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physicalturian · 3 years

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[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 10 (Last)

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 8634 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Oral / Discipline / Voyeurism / Brat / Shibari / Impact play / Tears (from dick uh) / Protected sex / Aftercare / Edging / Pet names The voyeurism part is only for part of it. For those who do not know what 'voyeurism' is, it means someone is watching - It's done with everyone's consent.; The tears are purely deep dick in throat; Don’t forget there are oral protections for when you give head to someone, or receive it tbh, to avoid STD’s.

If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

There stood Rosinante. And clearly, Law was not expecting him to come by. I hurriedly covered myself, but it was too late, and the blond man seemed to have enjoyed the sight as he looked at my hands gripping the lapel tight before looking at me with a grin. “I see you’ve got company Traffy,”

“I’m guessing the date went well-“ “I asked you a question Cora, what do you want?” I felt the tension between the two men, clearly Law was annoyed by the interruption which was not the most welcomed right now. I was about to sneak out of sight when I saw the delivery girl in the back, she looked at the device in her hand, confused. I nudged Law’s side to get his attention and he told Rosinante to get out of the way so he could get the takeout.

When he did, I walked past him and exchanged the money Law had handed me, for the bag of food in her hand. I saw her glimpse at my chest and quickly bid her goodbye before shuffling back inside and putting everything back on the table. When I joined the black-haired man’s side, he told me to go on and start eating without him, he had to talk with the blond. I half-heartedly accepted and went back to the dining room where I unpacked everything. While I did so, I paid attention to what was being said in the corridor.

“-It wouldn’t be the first time, I don’t see why you don’t want to Law,” I heard the blond almost whine.

“Did you really think that coming all the way here would make me accept the offer? This is different than the other times,” Law replied, his tone stern and still laced with annoyance. I made sure to not seem like I was listening as I started eating.

“I’m just saying, if that’s what she’s into, I’m the man for the job-“ “I didn’t ask, and we’re taking things slow,” Law’s answer made Rosinante laugh, it quickly turned into a gasp as I heard a thud before their conversation resumed.

“That’s not what the rope around her breasts says,” I turned around to look at them in shock, and quickly turned back to face my food when both of them looked my way. Fuck, be discrete, you haven’t heard anything.

Law sighed and I heard the door lock, it was followed by shoes hitting the parquet. “I’m not taking a decision without her, first we eat, then we talk,”

“It’s alright I’ve already eaten,” I heard Rosinante’s deep voice getting closer, and Law’s reply even more, “I didn’t ask, there is none for you, sit down and don’t talk,”

From the interactions between the two, I felt like there was bad blood between the two of them which clashed with the man now sitting right next to Law in front of me. Law was sitting at the end of the table, Rosinante on his right and me on his left. I wrapped the bathrobe tighter around me, throwing a glance at Law and fidgeted on my seat. Was it his way of playing with my appreciation of ‘giving a show’ as he put it? “Don’t mind him, eat,”

“It’s kind of hard not to, he’s staring right at me and he’s pretty big,” Facing the blond, I quirked a brow, going back to be in control. “Why are you here? Do you need something? We were a bit busy until you arrived, and while I respect that you’re his colleague, I think he’s not on shift right now.” I stated with as much professionalism as I could. I was not going to speak in Law’s stead, but I was frustrated by the interruption, if it had just been the delivery girl, we could have gone back to our little game once the door was closed. But here, I felt myself run cold… And burning at the same time, I was very aware of the restrictions around my form, after all, how could I not?

I felt Law’s hand on my thigh after my question and had to muster all my strength not to move in startlement. I hope the blond hadn’t seen my reaction, after all I knew he had caught a glimpse of the rope work under my robe, but he did not show any sign of awkwardness. “It’s not work related, don’t you worry, actually it’s more of a leisurely visit,” The blond rolled up his sleeves and leaned back on his chair, almost tumbling back before grabbing the edge of the table and catching himself. Ignoring his almost-accident, I kept eating and did not ask any more question. I exchanged a few glances with Law when his hand traveled higher on my thigh.

I didn’t know what games he was playing, and I didn’t know why he was being so daring when his colleague was there… but I liked it. To make him understand I was on board, I spread my legs wider and as I made it so it looked like I was seating back properly, I moved his hand even higher.

I heard a huff coming from him as he continued eating. While his eyes were on his plate, his nails dug themselves inside my skin ever so lightly before going up and down my thigh. My attention being solely on his touch under the table, I almost forgot the man right in front of us who was silent up until now, “You know, Law, I understand you telling me to wait until you’re done eating and all that, but you can’t say that and then start the fun right under my nose,”

Confused, and thinking he knew, I grabbed Law’s hand from going any higher, but he deftly moved my hand from his and held my thigh tightly. He was rubbing my inner thigh, letting his hand graze my crotch many times without even reacting. I had to put everything down when I was getting too excited to finish my plate, thinking I’d finish the rest after the eventful night I was promised those past few nights by HandSurgeon. “Then ask her, see how it goes,” Law almost spat, giving Rosinante a glare that I wouldn’t have wanted to be the receiving end of.

‘Cora’ however was unbothered, his grin only widening as he leaned further on the table. I felt a foot bump against mine under the able but did not say anything. “See, with Law here, we sometimes have interesting nights-“ “It was two times, Cora,”

“Actually, it was three, don’t you remember the one a few months ago who really wanted-“ Law interrupted him by standing up and taking our two plates from the table, leaving me exposed as I quickly covered my thigh with the robe.

Looking at me with a smug smile, the blond whispered, “It’s actually three times like this, but we sometimes do other things- not like we fuck, but-“ Surprised by his words, I did not let it show on my face and made a gesture with my hand to tell him to go on, “Just, stop beating around the bush, I really don’t care what he, or you, used to do,” I shrugged, still curious about what they used to do. I was not going to be nosy and ask but part of me hoped he wouldn’t keep doing whatever they used to do when we’ll really be together… Unless we’ve talked about it.

“Right, I feel like you kinda like showing off, am I wrong?” I couldn’t blame him for going straight to the point as I asked, but his question caught me off guard and I threw a glance at Law who was coming back from the kitchen with a neutral expression on his face.

Looking at Law, embarrassed, I said, “Did you tell him about-“ “I didn’t tell him anything, I’d live better if he did not meddle with my shit, believe me,” Law replied before I could finish my sentence. I looked back at the blond and shrugged, “I don’t really know why it’s relevant,” I started, my face heating up. What was one supposed to do in this situation? I was not about to tell that stranger what turned me on, even though he seemed to have pinpointed the right thing. Denying sounded like a nice option though.

“You’re not making it easier on me,” The blond glanced at Law, asking him to help out without words. He had seemed cocky enough to preach what he did many times with Law but was starting to get cold feet. Law quirked a brow and asked me to get up, which I did with him, my eyes still riveted on Rosinante. I was then brought to the bedroom, feeling Rosinante’s intense gaze following us. Once we were inside the room, Law left the door open and approached me.

“The offer is simple, do you want to hear it?” He pulled me closer, sliding his hands inside the bathrobe to rest them on my hips, his thumbs brushing over the skin oh so delicately. “Go ahead, I’m really curious of what you might offer that won’t be ruined by your great colleague-“ “The attitude stays outside the bedroom, let’s start again. Do you want to hear the offer?” He breathed right next to my ear more sternly, his grip on my hips was tighter.

I held his forearm and held back a huff, mumbled, “Yes sir” I don’t believe I had said it in front of him, ever, since we learnt about one another. And it felt ten times worse than saying it to a stranger online, this time I could see the smirk on his face when he looked at me with a certain pride, my body was burning up from simply folding, submitting, over nothing. And I was enjoying it.

“He likes to watch, you like to be looked at, you like being the center of attention,” he explained slowly. His hands were now gripping the lapel of the bathrobe, I held his hands to stop them from removing the item just yet. “I don’t know… it seemed like you didn’t want to do any of this, earlier. You seemed angry at him, maybe we shouldn’t have him here,” I said softly, earning an earnest smile from the man in front of me as he cradled my face in his hands.

“Because he is wasting my time while I could be having you on your knees, your mouth eager to do your best to please me…” My eyes widened, his action was tender, but his words were salacious, and yet it mixed so well together. “Or maybe tonight could be all about you, I believe I promised I’d tie you up to the bedpost, or maybe we could work on more discipline, I remember you enjoyed it greatly,” He paused and gauged my reactions. I was breathing more heavily than moments ago, recalling his promises.

The more he talked, the more I felt this need to prove I could take whatever he gave me. I wanted him to praise me like he did so many times before, I wanted him to be able to flaunt me, and what better way to do so than to give him a show, to him and his friend. “He doesn’t join, he just watches, right?” I asked in a low tone, my eyes darting at the blond who was watching us from the dining table. He had his elbow resting on the table, his head leaning on his fist while smiling lazily. “That’s the plan, it’s purely sexual,” Law forced me to look at him, his fingers on my chin, “Just because he’s there doesn’t mean I won’t be taking care of you, it’s sexual for him, but it’s something different for us, understood?”

“I just ignore him, then?”

“No, no, you better be fully aware of him, know you’re being watched…” He slowly helped me shrug off the bathrobe, placing himself in front of me to block the sight to Rosinante. “And I’d expect my girl to give us a show I know she’s capable of, so do you agree?” This was exciting, I never expected to be part of something like this. And with or without the blond man in the other room, I would have still felt over the moon knowing what Law was about to do to me. “Yes, do we still use the colours? In case I want to stop, for any specific reason- not that I think I will use it, I trust you-“

“Colours, yes. But remember that even if you trust me, you can stop everything. The moment it’s too much, not that I aim for it to be, you tell me. Are we clear?” There was real worry in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes playfully but nodded. Wanting to get started, I looked at him with a widening smile and let my hand wander to the knot of his sweatpants.

“I do remember our conversations you know, no need to repeat yourself,” I started, “And you haven’t fucked my brains out enough for me to forget it, just yet. Maybe it was an empty promise,” I was stopped dead in my tracks by his hand gripping mine.

“Then you remember I said to be patient, and to leave the attitude out of the bedroom,” He said in faux-politeness as he pulled me closer, his hand let go of mine to pull at the leash-like rope around my neck. I huffed a chuckle and looked at him, satisfied.

“The door’s open, it came back rushing in,” I breathed out, talking about the attitude I supposedly left outside the room.

Law watched me a moment before humming, a dark smile on his lips, “You want to play it like that, let’s,” he stepped away from me and I felt a shiver run down my spine, I wanted to get things heated because it had started quieting down, but now I had a price to pay. I had barely done anything, but Law jumped on the occasion to take the attitude down a notch. He grinned mischievously and told me to follow him as he sat at the edge of the bed and told me to kneel in front of him.

“Are you serious-“ “Color?”

I huffed, “Green.”

“Then I’m deadly serious, on your knees.” His tone was stern, but his face showed something else. His half-lidded eyes watched me make way towards him and stop right in front of him. I threw a quick glance at the blond through the doorway and saw him with the seat fully facing the room and his hands on his lap for now. He gestured for me to go on. My eyes widened at that, does he expect me to listen to him? I looked back at Law and instead of kneeling in front of him, I placed my hands on his shoulders and moved one of my leg over his to straddle him.

He gripped the back of my legs tight to get me off of him, “Are you acting out on purpose, to give Cora a show? Is this what’s going on?” He asked, while standing up, power dripping off his voice. I wanted to tell him no, but I think I did. It felt weird to submit in front of someone other than Law, and I wanted to put it off as long as I could. I looked to the side once more, this time Law gripped my chin forcefully to make me look at him, “Is my girl getting shy?” He asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his lips grazing my lobe. “I’ll say it only once: when I ask you a question, you answer, go,” He slid his hand to the back of my neck and made me look at him.

“I’m not shy, I’m just not used to this- and you surprised me with asking me to get on my knees,” I whispered back, noticing the grin that spread on his face.

“Don’t play the innocent act, I recall you were very eager to suck your toy off when it was just you and me, correct?” He breathed against my neck as his fingers slipped over the rope to grab my ass and bring my leg over his, still standing up. His other hand grazed over my ass, then I felt his fingers brush between my legs and gasped. I gripped his hand before trying to have his fingers touch my clit, but it had the opposite effect.

Grunting, he slapped my hand off his and held me in place, “Look at you, grinding against my fingers already. Don’t tell me you’re that desperate yet?”

“I’m not, you’re talking more than you’re doing, right now,” I regretted it instantly when a scowl formed on his forehead, quickly turning into an expression that said he accepted the challenge.

“That needy look of yours says something else. Here, I’ll help you out, but first,” He stepped away from me and sat on the bed, his legs open wide, “First we’ll put you back in your place. I have the perfect gag for that pretty mouth of yours,”

I was about to kneel when I noticed he was still fully dressed, when I reached for his shirt, he gripped my wrists tight. “That’s one too many, if you’re in a bratty mood then all I’ll have to do is discipline you, don’t you agree?” I agree, whispering a ‘yes sir’ which made him laugh as he told me to get on my knees, hands behind my back. He then stood up and went to the drawer behind me. I did as he told me, knowing I had crossed the limit but couldn’t help but feel excited.

“We’re going to test that patience of yours, look at me,” When I did, a smirk pulled the corner of his lips. I followed his form until he was sitting in front of me, I could see the bulge in his pants that at this point demanded to be freed, when I glanced at it, Law’s smirk only widened. “Let me tell you how good you look on your knees like that,” He praised as he leaned back only slightly on one of his hand as the other held what I believe was a riding crop. The latter placed itself under my chin to raise it up, “Here’s what’s going to happen: you use that mouth for something good, no touching, if I see you trying to move your hands….” He trailed off and looked at the riding crop.

“Then I strike you.”

He paused, gauging my reaction. And from the way my breath hitched in my throat, he had guessed I would enjoy it. “If you want to stop, you make a peace sign with your hand behind your back, understood?” I nodded, and he told me to do one right now to make sure I understood. Once I did, he smiled genuinely and pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. It was now fully erected and while I had seen it through different pictures, I wanted it more now. He stroked his cock lazily a few times, then beckoned me to come closer, “Open your mouth,” he slid it in slowly, praising me as he did so, “There we go, good girl,”

Instinctively, I was about to move my hands to grab the base of his cock but was struck before I could do so. I moaned at the stinging pain, breathing through my nose before starting to bob my head the best I could without the balance of my hand. I started licking him slowly, making sure to let my tongue press the tip of his cock more than the rest, suckling on the tip from time to time. I relished in the groans it elated from him. His free hand slid to the base of my neck, maybe he was unsure of how I’d react if he did more.

Dragging my lips back and forth on his length, making sure to use my tongue around it, I twirled my tongue around his tip, looking him dead in the eyes. “Grab my hair, are you the one feeling shy now, doc?” I licked my lips when he grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled my head back to have me look at him from a different angle. I gasped at the pain, my mouth open yet smiling, so was he. He was smiling smugly as he looked down at me, enjoying the sight a lot more than he was showing it. I moved a bit to use my heel to get some friction and was struck down to stop.

Chuckling breathlessly, I quirked a brow, it only unnerved him more, “You’re being a lot more disobedient when we have company, I can’t have him think you’re untamed now, can I?” He breathed against my lips, I closed my eyes, expecting a kiss from him but was met with a leathery texture. Opening my eyes, I realized Law was brushing the riding crop over my lips, I opened my mouth once more, he did not wait to brush it over my tongue. Giving it a little tap, startling me before bringing his hand that was holding it, over my shoulder.

“So desperate for it, so eager… But so, fucking, insubordinate- if you want it so bad you better start taking it,” He breathed, “And it’s: yes sir, not doc,” Without further warning, he shoved my head over his cock, and I moaned around it when I felt it hit the back of my throat. It made him laugh breathlessly, groaning at the same time as he kept guiding my head onto his cock. When I hollowed my cheeks around it, a sigh escaped his lips and he paused for a moment, leaning in. Before he could speak, I uttered, “Did I say you could stop?”

His brows raised and all playfulness was gone from his eyes, mine widened and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that, I thought as I straightened my back, about to move my hands to hold his thighs, I was struck down before I could do anything. The moan that escaped my lips was more embarrassing than anything, I could feel a rush of heat coursing through my body. He let go of my hair and instead gripped my jaw tightly, “I can’t praise you when you’re being anything but good,” He said sternly,

“From what I’m seeing, you want it rough, and I’m ready to give it...” He trailed off, his eyes traveling over my form while his finger brushed over my drooling lips, “Unless you make it up to me, and stop fighting me,” I averted my eyes, thinking, but quickly looked back at Law when he tutted me, saying “Eyes over here,”

“Keep that little game up and I promise, I’ll have you tied up in the middle of the bed with a toy inside you and no fucking relief,” He said loud enough for Rosinante to hear it, I tried to glance at him but had Law’s leg in the way and huffed, “Or you give up the reins, and let me lead the dance,” He continued, his finger pulling my lip down before opening my mouth, his thumb on my teeth. I licked it without answering, hands still behind my back.

“So, what do you say, are you going to be good now?” I nodded. He struck me down, I gasped in pleasure feeling the new spot on my back sting more than the other times, “What did I say? Words.”

With his finger still in my mouth, I articulated the best I could, “I’ll be good, sir. I’m sorry-“ “You will be, let’s have you apologize properly hm? Open wide,” Once again, I took him in, I did not waste time to try and take him deeper than I had before, making him moan out of breath as his hand settled under my chin on my throat. He wasn’t gripping it tightly; If anything, I believe he was feeling the bulge of his cock in my throat and getting off on knowing he did that.

I saw his composure slip as he leaned back and started bucking his hips in my mouth, “That’s it, take it- all- like a good- little- pet-“ Each words were emphasized by a thrust, I tried to meet them all and could feel tears streaming down my face at the effort it took fort me not to gag. Sounds of our heavy breathings and moans, mixed with groans of pleasure, echoed on the walls until he pulled out. He had stopped himself before reaching climax and was still very hard, I licked his cock clean before wiping my mouth and chin on his pants.

With a lazy smile, he leaned in and grabbed the rope to pull me closer, his lips ghosting over mine, “Are you going to behave, now?”

Raised on my knees, I tried to meet his lips, but he struck me without thinking twice about it, “A question, an answer, is it so hard?” I shook my head, gulping and replied in a sore voice, “I’ll behave, sir.” He then whispered, “Good girl,” before bringing me into a kiss, tender at first but it quickly turned more hungry, more needy. I wanted to bring him closer, taking his face in my hands to feel him but focused on keeping my hands behind my back.

He must have sensed my struggle since he broke the kiss to look at me intently, “While you do look good on your knees…” He let go of the rope and stood up, making sure to take the riding crop with him. I tensed when I felt it touch my back, knowing how raw my skin was, and how it still felt like it was burning. Yet, I wanted to lean in, and I was ready to beg for more. But instead, I looked straight ahead, and waited. “When I say good, I mean, exquisite…” I moved my hands to my lap, thinking it’d be better for him.

I was wrong. “I didn’t say you could do that,” Another hit, this time at the juncture of my shoulder blade and my neck, another breathless moan, another quick move as I brought my hands back in my back. I was startled once more when I felt his presence over me, his lips brushing over my ear, “I knew you’d make the most sinful sounds,” His teeth grazed the shell of my ear, biting it just enough to feel them.

“But I think seeing the tears rolling down your face,” he started, gripping my chin tightly to make me look up at him, my jaw clenched, “… and your pretty mouth fucked out, unable to talk back, that’s how I want it,” He continued, his eyes riveted on the drying tears on my cheeks as his thumb brushed over them. He then leaned over and placed a kiss on my forehead, “You did good. Now, let’s get my girl in a more comfortable position, what do you say?” I didn’t move but whispered back in agreement. It made him laugh as he let go of my face and told me that I could move.

I had to hold onto his arm when I stood up and wobbled. Having stayed on my knees too long made my articulations hurt but it felt good to finally be standing, it did not last long when Law had me lay down on my back after making sure I was alright. “I’m alright, in fact I could have taken it a bit longer, if you want to know,” I told him teasingly, talking about his thrusts in my throat. He stopped mid-way, a knee on the bed, still wearing his pants. “Your sore voice says otherwise,” he replied in a tone just as light, he gave me a once over before leaning to the side and getting an unopened bottle of water from the side of the bed.

“If you’re still that eager, we better take care of you before any more fun, mh?” Opening it, he told me to drink some more before continuing, I reached out for the bottle and saw that my hands were slightly shaking. I thought it wasn’t noticeable until Law scooted closer and was ready to help me drink. I simply took the bottle from his hand, brought a pillow to cover my front and took large gulps, maybe letting some spill down my chin and over my throat.

Law watched me carefully, an interested smile on his face, “It’s funny how you’re trying to act decent by covering yourself, and yet, intentionally bring my attention to you,” He took the bottle from my hand and put it on the nightstand before pushing me down and throwing the pillow away. His lips latched onto my throat as he licked the trickling drop away, starting from the bottom to finally reach my chin where he kissed my lips softly. “Let’s ruin that made-up sense of decency and make it as debauched as we can,”

Kissing him back, I chuckled at how promising it sounded and suggested enthusiastically, “Then let’s start by taking those pants off,” When I slithered my hands to the string of his pants, he quickly pinned them over my head making me yelp in surprise, and excitement once more. I wrapped my hands the best I could around his, or at least touched the back of his hand with the tip of my fingers, “Let’s make something clear, because you seem to forget I’m the one who’s leading this dance,” He started, his free hand hovering right above my breast as he very delicately ghosted his finger over my nipple, making me gasp when I felt the wetness from his skin.

I looked at him more carefully and saw him dip his finger inside the water bottle to just have me even more sensitive as he brushed it against my skin. All the while playing with my nipples, he spoke, “That mouth of yours is allowed to do four things. One, answer when I ask a question, two, beg, three, moan, four, scream my fucking name. Is that understood?” Although he asked it in a stern tone, making sure I was going to obey and not act out, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I nodded, “Yes, sir,” I was thoroughly enjoying the sight of him with his lips, mere breaths away from my nipple.

Looking at him expectantly, I bit the inside of my lips as he approached closer and closer, his breath cooling the wetness on my skin. I let out a satisfied sigh when I felt his warm tongue balancing the coldness of my hardened nipple. Thinking he was solely focused on my breasts; I was surprised when I felt his hand slowly travel down my stomach and to my thighs. He paused there and drummed his fingers there a moment before starting to draw little patterns with the tip of his fingers. I wasn’t getting anything. His tongue was working on my breasts, but that was it. I wanted more, I needed more.

So, I threw a glance at the door, but I couldn’t see anything from this angle. Casting my pride aside, I mumbled Law’s name, followed by, “Please…” He stopped everything, and quirked a brow, a smug smile on his lips, “I didn’t quite catch that, pet. A bit louder, go ahead,” His tongue resumed its work on my nipples, this time his hands joining. I was trying to arch my back to feel him more, my breathing getting only heavier, it made it impossible to not feel the ropes around my form. “I’m not hearing anything, maybe I should stop-“ “Please, sir… Please, more, everything,”

“Good girl,” He breathed against my lips before pressing his against mine very slowly, his tongue prying my mouth open as he deepened the kiss. It heated up quickly, I threaded my hands through his hair to pull him closer only to have him laugh breathlessly as he broke the kiss. “Show me how bad you want it,” He sat back on the bed, still between my legs and wrapped my legs around his hips, he started kissing my inner thigh softly as he spoke, “I’ll be right there, and you will be touching yourself for me,”

Sitting up, I quickly moved my hands behind my back to show him I wasn’t doing anything with them, and saw the grin displayed on his lips. I continued, “Law- really? No, please, I don’t want to wait any longer, please?” Pulling me closer by my thighs, I gasped and almost lost balance but gripped his forearms tightly. “You’ll wait, because I told you to. You want to be good, don’t you?” A shiver ran down my spine, I looked off to the side but didn’t reply. He continued, “You think I forgot, all that we talked about those past few nights?” He whispered against my ear.

“How desperate you were for me to guide you, obeying each of my command…” He left a kiss behind my ear, trailing to the side of my neck, the hair on my body rose, I was thrilled. I felt his hand travel up my body, to one of my arms, down to my hand were the held me a moment, “And how little time it took for you to show off,” He brought my hand between our body, I reached for his pants but he tutted me, “to spread those legs,” He spread his, spreading mine in the process, “and to touch yourself to the sound of my voice?” I wasn’t looking at him, instead my eyes were focused on his body, on how his hand felt around mine.

“Not with your friend here, please,” I whispered hesitantly. It felt more intimate like this, to touch yourself in front of someone, than being literally fucked in front of someone, I was afraid Law would find it annoying but instead he chuckled. “He left a moment ago, when I brought you on the bed, I told him to leave,” He explained. I rose to my knees to look behind Law’s back and indeed saw that no one was on the chair, I felt more comfortable to do as Law suggested, but wanted to hear more of him. When I sat back, my legs still around his hips, he looked at me with a look of almost-hunger.

