#examples and translations VERY encouraged

[flecks-of-stardust]

alright folks. if you speak a language besides english, do the expletives/swears involve either:

1. death, dying, something related to death?

2. excrement, be it feces, urine, or something else?

3. genitals, sex, something related to sex?

and if no, what is it and what does it mean? trying to see something here.

[captainamsel]

Ma Xiuying from the Radiant Emperor duology!

Design/research notes under the cut

The characters read 馬秀英 (Pinyin: mǎ xiù yīng), her personal name, and 孝慈高皇后 (xiào cí gāo huáng hòu), her name as Empress.

There's certainly no dearth of material on Chinese clothing history out there. That is, if you can read Chinese, which I can't, so everything I have is from secondary and tertiary sources and/or relies on translation software. Fortunately, we're dealing with historical fantasy here, so some anachronisms are not only allowed but encouraged.

While Shelley Parker-Chan takes many liberties, the books are still set in a very specific time period, which is both a blessing and a curse. Most readily accessible resources will tell you about dynasties, which can span hundreds of years, and the duology takes place in a transitional period. So how to dress a Semu girl from the Yuan dynasty who lives with Nanren rebels wanting to revive the Song dynasty and who later becomes the first Ming empress?

Let's go through them one by one. The best resource was this book which is on the Internet Archive. I disregarded Mongol and Semu influences for the design since clothing is very much political and a way to either stand out or fit in with the surrounding society, see for example Wang Baoxiang wearing a topknot in Khanbaliq. Ma, I imagine, would want to fit in with the Nanren around her, so she's pretty much wearing the attire of Han women under Yuan rule. For the hair I went for something that looks youthful while being plausible, though I found very little on hair in this period, so who's to say.

The next one is from a specific scene in the book, so there is some description to go on: red, long sleeves with gold embroidery, high hair, red and gold ribbons. Since this is the scene where Ma declares herself queen and future empress in front of the Red Turban, it has to be a very deliberate dress. It therefore takes inspiration from Song aristocrats' broad-sleeved gowns as well as from 翟衣 (dí yī), the highest ceremonial gown of both Song and Ming empresses. (Some examples for 翟衣 are in this post, which also features the bird shaped crown I just had to include, and this post.) Her hair still has the loops, but it's much more sculpted.

Finally, Empress Ma! This is mainly based on the two actual portraits I could find of the historical figure that Ma is based on, with elements taken from other portraits and paintings. It includes 凤冠 (fèng guān), the phoenix crown, 霞帔 (xiá pèi), the sash, and 禁步 (jīn bù), the jade belt. This video shows how Ming dynasty layers are worn, but it refers to a much later period so it's not quite the same as Ma's.

(Some additional, historically irrelevant notes: I realized too late that a right-to-left timeline might be more appropriate. Oh well! Also, how the colours photograph frustrates me, I swear I did not make her this deathly pale. And finally, some of the characters look a bit smudged because my cat spilled water on them. I did what I could to save them.)

[cnovelartreblogs]

C-Novels Available in English Translation

A few weeks ago, a few of my danmei-loving friends and I got to talking about how much there is that we want to read, but that none of us have been very organized about keeping track of titles, fantranslation links, etc.

So, we decided to make a spreadsheet.

AND to combine every link we'd each separately stashed around on that spreadsheet.

The result is a list of 102 titles (currently 96 are danmei, 5 are baihe, and 1 is gen, reflecting our personal interests/preferences) with links to translations, some complete, some not. (as of 2/20/23)

Love C-Novels? Especially danmei? Looking for something to read? Check it out!

Some notes:

This is specifically for English translations from Chinese titles. Though some of the links do include other works (for example, some translators also do Japanese, and some Carrds list fantranslations in multiple languages), we're English speakers who are interested in Chinese novels, so we focused on that.

Currently, this is mostly basic information (titles, authors, links), with no summaries, genre tags, etc. We hope to ultimately expand it but that will be a lot of work and the information is already available at the provided NovelUpdates links, so we encourage you to use those.

We make no claims that this list is exhaustive; while the first sheet lists the resources we had collectively already gathered, there's a second sheet with things we know of and intend to add.

We'll try to keep links and such up-to-date but if you spot a problem please let me know!

Know of something that's not on the main list OR on the "to add" page? Please do send the info my way! Comments or ask box stuff will help.

Note that to actually access the fantranslations, you'll often need to take additional action to read them - you may need to request access, or get a password, etc. How to get this access is usually included on the pages.

Known official translations are listed. We will not link fantranslations for titles that are out officially in English. Don't send them. Don't ask for them. We won't help you pirate these titles.

(ADDED): I have also now added carrds for works that I could find carrds for, and added a third sheet, with carrds for authors. (I looked for every title and author and added the ones I could locate; Google asked if I was a bot at least 6 times lmao). Carrds are often good for summaries, information about the characters, and especially trigger warnings, so they're worth checking out! (ADDED MORE): I also added NovelUpdates links for all authors, so people can see a full list of their other works even if they don't have Carrds.

Don't forget to thank and respect translators, and honor their wishes! Without fantranslators, we wouldn't have all this amazing stuff to read in English, so THANK YOU FANTRANSLATORS!

GO FORTH, AND FIND YOUR NEW FAVORITE BOOK!

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman, if you don't mind, could you please tell me if the fact that you once asked an official in China that Chinese people need more sci-fi stories to fuel their imagination and hence innovation, hence their invitation of sci-fi writers and yourself many years ago, was a true conversation?

I once found this in one of your journals but somehow I couldn't find it anymore and thinking of digging deeper in your archives through China tags sound way too daunting as I just had many exams today and in one essay I cited this very example and you in it to prove a point that scientists need artists (I see writers as artists too) in this world, and now I'm kind of freaking out on whether I hallucinated the whole story or something.

Whatever it is, if you managed to read this ask, thanks a lot and hope you have a good day/night ahead!

It was in 2007 in Chengdu, at the first offically approved and endorsed SF convention. Here's Bob Sawyer talking about it on his web site at the time:

And here's Michael Swanwick:

and a Chinese article from the time:

And yes. When I asked why the disapproval of SF had turned to approval, I was told that Chinese fact-finding conversations at Apple, Microsoft and Google had revealed that most of the engineers, creators, designers and inventors had read SF when younger and had become interested in making what they made because of SF, and that the official Chinese position in 2007 was that SF should now be encouraged -- thus the convention.

From the article at the time:

The 2007 China (Chengdu) SF/Fantasy Conference hosted the event. The theme: “Science, Imagination and Future” is an ambitious Chinese effort designed to inspire public creativity toward future scientific and technological development as well as promote national insight for scientific exploration. The conference has been scheduled immediately before the World Science Fiction Convention in Yokohama, Japan.

The conference has designated August 25 as “China Imagination Day”. SF and fantasy lovers signed their names on a banner to commemorate this day during the opening ceremony.

“Imagination is an important premise for creativity. Science fiction literature plays an important role in inspiring people’s imagination and creativity,” said Li Xiuting, vice director of the International Department of the China Association for Science and Technology, at the opening ceremony on Saturday.

“Our (science fiction) words become the world and our words become places that you can visit. They become books and stories that inspire people. It is both surprising and reassuring to know by accident that the places have helped to make a future we are now living. Places like Microsoft and Google, Apple and places like MIT are packed with science fiction readers and fantasy readers,” Neil Gaiman said on Saturday.

[realmermaid333]

A Guide to Using the "Inspired By" Function on AO3

The "inspired by" function allows writers to display fanfics that inspired their own fanfic neatly in the "notes" section via a link. It is used to credit inspiration, for archival purposes, and also for translations, remixes, and podfics.

It is a very fun function because it encourages community, and even gives your readers something else to read while they wait for your own fic to update. It can help people who really like a certain trope or writing idea easily find another fic just like it. And, if you use the function, the writer you are inspired by can choose to link it back to their own fic. So, at the end of their fic it will say, "works inspired by this one," and list yours.

"How can I tell if I should use the "inspired by" function or not?"

You should use the inspired by function if you are directly inspired by another fic. I have done this twice, and it is splendid. One of my besties and I have fics that are attached by this function. It's like they're holding hands via "inspired by" links :' )

If you read a fic, and at the end you're like, "Wow, this was totally radical, and now my gears are turning with an idea just like this one, but I'm gonna add my own spin to it." That would be a moment that calls for the "inspired by" function.

A situation that doesn't call for the inspired by function is two fics that are similar in trope, but the second one was not inspired by the first. For example; let's say person A writes a coffee shop AU fic, which is a very common trope, and person B also writes one, but without having ever read person A's fic, or without directly getting the idea directly from person A. Person B was not inspired by person A.

Let's say person B did read the fic, then also eventually decided to write a coffee shop AU that was completely different, and had very little in common with A's fic. That would not be a moment where the "inspired by" function would be necessary. B could use their own judgement to gauge how inspired they were by A's fic.

But, let's say person B really, really loved person A's fic, and wanted to show everyone another coffee shop AU. Person B very well could still use the "inspired by" function just to have the link. Or, they could just link the fic in their "Notes" section, but i personally think the inspired by function is a little easier than creating a "notes" link on ao3 LOL.

