14, The Times is organizing a bus trip from Toronto to the Stratford Festival. Hopping on board will be one of our theater critics, Jesse Green, and Scott Heller, the theater editor. At Stratford, travelers on The Times’s magical theater tour will attend stage versions of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” and “Coriolanus,” Shakespeare’s tragedy about a Roman general whose battlefield successes fail to translate to the political arena.

But wait, there’s more! The package also includes a light lunch and a conversation between Jesse and Scott as well as cast members for the two shows. A regular 250 Canadian dollar value that we’re offering to subscribers of The Times for just 125 Canadian dollars. How can you say no? Read the details and sign up for your spot here.

(And for those of you who are irritated by our style for handling Canadian currency, I hear you.)

Municipal Conquest

In his State of the Art column this week, Farhad Manjoo makes a compelling case that tech companies have conquered the United States’ largest cities. That doesn’t mean that they’ve become, as he put it, “dystopian technocapitalist hellscapes in which corporations operate every essential service and pull every civic string.” Or maybe it does. You can read Farhad’s thoughts here.

It’s a pertinent question for Canada. Several Canadian cities are falling all over themselves to turn Canada’s pioneering academic research into artificial intelligence into investments from global giants — generally with success. And as I’ve written, there’s both boosterism and anxiety in Toronto about a proposal by a corporate sibling of Google to transform a rundown harbor area into a city of tomorrow. A place where masses of cameras and sensors will turn everyone who works, lives and passes through it into a data point for study and analysis.

Plus Toronto is still on Amazon’s shortlist for its second headquarters.

Tech jobs are, more often than not, high-paying jobs that demand a high level of skills. But tech companies — Uber comes to mind — often scoff at local laws. And it’s not just Google that’s trying to reshape cities. Self-driving cars may be good for technology companies’ share prices but many urbanists warn about their potential to erode mass transit systems, to mention one example.

What do you think: Is there a danger of a growing imbalance between the powers of local governments and tech companies? Please let us know: [email protected].

Trans Canada

—Mr. Trudeau has fired the starter’s pistol by announcing that legal, recreational marijuana will be coming to stores in most of Canada on Oct. 17. Dan Bilefsky and Catherine Porter looked at the wide array of potential problems posed by the sweeping change, including how to deal with a black market now brazenly operating in the open.

—For a more relaxing border experience, join Porter Fox for a paddle along the invisible line between Canada and Maine.

A native of Windsor, Ontario, Ian Austen was educated in Toronto, lives in Ottawa and has reported about Canada for The New York Times for the past 15 years. Follow him on Twitter at @ianrausten.

We’d love your feedback on this newsletter. Please email your thoughts and suggestions to [email protected]. And if you haven’t do so, please subscribe to the email newsletter version.

The post Trudeau Doesn’t Separate Refugee Families, but He Does Send Them Away: the Canada Letter appeared first on World The News.

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dani-qrt · 6 years