just a small town girl, living in a lonely world

I'm fashionably late~ (Well, in a sense.)

2013-10-06T15:05:36Z

Happy birthday, gantai! Have a fic~ :3

***

The moon hung full and blood-red in the cloudless night sky. Hisoka could feel his pulse pounding madly in his throat as he raced down the streets of Tokyo, weaving between people and ducking around couples who strolled idly hand in hand. He narrowly avoided running headlong into someone who suddenly stepped into his path from an unlit back alley. He had barely enough time to register the long black coat and the sunglasses that reflected his own flushed face back at him, half a heartbeat for a hurried not-at-all-apologetic "sorry" before he took off again. Hijiri. He had to find Hijiri.

But Hijiri was lost. Caught in a wire mesh, suspended halfway between pain and pleasure; eyes watering, tears streaming down his face, though he was no longer even aware of them. Somebody was screaming. Was it him? He couldn't tell. The ancient sakura branches spread far and wide above him, barren of answers. Blood trickled down his skin. Silver filled his vision and a new wave of pain took him. Breath shuddered out of him as the low murmur of another's voice filled his ear. He couldn't make out the words, though it sounded like they were very important somehow. He strained to hear them and he strained too much because the wires cut in deeper, his throat tightened, and a scream died on his lips. Something broke. Somebody was laughing.

Muraki turned around to regard the white-clad onmyouji who had just flung a spell at him. There was a hint of surprise on the other's face, a fleeting moment when the other glanced at the cherry tree and the boy suspended from its branches in glistening silver wires, as if he'd expected to see someone else; then his jaw set and he focused his gaze on him. The spell had been a powerful one; Muraki gave the young man that much credit. But for someone who'd faced Tsuzuki's shikigami, it was no more than a small puppy's bite. Ofuda flashed again and Muraki batted it aside with an idle sweep of his hand, countering with his own. To distract, not actually pose any real threat because he needed some time to finish a sealing spell. Because the young onmyouji had seen the face of a murderer. He couldn't be allowed to live.

The flare of magic in the park drew attention, though Seishirou's attention had already been drawn there by the proceedings under his tree. He'd been curious - and slightly irritated as well, he had to admit - that somebody else was about to feed the sakura, even if unintentionally. The tree was only too glad about the murder about to take place beneath its branches, but that fact didn't sit particularly well with the Sakurazukamori. He arrived at the scene almost simultaneously with Hisoka, whose attention had been directed there by the flashes of magical energy which, heart sinking in a dawning realisation, he'd recognised as Muraki's. The other source he hadn't been able to identify. He started though, recognising the man he'd almost ran into earlier and briefly wondered about seeing him again here, of all places, but he diverted his gaze to appraise the scene before him. Muraki was fighting someone he didn't know. Hijiri was a half-naked blood-stained mess, strung out beneath a large, age-old cherry tree.

Hisoka moved forwards without thinking, rushing to free Hijiri. He felt Muraki's gaze on him, sensed more than saw the irritated scoff that flicked across his face, as he passed him, but the man he was fighting with kept him busy enough to prevent anything more than that one look cast his way.

"Hijiri!" He reached to undo the wires around the other teen's wrist and quailed from the painful emotional blow he received. Vision going white for a moment, heart pounding wildly in his ears, he staggered back, wrenching his hands away. His head spun and he shook it in order to clear his mind. He needed to help him; he couldn't afford to get blindsided by his own power. He resumed working at the wires again, this time being more careful to avoid touching skin.

"Hi...so...ka..." Hijiri looked at the other through a daze of pain, unsure of what he was seeing. If he was seeing at all.

"I'm here," Hisoka ground out through clenched teeth. His head was throbbing with pain, and the coils around Hijiri's wrist were coming undone much slower than he would've liked. "I've got you."

Seishirou watched a seal snap in place around Subaru, tying him down with invisible threads and quirked an eyebrow at the silver-haired man's prowess. When he saw that the spell kept his prey trapped, he considered his further way of action by studying his would-be opponent even more closely.

"Not going to attack me?" Muraki turned towards him and quirked an eyebrow in unconcealed amusement. He was finding this situation as troublesome as he found it exhilarating.

"Should I?" Seishirou countered with polite interest in his voice, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette and lighting it. Then, after a moment's deliberation, he extended the pack towards the other man. "I was merely passing by."

Muraki considered him, then stepped forwards and accepted the offer, ever so slightly leaning in towards the lighter as it flickered to life. His artificial eye glinted with reflected flame.

Hisoka, realising that all battle noise had subsided, glanced back over his shoulder. The sight of the two men standing there and smoking in a display of camaraderie made something twist in his gut. Abandoning Hijiri for the time being, he pulled out his own ofuda - he'd been studying dutifully after his last encounter with the murderer - and attacked.

"Muraki," he snarled, raising the spell and narrowing his eyes in hatred. The need of keeping calm and collected had fled his mind entirely at the sight of what had been done to Hijiri and the realisation of what else Muraki ha planned on doing to him. It was the worst sense of deja-vu he'd ever experienced.

He didn't get far, however. With an idle gesture, Seishirou wrapped him up in an illusion, sakura branches twining around him and lifting him off the ground.

"Good little boys should wait for their turn," he intoned.

Stunned for a moment, Hisoka froze, then strained against the branches, seeking to tap into the spell to find a way to unravel it. But the sakura shifted, whispering across the blossoms that budded along the knobbly sprigs, wreathing him in their cloying scent. Overwhelmed, he screamed. Seishirou raised his eyebrows in surprise. No one had ever reacted quite that way to the tree, though Subaru's attempt to exorcise it so far had been his favourite.

"That boy," Muraki explained with a delighted smile, "is an empath."

"I see. I was wondering about that when I... ran into him on the street earlier." He put a deliberate emphasis on the word.

"Oh? Were you interested in him? He is quite a troublesome boy."

Seishirou took a thoughtful drag of his cigarette, through his sunglasses eyeing the trapped Subaru who still hadn't managed to break free from the binding spell. The Sumeragi heir shot a cold stare his way, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he strained at the invisible trap, trying, in vain, to unravel it and keeping stoically silent. "I've come to find that I like them troublesome."

Muraki hummed, pleased with the turn things were taking. "Perhaps we can come to an agreement here."

Seishirou regarded him with cold calculation. And smiled. "Perhaps we can."

They finished their smokes and moved towards the sakura tree; black and white, side by side. As Subaru watched helplessly, all of his spells coming up short against the seal, Muraki returned to Hijiri's side, picking up where he'd left off while Seishirou traced his fingers down the side of Hisoka's face, delving into the boy's mind, watching his body shudder and tremble violently at the intrusion. He pulled him back to consciousness and the first sound out of his mouth was another scream.

He leaned in closer, whispering to the boy, "Let me take the pain away." His knuckles stroked a line down his cheek, reassuring, calming, feeding the emotions to the empathetic teen and he yielded, just a fraction. But that was all that was necessary for Seishirou. He sealed the impact from the sakura away and the teen breathed easier in an instant. He shuddered, as the death and magic was held at bay, churning at the fringes of his consciousness, bearing down on the seal holding them in place, but otherwise unable to reach him and overwhelm his senses again. Not that there was any need for that. Seishirou's touch was for too overwhelming on its own.

"Scared?" he whispered against the boy's lips, leaning in close, looking into those dazed green eyes that held the same brilliance as his precious Subaru's. "Don't be." You should be.

On the surface, Hisoka could only see his own reflection on black sunglasses. Below that, he was seeing flashes of murders and deaths every time Seishirou's fingers touched him. He kept his touches brief enough to keep him relatively attentive, but Hisoka could tell that he'd done something beyond that. That he'd somehow, someway lessened the impact on his ability. Like slamming a gate against an oncoming flood, he'd raised a dam which the young shinigami didn't know if he ought to be grateful for.

Beside him, Hijiri gasped and writhed in the wires as Muraki's fingers finished tracing the lines of a curse onto his skin in blood and pain. They blossomed fire-red, burning into his skin and then fading into nothingness, as the doctor whispered along every action, telling him how to undo it all only if he was a good and patient boy and listened closely to his words. Hijiri thought he'd memorised the beginning, but by now all of the words and signs had become an indecipherable jumble of pain and liquid fire, scorching him on levels that ought to be impossible. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him because the barren branches above his head now stood covered in flowers, casting the world in an ethereal glow in the red moonlight.

The words of a prayer pulled Muraki away from Hijiri and towards Subaru.

Seishirou turned his head to follow his movement out of the corner of his one good eye. "Kill him, and I'll kill you," he warned silkily. Beneath him, Hisoka gasped sharply from the murderous intent that flashed briefly to the forefront and jerked violently in his restraints.

The smile Muraki shot him over his shoulder wasn't entirely reassuring, but the small nod of acknowledgement let him know that he had been heard and his words taken into consideration. "I don't care what you do with that boy. The other one, however..."

And just like that, an understanding had been reached.

Seishirou turned his attention back to the writhing Hisoka, murmuring gentle nothings and watching the boy's eyes widen and glaze over as his intent flooded him. He reached up and removed his sunglasses to regard him in the otherworldly light. The sakura branches drew tighter around his new prey, anchoring him into this illusory world, though he was no more than an illusion himself. He leaned down to the boy's neck and breathed in deeply of the fear, the pain, and despair. And smiled.

Subaru gasped when Muraki slammed a spell right into his chest, winding him and distracting him with the pain. The words of the incantation died on his lips. The white-clad doctor ran a hand down his chest, twisting the fabric above his heart sharply, grazing a nipple. He leaned in, murmuring low a spell of his own and binding Subaru's will, his intention to fight. His mind resisted, but Muraki's hands slid beneath his shirt, tracing spell lines on his skin, distracting him. He bit back a groan of pain, arms straining against the bindings that held them pinned above his head in a desperate instinct to defend himself, to do something, but the sight of the wire-bound and bleeding boy and Seishirou's back bowed over another boy was already slipping from his view. Silver filled his vision, pain stabbed through him, and the moon bled its fire-red light over him.

Above it all, sakura bloomed madly.

lightrobber @ 2013-07-21T22:48:00

2013-07-21T19:49:26Z

...it's a weird day when I go trawl Google looking for images of the four horsemen of apocalypse. All because, one moment, I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson's "Catch My Breath", the next - I'm watching this:

Fanfic-a-ton, orz

2012-06-04T18:27:01Z

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji
Underwater
Hannah
300+ words
G
It's cold and quiet where she's going, but it's not enough to hold her forever. Vignette.

A Demon's Truth
Alois, Claude
300+ words
PG
Alois wanted to hear only the truth and Claude gave it to him. He gave him the demon's truth.

A Kingdom of Lies
Alois, Claude
300+ words
PG
Perhaps Claude understood some aspect of Alois better than he let on. Because everything between them was just a part of the contract.

Conditional
Alois, Claude
400+ words
PG
A demon's love is never unconditional. That's because demons cannot love.

Unrequited Everything
Grell x William
500+ words
PG
There are limits to everything, but Grell blissfully ignores them all.

You Are An Endless Tide
Sebastian, Ciel
300+ words
PG
He's drawn the winning hand, but the art is keeping it till the very end.