I chuckled nervously, never leaving his gaze. With a smug smile, his free hand caressed my throat slowly. “That doesn’t mean we’re done, I believe I was reminding you of how obedient you were before and how much you misbehaved tonight, mh?” “I’m good now, I promise,” I said clearly, not wanting to let it transpire that I kind of enjoyed how he handled the attitude.

“Then, show me how good you are, pet,” He guided my hand between my legs, and pressed my fingers with his, right behind my hand. “I’m sure you know what to do from there,” I nodded, and did exactly as he wanted, to help I rested my forehead on his shoulder and closed my eyes to focus more but was quickly stopped.

“That won’t do, show me your pretty face,” When I did, he smiled and pressed his lips on my throat, “That’s it, a lot better, good girl,” I let out a shaky breath upon hearing the words, and had to hold myself back from leaning back on his shoulder. It became harder when his tongue trailed down my neck, leaving hickeys all over it, but he was still talking between as he busied himself,

Isn’t it easier like that? To do exactly as I tell you. I find it easier to praise my girl when she is acting like the good girl, I know she is. Not when she’s bratting out. Needy for my cock. Eager to get fucked. Desperately clinging onto the power. Not letting go of it. But we both know you relish in being powerless, don’t you? Being told what to do. I can see how much you enjoy it. Look at you, fucking yourself on my lap. If you keep making those sounds, I won’t be able to hold back, doll.

Meeting his gaze once more, I said his name in the most desperate way I could. I didn’t want him to hold back, I wanted him to fuck me. Feeling myself getting close, I stopped and held onto Law’s shoulders before starting to roll my hips over his. He groaned and stopped talking, instead he gripped my hips forcefully to hold me in place. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for my answer to throw me on my back and take off his pants. He reached out for the drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a condom before kneeling back between my legs and rolling the condom on.

“Seeing how fucking needy you are, I would be tempted to see how many times I can make you cum until you’re finally satiated,” He looked me up and down before smirking, “But I think you’ve had quite a ride tonight,” I nodded, arching my back at the feeling of the sheets brushing against my pained back. Grinning, Law slid a hand between my leg and hovered there a moment, “Did you go a good job, or do I need to finger you myself?” It wasn’t a need more than a want, I would never say no to feeling his hands in me, on me, touching me, playing me like a toy.

I wanted to tell him, “Law, just fuck me,” but I knew he wouldn’t like that, there was a power dynamic at play right now, I had to remember that. Yet I was also tempted to taunt him, get him more riled up but thought against it. It took some restraint, but I said, “I’m good-“ “Oh, I know you are, you are being very good, and I’m sure you’ll feel just as,” his elbows hooked under my knees, he did not waste time and started sheathing himself slowly, groaning in the process.

A satisfied smile made its way on my lips, it felt so good, feeling him stretching me out, his hands gripping my legs with so much force it made the experience only more ecstatic. I pulled myself closer to him, making him hiss as he tried to hold back more sounds of pleasure from escaping his lips. Once he was fully in, he leaned in a moment, the muscles in my thighs were stretching but I was loving it. “What if I kept you like this?” I looked at him wide-eyed, about to refuse, but he continued, “That expression on your face, I’ll be sure to do it another time, but I want to make good use of my fucktoy tonight.”

Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he trailed down and nibble the skin of my neck, “That’s what you are, mm? A good girl, but also my pretty little fucktoy,” He wanted me to say it, it felt weird to say it out loud, it didn’t want to roll of my tongue.

Bucking his hips inside me, Law grunted, “I asked you a question,” I let out a breathless pant, my head diving in the pillows, “Sure, yes, I’m your fucktoy,” I huffed, trying to meet his hips once more, but he held me in place and pinned my hands over my head once more, his free hand turning my face to look at him. “Try again, without the attitude, I want to see your embarrassed face, I did say I’d ruin that silly pride of yours, did I not?” He asked rhetorically as he started thrusting very slowly inside me.

Meeting his gaze, I felt my body heat up and stared at him the best I could, my mouth gasping soundlessly at each of his thrusts. When I closed my eyes to enjoy it more, he stopped, “You’re not going to get it, if you don’t say it, I am a patient man,” The way my name rolled of his tongue, made it a lot more sinful than I thought it could be. The staring contest lasted a few moments before I let it leave my mouth in a low tone, when I looked off to the side, I was tutted again and forced myself to look at him, jaw clenched, “I am your fucktoy, sir.”

The smug smile on his face made me believe I was done with this, but his grip on my hands tightened when he leaned in and kissed me softly. It felt warm, and reassuring, unlike the grin that was now displayed on his lips, “Guess I’ll have to make you say it with more enthusiasm,” The pace of his thrusts quickened and deepened, each followed by a grunt. The expression on his face didn’t change, he was looking at me as if challenging me, I did not even try to match it, I was enjoying it too much.

Mouth wide open, moans escaping my throat, back arched to meet each of his thrusts, my legs wrapped tighter around him to try and keep him deep inside me. My heels were digging his back, soon his thrusting was accompanied by soft praises, telling me how good I made him feel, how much he was enjoying the sight of me splayed out for him like that. My breath was erratic, I had a harder time to breath with the ropes, but I could still breathe well enough. It felt so good. I hadn’t realized I had begged for more until I heard his chuckle, “You’re taking me so well, let’s see how good you’ll do when you’re on your knees,” He pulled out and told me to turn around.

With shaky limbs, I did as he gestured and pressed my chest on the bed, my hands on each side of my head, my ass up. As his hands caressed my ass, his cock teasing me, he leaned over and in a gentle voice asked my color, “Green, green,” I repeated it in case he hadn’t heard me with my head pressed against the mattress. One of his hand gently placed itself on my head and brushed my hair softly, before tracing his hand on my back, grazing his nails on my skin on the way. I whimpered at the sudden feeling, feeling even more elated.

Without further warning, he slid his cock back in and started fucking me senseless, he did not take his time. He was going in wildly, slamming hips against his without ever stopping. I was moaning loudly, my hands gripping the sheets, when I tried to move one of my hand to touch my clit, he laughed and told me to not move them. I whined, thinking I wouldn’t get any of that heaven sent pleasure, but was caught off guard when one of his hand did exactly what I needed. His finger was playing with my clit, all the while his cock was being rammed mercilessly inside me.

When my teeth clenched around the sheet to try to hold back my loud moaning, Law only went harder but more erratically, “I believe I said your mouth could do four things, mind reminding them to me?” I nodded against the mattress, but didn’t go ahead, I felt him move and felt the sudden stinging pain of the riding crop hitting my ass. A half-pain, half-pleasure gasp left my lips, as I obeyed, “Answer your- questions,” I breathed, wanting to cover my mouth when I interrupted myself by panting more groans. “Beg,” a strong thrust, a moan, “moan,” and again. “Scream your name-“ I felt his lips pressed against my neck as he whispered a praise, “That’s my girl,”

“Now, since you’re being so good, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, yes?” I nodded, he lazily played with my clit as his thrusts slowed down while he talked, “If by the time you’re going to cum, you haven’t admitted you’re my pretty little fucktoy,” he threaded his fingers through my hair and lifted my head to have me look at him, “And mean it, then I’ll stop, understood?” I looked at him through tired eyes, and yet with surprise. He wouldn’t do that, would he? As he if heard my thought, he smiled at me, a smile that told me he was entirely willing to do so. “Yes, sir.”

The fingers that were threaded through my hair slid to my cheek and caressed it gently, “You’re so beautiful like that, let’s have you even more fucked out, mh?” Just like that, he resumed his thrusting. It wasn’t as consistent as before, making it harder to get used to the pace. When he hit the spot, I panted out his name and regretted right away, “Right- there?-“ he bucked his hips each time, making me let out high-pitched whimpers. He leaned over, and whispered, out of breath, “Time’s running out, pretty girl,” I couldn’t look at him.

I was getting closer and closer at each thrust, my ability to speak getting lost on the way but it couldn’t let it happen. I had to tell him, but I was getting a bit foggy and out of it from how good I felt, yet I managed to utter between the melody of pleasure leaving my mouth, “Please- let me cum- I’m- fuck, your fucktoy- Law-“ A very satisfied grunt left his throat, while my face burnt hotter than fire, it was embarrassing to say so out loud, “Turn around, I want to see that pretty face of yours when I make you cum,”

When I did, I tried to cover my face, but he moved my hands away, pining them over my head once more. “There, was it that hard? Look at you, you can’t be shy when moments ago you were practically begging for my cock,” “Law, fuck me, please,” I breathed out tiredly, needily, his expression lost its arrogance for a moment and was filled with surprise before returning to the cocky one. Without another word, he fucked me senseless as promised. It was wild, rough, I tried to bring his hand to my neck, but he only shook his head and told me not tonight before focusing back on the sensation of my walls around his cock.

At this pace, we were both reaching our peak in no time. His thrusts were erratic, I was being loud but didn’t try to cover it, I knew he was enjoying it a lot and wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel. The mix of his cock hitting the perfect spot, his fingers stimulating my clit along the constricted feeling of the ropes around my chest brought me closer to release. I felt my toes curl as my back arched, the praising that flooded from Law’s mouth made me break, the knot inside my stomach snapped and I felt myself go limp. Law joined me soon, finishing off before pulling out.

I was a bit dazed, but at some point, I saw Law kneel on the side of the bed with a washcloth and ointment. He first undid the ropes around my form, it took some time. I looked at him through tired eyes the entire time, he was focused but when he looked at me, a small smile was painted on his face. “You did good, we’ll talk more about that later-“ “I’m good right now, what do we talk about?” I slurred, was I that tired?

“First, let’s take care of you. It was a bit rougher than I expected,” He said softly, when he was done with the ropes, he helped me lay on my stomach and covered my butt with a blanket as he put some ointment on my back. Maybe it was because I was only half-awake, or perhaps it was because I was dozing off even more with the massage I was receiving as he spread the ointment on my back, but I spoke, “I want to do this again… not right now, not all the time, because I think I’d like to just have casual sex with you along sessions like this too,”

With my head resting on my arms, I glanced at Law, “But also go on a date, or more than one,” I mumbled against my arms. Law hadn’t answered yet and was now drying his hands as he handed me a shirt. For a moment, I thought I had fucked up once again. That I should have just left after the sex, but not only was I physically unable to do so at this instant, but I also did not want to. “You are aware my schedule is fucked up?”

“That didn’t stop you from sexting a stranger from your office, did it?” I asked teasingly, making a blush appear on his cheeks as he stood up and put everything away. I only now realized he had dressed up once more. “What I’m saying is that, we can make it work if we want to, and… I don’t mind having online… fun if we’re both a bit busy but horny, you know?” a snort escaped his lips as he left the room and came back just as quickly with a plate in hand.

“Would you be willing to go to charity galas? Because if we’re dating, there will be a lot of those,” He said softly, his cheeks still tainted with pink. I looked up at him curiously as I put on the shirt and sat up, groaning as I felt the soreness that was settling. “Would I have to wear a fancy outfit and look super hot?” I asked half-jokingly while taking the food he handed me. It felt so fucking good to eat after such an intense effort.

Smiling genuinely, he nodded, “Yes, and maybe even add a little accessory, I think you’ve heard of it, it’s called a vibrating egg-“ “Law! Fuck off- it was- no, you know what? Let’s! I think it could be fun, but you can’t blame me if I pull you to the side when it’s too much- plus we were talking casually, did you have to bring that up?” I asked rhetorically, this time my cheeks were aflame. But we were both smiling, and when he placed a hand on my knee reassuringly and I placed mine on his.

“It’s a strange situation but I think something good can come out of it, do we give it a try?” We had both talked about being willing to do this, but this time asking it like that felt a bit frightening. I feel like he could still refuse, and I was afraid of it, but still waited. “I’ll try my best to keep you entertained, Edelweiss,” He put an emphasis on my username before leaning in and kissing me softly. We both smiled into the kiss, feeling a lot better than we did when it started, almost content.

Boredom makes you do crazy things, lack of free time too… but I think boredom won’t be a concern of mine no more, and no matter how busy I’ll be I’ll surely find some entertainment with the prettiest surgeon I would soon call partner, of more than research purposes.

[The end]

#words of pleasure #wop #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law #law x reader #one piece x reader #donquixote rosinante #one piece corazon #physicalturian AO3 #physicalturian #one piece writing #writings #ao3 writer

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

all gone, all gone, all gone

part 2: the two of them are always walking me into the stormy weather

CW: discussion of a suicide attempt, implied emotional abuse, grief

This wasn't in my original outline and doesn't really further the plot but it's here for the angst. there's a tiny relevant plot detail if you squint. but if you skipped this one, you really wouldn't be lost.

Part 1 | AO3 | Masterlist

Cordelia’s heart raced as she entered Alastair’s bedroom. It felt like a terrible invasion of privacy, but the others were right: if there was any evidence of what he was doing with Belial in this room, she needed to find it. She made the trip over and told her mother and Risa a quick lie about him being pulled out of the city for Shadowhunter business. If the time came that she needed to tell them the truth, she would deal with it then. Slipping into his bedroom afterwards was easy enough.

Her anxiety was eased by the fact that it didn’t feel like her brother’s room. She could recognize all of his things: his small collection of political theories, his brilliant dagger collection, a single tapestry on the wall. However, it was quite rare to see a thing out of place in his room. He’d always kept things very tidy, almost unnaturally so. So perfect that it did not seem real. Now, his desk was a mess, there was some clothing strewn on his armchair, a book left on his nightstand.

It was wrong. It was all wrong. This wasn’t his room. It didn’t feel right, and if her mother or Risa came in, they would know it, too. She got started, first picking up the clothes around the room, then straightening the belongings he kept on his dresser. When she moved onto his desk, she remembered what she’d come to the house for in the first place. The reason James was outside, waiting for her in the carriage. She heaved a sigh and began to sort through and organize the papers on his desk. There were financial documents, a few letters of condolence, even an unopened letter from Charles Fairchild, who clearly still had not given up. Nothing that gave any hint of what Belial might be planning.

As she tucked the papers away into the drawer, she felt a note stuck to the underside of his desk. She pulled it away, finding an envelope with nothing written on it but her name. Her hands shook as she tore it open, her heart beginning to race again.

Dear Cordelia,

If you are reading this letter, I assume it means that I am gone. Unless, of course, you were snooping again, in which case I am bound to be quite upset with you. In the case of the former, however, I must apologize for leaving you so soon. I hope there will never need be a day that you read this letter, but this serial killer business is dangerous at best, and I cannot in good conscience risk my life without some hope that in the event of my death you will read this and heed my words.

She skimmed through the rest of the letter. In it, he detailed all of the things he’d never told her: the full truth about their father. He told her the things he did to him, the things he did to her. He explained Elias’ actions that he was not able to protect her from, though she’d never realized they’d happened at all. From Alastair’s perspective, he could see what she could not: how her father seemed to fall ill most often when she was happy, when she’d begun a new project, when she’d started to make a new friend. He never truly needed her help at all.

He explained it to her and told her that it would be her responsibility now to protect their sibling in ways that he would not be able. He told her what to do, what to look for, how she might be able to help. He apologized for this now being her burden to bear.

Why was it ever yours? she thought, tears springing to her eyes. It didn’t make any sense. This letter was clearly written before their father had died, and she was sure that Alastair’s deal was after. Not that Belial’s Alastair would ever leave a note, anyways. It was not written as someone who welcomed death but as someone who feared it. How was he even connected to the serial killer? How was he risking his life? Why?

She heard a noise from behind her and quickly tucked the letter away.

“What are you doing in here?” she heard in Persian.

She spun around. “Nothing, Risa,” she quickly replied, blinking away her tears. “He simply asked me to retrieve something for him before he left.”

Risa raised an eyebrow at her and shut the bedroom door. “Cordelia joon, what’s really happening? We used that ‘Shadowhunter business’ lie enough times on you when your father disappeared for days at a time; I know how to recognize it.”

Cordelia thought of the letter tucked in her pocket. She exhaled and sat down on the edge of Alastair’s bed. “He-” Raziel, could she actually say these words out loud? “He tried to kill himself. However, a Prince of Hell intervened, offered him a deal. He took it. He’s being controlled by him now, in some way, I think.”

“I see,” Risa responded. She’d been staying with Sona at Cornwall Gardens ever since Elias’ death, and being able to speak in her mother tongue again was a small comfort to Cordelia. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it.

“Are you… surprised?”

“I certainly did not expect it, but I am not surprised, either. What are you trying to ask, truly?”

“I just want to understand why he would do something like that, why he would- Right after our father’s death? Hadn’t we experienced enough tragedy? Shouldn’t that have been a good thing, for him? With Baba dead he could finally move on, be happy? Why would he-”

“Cordelia joon,” Risa said slowly, sitting beside her and placing a comforting hand on her back. “Your brother is a troubled person, he has been for many years. Not in the ways your parents spoke of it. He did not carry the stress of a boy becoming a man. It was different, it was the weight of many decades that could crush the strongest of shoulders, and his were very small at the time it was placed on his. Do not attempt to enter his mind too much; it will do you no good. Just know there was nothing in this world more important to him than you. Whatever led him to such a decision, he would not have made it without believing in some twisted way that you would not be affected by it.”

Cordelia began to protest, but her words were caught in her throat.

“I know. But we do not always think rationally.”

“He does.”

“None of us do, azizam. Not always.”

Cordelia thought of the letter in her pocket. “He didn’t need to protect us anymore,” she realized. “Not me, not the baby. Not with Baba gone.”

“Maybe,” Risa responded, “but you will drive yourself mad attempting to understand this. Perhaps you will be able find a way to break this deal he made with this Devil, and only then will we attempt to understand what happened, if only to keep it from happening again. And if instead we need to tell your mother the truth, I will be by your side.”

She only nodded in response. “I should- James is waiting for me. I need to finish cleaning, if Mâmân comes in, she’ll know something is wrong-”

“I’ll help.”

Both her and Risa took the next several minutes and tidied up Alastair’s room. Cordelia attempted to discreetly peek into the pages of his books and looked into his drawers, but she still found no sign of anything Belial-related.

As she readied herself to leave, Risa offered her one last thought. “Good luck, joonam. You are so strong, and as is your brother. Remember that.”

Cordelia gave her a sad smile. “Thank you for your help.”

She bid her goodbyes and hurried back to the carriage.

“That took a while,” James commented. “Did you find something?”

Cordelia thought of the letter. “No, not really. I- I had to clean his room.” Her voice broke with the admission. “That sounds so stupid. He just- He never leaves his room like that, or he didn’t, before-”

“It’s okay.” James signaled for the driver to take them back to Curzon Street. “Are you alright?”

Cordelia shrugged. They spent the ride in silence. When they arrived at the townhouse, the rest of the Merry Thieves were already waiting for them.

“Did you find anything?” Matthew asked.

She thought of the letter in her dress. The whole of it was solidly unrelated to the matter at hand, but the serial killer- “There was one thing. A letter. It’s not- He wrote it before our father died, but it mentions something about the serial killer.”

“Can we see it?” Matthew asked.

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “It’s not… There’s just the one line about it.” She sighed and pulled out the letter. “It says ‘this serial killer business is dangerous at best, and I cannot in good conscience risk my life without some hope that in the event of my death,’ etcetera, etcetera. That’s the only line about it. It was clearly written before our father died, but… I don’t understand. He wasn’t involved in the serial killer investigation at all.”

“Perhaps he was already working with Belial by then?”

“He wasn’t. He wouldn’t- He wouldn’t have worked with him before the deal, and this was certainly before it.”

Thomas seemed like he was about to speak, but Matthew spoke first. “There’s still a possibility,” he said gently. “If we could read it, perhaps-”

“No! I already said that you couldn’t! And it doesn’t make any sense for him to have been working with Belial before my father’s death!”

“We’re only trying to help, and it’s not helpful for you to be hiding-”

“I’m not hiding anything! It’s a letter he wrote to me about our father and what I would need to do to protect our sibling from him in a world where he was still alive and Alastair wasn’t, alright?” She didn’t know when the tears began to fall. “So, no, you can’t read it, and, no, I don’t think he would have risked his life, and our sibling’s safety, without sufficient motivation. There must be another explanation.” She folded the letter again and put her head in her hands.

“Perhaps you should go,” James suggested to the others. “We’ll meet tonight at the Devil and decide where to go from here.”

She listened to them leave, but she didn’t look up.

I'm finishing my finals this week & next so hopefully I will updating my fics more frequently once that's over! i've also made a playlist for this fic! it's here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4KaoQmHAoEFMkZH5Fd23gM?si=1357d801920f41c5

taglist (lmk to be added/removed): @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @littlx-songbxrd

Part 3

#alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #tlh #the last hours #fanfiction #fanfic #all gone fic #cw suicide #cw emotional abuse

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simpsiren · 3 years

Text

sticky notes: the story

mark lee x reader

introduction

main masterlist

description. you use sticky notes to get into contact with your soulmate.

genre. soulmate au, high school au, strangers to lovers au

warnings. nonee

a/n. so some people requested for a full story of this so here it is! i really liked making this because the concept is just so cute cudndn oh and i did include the same idea as what i did in my previous post but i had to change it a little so that it would fit the plot. this is a really really long ff since its a slow burn typa thing so please try to stick with me on this one HAHA anyways enjoyy! :D

“you actually believe that?”

you lift your head up from your notes to look at soyoung. she nods her head and hum eagerly. you rub your temples from seeing her respond. “i do believe soulmates exist. but sticky notes to talk to them? what’s social media for then? and how is it even scientifically possible?” you question soyoung, bringing your eyes down as you continue to do your homework.

“that’s the beauty of soulmates, ray!” soyoung whines. you shake your head. “you’re dumb to believe it without confirming the information with other relevant sources.” you mutter out bluntly. you hear soyoung letting out a ‘tsk’. “here you go again being a history student. i swear im glad i never took it.” you scoff and slam your pen on the table gently.

“excuse me, woman! at least i dont have to memorise the whole textbook and only having 5 pages of content coming out in the exam.” you stick your tongue out playfully to tease soyoung. “i cant get over the fact that valcanos didn’t come out eventhough i memorised so much for it.”

the both of you laugh, knowing that the two of you can never stop debating on whether history or geography is the better subject.

“ray complete your homework at home. we cant stay in the classroom for long you know?” soyoung stands up to get to her seat, which is 2 rows down yours since you were sitting right at the back. you liked sitting at the back. it allowed you to always be able to use your phone in case you get bored in class. you still cant believe that your teachers think you’re a good and obedient student. you figured they only assumed that due to your high grades.

you sigh “that’s true.” you turn around to grab your back that was hanging in your chair and start packing your materials. once you were done, you grab the class key and walk over to soyoung’s seat, waiting for her to finish packing. you notice soyoung has finish packing and went to switch off the lights. you allow soyoung to step out first before you close the door behind you and lock the classroom door.

you and soyoung walked down the hallway silently, you were looking out the window to watch the sunset while soyoung had her eyes on her feet. only your footsteps could be heard as almost everyone has left the school grounds except for some teachers who were working late. the school normally closes at 7pm and you’re walking out at 6:50. to break the silence, soyoung opens her mouth to start a conversation.

“okay if you dont believe me why dont you try it yourself? like write a simple introduction to your soulmate.” you raise an eyebrow as you shove your hands into the front pockets of your mom jeans. “why dont you do it?” you fought back as you huff. soyoung bites the inside of her cheek as a moment of silence passes for her to think of an answer.

“because i believe it. and you do not. so you should try it.” you smacked soyoung’s arm, making her flinch back and shouting a loud ‘ouch’. you roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t hit her hard and she was just overreacting. “brilliant excuse,so. but if its going to make you stop talking about it, i might as well.” soyoung face lit up as she jumps happily and starts skipping ahead of you. you laugh and pull the handle at back of her bag to keep her explosion of excitement to the minimum.