However, I have seen some people just list a fic they are inspired by in the notes section without any issues, but I encourage people to use the inspired by function. If you're unsure, maybe ask the author that you're inspired by if they care. If you ever don't use the "inspired by" function, and step on another writer's toes, just simply talk it out and credit.

"But, Mermaid, if I use the "inspired by" function, won't it look like my fic belongs to the original person?"

No?? I am including this because I've seen a surprising amount of people say this and it bugs me. If you use the "inspired by" function, it links the fic you were inspired by in the "notes" section in first chapter. That's it. It doesn't say, "this fic belongs to this other writer," lol. It says, "Inspired by (insert fic) by (insert author)," one single time. After that, it will not be listed in future chapters. Your name will always be on it, and it will only be listed on your account like usual.

To conclude, you should use the "inspired by" function if you are directly inspired by another person's fic. if you're not, then don't use it. Easy peasy. I encourage its use because it's very fun, it is part of fandom etiquette to use it when needed, it allows people to recommend fics similar to theirs, credit another person's idea they used, etc.

[brights-place]

Hey so like, I was wondering if you could do like a Branch or JD x Metal troll s/o One shots? (Rock or punk if you can’t do metal) but if you can’t do it in general, that’s totally OK. I totally understand ^^

-🪐

Branch and John Dory dating an Metal! S/O

Pairings: Branch X Reader, JD X Reader (Seperate)

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

A/N: As an metal head I'm SCREAMING SO LOUDLY WITH EXCITEMENT! I enjoy this request so I hope you like it since I've been getting very lazy to write more since I have some tests coming up but hope you like it (,,>﹏<,,)

John Dory

- You and John dory meet inside of a metalhead concert... Well more like john dory was going to go drop Floyd off to the concert but his eyes met yours pulled in by your tall figure and your messy like state but the bat wings on your back aswell. - John dory shyly asked you about well Metal music - It turns out that you have many interests in common with each other, both inside and outside of the metal music genre about you. - It was the mutual love of music well your love for it and John dory nodding his head pretending he understands! - that forms a deep bond between you two. As you spend time with your boyfriend and listen to metal, you begin to appreciate his passionate personality and unique style, and begin to fall more and more in love with him as he does with you - You are good friends with Floyd after meeting John dory's family which is acutally pretty cute - When John dory wakes up and see's you looming over him with corpse makeup though he screams so loudly it isn't funny... It is funny - John dory knows yoy have a passion for the genre and always find ways to express yourself through it - He does get freaked out when you play it out of nowhere but hey! he loves you - He sometimes asks you to turn it down which you comply with of course - John dory tries to get you to listen to pop but when you just stare and bop your head slightly he knows you like it but it can't ever replace Metal - He wears your metal shirts just for fun and whenever you see him in them you rush over to hug him - He loves having you kiss him if your wearing black lipstick he likes the kisses since he is touch starved.

Branch

- You met at a concert accidentally bumping into each other - When Branch became a rock zombie and turned back to a pop troll he still enjoyed some rock music and maybe he would enjoy metal music too! - To branch you were a total rockstar - Branch knows how you love everything about metal, from the clothes to the music to the attitude.

- But, behind the confident and tough exterior, Branch has a soft side that only you can see

- You and Branch are a perfect example of opposites attracting. (name) is daring and unpredictable while Branch is reserved and thoughtful.

- You and Branch have a deep connection and understanding of each other despite their differences in genre - Branch is a true supporter of your ambitions and talents especially when you want to jam out and singing metal songs. - You love helping branch grow and gain confidence. - (name) loves talking about metal music with Branch and educating him on the different genres and artists as he stares at you lovingly with an soft smile

- (name) and Branch have a strong sense of loyalty toward each other. - branch always see you often head banging to your favorite heavy metal tunes. - (name) pushes Branch to be the best version of himself by challenging him and encouraging him to step outside of his comfort zone. - You have a wardrobe full of edgy and trendy metal shirts with graphic designs and slogans. - Since your a metal head if he ever finds something he knows you would like for example when vising barb with poppy he bought an Rock and Metal band shirts when he gave it to you he laughed when you kissed his cheeks

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for yelling at my husband for spending "my" money for a part?

My husband stalks the actual AITA reddit so I am using my friend's account here as she has shown me these.

I (25m) have a husband, Liam (25m), and we have a daughter (just turned 2). When I first married Liam, I truly loved him, but I'm not sure now. We have ups and downs and I suffered from postpartum depression and I know Liam has said i was a handful then.

We are almost at five years of marriage. When we got married I had a job, which I left when me and Liam moved for his promotion across the country. Liam encouraged me to stay home and watch our dogs, which then translated to watching our daughter after we had her. I have tried to get a job multiple times, for example I had an interview and missed it because our car wouldn't start (Liam worked on it when he got home thst night and fixed it, but they wouldn't let me interview again). One time we all came down with covid. Just normal life things that occur.

Liam has discouraged me from getting a job, saying he makes enough to support us and wants me to be with our daughter. I do love being with her, but I feel unfulfilled and want to work. I tried to sell stuff online, but we decided it was too expensive to continue. Liam finally agreed for me to get a job, I got an interview and they offered me the job, but I just found out I am pregnant. The job is very labor intensive and my first pregnancy was not easy, Liam doesn't want me to accept and I am inclined not to, but I want to earn my own money.

Well, our heater unexpectedly went out and we had to pay for the part to fix it. Except, instead of using the joint account he used my account. Liam told me that it is his money and he can spend it how he pleases. I yelled at him that I would have money if I was able to get a job, and he told me I was being too hormonal because of the baby and needed to look at things logically. I told him to fuck off. I said some other things in anger, and I'll be honest i don't remember exactly what I said but i didnt think it was that bad, but Liam won't tell me. He says it was absolutely terrible and i must not love him to say what I did and that my brain fog is just me blaming the pregnancy. He has since slept in the guest room while I sleep in our room. I apologized for yelling but told him I still wanted a job, he says that isnt a real apology. AITA?

My friend says to add this here for context:

We have three accounts, they all are joint accounts. The first is a checking which is what we take our rent, bills, etc out of and what the part should have come out of. Then we have the first saving account which is his account. Then there is the second checking account which is considered mine. He puts money in it weekly for me to spend on groceries and our daughter. Anything extra I don't spend I get to keep.

What are these acronyms?

[dduane]

Dear Diane,

if you appreciate cheering-up today, I have another story to offer. Or rather, something I've been meaning to say for some time.

When I got into the Star Trek fandom, your books were to me what fanfic is to new fans today.

At the time, which was in the mid nineties, I was a young German university student with hardly any internet access. (Well, it was possible to log in at the institute to read your email, which was an exciting new way to communicate, but that was it.) But there was a library in town, which held an entire shelf of ST books! Yours were among them - the German translations, of course, which was all we had at the time - but they were so good that I remembered your name.

Today, when getting into new media, the first thing I do is to check out tumblr and AO3. Back then, I didn't even know such a thing as fandom existed. But I had the books! They went beyond the shows and told new stories; they explored the characters in new ways. They showed me that the Star Trek universe was so much larger than I had imagined, and encouraged me to want more of it. I wrote my first little piece of fanfic then, without knowing what fanfic actually was.

Thank you so much for that. It is an honour to be here on tumblr with you.

You're so welcome! And I'm pleased to be here with you too.

I have to say that one of the reasons (among various others) that I'm so fond of the German side of Trek fandom is because that's where I first saw my name on a book on a spinning rack in another language. Naturally it's very nice to be sent authors' copies from Heyne (or whoever) at your home address. But it's something else entirely to see a book with your name on it in a bookstore, or a railway station newsstand, in a different country. And a Star Trek novel at that! You can't beat it. :)

Additionally, our meet-ups with German Trek fans (at FedCons, for example) have always been fantastic. @petermorwood and I both look forward to getting over that way again as soon as we can.

Anyway, thanks for letting me know! :)

[parasolyaa]

Buckle up, we're overanalysing Mischa's name

Firstly, it just cannot be his legal name on the documents. Mischa is always short for Mykhailo (equivalent to English Michael). Secondly, Bachinski is actually the Russian spelling of his surname, and, well, there was little chance of the writers using the correct form back in 2008. Ukrainian spelling is Bachynskyi! Thirdly, in Ukrainan and some other Slavic languages every person is supposed to have their father's name attached to their name. For example, if your father is Taras, and you are Andriy, than you would be Andriy Tarasovych. We do not know Mischa's dad's name, so for the sake of this exploration I'm just gonna go with Mykola (I just like this name and it is popular enough). That turns Mischa Bachinski into Mykhailo Bachynskyi Mykolayoch (Михайло Бачинський Миколайович)

+ I'm not sure, but Misha probably is a more accurate transcription of Міша than Mischa

Now onto the etymology (sorta). The name Michael was gender-neutral with Hebrew origin (vaguely meaning "who is like God" or "gift from God", the second version is less accurate but I like it cause it plays well into my headcanon of Mischa being a miracle baby since it was unlikely for his mother to have a normal pregnancy after the radiation exposure). Odesa is a city with a lot of Jewish population so yeah. And also Michael is the name of an archangel in the Bible.