You Weave The Darkness Like A Shroud
Sebastian, Ciel
600+ words
PG
You couldn't tell Sebastian from an ordinary human even if you tried. Nothing at all betrayed his true identity.

Tears Never Moved A Mountain
Alois, Claude
200+ words
PG
It doesn't matter to Claude whether or not his little master cries. He does feel aversion to weakness, though.

Take Me
Alois, Claude
200+ words
PG-13
Alois doesn't even know what he's begging for anymore. Shota.

Of A Smile
Alois, Claude
400+ words
PG
Alois has only ever striven for one thing, but it constantly eludes him.

Non-golden Silence
Alois, Claude
400+ words
PG
Silence is golden, but Alois doesn't want it. Not from Claude. He wants to hear everything, everything, and yet...

Hate Me
Alois, Claude
500+ words
PG
Alois never knows what exactly he wants because each moment is uniquely different from the previous.

Somewhat of a Pet Problem
Sebastian, Ciel, cats
200+ words
G
The acts of independence, no matter how small or insignificant, degrade the image of a Lord.

Fandom: Uragiri wa boku no namae wo shitteiru
Control
Hotsuma x Shuusei
1400+ words
PG-13
Hotsuma needs it - too afraid of what would happen if he lost it again. But Shuusei knows that he's come to a point where losing control wouldn't be all that bad.

Oddly Sincerely
Luka x Touko
1100+ words
PG-13
He shouldn't dare. What exactly - she doesn't elaborate.

Today Never Happened Before
Luka x Touko
1000+ words
PG-13
It's not simple between the two of them. They're not even sure if there is anything. And yet...

One Life Is Not Enough For It All
Kuroto x Senshirou
1500+ words
PG-13
No matter how hard Kuroto struggles, it's already too late. Things done cannot be undone and decisions made by someone else cannot be unmade.

One Moment In Time Is Ours
Kuroto x Senshirou
1300+ words
PG-13
They have to live for the moment because it's quite possible that the next day never comes.

Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
The World Becomes Us
Primo famiglia
6000+ words
PG-13+
This is a story of how it all began. How we began. And how we survived. Primo－verse. Guardians－centric. Chronicle－style./

The Phoenix Didn't Rise
Uni
900+ words
PG-13
This is the darkest hour of the Giglio Nero famiglia.

The Lying Game
Chrome Dokuro, Daemon Spade
400+ words
PG
Life based on lies based on reality. That is the nature of all illusions.

Papillon Symphonie
Chrome-Mukuro
700+ words
PG
Do you know that tale of a Brazilian butterfly who flapped its wings － once － and a hurricane tore down Tokyo?

Non-direction
Giotto, Alaude
150+ words
PG
He only has the vaguest idea of where they are going.

Maelstrom Catchers
Bianchi x Xanxus
4800+ words
PG-13+
Because Daemon Spade isn't the only threat in the mafia world, and because Irie Shouichi only promised a future without the Millefiore. Ten generations is a long time to acquire friends and enemies alike; and more so of the latter, as proven by the Shimon family. Nothing is ever over in the world of the mafia.

In these crossroads of Hell
Tsuna
2200+ words
PG-13+
AU in which ten years later everything went to hell in a handbasked. Tsuna-centric. Dark!fic. Character death.

As the wind blows
Hibari, Chrome, Mukuro
1250+ words
PG+
On the first day off-mission in months things don't quite go as planned. TYL!AU.

All The Things Unsaid
Chrome, Tsuna
550+ words
PG+
Some things are not meant to be spoken. Some actions － not meant to be questioned.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
You Burn Me Away
Jack, DS!Carly
1000+ words
PG+
If loving somebody is hell, then Jack would like to know what hell is.

Thorns to Stardust
Aki, Yuusei
300 words
PG
He toppled her world over, and that's all she'll ever have of him. Relationship study.

Feathers to Thorns
Crow, Aki
300 words
PG
Crow sees Aki. Crow sees what Yuusei can't. And sometimes it hurts all the more for it. Relationship study.

Stardust to Inferno
Yuusei, Kiryuu
300 words
PG
There's always struggle and guilt and regret. There's always used-to-be different. Relationship study.

Fandom: YuGiOh!
Between The Lifelines
Amelda, Anzu
~6000 words
PG-13
It's like a game of 'don't step on the cracks', except the ground is riddled with them and there isn't a way to avoid them all.

Date-blind
Yami Malik, Yuugi Mutou
~300 words
PG+
They're going on a blind date.

Promise a Promise
Thief King Bakura
100 words
PG
Once upon a lifetime, a little boy promised himself...

I Was An Abyss Once
Yami Bakura, Thief King Bakura
2500+ words
PG+
When you've seen an abyss, an abyss has seen you. And when you walk away from it, a piece of it walks with you.

Fly-Away Butterfly
Shizuka, Malik
2500+ words
PG+
The monster is out. And she's not dreaming anymore.

Ide-ality
Mai Kujaku/Valentine, Dinosaur Ryuuzaki/Rex Raptor
350+ words
PG-13-
An idea is just an idea. Except when it's an ideal reality.

A-live
Thief King Bakura, Malik
800+ words
G+
Take one resurrected Thief King, a piece of modern technology, and you've got a disaster on your hands. Citronshipping. Sort of.

Great Divide
Priest Seto, Mahaado
3300+ words
PG-13
Separated from everything they know, rendered invisible in the face of a greater fate, they still have to find a way to live on.

Chance To Be
Ryou Bakura, Anzu Mazaki
1700+ words
PG+
It's a stalemate situation, but they've still got one direction to take.

Rather Be Better
Amelda, Valon
~1000 words
PG
The definitions of what they are to each other are blurry. There's something that may be nothing, or a whole lot of nothings that don't constitute anything.

End Credits
Noa Kaiba
2500+ words
PG+
This is the Virtual World in which Yuugi won. Except his problems didn't end there. Noa's did.

I Will Follow
Honda, Shizuka, Otogi
~1900 words
PG
And they did, across the crumbling land and into the dark.

White Light Out
Otogi, Yami
1000+ words
PG
Some things just aren't meant to work out. Some times the game turns around. Sometimes, it's the strongest player bested.

Our Time Now
Noa Kaiba, Priest Set
900+ words
PG
When you yourself are endless, it's hard to miss an end, a border, a crossing line. But when you breach a certain border, everything changes.

Of All The Mirrors
Ishizu, Seto Kaiba
1100+ words
PG-13+
Of all the mirrors I have seen, yours is the worst. Cracked. Broken. Beyond repair.

Quasi-mode
Malik Ishtar, Yami Bakura
777 words
PG+
It's a eulogy for things that were, could have been, and never will be.

Mawari Kawari
Amane Bakura, Cyndia Crawford/Cecilia Pegasus
1600+ words
PG-13-
There is a monster lying in wait. There is fate waiting to turn. Pervadeshipping.

Firework Romance
Vivian Wong, Otogi Ryuuji
2700+ words
PG-13
It's a lightshow up in the sky. It's a lightshow no matter how you look at it.

The Man in the Wind and the West Moon
Noa Kaiba, Priest Set
~1500 words
PG-13+
Outside the boundaries of the world, in a place where belonging is a curse and not belonging equals freedom, I once met a reflection of somebody I knew.

Sors Immanis Et Inanis
Honda x Mana x Kisara
11600+ words
PG-13+
When the world goes mad on you, maybe this is the only thing you can do to make it through. Supernatural angst with a healthy side-dish of horror and tragedy. Staunchshipping.

Kokoro No Naka
Yami Bakura x Ryou Bakura x Jounouchi Katsuya
2700+ words
PG-13+
It all starts inside. Inside a circle, inside a soul. And when it breaks out... it breaks. Batteryshipping.

How the World Burns
Yami Malik, Yuugi Mutou
4200+ words
PG-13+
"Beautifully," he says and strikes a match to set the world on fire.

A Vertigo of Samsara
Thief King Bakura, Pharaoh Atem
3000+ words
PG+
It wasn't only one time, even if it felt that way. It wasn't only one life, even if it felt that way.

Time Sands Still
Yami Bakura, Mai Kujaku
~5000 words
PG-13
Sand clocks were made to turn - Bakura is convinced of this.

Deconstruction Road
Seto Kaiba, Yami Yuugi
4500+ words
PG-13
The darkest hours are before the sunrise, but sometimes the sun dies out soon after having risen. And when you're in a world of nowhere, nowhere is the only place where you can go.

All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

2012-03-19T18:35:44Z

Originally posted by awakenyourfaith at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Originally posted by ragnarok_08 at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Originally posted by gandolforf at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Originally posted by zelda_zee at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Originally posted by mickeym at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Originally posted by nrrrdy_grrrl at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Originally posted by mangacat201

All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012

Seriously. WHAT THE FLYING FUCK WORLD.

"File-sharers, beware: By July 12, major US Internet service providers (ISPs) will voluntarily begin serving as copyright police for the entertainment industry, according to Cary Sherman, chief executive of the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). The so-called “six-strikes” plan is said to be one of the most effective anti-piracy efforts ever established in the US."

The article goes on to give details. After six notices, internet providers will decide to throttle a person's internet speed, or cut it off altogether. I don't know if they will crack down on torrents only, or if it is up to the internet provider. I get the sense it is up to the internet provider. So some people could get away with downloading non torrents, while others might get their internet service cut off. I urge you to click it and read, as we all know people who download.

No more downloading eps of your favorite shows for vidding, gifs, or fanfiction art. No more downloading screencaps possibly. I'm so sorry my friends. I don't even know if BT Guard will work to protect you, but I would google it if I were you. It is a professional service that supposedly can protect you from the invasive eyes of your internet provider.

Just, my friends, please make each other aware. Please be aware of the date JULY 12TH. Mark your calendar and double check with your internet provider by then. If you start receiving notices of downloaded activity, this is why. And your internet service could be throttled or cut off.

Fox News confirms this:
http://www.foxnews.com/scitech/2012/03/17/us-isps-become-copyright-cops-starting-july-12/

Youtube video explaining this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H5OG0R-yS-c

ETA: Petition for RIAA and the Obama Administration: Stop ISPs from launching a massive copyright spying scheme this July 12th

Fanfiction.

2012-02-27T00:43:00Z

So, I'm branching out into Supernatural now. With a series of vignettes of, often, most depressing kind. Though there is going to be some humour mixed in every now and then. And gross content. And porn. And... who knows what else. It's going to be a long monster.

Title: Tangents and Intersections
Characters: Sam, Dean, a multitude of random OCs
Rating: Anywhere from G to NC-17, depending on each vignette.
Warnings: generally disturbing, horrifying, sexual, heart-wrenching content with a dash of humour sparingly applied. Individual warnings may apply.
A/N: The lives of Dean and Sam Winchester and the lives of all the other people they touched or crossed with.
Vignettes 1 to 5 are up.

And now for something I haven't done in a while. Music post!

2012-02-08T17:03:46Z

+ Translation.
The reason? Because I noticed how in the comments to this song one person gave a broken translation for it. Now, nothing sets my teeth on edge more than a broken translation. Therefore, I had to rectify this.

Also, what do you guys say - want me to make this into a weekly/bi-weekly sort of thing and share more Latvian music with you? Y/N?