“you owe me brown sugar milk tea. large.” you taunted. soyoung waves her hand lazily. “i’ll buy you one after school tomorrow. but you better update me during math.”

you wanted to say how you could just text soyoung to update her, but you remembered the fact that soyoung’s mother took away her phone since she didn’t do well for this year’s midterms. although to you, soyoung’s grades were decent. unfortunately for her, soyoung has to live up to her asian mom’s high expectations. the thought of this made you want to frown, but you showed a bright smile regardless as the two of you finally made it to the school gate, waving to each other and bidding farewell before walking down opposite paths.

once you arrived at home, you took out your phone from your back pocket. you saw a notification from your mother saying that your parents would be home late. you shrug your shoulders as you walk to your room. “as always.” you breathed out.

you did your normal routine of showering and eating leftover dinner that you needed to heat up at the couch while you completed one episode of the anime series you were so hooked on. you continue watching but with the amount of homework you have, you might finish them all by midnight if you dont slack.

you turned off the tv and washed your plate before heading into your room. as you close the door behind you, your eyes immediately went to your desk, which was pretty messed up since you had a test to study for yesterday that you completely weren’t prepared for and had to squeeze in as much information as you can. hence, the scattering of notes and textbooks.

you stroll over to your desk and sat down. you take out your homework from your back which was beside the desk. looking at the stack of homework, you groan in despair as shove it to the back of the desk till it hit the wall. “ah fuck it! im just going to ask kun for help.” you admitted your defeat depsite thinking you would be able to gain some energy from your dinner. you also thought about how you’ve done your homework in the morning plenty of time so i shouldnt be a problem unless kun doesn’t offer his help.

you jump to your bed and lay down, bringing your phone out and immediately start scrolling through instagram. as you swiped your finger up to look at the posts of the people you follow, you stop at one. a picture of a couple who met through the sticky note theory. or so they claim. your thumbs hover over the screen as your eyes look up to the ceiling, starting to remember what soyoung asked to do to get your bubble tea.

yoy tap your index finger on the side of your phone as you constantly started to think whether you should do it or not. you’ve heard the rumours. but are they even true? the more you thought about it, the more intriguing the idea got. but at the same time, you also thought of how stupid it sounded and was probably made to fool people.

after contemplating and having in a debate in your head that felt like forever, you finally place your phone down beside you and take a deep breath. “ill do it.” you groan to yourself, letting curiosity take over your other feelings.

you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed and walk over to your desk. you push all the papers and textbooks aside, grabbing a yellow sticky notepad from your stationery organiser. you had other colours too like pink and purple, but you figured that you should go with the classic.

pulling out a random pen that was laying in between the pages of one of your textbooks, you tilt your head to the side as you start thinking of what to write, unconsciously biting the end of your pen in the process.

you bite the side of your cheek and shrug, deciding to go with the plan of writing whatever that comes to your mind.

um hi? i dont even know if you’re going to see this. its funny, really. i heard a rumour that you can communicate with your soulmate through sticky notes. it’s probably just fake news and im writing to a nobody. that would honestly be embarrassing but it’ll be like love letters.. to myself(?) or my soulmate. write back? haha

you read over what you wrote an endless amount of times, thinking if you should make changes. you groan and immediately stick the sticky note onto your wall, giving up on giving second thoughts about what you call this ridiculousness.

you went about your night, forgetting you have left the sticky note on the wall. as you were on you bed scrolling through tumblr at 2 in the morning, you hear something. it sounded like a piece of paper had fallen from your desk.

unable to see in complete darkness, you turn on the flashlight from your phone and walk around your room, trying to find whatever it is that fell. it didn’t take you long to find a small yellow sticky note that you accidentally stepped on.

you pick it up, remembering that you wrote on the sticky note and thought that it was yours. however, once you were able to get a closer look, you noticed that the words on the sticky note have changed. so has the handwriting.

holy shit. i dont know what is this. but apparently a sticky note appeared on my wall saying i have a soulmate. my friends told me i should write back because of some rumour. so here i am trying. hi im mark. i dont know your name, but hope you’ll tell me once you recieve this. you’re in luck because apparently the rumour is true. im just as crepped out as you are.

you froze in your spot. your fingers shaking as you read the note again. you scratch your head. being too tired and unable to think straight at 2 in the morning, you place the sticky note on your desk and went back to bed to play with your phone. you soon forget about the fact that your soulmate has replied to your message that you have written on your sticky note.

as you got ready for the next period which was math, soyoung immediately runs over to you, dragging the chair from the desk beside you and taking a seat. you flinch a little when you suddenly see her close to you.

“so did you try it?!” soyoung asks, her voice filled with enthusiasm . you brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you take out your textbook from under the desk. “did you get a reply then?”

your mind started to take you back to the mysterious encounter that you had last night. “mhm.” you reply simply. “though the only thing i remember because it seems to be the only relevant information is that the person’s name is mark.” soyoung gasped loudly, making you crease your forehead as you watch her overreacting again.

“your soulmate’s name is mark then.” soyoung concludes, folding her arms confidently as if she made a great discovery. you laugh, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “isnt it obvious?” soyoung frowns fakely.

your mouth gapes open as you hit soyoung’s arm lightly. “buy me my milk tea!” you demanded with a wide smile. soyoung places her notebook on your table and nods constantly. “i will you addict.” she groans. you happily say thank you as your teacher comes into the classroom and class began.

“what are you going to do about it now though?” as you recieved the question from soyoung, you kept silent for a moment, giving time to think of an answer.

“ill write something back? i dont know.. ill have to read the letter again when i get back home.” you whispe to soyoung. she nods in reply as the two of you payed your attention to the front again. it surprised you that soyoung was paying attention but you only assumed that she wanted to do better in class and shrug your shouders, writing down the notes youve missed while talking to soyoung.

as for you, your concentration in class dipped slightly because now, the thing that is occupying your head the most is the thought that the sticky notes theory might actually be real and you cant say its not possible anymore, making you even more shocked than you did last night.

lucky for you, today is the only day of the week where your class ends the earliest, along with two other lower ranked classes. you and soyoung quickly pack up to go to the mall to get your reward. after soyoung buys you your drink, you and soyoung went your separate ways.

after about 30 minutes of taking the bus and walking, you finally arrived at home. you place your drink on the living room table and proceed to place your bag in the room and head for the showers.

once you were done showering, you walk out of the bathroom to head to your room while drying your hair with a small towel. opening the door, you enter and went straight to your clothing rack. just when you were about to grab a shirt from the hanger, you heard the same noise last night. another piece of paper has fallen on the floor.

you turn your head and look down. this time, you found another sticky note right in front of your feet. the colour of the sticky note changed from yellow to a light blue. you tilt your head as you pick up the stick note from the floor, finding it odd as you wonder how the colour of the sticky note changed.

you take a deep breath before reading it, noticing that the handwriting was similar to the one you read last night. a little messier, but still readable.

hi again.. im not sure if you’ll recieve this since its the afternoon and i know people are busy with work or school. i skipped school today so haha. um i just wanted to write to you, despite me not knowing a single thing about you. its odd really. its like i feel the need to write something to an unknown identity that people assume to be my soulmate. i still dont know your name, so i hope youll reply soon. take your time and take care :)

- mark

“skip school? what is he, a bad boy?” you scoff to yourself. you try to take in whatever’s on the note, but another thought comes to mind. you walk over to your desk and saw that the yellow sticky note with mark’s reply was still there. you find everything about this weird and just odd in general. a lot of questions sprouted, but you didn’t want to think of it since you were afraid you would complicate your thoughts and just throw yourself into a stress hole.

you continue to dry your hair with one hand while the other held onto the light blue sticky note. you bit your lip and gulp. after letting out a long sigh, you place the sticky note next to the other one and changed into your clothes, as well as bringing your drink from the living room table to your room, placing it on the desk as you sat down.

you take out your pencilcase from your bag and brought out your fresh new black pen that you just bought at the school’s stationery store. the previous pen you had was full of ink till soyoung was dumb enough to drop it, spoiling the pen and was unable to be used again.

peeling off another yellow stick note from the stack at the edge of your desk, you were about to put your pen on paper when you realise you dont even know what to write. what do you say to this person you barely know about? you continuously tap the edge of the pen against your desk as you take a sip of your drink. you look over to the two sticky notes with the messages that the person has left. its funny how you have to think so hard just to write a short message.

hey again. i actually ended school early today. my name’s raven. but my friends call me ray. i honestly don’t know what to say to you. im still dumbfounded over the fact that you’re my soulmate and we’re here communicating over sticky notes. the world really does work in a strange way. if you dont mind, i guess i want to know how old you are and you’re education status?

you held out the sticky note in front of you and sigh in satisfaction. why? it’s because of your neat handwriting. it was always a trait of yours that you deeply appreciate. you place the sticky note on the wall and advert your attention to the other sticky notes, placing them on the wall beside the new one you have just written.

“will this drive me insane? i might end up with a whole wall of this.” you say to yourself, rubbing your face with your palm before going to your bed and laying down, wanting to have your evening nap.

“this is awesome!”

“no its scary.”

mark and his group of friends stared at the sticky note that has a message written with beautiful handwriting. mark flinched when he felt an arm on his shoulder, turning around to notice it was chenle’s. “when did you write your previous sticky note?” renjun suddenly asked. mark tilts his head as he tried to find an answer.

“less than an hour before you guys came i guess?” mark shrugs, standing up from his desk and taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside jaemin and haechan. “this raven girl is your soulmate then.” chenle walks towards mark and stands in front of him. mark nods slowly. the room grew silent again with everyone having the similar thoughts.

“you know what would be funny?” haechan smacks mark’s thigh, the sound making everyone turn their attention to mark and haechan. “what?” mark asked with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“why dont we prank her and say you’re a sugar daddy and live in a mansion?!” everyone gave yuta weird looks, making haechan laugh hysterically. “are you crazy? do you think i want to chase my soulmate away?” mark scolded haechan, smacking him hard on the chest, resulting in haechan’s back falling onto the bed.

“you’re always asking for a beating i swear.” renjun comments, walking towards haechan and balling his hand into a fist and acting as if he was about to attack. jaemin laughs to try and calm them down. “kids let’s not fight.” jaemin announced, looking over to jeno only to find him standing there watching quietly.

“go ahead, mark. you should write something. we cant keep her waiting.” jeno finally spoke up, grabbing the sticky notepad and a random pen from mark’s table and passing it over to him.

mark stared at the blank paper while the others were talking about what to have for dinner. it didn’t take him long to decide what to write. when mark starts writing and began to be in full concentration, everyone crowds around him to see what he’s writing.

sup raven! i wont call you ray since we aren’t friends yet. im still shocked. like the possibility of things like this being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen. but anyways, to answer you question, im a high schooler from dream high. im in my third year. its kind of awkward for me while im writing this since my friends are reading every word im taking down. i guess i should ask you the same question back then. hope to hear from you soon.

“will you guys stop being nosy?” mark groans, standing up and pasting the sticky note on his wall, along with the other sticky notes he received from you. “you didn’t have to say that we’re here.” haechan retorts. mark rolls his eyes. “jesus..” mark mutters under his breathe. “anyways, yall are paying for dinner since you guys bribed me to write back.” mark sticks his tongue out playfully and runs out to the living room. everyone follows suit.. except for jeno.

jeno slowly walks towards the wall and leans forward to get a closer look of the sticky notes, specifically the two others beside the new one that mark just wrote. “raven? why does that sound so familiar? the handwriting...” jeno brings his finger up and lightly hovers them over the uniquely written words. it looked like calligraphy, and retro looking. jeno felt as though he had seen it before somewhere, or knew someone who wrote like that.

jeno snapped out of his deep thoughts when jaemin called out to him, making him walk towards the door and glancing at the sticky notes once more before joining the others in the living room.

you were currently video calling your friends when you heard the crackling of a piece of paper. of course you knew what that meant. you peered down the the floor from your bed and reached your hand out to pick up the sticky note. “ray?” doyoung called out to you when he noticed your face wasnt on screen. you lay back down on the floor and brought your phone up to show your face.

“what was that sound earlier?” lucas asked, currently sounding hyper. “the mysterious mark sent me another sticky note.” you reply sarcastically, waving the sticky note to the camera to let everyone look at it. everyone nodded their heads at the some time, some letting out a long ‘ah’ as well. “read it out loud!” yuta shouted.

“the fuck no!” you shouted back. you stared at the sticky note, but didn’t bother to read it. you thought of doing that once you’re done video calling them.

“how was today for you guys?” you asked, wanting to know how they’re doing.

“its tiring! we had dance practice, then we have to do recordings for our new albums. we barely get any sleep.” ten whines, his tone filled with stress. you laugh loudly. it made everyone frown and pout. you sigh. “pursuing your NCT world domination is never easy.” you commented, highlighting the word ‘world domination’ with a change of tone.

everyone lets out a long sigh and started to complain one by one, making the whole video call chaotic for almost 10 minutes. you could only smile and shake your head.

after about an hour or so of talking about basically everything and catching up with each other, everyone decided that they should end the call here since it was beginning to get dark and they needed to start practice soon. you bid your goodbye to them once more and ended the call.

you now adverted your attention to the sticky note. reading the letter, you raise both eyebrows. “dream high? that’s not far from here..” you mumbled to yourself. you started to think about everything you know about dream high. you know it’s was about an hour’s journey from where you live. it wasnt really well known either. the overall vibe of the school was mediocre.

however, you felt like you were missing something. something about that school is somehow related to you. you just couldn’t think of an answer despite squeezing all thoughts that you have in your brain. you groan and stood up from your bed and to your desk, proceeding to wanting to write a reply to mark.

hey. sorry if you get this quite late. i was busy video calling my friends. to answer your question, im a third year as well from jookin high. i would ask for your number so we dont have to do this all the time but my friend would scold me saying “but you’re removing the fun out of it.” but anyways, mark aka my soulmate, tell me about yourself, to start off.

you stick the note onto the wall, looking at the row of messages you’ve had recieved so far. you found it weird how the first time you’ve sent the note and got a reply back, it was on the same sticky note, just different handwriting. but you had to write on a new sticky note to send a new message only to get the same sticky note with a different message in return.

you only see his answers lined up on your wall. you started to wonder how this mark guy looked like. is he good looking? what are his hobbies? his attitude towards school? you really wished you could just text him through instagram and not have to go through all this trouble. but that option would earn you a large smack on the back by soyoung and your really didn’t want that.

“do we really need to be here now? like now?!”soyoung whined, while pushing the cart and following behind you while you tossed some packets of frozen bacon. you stopped walking and turn around, nodding your head intensely. soyoung groans and took out her phone, proceeding to use it while still pushing the cart.

you walk around the supermarket, trying to find the ingredients listed on your notes in your phone. it was the weekends and you’re parents were going to be away for a business trip for a week so you thought of inviting soyoung over and making home cooked meals as a bonding session for you two.

after about 30 minutes of gathering the ingredients and having soyoung constantly screaming and fangirling over tiktok edits of jaehyun from NCT. one note: she has yet to know that you know them and that they’re your friends. you figured that it would be best to not let anyone know so as to avoid any situation that would put your friends in a tight spot, since well they’re idols, you were looking for one last item that you had trouble finding.

“soyoung help me! stop watching tiktoks!” you groan, snatching soyoung’s phone away and shoving it in her back pocket. soyoung rolls her eyes lazily and the two of you proceeded to scan the different isles and shelves, looking over every item.

while you were too concentrated looking at the bottom shelves, you felt that you have bumped into someone. you squat down, letting out a soft ‘ouch’ before standing up and looking to see who you bumped into.

“wait. jaemin?” you furrow your eyebrows as you tilt your head, pointing your finger at the guy in front of you. “raven!” you noticed that it was jaemin after all, and both your faces lit up and the same time, grinning widely at each other.

“uhhh..” soyoung says out loud, you and jaemin turn your heads to face soyoung who was behind you. “oh! this is jaemin. we used to be neighbourhood friends before he moved out 4 years ago.” you introduced jaemin to soyoung. jaemin nodded and gave her a bright smile. soyoung only shrugged her shoulders and took out her phone. you turn your attention back to jaemin.

“why are you even here? dont you live quite far?” you ask, your fingers interlocked behind your back. jaemin nods, running a hand through his hair.

“well yes. but we came here to find something that only this supermarket sells.” jaemin replied back, his warm smile never leaving his lips. you smile, reached your hand out to ruffle his hair, laughing softly afterwards. “we? who’re you with?” you stared at jaemin with eyes of suspicion. jaemin started pinching your cheeks, making you whine and begging him to let go.

“with my friend, ray chill. im still single.” jaemin pulled away and folded his arms, pouting. “im sure you’ll find one soon.” you reached out to ruffle his hair and give off a wide smile.

while you and jaemin were catching up and being in your own world, soyoung got too bored of watching the two of you and decided to walk around the supermarket, leaving the cart behind you.

just as she was looking at the drinks isle to get her favourite sweet drink, she sees someone picking up a bunch of bottles one by one and placing them back on the shelve. out of kindness, she decided to help, picking up a bottle and placing it on fhe shelve before looking up to face the guy, who had a straight face while looking at her.

“i was just trying to help. im soyoung.” soyoung smiled, reaching her hand out and waiting for thr guy to greet back. he looked at her but doesn’t respond, proceeding to pick up the last bottle that was seen on the floor. “im jeno.” jeno stands up and nods his head to greet soyoung. soyoung nods back, walking down the isle to grab her drink from the shelve. “have a nice day.” soyoung says before leaving the isle and disappearing out of jeno’s sight. he only shrugged in response and went to do his own thing.

“you met who?!” haechan asks as he takes a sip of his ice cold water. everyone had their heads turned to jaemin, who raised an eyebrow at everyone’s weird expression. “i met my old friend raven. what’s so shocking?” jaemin asks back casually, picking up a few pieces of fries and dipping it into the sauce before shoving it in his mouth.

“dude that’s the name of mark’s soulmate!” haechan screams, making everyone flinch due to the loud noise. “i highly doubt it. there’s plenty of girls in the world with the name raven.” jaemin protests with his mouth full and chugging down gulps of coca cola.

“i mean that’s true. jeno you were with jaemin, right? dont you suspect anything?” renjun starts to question jeno, who was silently playing with his phone. looking up at the others, he gulps.

“i didn’t know he met his friend. i was picking out drinks. i just met a girl named soyoung.” jeno shrugs, taking a bite of his burger. mark scratches the back of his head, now starting to think of the fact that jaemin might have met his soulmate. though he also thought about how that could not be totally possible.

“nah i dont think its her. like really ‘raven’ could be anyone.” mark says, siding with jaemin. haechan tilts his head in awe. “jaemin do you know what school she’s going to?” jaemin only shakes his head.

“i lost all contact with her when i left her neighbourhood. plus we were young. i barely knew her honestly.” the living room falls silent, everyone trying to think of a conclusion to this.

chenle groans, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the table, gathering everyone’s attention as their heads shot up. “instead of pondering as if yall are solving some crime, why dont mark just ask her through the sticky note god dammit?” chenle pinches the bridge of his nose.

everyone’s mouths gape open as the room was suddenly filled with ‘ah’s all over. chenle shakes his head. everyone was now looking intensively at mark. mark furrows his eyebrows. “okay guys hold up ill grab the stick note.” mark stands up and takes one bite of his burger before going into his room for awhile and coming out with a sticky note and a pen.

jaemin noticed jeno being silent the whole way. and althought thats normal since its jeno’s nature and personality to not be so outspoken like the others, jaemin could sense that jeno was off and seem to be in deep thoughts.

and jaemin was right. jeno couldnt stop thinking about jaemin’s encounter with ‘raven’. the name sounded so familiar. he tried to recall every girl he has came into contact with during his life. why did he feel like the name was tied to the handwriting he saw on the sticky notes?

“jeno.” jaemin nudged him in the shoulder. jeno mumbled a soft ‘oh’ before turning his attention to mark just like the others. “she didn’t send me a reply after my last one though.” mark says, looking up.

“its fine. she probably didn’t see it. just write already.” chenle says in anticipation. mark shakes his head. “calm the heck down its not like we can get an answer immediately.” mark rolls his eyes and began to write.

hey raven. um i know this may sound weird. but have you gone to a supermarket and met a guy names jaemin? im not a stalker i swear. its just that he’s my friend and apparently you know him. though i dont think that such a coincidence and come by just like that. hope you hear from you soon.

jeno stared at the sticky note that mark proceeded to place at a random wall of the living room while everyone continued to eat and chat. his thoughts finally linked and a imaginary lightbulb appeared on above his head when he finally realises why he was so drawn to mark’s soulmate.

you were focused on wanting to solve a math question when the sticky note above your desk’s wall had fallen in front of you, revealing a new message. you place your pen down and let out a sigh, remembering that you hsve forgotten to write a reply and that mark probably sent you another one.

you tied your hair in a messy low bun before picking up the sticky note to get a closer view. you blink your eyes rapidly as your eyes furrow in awe. what the note said really shocked you and made you freeze in your spot. jaemin is friends with your soulmate? there’s no way.

you sat there for awhile as you constantly read over the words, still in shock with your moutb hanging open. you just couldn’t believe it. was it really what it seemed to be? another thought came to your mind as well. the thought of just who is this friend of jaemin’s? could it be mark? was your soulmate literally in the same place as you yet you never knew?

you grab a fresh new piece of sticky note and proceeded to write a reply after staring at it for so long and thought that it was finally time that you do something.

okay what you wrote really was weird. jaemin’s my old neighbourhood friend. its such a coincidence how you know him. i guess the connections are there. so haha yeah. damn. im very mind blown right now.

you take a look at your handwriting again, smiling to yourself. “i really do love my handwriting.” you mumble under your breath. you stuck the sticky note on the wall and resumed doing your homework, hoping that mark would reply soon.

while the boys were immersed in the horror movie they were watching on friday night, everyone turned their heads to each other when they heard the noise of a piece of paper falling onto the floor. in unison, everyone turned their head to where the noise came from and seeing the sticky note that fell.

jisung grabs the controller and pauses the movie. “we’re watching a scary movie and creepy stuff like that happens?!” jisung asks, stuttering out of complete fear.

mark decided to be the brave one after seeing everyone’s terrified face and stands up to pick up the sticky note, going back to take his seat on the couch soon after. “d-does that always happen?” mark shrugs. “well duh. that’s how i know she sent a reply. it wouldn’t be this scary if we weren’t watching a horror movie.”

everyone’s heads once again gather around mark as he read the note out loud. everyone gapes their mouth open, some covered their mouths while jeno could only stare at it in disbelief. “i guess we’ve confirmed its her.” mark breathes out, placing the sticky note on the table.

jeno reaches out to grab the sticky note to have a look. the unique handwriting that he suspected would belong to you really was yours. out of anger, he tears the sticky notes into two. everyone had their eyes widened at jeno’s sudden shocking action. mark snatches the now torn note back, looking down at them before facing jeno.

“what the heck was that for?!”

“dont talk to her anymore. she’s trouble.”

everyone lets out a sigh in unison except for mark, looking at everyone’s weird reaction. “what do you mean trouble? and why does it look like you all know something except me?” mark furrows his eyes as everyone exchanged glances continuously for a moment.

“she’s just not someone you should be with. that’s all.” jeno stands up and walks to his room, slamming the door shut and produring a piercing noise. the room was silent for awhile until mark speaks up.

“what am i missing here you guys?”

no one replies.

“we’ve been friends for a year and you guys are all keeping secrets for me?” mark scoffs in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“we arent in the position to tell you. its jeno.” jaemin murmurs under his breath, looking down on the ground just like the others.

marks keeps silent and stands up from the couch, the palm the torn note was in is balled into a fist as he goes into his room as well.

haechan sighs. “jeno has to tell the truth. he’s been holding onto that grudge almost forever now.”

everyone nods their heads in agreement. “if not, he’s going to live in despair now that he knows she’s his best friend’s soulmate..” jisung adds on.

everyone could only silently hope that things could go well.

after that day you’ve sent a reply, you havent heard from mark since. you dont know why. due to your lack of information on him, it felt as if he disappeared into thin air. although only a week has past by, you felt concerned and somewhat worried for him. did something happen to him? what made him cut off his connection with you? its not like you did anything wrong.

out of pure desperation, you decided to skip school today. youve never skipped school before, and you felt so rebellious and bad. why did you do this? so you could go to dream high and meet mark in person. youve had enough of the sticky notes. you just wanted to see how he was like in real life, not having to think about it through notes.

with a little help from jaemin by texting him on instagram, you knew that mark’s class should be ending by 4pm, and you were there at 3:50 in the canteen where jaemin told you to wait. funny how the security guard lets a student from another school come in with a pass or anything.

you slowly start seeing groups of students going down the flight of stairs that lead to the canteen which had a path leading to the front gates. some eyes glanced at you as they notice someone who doesnt belong at their school, you couldnt care less though. your thoughts were only filled with mark. how he looked like, how he would carry himself. your anticipation was the only thing you felt.

you wore your headphones yet you could suddenly hear a lot of squealing and shouting. you look up, turning you attention to the stairs. a large group of girls crowding around another group of people, who you assumed to be guys. you scoffed, thinking about how there’s always that one group of good looking guys all girls seem to go crazy for. you watch as the group of guys push through the large crowd.

once you got a closer look, you tilt your head to the side. you slowly bring your headphone down from your ears and let them rest on your neck, getting intrigued by how the girls were getting so crazy, even more crazy than the ones from your school.

“its mark! he’s so cute!”

you widen your eyes as you heard the word ‘mark’. you stood up from your seat, peering your head up to find which one is the girl referring to. you only see two guys walking. one smiling sheepishly while the other kept a straight and cold face. just which one is mark?

suddenly, you felt an arm grabbing yours and pulling you back. you jump out of fear and turn around noticing it was jaemin. you calmed your breathing as you look at jaemin.