But as for Mykhailo specifically, a random Ukrainian article says:

Little Misha is an inquisitive and good-natured boy. He is very independent and likes to have his own responsibilities around the house. If Misha gets into good company, then there is no need to worry about him. Mykhailo is unsure of himself, so his parents need to encourage him more often. The owner of such a name is easily offended, but not spiteful. He is in poor health. Mykhailo's main shortcomings are that he gives up easily and never admits he is wrong. In love, he is very persistent and patient. Mykhailo can pursue his beloved for years. He does not know how to make compliments and give gifts. He proves his love not by word, but by deed. Tends to slight obesity and often has poor eyesight. The name suits Sagittarius, Capricorns, Aquarius. Not suitable for Pisces.

I only picked out the at least somehow interesting stuff, cause the article is long and you can read it yourself with the help of Google translator if you'd like. Also it has a section of female names the owner of the name is likely to get along well with, and it has no mention of Natalia (Talia), but Tamara was first on the list🥹

In Russian language Mischa is a way to say bear. In Ukrainian language Myscha is a way to say mouse. This is lowkey symbolic and I should use it in a fanfic at some point. Imagine Mischa telling everyone his name means bear and technically not lying, but in his mother tongue it actually is a tiny little animal. One of my headcanons is that his mother called him myshko (the way to say "little mouse" when reffering to someone directly. The subjective form is myshka, an even more affectionate/сute version is myshenya, myshenyatko)

Literally every noun in Ukrainian language has A TON of affectionate/сute versions, here are just some of such forms for Mischa: Mykhaylyk, Mykhaylychok, Mykhaylonko, Mykhaylochko, Mykhalyk, Mykhas, Mykhasyk, Mykhasko, Mykhasyo, Myshko, Mischenka. This isn't even a half, but some are quite impossible to translate. My fav versions are Mykhaylyk, Mykhasyk and Mykhalyk, they are also the most popular but basically all of them can be used if you wanna call him affectionately hehe

thank you for your attention folks🐭

[yuurei20]

Concerning the Vil-Epel drama: I'm from a Scandinavian country and even here we have dialects. I haven't heard them myself, but my mom has and she says they are literally impossible to understand and you need a translator to speak with them. And it's not a bad thing- we don't say those people are less than or anything of the sort- it's just like holy cow we cannot understand anything they're saying, how are we supposed to communicate like this (especially when they understand us since our dialect is the 'base' dialect). If anything, it's funny because of how a dialect can make the same language not understandable, and also disappointing/frustrating that we can't talk to them because we literally don't know what they're saying. So to me it seems like part of the reason Vil wants Epel to not speak in his dialect is simply so people can understand him better and so people can actually communicate with him. We've seen in the Harveston event (if I remember correctly) that the others have no clue what Epel says before they jump the gap, and they need to ask his grandma to translate. That's an example of how if he didn't remove his dialect people would not know what he's saying. I don't think it has anything to do with negative connotations towards the dialect (I bet Vil would encourage it if they were in a situation where it would be beneficial/welcoming), but rather Vil trying to teach Epel that it's not about hiding your dialect/culture, it's about being considerate to those around you to have them understand you (like how you pointed out his granny changed to polite speech when talking to the NRC boys). Don't you think even granny would have at some point taught Epel that? (Although not in the same manner or extremity as Vil).

There seems to be some discourse going on of which I was not aware!

Thank you so much for your perspective!! It is very interesting and informative and wonderful to know!

Yes, it does seem strange that maybe no one warned Epel about interacting with people outside the village, but maybe they did!

This gets into conjecture because we have nothing in-game to confirm either way, but it might be possible that they just assumed he would pick it up through personal experience, or he just wasn't able to make the connection between their warnings and what real-world experience would be like.

Marja herself has no problem with adapting to the time/place/occasion, but as Epel is still a child with limited exposure to people from other cultures, we are watching him experience this learning process in real time!

In a way, Epel's experience at NRC could maybe be interpreted as Vil encouraging him to be more like his grandmother :> Epel was likely aware that the older people in the village adapt their speech patterns when necessary, but maybe never made the connection about exactly why?

He knew it was polite, but when early-Epel shows up at NRC, he is already in fighting mode: he has no interest in being polite, which he might have seen as making concessions and, thus, a weakness.

Bullied his whole childhood for his appearance he decides he is going to set the record straight from day one at NRC so that people know not to mess with him, and then Vil comes in.

It seems like it all connects to Epel's arc as he learns that you can be conscientious of time/place/occasion (like his grandmother), but still be proud of your heritage and strong (like his grandmother).

And you can be beautiful (like Vil), but still be strong (like Vil).

(Because Vil is Vil his wording has a lot to do with the importance of beauty, but the more I think about it, the more it seems like Vil is just trying to prepare Epel for life in a society.)

There is an ongoing theme with Epel that we see in Book 5 and Halloween where he gets jealous of people who can do things that he can't, so he doubles down that he is right and they are wrong in order to make himself feel better about his shortcomings.

That might also tie in to his frustration with Vil's restriction of his dialect!

He has more difficulty expressing himself without it, so rather than do what Vil is trying to get him to do and work on it, by Book 5 he is still doubling down and insisting that Vil is the problem, not himself, despite how he was raised watching everyone around him do exactly what it is that Vil is saying he needs to do.

I really appreciate everyone's introspection!! The more you think about it, the more interesting Epel, his family, his relationship with Vil and his circumstances become! :> He is living through his own, personal coming-of-age story before our eyes!

[portaltothevoid]

Between Breaths (An XXX Perspective) - Terzo x Reader

Summary: You're the Head Witch at the Ministry. Arguably at times you hold more power than the current Papa, Papa Emeritus III. You've always hated him and you assumed the feeling was mutual. But what happens when he calls you out on it?

song: between breaths (an xx perspective) by blaqk audio

A/N: had an idea that was encouraged by @copias-juicebox, @fishwithtitz, and @da-rulah. you can thank them or blame them for this. idk i guess i have terzo brainrot. enjoy the absolute filth that is this one shot. (pictures for the mood board all found on pinterest)

word count: 6.5k

warnings: MDNI. enemies to lovers, angst, female reader, hate sex, semi-public sex, library sex, oral m-receiving & f-receiving, face fucking, deepthroating, dom!terzo, brat!reader, edging, fingering, squirting, p in v, face slapping, unprotected sex, cream pie, using a belt as a makeshift whip, choking, lots of bickering banter before the smut, not really proofread, self-translated italian

Being the Head Witch of the Satanic Church definitely had its perks. For example, you could go in and out of the restricted section of the library as you pleased without having to provide any explanation as to why you needed a certain book, your living quarters rivaled that of the highest clergy members, and you were the one calling the shots with anything related to magic, be it a conjuring or a protection spell, a cord cutting. Sometimes your power within the Ministry rivaled that of Papa, the Anti-Pope, much to his chagrin, of course. 

Brothers and Sisters of Sin alike flocked to you, not only for your expertise, but because you were drop dead gorgeous, charismatic, feisty, and because you had power. With your office being directly across from Papa’s, you would often catch him glaring at you from his desk as the door to your office might have been a revolving one with how many people were in and out of it. And especially during major holidays, did the Children of the Ministry come knocking at your door. It sometimes seemed like they had forgotten about their darling Papa Emeritus III. They only had eyes for you. That drove him crazy and thus, your rivalry was born.

Despite seeming to have it all, it grew tiring to be constantly surrounded by so many people. Having company at night was great and all, but the connections were vapid. You had no choice but to keep any and all suitors at arm’s length; it was safer that way, both for you and for them. Your work was demanding and that would always come first. There was an aching loneliness that gnawed at you, but you refused to acknowledge it. Relationships, true connection, only got in the way. You weren’t the youngest Head Witch the church had ever seen, barely even in your thirties, because you spent time curating intimate and genuine relationships in the hopes of one day starting a family. You had ambitions, goals, and nothing would get in the way of that.

This led to quite the paradox: you were surrounded by people, loved and excelled at your job, and even craved solitude, but the loneliness that clawed at your heart could be suffocating.

Tonight was one of those paradoxical nights where you wanted nothing more than to be alone, but you wished there was someone you could be alone with – no expectations, no ulterior motives, just the mere act of coexisting with someone who had chosen you and you had chosen them. Often, you would find yourself in the library on nights like this. People would be too engrossed in their own studies to pay you any mind. Or you would just stay in the restricted section, knowing very few people had access to it. 

It was quiet enough that you found yourself just outside the off-limits occult books. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, perhaps you’d know when you found it. 

Too lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the last person you wanted to see walking towards you until it was too late to make a swift getaway. “Buona sera, cara mia (my dear),” greeted the illustrious Papa as he leaned his back against the bookshelf, an arrogant smirk on his face. 

You set your book on the shelf in front of you as your head tilted back with an exasperated sigh escaping you. “What do you want, Terzo? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.” 

He put a gloved hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. “I am offended.”

“Clearly not enough to leave me alone.”

“Ah, you see, that I cannot do, because I’m looking for something, a book actually, and I just so happened to see you, and perhaps you could find it in your cold, black heart to help me.”