So here goes an awesome song: Miljonārs -- Musiqq

Millionaire
by Musiqq

If life is a melody, I'm a melomaniac
If happiness is measured in wealth, I'm a millionaire

I'm a millionaire
I'm a millionaire

If loving means giving, take everything, take everything I have
If Heaven's in the clouds, then just a step, a step separates me from it
And if life were a cup, I'd take it and drain it
And if only the loudest screamer were right
I'm not the one to spare my voice
And if tomorrow were the end of the world
I'd live this day to cause envy
If you agree with what's been said
Take a standing applause for yourself

If life is a melody, I'm a melomaniac
If happiness is measured in wealth, I'm a millionaire

I'm a millionaire
I'm a millionaire

He who seeks, will find
If not today, if not today, maybe tomorrow
If not here, then in heaven
Just a little bit, a little bit of patience

If tomorrow luck calls on me,
I hope there's lots of it.
But if envy suffocates me tomorrow
what kind of friend am I then?
There can't be too many dreams.
That's why I act, even if not allowed.
Maybe I'm like an astronout
Gravity dosn't worry me

If life is a melody, I'm a melomaniac
If happiness is measured in wealth, I'm a millionaire

I'm a millionaire
I'm a millionaire

ACTA. We don't want this to be our reality.

2012-01-30T07:43:49Z

Originally posted by kangawu at post

Originally posted by cantarina1 at post

Originally posted by electricdruid at The fiasco continues

ACTA in a Nutshell –

What is ACTA? ACTA is the Anti-Counterfeiting Trade Agreement. A new intellectual property enforcement treaty being negotiated by the United States, the European Community, Switzerland, and Japan, with Australia, the Republic of Korea, New Zealand, Mexico, Jordan, Morocco, Singapore, the United Arab Emirates, and Canada recently announcing that they will join in as well.

Why should you care about ACTA? Initial reports indicate that the treaty will have a very broad scope and will involve new tools targeting “Internet distribution and information technology.”

What is the goal of ACTA? Reportedly the goal is to create new legal standards of intellectual property enforcement, as well as increased international cooperation, an example of which would be an increase in information sharing between signatory countries’ law enforcement agencies.

Essential ACTA Resources -

Read more about ACTA here: ACTA Fact Sheet
Read the authentic version of the ACTA text as of 15 April 2011, as finalized by participating countries here: ACTA Finalized Text
Follow the history of the treaty’s formation here: ACTA history
Read letters from U.S. Senator Ron Wyden wherein he challenges the constitutionality of ACTA: Letter 1 | Letter 2 | Read the Administration’s Response to Wyden’s First Letter here: Response
Watch a short informative video on ACTA: ACTA Video
Watch a lulzy video on ACTA: Lulzy Video

Say NO to ACTA. It is essential to spread awareness and get the word out on ACTA.

Via Tumblr

--

If you are in the US, the only thing I know of is this petition, which requires 25000 signatures in 30 days for any sort of response: https://wwws.whitehouse.gov/petitions#!/petition/end-acta-and-protect-our-right-privacy-internet/MwfSVNBK

There are only 3000 signatures right now.

I don't know what options there are in other countries, but again, for the US, I imagine calling Senators would be a course of action. It worked on the surface for SOPA and PIPA, at least, and it at least sends the message that this is not okay.

If you do, though, opusculus notes that it has been signed already so it is probably worthwhile to mention that you know that and are protesting it anyway.

ETA: this tumblr post has more global resources for how you can protest ACTA.

♥

Say NO!!!! To ACTA.

2012-01-30T06:08:24Z

Funny, how I only come online when something big is happening. This time, it's the ACTA - Anti-counterfeiting Trade Agreement.

You don't know what that is? Remember SOPA? PIPA? It's their brother.
In short - end of fanfiction, icons, fansubbing, fanart, and just about anything fun about fandom. And that's only the half of it. Have you noticed how Youtube has certain videos blocked in certain countries? That's only the start of ACTA being effected. The video below gives a great example of how it would look once enforced.

~~~

Here's a page with more info: http://www.stopacta.info/

And a petition to sign: http://www.petitiononline.com/stopacta/petition.html

And finally, a very active way to show your stance on it.

Transcript:

BLACK MARCH
Thursday, March 1st 2012 to Saturday 31st March 2012

With the continuing campaigns for Internet-censoring litigation such as SOPA and PIPA, and the closure of sites such as Megaupload under allegations of ‘piracy’ and ‘conspiracy’ the time has come to take a stand against music, film and media companies’ lobbyists.

The only way is to hit them where it truly hurts.
Their profit margins.

March 2012 is the end of the 1st quarter in economic reports worldwide.

Do not buy a single record. Do not download a single song, legally or illegally. Do not go to see a single film in cinemas, or download a copy, Do not buy a DVD in the stores. Do not buy a videogame. Do not buy a single book or magazine.

Wait the 4 weeks to buy them in April: see the film later, etc. Holding out for just 4 weeks, maximum, will leave a gaping hole in media and entertainment companies’ profits for the 1st quarter, an economic hit which will in turn be observed by governments worldwide as stocks and shares will blip from a large enough loss of incomes.
This action can give a statement of intent:

”We will not tolerate the Media Industries’ lobbying for legistation which will censor the internet.”

From: http://barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark.tumblr.com/post/16136393382/black-march-thursday-march-1st-2012-to-saturday

Reblog, retweet, get the word out.

~~~

I am taking part in the Black March. Which will be tough because I'll be missing out on the new Supernatural Season 7 episodes, which I can only watch online or by downloading them. And I hear that the Hunger Games movie is coming out on March 23. I bet there will be books and CDs that you'll want to buy. Don't. For one month, don't. Wait till April and then go crazy.
Let's make our voice count.

lightrobber @ 2011-10-06T00:19:00

2011-10-05T21:19:30Z

I have this distinct feeling of having buried myself with a Thiefship fic which I submitted for a contest. It doesn't live up to my own standards of this pairing. |:
Oh, well. Life goes on.

Speaking of life...
I'm still without a job and with no money to pay for this month's rent. Screwed doesn't begin to cover it. Being a student sucks.

On the bright side of things, I have at least one good thing coming up. I don't remember if I mentioned it in summer, but there was a teaching job that I applied for and got to the point of getting an interview to test my skills - except that they never called me back. Well, they put in another ad just recently and this time they called me. And I'm in! The training is at the end of October though, so that puts a bit of a damper on things because I really need to figure out a way to get money before that, seeing how I'll have to pay for the ticket to and from the city where the training is held - 200 km away from where I life. They will provide a place to stay at, though, which is great.

But I'm still holding up! (Even though I've skipped two weeks of university, spending this time at home, sulking about being such a failure at life.) I'm trying to cheer up though. Really, really trying.