“meet mark under the block nearby. its too hectic here for you to talk to him.”

jaemin dragged you out of the school grounds and to a secluded block where only a few students where walking past and left you there. you were lost in confusion but decided to trust whatever jaemin was doing, sitting down at a random bench.

“jaemin told us to meet him here where is-”

“raven.”

“what?”

you immediately stood in front of the two guys you saw at the canteen as you notice a familiar face. you werent able to get a clear look at them before, but now you realise that you knew one of them. “jeno..” you look at a different direction a you tried avoiding his gaze, though you knew you couldnt, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

mark looks at the both of you, utterly confused as his attention shifts from you to jeno constantly. “this raven?” mark points at you, tilting his head. you nod slowly as your turn your head to face mark. you observed his body up and down. he was good looking, just like jeno.. yet his aura told you that he was way more outgoing and open than jeno.

“you look...”

everyone was silent.

you gulp in nervousness. “im busy. bye mark.” before jeno could go, mark pulled on his arm to bring him back to stand beside him, earning a glare from jeno. the one you could never forget. “stay. i know something happened. you were always quiet whenever we talked about this girl. and i also know you all kept something from me.”

you slowly turned to jeno. you could he was annoyed whenever he looked at you. you felt it through his eyes, and it was terrifying. jeno took a deep breath in, folding his arms and placing his weight on one leg.

“if you remember clearly, chenle told you that before we became friends with you, we had a fight and didnt talk to each other for a long time. we didnt tell you this, but it was her who caused it. she brought chaos into our group. everyone forgotten about it clearly, but i cant. after what she did.. i cant forgive her.”

you opened your mouth, wanting to reply but your words were somehow stuck in your throat. you didnt exactly know what to say or do in this awkward situation.

“it.. it was a long time ago jeno, please. my feelings for you were real, even if we werent meant to be. i dont know how many times you need me to say sorry.” you pleaded, biting your lip as you waited for jeno’s reaction.

jeno sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a huff of rustration. “then why did you leave? you left me stranded, and because of you, i almost left my friends becaused i lived in agony since i missed you so much. i almost pushed everyone away.” you shivered as jeno’s voice started to raise.

you also glanced at mark, who still kept his confused expression on his face. through his gaze never left you as you felt his eyes scanning you body up and down.

“you two used date?” mark asks. you nod in reply.

“we were kids. we didnt know about all this soulmate stuff. but now..”

“you know what? be together. im not going to leave my friends just because of my pent up grudge and feelings. i cant control fate either.”

years had now past since you met mark. it really was fate. the two of you became close in no time and now.. you were fianally married. you couldnt be more happy to be with mark. who you were destined to be really was made for you, and you only. and to think this all escalated due to a note you sent out in pure curiosity.

you still remember what happened with jeno after that day, despite the lack of interaction between you two, jeno was open enough to accept you as his friend again. you are now living a happy life with mark, and always being able to hang out with his group of friends. today was no different.

“haechan get the chilli sauce!” you hear mark shout as you smile widely, feeling his arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. having a barbeque was a great idea to celebrate jisung’s birthday.

you soon see haechan with the bottle of chilli sause, placing it on the table where everyone gathered around the table which had jisung’s birthday cake. “before we do anything with the cake, let me announce my wish.” jisung announces proudly. you raise an eyebrow. “you cant say you birthday wish out loud!” you scolded jisung, but everyone laughs.

“his wish is something we all know.” jeno says, winking playfully at you. you tilt your head in confusion when you suddenly feel mark’s arm leaving you waist. you look over to mark who was shoving his hand into his pocket as if to find something.

you were completely clueless when mark nods towards jisung, to show some kind of signal. “i wish for mark and raven to get married!” jisung shouts.

you gaped your mouth open in shock when mark pulls out a small box, opening it in front of you to show a ring. you cover your mouth in disbelief. “did you guys really-”

“please marry me, raven. my sticky note soulmate.” you hear everyone clapping s a tear of happiness drips from your cheek. you quickly wipe it away as you heard the nickname that mark gave you. “we wouldnt normally do this but it was jeno that suggested this.”

you look over to jeno who had a soft smile on his face as he nod his head. looking back at mark, you grin widely as more tears started flowing out. “of course ill marry you, you dork.”

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vulcan-highblood · 4 years

Text

(Blue) Spirited Away

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Pairing(s): Gen Chapter: 5/? Words: 3.5k

Summary: Prince Zuko wasn’t able to escape the Northern Water Tribe after the disastrous conclusion to the Siege of the North. However, Aang is more than happy to invite his old pal, the Blue Spirit, to join him and his friends on the first leg of their journey to the Earth Kingdom.

(An AU where Aang never learned the true identity of the Blue Spirit, Zuko is desperate, and Spirits enjoy interfering in the lives of mortals)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Read it on AO3

Chapter 5: Persuasion and Evasion

So things were really not going Zuko’s way. A somewhat cynical part of him wondered how that was any different from the usual. He’d been careful, of course, creeping around the back of the Waterbending Master’s house, straining his ears to try and make sure whatever window he chose to peek in through wouldn’t also be a window into the room where the Avatar and his hangers-on were deep in conversation.

And it had been working, too! He’d found Uncle!! That hadn’t even been the weird part, the weird part was when Uncle recognized him in his Blue Spirit getup. All right, all right, he should have expected that Uncle probably figured out early on why his dao swords needed regular sharpening and he might have spotted Zuko sneaking off before music night and put two and two together, but it still felt a little embarrassing to have his alter ego just casually ignored as Uncle looked up, spotted his mask, and instantly charged across what looked like a bedroom to wrap Zuko in a bear hug. This proved largely unsuccessful, since the window was a bit too small to fit Zuko’s shoulders, and definitely wasn't built for Uncle’s girth. Still, he was glad for the fumbling arm-hug because it meant he’d finally found Uncle!

“Uncle,” Zuko hissed, “We need to go!”

“Yes, we do,” Uncle agreed, “But this kind man has offered us a raft and enough supplies to get us to the Earth Kingdom port of Onsenzakura. We should wait here until nightfall.”

Zuko just stared blankly at Uncle for a long second, momentarily struck mute by the inane thing that Uncle Iroh just suggested. “The man you are staying with is a master waterbender!” he hissed, “He was coordinating the prisoners they took! He is not someone who’s going to just hand over an escape raft!” he added in a sharp whisper, fighting to keep his voice low and only mostly succeeding.

“Prince Zuko, we are of no value to these people, and I promised this man that I would leave peacefully. He recognized the wisdom in bidding farewell to the Dragon of the West, rather than trying to take me down.”

That didn’t even make sense, Uncle was an incredibly valuable prisoner! “Who wouldn’t want you as a prisoner?” Zuko demanded.

Uncle gave Zuko one of his sad I have tried to tell you this before looks, before answering. “I am a failure, prince Zuko, and the Fire Lord - your father - does not tolerate failure. I am worthless as a political prisoner, and am an army officer, not Navy, and thus have little relevant information to share regarding fleet movements.”

“But this was Zhao’s invasion!” Zuko protested. “Surely father wouldn’t blame you for this!”

“Were Admiral Zhao with us, I am sure he too would carry a portion of the blame,” Uncle answered simply. “But remember, Prince Zuko - after Ba Sing Se, this assault on the water tribes is my second failure. Ozai will not tolerate a third.”

“You’re wrong!” Zuko insisted hotly, unwilling to hear such a thing. If two failures were enough to ruin Uncle’s worth in the eyes of his father, how would the Fire Lord feel about Zuko’s own repeated failure to capture the Avatar? He refused to think about it. Father wanted him back. Wanted Uncle back. They didn’t need to rely on some barbarian to give them an escape route, they could flee on their own!

“Let’s just go now, Uncle!” Zuko urged, “I’m sure together we could-”

“Hey! You there!! Stop!”

Zuko froze, turning to look at a duo of blue-fur wearing barbarians, brandishing spears. This was really not his day.

“It’s the masked intruder!” the one shouted, which was probably obvious to the other two, but Zuko wasn’t going to waste valuable time criticising his choice to state the obvious. “Get him!”

“Master Pakku! The masked man!” the other yelled, and Zuko knew he had seconds to get clear before some real nasty bending went down. He ran straight for the trio, only to leap up, kick off of a window frame, and soar over the trio, heading back for the main street, mentally scolding himself for losing focus and allowing himself to be discovered.

Skidding into the main street, he drew up at the spear pointed in his direction. Agni curse him, he hadn’t expected backup so soon! He turned to run the other way, but the two from the alley had made it out, approaching him from the other direction.

Sighing internally at the mess he’d found himself in, Zuko drew his swords.

And then the Avatar was standing in front of him, babbling about whatever and dragging him over to “meet his friends” (precisely what Zuko had been hoping to avoid) and also stare down the master waterbender who was hiding Uncle in his bedroom.

After a few spirits-cursed minutes of frantically gesturing and resisting the urge to hit his head against something hard (or better yet, hit the Avatar’s head against something hard), they finally seemed to establish that Zuko was looking for Uncle. Hopefully this would convince the waterbending master to just let them go, now that he knew that Zuko knew Uncle Iroh’s whereabouts.

But apparently he hadn’t thought this plan through, either, because the next thing the master waterbender said was, “Well, you’d better come inside, then.”

Zuko didn’t have much of a choice after that, seeing as the Avatar immediately latched back onto his arm like he was afraid Zuko would run away again (not likely, unless the three city guards were willing to give him a head start). Sighing softly, Zuko resigned himself to following the Avatar’s entourage into the icy hut.

It was warm inside , and with Zuko’s parka still being somewhat soggy, the heat felt amazing. Part of him wanted to curl up and go to sleep the minute they stepped inside, and he had to mentally shake himself because this was a bad time to be thinking about sleep.

“Hey, Master Pakku!” the Avatar was saying in a voice that was far too cheerful, at least by Zuko’s estimation, “Do you have anything to write with?” he paused then, turning to Zuko with an exaggerated gasp. “You can write, can’t you?”

Zuko nodded. It didn’t seem fair to be insulted by such a question. After all, in some of the more far-flung villages of the Earth Kingdom, literacy wasn’t always considered as essential as putting food on the table, and scrolls could be incredibly difficult to come by. He felt a little insulted anyway, because, well, of course he could write!

Master Pakku simply sighed gustily. “I hope you know that precious commodities like ink and paper are not to be wasted on light matters.”

“They aren’t?” Aang looked surprised by this. “Why not?”

“There’s not many trees that we can cut down, and making paper by hand is a long process,” Boomerang boy answered.

“Well what do you use then?” Aang asked. “Slate and chalk?”

Master Pakku raised a skeptical eyebrow, gesturing expansively. “Oh yes, with all the varieties of stone we have around here, I’m sure sourcing something like that would be no trouble at all.”

“We use charcoal,” the water tribe brother explained, “and parchment.”

Ah yes, animal skins did seem to be quite the commodity around here, so that made sense to Zuko. Charcoal would serve dual purposes, too, and could be used as either fuel or writing tool. As the water tribes were known for an oral tradition rather than vast libraries, Zuko suspected that these writing tools were also fairly scarce, likely intended for trade with those outside the tribe and to learn the writing system outsiders used, rather than as a significant part of their education. Part of him was jealous, as he’d hated practicing his brushwork for hours on end when he’d been a kid. He’d never had a steady enough hand to impress his calligraphy teacher.

“Lucky for you,” Master Pakku shot a look of irritation in Zuko’s direction, “I happen to have some handy.” He started across the room, saw them all standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor and sighed. “Go ahead and have a seat,” he said, “I imagine this might take awhile.”

~~*~~

Masky seemed on edge, which was surprising to Aang. He still wasn’t sure why the guy had run away before, but hearing that he’d been looking for Zuko and his uncle made him curious. “So why are you looking for Zuko?” Aang asked, turning to fully look at Masky.

The pale-blue clad figure stiffened a little under his focused attention, like he wasn’t sure what to do with Aang’s stare. Finally, he shrugged. Which, to be fair, was about all he could do since the gesturing he’d done earlier hadn’t been clear enough to Aang, Sokka, or Katara.

“How do you even know about those guys?” Sokka demanded, leaning forward, a suspicious look on his face. Aang was always impressed by how quickly Sokka picked up on inconsistencies, even if he did have a somewhat annoying habit of refusing to acknowledge the mystical when it confronted him. Then again, maybe that was more about expressing irritation, since Sokka did seem to always end up with trouble whenever they were dealing with spirits. That made Aang start thinking about Yue, which made him sad. Masky, however, was already gesturing again.

He lifted his hand up over his eye and wiggled it again.

“Okay, Zuko,” Sokka acknowledged, since they’d apparently established this gesture already.

Masky made a few punching motions, a sort of sweeping hand gesture, and then a few more sharp striking motions. For a minute, Aang worried that he was trying to attack Sokka, except he sure wasn’t trying very hard.

“Punch?” Aang guessed. “You want to punch Zuko?”

Masky slapped an open palm to his forehead. He shook his head, made the ‘Zuko’ gesture again, then punched halfway with one hand, while his other hand moved beside it. When the first punch stopped halfway, the second hand kept going, splaying out the fingers.

“Uh,” Aang frowned.

“Firebending!” Sokka shouted, pointing a finger.

“Where?” Katara demanded, moving like she was about to start waterbending in the middle of Pakku’s house.

“No, that’s the gesture,” Sokka told her. “Right?” he asked Masky.

Masky nodded.

“Zuko. Firebending.” Sokka ticked off the two words on his fingers.

Masky tapped the cheeks of his mask with open palms, then did the punch-palm thing again.

“Cheek… bending?” Sokka guessed hesitantly.

Masky shook his head, puffed up and moved his shoulders like he was marching, then repeated the gesture, touching the sides of his face again. Then, he pointed at Aang.

“Me?” Aang asked. “Walking?”

Maky slapped his palm to his face again. If he kept that up, it was probably going to leave a bruise. He shook his head sharply, then wrapped a hand around his wrist and repeated the gesture with the other wrist. He pointed to Aang again, imitated nocking an arrow and drawing it back, pointed to himself, then clapped his open palms to the sides of his face again.

“Aang… bracelets, archer, mask, cheeks,” Sokka said thoughtfully. “Aang? Do you have bracelets?”

“No,” Aang answered, but Masky was already waving his hands to try and stop whatever they were saying, so apparently they were still on the wrong track.

He clapped his hands to his face twice.

“Cheeks.”

Masky shook his head.

“Face.”

Masky shook his head.

“Is it a thing?” Katara asked suddenly, “Or a person?”

Masky pointed at her and nodded.

“A thing?” Sokka repeated.

Masky shook his head.

“A person,” Aang said.

Masky pointed and nodded.

“Ok, a person with cheeks…” Sokka muttered, rubbing his chin as he thought.

Masky slapped an open palm to his face again. Zuko. Firebend. Cheeks. Firebend.

“Wait, were Cheeks and Zuko fighting?” Katara asked.

Masky nodded hard.

“Is cheeks one of us?” Aang asked, sweeping his arm to indicate himself, Sokka, and Katara.

Masky turned to him in a way that seemed to say he was running out of patience, which was impressive, since his face was still covered. Very slowly, as if he was gesturing to someone who was having a difficult time understanding, he gestured Firebend again.

“Oh, so cheeks is a firebender,” Aang said. “Zuko and another firebender were fighting…” he paused, thinking about that. “Why would Zuko fight another firebender?”

“He did chase down Zhao after the… uh… spirit oasis,” Katara said, stumbling over her words and glancing over at Sokka, a worried look on her face.

Masky had gone tense, pointing at Katara now, clapping his cheeks and then pointing again.

“Wait, is Cheeks Zhao?” Sokka asked, turning to Masky.

Masky nodded vigorously. He pointed to his own chest, made a “look” gesture. Zuko. Firebend. Zhao.

“You saw Zuko and Zhao fighting,” Sokka said.

Masky looked like he was ready to hug Sokka for a minute, nodding enthusiastically. It was around this time that Master Pakku returned to the main room from his bedroom, looking almost more irritated than he had when he’d left. “Parchment. Charcoal,” he said, depositing the materials in Masky’s lap and moving to another seat near the fire. “So you saw Zuko and Zhao fight,” he said. “That doesn’t explain how you came here.”

Masky picked up the charcoal and parchment, scribbling in tiny characters at the very top of the sheet. It took Aang a moment to realize why - Master Pakku had said that the supplies were valuable and limited. Masky was trying to show respect by using as little space as possible. That was nice of him! He kept writing for a few moments, then set the charcoal aside gently, looking around the room.

Sokka snatched the parchment from his hands, and for a minute it looked like Masky was going to lunge after it, but he pulled himself back, took a deep breath, and waited for Sokka to read his response aloud.

“I stowed away on a Fire Navy vessel -” Sokka stopped, turning to stare at Masky. “What, really? How’d you manage that?”

“Sokka, could you finish reading before you start asking more questions?” Katara demanded, craning her neck to try and see what Masky had written.

Sokka immediately jerked the parchment away, concealing the words. “I’m getting there!” he said. “Just hold on - ahem - I stowed away on a Fire Navy vessel because I heard the attack was being led by Zhao. Hold on, wait, how did you hear that?” he turned to stare at Masky.

Masky shrugged, then made an “I’m listening” gesture with one hand.

“Yeah, we’ll talk more about that later,” Sokka said, obviously dissatisfied with the answer. “Anyway. I have no love for Zhao and want to ruin his plans - same, buddy,” here Sokka lifted his eyes to grin at Masky, “So I followed him here. That doesn’t explain why you want Zuko and his uncle,” he pointed out.

Masky made a grabby gesture at the parchment, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sokka handed it over. “And tell me more about how you found out about the mission and stowed away on a Fire Navy vessel.”

The scribbling took a bit longer this time, and Aang could see that Masky had written little numbers down before certain parts of the writing. The parchment was handed back to Sokka, who continued his dramatic reading. “One, I want to know why Zhao tried to have Zuko killed - wait, he did what?”

Masky glanced between Sokka, Aang, and Katara, pointedly avoiding Master Pakku’s suspicious stare, which had yet to let up since the man had returned with the parchment. As he realized that the waterbending Master seemed more agitated than normal, Aang found himself hoping that everything was all right. He wasn’t sure why Master Pakku was so worried. Masky had helped him once before, and he’d come to help them this time, too! Master Pakku would see that for himself eventually, Aang was sure of it.

“Okay, we will definitely be circling back to attempted murder, but moving on - Two, Fire Nation Sailors like to spend shore leave in taverns. They drink a lot and talk too loudly. Three, Sometimes, drunk Fire Nation Sailors lose their uniforms. They don’t waste a lot of time looking for them, and rarely tell anyone what happened because they’d get in trouble. People don’t usually count the grunts on a large Fire Navy vessel. If you keep your armor on and head down, no one questions you. It can’t be that simple!” Sokka protested, looking up from the parchment.

In response, Masky simply shrugged as if to say, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

The amount of emoting he was capable of in a mask was actually really impressive, Aang wished he could communicate so well without his voice. “So why do you hate Zhao so much?” he asked. “Did he do something to you?”

For this, Masky just nodded, but he didn’t make a move to grab the parchment.

“Do you not want to talk about it?” Katara asked softly, seeing something that Aang must have missed.

Masky nodded again.

“Okay, well, I’d still like to know about this murder plot, especially considering Zuko was somehow not dead and managed to also find his way to the North Pole.” Sokka considered his own statement with a scowl. “How does he keep finding us, anyway?”

Masky shrugged a little, but reached for the parchment a moment later. Sokka handed it over.

~~*~~

Masky was hiding something. Well, okay, a lot of things, including his face. Which was… yeah. Not really something that made Sokka feel inclined to trust him. Plus, the guy acted like he’d been able to take out Fire Nation soldiers, steal their armor, stow away on a ship, and did it all just to come and mess up Zhao’s plans? Why? What could possibly motivate him to go to that extreme? Of course Sokka thought Zhao was a creep and he’d killed the moon, which put him on a whole new level of creep that Sokka hadn’t even realized existed, but still. This was weird. “No seriously though,” he said, “You did all this just to mess with Zhao?”

“Sokka!” Katara hissed, “He doesn’t want to talk about it!”

“But there have to be easier ways to mess with Zhao,” Sokka protested, “Why come all the way to the North Pole?”

Masky, who had been scribbling away at his paper, stopped, sighed, and started a new line beneath where he’d been writing. One he’d finished the second line, he went back to the first line. Once he’d finished writing, he handed the parchment back to Sokka.

Which was another thing. The way he wrote looked like someone who wasn’t accustomed to handling charcoal. Which, if he was from the Earth Kingdom, that made some sense, since they largely used brushwork. But his strokes were incredibly neat and even, almost calligraphic. That smacked of nobility to Sokka, and he couldn’t figure out why some noble from the Earth Kingdom would be chasing after Zhao, of all people! As he glanced at the parchment, though, a few answers fell into place.

“I heard he hired pirates to blow up Zuko’s ship.” Sokka stared at the words for a few seconds. “Wow, that sounds like overkill,” he managed after a moment. “How did Zuko survive something like that?”

Masky shrugged in answer, which was fair. Sokka couldn’t figure out how someone could survive that either. But he apparently had survived, and made it all the way to the North Pole, too. So he’d either gotten really lucky, or he’d somehow figured out Zhao’s plot in advance and faked his death. Considering Zuko’s record, Sokka was going to go with lucky, because the guy managed to stumble across them constantly. That had to be luck. As much as he hated to wish death on someone, he sort of wished that Zuko hadn’t made it out of the explosion unscathed. Maybe if he’d been off recovering somewhere…

…but Zuko hadn’t been the one to kill the moon, and he’d gone after Zhao while his uncle had gone after all the other fire benders. They hadn’t seemed like they were fighting with Zhao, at least. Which made sense, if Zhao really had been trying to assassinate the angry ponytail guy.

“Is that all?” Katara asked, leaning over to look at the parchment, reminding Sokka that he’d lost track of what he was supposed to be doing.

“I’m getting to it!” Sokka glanced back down at the parchment. Oh. He swallowed hard, then read the second sentence. “Zhao… destroyed my home. And… separated me from the only family I had left.” He looked up at Masky, then read the last line he’d written. “That’s why I broke into his stronghold to free the Avatar, and it’s why I followed him here. I wanted revenge.”

#blue spirited away #zuko #blue spirit #atla #blue spirit fic

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fortheloveoffanfic · 5 years

Text

Think

Chapter 1

John, with the king's approval (and annoyance), had invited Y/n to stay at the Bowery and she had been there for almost a month now, helping them strategize, regroup and recover. Since the shootout things had been suspiciously quiet on the High Table’s end, no doubt they were planning too. Information was scarce too, it was if all their sources were scared to talk.

It was late, nearing midnight, and John was walking Y/n back to her room. As usual, the corridors were dark and moisture clung to walls and ceiling, a result of outdated plumbing. She hated this place, still Y/n had stuck it out for as long as she could, for John. As they approached her ‘room’, She broke the silence, “Sophia called today.” A little thrown that she felt the need to tell him this, John just stared it her. Until she explained, “She wanted to let me know that my stuff got here.”

“Oh.” Did that mean she was leaving? The thought of her being gone was a little upsetting. Without any competition, Y/n was the closest thing he had to a friend there. He had been working with everyone there because they had a common goal, a common enemy. But Y/n, she was different, he enjoyed her company, her sarcasm and dry humor. He liked her in the purest sense of the word. “Does that mean you’re leaving soon?”

“Well, yeah. Its all there, at my place in Upper East.” Slowly, the familiar, worn wooden door came into view. As they got closer, he noticed that she was wringing her hands together. Now actually standing at the door, John was going to bid her goodnight and walk away, but Y/n looked as if she wanted to say something. Chewing on her bottom lip, she actually seemed nervous- a feat he didn’t think she was capable of. Fearless, over-confident and all round badass? Yes. Nervous and shy? Not a chance. “I was just thinking, that maybe you’d want to come with me. You don’t have to, obviously. But if you want a bigger bed and nice coffee, you’re welcome to stay with me.” Shaking her head, “It’s your choice though.”

Leaving now might not have been the best idea considering his situation and the fact that they still had lots to figure out. Then again, this was an opportunity where he could do that and actually have a shower without the water smelling like rust. “Sure, why not?”

John smiled and Y/n returned it gladly with a private smile of her own. “Awesome. We’ll leave tomorrow, around ten.” He agreed and they parted ways for the night.

After about forty five minutes of driving thought pesky New York traffic, their cab came to a slow turn into the compound housing a collection of tall white structures, reflecting the peak of modern-contemporary architecture, with large planes of glass divided by strong concrete walls. The complex was gated, separated from the rest of the city and the driver dropped them off at the glass automated sliding doors of one of the buildings.

Once inside, Y/n paused to address a middle aged man behind the counter and then used a key card to access the elevator. The ride to the twenty-first floor was passed with comfortable silence and when the shiny elevator doors opened, it was to a set of large white double doors with silver handles which led foyer.