It was your turn to gasp dramatically as you slowly turned to face him. “You can read?!”

Terzo rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Will you help me or not?” he asked curtly. 

“Sure! The children’s section is downstairs, to the left, all the way to the back. You can’t miss it.”

“I didn’t rise to Papa with the reading level of a toddler,” he retorted with an edge to his voice.

“You’re right, my mistake. It must have been the nepotism.” 

He let out a frustrated puff as he pushed himself away from the bookshelf and started to walk away. Your quiet chuckle was loud enough so that he turned on his heel and walked right back up to you. “I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”

“Because you’re a pompous figurehead with a constant need for attention who’s had nearly everything handed to him and the fact your dick sees more traffic than the 405 on a Friday night during rush hour.” You spoke with an air of nonchalance like you were just spouting off a common factoid as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. The bookshelves now against your back.

His eyes turned to slits. “Who am I to turn down those that hand themselves to me willingly? And don’t act like your body count isn’t as high as mine. If anything, I’d bet it’s higher judging from how many people I see – and hear – coming and going from your office,” he spat. 

“Well, at least the lives of the people I fuck actually improve afterwards when the spells come to fruition. They aren’t just fucking me for clout and just to say they did only to find out you’ve already moved on to your next conquest.” Your upper lip started to curl upwards into a sneer, but you did your best to control it. The last thing you wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you.

“Oh, spare me the righteous act, dolcezza.” 

“It’s not a ‘righteous act’ to make my intentions clear to my partners. Maybe you should try that out sometime. Sure would save me a lot of work.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, glaring at you as he took a step towards you.

“It means that your escapades upset enough people that they come to me to seek retribution. Against you. You have no idea how much thankless damage control I have to do for your pathetic ass.”

Clearly, that jab had the opposite effect you intended. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes as he took another half step closer to you. “Are you implying you… protect me?” he asked slyly.

“Don’t fucking flatter yourself. I’m implying that I’m doing what I have to to keep Sister Imperator off my back.”

“But that is still protecting me from hexes and curses cast by the ones who let their feelings cloud the reality of the situation. And for the record, cara…” With another step forward he placed his hand on the shelf next to your shoulder, leaning in, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I make my intentions very clear.” You refused to acknowledge the way that made your stomach flip and your heart rate picked up speed.

You tried to take a step away from him, but were only met with shelves digging into your back. The crease in your forehead deepened as you clenched your jaw. It wasn’t until you saw his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips did your arms uncross from your chest as you pushed him to the side. “You’re an insufferable rompicoglioni (pain in the ass), you know that?” After turning your back on him, you only managed to get a few steps away before his next question stopped you in your tracks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it…” 

You tilted your head to the ceiling, your eyes shut, as you let out a deep breath. “Thought about what?” you asked through your still gritted teeth. He stayed silent. You shook your head and turned around to face him again. “Thought. About. What?” you practically growled your repeated question.

He stood there, leaning against the bookshelves, with his bottom lip seductively in between his teeth as he raised his eyebrows at you. “Do I really need to answer that question?” he chuckled. 

“I can’t fucking stand you,” you said as you turned to leave his stupid, smirking face behind you. Again, you didn’t get very far when you felt a gloved hand grab your wrist, his grip just tight enough to halt you and turn you to face him. 

“Have you ever thought why that is, streghetta mia (my little witch)?” he cooed, bringing his other hand to gently caress your cheek. 

“I am not your little—” you began defiantly until he interrupted you. His words suddenly became harsher, much more serious. 

“Rispondimi (answer me),” he demanded, his grip tightening on your wrist. His hand on your cheek went from a feather light touch, to forcefully grabbing the side of your neck, aiding in the way he pulled you to him so that almost no space remained between you. 

“I already told you why,” you said through your teeth. Your whole body tensed being this close to him. If it was a losing battle, you desperately tried to fight the lost cause of keeping your composure. His deliciously delicate Italian cologne didn’t affect you. The heat from his body didn’t affect you. How roughly he handled you definitely didn’t affect you. 

“No. I don’t think you did, because I don’t think you can admit the truth.” The intensity of his stare burned into you (but it absolutely did not affect you). He pulled you into the crook of his neck. Biting the inside of your cheek was the only way you could ground yourself, focus on the task at hand — not letting him win. He was so close to you that you could feel his lips moving against your ear as he murmured, “Everything you hate about me… is what you hate about yourself, amore.” 

You lost sight of him; all you could see was red. Twisting your wrist, you broke free from his grasp. Your hands flew up to his chest as you shoved him back. He stumbled slightly, bracing himself on the bookshelves. The amused half-smile on his face told you everything you needed to know: he was loving every second of this. “Seems I’ve struck a nerve, hm?”

“You fucking asshole! I am nothing like you.” The venom clinged to your words.

“You’re not? You don’t enjoy the company of others under the guise of tending to the flock when all you crave is real connection? You don’t flaunt your ‘power’ to make up for every inadequacy you feel about yourself?” He sauntered up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders as if the slightest movement would shatter you.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” you mumbled through barely parted lips. 

“How long are you going to keep telling yourself that, hm?” he purred, hooking his finger under your chin, which you pushed away. You tried to back away from him, but yet again, you were stopped by the bookshelf.

“If you’re so self aware, then why do you still act like a piece of shit?”

He leaned forward, putting a hand on either side of you, caging you in. “Because, streghetta, the only connection worth pursuing thinks I’m a pompous pain in the ass fucking asshole piece of shit figurehead with the reading ability of a four year old. Did I remember everything?” he smirked.

His mismatched eyes burned into yours. His white iris seemed to be almost glowing in the dim library light. The heat that was starting to burn in your center made you stay put. Your only movement came from your head quickly turning to the side as you heaved an insolent breath. Breaking eye contact was the only thing you could think of doing right now, but even that was short lived. He emphatically grabbed your face, silently ordering you to look at him, your cheeks smushing together between his thumb and index fingers. “I asked you a question. Stop being a brat and rispondimi,” he hissed.

“Kinda hard with my jaw in your hand,” you managed to mutter.

“I understood you just fine.” He pressed harder into your face. The longer you were silent, the more pressure he added.

“F-fine! Yes! That’s what I think of you, stronzo,” you spat. 

“Brava ragazza. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he praised softly. The back of his fingers returned to graze your cheek. 

You couldn’t help but press your lips into a thin line as you mulled over when he said “...the only connection worth pursuing…” 

“Thinking about what I said?” His hand slid down your neck to your collarbone.

“No,” you replied immediately. Your eyes quickly flitted up to the ceiling at how easily you gave yourself away, which earned you a light, airy laugh. “Wait. Yeah. If this is the ‘only connection worth pursuing’ then what’s taken you so long? Did you have to test out all the others to make sure it was the right choice?” 

“You’re too busy scowling at me to notice me noticing you.”

“No, not quite. Try again.”

“This is one of the very few times I’ve been able to catch you alone.”

“Oh, please. Your office is directly across from mine. And I have seen you on multiple occasions staring at me when your door is open,” you scoffed.

“And every time, before I can even think about getting up from my chair, you slam the door shut,” he countered, twirling a lock of your hair between his fingers. 

Swatting his hand away, you said, “Still not the real answer.”

“Then what is?” He let his hand fall to your shoulder and slowly began to cascade down your arm.

“You don’t think you’re good enough for someone like me.” With a challenging tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows, you watched as astounded annoyance clouded his eyes. “Yeah, two can play this game.” You straightened out the collar to his shirt and trailed your fingers down to adjust the top buttons with your eyes focused on your small task. They only looked back into his eyes when you mockingly added, “Caro.”

Finally, you struck a nerve. He took both your wrists and pinned them down beside you. “Before tonight’s over, I’ll show you I’m more than good enough for you.”

You tossed your head back as you laughed, craning your neck to watch his reaction. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’ve seen the way your conquests look when they leave your office. It doesn’t take a genius to know you’re a good fuck. It does, however, take a certain kind of person to notice how you never seem completely satisfied… like something’s missing…”

Pressing his body flush against yours, he leaned down and whispered, “Like I said earlier, amore, it’s the craving for real connection, which of course, you of all people would notice something like that.” You could feel the warmth of his breath dancing over a sensitive spot on your neck. “Because… you’re just… like… me…” he added breathlessly as he dragged his lips along your neck before he pulled himself away to stare into your eyes.

The desire pooling between your legs was inescapable. Your eyes darted from his to his lips before returning to the mismatched eyes that watched your every subtle movement. That was all the invitation he needed before he released your wrists to take your face in his hands as your lips crashed together. Just because you lost the battle didn’t mean you couldn’t win the war. 

Your hand flew to the nape of his neck where you threaded your fingers in his hair. He moaned into your mouth when you started pulling. Your other hand balled the fabric of his shirt at his hip into your fist. 

He broke the kiss only to leave a sloppy trail of kisses down our neck where he began to suck and nip at it. You let your head fall back and your grip in his hair tighten. He maneuvered himself so he was pressing his thigh between your legs and without a second thought, as a breathless moan escaped your lips, you began to rut against him. “I still… fucking hate you…” you panted. 