ETA: And then I found out that mom never handed in some paperwork for getting some of the tax money back. All she needed was one extra sheet for them to put on my file and she didn't do it because she thought she needed the number of my bank account - which she didn't, and which she never asked to certify. *head/wall* Goddamnit all.

~~~~
Also, fic.

Fields Of Dust
Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Hibari/Chrome
695 words
PG
Because herbivores never matter, right?

lightrobber @ 2011-09-18T21:56:00

2011-09-18T18:58:16Z

The second week of studying has come and gone with mixed moments of "wtf am I studying I feel so dumb" and "...but that's so easy, why don't you people understand this? :|" and I'm loving most of my professors.

Prof. Buls who teaches mathematical logic is hilarious. He likes to exaggerate and I am moving to the front of the class next lesson because this time I ended up in the back with my friends and they were distracting me with irrelevant stuff.

On the job front, things are still slow. I've had a few interviews, two of which were waitress-masquerading-as-escortgirl, one actual waitress position in a night bar, staff for a copy centre, and I have another meeting scheduled for tomorrow evening which, I suspect might be a yet another escort girl-seeking place. Nobody else seems to like students.

'kay, now I'm off to bed. Or actually, to settle in with a book on mathematical logic which is kinda-sorta-not-mandatory-except-when-it-is. Opening it made me rage incessantly because some idiot had pencil-marked the text, underlining lines and words and just aslkfhakjsdhfksad. BUY A BOOK AND DO WHAT THE SHIT EVER YOU WANT WITH IT. DON'T WRITE IN BOOKS YOU GET FROM THE LIBRARY, YOU FUCKING DIPSHITS.

'kay, I'm done. It's just... people who write in books and fold page corners make me angry.

...and on things that make me angry - I can't even fully describe how much I hate it when people, upon learning that I've studied Japanese, go "ching shau kua chong, yeah?" (or any other supposedly-Chinese sounding gibberish) and on my polite "No, that would be Chinese. I'm learning Japanese." respond with "Oh? So what is the difference between them, really?"
That makes me fume. Like, angry volcano fume. It's the same as asking what's the difference between English and French, or English and German. Or Italian and Spanish. Why is it that nobody ever asks the same question when they hear that somebody is learning, say, German? Why is it always this critically disbelievingly don't-really-wanna-know tone reserved for asking for a differences-breakdown between Chinese and Japanese. >:|
Next time somebody asks me this question, I plan to answer with a "stupid foreigner isn't that bright, huh?" in Japanese, delivered with a smile.
/rant

And now I'm off to settle down with a book and an eraser in an attempt to tackle math logic while cleaning the pages. 8D

lol, i fail

2011-06-26T12:29:48Z

[#] Death Note

Teasers:

- -

|| この手を、手をとって　一緒に行こうよ ||

Ghost of a Rose. Fic. Part II. Kuroshitsuji. Hannah/Sebastian.

2011-06-06T22:08:53Z

The [incomplete] part two. I'm out of writing inspiration for this. I have the plot all nicely planned in my head and some scenes from further part(s) already written out, and I still can't tie everything together. There are HUEG f-ing plotholes in-between those scenes, for which I have no logic solutions yet. @-@
Also, I was high on inventing new words for this fic. Wonder if you can guess them.

Word Count: 3255
Rating: G
Index: Part I

Ghost of a Rose
II

Sebastian doesn't see Hannah for what is probably several weeks, though he catches sight of her new servants a few times as they pass through, scurrying about on some errand or another. (Time has no value for a demon. Ten years are the same as one hundred.) They are no different than him, those little pawns of Hannah – not by much – but at the same time they are far above his level. They are not bound to a former human; they serve a demon mistress of their own will and not because of a contract gone horribly, terribly wrong. Sebastian has all the reasons to kill Hannah, to finish what he started on that collapsing cliff on the demon island where he fought his final battle with Claude Faustus as a free demon. (Yes, he might have been bound in a contract at the time, but he was still free and about to devour his carefully seasoned meal and move onward in search of a new one.) Yet at the same time he is in no rush to do so, for he has realised one thing – Ciel didn't become a full-fledged demon straight away because Hannah still lived. Ciel is only gradually transforming into his final form because Hannah still lives, because she did not die when the island sank to the bottom of the sea. He didn't kill Hannah when she asked him to do it, to complete the cycle and receive his reward. (He had no time to go after her when he had to go after his useless little master whom he couldn't devour – fast, faster, just in case Hannah's words were just a bluff, just another piece of a demon's truth with no weight or meaning.) Hannah's life has given him time, though he sees no value in it. What use of time is there when you have no means of reversing changes brought on by another demon? There are some things which cannot be undone, some actions which cannot be rendered futile, and some words which cannot be taken back once spoken. That's why demons lie so much – just in case something unchangeable slips out by accident. They hide behind deceit and incomplete realities to make things all the more believable. They follow a code of their own, and it has limitations of its own, and it cannot be undone, sometimes. Words hold power; all demons know this. That's why they hide behind names given to them by humans; that's why they introduce themselves as a Legion of Darkness, a Legion which has no name or face except for that one of a moving, shifting, black mass, eager to swallow everything in its path. That's why they take on new names and never, never give out their own. That's why they let people call them what they may, because a name once called out will bind them. A name let out carelessly will keep them chained. Much like he is chained now by what has become his name for an eternity. These shackles cannot be simply shaken off, not anymore; and perhaps not by his own will. (He isn't entirely certain yet, but…)

Sebastian waits on his hungry little master, with idle talk and demonic nonsense trying to ease his mind, which doesn't rest lately. Ciel hasn't had a decent meal for a while now – somehow nobody seems to need a contract with a demon in this century - and no matter whom Ciel tries to approach, everything falls through. (Hannah, on the other hand, is currently in a contract – Sebastian has seen her servants in new uniforms.) If Sebastian closes his eyes and retreats into himself the way he used to do before Ciel Phantomhive, when he was only concerned with finding the next meal and making it more supreme than the previous one, that was how he found those in need. He can hear some of them even now – the skill hasn't disappeared anywhere. In fact, it has become sharper because he is constantly starving, and when he grows tired of his own rehashed thoughts and reminiscing, their voices enter his head uncalled and cry out from gutters and soft-pillow beds alike. Oh, he wouldn't be picky now! He'd take that one, and that one, and oh, that young lady was truly promising, and that elderly man would have a richly-flavoured soul with that tang of bitterness which Sebastian had held in such high esteem once upon a time. He doesn't point out any of these poor souls to his little master; he hasn't been ordered to. And his little master insists on handpicking his meals, sampling them scrupulously and seasoning them to his still unrefined tastes. Sebastian observes him from the sidelines and cannot help but scorn at how messy and sloppy his little master is – like a human infant tossing half of the bland porridge out of the bowl instead of stuffing it in the mouth. Truly disgusting. But his little master is proud and will not ask for his aid or guidance, not anymore. (A stray order here and there, maybe.) And so Sebastian watches him and suffers in silence, alone with his little secret, and agonises over the options he could have taken if only… If only.

Ciel is irate and restless. Hungry. Enough so to slip up (just a little bit).

"What do you do at times like these?" he mutters absent-mindedly after receiving another refusal. He hasn't aimed this question at anyone in particular, and he hasn't intended for Sebastian to overhear it. (But faithful butlers – they are always just a step behind their master, and always, always on top of everything.)

"Wait," Sebastian replies without thinking, though it's not the truth and he won't point out the obvious because Ciel should already know; should, at least, remember. "Wait until one of them gives in."

He doesn't remind him of Claude Faustus who used a little lie to get his way. He doesn't remind him of Alois Trancy who lied himself a new life. He doesn't remind him of Hannah who crept into Claude's dominion and turned it upside down with lies, half-truths, and careful craftsmanship of illusions and allusions. He doesn't remind him because his little master should remember. Because his little master was in the middle of it all, framed, flawed, forced into believing and betraying, and becoming something else. Or is little master just testing his eternal butler's loyalty now? Testing how low he has fallen? (There is still some ground under Sebastian's feet, precarious like a cliff's edge and springy like swamp moss, shifting like sand and frail like thin ice, but he won't give it up if that's the last thing he does as the shadow of a demon who was magnificent once.)

Ciel looks at him, his gaze sharp and calculating, and Sebastian finds that he has never wanted anything more than the ability to read his little master's mind at times like these.

"Waiting? All the time?" Ciel's tone is caught somewhere between anger, disbelief, and mockery.

Sebastian doesn't respond and concentrates on withstanding that drilling gaze of two red-burning eyes and no eye-patch in sight. (When did it become so hard to face him?)

"I could…" Ciel makes a wide motion with his hand and lets the sentence hang in the air for a while before continuing, "do something about it." His eyes are burning holes into Sebastian's head now – daring, challenging. He has caught on; he hasn't forgotten.

"You could," Sebastian agrees leniently, "but that would be in bad taste. Only the rash and reckless…"

Ciel interrupts him haughtily and mockingly, "Your aesthetics again?" He laughs and enjoys every moment of it. "I can see where they got you, and I am not headed there."

A surge of anger. A narrowing of eyes. That is all Sebastian can do in the face of his sneering little master before he has to steel himself, before he has to right his expression and pretend to have all those words rolling off his back like water rolls off that of a duck's.

"A show of refined taste, merely," Sebastian corrects. Himself, his little master… (the world, maybe.) "And I would expect my little master to have one."

The edges of Ciel's lips twitch in distaste. For a royalty of his kind such implications are a matter of honour and any insult aimed at them bears defending; and because of that Ciel wants to take that knife in Sebastian's side which is his existence and twist it for good measure. Twist it and watch him pretend that everything is fine, that this is what he wants, what he has wanted from the very first moment. Lies, lies, lies – Ciel knows this. Ciel has always known this, but sometimes it was better to believe in play-pretend because the world was unthinkably large and heavy and it could have broken his frail child's shoulders with its weight otherwise.

"Aren't you quite the expert," Ciel sneers and deems this conversation finished, but it's not. It never is. It simply can't be. For as long as eternity lasts, for as long as Ciel remains the master, and Sebastian – his faithful butler, there can be no end to this.

Sebastian doesn't consider it necessary to point out that, indeed, he is. The years spent doing what demons did, perfecting his skill in every which way and sampling souls, making sure the seasoning was right, the best, the ultimate unbeatable prime quality – a sinful pleasure instead of just food – all that has made him the top of the demonic food chain… once upon a time, moments before he took on the name of Sebastian Michaelis. Right this instant, it's nothing but used-to-bes, could-have-beens, should-haves, would-haves, wasn't-supposed-tos, and he hates, hates, hates. Hates in ways no other demon has ever hated their fellows because all demons are, essentially, the same, and were it not for the natural rivalry brought on by the fight for suitable eating material, they wouldn't clash at all. (Though these spats are never long-lasting or permanent and former enemies can turn around and work together for as long as it's beneficial for their individual goals. There are times when they've been pitted against each other, but even then they found a way to work together and go behind their master's backs, to wrangle the most out of any situation, ever. Temporarily-Claude-Faustus was one such example – though pitted against each other by the will of their little masters, they closed deals of their own, played a game of their own; because no order was absolute for a demon – there were cracks, and cinches, and backdoor keyholes to wiggle through and come out on top while still fulfilling the given orders. Masters needn't know every little thing. Masters weren't privy to the depths of the demon world – only to whispers, hints, and guesses. True or misleading, perceived or lied about, self-inflicted or limited by Heavenly powers – it didn't matter because no human would ever venture further with any demon than the demon's personal sanctuary somewhere on the borders of this world and that. But then… There were those exceptions. As rare as they could be, as unwanted as they were unintended, and unwelcome besides. The highest climbers always had the longest fall and the most painful landing.)