The first doorway to the left opened to an expansive living room. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows and the marble floors were so glossy that they almost seemed reflective. Grey marble walls featuring dark veins perfectly complimented white and pale grey designer furniture. Her place was undoubtedly huge, and they had only explored a fraction of it so far.

“You live here alone?” John looked around at the room. There was a large television mounted to the wall, below it an open fireplace installed into the wall. To the very back of the room was a set of stairs that he figured took one to the second floor. Around them, on end tables and chests lining the wall were expensive looking trinkets from around the world as well as a few pieces of artwork. No family pictures though. Nothing personal that would make the place identifiably hers.

Y/n waved her hand, encouraging John to follow her, “Used too, for a bit. My parents leased it for me when I started college. After I did my first job, I bought it.” Parents? College? There was so much more to her that didn’t meet the eye.

“You went to college? I thought you trained under the Director.” He questioned as walked around, Y/n pointing out different rooms.

“I did. But its complicated.” Next, they toured the upstairs next, where she showed him three different guest rooms, informing him that he could choose whichever he wanted.

“We have time.” John returned plainly. Coming to a sudden stop, Y/n turned to regard him, eyebrows raised. For a second he thought that she was mad that he asked, but then the corner of her lips twitched into a smirk.

It took a couple minutes of thinking, figuring out which bits of her life were really relevant, before she spoke again, “College was more of a condition than it was an option. I went because I had to.”

“How did you end up in the program?”

They circled back to the start white kitchen, “I went to a boarding school and I was into a lot of things, including ballet and martial arts. I met the Director when I was fifteen.” Abruptly, she turned away, going to the cabinet to retrieve a half filled bottle of Jack. “Want one?” She held up the bottle and two glasses, an unspoken signal that she was done talking about her life. “Or are you against celebratory day drinking?”

“Not particularly.” John smirked and Y/n poured him a drink and slid it across the island, “What are we celebrating?”

Looking upwards, she feigned dramatic thoughtfulness then held out her glass, “To new, but possibly temporary roommates and superior living quarters!” They clinked their glasses together in a toast.

Later that evening, they parted ways, John Y/n in watching television in the living room to go get settled into on of the spare rooms. Like the other guest rooms she had showed him, it was elegantly minimal, maintain the same air of contemporary luxury rest of the condo. A king-sized bed dominated the room, adorned simply with white Egyptian cotton sheets and a stormy grey comforter. At the foot of the bed, there was a white ottoman and against the wall, a wide dresser. Along with an ensuite bathroom following the same theme of the bedroom, was a walk in closet fit for one.

After a hot shower, he laid in bed, trying to will himself to sleep.

It was past midnight and Y/n couldn’t keep her eyes closed for more than a couple seconds. After about an hour of tossing and turning, she decided that maybe a nightcap- or rather, another nightcap, would help her fall asleep faster. Shaking the sheets off, Y/n got out of the bed, slipped a black silk robe on over her skimpy nightie, heading for the kitchen.

Equipped with a glass of wine, Y/n sat herself on one of the loveseats at the corner, pulling her legs to her chest as she admired the view of the city.“Couldn’t sleep?”

Y/n almost jumped at the sound of John’s voice coming from behind her. Placing the glass on the low table, “Nope.” Patting the spot next to her, Y/n invited him over. John sank down next to her, there was about six inches of space between him and her eyes swept his body. The arms of his t-shirt were tight around his biceps and she found herself tempted to squeeze them. And how were thighs allowed to look so good?

Neither of them spoke for a while, but when they did, John went first. Earlier, she had seemed reluctant to talk about her life, yet the nagging desire to know her better hadn’t left him. Since they had met, she was a mystery, not giving out more than necessary, unless she was ‘giving out’ violence. Maybe, just maybe, if he opened up to her, she would do the same. “I was an orphan.” He said simply, not really knowing how to being. Heart to heart conversations were never his strong point, but a man could try.

Y/n’s head snapped in John direction, a thrown by the sudden admittance that sounded more like a confession. “I’m.....sorry?” They had known each other for a few months now, still Y/n felt that something like that wasn’t just something you told someone.

“That’s how I ended up training with the Ruska Roma.” As Y/n listened, her expression softened and she found herself feeling bad for him. He told her little stories about his childhood and she realized that he never had a choice, from the minute they took him in, who he was became pre-determined, chosen by strangers. No innocence. No option to be anything but fighter.

“Why did you join the Marines?” She remembered when it had come up casually about a month ago.

John just shrugged, not really knowing how to explain, “It felt right. I was already a solider of sorts, so made sense.”

Frowning, Y/n tentatively placed her hand on his thigh, right above his knee, shifting so her whole body was facing him, “I’m so sorry.” The words would change none of it, but at least he might know that she cared. “You shouldn’t have had to grow up like that. No child should.” Though he was almost twice her age, in that moment, if it were possible, she would go back and change things for him. No one deserved to grow up like that. No one deserved any of what he had gone through. “Its not fair. You had no one, not really. Not until you met Helen and now she’s....”

“Gone.” He finished lowly. John placed his larger hand on top of Y/n’s and she smiled sympathetically. “The past can’t be changed. And I don’t think I would change it.”

That got her, “Why not?” Neither of them had noticed, but they had grown closer, the space between them slowly closing.

“Because, a lot of it was bad, but some of it was great.” So much wrong had turned him into the man he was. But there were some moments he wouldn’t trade for anything. Travelling around the world. Falling in love with Helen. And most recently, meeting Y/n. He didn’t need to say it though, it was probably written on his face.

John’s hand travelled to Y/n’s bare leg. Her skin was cool. Involuntarily, Y/n leaned in closer. They faces barely an inch apart. She could see the tiniest flecks of grey in his trimmed scruff and John could smell the wine on her breath. He wanted to taste it. Y/n’s breath hitched in her throat and just as their lips were about to touch, she pulled away, blinking rapidly, as if she were just waking herself up. Standing suddenly, “It’s late. I should go to bed.” Just before she re-enter the apartment, Y/n spared him a hurried goodnight, leaving him on the balcony, confused.

#John Wick #john wick x reader #john wick chapter 3 #john wick chapter three #john wick fanfic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Keanu Reeves #Keanu Reeves x Reader #Keanu Reeves fanfic #Reader insert #x reader

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thedailyscourge · 4 years

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Preface

Once upon a time in the town called Brookland there lived a young(ish) squire who was nearly finished with his er… squiredom! BUT LO!, there was in those days a great Scourge upon the town and in the greater realm of New Pork to which the town belonged, and beyond that, in the Divided Realms of Amen!-ia (DRA) and beyond that, well there were some kingdoms or something but no one in Amen!-ia really cared about what was beyond that anyway.

The squire was betrothed to a young(ish) lady known throughout the land for her quick wit and questionable taste in textiles embedded with colorful squiggles. The Lady was from The Land of Angles named that by the people who lived there (who were not angels by the way) which made it sound nice and it was nice but also smoggy and full of carriage traffic. Anywho, the Squire and the Lady loved each other very much and they were going to get married and form a family band and tour the countryside… etc., etc.

Where was I? Oh yes, the Scourge! The Scourge loomed over the land and threatened to cause death and destruction to 2% of the general population which doesn’t sound like a lot but it was a lot because there were over two and a half million people in the town of Brookland. Now, the Squire just happened to be in a very specific type of apprenticeship called a “Tiny Human Plague Squiredom” in which he was paid very little but was taught by an aging band of knights how to protect the tiny humans from a variety of plagues. The Scourge however was a brand new type of plague and none of the knights throughout the Divided Realms knew quite how to fight it. In fact, they were barely able to test for it because the tests were about as rare as toilet paper which as you might imagine was very hard to find in those days. That was a problem because the Scourge was spreading quickly. So quickly in fact that the Governor of New Pork told everyone they couldn’t leave their houses anymore except for emergencies and to buy cocktails to go from their local taverns but only if they also bought food at the same time because that makes sense. Everyone in Brookland and New Pork felt very anxious and sad. They could no longer meet in groups bigger than 10 people and had to use electric Windows and Apples to see each other's faces and talk (all the cool people used Apples). Meanwhile, some very smart knights at the Plague Control Place (PCP) and the World Health Assessment Team (WHAT) were working very hard to figure out a plan to fight the Scourge. Unfortunately, those very smart knights had to take orders from the Emperor.

The Emperor of the Divided Realms of Amen!-ia was a former court jester and wasn’t very bright but he won the election to be Emperor because he was a racist. But also because he fooled a lot of well meaning folks. This Emperor famously was orange and had no clothes. He also liked to send out little angry messages by carrier pigeon to anyone who would listen to him, often as he was pooping. This was not at all in the job description of an emperor, this is just something he liked to do while he was supposed to be working.

The Emperor was one of the people most responsible for protecting the humans in the Divided Realms from the Scourge. However, it took him a very long time to care at all about the Scourge as it did not affect him personally and the Emperor was born without a heart. He did eventually react to the Scourge but only when it started to affect the Fish Markets which he cared very much about.

An abbreviated timeline of the Emperor’s comments about the Scourge:

Day 10 of the 2nd month: “Now, the Scourge that we’re talking about having to do — you know, a lot of people think that goes away in the 4th month with the heat — as the heat comes in. Typically, that will go away in the 4th month. We’re in great shape though. We have 12 cases — 11 cases, and many of them are in good shape now.”

Day 14 of the 2nd month: “There’s a theory that, in the 4th month, when it gets warm — historically, that has been able to kill the Scourge. So we don’t know yet; we’re not sure yet. But that’s around the corner.”

Day 24 of the 2nd month: “The Scourge is very much under control in the DRA. We are in contact with everyone and all relevant kingdoms. PCP & World Health have been working hard and very smart. Fish Market starting to look very good to me!”

Day 27 of the 2nd month: “It’s going to disappear. One day — it’s like a miracle — it will disappear.”

Day 7 of the 3rd month: “No, I’m not concerned at all. No, we’ve done a great job with it.”

Day 10 of the 3rd month: “And we’re prepared, and we’re doing a great job with it. And it will go away. Just stay calm. It will go away.”

On Day 11 of the 3rd month the World Health Assessment Team declared the Scourge a pandemic.

Meanwhile in Brookland, the Squire continued to train and work at two castles across the road from each other: Brookland’s Best Castle and Jester’s Court Castle. These castles were filled with wonderful people who were training and preparing to fight the Scourge. However, like many castles around the Divided Realms, they were worried that while fighting the Scourge, they would run out of armor. You see, their armor was such that it needed to be thrown away after every dangerous encounter (I know, not a great system). They were also worried that they were going to run out of experimental weapons to fight the Scourge. Each day, the Squire received a scroll in his mailbox detailing the amount of weapons left in Brookland’s Best Castle. The scrolls were very sad. Next to the name of every weapon it said “back order in place” and it showed that the supply of weapons was dwindling as more and more people came to the castle seeking help to fight off the Scourge.

All around the Divided Realms of Amen!-ia the story was the same. The knights were running desperately low on armor. In fact, many of them started a thing called a “hashtag” where they tied a little tag of paper to carrier pigeons' legs and sent them to their friends and even random people. On the tag was written: #Barter4Armor! And many town crier’s heard about it and started...er crying.

Through all of this, the Emperor remained unmoved except for being secretly scared about how the damage done to the Fish Markets by this Scourge business was going to hurt his bid for re-election. The knights from around the country were like, “hey, did you even read our clever hashtag? We need armor!”. But the Emperor ignored them and told the people every day from the balcony in his palace that everything was fine even though he really shouldn’t have been going out to address the people from the balcony because everyone agreed he was rather bad at it. One time he was on the balcony, a town crier asked him “What do you say to Amen!-ians who are scared?” and he responded, “I say that you’re a terrible town crier, that’s what I say”.

Although the Emperor had the power to order many of the blacksmiths and foundries around the Divided Realms to make armor for the knights, he decided not to which made no sense to anyone. Some of the blacksmiths and foundries even started to make armor out of the kindness of their hearts for the knights. But it wasn’t enough. And it would never be enough unless the Emperor decided to stop worrying about the Fish Markets and help the knights.

So where does that leave us? Well, the handsome, young(ish) Squire (did I mention he was handsome?) saw that all of these problems were going to reach a pinnacle around the start of the 4th month of the year, at the same time as he would be starting his very last official month of on the job training with the knights. In fact, for a variety of reasons, the Squire would be pretty much autonomous during that month so it was extra troubling that it appeared all chaos was about to break loose at that exact time.

BUT HARKEN! What is that coming on the wings of a crisp gale at dawn?! The miraculous 4TH MONTH! Yes, the 4th month of which the Emperor spoke so fondly. A MIRACLE he said. Everything would magically go away he said! What joy!!! Surely this whole Scourge business will come to an end this month. Surely, it could not get worse! We are saved! We must only wait for the heat.

Here, we should make one final note: The Squire was not scared. But he was about to get very serious.

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creepingsharia · 5 years

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Dem Senator Kirsten Gillibrand fires Muslim aide after Politico investigates sexual harassment claims

Source: Former Gillibrand aide resigned in protest over handling of sex harassment claims – POLITICO h/t FPM

Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (D-N.Y.), one of the most outspoken advocates of the #MeToo movement who has made fighting sexual misconduct a centerpiece of her presidential campaign, spent last summer pressing legislators to update Congress’ “broken” system of handling sexual harassment.

At the same time, a mid-20s female aide to Gillibrand resigned in protest over the handling of her sexual harassment complaint by Gillibrand‘s office, and criticized the senator for failing to abide by her own public standards.

In July, the female staffer alleged one of Gillibrand’s closest aides — who was a decade her senior and married — repeatedly made unwelcome advances after the senator had told him he would be promoted to a supervisory role over her. She also said the male aide regularly made crude, misogynistic remarks in the office about his female colleagues and potential female hires.

Less than three weeks after reporting the alleged harassment and subsequently claiming that the man retaliated against her for doing so, the woman told chief of staff Jess Fassler that she was resigning because of the office’s handling of the matter. She did not have another job lined up.

The woman was granted anonymity because she fears retaliation and damage to her future professional prospects.

“I have offered my resignation because of how poorly the investigation and post-investigation was handled,” the woman wrote to Gillibrand in a letter sent on her final day to the senator’s personal email account. Copied were general counsel Keith Castaldo and Fassler, who is now managing the senator’s presidential bid.

“I trusted and leaned on this statement that you made: ‘You need to draw a line in the sand and say none of it is O.K. None of it is acceptable.’ Your office chose to go against your public belief that women shouldn’t accept sexual harassment in any form and portrayed my experience as a misinterpretation instead of what it actually was: harassment and ultimately, intimidation,” the woman wrote.

The senator and her staff never responded to the letter.

…

Since she left last summer, the woman has been doing part-time contract work. The male aide, Abbas Malik, kept his job.

Two weeks ago, however, POLITICO presented the office with its own findings of additional allegations of inappropriate workplace conduct by Malik. Among the claims were that he made a “joke” about rape to a female colleague — a person whom the office had failed to contact last summer despite repeated urgings by Malik’s accuser to reach out to the person.

Gillibrand’s office opened a new investigation and dismissed Malik last week. Malik did not respond to requests for comment.

…

Malik had spent years by Gillibrand’s side as her driver — the senator officiated at his wedding — while the woman was a more recent hire and had significantly less stature in the office. He was accused not of physical harassment but of making unwanted advances and using demeaning language — behavior that can be easier to downplay and can require a higher level of diligence to get to the bottom of.

Gillibrand’s advisers said they took the woman’s claims seriously, consulted with Senate employment lawyers for guidance and punished Malik at the time for what they could substantiate. But after “a full and thorough investigation into the evidence, including multiple interviews with current employees who could have witnessed this behavior, the office concluded that the allegations did not meet the standard of sexual harassment,” the office said of its initial internal investigation.

That inquiry, however, left out key former staffers. The aides who led it — deputy chief of staff Anne Bradley and Castaldo — did not contact two former employees whom the woman said could corroborate and add to her allegations of inappropriate workplace conduct. Gillibrand’s office interviewed only current employees.

“Anyone doing a thorough investigation would contact any witness that had or was likely to have relevant information, particularly when there is a hostile working environment alleged,” said Les Alderman, an attorney who specializes in sexual harassment in the workplace and represented an alleged victim in a case against former Rep. Blake Farenthold (R-Texas) that garnered national attention last year. “The idea that an employer is somehow restricted from contacting former employees who could shed light on the situation is laughable.”

POLITICO reached out to more than 20 former Gillibrand staffers to see if there was a pattern of behavior by Malik, including the two aides the woman specifically asked the office to contact.

One of those two former staffers said Malik often called her fat and unattractive to her face and made light of sexual abuse. She recalled one instance in which Malik remarked that a particular woman they were talking about “couldn’t get laid unless she was raped.” The person did not report that behavior at the time but now says she wishes she had.

Two more staffers who worked for Gillibrand said the woman’s claims of Malik’s inappropriate workplace behavior matched their own experiences. They said Malik regularly made misogynistic jokes, frequently appraised what they wore, disparaged the looks of other female staffers and rated the attractiveness of women who came in for interviews.

The office also dispensed with the allegations of Malik‘s retaliation without informing the woman of its conclusions or any disciplinary action.

Gillibrand’s office acknowledged it found evidence that Malik had made unspecified inappropriate comments and revoked his expected promotion, which would have come with a raise. It also moved his desk and gave him a final warning. This was not the first time the senator’s top aides dealt with an allegation of bad behavior by Malik: According to a firsthand witness of an incident in 2015, Malik confronted a fellow aide in the office. He got in the man’s face, pushed his desk and threatened to “fucking” hurt him, the witness said, describing the confrontation as “violent.”

But Fassler and Bradley told the woman that her claim of inappropriate advances was a case of “misinterpretation” and too much of a “he said, she said” to warrant Malik‘s dismissal, according to contemporaneous notes taken by the woman.

The office did not deny those terms were used but disputed that characterization of the investigation. “This case was never viewed as ‘he said, she said.’ Upon conclusion of the full and thorough investigation, it was determined that the evidence revealed employee misconduct that, while inappropriate, did not constitute sexual harassment,” the office said.

“When I had the courage to speak up about my harasser, I was belittled by her office and treated like an inconvenience,” the woman said of Gillibrand in an interview. “She kept a harasser on her staff until it proved politically untenable for her to do so.”

…

Malik became Gillibrand’s driver in 2011 after serving two tours in the Iraq War. He became such a constant presence in Gillibrand’s life — he had a set of keys to her home and often drove her children to school with her — that some staffers dubbed him “the keeper of her purse.” The office changed his title to “military adviser” in 2015 despite his responsibilities remaining largely the same.

Though she said she was put off by Malik’s comments about other female aides, the woman said her dealings with him had been generally cordial. But that changed when Gillibrand told him on July 10, 2018, that she wanted him to direct advance work for her future trips. All the details of the new job hadn’t been settled, but Abbas told the woman that he would be “in charge” of her position, she said.

“I have treated [A]bbas the same the entire year I have worked here,” the woman wrote in a detailed timeline of events that she later sent to Bradley, the deputy chief of staff. “It wasn’t until after this ‘promotion’ that he decided to hit on me.”

According to that timeline and documentation sent to Gillibrand’s office at the time, the alleged harassment started almost immediately after word of the planned promotion, with increasingly aggressive advances. In one late-night text message, Malik told her he now understood the meaning of the clown emoji — it meant “down to clown,” an innuendo for having sex from the movie “Blockers,” he elaborated the next morning.

On one day alone, July 13, she said Malik made four unwanted advances, which were all rebuffed. The first occurred alone in the office early in the morning when Malik told the woman he had a secret for her: Her boss had just quit.

“Ugh I shouldn’t have told you. You are totally going to tell people,” he said, according to her notes. “Why do I love you! I should hate you!”

After Malik prodded her for a secret of her own, she said Malik walked up to her desk and asked, “If we had met in a bar would it have happened for us?”

And at a birthday party for another staffer that evening, Malik told her privately that “I thought by debrief you meant you were hitting on me,” referencing an earlier text message.

She asked him if he was kidding. “No, I’m not kidding,” he responded. “[O]h wow ok no I was absolutely not hitting on you,” she replied, according to her timeline. He pressed two more times, prompting the woman to chide him in a text: “You’re married!!” He still sent a string of flirtatious texts later, including one with a clown emoji.

The woman said she tried to stay away from Malik the following week. But he began complaining that she was being mean to him because of his expected promotion, and said that he would give her the silent treatment until she apologized. “This seriously was so upsetting to me because I was not upset about that. I was upset with him sexually harassing me and he is trying to create his own narrative,” she wrote in her timeline.

On July 25, the woman emailed Bradley her detailed recollection of events, which she had written over the previous week. In addition to the advances, the woman claimed that Malik “said derogatory and inappropriate things about women since I started here.” She alleged that Malik called a female colleague “fat” and “ugly,” would rate the appearance of potential hires, and told colleagues that the office’s new fellow — essentially a young female intern — “wanted him.”

There’s more, but you get the idea. The #MeToo movement seems to end with Muslim misogyny.

#Creeping Sharia #islam #law #Legal #Life #Media #Muslim #New York #News #NYC #Politics #Random #Religion #Sharia #travel

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turtle-paced · 5 years

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Revisiting Chapters: Catelyn V, ASoS

Ironically, this revisit of a chapter about delays travelling to a wedding was delayed because I was travelling to a wedding.

The story so far…

Someone’s gotta marry into the Freys. Robb’s decided that it’s going to be Edmure. Now it’s time to go to the wedding.

Those Left Behind

The chapter begins with Robb’s parting from Jeyne. The very fact that the rule of three is in place here should be yet another warning to the readers that bad things are going to happen, especially highlighted as the opening line of the chapter:

Robb bid farewell to his young queen thrice.

Not incidentally, it’s their final parting.

Each goodbye is steadily less publicly appropriate, and each highlights the different public and private aspects of their characters. There’s a formal farewell in the godswood, between king and queen. Then Jeyne and Robb say goodbye as husband and wife at the Riverrun portcullis, with what’s described as “a long embrace and a longer kiss.” Finally, though, we see how young Jeyne and Robb really are when Jeyne rides hard out of Riverrun to catch up because she just can’t let Robb go, while Robb gets cranky at the need to console her (and having to do so in front of his army; it’s embarrassing in a very teenage way). At the last, these two are teenagers trying so very hard to be adults. They don’t always succeed.

Jeyne was left at Riverrun for her own protection, at Catelyn’s insistence. Unlike the show, where Robb brought his wife to the Twins and is posthumously called stupid for trusting the Freys, we see here that Catelyn (with Robb’s ultimate acknowledgement that she’s correct and sensible to do so) does not trust the Freys. Though she tells Robb that she doesn’t want him to be in the position of having to endure Walder’s direct insults to Jeyne, what she has in mind is different:

Her lord father had never trusted Walder Frey after the Trident, and she was ever mindful of that. Queen Jeyne would be safest behind the high, strong walls of Riverrun, with the Blackfish to protect her.

That would indicate to us that Catelyn’s got serious fears about Jeyne’s physical safety, and serious fears that any threats to that might come from the Freys. By implication and in combination with Catelyn’s remaining chapters, it shows us the strength of guest right in Westeros. Guest right is so strong that trusting it against people you think might kill your daughter-in-law is reasonable.

There’s also the other reason to leave Jeyne and her brother Rollam (Robb’s squire) behind: bringing them along would be tactless. The Starks are trying not to be assholes, here. They don’t want to rub it in that the Freys lost out when Robb married Jeyne.

Nevertheless, the decision to leave the Westerlings behind is hard on Jeyne and Rollam; from the Twins Robb is expecting to begin a campaign in the North. Jeyne and Robb are looking at an extended separation, while Rollam’s going to miss out on some serious experience.

This departure means that there must also be a plan to hold the Riverlands in the absence of Robb’s main force. This is now Brynden Tully’s responsibility (Robb’s newly-created Warden of the Southern Marches). Catelyn believes that if anyone can hold the Trident, her uncle can. Robb’s also left behind most of the Riverlords who swore to him.

And, at last, Catelyn herself is to be left behind. Not in her childhood home of Riverrun, but in Seagard, a virtual prisoner, away from anything she considers home and anyone she considers family.

After The Wedding

Perhaps this chapter’s foremost sting to the rereader is in knowing a) how most of the plans here will come to nothing, and b) just how cruel the Freys are being (okay, just Lothar this chapter, but it still counts).

“Queen Jeyne has a loving heart,” Lame Lothar Frey said to Catelyn. “Not unlike my own sisters. Why, I would wager a guess that even now Roslin is dancing around the Twins chanting ‘Lady Tully, Lady Tully, Lady Roslin Tully. By the morrow she’ll be holding swatches of Riverrun red-and-blue to her cheek to picture how she’ll look in her bride’s cloak.”

Lothar gave a good-natured laugh. “Let us pray your marriage ends as happily [as the Stone Mill], my lord.”