Before he could make his clever retort, your heads turned towards the sound of the door opening. You could hear the light sound click-clacking of heels on the floor below. Terzo couldn’t even get his suggestion out before you pushed him off you, taking his hands in yours and leading him deeper into the library. He eyed you curiously, an impish grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.  

When the sounds of the other patrons faded, you slammed back against a random stack and pulled him against you, assuming your previous formation. “Are you sure you want to do this here?” he asked in between open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

“I wouldn’t have dragged you over here if I wasn’t.”

His gaze lingered over you as if to double check you were telling the truth. He nodded once. “Bene. Safe word?”

“Rigatoni.” He tilted his head at you, a quizzical look on his face. “What? Do you prefer ziti?”

“No, just an… interesting choice.”

“Non verbal is two taps and a pinch, but first,” you said as you held his wrist one hand and started taking off one of his gloves in the other, “the Mickey Mouse gloves are coming off.” His eyes narrowed into slits as he let you remove his gloves, placing them in his back pocket. You gave his ass a hard slap when you were done, leaning back on the stack behind you, with an exaggerated and triumphant smile on your face. 

Taking your face in his now bare hand, he held it like he did just moments ago. He put his other hand beside your head, pressing his body into your and leaning forward, “I’m not going to hold back, streghetta.” He lowered his voice, making it sound husky and gravelly. He let go of you, roughly pushing your head to the side as he did so.

“Good. Don’t want you to,” you paused before you giggled, doing your best Mickey Mouse impersonation. 

That earned you a smack across the face. It wouldn’t leave a mark, but you felt the sting go straight down to your core. You looked up at him with a daring smirk. 

You could see the anger ice over his eyes. His features darkened. “Be careful what you wish for.”

You yanked him toward you, your fists grabbing his shirt as leverage as you purred in his ear, “Do your worst, papino.” 

His hand wrapped around your bicep so tightly, you knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow. He dragged you through the aisles of books to the study area. He let go of you only for a moment to turn you away from him as he pushed you down onto the table in front of you. Biting your lip, you pressed your thighs together, needing some semblance of relief. 

Mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk, of course he noticed. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. You heard the faint clinking of a belt buckle and the slide of leather. Using his knee, he nudged your legs away from each other. “Brats like you don’t get anything until they’ve been properly punished.” You chewed on your lip as he folded his belt, allowing for him to have more control. 

The brisk air hit the back of your legs as he lifted your maxi skirt up, exposing yourself to him. He put the belt in his mouth, freeing his hands, so he could yank your panties off you. Your ankle lifted off the ground, causing you to throw one of your hands to the edge of the table to save your balance. The belt went into his left hand, he placed it beside you as he leaned over you, pressing his still clothed erection into your bare ass. “Mmm, you say you hate me so much and yet here you are, already so fucking wet for me.” Not giving you any chance to make a smart ass comment, he shoved your underwear into your mouth. 

Pushing off of you, he caressed your ass like he was mapping out where the belt would strike you. He went from the left corner down to the right, being mindful enough not to even graze your cunt, giving no reprieve whatsoever. Then he repeated the motion going from the right corner down to the left. 

Thwack!

Without warning, the belt made contact with your skin. Tears instantly sprang in your eyes, having been taken by surprise. The force of the blow made you cry out, but the sound was muffled; it just sounded like a poor excuse of a whimper.

“Still think you can handle this, streghetta mia?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you nodded – your tone still defiant.

Thwack!

You were actually thankful for the makeshift gag in your mouth, which gave you something to bite down on as you took the pain.

“If I had known–” thwack! “ –That this is what it took–” thwack! “ –to get you to shut your goddamn smart ass mouth up–” thwack! “ –I would have done this so much sooner.” Thwack!

He leaned over you again, this time pressing a kiss to your shoulder before asking if you were okay. Blinking tears away, you nodded. You were more than okay. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I’m completely convinced…” he mused as he stood up. Just as you went to loosen the white knuckle grip you had on the table’s edge, you felt his thumb trail down from your taint, through your folds, and onto your clit, which he circled twice. You moaned loudly. “Mmm,” you could hear him sucking your arousal off his finger, “yes, you are doing quite alright.”

You practically squealed when suddenly one of his fingers slid right inside you. He wasted no time finding the spot that could make you scream. You whined when he removed himself from you, but it was only to flip you over onto your back. Without thinking, your leg hooked around his waist, anchoring him to you. He looked down at you, smirking, before he plunged his middle and ring fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled back with your head that rested on the table. Your back arched.

And then he began the assault of pressure; his fingers curled up, furiously tapping on your sweet spot. You swear you had never been this wet for anyone before. The noises coming from your cunt only made you clench harder around his fingers. His movements were so hard and so fast, you were almost being lifted off of the table. You were so close, so close. Despite the makeshift gag, you were screaming. Just as the coil in your core was about to snap, he was gone. Your eyes snapped open, wide with rage. Instantly you sat up. If looks could kill, he would have been dead at your feet.

“Stand up. Get on your knees.” For the first time tonight, you followed his instruction, but that was where your obedience ended.

“Figlio di puttana del cazzo (you fucking son of a bitch!)!” you snarled, looking up at him, after throwing the gag to the side. 

Shaking his head, he gathered your hair into a ponytail, tugging your head back. You earned your second slap of the night. He undid and took off his pants, tossing them haphazardly to the side. You watched as his leaking cock sprung out. At the sight of it, your mouth immediately began to water. “If you can stop being a fucking brat and actually put your mouth to good use, then maybe you’ll get a reward,” he seethed. He shoved two of his fingers into the corners of your mouth. “Open.”

There was no getting used to him. In what felt like mere milliseconds, his length was down your throat. The only thing you could think of, for just a fraction of relief, was to open your jaw as wide as you possibly could, but even that wasn’t enough. He held your hair like he was holding on for dear life, deep growls rumbled from his chest. With every thrust you could feel whatever leftover animosity he had towards you pouring into you. 

A near constant stream of tears cascaded down your face. You could barely see his smirk as you gagged around him. Abruptly, he stopped, pulling himself away from your mouth. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. “Get up,” he commanded as he pulled you up by your hair. He only let go when you were standing. “Back on the table. On your back.” You relished the break, taking your time to do as you were told. He stayed looking down at you, a lust-crazed look on his face. Expectantly, you looked back up at him, waiting for whatever he had planned next. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he slid you to him so your head was hanging off the table. “Apri (open),” he breathed. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you braced yourself for the second onslaught that never came. He slowly slid himself into your mouth, down your throat. You let the spit you saved from before getting on the table bubble up around him. This angle was a bit easier for you to take him. He used your ribs as leverage to thrust in and out of your mouth. A moan floated from his lips as his eyes closed, letting himself get lost in his own pleasure. You placed your hands on the back of his thighs. His lips curled over his teeth as he moaned again when you dug your nails into him. “Satanas, sei bella (you’re beautiful),” he murmured. Dragging his hands up, he wrapped them around your neck as he kept thrusting down into your mouth.

“Cazzo,” he groaned as he could feel himself in your throat. By this point, you said to hell with your gag reflex. It was easy to ignore while he incessantly fucked your face. He was slightly less aggressive with your neck bent over the edge of the table, his pace slower. As if savoring every inch of the feel of you, he pushed himself into you until your lips curled around his base. You couldn’t help, but moan. “Lucifer, fucking hell,” he growled. He repeated this a few more times before he backed away from you again, his breathing growing labored. You never took your eyes away from his as you spun around and got off the table. 

Kneeling in front of him again, you looked up at him with your tear-stained face and doe eyes sparkling. You started stroking his length before you took him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his swollen tip. Then you licked down his shaft until you took his balls in your mouth, gently sucking on them. He groaned as his head fell back. After you licked back up his length, teasingly slow, and took him back in your mouth did you begin bobbing your head up and down. When you moaned again, his hands tangled in your hair again. This time it wasn’t to cause you pain, but to find purchase and ground himself. “Fuck,” he hissed. He was close. You could see it. You could feel it. So you took his hips in your hands, digging your nails into his flesh. Looking up at him, you subtly nodded to him. His fingers curled and pulled at your hair. He sloppily thrusted into your face again and soon you felt his hot seed spilling down the back of your throat as he cried out.

He slumped forward somewhat as his high waned. You stood up, making sure to catch his dichromatic gaze as you did. You wiped the corner of your mouth and swallowed every drop he had given you. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you feverishly. As you gripped his wrists, he pulled you to him, pushing you back toward the stacks of books behind you until they met your back. You eyed him hungrily as your hands reached for his shirt, your nimble fingers sliding down as you unbuttoned it. Not even bothering to shove it all the way off him, you let your hands explore his chest. The only thing you heard was each other's heaving panting. He was on your lips again the second you made eye contact with each other, his tongue diving down your throat, doing an exploration of its own.

You moaned as you hooked your leg up on his hip, pulling him even closer to you. Resting his forehead on yours, he held your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “Time for a reward, sì? La mia brava ragazza (my good girl),” he cooed softly as he sank down on his knees. 