This eventually lands them in a complete mess because Ciel doesn't know some ground rules and Sebastian doesn't feel like teaching him – he doesn't do anything unless he's being directly ordered these days. It's damaging to his prestige, yes, but it's also sweet revenge for the eternal servitude which he has been cheated into (and at this point his aesthetics and prestige shouldn't even matter, but still).

There is one simple truth, which Ciel manages to oversee. Truly, it isn't all that unexpected for Sebastian, considering that, at the core, Ciel is human and being one heavily influences all instincts and reactions on a subconscious level. Ciel, used to having an almighty butler at his side, used to the thought that this butler can do anything and everything – save maybe rousing the dead (which, as Hannah has proved, isn't all that impossible, after all) – can sometimes slip up and overestimate his loyally eternal servant. (You can't wake up one fine Monday morning and start thinking like a demon; you can't change a lifetime's – even if it's as short as Ciel's was – worth of being a human, because being human is an inborn thing, which has millennia of geared-in mortality concepts tagging along in the subconscious.) He isn't dealing with humans alone anymore. Not all demons are at the same level as Sebastian. There exist older and stronger ones, in front of which all the others have to bow, and who, themselves, bow only to Lucifer himself. Their rank is unachievable, unreachable through any means, though some can still rise to stand side by side with them and be acknowledged as equally great by the rest of Hell's populace, but something about them is still distinctly different – the lacking traces of God's touch, maybe. Since the Firstfallen weren't born of sin like the rest of Hell's native inhabitants, but rather a light tarnished and corrupted and twisted into darkness. They were different at their very core, they had known light and sanctity and true paradisial bliss, and they had no distinctive gender, being able to choose to be one or the other, or both simultaneously, while those born or created later came with predetermined traits and qualities. They had never seen light and didn't know what it was (until one terrible day it burned them via the hand of an angel, but that hadn't happened in, essentially, forever). Thus, Sebastian was made of crow bones, Claude – of a spider's shell, Hannah – of rose ashes – maybe, Ciel – of human flesh… No demon knew his parents. No demon knew how he was formed because giving life was something only the higher castes of Hell knew how to.

Fortune – or maybe its malignant twin Misfortune – had it that Ciel crossed paths with one of the ancients – the Firstfallen – from grace and light to perpetual darkness, the Firstreborn – from angels into demons; and while Sebastian knew to stand down and give way, he conveniently forgot to introduce Ciel to the rest of the Hell's hierarchy. (He was never ordered to, and a good butler never spoke out of place.) She was one of them – a shape-shifting siren of a demon who preferred to take on the female forms. She was one of the very few elders who roamed the land of the living – maybe in envy that such feeble creations of God had been His chosen ones and not his holy angels – not feeding on human souls, but stirring up trouble, as a desperate cry to Heaven for the things the demons had lost and could never regain, or maybe in spite and mockery and sheer joy of destruction, and to ensure that God didn't get all of his precious little souls back. (Not needing to feed was yet another trait setting the Firstfallen apart from the rest of Hell's populace.) For an outsider, it was impossible to tell at a glance who was who, which is why, all things taken into account, Ciel made a terrible blunder in regards to her. The first mistake was not recognising her presence and not stepping away from her region, the second was not leaving immediately, and the third – getting involved with one of her targets. While the Firstreborn didn't target humans to eat their souls the way the demon-born ones did, her kind hunted for souls that would serve as their slaves, toys and pets for the rest of eternity, so that their pained cries would rise to Heaven and tear at God's heart eternally. Hell truly existed – the old-fashioned one, which grandmothers scared their children with and pastors preached of in their sermons – and there the souls of humans who had done wrong in their life and gotten involved with the devil lived in endless agony, burning and dying time and time again. It was, in a way, an amusement park or even a zoo of sorts – if one had to compare it to something found in the human world – for the demonic society. Tradition, as surprising at it may appear to humans, was still in the highest regard for the Firstreborn and they adhered to it with the utmost joy.

What Sebastian noticed, but Ciel didn't even know to look for, was the mark of another demon on the young man who called out to higher powers out of his greed-induced despair. The elder demons didn't leave visible contrast marks in the manner of the demon-born ones; they only left a sign of their presence and involvement, making it a part of the targeted human's aura (much in the same way Claude had been keeping his tabs on Alois after their fruitless initial meeting, eventually propelling the boy into an active contract), a sign that this one was off limits and should be approached under no circumstances. Even if Ciel caught something odd with his not-yet-entirely demonic subconscious mind, his inherited human rationality overruled that and took the upper hand. (Hunger, as Sebastian knew very well from his personal experience, was a vicious master and many of his fellow demons never managed to bring it under even remote control – though, quite frankly, they never even though of it and would have never wanted to.) And while demons do know emotions – they have to, to be able to worm their way past the human defences and take advantage of their unruly minds, twisting their emotions in ways that would propel them into directions favourable for the demons – they remain passive and impartial to them, but the raw feeling of hunger and hatred, and lust can sometimes take over.

When the young man called out for God to aid him in his righteous (and very, very selfish) goals, Ciel stepped up.

"I'm not what you are calling for, but I can give you what you are begging for."

Perhaps the man should have been more shocked at the sudden appearance of a well-mannered and aristocratic child and – by the looks of it – his butler, of which the child was offering… What?

"Who are you?" Perhaps not what the man should have, would have asked.

"I'm offering you a contract, which will give you exactly what you want." For a price, is heavily implied by Ciel's tone, though never voiced out loud – for which there is no need, as this man already knows that favours came for favours.

Sebastian stood by in silence and examined the invisible imprint of another demon on the man. He'd seen it a few times before and knew which rank his little master was about to get involved with – no, he corrected himself, had already crossed – but made no comment on it, said not a word, and bade his time. Small things, he mused to himself, tilting his head slightly to one side, as if intently listening into his little master's conversation with his new contract, small things. But this wasn't revenge. Ciel wasn't Hannah. Ciel wasn't Alois Trancy. In the end, it would only ever be the small things.

While Ciel and his new contractee went over the finer details of their deal, Sebastian calculated how messy this would get. Very, was his conclusion, and he forced back the smile that was pulling at the corners of his lips. Very

Excerpts from a daily life of a lower-class worker

2011-05-25T17:27:15Z

# Contemplating life while walking home from shameless book shopping, which I really shouldn't have done, but damn it, I've been wanting to read them and actually own some of them (some others I bought even though I didn't even know they existed before, but. Cheap. Interesting. Vampirates. IDK, man, I haven't read that one yet and I don't even know why I picked it up in the first place.) for years, even. ONLY TWO BOOKS MISSING FROM MY WISHLIST NOW.
Well, and a lot of manga I wish I owned, but. For as long as their prices are so high. Alas.

# An internal monologue with myself on the subject of dinner: "I want meat. Which is fine and okay. But do I want to cook it? (Remember what happened last time - went up to meat stand, browsed through it, imagined putting a knife to the whole chicken to cut it apart, almost threw up, went for salmon chunks in brine instead.) Yeah. So. Do I want meat?"
Solution: Buy meat anyway and put it in the freezer for indefinite amount of time.

# One of my main commandments: Must stop by the tea shelves. Maybe there's something interesting with discount.
(There - almost - always is.)

# I should probably save this money for something else. My education, for example.
Nah, food it is.

# Another commandment of mine: Always stack up on tea, pasta, bread, groats.

# Youdontneedcandyyoudontneedcandyyoudontneedcandy. Oh, fuck it. I want something disgustingly sweet today.

# ...why is this book marked as discounted on their website, when in the store it's for the full price? >/ I wanted that book two years ago. I should call and ask the ones in charge about this.

# ...except I can't dial out of my phone - I'm past the one month validity term. Damn, I need to renew my credit. (Which is funny, because I always have money on my card and it's always the one or two month validity that expires first.)

# Avocado is the first thing in the world to actually creep me out. Why? a) it tastes like a certain kind of (raw) meat, b) its stone is heart-shaped (the actual muscle, not the ~romantic cutesy design), and c) the stone actually bleeds blood red when cut or bruised (and it also tastes like raw meat despite smelling like fir needles - I bit into it accidentally on purpose). I ate my first avocado in life today, and for whatever incomprehensible reason my brain decided/translated it as eating human-turned-fruit thing. ~~I should probably use this premise for a story or something, ffs.~~
Creeped out. For the first time in life. At the age of 25. Congrats, you weird green fruit. =|

# I paid less for rent (what with the debt I had) than expected. Fuck yesssss. But the earth gas prices are going up again, so the price will climb. Fuck this government. Fuck this world.

# Apparently, we had a country-wide UFO sighting some days ago. Or a bolide, if we believe scientists. Big scary white flash for 3 seconds, in any case. (I missed it. I was sleeping. Would've been fun to see, though.)

# Mom is away in the countryside for unknown amount of time. (Biggest) Part of me hopes she never comes back.

# Figures. Summer comes, and I'm plant-obsessed again. I've been checking ads and hey. Some people sell some interesting stuff for good prices.

# alksjfkdsjaf I FOUND A BEAUTIFUL REPRODUCTION OF A CHINESE PAINTER'S WORK. AND IT'S... UNBELIEVABLY CHEAP, ACTUALLY, AS FAR AS ARTWORKS USUALLY GO. SELF-LOATHING MODE - ON.

# My printer is still fucked up. It refuses to recognise the colour ink cartridge. I think I bought a damaged one (as there's only blue and black ink showing on the test page it printed), but I don't have the check anymore, so I can't go back to them and complainnnn. *woe*

# I'll get some money from a coworker for translating most of her Bachelor's paper. DAMN IT SO ENVIOUS ABOUT THIS. I'VE BEEN DELAYED IN MY EDUCATION-GETTING FOR FAR TOO LONG. D: But YAY, EXTRA POCKET MONEY!

# I hate how loaded the shelves are with Twatlight shit.
But I also lol at the fact that it brought along some - maybe, I don't really know, don't usually read that type of fiction, except for fanfiction (and that's usually pretty bad) - quality vampire and fantasy fiction, which was something you could barely find anywhere in Latvia before. Foreign literature? Consisted mostly of documentaries, art, classics, and crime/horror/detective/adventure books. Classy, bookstores, classy. Apparently we r srs neishun, judging by this.
I don't know what has to happen for anime/manga to receive more attention, though, because up to this point I've only seen a few titles of it here - Princess Ai, Bizenghast, World of Warcraft... and that's it, iirc. Though I've heard there might be something else in one shopping mall for hideous prices, unsurprisingly enough. (Sure, we had an actual anime/manga store, but it was tiny and was always going bankrupt and moving places to the point it became a quest of "Find the anime shop", and I don't think they're renting anything atm. I think, in fact, that their site hasn't been put up yet ever since it went down a year or so ago. But maybe I'm wrong about that one.)

# I keep looking back at that avocado stone, feeling ~uneasy. akdhfkdsf I think it just changed its colour to a more skin-like tone. And now the cuts I made into it look like clotted blood. D:

# I HAD SOME ICON SETS TO MAKE THAT ARE DUE SOMETIME SOON, I SHOULD PROBABLY GO WORK ON THAT.

# And for KHR fans on my list - there's a fun challenge comm write_and_run that's on its first round atm. Go take a look? It has some nice fic submitted.

# A few days ago I received an odd letter. Which, I'll just quote for convenience's sake:

"Dear Laura

Hi how are you. I am Kamil from London. I am English teacher. I will come to Riga/ Latvia for holiday in June and also I will have some business there. I will stay for almost one month. I had a friend in Riga but she is now in Germany. I do not want to be alone there. I need a friend who speaks a little English to go out together to restaurant, opera, cinema , restaurants, nature, shopping, social, etc I am interested in companionship and friendship and having good time. It is not about sex. But I want you to stay with me in hotel or apartment. I can cook good international meals too! I can also teach you English and bring you simple English stories and language books. I know you need to give up your time or work for me, So I pay for this. I will pay you fifty euros for each day you stay with me and of course I will pay for all other expenses. You can stay with me for one week or more because I may also travel to Tallinn. You are welcome if you wish to come with me. I chose
