I just want to see more black girls in period pieces, I wanna see black women as queen dripping in diamonds and fancy dresses. I want them have making dramatic entrances and running around castles and shit I WANT MOR BLACK WOMEN IN PERIOD PIECES DAMNIT
Innocents licking the clouds
Through the silence was heard a magnificent wind
That raged across the horizon
Our love started with a wink and ended in shame
Your heart is crocheting tangible dreams
Lost in the temple of the Holy Ghost
Behold the grudge in this temples of necrophiliac lust
There are skeletons sexting in roses beds
Irises bones caressing your mouth you vomit offensive cum
Queen blood dripping across the guillotine
Innocents hanged above the clouds
It’s calculating. It’s plotting moves. It’s wondering just
how many steps of his the Rat King has plotted of his to know how far he needs
to jump. He’s coming , the man knows that for certain. He took the one piece the
King needs to be strong. Hell would sooner rise to claim earth than him falling
over defeated, however.
Time. They need so much time Chuuya
Time is what it takes to gather forces, get everyone where they need to be and
cooperating. He’s snapped…he doesn’t know how many times when the bickering starts.
It’s not what they have time for when every tick, tick, tick of the clock he
knows to be another drip, drip, drip of his Queen’s blood to plague infested
soil. It’s bad enough watching his
princes actually get along, watching his princess attempt to handle a mental
break down because she knows the danger and he can’t put her in it. The shock
of seeing enemies come together to help him. He’s never felt so cold and ready
to die for someone…it’s like a certain event all over again but he can’t lose
this one. He can’t lose another person like this. Not to Fyodor, not to Yumeno…no.
This was just a game to them but this was his beloved’s life.
A life that meant living another day to him, a life that kept him grounded and
human and here he was feeling less and less so as all the emotions rose and he
couldn’t process them, shut them down to think. Think, think, think, calculate
and plot the perfect placement for each body. Minimal casualties. He needs to
bring everyone home. Even Yumeno. He needs him out of The Rat Kinds hand. He’s
not a pawn for him. He’d rather he be Mori’s toy than Fyodors. No… More than
that he wants the kid to get help. That…that was if he made it out.
If Dazai even made it out to drag his ass out.
“Mon petit feu… it’s far too cold without you by my side again…” It was soft, Soseki gave him a look all too
concerned and ushered him back to the others. They didn’t have time for him to
crack. He had to be a King, a powerhouse like no other with an army to back him
up. He had that…they just needed to execute the mission, dead of night when
shadows move with ease.
Support Group for People Unfairly Maligned in Historical Fiction
Edward II: Greetings, everyone! I’m Edward of Caernarfon, as you probably all know - do feel free to call me Ned - and I’m your moderator for this, the second meeting of all of us unfortunate historical folks maligned in fiction of the twenty-first century. We’re here to share our pain, and to share the sillinesses perpetuated about us written hundreds of years after our deaths. I’ll get us started. As well as all the unfair and wildly untrue things about me I shared at our last meeting, there’s some new stuff. According to one novelist, I react to things by ‘snivelling’ and am a coward who runs away from the battlefield of Bannockburn and is too afraid to fight, even though in reality I had to be dragged protesting from the field and fought 'like a lioness deprived of her cubs’ right in the thick of battle.
Piers Gaveston: Pretty damn sure I never saw you snivel, Ned. I bet the terribly heterosexual manly hero Roger Mortimer doesn’t 'snivel’ in that novel, eh?
Edward II: Damn right, he doesn’t. That same novel also accuses me of cowardice because I don’t beat up my wife, which was a real lolwut?? moment, I tell you.
Margaret Beaufort: May I have the floor, Ned? I, apparently, am a religious maniac with a weirdly anachronistic Joan of Arc fetish - why? I mean, why?! - which I have to talk about every five minutes. I mysteriously forget that I’m the countess of Richmond all the time. But worst of all by far, I’m meant to have had Edward IV’s two sons murdered in the Tower of London so that my own son Henry Tudor could become king. Because obviously I knew that Richard III’s son would conveniently die young a few months later and clear the path to the throne, and I could stroll in and out of the most fortified and well-guarded stronghold in the country and murder two princes without anyone noticing. Yup. Invisible Superwoman, that’s me.
Edward II: That’s awful, Margaret! You mean people are willing to accuse you of the cold-blooded murder of children when there isn’t the tiniest shred of evidence whatsoever?
Margaret Beaufort: Indeed there are, plenty of them. There are also people on modern social media who call me a 'snake’ and express a wish that I’d died in childbirth and my son with me. I was thirteen at the time. Yes, there really are people out there who wish a thirteen-year-old had suffered a painful death in childbirth. It seems that they forget we were human beings with feelings too.
George, duke of Clarence: Hey, everyone! Talking about blatant ways of making us appear really unlikeable and horrible, I’d like to protest at the way novelists in the twenty-first century portray me as this ridiculously one-dimensional alcoholic wife-beater. That’s all there ever was to me, apparently. Alcoholism. And wife-beating. I never even laid a finger on Isabel!