Your breath got caught in your throat as he lifted up your skirt to dive under it. “Oh fuck,” you breathed as he dragged his nails up your thighs. Throwing your leg over his shoulder, he dove right in, his tongue lapping up your wetness seeping from your slit. You moaned again as his nose nudged your clit and his tongue dipped inside you. Your right hand grabbed at his hair under your skirt while your left was sliding up and around on the shelves behind you as you tried to find the best angle to help keep yourself propped up. 

Taking his tongue out of you, he dragged it up to your bundle of nerves that were desperate for attention and started to suck on it as his tongue swirled around it. “Shit, s-shit!” you cried out. “Right… th-there. F-fuck. Fuck, Terzo. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

His ministrations stopped, but only to shove two of fingers inside you. You mewled loudly; it didn’t matter if anyone was nearby or not. They could enjoy the free show at this point. Just as he had before, he was hitting your g-spot as if this was the thousandth time. You were seeing stars, but what you wanted to see… was him. “W-wait, wait, stop!” you panted. You were so close, you couldn’t finish just yet. You tapped him twice and he stopped before you could pinch him. He rushed out from your skirt, a confused look on his face that glistened from your arousal. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said as you discarded your skirt. “I want to watch. I want to watch you make me cum,” you said lustfully as you perched your leg back onto his shoulder. Your hand threaded into his hair, holding on tightly as he resumed where he had left off. This time, his pace returned to that of the first time he had you like this. You bucked into his face, adding even more friction. “Holy fuck, yes. Terzo, please, don’t stop. P-please. Fuck! There! Yes! I’m cumming! I’m–” 

Removing his fingers from you, he aggressively rubbed your clit. You opened your eyes just in time to see him get showered with your juices as they streamed out of you. And that man lapped it up like it was his first drink of water after a hike in the desert. You sunk back into the stack behind you as he looked up at you through wet lashes. He looked like he got caught in the beginning of a downpour – and it was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Maybe you should fuck the people you hate more often if this was the result, because… this was still hatred you felt burning inside you. It had to be…

Afraid your shaky legs would give out on you if you tried to move, you stayed frozen in place. At some point your hand attached to Terzo was helping keep you upright on the shelving behind you. He stood up in front of you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. When you were secure in his hold, his finger hooked under your chin, directing your hazy eyes to him. “Can you give me one more, amore?” he softly asked you. Eagerly, you nodded. He tilted his head, giving you a warning look. “Is la streghetta at a loss for words?”

“Yes,” you said, still nodding. “One more.”

“Va bene (okay), hard or easy?”

Your eyes darkened as more lust flared up in them again. “Don’t take it easy on me.” His lips curved up into a half smile that turned into a menacing smirk. 

A sharp gasp fell from your lips as he spun you around so you were facing the books in front of you. One hand reached in front of you, circling the sensitive bud between your legs. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, while his other hand encapsulated your throat. “Do you still hate me?” he questioned through his teeth as his hips bucked up into you, using your ass to provide himself with the friction he needed. 

“Yes,” you moaned wantonly. 

You felt his breathy laugh on your ear as his grip tightened around your neck. The blood supply being cut off shot pangs of heat right down to your center just as he removed his hand from there. The whine you were about to make died in your throat as you felt him dragging his cock through your still sopping folds. With a squeeze to your throat, and a bite to your shoulder, he pushed himself inside you. You wanted to be so irritated at how perfectly he filled you up, how your walls stretched to accommodate him, but you couldn’t, at least not right now. Not when it felt so good. Most of all, there was no hiding it from him. Not when the pornographic sounds were spilling out of you. The war was lost way before it even began.

At first, his thrusts were slow. It was like he was committing how you felt around him to memory. You mewled when he hit that perfect sweet spot. And then came the attack. 

With steady rhythm, he mercilessly pounded into you. Sounds of skin slapping skin, your unrelenting moans, the heaviness of both your breathing, filled the room. There was nothing else going on in the world, not in that moment. In that moment, there was just you. And there was just him. Coupled with the feeling of ecstasy. All you could do was claw at the shelves in front of you.

You felt the coil tightening again. With your head still back on his shoulder, you could feel your legs growing weak. His arm enclosed around you. His forearm pressing against your lower abdomen introduced a new sensation of pleasure that turned your vision white. Or maybe that just from the way his hand was still constricting around your throat. Probably both, but whatever the cause was, you didn’t care. 

“A-aga– I– I’m–” was all you managed to say as you felt even more of your juices gush from between your legs. He bit down onto your shoulder again as he moaned wantonly with it. You could feel he was about to pull out of you, probably to release his spend on your face, but you managed to wrap your arm around his back, letting him know to stay in place. 

With his erratic thrusts your arm fell. The overstimulation made it so the only words you could get out were “Inside. Cum inside.” As if on command, you could feel him emptying himself into you, filling you with his seed. After his hips stopped, you both stayed as you were. The hand on your throat slid down and across your waist as he held you there. He supported you as you put your weight back on him and your hands covered his. 

Time stood still as you both caught your breath. Once your breathing returned to semi-normal, did he finally pull out of you. You sighed at the feeling of emptiness.

Hesitantly, you stepped forward. You felt shaky (in the best possible way), but you weren’t going to fall over. “Hold on, amore.” You heard him whisper as you folded your arms on the shelf in front of you and rested your head on them. You hummed in response, staying where you were. You closed your eyes, basking in the blissful peace that was settling over you.

Behind you, you could hear the rustling of his clothes and his footsteps as he walked back over to you. In your near boneless state, you didn’t even register the absolute mess that was dripping from you until you felt soft fabric between your legs. You looked down to see Terzo cleaning you up with one of his gloves. 

“See? These Mickey Mouse gloves are good for something,” he teased.

You let out a genuine laugh. “Grazie,” you said tenderly. 

“That’s as good as we can get for now,” he said once he finished, punctuating his sentence with a couple light pats on your ass.

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and shook your head as you turned to go put your skirt back on. He followed suit. As you were smoothing out your outfit, he was doing the last few buttons on his shirt. You surveyed the scene around you. “I kinda feel bad for the Ghoul that has to clean this up,” you giggled. 

Terzo just smirked at you as he put his arm around your shoulders, guiding you both out of the library at a very leisurely pace. Wrapping your arm around his waist you said, “For the record, I still hate you.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Has anyone ever told you that you are very stubborn, principessa (princess)?” 

“Nope, never,” you said with an exaggerated smile. 

His light laughter was cut short when you both noticed someone grumbling with their head down as they headed towards you. "Buonasera, fratello. Little late for a library visit, no?”

Secondo looked up at the sound of his brother’s voice. You could see his eyes scanning over the two of you, taking in the disheveled sight. The annoyed look permanently etched on his face deepened. “I could say the same to the both of you.” 

“I was minding my own business before this stronzo bothered me,” you said.

“Bothered is a funny way to put it, principessa,” Terzo grinned.

“Why are you here this late, Secondo?” you quickly asked in hopes of preventing Terzo from saying an offhand comment. The way one of Secondo’s eyebrows raised in suspicion wasn’t lost on you.

“An uncrossing spell. One of the Ghouls fucked up. Again,” he glowered. “And it’s falling to me to fix, since someone was unreachable.”

You tugged at Terzo to start walking again, too tired to deal with Secondo’s disgruntledness. “Of course, they did. Well, just, um, don’t go too far past the restricted section.” You and Terzo exchanged a look before picking up your pace. “Buonasera!” you added without looking behind you. 

Secondo saw both yours and Terzo’s shoulders shaking with laughter. He just shocked his head as he continued getting the book he needed. “About fucking time…” he grumbled.

[astersofthesky]

I have been so used to hearing L's dub voice in my head (whenever i read fics) and also whenever I watch clips that it genuinely shocked me when i heard the "I am L" scene in japanese and how different they sounded alongside the implications in the attitude of their characters.

L's sub voice holds a natural polite tone normal for the japanese whilst maintaining an air of professionalism and authority. His tone does not sound "condescending" too when he told the task force about how they would've died if he was kira. It was respectful although you can hear the slight disappointment in his voice, as if he's trying not to let it shown out of tact.

Additionally, the way jpn sub! L spoke the "Let's show Kira that we're willing to risk our lives, because justice will prevail." scene sounds encouraging to say the least. He was clearly driven by personal reasons ("But I will win in the end.") but even so, he was speaking in a "we" sense, like he was giving the task force some acknowledgement for their efforts and then pushing them to do better in the investigation.

The dubbed version of this scene, on the other hand, gives a feeling that L like meeting and working with the task force is more of a "chore" rather than of extra help. The perpetually tired tone of dub!L made the "Please don't give out your names so casually." scene translate to "Gosh, they're so stupid." It's both mockery and a warning. Atleast, that's how I interpreted it.

He lets his authority known by the task force without coating it. For example, the "I want to show kira that we're all risking our lives if that's what it takes, because justice will prevail no matter what" scene is very authoritative. Note on the emphasis on "I WANT," like L's telling the team "Yes, we will but under MY orders."

Now this isn't a hate on the death note dub version. I loved the dubbed voice for L and i do believe it also fits him. You could say I was just surprised at how a slight change of tone and delivery could change a scene so much.