you because I like you. You look very beautiful, nice nad kind and intelligent. I hope you can understand my English. If not you can translate at Google Translate. Or I will do it for you now I hope it is not bad.

I wait for your answer quickly. If you do not want I will ask another girl. Thank you.
Kamil

[hideous translation follows]"

First I was like WTF. Then LOL. And then "simple English stories and language books"? Fucking insulting, man. So I guess my mistake was replying to this moron in the first place, but. I'm an arrogant bitch when confronted with something like this. So this happens:

Hi, Kamil,

I'm doing great, thank you. I hope you're doing good as well.
Thank you for your compliments - I feel flattered. But I'm afraid I speak more than just "a little" English and "simple English stories" will no longer cut it for me. In fact, I would need an extremely advanced language book to learn something new. And playing a call girl for somebody is the last thing in this world that could make me drop my work for a whole month, no matter what the promised payment might be. In addition, I have a policy to not live with a man I don't know (or barely know), so that part of your offer is in high discord with my value system.

Also, - and I do apologise if this comes off as insulting, but - your English isn't good enough for you to be an actual teacher - you have such grating mistakes in the email. I just have a very hard time believing that this is the knowledge level of an actual English teacher.

Now, maybe somewhere out there is a girl who would gladly agree to your conditions, but it's not me. Sorry. And best of luck for you elsewhere.

All the best,
Laura

P.s. The Google Translate turned your letter into something highly amusing. It insists that you're actually a woman. Thank you for the (unintended) laugh."

Google translate also turned me into a man, so that was another thing for me to face/palm over. I should probably re-translate the translation for shits and giggles.

He responds with:

"Hi Laura,

I am pleased you are doing well. We could still seal the deal: you will be my erudite professor and I will be your humble pupil. I am sure you can educate me amply and I will willingly abide by your advanced orders. I am glad that the Google Latvianization gave you some girlish giggles. I value your value system and i vacillate to violate it in anyway. Yes, it is not a usual propsal, but this is the point: why should we let ourseves be overwhlmed by the value systems of our daily routine: endless repitition of the same. I wouldn't have needed to write such a propsal if I had sought a call girl, and you never look like one: I am sorry you surmised such a silly idea. Now you make me really miss being in the companion of a gret character: your piercing eyes, though a bit intimidating, genuinely reflect the soul of a genius. Why do you deny my right to dream, and dream that this dream may somewhat somewhere come true?

Best regards,

K

PS: I didn't Google Translate this as I was afarid it might this time aggressivly insist that you are accidentally a man and this would make me cry. But you can try it to see what would happen!"

FUCKING TABLES-TURNING CHEAPO. I can see "I pay you for sex" coming a mile away. Also, lol TOO LATE. GOOGLE TRANSLATE ALREADY REFERRED TO ME AS A MAN FROM THE GET-GO.
Also. "girlish giggles". Girlish. Giggles. Man, I want to fucking kill you at this point. >/
And it all concludes with:

"A no is still a no, and it will remain a no no matter what kind of arguments you come up with.

Live with it."

"An iconic English judge says when a woman emphatically reiterates 'no,no' three times, it definitely means 'yes'."

"Maybe, but there were four 'no's, so that theory falls through.
And in any case - that judge deserves a kick to his stomach for being a chauvinistic pig."

(I was going to say balls, but. IDK why I changed my mind and tamed myself there.)
And lo, and behold! The grand conclusion:

"Hi Laura

Four no's according to that judge's theory means entusiastic yes. However I agree with your judgement and I am glad you are a feminist and there is a sof feminine side to your dogmatic intellectual arrogance. I am sure had you been my wife we would often have had strong sensible arguments ending everytime with erotic peace-making and strengthened mutual respect. I really admire your sharp mind, mild underneath sensuality and jealous self-confidence and wonder just 24 hours with you, what a wonderful expereince might be. You deserve all respect and I wish I could kiss your tender fingers to show it. Forgive me if I have offended you in any stupid way. You are uniquely you and would stay so. Big pardonic hug. Have a good night!"

Yeah, moron, and - for future reference - don't send this letter to two girls at the same time - of which the second girl's email was added ~~six~~ five times. Man, she must've been happy receiving five copies of this.
I didn't reply. Why bother feeding trolls and idiots?

Latvia = the land of cheapest whores. This is an actual fact. Men from all around the - Europe certainly - world come here to fuck our girls who ask for it... pennies.
Such a great country we are where everything is expensive as hell. Except for the girls. They're cheap as dirt.

lightrobber @ 2011-04-30T01:31:00

2011-04-29T22:31:47Z

woodwind, WHAT THE HELL?

Or did you just migrate to a new journal and I failed to notice? =/

lightrobber @ 2011-04-04T00:13:00

2011-04-03T21:14:02Z

Right now, somewhere out there somebody is laughing his/her/its little ass off in joy because kuroshitsuji got slammed with the strikethrough for the second time in it's existence.

I applaud you, crazy anon, I do. But I would also like to point out that you misaimed greatly. Your target was elsewhere. The Princess is always in another castle.

...UNLESS, of course, you were aiming for the castle to begin with.

lightrobber @ 2011-04-01T21:24:00

2011-04-01T18:32:28Z

For those who are sick and tired of being pranked all through April 1st, I give you something solid. (I'm not saying that links to Rick Rolling aren't solid - I like that song, actually *fails* -, but.)

|| What the eye can't see ||
Death Note
Light, mentions of L
469 words
G+ with some odd/weird/disturbing notions
There's somebody watching him from the dark. There's somebody out there who knows. There is no one.

|| One Thousand Promises ||
Saiyuki
Gojyo, Sanzo
645 words
PG+ with some mention of gore
Maybe some promises were meant to be made to never be kept. Contemplation.

|| Angels walking among us ||
Du-ra-ra-ra!!
Shizuo
536 words
G
Angels are living among us and you wouldn't believe your eyes and ears if somebody told you, if somebody showed you. And you know... it's better that way. Contemplative.

|| For a moment we were ||
Darker than BLACK
Hei, Carmine/Havoc
441 word(s)
PG
They never had it with fireworks and moments of stolen breath.

|| Nights will keep our secrets ||
Yuugiou
Malik Ishtar, Kisara, Thief King Bakura
684 words
PG-13- with some sexual hints
In the darkness, they don't have to fear anything. In the darkness, they can simply... be.

|| Molten snow is only water ||
Yuugiou
Seto Kaiba
780 words
G
Snow is beautiful because it is cold, but after it melts, it turns into colourless water.

|| Across the Sand ||
Yuugiou
Thief King Bakura, Kisara
543 words
G
Across the desert sand they run and chase. Across the desert sand they live.

lightrobber @ 2011-03-31T12:39:00

2011-03-31T09:39:51Z

Guys, please give us a hand in voting, as we're having a bunch of ties over at vg_battle. It's the deciding turn, so pretty, pretty please? *bribes you forever*

OVER HERE, please~ ♥

I've been meaning to post about a lot of things lately

2011-03-24T00:11:42Z

But for some reason all my will to type it up dies the moment I reach to type in "livejournal" in the address bar.
So to get me started (because it's a fact that I get rambly once I get talkin'), a meme which I got through getting tagged by gantai. ♥

1) Tag eight people. Don't refuse to do that. Don't tag who tagged you.
2) People who have been tagged must write their answers on their journal and replace any question that they dislike with a new, original question.

I tag you. Go on. See if you can live with your conscience. *cheats*

1. Make a list of 5 things that are in your bag:
- my wallet
- my passport
- a make-up bag
- a pocket knife
- pens

2. What is the significance of your journal name?
The meaning behind it is 'Stealer of Light', (not 'stealing is easy' as my classmate thought when she first read it) and it all began with a fic I thought up for Star Wars way back when, which I never wrote and in which I had a character with the last name Lightrobber who was - idontevenrememberwhat - a spy/rebel/something from a destroyed planet (like, blown to smithereens while she was being held captive for who remembers what kind of reason on a spaceship - which might or might not have been the Death Star - and forced to watch the destruction). At one point I figured that 'Lightrobber' was too cool a name to be stuck in some stupid fanfic which will never see the daylight, so I made it my online handle. ~~And it also fits my writing style, as I generally stick to darker themes in my fiction.~~
/Star Wars nerd

3. What is one item of clothing you wish you could always wear?
I was going to say that there isn't such a thing, but then I stopped and actually thought about it. Long coats. I can't find any that would fit my length and style requirements. D:
And I don't have a sewing machine to make one myself.

4. What do you plan to do after this meme?
Maybe go to bed. Maybe watch some CSI. Maybe play some stupid addictive game on the internets.

5. What are you listening to right now?
Hollywood Hills by Sunrise Avenue. On repeat.

6. Who was the last person you hugged?
I think... Yuliya. My classmate. On February 14.

7. What was the last thing you downloaded?
Hollywood Hills by Sunrise Avenue.

8. What did you do today?
Slept. Ate all of the cookies mom made. Danced around the room. Watched the "Battle of Psychics" - a Russian TV show starring people with all kinds of psychic powers; usually mediums, clairvoyants, healers, witches.

9. What was the last game you played?
Either Bookworm or Bejwelled 2.

10. What websites do you always visit when you go online?
Livejournal, Yahoo!, Google, Dragcave, Livejournal. It's a cursed loop.

11. What irritates you nearly on a daily basis?
Smokers.

12. If you could afford to go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Japan. I've been wanting to go there for nearly a decade. Long before anime even appeared in my life.

13. What did you want to be when you were a kid?
I wanted to read news in TV, be an actor, singer, writer, ballerina. Anything connected with verbal arts, really.

14. Ever had a weird dream? What was it about?
I've often had them, but the one I remember the brightest happened some ~10(???) years ago in which I was burned to death while hiding under a table in the veranda of the house of my childhood by what appeared to be a dragon. I inhaled fire, man. And woke up.

15. What are you doing this weekend?
I'm. Working, I think.

16. If you could play any musical instrument, which one would you play?
A guitar. I keep looking at the prices and the adverts of people selling them and keep promising myself that one day. One day. But there was a moment when I wanted to play a flute. I adore how they sound.

17. What's the one thing you need the most now?
...I'm afraid to jinx myself on this one, but... nothing, really. I've learned that I can exist with less money than I initially thought, so I'm kinda okay-ish on that front. (More is always welcome, of course.) For my mom to find a job ~~to get her off my neck finally~~. Resolve to polish my first finished novel and get it published.
Oh, oh. A boyfriend. I'm sick and tired of being alone all the time.

18. If there's a zombie-apocalypse, how would you prepare for it?
*snort* There will be no zombie apocalypse. There will be the-world-shuts-down-because-everything-is-computerised-and-the-machines-decided-to-say-'fuck-this'-to-humanity. I'll laugh, take the last bus home to the countryside - or I'll just walk: it'd take me only a week or so, depending on the weather and time of the year; don't think I'd be walking in winter though; getting a bike is always an option too -, and proceed living like my forefathers did - farming the land, growing vegetables, chopping firewood, sewing my own clothes, singing folk songs, and living in candlelight. Life will be awesome.

19. What was the last thing you ate?
Cookies, raisins, and just now emptied a bowl of ķīselis - which is something like fruit-juice jelly, but with a more viscous texture (think thick honey).

20. A feature that you like about yourself.
My hair. And eyes ~~who apparently like to change colour from grey to blue, depending on my mood and lighting~~.

I remember wanting to post about some depressing stuff, but I forgot all about that. I don't even remember what exactly was so depressing to make me write about it here in el-jay. Other than...
HOLY SHIT, IT'S END OF MARCH ALREADY! WHERE'D THREE MONTHS OF MY LIFE GO? DDD:
TIME, STAND FUCKING STILL.
It's not like anything particularly interesting is going on, but still. Still.

Also, I think I feel like changing my icons. And I think this time I might replace a good deal of them, unlike last time when I stared at them for half an hour before deciding that all of them held too many dear memories and I simply couldn't get rid of any of them. ~~No matter how badly made they are.~~ I've acquired some standards, you see.