Henry VII: There’s this one novel where my mother Margaret Beaufort - who just hasn’t been maligned enough, apparently - tells me to rape my fiancée Elizabeth of York before we marry to make sure that she can become pregnant. If she can’t, I’m to marry her sister Cecily instead. Still trying to figure that one out - am I supposed to go through all the sisters until I find one who gets pregnant and then marry her? Just so darn weird.
Elizabeth of York: Wait, let me see that one! Oh yeah, I remember now, the novel where I spend half the time mooning over my lost uncle Richard III, who I was totally in love with, allegedly, and refer to constantly as 'my lover’. My uncle. There is not enough eeeewwwww in my vocabulary.
Henry VII: I’m depicted as this pathetic little mummy’s boy half the time. And I’ve been trying to block the horror of it out of my mind, but there’s another novel that has me - get this, folks - drinking the blood of young men. Like wuuuuuuh?
Elizabeth of York: I don’t know.
Edward II: You don’t know what?
Elizabeth of York: I don’t know what I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Say anything to me and I’ll reply that I don’t know.
Elizabeth Woodville: Hey, everyone, did you know I’m a witch? Witch witch witch. Who makes witchy things happen all the witching time. Because I’m a witch. A witchy witch who does lots of witchy things. On every witchy page of the witchy novel about how I’m a witch.
Anne Neville: I’m getting pretty annoyed with the way I’m almost always depicted as terribly frail, to the point where I faint or collapse about every five minutes. Yes, I died young, but that doesn’t mean I’d been a permanent invalid all my life, people! Yeesh, it’d be great to have someone write me as though I had an actual backbone and some personality, instead of as this weak feeble fainting little…thing.
Edward of Lancaster: True, and it’d be nice if someone would acknowledge that you didn’t necessarily spend your entire marriage to me weeping and wailing over Richard of Gloucester.
Anne Neville: I did a little bit at first maybe, just a tiny little bit, but I soon got used to the idea of being queen of England one day. That was pretty cool. Something else modern novelists never seem to realise about me is that maybe I had a bit of ambition and quite fancied being a queen!
Edward of Lancaster: Yeah, we kind of got used to being married to each other and didn’t mind it at all, did we? And you know, it’s so unfair when a throwaway bravado comment you make when you’re still practically a child is then used for the next half a millennium as though it represents the sum total of your personality and is constantly used to present you as a sadistic murderous psychopath. Modern people, would you like it if someone took one of your sulky adolescent pronouncements as though it’s representative of your entire life and attitudes?
Henry VI: And when one remark by one visitor to England, simply reporting a rumour he had heard that I supposedly said that my son Edward was fathered by the Holy Ghost, is taken that my son absolutely must have been fathered by someone else other than me. As though my wife Margaret of Anjou isn’t maligned enough!
Margaret of Anjou: Oh, you mean I actually have a name? Like seriously? I thought I was just called 'the bad queen’. Voice dripping with sarcasm here.
Elizabeth of York: I don’t know.
Edward II: Afraid we’re running out of time and will have to wrap this up now, folks! Hope you all feel somewhat better after getting this rubbish off your chests, and take care until the next meeting of the Support Group for People Maligned in Historical Fiction! Goodnight!
- Kathryn Warner from her blog edwardthesecond.blogspot.com (excepts about the Wars of The Roses historical fiction)
You call it a storm, yet in it I find peace. Lightning in the distance, across the sky it streaks. Acoustics of the drops in the puddles collecting. Looking up its lit up from nature’s electric. It’s comforting. Humbling my being at this world so majestic. Constant when it falls. A sweet resound as Thunder calls after his lover she’s to quick for him. Sort of like us, I’m in awe. But it never fails. Breathe. Pause. Crackling and crying for connection to her because, it was once but will it be again? It’s inevitable his resilience to show case the brilliance of his love. Then after touching once more erupting with a display from above. He makes peace with his queen and drips of dew spew from the connectivity in the clouds. I love the peace it brings when it rains and nature’s lovers are displaying a love that’s beautifully and ferociously tame. It’s not a storm to me, it’s a love story. All you have to do is be still, watch carefully, and listen.
Krul: Who are you?
Saito: Oh, you forgot? You should know who I am…
Krul: …Is he that guy, who was always at the Progenitor’s side…
[1000 years ago]
Krul: But it seems your appearance has changed, compared to 1000 years ago.
Saito: Hmm. The time moved really that fast, after I abandoned my place as the 2nd progenitor?
Krul: You dyed your hair black and called yourself “Saito” for hundred years.
Saito: It’s very Japanese, right?
Krul: Enough with the chit-chat. Are you the person behind this work?
Saito: What work?
Krul: That I got kidnapped by Ferid Bathory.