When you know that Lothar knows the plans, and that Roslin did not, this is just…so dickish. Contrast the Starks’ behaviour with the Freys. This is a cruel fucking joke.

But back to what Robb is actually planning to do. Though he’s left most of the Riverlords behind, he’s taken his Northern bannermen to retake their homes. He spends the first half the chapter planning offscreen, a plan which is ultimately revealed later. He gives his first hint as his army makes their decision to go to the Twins via Sevenstreams and Hag’s Mire (due to the bridges across the Blue Fork being washed out). His discussion of his possible heir I’ll talk about in a second. Near the end of the chapter, however, someone shows up from all the way back in ACoK. It’s the captain of the Myraham, the ship Theon took to Pyke. And he’s got news. Balon Greyjoy is dead, and Euron is back.

This means big changes for the Ironborn situation after the army leaves the wedding. Robb sets it out well, so let’s just go long quote.

“Euron Greyjoy is no man’s notion of a king, if half of what Theon said of him was true. Theon is the rightful heir, unless he’s dead…but Victarion commands the Iron Fleet. I can’t believe he would remain at Moat Cailin while Euron Crow’s Eye holds the Seastone Chair. He has to go back.”

“There’s a daughter as well,” Galbart Glover reminded him. “The one who holds Deepwood Motte, and Robett’s wife and child.”

“If she stays at Deepwood Motte that’s all she can hope to hold. What’s true for the brothers is even more true for her. She will need to sail home to oust Euron and press her own claim.”

In short, the leadership vacuum on Pyke is going to suck away all the leadership the Ironborn have on campaign. ‘Disorganised’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. Neither, from Robb’s perspective, does ‘opportunity’. It’s time for him to explicate his plan a bit better. He assigns people to find Howland Reed in the Neck, so that they can make the approach to Moat Cailin a bit differently, so that they’re not fighting the odds by trying to take the Moat from the south. Again, let’s just take Robb’s explanation, an even longer quote.

“But if we can attack from the north and west simultaneously, and take the ironmen in the rear while they are beating off what they think is my main thrust up the causeway, then we have a chance. Once I link up with Lord Bolton and the Freys, I will have more than twelve thousand men. I mean to divide them into three battles and start up the causeway a half-day apart. If the Greyjoys have eyes south of the Neck, they will see my whole strength rushing headlong at Moat Cailin.

“Roose Bolton will have the rearguard, while I command the centre. Greatjon, you shall lead the van against Moat Cailin. Your attack must be so fierce that the ironborn have no leisure to wonder if anyone is creeping down on them from the north.”

[…]

“There are ways through the Neck that are not on any map, Uncle. Ways known only to the crannogmen - narrow trails between the bogs, and wet roads through the reeds that only boats can follow.” He turned to his two messengers. “Tell Howland Reed that he is to send guides to me, two days after I have started up the causeway. To the centre battle, where my own standard flies. Three hosts will leave the Twins, but only two will reach Moat Cailin. Mine own battle will melt away into the Neck, to reemerge on the Fever. If we move swiftly once my uncle’s wed, we can all be in position by year’s end.”

Such a detailed outline has to go wrong somewhere. Rule of storytelling. This plan gives the reader hope that Robb will be successful. As Dacey Mormont’s pointed out, Robb’s never lost a battle.

Rereading, you know he never will. He won’t even get to this battle. He won’t become the first to take Moat Cailin from (essentially) the south. This is the last glimpse of hope for Robb, disguised as a plan going forward.

Drowned in Grief

Even as the other characters discuss what’s going to happen after the wedding, Catelyn looks forward and sees only despair. This chapter shows us just how little she has left and how those losses are affecting her relationships with the people she does have, all the more apparent as she retraces her steps amongst dying trees, recent battlefields, and the ruins of a kingdom, from Riverrun to Winterfell. The scenery and weather are important aspects of this chapter. The Oldstones scenery I’ll discuss in a bit, but the battlefields Catelyn’s passing remind her not only of the battles fought there, but provide a relevant, grim background to Catelyn’s thoughts of the people who’ve gone and died on her (or apparently died on her). In terms of weather, it rains all chapter, at first lightly, but increasing to floods.

If, in plot terms, there are options generated this chapter, our PoV character sees only one grim path to walk.

Ahead awaited Edmure’s bride and Robb’s next battle…and for me, two dead sons, an empty bed, and a castle full of ghosts.

This prompts Catelyn to think on one of the very few, faint hopes she has left - that Brienne will succeed in her mission to bring Sansa and Arya back. Maege and Dacey Mormont sympathise with her. Dacey in particular is optimistic, given Robb’s track record of winning battles, but Catelyn’s really not in a good way. Being strong for Robb is ever more of an effort, and the consequences to her own psyche if she slips look worse.

I must be stronger, she told herself. I must be strong for Robb. If I despair, my grief will consume me.

Later in the chapter we see a rerun of this interaction, again with Catelyn not being able to see the ever-so-slightly brighter side that Maege and Dacey can. This second time, however, Maege, Dacey and Catelyn get to discussing the merits of taking up arms. The Mormont women are not “proper ladies,” historically having taken up arms to help defend their island against Ironborn raiding. They mention Lynesse Mormont, who was very much not suited to the martial traditions of her husband’s female relations.

Try as she might, though, she cannot chase away the thoughts that Robb’s lost everything but the battles, and they have next to no chance “caught between Lannister and Greyjoy.” She dares not dwell on that issue. When Catelyn compares herself to the Mormont women, she blames herself for her family’s woes.

Had there been too much of Lynesse Hightower in her after all, and too little of the Starks? Would that I had known how to wield an axe, perhaps I might have been able to protect them better.

In her mind, it’s all down to her own frailty.

Catelyn’s relationship with Edmure is also strained. This time, she’s got no sympathy for Edmure’s complaining about marriage. Specifically, his concern that Roslin might not be pretty.

“Cersei Lannister is comely,” she said sharply. “You’d be wiser to pray that Roslin is strong and healthy, with a good head and a loyal heart.”

As she says, Edmure does not take this rebuke well. GRRM actually develops both sides of this miniature conflict. On the one hand, Catelyn’s not entirely incorrect in saying that Roslin’s constitution and temperament are more important than just her looks - and then Catelyn reflects that she’s got no room to throw stones.

And was it really such a terrible thing, to want a pretty wife? She remembered her own childish disappointment, the first time she had laid eyes on Eddard Stark.

Attraction is important too. Note, however, how Catelyn responds. She admits she spoke sharply to Edmure because of her own grief; her internal response to working out that none of Edmure’s peers ever criticise him sharply is to think that she probably shouldn’t do it either. And when considering that she might have wanted a handsome husband, it’s apparent that she never felt she had the luxury of sulking about it. She had duty instead of passion. After the war, she had “love enough for any woman,” but that was after - and, even if Catelyn doesn’t want to think it, she was lucky to be married to someone emotionally and sexually compatible.

The centrepiece of this chapter, however, is Catelyn’s discussion with Robb at Oldstones. Oldstones is described in some detail - “a ruined stronghold of the ancient river kings.” GRRM describes how most of the stones were long ago taken. What survives, though, is an old sepulchre of a king, worn away by time and weather. There are more than a few shades of Ozymandias, here. To make it even more apparent, Catelyn identifies the king as Tristifer, who won ninety-nine battles and lost just the very last one, but that one was enough to ruin his kingdom. Here, Robb and Catelyn talk about who is to inherit his kingdom should Jeyne not be pregnant.

Catelyn had five children. Five potential heirs to Winterfell. She believes Bran and Rickon dead. Sansa would come after Robb.

“…so Winterfell and the north would pass to her.” [Robb’s] mouth tightened. “To her, and her lord husband. Tyrion Lannister. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the north.”

“No,” Catelyn agreed. “You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son.”

Not Sansa, then. Catelyn dives back through her Stark family history, but Robb brings her up short.

“Mother.” There was a sharpness in Robb’s tone. “You forget. My father had four sons.”

This is one of Catelyn’s worst, longest-standing fears. Jon Snow inheriting Winterfell. She’s not going to let this go without a fight. A Snow is not a Stark, she says, and Robb tells her that Jon’s more a Stark than Catelyn’s preferred alternative of a Vale lordling. Jon’s a man of the Night’s Watch, she says, and Robb says now they’ve got precedent for releasing men from the Kingsguard, so they can apply that to Watch vows as well, plus compensation. Jon’s a bastard, she says, and Robb says, not if he’s legitimised by royal decree. What if he turns out like Theon, she says, and Robb calls the idea ridiculous. At last, Catelyn asks what about Arya? Robb finally loses his temper, here.

“…and dead. No one has seen or heard of Arya since they cut Father’s head off. Why do you lie to yourself? Arya’s gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they’ll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. Jon is the only brother that remains to me.”

Robb’s list of losses is almost as long as Catelyn’s, though he handles it differently - and where Catelyn’s clinging to Robb himself as the sole hope of her house, Robb’s hanging on to Jon. Robb wants Jon to be his heir. Catelyn just can’t support him.

“In all else, Robb. In everything. But not in this…this folly. Do not ask it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m the king.”

Again we see how Catelyn’s options, all those paths to a brighter future, have been cut off. Then it only gets worse when Robb announces that she’s going to be sent to Seagard. Robb’s systematically shot her down and now he’s cut her off.

They had known, she realised. Catelyn should not have been surprised. She had won no friends by freeing the Kingslayer, and more than once she had heard the Greatjon say that women had no place on the battlefield.

Forget being able to wield an axe - Robb’s decision here takes from Catelyn her ability to even use her words and wits to help him, and he does it in the name of protecting her.

“If you keep all your treasures in one purse, you only make it easier for those who would rob you.”

Like an object. And then, still in front of Catelyn, Robb has his lords fix their seals to his will passing over Sansa and Arya in favour of Jon Snow.

A king indeed, Catelyn thought, defeated.

This is not quite the culmination of Catelyn’s ongoing interaction with gender roles, but we do see here that she’s absolutely disempowered. The role she excels in has hit its male-defined limits, and she knows it. At the same time, she’s also achieved none of what she set out to achieve, in terms of protecting her family. Lady Stoneheart is not just the product of terrible wrongs, but of a longer-simmering frustration with being unable to act, and a longer-simmering self-loathing, now turned outward.

Chapter Function

Well, since the positive plans in this chapter come to nothing…

...a lot of what this chapter does is tell us a bit about how the aftermath is going to distribute itself. With plenty of irony. The Ironborn plot is set up, and the Riverlords were left behind (Jeyne and the Blackfish chief amongst them). We see both these plots in AFFC. The Blackfyres got a bit more development; we’ll see more of that in ADWD. A potential Northern succession crisis is discussed, possibly for TWoW, as well as some prominent mention of Howland Reed.

In character terms, it’s important to note that whether or not Robb wins the battle, Catelyn finishes the chapter defeated. Her own son has marginalised her to the point of uselessness. We’re nearly at the bottom of Catelyn’s tragic descent.

But not quite.

Miscellany

Robb maintains a rearguard for his army, even when there’s no known enemy behind them for hundreds of leagues. This is the sort of caution which meant Tywin couldn’t assassinate him in the field.

Catelyn notes here that she’s lost track of Ned’s bones, unsure whether they got past the Neck before the Ironborn invaded.

Catelyn recalls crossing these lands “often” with her father, yet more indication of how she was favoured by her father (and how Hoster did include her in political business); that sort of travelling is the sort of thing a lord might do with their heir.

More worryingly, Catelyn recalls a day when she played at Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies with Petyr Baelish. She might have been only twelve, and Petyr younger still, but the narrative there seems to have stuck in Littlefinger’s mind, albeit gender-flipped.

Clothing Porn

None.

Food Porn

None.

Next Three Chapters

A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD - The Soiled Knight, AFFC - Reek III, ADWD

#ASoIaF #revisiting chapters #catelyn stark #robb stark #edmure tully #jeyne westerling #house frey #a storm of swords

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thechasefiles · 5 years

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The Chase Files Daily Newscap 4/29/2019

Good MORNING #realdreamchasers! Here is The Chase Files Daily News Cap for Monday 29th April 2019. Remember you can read full articles for FREE via Barbados Today (BT) or Barbados Government Information Services (BGIS) OR by purchasing by purchasing a Daily Nation Newspaper (DN).

DLP ON A PATH TO RECOVERY: DURANT – The Democratic Labour Party (DLP), which was defeated in last year’s general election, is on a path to recovery. This declaration came from Pastor of Restoration Ministries, Dr David Durant, who said the party was focused on rebuilding organizational strength at the constituency level which was important for the political, social and economic wheels to succeed. As he delivered the sermon at the DLP’s 64th anniversary thanksgiving service, which was held at the party’s George Street, Belville, St Michael, auditorium, this morning, Durant told those in attendance that along with organizational strength at the constituency level, the party was also rebuilding political strength in every arm of its structure, to chart a revolutionary path to the 2023 general elections. He noted that the party has recognized the need for relevant, sound policy ideas that can be communicated in clear, coherent and consistent messages. “After 64 years, the DLP is rebuilding her reputation of being vibrant, friendly, energetic, caring for the poor and purpose-driven; she must be quite aware that this cannot be achieved without having a more sophisticated communications strategy, that is very necessary, in this advanced technological 21st century world,” he said. “This party going forward will adopt a new approach to politics and embrace a face-to-face year-round level of communicating with the electorate of Barbados. People on the ground networking and engaging the public in respectful, relevant, needs-based two-way conversations will create wonders in broadening the base of your support, especially when some of those conversations can produce positive results.” Durant also professed that the DLP will need to continue embracing the politically intelligent and skillful leaders who understand the vision of the organization and who embody what the party stands for. He said such a move would make a crucial difference in its success. Durant advised: “Nobody, no situation or anything can keep you down unless you choose not to rise again. In life there are defining moments that we dare not miss, making the choice between giving up and going on can be one of them for you. Certainly you cannot turn back the clock, but what you can patiently do, is to rewind it once again and keep on going.” Delivering remarks, President of the DLP Verla DePeiza said she was heartened by how much closer the DLP family has become in the past year. She reminded those present that members are free to speak up within the Party, and urged them to encourage others to attend party events, to share their experiences, knowledge, and vision, as the party nurtures its roots to ensure that the tree that grows was much stronger than the last. “I inspire you to speak up and speak out. There may very well be repercussions, but I have urged you privately, and now I urge you publicly, to have the courage of your convictions,” she said. During the service which was organized by Restoration Ministries, there was singing and dance presentations from the audience, and selected groups and individuals. (BT)

GAIA TO BE EXPANDED – Minister of Tourism Kerrie Symmonds says Government is seeking to expand Grantley Adams International Airport (GAIA) in a bid to accommodate more arrivals. “We are now in an advanced stage of doing an agreement that would allow us to see 75,000 square feet of new floor space being built out at GAIA and that is like building a new airport and annexing it on to the existing one. [This] gives us an opportunity to see our capacity to handle arrivals move from the record level 687,000 to one million arrivals as quickly as possible thereafter,” he said. The announcement was made during the Loyal Visitors Cocktail reception held at Blackwoods Screw Docks, Bridgetown over the weekend. Symmonds also announced that government is closing an agreement with Lufthansa Airlines which would see 1,000 Germans coming into Grantley Adams International Airport. “We are in the closing of a firm agreement with Lufthansa as they have started to load flights. We have not spent a dollar yet because our marketing commitments have not begun but we have 1,000 people coming out of Germany on Lufthansa with just the announcement. Three days weekly they will be bringing in traffic from Frankfurt,” he said. (BT)

RESIDENTS MUST BE INCLUDED IN DEVELOPMENT, SYMMONDS SAYS – A Government Minister is charging more must be done to redefine the island’s tourism product. Minister of Tourism Kerrie Symmonds in delivering his welcome remarks at the Loyal Visitors Cocktail reception held at Blackwoods Screw Docks, Bridgetown, said Barbados has a lot of prime real estate entities that are misused. “Barbados has a bunch of opportunities which have remained unpacked, unexplored and undeveloped from the time I was a little boy learning to swim. The reality is a lot of our beachfront property is old warehouses which are misused. The reality is some of our beachfront property are abandoned commercial buildings. Some of them are empty car parks,” he said. Symmonds said UNESCO heritage sites can also be retrofitted into signature tourism attractions. Thus, he said investment cannot only be limited to structural and financial development alone it must include the revitalization of Bridgetown for residents as well as guests. “We want you to help us deal with the need of having recreational facilities for our communities where we do not have appropriate recreational facilities but which must have them if we are to have a happy coexistence with the inhabitants of the City of Bridgetown and the surrounding communities of St Michael,” he said. The Minister of Tourism said a happy coexistence between the residents and investors is critical as Government does not want a situation similar to Latin America where the disconnect between investors and citizens led to antagonism. “We want to have the type of planning gains that allow for better housing in our communities, better recreational facilities, better drainage for those who are in low lying coastal areas, and more important than that, the investment in small business opportunities in communities which can be linked back to the hotels,” he said. (BT)

ONLINE VAT WORRY – Concerns are being raised about privacy and civil liberty issues in advance of value added tax (VAT) being applied to online shopping come Wednesday, May 1. Barbadian Alan Emtage, who conceived and implemented Archie, the world’s first Internet search engine, said as every online transaction will have to be scrutinised to see whether they are taxable, people’s privacy can be violated. “There are many things that people like to keep private that have nothing to do with doing ‘something wrong’, or at least certainly not illegal. Medical records, child or other support payments, court records, or even something as non earth-shattering as planning a surprise party are among the many such things that are routinely subject to all kinds of privacy concerns and requirements. These are things that you may not want your spouse or family, your employer or church group or government to know,” said Emtage. (DN)

AUTISM ASSOCIATION WANTS MORE SENSITIZATION IN WORKPLACES – The Autism Association of Barbados is lobbying for more sensitization in the workplace and the education system. President Frank Johnson said corporate Barbados does not have the prerequisites to accommodate autistic adults. He was speaking Saturday at the Au-Mazing Gift: A Journey to Autism Acceptance discussion at the Radisson Resort. The presentation which was conducted by Dr Alisha Griffith discussed increasing awareness about the disorder and also encouraging parents to create support groups and advocate for change. Johnson said more sensitization and awareness must be done on autism. He noted that the corporate sector “don’t know what to do” as it relates to adults with autism. “They should be sensitized that children like this do have abilities. It is the same across a broad spectrum of disabilities. There are people out there who are wheelchair bound and they are not considered to be productive but in fact, they can be productive. If you go to the Barbados Council of the Disabled, they employ disabled people of all sorts and they are able to take part in producing admin services and support to the BCD,” the president said. Johnson said as more children are diagnosed with autism, there needs to be a call for awareness and sensitization to their plight. He indicated that the association sought to create a lobby group which addressed the educational requirements for children who have difficulties. “Most people in the past have taken these children and let them stay at home for the rest of their lives and they are looked after by siblings or relatives and all of a sudden they are swept under the carpet. We are not for that, we are saying they do have abilities, they do `have the same needs as you and I and they should be treated as such,” he emphasized. “We are trying to reeducate people out here about their potential, their abilities and the fact they are not sociological write-offs, that they will have contributions to make to society, that they will be able to do jobs, they will be able to contribute to the tax base. They will be able to make their own way in life and eventually they will be able to look after themselves at various degrees.” The president also suggested further educational sensitization programmes for teaching staff and a re-look at the curriculum in schools to facilitate students with autism. He contended that the students did not need “massive amounts of investment in new equipment” but a new approach to teaching. “They do need sensitization of the staff to a different way of doing things with children who may need more patience so it is a question of using what you have in a different way,” Johnson stated. (BT)

STUDENTS LOBBY FOR FACELIFT – Last year, hundreds of fed-up St George Secondary students complained about the deplorable condition of the bathrooms. A year later, head girl Destany Arthur and public relations officer of the Students’ Council, Nikisha Carlton, are happy their lobbying led to a facelift, inclusive of freshly-painted walls, three new water tanks and improved bathroom facilities. “The conditions were not up to standard and I felt that if I had to use the bathrooms, I would rather hold it in until I was ready to go home. I knew if the students did not talk about it, this would go unaddressed. “So I pushed it on the Students’ Council and with the help of the teachers and the principal, it went forward,” Carlton said. They were able to get about 500 signatures before the matter went to principal Dennis Browne, who passed it on to the Ministry of Education. An ecstatic Arthur said the students of the Constant, St George school felt energised by the brighter surroundings and were seen taking pictures. “Honestly, the school is not the building; it’s the students. But when people came to the school they only focused on the negative and the school is not negative, it’s a really good school,”she said. Arthur encouraged fellow students to keep their surroundings clean. “Sometimes I clean the classroom to take [the] load off janitors because they get tired just like we do. We need to show the people outside that you love your school by not damaging it,” she added. Browne, who thanked the ministry for the intervention, said all the blame should not be placed on the students as this was the first time the bathrooms were improved since the school opened over 40 years ago. St George Secondary has a roll of more than 600 students. (BT)

POLICE RESPOND TO TICKET CRITICISM – The Royal Barbados Police Force has responded to criticism over the issuing of parking tickets at the Buju Long Walk to Freedom concert on Saturday night. Acting Station Sergeant Michael Blackman said: “Despite about three weeks of continuous public appeal there were a number of persons who continued to park indiscriminately on our walkway and pathways causing our pedestrians, especially our elderly and differently able, to walk in the road. This practice must stop and we will continue to enforce the law on their behalf". The acting public relations officer's comments came after a viral video on social media blasted the police for issuing a series of parking tickets on the Spring Garden Highway last night. However, in response, many of the comments were in favour of the police’s action and were critical of those who parked illegally. Blackman also said there were no major incidents reported and he lauded the good behaviour of the more than 17,000 patrons. The RBPF invited members of the public to take "this civilised behaviour" into the Crop Over season. (DN)

FORDE ATTENDS WREATH LAYING CEREMONY AT JAMES STREET METHODIST– It was a somber mood at the James Street Methodist Church, James Street, The City, this morning, as the church recognized the contribution of National Hero Sarah Ann Gill. Minister of People Empowerment and Elder Affairs Cynthia Forde joined the congregation for a remembrance and wreath laying ceremony, at Gill’s grave site, on the church’s compound. A historic perspective read by a member of the church, stated that as the Methodist community continue to celebrate 260 years in Barbados, the church is grateful to Gill for her contributions to Methodism and to Barbados. The perspective read that though persecuted, prosecuted, and faced with threats of death, Gill kept Methodism alive, educated the slaves and promoted religious and racial tolerance. In her own words, she was “a stranger to fear”. She successfully challenged the powerful, self serving defenders of slavery, extending religion and education to the enslaved and advancing the abolition process. The Gill Memorial Church was built at Eagle Hall in 1893, to honour her memory. It was replaced in the late 1980’s by the Ann Gill Memorial Church at Fairfield, Black Rock, St Michael. which was opened on August 26 1990. Her final resting place in the James Street Methodist Church is on property she provided to build the church. Speaking to members of the media following the service, Bishop The Reverend Derick Richards, said Gill exemplified what it means to be a true Methodist through demonstrating her relationship with Jesus and her contribution to national development. Bishop Richards said the only female National Hero was on the side of justice, the down trodden and the weary. “Sarah Ann Gill did all of that and today this wreath laying ceremony is an opportunity to celebrate her, but also to remind ourselves of who we are and how we need to be responding to the various challenges and social issues affecting Barbados. And so we are calling all Methodists and all Christians to do whatever they can to help make our society a better one,” he said. Members of the Church Choir and Barbados Boys’ Scouts also participated in the brief ceremony. (BT)

‘TOO MANY’ UNDER 50 YEARS DYING – Too many people under 50 years old are dying, a funeral director says. And he is cautioning young people to take better care of themselves. Funeral director and owner of Earl’s Funeral Home, Ian Griffith, said the increasing numbers of young people dying could be due to their lifestyles. “From my perspective, having been in the funeral business for over 35 years, it’s a fact that we have a lot of under-50 deaths in Barbados. We find that a lot more young people are succumbing to diseases such as diabetes and heart disease. It’s not just the older folks who are dying. It’s the younger ones going as well. Yes, we have some young ones dying from homicides but a lot of them are going from the chronic illnesses,” Griffith said. (DN)

BROADCASTER VERE WALCOTT HAS DIED – A familiar voice from the airwaves of the 1980s and 1990s has gone silent. Broadcaster Vere Walcott died today. Walcott, of Mangrove Park, St Philip worked at both the Caribbean Broadcasting Corporation and the Starcom Network and became particularly known for his business reports. He was also the very popular Charlie Bravo delivering early morning traffic reports from a helicopter. His son Sheldon Walcott remembered his father as someone who was always there for him and his sister Veria, hardworking and goal-driven. “He was always willing to help others,” Sheldon said. Manager of news with Starcom Stetson Babb remembered his former colleague as a journalist with great skills who worked across a number of areas from broadcasting, announcing to news reporting. “I worked with Vere at both CBC and Starcom Network and he was a veteran journalist of great skill. A great gentleman and a great person and in latter years he was deeply into his faith and religious principle,” he said. Former director of news and current affairs at CBC Michelle Arthur, who worked alongside Walcott as a reporter and on the morning traffic beat, recalled that he had a keen sense of business news and was well respected in the field. Along with the Bravo Charlie traffic report Walcott also developed a segment of news called “That Bugs Me, a satirical piece addressing issues or situations that many frowned upon but did not openly address. “He never had an unkind thing to say about anyone, always pointing out the best in people,” Arthur said. (DN)

For daily or breaking news reports follow us on Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter & Facebook. That’s all for today folks. There are 246 days left in the year. Shalom! #thechasefilesdailynewscap #thechasefiles# dailynewscapsbythechasefiles

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imagine-loki · 6 years

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The Witch's Familiar

TITLE: The Witch’s Familiar CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 30/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine getting so attached to Lokitty early on that you insist on carrying him just about everywhere. RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 Click here

You paused outside the palace and used a bit of magic to make sure your dress and shoes were free of dust from your outing. You did the same for Sif and she led you to the queen’s parlor. Sif knocked on the parlor door politely and Frigga opened it an instant later. “Hello darlings, come in!” she bid you both warmly and stepped back from the door to let you in.