Also. YGO 5D's, I'd like to have a word with you. WHEN DID YOU BECOME SO AWESOME???? I look away for a moment, and BAM. Timeskip. Awesome designs. Crow. Holy fucking shit. Crow. Yuusei in a lab coat. Ruka is in really fucking cute clothes. And, and, and. KIRYUUUUU. ALKSDHFKJADKF WHY DO I SUDDENLY LIKE YOU SO MUCH WHEN I HATED YOUR GUTS AT THE MOMENT OF YOUR INITIAL INTRODUCTION AKSDHJFKADSHJFLAKSDHLFAS. D:

Oh, and here's some pimpin' too, for good measure.

Title: Ghost of a Rose Part I: O, faithful eternity!
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji
Pairing/Characters: Hannah, Sebastian, Ciel.
Word count: 4874
Warnings: Demonic shenanigans, some violence, a dash of angst, and a myriad of some minor disturbing notions in-between.
Summary: Kill me, she said. He didn't. Maybe it's a good thing he didn't, after all. Post-series.

|| THIS LINK HAS BEEN FIX'D. *fails sfm, orz* ||

Yes, I finally tackled multi-chapter fiction. And already this isn't the only one that's in progress. What is wrong with me? =/

I have only one thing to say.

2011-03-14T14:32:43Z

And that's

OTL

2011-02-19T23:20:35Z

I've. Become a lurker now. This is because nothing generally interesting is happening in my life. Or, at least, nothing I'd deem worthy of jotting down here.

Valentine's Day, for example, was pretty epic - Chie, an exchange student from Japan came for a two-week visit again and we spent the 14th hanging out for the best of the day. And normally? I hate V-day. But this one was fun. And I met with my classmates again. And chickened out on partaking in a Japanese speech contest. (Well, I had to send in the sign-up sheet by the 18th. But. I couldn't come up with a theme to speak on.) God damn it why am I such a wimp? (I don't feel comfortable with public speaking if I can't improvise. And if I don't know a language well enough to improvise if I suddenly forget a line... well, I'm fucked.) All the school's groupwork presentations? I made them up on the spot. I never prepared any speeches, just got out and rambled off and got straight A's for performance.
Fuuuuu, I still remember this one time when I brought up Freud when discussing the meaning of dreams in one literary work and the lit. teacher countered with a question on Freud's thoughts - no, not on yaoi - dreams. I rambled off on a tangent until I remembered an off-hand article I'd read a year ago and spat out the answer amid some more off-hand rambling. And then my groupmate who was ~~supposedly~~ an expert on Freud also started answering the same question, feeling that I hadn't given the right answer (how dare I be knowledgeable on her dear Freud! Blashphemy, right?) and the teacher was, "...that's what she just said." That girl's face was priceless. My raised-at-her-eyebrow made everything funnier too. I almost-worshipped that lit.teacher. She was a mean snark with plenty a vicious comeback. OT, OTL.

In regards to my new job - things seem to be going okay-ish there. I'm definitely hired, though I haven't yet signed the contract. (Supposed to do that on Tuesday.) They had some trouble with computers and couldn't print out the papers and our boss is, for the most time, out of the country, so it's a miracle he shows up. Well, he does show up. When he needs the money. *snerk* And the vice-director broke her leg when taking the other new girl on a tour to show her around the stores. So the whole 'signing contracts' ordeal got postponed even more. We were supposed to sign them on February 1, but... they forgot about us because the accountant had to deal with lotsa shit, taking over everything and. That didn't go down too well.
Also, there was something weird going on with my whole employment thing. I got moved from the store at which I originally applied to a different one and without really given a choice. Which was weird because there was another new girl who came a week later and she, for some reason, was left there, even though I should've had the first hand, seeing how I was accepted there first. alkdsjfklashf I sensed some powerplay from one of my semi-colleagues at that store. (That lady's got some serious issues, up in the attic and in personal life.) It definitely felt like somebody had pulled the strings in favour of the other girl. God damn it. I hate this kind of behind-the-back shit.

On the flip side though, at the new place I get to work more days than when they had given me initially. I would've worked 14 days with those people, but now I get what? 20 days? A.f-ing.+. Also, the irony of life. I'm back with Russian-speaking people. A.f-ing.gain. Eventually, this will lead to me forgetting my native tongue. On the - yet another - flip side, I'm learning to accept both the language and the people who speak it. Despite our country's past and the long-standing hatred of Russians, I'm slowly learning to be more accepting of them. DOESN'T MEAN I'M NOT BITTER ABOUT BEING THRUST INTO THIS NEW PLACE WITHOUT A CHOICE. =/ The two women I'm working with are nice though, so all's not bad there.

Maaaan, I don't know how I'm going to survive this month. (What's left of it, anyway.) I'm down to my last $100 and that. Doesn't even cover my rent. :'D
Fuck you, ITN, fuck you and your stupid "we give you 25% of your income ($900) and take 20$ off your pay because you're using a different bank than the one you were advised to sign up for." Oh, well. Looks like I'll be without the internets in March. ffffuuu. Well, there's that "make country pay back the overpaid taxes" plot which I'll get to work on on Monday (thank you, Ksyusha, for reminding me of this) TOO LATE DAMN IT I DON'T THINK THEY'LL RETURN ME THE EXCESS MONEY BY THE END OF THIS MONTH FUUUUUU. OH WELL.

Also will have to figure out a nice little present for Chie since she's leaving on 25th and there's supposedly a party for her before that which we still haven't agreed on. I have no days off after 21st until the 28th. :'D (Well, I had one on 24th, but Ksyu needs a day off then and I already switched with her.) I'mma go suggest we throw a party on 23rd and I'll crash in on it at 8 PM after work. WILL BE JUST D. FINE.

alksfhkasd HOW DO YOU WRITE A WINTER END/SPRING BEGINNING GREETING IN JAPANESE? akfdahfkjshdkhf *flail* 's going to be in Japanese/Latvian anyway, because Chie is learning my native tongue. *so f-ing proud right nao* And she's actually doing a damn fine job of it, having spent here only one year. (She's a monster, really. She tackled both Latvian and Russian in one year and she actually talks/understands a good deal of it. More than I when somebody speaks in Japanese, I'd wager.)

Also, I noticed that I'd missed out on some grade A batshit wank in Kuroshit fandom middle of last November. THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR BEING TOO POOR TO AFFORD INTERNET. It was a trainwreck and it was hilarious. Also, entitled.
Oh, and speaking of November - I have my first Sci-Fi novel all finished and put on a backburner for polishing. I didn't finish it during NaNo (even though that was my goal last year, as I'd proven to myself the year before that I could write 50k). I finished in December during my stay at Gran's. And I already started on book two (from a series of five) and plan to work on #3 during this year's NaNo. And this is a really BIG accomplishment for me because I never.ever.ever.finish my multi-chapter works. Want proof? In 2004, I started a YGO EPIC ADVENTURE & OTHER CRAZY SHIT fic "Twisted Games of Fate". I stopped on chapter 46 to rewrite the beginning because it sucked. And that was only 1/3 of the first part of TGoF written out. The rest is all in my head. There was/is also a second part where shit hits the fan even harder. (In this, I gave a reason why Bakura and Malik weren't there for Waking the Dragons/Doma Arc, expanded on what happened to Paradius after Doma disbanded, covered what the hell happened to our little computer intelligence Noa, made Y!Malik come back and stuffed him into a female hostbody (and gave him PMS), brought back a bunch of dead people, killed some more, and then went and fucked it all up the ass in part two where people kept dying, card games remained relatively unplayed, Amelda and Kaiba fucked, past returned to bite them all in their collective asses and some people drove off a cliff. I am going to sit down and finish this one day, I swear. Even if it takes me forever.) In 2006, I already sat down to rewrite it and since then the first chapter has had seven edits. Seven. Edits. And not much else. Fuck this shit. D: (But I /will/ finish it. I've finally settled on one very good opening.)

But back to my novel - and inflated self-importance - I love it to bits and pieces. And I couldn't help myself but laugh my head off when I wrote some scenes because if this thing ever gets a fanbase, I already know what the shipwars will look like. Incest. Twincest. Hatesex. Love/hate. At least one threesome. Rape left and right. I'm-hesitant-to-call-it pedophilia (it's lacking cute masters and sexy butlers, so I don't think people will jump on it, but I digress). And the only OTP I have there is getting a bad ending and I bet it's going to be bashed into the ground anyway. (No wonder, since it's het. Nobody appreciates good het these days. =/) Also, heaps of mindfuck. And possibly necrophilia. I just really need to polish this thing.

I feel like I have more stuff to say, but.
There's that part where I wanted to share some hilarious bits and pieces from the time of being a Travel Agent. I should work on that and possibly put it up sometime soon before I've forgotten everything. The injokes were genius, sexist, and overkill.

I hope my flist is doing well. ILU, GAIS. ♥

A stunning pearl of wisdom.

2011-02-12T21:50:29Z

B.B. loves to dance in the dark
'cause when L's looking he falls apart.

This is what I used to often sing at work when I was still a travel agent, as I tried to find the cheapest and sanest option for a flight to a destination somewhere deep in Africa where practically no airline flies. Or Antananarivo.
Discuss.

Request fills.

2011-02-11T16:28:13Z

Finally.

For usagiko - Haine. || PG || Forgiveness Is A Cold Gun - They only deserved this much. For Haine's robbed childhood. For Lily's nightmares. And for the blood of everyone else whose names he no longer remembered. Haine/nameless scientist.

For awakenyourfaith:

Noa Kaiba. || G || Just A Flicker On Your Screen - Once, he was a normal human child just like you and me. Now he is only that flicker across your computer screen.

Izaya. || G || I Am A Game You Play - He's there to play. And maybe be played. Izaya vs. the world.

L. || G || Perfect For Tearing Apart The Dark - He is a detective, but he could have been anything he wanted.

Fandom bullshit

2011-02-11T08:40:02Z

Is going to be just what the title says.

"Hope to see more from you in the future."

Yes, yes, wonderful. And thank you. I really appreciate all the seldom reviews I get because I generally get nice people commenting on my fics. But how about instead of looking toward my future you check out my past? 'cause I have what? Nine? Ten? fics for this same pairing.
Oh, of course, you wouldn't notice because I don't exactly clutter my FF.net profile with pairings I write for (maybe I should, though? So people can actually wade through all my fic.). And my name isn't even a passing mention on WikiFic list under Revengeshipping/Warshipping (Oh, and Revengeshipping? Is so much better a name for Seto/Amelda. It's actually the first I found in use and used myself for all of a year before another fan came around to inform me that 'u wuz doin eet rong'. Thank you.)

And then I was reminded of why exactly I flounced this pairing, again. With added bonuses. Because 75% of the fandom write it in a manner that makes we want to strangle something. Preferably the author. I've seen precious few fics where they are written well. The depressing majority veers into a rather deconstructive area with the characterisation. And 5% of good characterisation seem to be in fics who are on an apparently permanent hiatus.
What triggered this was a piece of shit I read about one character tied down and blindfolded while four others kissed him and he had to guess who it was. And it contained an author's self-insert. And fuck you, author. Fuck you with a flagpole. [steals and twists a line from LittleKuriboh] Your fic wasn't cute or hot or anything like that. It was - and I don't use this word ever - sick. And retarded. If you happened in-universe, Dartz would have your fucking soul on his platter and he'd throw the card containing it in the fire, making sure even ashes weren't left and I hope it fucking hurts into the afterlife.

Reason I crawled back to Seto/Amelda after years of abandonment? I'm a sucker for hate/love relationship and this was my first actual ship for it. No, YBakura/Malik doesn't count. They're accomplices. And yeah, Sanzo/Gojyo, 6918, Seishirou/Subaru and anything else on my shiplist that fits the bill cannot fill in the gap. You never forget your first love, after all. ~~Though I remember mine with hilarity and oh.my.god.you were so stupid, self; and I'm glad it never progressed. Wasn't even love in the first place, so.~~ These boys have angst and a possible happy ending - a feat no other aforementioned pair has.

So yeah, I'm petty and still butthurt for not being on the WikiFic shippers list as a "known Revengeshipping/Warshipping" author even though I have 9 fics for them which, I believe, is practically the most any other shipper has written, unless I'm missing something. From where I stand, the majority of the mentioned writers don't have more than 2-3 fics. And I have nine. NINE. GODMOTHERFUCKINGDAMNIT. And it's not like you can miss my name. If you search for this pairing on ff.net and hit page two of three (56 fics in total) I'm practically dominating it on par with dark_age_pearl who has the same number of fics I do and who used to be a good ship friend and valued otherwise, but we fell apart because of... I don't even know. She defriended me one day and that was that. I didn't even get a PM or a sideways comment/email/chatmessage. Yeah, whatever. Fuck you too. I AM STILL BUTTHURT ABOUT THAT TOO, YOU KNOW. YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND, FFS. I thought we had more in common than one pairing for you to just up and leave without even a hint. But whatever. Your choice. Moving on.