Saito: Eh…you got kidnapped by Ferid and such? You must be kidding.
You are the child of the same Progenitor as mine, but Ferid is merely my child.
If the story is true, that guy must have tried really hard.
Saito: But it’s just like that. We are in his manor, he was still really weird, like the first we met.
Krul: DON’T PLAY INNOCENT!!! WHAT INTENTION DO YOU HAVE!!?
Saito: No, really. I don’t have any connections to Ferid and the others. He didn’t match my expectations so I abandoned him a long time ago.
Saito: What, it’s the same thing what our Progenitor did to us. He only adored your older brother, Asura Tepes. And abandoned us, the remaining vampires.
Krul: STOP!! PLEASE, DON’T TAKE MY BROTHER AWAY!!
1st Progenitor: It’s alright. It’s okay/ not scary to become a demon. Even if you turn into one, I will be always by your side.
Asuramaru: Yes, I believe you, father.
Asuramaru: I am going Krul*, for our future.
Krul: Don’t follow this guy!! I don’t need something like a future!! SO DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE IN THIS KIND OF WORLD!!!
1st Progenitor: Good, then let’s go, you will turn into an oni so your name… You will be reborn in a country called Japan, so let’s change your name, Asura.
Krul: WAIT!!! I BEG YOU BROTHER!!!
?: …good…Asuramaru sounds alright…
Krul: …then are you also searching for the Progenitor?
Do you detest the Progenitor, who made oneself into an immortal, bloodsucking monster?
Saito: Well…all vampires hate their parents at least once. Like in their rebellious phase.
Saito: Ah, what did Ferid tell you about me?
Krul: You are really shameless, after all Ferid is your underling.
Saito: I really don’t know…
Ah, he arrived.
Krul: What are you talking about?
Saito: Russia’s representative is coming. He is leading the nobles.
page 19 [2nd progenitor Urd Geales]
Lest: You have arrived in Japan. Should we look for destroyed Kyoto?
Urd: …Japan… there’s a possibility that, that guy is here.
Saito: But why would that guy, suddenly come to Japan?
Might be here to disturb my business. I spent more than 1000 years on my plans so I don’t want to be interrupt out of the sudden.
Then who called him? You? No. Then who could it be?
Saito: My rebellious child?
Crowley: We’ll arrive in Osaka bay soon.
Ferid: Wow, you did well. Once we arrived there it’ll get busy.
Crowley: Hm. You didn’t even tell me why it would get busy.
Ferid: Ah yes~ Well if I tell you in detail-
Ferid: It’ll get really busy!
Crowley: …it’s enough.
Ferid: Huhu, if you know too much, the high ranked progenitors are going to take you wand torture you.
Crowley: Wow. Are you really worried about me?
Ferid: After all, you are my loveable child.
Crowley: What are you talking about. You forced me to become a vampire. In these 800 years, I really detested it.
Ferid: That again~
Crowley: You fed me someone’s else blood and not yours on purpose. What was his name?
Ferid: I don’t remember. It was probably dog’s blood. So say “woof”
Crowley: …I think it was Saito. Your master.
Ferid: What, you do remember.
Crowley: To say it we are brothers. But I don’t know my father and don’t what my brother is thinking. Is your aim to revenge on your parent?
…if you don’t tell me, I’ll get my revenge on you.
Ferid: Huhu. If you gonna do it, do it in a cool way~
Crowley: …for real…
Ferid: Mika-kun, you should also sleep a bit.
Mika: Don’t make me laugh, vampires don’t sleep.
Ferid: Ah, was it like that!? I didn’t know.
…right don’t give me that dirty stare-
your revenge target is Krul Tepes, right?
Where are we heading to? Hm~
Mika: Are you okay, Yu-chan?
Yu: Ah-…No…I’m not alright…I bumped my head…
Ferid: [Ah…the sky today is beautiful as ever that’s get boring…]
[Have we arrived in Osaka bay]
Ferid: Why did you hit the break out of the sudden…
Crowley: Wasn’t it a good revenge?
Ferid: Eh?…A hahaha. It was truly wonderful.
Yu: Where the hell are we?
Shinoa: Probably…Osaka bay…
Yu:Hey Ferid, you should slowly tell us.
What is this place-
Lest(?): FERID BATHORY-!!
WHY AREN’T YOU COMING HERE AND GREETS US?!
Yu: …What. You did betrayed-…
Ferid: Shut up. Make a mistake and the entire country will be destroyed in seconds.
Ferid: High ranked progenitors…
[Progenitors from around the world gathered in Osaka. And Ferid’s true intentions…?!]
* Asuramaru says 갔다 올게 what literally means I’ll go and come back lel…
FUUUUUUUUUCK MAN SHIT IS ABOUT GET REAL MAAAN AND SAITO BITCH IS BACK IN DA HOUSE.
that part with Krul was really sad tho… ;-;
And Crowley getting real tired of Ferid’s shit…