“Allmother,” Sif greeted her politely and you copied the greeting. You stepped inside the parlor and saw that there was a table and chairs set up already for lunch. You joined Frigga and Sif there nervously, but soon relaxed at Frigga’s open caring manner. She really just wanted to get to know the girl Loki was courting and had invited Sif along as a buffer. She was too observant and knowing and knew you’d be nervous.

“So, did you find anything interesting in the markets?” Frigga asked after Sif told her that’s where you’d been that morning.

“I found a Yule present for Thor, finally. Thanks to Y/N,” Sif announced.

Frigga smiled at her warmly. “Great news! I know you’ve been stressing about what to get him. He can be difficult to shop for,” Frigga commiserated warmly. “That was the last of your Yule shopping too, right?” Sif nodded. Frigga turned to you. “Do they still celebrate Yule on Midgard?”

“Some do. Most celebrate a christian holiday instead now,” you tried to explain, and then had to go into more detail about Christmas for the Asgardians.

“Did you find any Yule gifts?”

You shook your head. “I… actually handmake all of my Yule presents. It’s an old tradition,” you explained a little embarrassed at the inexpensive old tradition.

Frigga looked impressed instead. “That’s a sweet tradition,” she told you instead of looking down on it. The tradition had come when you hadn’t had much money, so it was still a little embarrasing now. “It’s much more meaningful when a gift comes from the heart,” she added approvingly. “Did you find anything in our markets that striked your fancy?”

Sif laughed. “Loki threatened her with my bodily harm if she didn’t purchase something for herself,” she informed the queen, who just smiled knowingly. Of course Loki wanted to spoil you and of course he would make sure it was done if he couldn’t be there to do it himself.

“And what did you choose for my son to spoil you with?” she asked you knowingly. You raised your hand to show her the handflower and the black jewel there. Her eyes widened when she saw it. “A jewel chose you?” she asked shocked.

“So it appears. I’ve heard of the focus jewels, but they are extremely rare on Midgard, so I don’t really know much about them except that they’re a reservoir of power…” you admitted. You were surprised by how shocked the queen seemed to be that it had chosen you.

“They aren’t rare here, but they only choose the strongest mages to attach themselves to, especially a jewel like that one. I didn’t even know that they had even chosen Midgardians to attach themselves to. I’ll have the relevant texts sent to your suite so you can review them,” Frigga told you and you nodded and thanked her. That would be helpful indeed. You really didn’t know much about them.

“She also bought a gift for Loki,” Sif teased. You glared at her across the table and stuck your tongue out.

“Of course she did,” Frigga replied warmly, amused by your antics and seeming pleased by your friendship with Sif.

Before she could ask what it was, Loki teleported into the room. He looked around surprised and went to kiss Frigga’s cheek. “My apologies, Mother. I was finished with my business with Father and came to see my lady. I did not realize you ladies were having lunch,” he came over to kiss your cheek. “Enjoy your lunch, darling. I’ll see you later,” he bid you warmly and disappeared again after a quick farewell to Sif and his mother and another apology for interrupting. You smirked at the place he’d been. Silly Lokitty. You enjoyed the rest of your lunch with Frigga and Sif and were not at all surprised that it ended with tea and chocolate cake. She walked you both to the door of her parlor and thanked you for spending lunch with her.

“Do you need help finding Loki?” Sif asked you kindly. You shook your head.

“He’s in his room,” you replied She raised an eyebrow. “I can find him by my mom’s ring, that’s why he’s holding onto it.” She nodded, remembering that you’d asked about the ring at breakfast.

“Make sure you tell him you bought something for yourself. I really don’t feel like facing his wrath today,” she added before she headed to her own amusements for the rest of the afternoon. You had a feeling she was going to go beat someone up in the practice courts for the afternoon. She’d probably had enough girly activities for the day.

“I will!” You called after her and summoned the gift you’d bought for Loki and began working the spells on it as you walked. Sera fluttered ahead of you, leading your way through the palace halls so you could focus on your work. No one seemed surprised to see a mage working spells on a piece of jewelry while walking through the halls of the palace. It was nice to be able to be so open about magic in public. Sure, you could on Earth too, within reason, but magic was just such a part of everyday life here that it was a different type of acceptance and one you greatly appreciated.

You had the spell finished by the time you made it back to Loki’s suite. You walked into his sitting room and found him lounging on his couch with a book. He stood when you entered and set his book aside before he came to hug you while Sera fluttered around the pair of you making her chiming purrs. “How was your day, darling?” he asked you warmly and kissed the top of your head.

“Lunch with your mom was nice, at least it was after I got over it being intimidating as hell, especially with it being a surprise, but she’s sweet. And she served tea and chocolate cake,” you add with a bit of teasing. Loki pouted.

“I didn’t get any chocolate cake!” he whined at you. You smirked at him and held out your hand where a small plate with a piece of Frigga’s chocolate cake appeared a moment later. His eyes lit up at it and he took it from you gladly.

“From you mother,” you explained at his raised eyebrow and settled on his couch with him where he could eat his chocolate cake. You smiled at your adorable sweets-loving love as he ate his chocolate cake with all of the glee of a toddler. He gestured at you with his fork for you to continue telling him about your day while he enjoyed his cake. You smiled. “Sif and I had a good time in the markets. She found a Yule gift for Thor. Oh, and I got you something!” you added excitedly.

“Darling, you were supposed to get something for yourself,” he scolded lightly, but seemed pleased that you thought to get him something.

“I did, but I got you something too. I did have a guess on the size, but magic can fix it if it’s off,” you added as you summoned the ring you’d bought him and slid the ring on the ring finger of his right hand. “Unless you don’t like it!?” you added hesitantly with a blush. “I-I just thought you wouldn’t want to hold onto mom’s ring for long, and necklaces and bracelets aren’t really worn by men…” you trailed off, realizing you were babbling. Loki smiled and tilted your chin up so he could kiss you.

“I love it, darling. Thank you,” he told you after he’d kissed you. He quickly gave you back your mom’s ring, which you slid back onto your own hand after removing the charm from it. “So, did you buy something for yourself, or must I go scold Sif for not doing her duty?”

“Sif is safe. We found a magic shop in the market. I found this there,” you told him and showed him the jewel on the back of your hand. He took your hand to look it over.

“Impressive find indeed, darling,” he sounded truly impressed. “And it’s properly chosen you too… That’s rare for one of the jewels to choose a Midgardian,” he added distractedly.

“Your Mother said she’d be sending books up for me about the jewels. They’re really rare on Midgard, so I don’t know much about them,” you explained.

“Ah, that’s what the maids were up to,” he commented and then laughed when you went to your own sitting room and found the books on your coffee table. You picked them up, but didn’t delve into them right now, instead you vanished them to the dimensional pocket where you’d be able to summon them again when you got back to Earth and could invest time in reading them properly. Frigga wouldn’t mind you borrowing the books and you knew you’d be back to Asgard eventually. You were a citizen here…somehow. A lot had happened over the course of a few short days.

There was another feast that night and more dancing. Frigga announced during it that you, Thor, and Loki would be returning to Midgard in the morning. So you had to stay later than you wanted dancing with nobles and Thor’s idiot friends. You finally found a chance to escape with Loki and took it the second you could. “While Asgard is beautiful, I am anxious to get home. We did leave our friends with a bit of a mess with the witch hunters,” you reminded Loki as you walked arm and arm back to your suites.

“We’ll deal with those men. Fear not, darling,” Loki told you with a bit of a growl to his voice.

“I know we will, princeling,” you teased, trying to get him to lighten up from his overprotective mood.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why the change from ‘Lokitty’?” he asked, particular about his nicknames.

“Because, silly princeling, you aren’t a cat right now,” you reminded him quite logically. “But you are a prince,” you reminded him just as logically.

“And you are incorrigible, magelet,” he teased in reply.

You raised an eyebrow. “And apparently not the only one full of new and exciting nicknames,” you added, making him laugh. He kissed you goodnight at the door between your suites. You changed for bed in a pair of his stolen pajamas, finding the tunic and soft leggings more comfortable than the stupid nightdresses that Asgardian ladies apparently preferred, even if you did have to roll up the legs. Loki didn’t mind and just wanted you comfortable. You were about to climb into bed, Sera was sleeping on the couch in the sitting room, but something felt off. It wasn’t anything you could put a name on, or put your finger to, but you had a bad feeling, so you made your way nervously through the connecting door to Loki’s sitting room and to his bedroom. You knocked hesitantly, nervous at approaching him at this hour.

“Yes?�� he asked from inside and you cracked the door open, just as nervous. “Y/N? Is something wrong?” He got out of bed quickly and came over concern radiating off of him as he pulled you into a hug.

“D-do you mind if I stay here tonight?” you finally asked. “Something feels…off,” you added at his concerned expression. “I don’t know what or why, but I’d feel better not being alone,” you explained. He nodded and ushered you into the room, closing the door behind you.

“Of course, you can stay,” he told you and herded you to the bed, his arm protectively around your shoulders. “Don’t fret, love. You’re safe here with me,” he reminded you as you both climbed into the bed. He made sure you took the side furthest from the door to the room, so he could protect you. Of course he did. You intended to turn your back to be polite and just share the sleeping space and safety, but he pulled you to him so you were nestled safely against him, your head on his chest where you could listen to him purr.

“You turned back all the way Asgardian, why do you still purr?” you asked him softly as you started to doze off, safe in his arms.

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “Because, my darling, it soothes you and makes you happy,” he told you warmly. You realized that you shouldn’t have been surprised. “Get some rest, dearest. We return home early in the morning,”

You closed your eyes again and curled yourself more comfortably in his arms. “I love you, Lokitty,” you told him softly as his purrs were calling you to sleep.

“I love you too, little sorceress,”

#Loki #Lover #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #the witch's familiar #nekoamamori #chapter 30

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mkemeyourqueen-blog · 5 years

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frederickabberline · 6 years

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The Parallel Theory (AKA The Original Kuroshitsuji Anime Is Relevant, Actually,)

So I’ve just watched the original anime s1 again in full for the first time in years, and while I was expecting to find some parallels with the manga so far, I wasn’t expecting to find such a wealth of information as I did. So here’s an essay-length breakdown of all the similarities so far, and the plot points that I think are yet to be. Feel free to point out anything I missed!

Genuine warning that underneath the read-more this is a few thousand words, and when I say essay-length I mean it.

Note that the anime had a different order of events to the manga, and the arcs are as follows:

Intro Episode ~ Kidnapping Arc -> Ripper Arc -> Houndsworth Arc -> Magic Camera Episode -> Thames Last Froze Enough For A Fair In 1814 This Is Highly Inaccurate (Ice Fair Episode) ~ Drocell’s Arc -> Curry Arc -> Ghost Princes Episode -> Monastic Cult Arc -> Lady Blanc Arc ~ Servants and Chess Episode -> Paris Episode ~ London Fire Arc (Final)

And in the manga, (not including bonus chapters):

Intro ~ Kidnapping Arc -> Ripper Arc -> Curry Arc -> Circus Arc -> Murder Arc -> Campania Arc -> Weston Arc -> Green Witch Arc -> Blue Sect Arc (current) -> ???

IF ANY PART OF THIS IS DIFFICULT TO READ OR CONTAINS TYPOS, DON’T HESITATE TO SHOOT ME AN ASK, I’LL BE HAPPY TO CLARIFY/CORRECT!!

Now, I don’t have anything to say about Intro ~ Kidnapping, so let’s skip those.

Ripper

Although this had very little variation from the manga, the most interesting change (which everybody has noticed) was the addition of Grelle going to stay with the Phantomhives and proving herself deathly useless and insincerely suicidal at the slightest mistake. This was obviously her being difficult on purpose because she thought it was funny, and foreshadowing the fact that reapers are all suicide victims. The reason this is important for me to note even though everybody knows it already is because season one originally aired in 2008, but we didn’t learn about the reapers in the manga until March 2015, seven years later. This is proof enough in my opinion that the anime, while often poorly scripted, was made with full or near-full knowledge of the manga plot.

Houndsworth (See: Green Witch, with the lightest dash of Murder)

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: Our heroes enter a “cursed” village, well removed from society. The curse is said to have been around since ancient times, and one of the most notable village members is an old hag who warns them at the entrance. It is said that any outsiders or any who interfere with the village will be punished by the curse. Villagers who break the rules are punished severely and cruelly, and it is considered the duty of the head of the village to enforce the laws. People die due to the curse. Finnian has some flashbacks. There’s a decidedly canine element. In the end, the curse turns out to be fake, but there is something more going on under the surface, relating to Particular Plans to engage in a major war. A dog man is brought back to the Phantomhive Manor.

It’s easy to see how this lines up with Green Witch, although we don’t have Sieglinde or mustard gas. What we do have is Pluto, a dog man capable of massive destruction (I’d equate the fire breath with the gas in this case), who I’d say is a slight nod to Wolfram (the rough lord of the village was a bit more clearly related to Wolf, so I’d say he’s the other half of the character).

I mention Murder only because Pluto is an animal man who becomes a footman, and just so happens to be unaware that the Phantomhive group will eventually end up his enemies. That is, Pluto is a mix of the gas, Wolfram, and Snake. Snake must eventually learn that OCiel killed his family, which will test his loyalties severely. Whether he and the gas, like Pluto, ends up in the hands of the enemy again is another matter. Note that Queen Victoria desperately wishes to have Sieglinde on her side, and Sie is the key to that gas.

Magic Camera

This episode was total filler, as far as the anime was concerned, and while I’d say nothing of note happened, symbolic photographs are becoming more and more relevant to the current plot. So this episode had more of a thematic importance than anything else (and perhaps importance is a strong word). The rules of the magic camera were that any photo taken would also show whatever “not of this world” that the subject cared most for (that is, dead people). We do have a camera that took a photograph showing what was most important to OCiel, belonging to our newly introduced reporter friend Pitt, but making much more links than that is a stretch at this point. On the other hand, we have OCiel tossing the photograph into the fire, just as Sebastian burnt the photo from McMillan. Rejecting close bonds and trying to erase them with fire? hm. Undertaker too was recently captivated by a photo of the deceased, as he lamented that Vincent was burnt to ashes. Very opposing methods of dealing with grief. In any case, this episode doesn’t yield much. Yet, I guess.

Ice Fair ~ Drocell (See: Noah’s Ark, Campania, a dash of Blue Sect)

The Ice Fair was overall not a great episode and I’ll never get over the “I dunno, to hell with it, whatever” attitude of the staff in giving Undertaker a stall, as if he’d need an excuse to visit a fair without having a shop. But, it was necessary to set up for Drocell’s arc, and had a tip of the hat to the Noah’s Ark Circus with the inclusion of the toy ark. The reason I mention it specifically is because it had a bit of information that struck me as oddly relevant. That is, the fact that Ciel own one portion of the Hope Diamond, passed down through the Phantomhive generations. The diamond is supposedly cursed, often bringing a gruesome end to the owner, and the other half ends up coming through to Lizzy and marking her for Drocell.

“This ring has seen the demise of its master many times. My grandfather’s... My father’s... And... Without fail, this ring will bear witness to my death as well. It has heard the final agony of every family head. When I close my eyes... ...I can hear their screams” - OCiel, Volume I, Chapter 2 (bold emphasis mine)

I looked up the Hope Diamond. This next part is purely speculative.

The Hope Diamond came to Europe in 1642 and ended up with the French Royal family, who kept it until 1792 when it was stolen during the French revolution. Marie Antoinette, who died in October of 1793, was supposedly a victim of the curse. The diamond went missing, was cut to smaller size (in Kuro, this would be when it was split in two), and didn’t surface again until 1839 when Henry Thomas Hope acquired it. Hope died in 1862.

And I know exactly how half of the diamond (the half not belonging to Hope - that half would be the one Drocell tracks) made its way to the Phantomhives following the death of Marie. Undertaker reaped her, according to William in episode 18. Undertaker likes mementoes. So, quite possibly, he took it. Grelle does not know who Undertaker is, and yet she graduated from the Academy in December 1799, just 6 years and two months after Marie’s death. Therefore, Undertaker deserted between November 1793 and December 1799. How the diamond was split, I can’t say, but if it came to England through Undertaker then he evidently gifted half to the Phantomhive family.

Undertaker possibly gifting half is interesting, considering in the manga there are now two competing heirs to the title, one of which may be a bizarre doll. I’m not going to go on about season two any, and this isn’t really related, but Alois’ soul was carried in a ring for some time. But of course R!Ciel isn’t wearing a ring, and Undertaker should no longer have the other half, as it would have passed into Hope’s possession. That is, unless he later got it back, since he’s had enough time to. I don’t have any conclusions about this, I just think it’s interesting to note. We just don’t know that much about Undertaker’s true motives and how he first came to be involved with the Phantomhives, and anything relevant helps.

Lastly, though I personally hold no love for the theory that Undertaker is Cedric K. Ro--, it is interesting that OCiel said the ring came through his grandfather, despite it being a Phantomhive ring with the Phantomhive crest and as a result having been owned by Cloudia, rather than her non-Phantomhive lover. Possibly it was the gemstone itself that was owned by Cedric, and that was then incorporated into the Phantomhive family ring. This is only one possible explanation, and may not even be relevant.

Moving on from speculation about the Hope Diamond.

This arc, unlike the others, is made from two full manga arcs Frankenstein'd together with a dash of a third, so there’s a lot to unpack.

On the side of Noah’s Ark, we have a ginger-haired pied piper figure luring young children (in this case specifically girls) away and removing their autonomy, turning them into building materials for Questionable Fine Wares. This is done on the orders of a higher power, and it is not necessarily what the pied piper figure would wish to do of his own accord, but he himself has been turned into a mere puppet long ago. Elizabeth is in danger.

Sliding over to Campania, we have a puppet-master turning people into living dolls. Made to do his bidding, they can no longer speak and they do not complain or tell lies, they are in a respect pure beings, but also purely horrifying, as he commands them like a soulless army. The animal man must keep Ciel safe, and act as a guide. Grelle is there, freshly returned to the field, and is instrumental in taking down a few of the dolls. Elizabeth is in danger, but surprisingly ends up joining the fight against her wishes with some powerful attacks.

And another step over to Blue Sect. Elizabeth runs away from Paula, to meet a man who promises her happiness, and the ability to fulfil her wishes. He tells her that he sees her great sorrow. He can help her make Ciel happy. The victims are being controlled through music, and Sebastian saves the day by overriding the false prophet’s songs with his own, effectively stripping the man of his power. But, it turns out he is not the true leader here. Elizabeth is in danger, and is being turned into a weapon against Ciel and Sebastian.

Need I say more? Probably not, but I have one last note:

When Drocell is killed, Grelle says she knew he’d been reaped years ago, and then Sebastian says that he “must have been fitted with a makeshift soul”. This contradicts the information we have in the manga so far. We haven’t yet seen a reanimated manga character with a “makeshift soul”. Undertaker cannot create a soul, and the dolls cannot steal one. However, RCiel... We don’t know what’s powering him just yet. If Undertaker isn’t fully responsible for him as it’s “not his style” (-comment Othello made about unknown parties when examining the Cult technology), then it’s very possible RCiel might have a makeshift “soul” created by some other entity. This, however, assumes that the comment means anything and isn’t simply one of the lore inconsistencies between the manga and the anime.

Curry

Bitterly sobs about Agni.

Since this is one of the manga arcs, there’s nothing much to note other than... When the Queen enters the scene in the anime, everybody except for the Indian duo and Lau sing God Save the Queen. Lau actually opens his eyes to glare at her. We haven’t seen this developed in the manga yet, and any disdain on Lau’s part there is still well hidden. Meanwhile in the manga, the Curry Arc is where we first see John Brown comfort the queen with a little Albert puppet - he says to her “Your Majesty, Prince Albert is always with you”. He also just survived getting trampled by a horse, and we’ve never seen his eyes. These three factors add up to making him a suspicious figure already, considering Ash was an angel (therefore unable to be harmed by a horse, and had angelic features) who literally sewed Victoria and Albert together so that they could always remain with each other. Always with her, indeed. But more on him later.

Ghost Princes

If this is going to show up in the manga on a literal level, it hasn’t yet. We’ve not been introduced to any ghosts, and Ciel has not lost a game of chess to a deceased elder brother around his age who takes control of Sebastian as his prize (though Sebastian is not devoted to him and returns to Ciel - and this did happen in the manga with Sieglinde a little bit while OCiel was having a breakdown). Said elder brother devoted to protecting his little brother while holding a warped view of his past. This warped view, which is ultimately him lying to himself, is held despite his hatred of liars, and despite that hatred and his insistence on fair play he is willing to cheat to win (whatever is in his power is “fair”, matching Ciel’s whole bit to Madam Red about how Sebastian doesn’t follow the rules of the game and real life is not so predictable or fair). He, truthfully, holds guilt at how powerless he was to stop his little brother being attacked, as he was killed first after a guard let assassins into their castle while they were alone together in their room. When he comes to his senses and remembers the true version of events, and realises he can never have physical closure, his soul is put to rest.

O H W A I T,

We’re currently dealing with a lot of chess symbolism between OCiel and RCiel, and I don’t think it takes much to see how these situations are parallels.

Monastic Cult (See: Blue Sect)

This is the arc where we see that Tanaka and Ash were on friendly terms, which was a gag, but considering where Tanaka stands at current between OCiel and RCiel, and considering how he was insistent on OCiel being allowed to stay in his breakdown state to gently emotionally/mentally heal, I felt it was worth pointing out. After all, if OCiel heals, he surely gives up the Ciel act and possibly even gives up the contract. I don’t think Tanaka is a likely antagonist, but his goals are certainly at odds with Sebastian’s, and do sit more in the field of OCiel giving up hatred and revenge, as Angela tried to force.

According to Ash, there was concern that the heretics in this cult of purity were planning to rise up and overthrow the government, just as Victoria is supposedly concerned about with the Blue Sect and the way it bridges social divides. In both cases, this was a false order of sorts, since Angela and Ash were one in the same, and Bravat only used the Sect for the Blue Star, true mastermind of that operation and final goals currently unknown.

Both cults were infiltrated via a trusted tradesman - the anime cult through Undertaker’s coffin deliveries, and the manga one through Nina’s clothes deliveries. Undertaker is of course still involved in this case, but not in the same casual way he was in the anime. Both involved awarding people with radiance and a purpose, but ultimately were just ways to “harvest” people, and both gave a false hope. Bravat tried to tempt OCiel the same way, but was unsuccessful, just as Angela was.

Also, Grelle was there, having to investigate the stolen records/record tampering/altered fates. And O/Ciel had to dress up after pretending to be purified/have found his shine. Ciel is tempted to give up his revenge by a loved one returned from the dead, who also tries to kill him. Whatever works best, I guess.

When it comes to taking down the anime cult, Undertaker’s expertise was required against the higher-order antagonist. Angela and Undertaker were both capable of and in trouble for stealing/altering cinematic records/record books. Just as Undertaker is currently tampering with records and people’s futures to create bizarre dolls, there is an antagonist above him (and above Bravat) who is in charge of what has happened with RCiel’s resurrection and the Blue Sect’s altering people’s fates. While the radiance and purity are false promises, Angela could alter people’s perspective of their memories, and Bravat did succeed in extending the lifespan of several patrons (before he set the machines to reverse and drained their blood entirely).