Hilarious part being that I'm at the top of the list for the Mai/Valon pairing which is apparently Conquestshipping with my back-then one fic. Reason why I continued to write for them was, I figured - well, why the fuck not? If I'm on the list, let's write something to have a reason to be all the way up there. Make the shippers proud, etc.
Man, at least I've got the Kadaj/Yazoo part covered. I'll have more than 150 fics for them once I'm done with the challenges and I see only one author who could possibly beat me on it. >_>

Yeah, I'm back to writing Seto/Amelda and it's a broken pairing for me now and will always be because it brings back some pretty bad associations with it. I can't fully enjoy it anymore, but I can't just up and drop it. I'm in a trainwreck and I'm in there willingly. Oh, and I'll keep being butthurt and hateful whenever I wade in too deep with this ship, but it's a price I'm prepared to pay.

So here's the tl;dr bottomline: I'm butthurt about shit in fandom. And I deal.

On a not-so-depressing note - I watched the Making of Kuroshit II. OMG, HANNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. ♥¬♥ sfuesffjgksaklasjdlkgfjdsakhfkjsa
The ending to it was a fucking trainwreck though. Giant mecha? A UFO? Porno? of the Hannah/Ciel variety? YES, PLZ. <3 Claude epically tapdancing. William/cherry trees. Mpreg. CAN SOMEBODY SHOOT SEBASTIAN, PLEASE? SHOOT HIM DEAD. No, wait, don't. Sebastian/Alois. FUCKING WRITE IT FANDOM OR I SWEAR I WILL-- Lol, Moon-to-Earth is my new OTP. Yeaaaaaahhhhhhhhh. Horatio Caine/black sunglasses. It's snowing outside right now.
...yup, trainwreck alright.

EDIT: Because I realised I didn't bring up Muraki, not even in an icon. I CANNOT HAVE A POST WITHOUT MURAKI. /DRAMA
...well. That's also taken care of. Moving on.

Ghost of a Rose. Fic. Kuroshitsuji. Hannah/Sebastian.

2011-01-23T14:40:20Z

Okay, dear Kuroshitsuji-knowing part of my flist. (And I think that's almost all of you.) I need some crits on this unfinished work of er, art. SPOILERS FOR SEASON II in case if there's someone who still hasn't seen the end of it.
I need to know how OOC I made Sebastian. This part is Hannah/Sebastian, but the tables are going to turn in the second part.

Word count: 2112
Rating: PG+

Ghost of a Rose

They meet again.
Centuries have passed, millions of human lives have dwindled away, and the world has greatly changed when they meet again. He has retained little of his former grace and magnificence: a haunted look in his eyes, an eternal longing for something unspoken which he cannot attain. She has changed only a little bit, though not in his eyes. To him, she is completely different now than when they had initially met; while in reality she has remained much the same, if only wiser now.
They meet, eye to eye. For a moment they only stand there, sizing each other up. She knows the look in his eyes, though he tries to hide it, knows and smiles lightly.

"You lived."

She tilts her head in a confirmatory nod, but doesn't elaborate; doesn't gloat, seeing his poor state. She just stands there before him in her demonic attire. With great displeasure he finds that he can no longer compare.

"You still serve him."

Not a question, he notes and hates her. Because it's her – the one who made it happen; the one who fulfilled the most demonic of contracts. The ultimate. The forbidden. The one punishable by Lucifer himself. And yet here she stands – liberated and free to roam as she desires.

"Sebastian Michaelis."

His name burns through him like a spear, like the mark of an eternally chained demon. She bears no name in contrast, nothing to call her. Well-fed, but without a current contract. He can feel the power emanating from her – the one he used to know as Hannah Anafeloz.

"Still serving a cruel little master who now feeds on human souls and leaves you starving."

A cold chill runs down Sebastian's back and he hasn't had that too often in his life. Maybe all of once when he witnessed the power of a real angel, not the joke Angela had been. A genderless being of light and goodwill whose presence had made him double over and whose name had made his tongue shrivel up and wilt, unable to even bear the sound of it. He had been young and foolish back then and it had been centuries since another truly holy being had come down to earth. This feeling was very similar to that one. If she knew, so did the others. He had been a great demon once, feared and respected, even among the ranks of his own kind. Who, it seemed, were all mocking him now if the way she looked at him was anything to go by.

"Will you cling desperately to your aesthetics until they erode you from existence?" she asks impassively and stares him straight in the eye, but he cannot bear her gaze for long; not anymore.

Aesthetics are all that is left for him in this world. Aesthetics, and an eternal contract which saps him.

"How much does he give you? A soul per century?"

He can feel her eyes burning down on him and hates himself for being unable to look up, to straighten himself and shrug her off the same way he had done once, when her name was still Hannah Anafeloz.
He doesn't know what compels him to answer her.

"A quarter." His tongue barely moves, creating words in a language he can barely speak, as it is not one he uses to obey his master's orders. "Soul," he adds, and his voice drops even lower until it is a mere sound with no discernible syllables.

Hannah says and does nothing for a while. When she finally moves, Sebastian is startled to feel her nails score his cheek and nudge his chin up. She tries to examine the faded hellfire in his eyes, but Sebastian slaps her hand away and snarls at her to stay away. She smiles, her face splitting in a knowing grin.

"Would you like to be liberated?"

Sebastian stares at her, completely speechless.

"Do you want to be liberated?"

Does he? Sebastian no longer knows. The contract binding him to his little master is not eternal. Or wouldn't be if his aesthetics were not the deciding ones in the way he chose to exist.

"How did you survive?" he asks instead. He will not, cannot ask anything else right now. He cannot think about anything else, about himself and who he was, once upon a time when her name was still Hannah Anafeloz. He clings to that notion because it is the last clear point of reference in his life, one before everything blurred into perpetual starvation.

"Death did not want me."

Sebastian glowers. It is a vague answer, but she is a demon and won't give a straight reply unless she deems it necessary.

"Is he alive too?" he almost snarls, remembering the one who had started it all. Claude Faustus. He should be nameless now.

"No." And there is something like a small wonder – or is that amusement? – in her voice. "When I woke, I found that I still lived, but he was no longer."

At least in this Sebastian can take some solace. No one else would come around to taunt him. No one else to mock and ridicule him but his little master who was growing more and more prolific by the day, raking in soul after soul.

"You did not answer," she reminds him, but he has no answer, only questions to shield himself from the undeniable.

"Why are you here?"

"You killed my servants," she states flatly.

"You got them involved," he snaps back before adding a thoughtful, "So they were yours, after all. I though he didn't have the might..."

She hums thoughtfully.

"Neither had you."

He takes offence and makes it known.

"Many offered to pledge allegiance. I had no interest, or the need for pawns. I was quite capable of handling everything alone. Of course," he smiles quite viciously, and bitterly besides, "a more fragile being..."

"You were," she laughs, interrupting him. "You were once before. Now there is not a single worm in the underworld who would approach you."

"And yet here you stand," he bites back and the fire burns within him anew. If he is lower than a worm in the hierarchy of Hell, then what is she now? She who died and came back again, she who committed the sin of allowing a human soul to transform into something it wasn't supposed to become, ever. Souls were food: nothing more, nothing less.
She sizes him up briefly and decides to go with the truth.

"I need servants, and there is no one who would match my requirements."

"Aren't you aiming too high?"

"Aren't you looking too low?"

During all this they have remained still: two unmovable mountains in the rapids of eternity, and behind her there is storm, but behind him - empty seas of salt, sand, and desolation. His pride and aesthetics speak louder than his hunger and he would rather kill her than become her servant, exchanging one immortal master for another. She reads the answer in his eyes and smirks.
Sebastian's little master is stirring – a sign that he has not yet fully crossed over – and Hannah needs to depart. She leans in to Sebastian's ear to give him parting words to consider.

"I still have it with me."

If she came like a whisper on the wind, then she tears away like a typhoon, making her presence known and Sebastian struggles to suppress the flinch from both her words – which he hopes to have misunderstood – and his master's reaction. Through Alois Trancy and his contract Ciel also knows Hannah's signature and though it was only a brief moment centuries ago, he has the ability to recognise it. Whether he has or not, Ciel doesn't comment on it. He merely stares at Sebastian with unreadable eyes and his butler can only guess at what is on his mind.

Just having woken after a three-days sleep after the fulfilling of his latest contract, Ciel already desires a new one. He has noticed that with each passing century, with each fulfilled contract the time he spends sleeping away the exhaustion shortens. Three more and he will not need to sleep at all just like Sebastian, Ciel calculates. Sebastian has taken notice of it as well and knows that his conversion to a full-blooded demon is drawing close. He thinks of this as he serves his master food on empty platters and pours hot water from a teapot which hasn't seen fire in entirely too long. He dresses his master, taking special care of laces and tricky buttons, making him highly presentable before listening to his orders for the day – all mundane tasks while his little master chooses his next contract. He refuses to be summoned like a dog – he'd had enough of that with the Queen of England – and now he prefers to be the one to handpick his next entertainment, taking after Sebastian and failing only a little bit. After all, Sebastian is still the one to go about all the mundane tasks the new contractor wishes to be done and which Ciel has never known how to do and would never lower himself to even attempt at. He is still lord Phantomhive, even in this new life.

Sebastian thinks of all this for the next month. Hannah does not show herself before him again, but her words linger behind and he is almost certain that he has understood her parting message. He cannot suppress a shudder when thinking about it, but whether it is disgust, hatred, or anticipation he cannot tell. Either which is fine. Either which gives him something to mull over; and a thought which has already settled itself in his mind is starting to grow and form.

The month passes and the quarter of a soul which he was promised is never delivered. He hides his disappointment and does not question his master; has learned not to.

And one day, Hannah is back. Or rather – he knows that she is nearby and goes to seek her out. She has two demons at her side and when Sebastian arrives at her place, her new servants are finishing up the pieces of a soul which she'd split between the three of them. So she has not waited on him - that thought stings a little, but it is a pleasant kind of pain, one which he had almost forgotten existed. The look passing over Sebastian's features is not lost on her, but she does not comment, does not jeer. She turns her back on the two young demons and directs all of her attention to him, waiting for him to speak first, but Sebastian cannot find the right words. He'd thought of many on his way here, but nothing had seemed appropriate.

"Do you," he starts and stumbles several times, his own voice betraying him. He is broken; breaking, and she is the only one who tells him that he can seal all the cracks again. "Do you really have it?"

Hannah does not smile, does not say a word. She only nods.

"Then…" There is desperate hope in the way he says that word.

She doesn't promise anything. She opens her arms for him and he takes a step forward and collapses against her, shaking in her embrace like a child, and there are no words strong enough to describe his disgust with himself at that moment. He hates himself for letting her hold him like this, he hates her for creating the contract which dragged him down, and he hates the two young demons who stare at him as though he is some sort of an amusing creature. But he is desperate and hopeful, and breaking, and... it's such a human thing – to feel – those words come to him from somewhere in the past. He has heard them before, but he cannot quite remember where, so he only glares at the two demon children. Earlier he would have considered them being naught but mere vermin. After a while they turn away and return to devouring the last crumbs of their meal.
Meanwhile, Hannah has begun speaking. Her voice is low, meant only for his ears, and with her every word Sebastian finds himself sinking deeper and deeper. Her voice is what he remembers it to be – slow poison and hissing of a snake, but right now he cannot live without that. He needs to poison himself thoroughly to complete what he is setting out to do. For he is no longer a magnificent demon on par with the firstborns, the ones chased out of heaven. He is Sebastian Michaelis - a wretched butler, seeking liberation.

Porn edition.

2011-01-19T11:37:02Z

Whisperer - Because smilypie knows that I want to. Claude/William. Glasses.

Cruelty Has Many Faces - yamikakyuu; shower sex. SuzaLulu. And I'm sorry, but I think I fucked this one up royally.

Distracting - Because I promised yumemiya to rectify the lack of Bruno/Yuusei porn.