[nikethestatue]

Having been in this fandom for a long time, I think what's become apparent--and I think that's where most of our problems stem from--is that PERSONAL INTERPRETATION has become the default thing to fall back onto, and consequently, it's been used over and over again to negate or disregard the author's INTENT, because it doesn't align with personal preference. Consequently, people began being duped into believing that a reader's personal interpretation of text is 'right' and that canon doesn't matter and that SJM's own intention don't matter as well.

Here are some examples:

Did SJM INTENDED for Cassian to be a terrible mate who will sell Nesta for a chicken nugget if Rhys tells him to? Was the intent to show how poor Nessian pairing is?

OR

Is it just that Cassian did not live up to the readers' own expectations of what they wanted for Nesta? And is their interpretation of Cassian as an awful match for Nesta, who doesn't care about her, only cares about sex, and would never stand up for her or support her, actually correct?

Did SJM INTENDED for Gwyn's scenes in ACOSF to be romantic towards Azriel? Was her cutting the ribbon or climbing or running a prelude to the great Gwynriel romance novel?

OR

Is it that Gwyn was created to be a springboard for Nesta's self-discovery and healing? Someone who accepted, supported and encouraged Nesta when Nesta was at her lowest? And did many readers' animosity towards Elain's characters drove them to willfully interpret absolutely non-romantic scenes as romantic in a futile hope that somehow, their personal wants would translate to page?

Did SJM intended for Rhys and Feyre to be viewed as ignorant despots who hate their own people, only care about wealth and power, and don't give a damn about anyone but themselves and their five houses?

OR

Is Rhys's love for Feyre the driving force behind many of his decisions? for example giving her an extravagant house? Does Rhys really want to trample on everyone's rights, or is he allowing some of his subjects the freedom of autonomy and self-actualization? Is the intent to show that he is a thoughtful and imperfect leader, who cares about the welfare of his people, or is that he is a dictator who gave his lover an empty title?

While SJM's execution of certain topics isn't perfect, I think that wilful ignorance and the desire to see something that isn't there, and something that SJM didn't intended at all, is really the cause of all the shipwars and the IC hate.

Is SJM REALLY in love with Lucien and is excited to write his book, or is that the fantasy of his stans? Whereas SJM's never been particularly complimentary towards Lucien and his character in interviews or in canon?

Will Tamlin's elusive 'redemption arc' REALLY be something that SJM is interested in writing? Or her calling him a 'douchebag' is kind of indicative of her feelings towards him?

"Elriels are obsessed with canon'. We heard this again and again and again. Being obsessed with canon' simply means that we are paying attention to what SJM's intentions are and what she wants to convey through her words. Elriels, just like everyone else have headcanons about Elain, and Az, and Elriel. But we don't discard the actual books and writing in favour of our headcanons.

I feel that lack of consideration towards 'intent' is really leading some people down a very slippery road, where at the end of it, they'll find a lot of crushed dreams. Because most of the time, 'black' is just....black. It's not white. It's not even opaque. It's just, black. I think people should remember that when they do their 'analysis'.

[andhumanslovedstories]

hello this is kind of heavy and no pressure at all to answer. and apologies because im sure you must have answered this before. but do you go through like a pain management flow chart for your patients and if so what are some of the steps? my dad is having some medical issues and i want to be able to help him manage his pain as much as i can. thank you and enjoy wasteland!

I work in a hospital setting so my pain management care plan is part of an interdisciplinary team in that setting. It's relatively easy for me to get, say, IV pain meds for a patient with extreme breakthrough pain. I don't know how well my approach would translate outside of that setting, I'm not palliative care trained, and I don't personally deal with chronic or acute pain (which is why I'm answering this publicly so other people can chime in), but in broad strokes:

First: Define pain. What type of pain is it? Muscle pain? Indigestion? Neuropathy? Surgical site? Stiffness from lack of movement? Is part of the pain also the fear of the pain? Sometimes when pain has been bad for a long time, or even has been bad in a short-term but very notable way, the idea of hurting that bad again is traumatizing. That fear of pain can, unfortunately, make you focus more on the pain you're feeling because now it's not just the physical sensation of pain, it's also the psychological impact of it.

Then, how does the pain affect you? Is it stopping you from sleeping? Is it stopping you from eating? Is it making you short-tempered or depressed? Does it make it difficult to focus on things? Does it make you nauseated? Anxious? Isolated? Do you feel like you need to hide it from those who care about you?

Everything pain is and affects is a place where you can intervene. Some of these interventions will be very small and would, if they were the only intervention, feel completely inadequate. Pain relief is rarely "you do one thing and you're done." You're addressing pain on multiple fronts, and sometimes that doesn't mean your focus isn't just the reduction of pain but the restoration of what pain has taken away. It's possible the worst part of pain for you isn't the pain itself but, for example, the immobility it causes. Are there different ways you can learn to move? Can you get a grabber? Can you get a shower chair? Can you find physical therapy exercises that help you regain strength or stop you from deconditioning to the degree you're able? What mobility aids might restore movement to you?

And if returning mobility is not possible at this time or ever, how can you modify your environment to support you? Can you figure out what bothers you the most about that immobility and mitigate that? If it's annoying that not being able to leave bed makes you bored, what can be within arm's reach? If it's frustrating that being too painful to move means you feel isolated from other people, can you make wherever you are more central? If pain makes having your bed on the second floor unfeasible, can you move your bed to the first floor? How can you adapt the environment around you?

I'd encourage movement too, to the degree it is possible. Being in the same position HURTS. If it feels good to stretch but you can't do it by yourself, can someone help you with range of motion? (You can look up "passive range of motion" to get an idea of how to do that.) This doesn't need to be exercising, just exploring the joy of moving your body. Related to movement is physical touch. I love lotions and medicated creams for pain patients because you can turn them into massages. Just be careful with pressure and be open about what hurts and what feels good. At the most gentle end of the spectrum is something called the M Technique which isn't even massage, it's like guided gentle touch. Give the body something else to feel.

Different medications work better with different types of pain. This part is hard to talk about in general because of the specificity of some pain med regiments. Tylenol is great, but be cautious with how much you are taking (acetaminophen overdoses are no joke) and remember that there's a point where more tylenol doesn't mean more pain relief. Opioids are great, but they can be very dangerous and aren't well-indicated for a lot of types of chronic pain. Even if opioids work best, I'd encourage you to be working on pain reduction on multiple fronts, as opioids are so controlled, it is easy to lose access to them. If opioids give you enough pain relief to do physical therapy, then make sure to do that physical therapy. Medications are amazing and I love them and I give out PRNs like crazy, but similarly to how I can't just take my depression meds and stop being depressed, pain medication works best in conjunction with other strategies. Those other strategies though can literally be something like "tramadol takes away the pain enough I can focus on something, and what I want to do with that focus is to watch a movie I've been meaning to rewatch for a while now but haven't had the spoons for." Sometimes all you will want to do when you get pain meds is sleep because you can't when you're hurting. Sleep is wonderful; how can you arrange your sleeping place and habits to make sleeping even more of a delight?

And if you find a medication that works, use it consistently. It is always easy to keep pain level than it is to address a pain spike. Don't wait until symptoms are at their worst to address them. Figure out what it feels like when your symptoms are ramping up, and intervene early.

Sometimes medications that aren't explicitly for pain can still help. If anxiety makes pain worse, consider an anxiety medication. If coughing hurts, can you get a numbing spray from your throat to make it less sensitive so you cough less?

I don't know how useful this is to you and your family. Hopefully it's at least something to think about. Think about palliative care (which is about the management of symptoms of illnesses rather than the treatment of illnesses) as not just taking away bad sensations but restoring good ones. You can't always get someone to a place with no pain. But what can you do to enhance life in the presence of that pain? There is a psychological aspect to pain, it's a parasite that drains you and makes you feel like you are nothing but a body that hurts and won't stop hurting. I want to make clear, I'm not saying pain is only in your mind. Bone mets and nerve pain exist whether you're cheerful about it or not. But pain doesn't have to mean suffering, it doesn't have to take away the things that make you you. Address pain through medication and therapies, but also remember that protecting, promoting, and prioritizing the parts of yourself that you most value and give you the most joy will help give your life so much substance that pain can't rob it all. You aren't doing one big thing. You are doing a thousand small things that make life easier, better, more suited to yourself and your abilities, and more aligned with the parts of life that you that give your life meaning.

(And a note in particular for being the family member of someone in pain--ultimately, they are going through this alone. It is their body. What can you make smoother for them? How can you protect their dignity and their privacy without making them feel abandoned or alone? How can you make it so your reaction to their pain is not part of their burden? Like for the six hundred other hypothetical questions in this endless post, the answers will be highly personal and will take time to figure out. Be patient and calm.)

[journeythroughjourneytothewest]

Hello and Welcome!