Lady Blanc ~ Servants and Chess (See: Blue Sect)

Ciel is stripped of his role as Watchdog when he is blamed for crimes that Angela committed. Violet is currently giving the police a report which would state that Ciel Phantomhive was intimately involved with the Blue Sect and everything was for his sake (as the Blue Star), and OCiel is at risk of having his title stolen by RCiel, who would be the rightful heir if it is legitimately him. Ciel is forced to give up Sebastian temporarily (which also recalls, if RCiel is the ghost brother, Sebastian being ‘given up’ when the chess game is lost), Abberline sticks with him, however, which ultimately proves to be the dear inspector’s downfall. Manga Abberline is proving to be much more sympathetic to OCiel than his superior officer Randall, so it’s not a stretch to say his death could come to be in the manga fairly soon.

In the anime, Abberline states that this is just like the opium war all over again - “two wars in the mid-19th century (in total spanning 1839 to 1860) involving Anglo-Chinese disputes over British trade in China and China's sovereignty”. The wars started fifty years ago, and ended the year before Albert died, 14th December 1861. What else happened in the manga roughly fifty years ago? Something required Othello in the human world to investigate, and Undertaker was last referred to as a reaper some time around then. OCiel has inherited one hell of a political mess, I’d say.

In the anime, Lau is caught up in this, but I can’t currently see that happening in the manga, and I think we still have a ways to go before his true role is explored. That means that Lau interfering with a message from the queen that would result in war, Lau losing his opium dens due to a move from the Queen, Lau deciding to pull out of England because there’s no future here for him or the Phantomhives, and Lau ending up as one of OCiel’s Watchdog duty targets, all of these events have yet to happen and are most likely to get their manga parallel in the arc following this one. It’s interesting to note that in the anime, it was Lau who killed Abberline, but if Abberline is to die as a result of the Blue Sect, then it’s highly unlikely we’ll see a repeat of this. If Abberline survives the Blue Sect and becomes intimately involved in whatever comes next, particularly if Lau is also involved, then it might still come to pass.

However... OCiel has already lost a close ally who didn’t deserve to sacrifice their life as they were forced to do. This would be Agni. The manga has a lot more players than the anime, so just as Drocell was a composite Campania!Undertaker, Bravat, and Joker, it’s also possible Abberline took the brunt of what would have otherwise been two narratives within the plot, and he may not die as that has already been... accomplished by Agni. Or they might both die. I don’t know.

Lastly, the Chess Episode gave us a little glimpse of the servant trio’s canon backstories (except Bard was British??? for whatever reason), and centred around them and Elizabeth trying to cheer Ciel up (difficult, surely after he’s just lost his title). Manga Elizabeth is certainly dedicated to Ciel’s happiness, but we all know how that’s going in the drastically different circumstances she has to face with two Ciels. When/if OCiel loses his Watchdog title either because he is not the rightful heir or because he has been arrested for supposedly controlling the Blue Sect, the servants (by extension Sieglinde and Wolf as ‘Pluto’) may be his last physically powerful allies.

Paris ~ London Fire

Ciel heads to Paris, an important location because it was Paris that the Queen had tried to start a trade war against (the war that Lau tried to prevent), and because manga Undertaker has as of yet unknown business in France and in the anime supposedly was involved in Marie Antoinette’s death (see also the Hope Diamond ring). Druitt and Redmond have ties to France, and Undertaker has ties to Druitt. This links the Blue Star group with France, unless Undertaker was there to see to separate business not yet related to anything we’ve seen. The real-life Blue Star shipping group was involved with getting supplies to France during WWI (though France was allied with England during that), and thus far the Blue Star line has had a young member of their ranks killed (by Snake) during the Murder Arc. Incidentally, all three of the Murder Arc deaths were those of international figures. Woodley, an illegal arms dealer, Siemens, a banker who by what Grey says (”Dim-witted Germany will catch up to Great Britain, you say? It’s ten years too soon for that.”) can be assumed to have helped fund Germany’s military advances, and lastly Phelps with Blue Star. Blue Star line created the Campania, a boat doomed to sink from the very beginning, and the Blue Sect are also dedicated to “the Blue Star”.

That upcoming link with Paris aside,

“The entire slate must be wiped clean. There is no room for creation without destruction. In order for the new century to be pure, I cleansed the house that has taken on all that is negative in our nation: the house of Phantomhive” -Queen Victoria

“That’s what you call ‘cleansing’? Demeaning the dead?” - Ciel

Ciel runs into the Queen in France and that is when he discovers that without Albert she was willing to end her own life, and it is only through being ‘reunited’ with Albert that she has gained the strength to go on. It’s unlikely that the Victoria of the manga is a composite corpse like she was in the anime, but the same themes of her being ‘softly guided’ by a servant clad in all white who promises that Albert is here with her are there. See ‘Final Notes’ for a full breakdown of why John Brown is so likely to be a supernatural figure.

The Queen’s youthfulness may parallel the extended lives of the Lords that Bravat temporarily “saved” and Irene Diaz’s youth-retaining methods. In Campania, Druitt expressed his desire to rule the world in an eternally youthful state. I don’t think it’s related, but Vincent was also concerned about looking youthful next to Rachel, as she was a few years younger.

Ciel withdraws from the fight because he has begun to care about the fates of bystanders, which is a breach of the contract and angers Sebastian greatly, leading to them getting separated yet again.

Ash kills Victoria when she proves to be unclean as all humans are, caught in the past and rotting, and then returns to complete the holy bridge made of people’s despair. According to the manga (volume XVIII, chapter 85), construction of the tower bridge began three years ago. This means construction of the bridge began around the date of Vincent and Rachel’s death.

Ciel reaffirms that “If I let go of hatred, then I don’t exist”, and gives up the Phantomhive ring (the ring that in the manga is a symbol of who is currently acting as Ciel, the head of the family, and it not allowed to be worn by anyone who isn’t the rightful heir) in order to return to England. He is blamed for the death of the queen and shot. This summons Sebastian back to his side. Will OCiel have to give up the Ciel act in order to truly focus on his revenge...?

Undertaker’s crimes of the same-but-slightly-lesser nature as Angela’s to do with records are forgiven, in exchange for his help and expertise in taking down Ash and the way he is mass-defiling souls to fuel the bridge. Whether Undertaker will have his freedom in exchange for his assistance in the manga, we are yet to see, but I am positive that he is not too highly ranked within the Blue Star organisation for this to be possible, and his bizarre dolls still are a lesser crime than a manufactured doomsday-through-world-war. See ‘Final Notes’ for what I’ve gathered on Undertaker’s involvement.

Pluto is turned into a weapon against the servant trio, and they must kill him (servant trio vs Snake and the mustard gas...?). The reapers working together and the servants fighting to near-death are necessary to remove the power of the big bad, Ciel dies and all that, and as he’s guided down the river (of.... death....???) by Sebastian, a ring made of a blue flower, made by Lizzy and Paula, reaches him through the water. The Phantomhive ring (which in the manga is not truly his) is thus replaced by support/recognition from loved ones. This part was highly metaphorical and it’s difficult to see what it will (if it does) relate to until we have more in the manga.

Tanaka is a secret keeper in the anime just as well as he’s proven to be in the manga, as it’s revealed that the entire time he knew Victoria was responsible for Vincent’s death and didn’t say anything, as Vincent had instructed him not to allow Ciel’s perspective to become clouded by hatred. That sure went well, huh. Manga Vincent was clearly aware that he would soon die, and he tried to set up a support network for his sons in the event of his death, so it’s possible that he holds the same view as his anime counterpart and would be highly displeased (to say the least) by everything that has gone down in his name since his death.

The end, we don’t know what happened to anybody else after Ciel goes down the river.

Final Notes

JOHN BROWN IS SUPERNATURAL AND THE QUEEN IS READY TO KILL THE PHANTOMHIVES:

During the finale of the Circus Arc, Queen Victoria sent her three men to watch OCiel’s movements at Kelvin’s manor, to which they arrived by horse-drawn carriage. Moving from London to Kelvin’s manor took Sebastian one hour, the alternative of regular transport via train would have taken a full day’s travel. Although we don’t know where the white trio started, it is highly unusual that they would be able to both locate OCiel and travel in time to witness the manor burning when at no point did OCiel report back to Victoria that Kelvin was so much as under suspicion. Either she already knew Kelvin was responsible (who told her?), or the white trio managed to tail faster-than-a-train Sebastian from London to the manor... with a carriage.

Double Charles must be human, as they have grown up together, both attended Weston, and Grey states in the murder arc that ghosts, and other things he can’t take down with his sword, are a large fear of his.

They are surprised and suspicious about how OCiel managed to get a sample from the cursed forest in German to England so quickly, and yet John Brown makes the journey himself to deliver a letter from the queen directly, through an area known to contain deadly gas, with a horse that he did not ride. That has to slow somebody down.

He is not an alumnus of Weston, we have never seen his eyes, he moves with speed comparable to Sebastian, and he is the Queen’s right-hand man just as Ash was. It is highly likely that her unusual knowledge of current events, that OCiel has picked up on and is starting to become suspicious of, is also due to Brown. It’s worth noting that she has not referred to OCiel by name since he was given his title and she saw him in person. Beyond that point, she has always used “my dear boy”. Brown did not attend the title ceremony.

Victoria’s constant surveillance of OCiel, her sending Grey to the manor to frame him for a crime (see how in the anime he was framed for her murder, framed for the drugs, and right now he seems to be at risk of being framed for the Blue Sect) with no regard for how he, a literal child, will get out of such a situation. Grey also expressed frustration that Sebastian had gotten in the way and ruined his plan. OCiel was not willing to give Victoria SuLin, rightfully distrusting her. He sees Sieglinde as his ‘insurance’. Manga Victoria is shaping up to be just as willing to get rid of the Phantomhives once they disobey or become a threat as anime Victoria was.

I won’t conclude yet that Victoria, Brown and Double Charles are the ultimate antagonists, but they are proving to be antagonists.

UNDERTAKER IS CURRENTLY ONLY A PAWN OF ‘BLUE STAR’ AND MAY CHANGE SIDES:

This is my personal favourite set of notes I put together, and is the most immediately relevant, which is why I’ve saved it for last. It’s also the most speculative, and therefore most likely to be wrong. Undertaker may just be killed and Othello may turn out to take the role of “this is how we all defeat the big bad, actually," that Undertaker played in the London Fire episodes. Putting that possibility aside:

Undertaker is only seen handling RCiel at night, giving him an unknown drink and telling him it’s not yet time to wake up. I argue that this ‘wake up’ is a red herring which makes us believe RCiel wasn’t yet ready to be fully revived and implies Undertaker is in charge of this revival.

RCiel must have been collected directly from the cult to prevent the immolation of his body, possibly by the overly-calm hooded figure who appears in chapter 137, and from this point he entered directly into the care of the Blue Sect, as Bravat has been collecting blood for the sake of the Blue Star for roughly three years. This is evidenced by the altered death dates of the upper-class patrons who were using the transfusion technology to extend their lives, once the Sect started getting enough guests to have leftover blood. RCiel has been receiving transfusions (useless to a corpse) since the contract was formed.

Alright, you say, so Undertaker brought him back to life three years ago, no big deal, right? Well....... Undertaker is certainly aware that OCiel isn’t the real Ciel, meaning he’s known about RCiel for some time, but..... The bizarre dolls don’t require anything like blood, and Undertaker stated that Agares was his ‘crowning masterpiece, for now’... During the Weston arc. If Agares was the best doll he has created, and RCiel was already revived, how is it that RCiel could be the best? How could Agares be considered a masterpiece with RCiel around?

And then, supposing that he meant ‘crowning masterpiece revealed so far’ instead, how and why would Undertaker create such an elaborate network of people as the Blue Star lot? He hasn’t. He explicitly admits that he isn’t in charge in Campania, which means that somebody else is in control of this massive group that revolves around the revival of RCiel. How Undertaker got involved with them, I couldn’t say, but the first person to make moves towards reviving RCiel mustn’t have been him.

“Grim reapers, going by their lists, extract human souls from bodies and bring cinematic records to their ends. Day after day. Indifferently. Matter-of-factly. However, one day, after I’d spent a long time as a grim reaper doing just that, day in and day out, something occurred to me. What would happen if there was a sequel after those endings?”

“Even though it’s impossible to make another’s soul one’s own...”

“I can tamper with cinematic records, but I cannot create souls. I experimented plenty, but most of them became no more than dolls of flesh without an ego.”

“Those eccentric fellows said they wanted to see just how useful these could be... ...So I decided to experiment by tossing the same number of bizarre dolls as live humans onto this luxury vessel.”

“Because of you all, more humans survived than I’d expected. Will I get a scolding for that?”

Undertaker first got the idea to create dolls when he was still working as a reaper, which was presumedly before he met the Phantomhive family, since if the anime is to be believed he must have stopped working some time between 1793 (Antoinette’s death) and 1799 (Grelle and William’s graduation - Grelle doesn’t know who Undertaker is) and if that isn’t correct then at the very latest fifty years ago around 1839 when the opium wars began and Othello was also last in the human realm, as that was the last time Undertaker was recognised by anybody as a reaper. When he discovered that he could attach ‘episodes’ to make a more realistic doll, I’m not sure, but it was probably before Campania and Weston.

Whoever “those eccentric fellows” were, who had him go out on a Blue Star line boat and may “scold” him for not sinking the ship cleanly and leaving no loose ends, they most likely rank above him. It would be very easy to convince Undertaker to do something like this for you, if you had in your possession, or were speaking through, a Phantomhive in perilous health, wouldn’t it?

So, we don’t know if Undertaker was the one to revive RCiel, or provided he was the one who did it if he even did so alone, or who is actually responsible for this Blue Star group that is evidently preparing for war. Does Undertaker perhaps believe that the Blue Star group are the right side to be on? His character songs imply he’s awfully fond of the idea of doomsday/destruction, which Angela/Ash was trying to achieve, and just might come through a massive world war with supernatural influence. He’s stated his distaste for the queen, who the Blue Sect seem to be positioned against. But in the anime, the one in control of the cult that created a revived Vincent/Rachel creature and the one guiding the queen to dispatch the Phantomhives turned out to be two faces of the same enemy, which I’m sure wouldn’t go down well with him.

So where does a disgraced and betrayed reaper go to help take down a massive enemy that perhaps he has vital inside information on, but couldn’t take down alone, even though he knows exactly how to sabotage their final plan which has something to do with that yet-to-be-completed bridge? Why, he makes a deal with Dispatch, of course.

#kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #undertaker #john brown #angela blanc #ash landers #double charles #elizabeth midford #lau #bravat sky #I'm not tagging every character I mention hfhfdghjfdjfgdh #txt #mine #the parallel theory #this is almost six thousand words #I'm the WO R ST #analysis

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untilourapathy · 6 years

Text

Navigating a white space as a PoC

This comes after a 7 hour conversation with the lovely Anna @pukingpastilles. Bear in mind that this is drawn from our specific experiences and may not be universal. We hope it resonates with some of you.

Scrolling past this is an act of white privilege.

A lot of people either see race as irrelevant or that we talk about it too much in our ‘post-racial’ age. However, for us, it is our daily reality. We cannot choose to switch off our race, and thus cannot remove the burdens that accompany it. We do not have the ‘luxury’ of ignoring race. Until then, we’re going to keep talking about it. You may want to ‘skip the drama’ but it is a privilege for you to be able to scroll past this. It is our very lives that you are scrolling past. We are attempting to argue for our right to exist in this space. The topic of race is extremely underdiscussed in fandom discourse. Some people either see race as not relevant to fandom or something that they think they’ve sussed because they’re ‘open’, ‘liberal’ or have a PoC friend or something. That’s very different from actively educating yourself on issues that affect us beyond what you see in the news or from history. That’s good, but there’s more. Just because you’re socially liberal does not excuse you from perpetuating the cycle of racism. We have to fight to validly exist, and that is exhausting. Existing is exhausting.

Being a PoC in a predominantly white space is an act of protest as our very existence is politicised.

It can never be just a story of two people, not when we are so burdened. You are never just yourself, race comes first, and you are never not conscious of this. A PoC would be constantly hyperaware of their race because it informs how society treats them in every way. You are always self-conscious about things like not associating with too many people of your own race in case it comes off as threatening or exclusive or discriminatory. You subconsciously make adjustments to blend into the space as much as possible in fear of offending somebody, such as changing your accent or clothes. You feel a constant sense of double alienation. You occupy a liminal space. You are the hyphen in the Asian-American. We are marginalised, Othered. We are never granted full rights to exist independently of a Eurocentric standard.

Frank, outright racism does occur. And it sticks with you.

Whether or not you are easily hurt, it does stay with you subconsciously, and just reinforces this concept of your being lesser. It’s even worse when the target is someone you care about. You never forgot those moments. Moreover, microaggressions, ignorant comments, stereotyping and subtle prejudice can be just as bad. You have to work twice as hard to get recognised, and one thing do wrong completely discounts everything you’ve done. We are gaslighted, invalidated, discriminated against because of our genes…

You are seen as a representative of your entire race.

There have been incidents where I see a fellow person of my race on public transport, or in that room, and silently hope that they don’t do anything ‘embarrassing’ or ‘out of the ordinary’ because it would reflect badly on me. Watching the news, every time I see someone of my race do something awful, my heart drops not only due to what they did, because no matter what, their race is highlighted and I feel like this reflects on me. The onus is always on you, to conform, to fit in, to be as least foreign and Other as possible. However, your behaviour will never eradicate the fact that you will be judged. Or, you will be judged as ‘good for a ---‘. We must make a good impression to offset the automatic prejudice before they have met us.

Internalised racism has led us to believe we deserve our treatment.

Family can sometimes be the worst perpetuators of the cycle, as in their bid to give us a better life, they seek for us to fit in to a certain standard (especially with colourism). The effects of colonialism etc have shaped the way people view the white hegemony, and subconsciously we believe that we are lesser, less beautiful, less valid, less human. Furthermore, we’re grateful whenever an ally joins our cause, because we have got used to seeing our treatment as what we have to settle for. Even as adults, Anna and I still feel uncomfortable with our features because they do not fit the European standard of beauty, despite rationally knowing that it is just a subjective, culturally imposed standard. For example, we are keen to wear glasses because we feel so negatively about our eyes due to that ingrained internalised racism. By sole dint of having European features, the irrational part of me with that engrained white supremacy with never think of myself as pretty enough in comparison to white girls. You feel off-brand, broken and like something is wrong with you, even as a very small child. My friends still have to call me out for hating on my features too much. It makes for a very difficult relationship with your family, your sense of identity, home and how you see others of your own race. The onus is on us to accommodate white fragility.

That’s why representation is incredibly important.

Every time I read a fic with representation, no matter how small or how large the issues are explored, the twelve year old me within me tears up a little because for a little girl growing up assuming every character was white until disproven, I remember hunting library shelves for books with any PoC that weren’t stereotyped, reading those few books over and over again just so I could relate to somebody in the media I consumed. For all the little children, and for the children inside us all, please make an effort to reflect the way society is today. Your work makes a huge difference to us, our self-esteem, how we see ourselves. Every instance of representation is something that sticks with us forever. You will have made such a difference in people’s lives. If you’ve made a difference in mine, you must’ve for somebody else. Please. If your art or fic has helped someone deal with the implications of being PoC in a world of white hegemony, I personally think it’s worth the hate that you’ll inevitably get. Every fic or art that involves a PoC has been automatically politically charged, and there is a meaning and purpose behind it.

Often it’s said that a character is not PoC in canon, and thus shouldn’t be in fic.

Well, lots of the things that people do in fic isn’t canon. White fragility is real; a fic that removes every aspect of the character’s personality, or behaviour, or introduces A/B/O or sex pollen or talking hats or removing magic in the HP universe, for example, is seen as more acceptable than making a character PoC. Saying that a character can be turned into a wall or a pancake but not a PoC is to invalidate our experience as less than valid.

How should I write PoC in fic if I am not a PoC?

Perhaps see this comment I made on @gracerene09‘s post here. I am all here for the normalisation of PoC in fic. It doesn’t have to be tackled in depth in every fic. But due to the dearth of authentic representation in fandom, I think it has to be explored. However, please be diligent about how you explore racial issues if you do choose to. Race cannot just be switched out, you must deal with the implications – your heritage, culture, background, experience of the world all shifts. To lend authenticity to the experience you are trying to convey, please research eg please don’t fall into the trap of white saviourism, etc. Also, please don’t use epithets unless is it absolutely integral to the story. If we know the character’s name, there is no need to write: ‘‘Yes, please’, said the Indian man.’ If you are nervous about representing a PoC character without that experience, ask a few friends or try engage in discourse. It is better than remaining in ‘respectful’ silence, because then you are complicit in the greater systemic problem. To pretend race doesn’t matter is to say that we are all treated equally. The experience of being PoC is being hyperaware of your race constantly and that feeding into everything you do, regardless of how mundane, so there is no conceivable way that a PoC's character's every move in a world with white hegemony would not have been influenced by society's perception of their race. To pretend racism doesn’t exist is to dismiss societal racism and our everyday experiences. To be honest, racial issues are an inalienable part of the PoC experience, and thus I think they should be explored.

HARRY POTTER SPECIFIC DISCOURSE

How would the race be treated in the wizarding world?

There is no canon on this, so this is all my personal conjecture. However, I believe that Petunia’s treatment of Harry could easily be understood as racist as well as prejudiced based on his magic, should you choose to see Harry as a PoC. Harry can be an anglicised name (from Hari, which means Lion in Sanskrit), or Harry could’ve just been named Harry. It’s totally possible for someone to be named Harry and be PoC. Blood purity was intended as an analogy of racism to begin with, and the stigma of being mixed race and that balance between two worlds is not incompatible with canon. Say Harry is desi – the Potters could have gained their wealth from the days of colonised South-East Asia. Also, to say that it is unrealistic for there to be PoC in the Wizarding World is a bit rich, considering as the Wizarding World defies gravity etc. Plus, looking at the census, the nineties had about an 8% ethnic minority population. I think the percentage of PoC characters in HP is less than 1%, although do tell me if I’ve done my maths wrong.

Blaise Zabini: Class, status and race in the upper echelons of the Wizarding World

Blaise Zabini is at a very interesting intersection between various social constructs. He’s chummy with the upper class and the Sacred 28, and grew up in the Wizarding world. He is wealthy, thanks to his mother, and is very posh. However, as a black man, in my eyes he is almost certainly Othered. This is just my personal interpretation, but I think Blaise would have to emphasise his poshness to validate his place in the Pureblood bubble, and yet he would always be subconsciously othered, one’s Otherness can never be erased by looks, class, status, wealth or intelligence. Although race would not be the primary optic that people are discriminated against, I think that it still would be one of those open secrets that blood purity could sometimes be conflated with. I think that is why being both elite and PoC is such an interesting intersection to occupy. In a manner of speaking, I see Blaise to be akin to Othello – accepted because he has his merits but his entire character and experience is so heavily tinged by being black in a white space. This would be especially if the Pureblood set is meant to parallel aristocracy. I doubt the Draco, for example, would say anything intentionally racist to Blaise, but he seems to more the exception to the rule. This social mobility may be because he is a ‘foreigner’ from Italy, and thus his race is ‘excused’ because I very much doubt a PoC family could rise to such extreme heights in medieval England like the Malfoys. Say racism didn’t exist, in an extremely hypothetical scenario, being the minority would still affect you in power dynamics.

Hermione Granger as a Muggleborn PoC

Should you see Hermione as a PoC, she would then be doubly discriminated against. I would believe it to be inconceivable for there to be two parallel societies, of which there is interaction and immigration, existing in the same space where race would not matter in one where it would in the other. Blood purity does not matter in the Muggle World because they do not know of magic. This is not the case with race. Especially given Britain’s empire, it would take lots of worldbuilding for one to believe that the Muggle community at one point owned 25% of the globe but the Wizarding World was a happy little content republic. The twin lenses of blood purity and race is something that cannot be ignored, and that intersection has deep impacts upon a character’s identity. Hermione would be forced to go above and beyond to justify her existence (hence her fear of being expelled) and then would be called out for not fitting in by trying too hard. Being dismissed for the smallest of things is very real because as a PoC, everything is your fault. As a PoC, this behaviour would be normalised for her because she, even at 11, would be so used to accommodating to fit Eurocentric notions.

Cho Chang

This lazy orientalisation naming is another example of JKR being a white feminist. No PoC couple in the 80s would have wanted to draw further attention to their child’s race. To better integrate to make their life easier for their child, they would have not chosen Cho as an extra obstacle for her, I don’t think.

Colourblind casting

Adding onto above, I don’t think we can give JKR credit for being a progressive, intersectional feminist in the books if she retroactively showed love for black Hermione. I love that she did that and could be one now, but a lot of HP does not show due diligence in portraying characters of colour. The thing about a white character being casted as another race is that usually, that is fine because their race is incidental, and was not a defining aspect of their character or experience because white people in white spaces do not face the same institutionalised discrimination. When a PoC character is played by a white person, it complicates matters as their experience as a PoC in a white space is integral to their experience of the world.

by @untilourapathy

#racism #race #poc #representation #diversity #harry potter #hp #fandom #fic #mine

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