This is a blog dedicated to Journey to the West, where anyone interested may join in and follow along in a journey through Wu Cheng’en’s classic. This reading group will be focused on the Anthony C. Yu English translation, which the ever-interesting @journeytothewestresearch has helped provide completely free to download and read as pdfs! The link can be found below:

https://journeytothewestresearch.com/2019/06/07/archive-10-journey-to-the-west-2012-revised-edition/

In full awareness that everyone has their own busy lives and differing schedules, this reading group is working off of a “do-as-you-want” model. Everyone is welcome to submit their analysis, art, reactions, memes, criticisms, additions of context, etc. as we make our way through the journey, but there is no pressure but to have fun with the work!

That said, there is a reading schedule. This reading group has now made it through Volume 1 of this classic, and will start up Volume 2 on February 11, 2024. The reading schedule encourages all interested to read one JTTW chapter per week. This group then "meets" every Sunday, which is be the day participants are encouraged to finish that week's chapter and/or submit their creative/analytical pieces about it. Sunday will also be the day where I will give a quick recap of that week's chapter, and will mass reblog anything participants submitted to have that work in the archive. Again, this blog has now made it through Volume 1, and will start keeping to the reading schedule for Volume 2 starting February 11, so please have read “Chapter 26: Amid the Three Islands Sun Wukong seeks a cure; With sweet dew Guanshiyin revives a tree,” by then. You’ll find the reading schedule for Volume 2 below, and while not necessary I do encourage everyone to give a look at Yu’s introduction to this text in Volume 1 as well.

I want to end by stressing that it is completely understandable that new members would be concerned about joining after the reading schedule has officially started, and indeed after we have made it through the first volume. As such, I want to confirm that while this group encourages people to send in their submissions on Sunday for the chapter covered that week, you should feel completely free to both submit your stuff on any day of the week that’s best for you, as well as to send in art, memes, analysis, commentary, etc. for every chapter that has already been covered according to the reading schedule. In other words, all I’m going to ask is that your “late” submissions are in line with what happens in Volume 1 and/or chapters in Volume 2 that the group has already read as laid out in the reading schedule below. So for example you should feel free to submit the sketches you made about Chapters 26, 27, 28, and 29 on the Monday-Saturday of the week following the Sunday this book club finished Chapter 29, but please save your meme about Chapter 30 for the Sunday that chapter was scheduled to be read. So start, read, and submit as you can!

Thank you and thank you again to anyone who wants to participate and to everyone who has already expressed so much enthusiasm and contributed so much to this reading group! I’m very happy and excited to continue this literary pilgrimage with you all.

---

Journey to the West Volume 2 Reading Schedule

February 11-Chapter 26: Amid the Three Islands Sun Wukong seeks a cure; With sweet dew Guanshiyin revives a tree

February 18-Chapter 27: The cadaver demon three times mocks Tripitaka Tang; The holy monk in spite banishes Handsome Monkey King

February 25-Chapter 28: At Flower-Fruit Mountain a pack of fiends hold assembly; At the Black Pine Forest Tripitaka meets demons

March 03-Chapter 29: Free of his peril, River Float arrives at the kingdom; Receiving favor, Eight Rules invades the forest

March 10-Chapter 30: A deviant demon attacks the true Dharma; The Horse of the Will recalls Mind Monkey.

March 17-Chapter 31: Zhu Eight Rules provokes the Monkey King to chivalry; Pilgrim Sun with wisdom defeats the monster

March 24-Chapter 32: On Level-Top Mountain the sentinel brings a message; At Lotus-Flower Cave Wood Mother meets disaster

March 31-Chapter 33: Heresy deludes the True Nature; Primal Spirit helps the Native Mind

April 07-Chapter 34: The demon king's plotting entraps Mind Monkey; The Great Sage, ever adroit, wangles the treasures

April 14-Chapter 35: Heresy uses power to oppress the proper Nature; Mind Monkey, bagging treasures, conquers deviate demons

April 21-Chapter 36: When Mind Monkey is rectified, the nidanas cease; Smash through the side door to view the bright moon

April 28-Chapter 37: The ghost king visits Tripitaka Tang at night; Wukong, through wondrous transformation, leads the child

May 05-Chapter 38: The child queries his mother to learn of deviancy and truth; metal and wood, reaching the deep, see the false and the real

May 12-Chapter 39: One pellet of cinnabar elixir found in Heaven; a king, dead three years, lives again on Earth

May 19-Chapter 40: The child's playful transformations confuse the Chan Mind; Ape, horse, Spatula gone, Wood Mother, too, is lost

May 26-Chapter 41: Mind Monkey is defeated by fire; Wood Mother is captured by demons

June 02-Chapter 42: The Great Sage diligently calls at South Sea; Guanyin with compassion binds the Red Boy

June 09-Chapter 43: An evil demon at Black River captures the monk; The Western Ocean's dragon prince catches the iguana

June 16-Chapter 44: The Dharma-body in primal cycle meets the force of the cart; the mind, righting monstrous deviates, crosses the spine-ridge pass

June 23-Chapter 45: At the Three Pure Ones Abbey the Great Sage leaves his name; At the Cart Slow Kingdom the Monkey King shows his power

June 30-Chapter 46: Heresy flaunts its strength to mock orthodoxy; Mind Monkey in epiphany slays the deviates

July 07-Chapter 47: The holy monk's blocked at night at Heaven-Reaching River; Metal and Wood, in compassion, rescue little children

July 14-Chapter 48: The demon, raising a cold wind, sends a great snow fall; The monk, intent on seeing Buddha, walks on layered ice

July 21-Chapter 49: Tripitaka meets disaster and sinks to a water home; To bring salvation, Guanyin reveals a fish basket

July 28-Chapter 50: Nature follows confused feelings through lust and desire; Faint spirit and moved mind meet a demon chief

[will-o-the-witch]

Jewish Angel Work

I don't see a bunch of writing about angel work in general, and what I do find is often heavily Christianized! I wanted to talk about what angel work can look like from a Jewish perspective.

(Gentiles may interact and enjoy, but understand that this is for educational purposes and not an invitation to appropriate! 🤍)

A Jewish-Specific Perspective

Judaism views angels in ways other traditions may not share! Some examples:

Angels aren't former humans. They are their own distinct beings just like demons, cows, land spirits and butterflies. People who pass away, even children, are not considered "angels returning home." These angels have specific forms and looks depending on the type, some more humanoid than others.

Angels don't have free will. This does not mean they are held hostage or can't have their own personalities, but their will is an extension of HaShem's Will, serving a specific role in making that Will manifest. Kind of like employees in a corporation doing their tasks!

They don't have names. Or at least, they don't have names we're supposed to know or ask for. They may be incomprehensible to humans, or maintaining a level of anonymity as to not distract from HaShem. Either way, asking for a name is often discouraged in traditional texts.

They AREN'T all here to help you. While it all serves a Divine Will and is therefore Good in the grand scheme of things, many angels serve completely neutral functions from a human perspective. Some could even be considered harmful to humans, the most prominent example being HaSatan. (Even still, HaSatan isn't seen as a true villain. He's just doing his job.)

Some of them are ONLY here to help you! Historical Rabbis were big on the concept of guardian angels. The Talmud says "Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over it and whispers, 'Grow, grow.'" (Midrash Rabba, Bereshit 10:6.) Every living creature, including you, has a guardian angel to help you along your path. Some translations say the angels hit the grass, and that's not the only story of angels smacking things, so that guidance isn't always gentle, but it's always in the right direction.

Types of Angel Work

Spirit guides. Like mentioned above, guardian angels can help encourage you to "Grow! Grow!" and keep you on a path in line with spiritual health and lovingkindness.

Communing with HaShem. Gd is extremely esoteric. Angels help us send and recieve messages in an easier-to-conceptualize way! Meditation and prayer can also play into this. Beyond every-day applications, angels can also appear unexpectedly with important messages.

Communicating with other spirits. As angels are often messengers, I also think it's helpful to call upon their aid when working with other spirits!

Working with angels of various functions. Modern day Rabbis often marry angelic theology with scientific phenomena, with angels overseeing the process. By that extent, we could ask those angels for help/guidance when relevant!

Protection. Psalm 91, often recited for protection, depicts HaShem commanding angels on your behalf to guard you in all ways. One bedtime prayer names the four archangels to surround us.

Shalom Aleichem is traditionally sung on Friday nights before Shabbat dinner. It invites angels of peace to basically come and hang out with us during shabbat, then to leave in peace once shabbat is over. Many arrangements also make a good lullaby.

Other Notes

Metatron (מֶטָטְרוֹן) is a specifically-Jewish angel who gets appropriated a lot in spiritual circles. He does not appear in the Tanakh, but is mentioned in the Talmud and largely fleshed out in kabbalistic literature! (Islamic literature does mention him by different name, ميططرون, Mitatrun/Mitatrush. Solidarity.)Lots of people recognize Lilith as closed, but the same attention hasn't been given to Metatron. He's a very complex and ambiguous figure worth a whole post of his own so I won't get into it here!

This post is by no means comprehensive! This is just a very "quick" overview of a very rich field of study.

Further Study

On My Right Michael, On My Left Gabriel: Angels in Ancient Jewish Culture-- Mika Ahuvia

A Gathering of Angels: Angels in Jewish Life and Literature-- Morris B. Margolies

Ascending Jacob's Ladder: Jewish Views of Angels, Demons, and Evil Spirits-- Ronald H. Isaacs