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Similar Deviations
This will never be
He's a demon
I'm a human.
Love will never reach us.
I'm scared.
He knows.
I wish this will be.
It will never be...
I love these too :D

They so cute >.<

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You woke up really early the next day. It felt like you had gone to bed early last night anyway, so maybe that was all that was keeping you from sleeping in. Yawning, you stretched and got your clothes for the day on. Not bothering to have any one of the servants to come along, you went out of your room and headed for the garden. You walked down the stone steps and onto the lawn, right before the huge maze of hedges and flowers.

"Miss?" a quiet and timid voice called from behind you. Turning, you saw a very pretty woman with silvery hair and skin like caramel. She had on a navy maid uniform and a white gauze and wrap around her left eye. You blinked at her for a second then smiled nicely.

"Hello. I'm afraid I haven't met you yet," you told her politely.

She bowed, not ever making eye contact with you, and apologized quickly. "My apologies Miss. You can call me Hanna if you wish. I was just going to tell you that breakfast is going to be done shortly. The Master is not awake yet, but I just wanted to inform you..."

You nodded at her. "Thank you. It's no problem, I was just going to go one a little walk to explore this beautiful garden. You and the others do a wonderful job here."

"Thank you Miss..." she trailed off again, still staring at the ground.

Your gazed soften more at her, then put on a cheery smile and stuck your hand out toward her in a friendly manner. "My name is (Name) (Last Name). Pleasure."

The woman lifted her head to look at the hand put in front of her and she smiled gently for a second. She shook the hand with a loose grip while you grabbed it like she was an old friend.

"You do not care about the classes very much do you?" she said in almost a whisper.

"Hmm? Me? Oh, not really. I think they're silly. Why should someone who was more fortunate than someone else treat that person poorly? There's no real sense in it after all~ I don't feel bad for people who are supposedly "lower class" than me, but I don't treat them any differently than I should treat someone else. I don't understand the prim and proper ideal for aristocrats either. I would much rather have a friendly greeting than one where I have to be mannerly and bow. What say you, Hanna?"

She looked at you for a second, her soft smile still there which made you happy she was slightly more relaxed. "I believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but I do say that you're philosophy would be much better on the moral scale."

Nodding thoughtfully, you turned toward the garden again. It was so whimsical... A sudden thought of all the strange goings on around the house struck you for a second and you turned to Hanna tentatively. "Hanna? May I ask you something?"

"Of course. But whether I may be able to answer it or not is debatable."

"Right. So, why is there this pressure lingering around?" you asked carefully.

"Pressure, Miss?"

You nodded, still watching the garden as the sun was coming over the tree line a bit more. "This feeling... It comes from all of you, except for Alois. It's almost like an eerie shadow is everywhere. The Phantomhive's butler had the same feel. Can you tell me what's here? Is there any reason you can think of that this may be happening?"

Hanna was silent for a moment, deciding on whether she would tell you or not. Glancing at you, she answered, "Well Miss... I would love to tell why you have this feeling, but I don't know if my Master would approve of you knowing."

"Hmm. I understand. Maybe I'll ask Alois again later... Thank you Hanna," you said nicely.

"I think, though, that you are a smart human. You may be able to figure it out."

"Thank you. Hanna, do you really feel these polite emotions toward people, whether it be me, Alois, or the rest of society? Or is all this fake?" you inquired.

She looked to you, quite surprised. Hanna let out a tiny laugh and looked to you sheepishly. "You are a clever human indeed. There are few I have feelings for, but then again it is almost rather impossible for someone of my type to have feelings about anything..."

You silently thought this over. The way she called you human made you think her as a different species and then she referred to someone of her type. It didn't sound like she was talking about her position as a maid. Slowly, you put the pieces of the puzzle together: the Phantomhive's "one hell of a butler," the eerie feeling, the duel, the way Hanna was talking to you, and most of all the way that two young teens that had gone through so much hardship end up with two mysterious servants serving them.

Smiling softly, you glanced back to Hanna for a second. "Hmm. I see now. It's quite amazing actually..."

Hanna turned to you, giving you full eye contact and remarked with a kind smile that you didn't expect could ever be possible for 'one of her own kind,' "I guess it is... But what do you think is the most amazing part? The part of our existence?"

You shook your head and explained, "No. That part could be perfectly believable to the open-minded person. I find it amazing that someone could fall so far as to need you. It's amazing, but sadly so."

"I think you are the first person to think that."


She nodded, her hands folded in front of her. "Yes, most would be shocked at the existence of demons. Or, if they were open minded like you, they would most likely be jealous of their power or despise the two boys for being desperate to call forth such evil creatures and denouncing there promises to paradise. I hardly think anyone would take a step back and realize that those two have been through so much and to be fully accepting. I may not be able to have strong liking for people, but I love Alois. I feel that I do. And you... I think that you are not like the other humans."

Giggling softly, you thanked Hanna. "Thank you then. I don't have a right to have such cruel and misjudged opinions when I haven't gone through the same things. It's unfair."

"How very tolerant of you," Hanna said. She suddenly looked back down at the ground and told you quickly, "Miss, breakfast is ready. And I'm sorry about interrupting your walk."

"Really Hanna... A demon shouldn't be so below a fragile thing like a human like this. You must really love Alois," you remarked, following her into the house.

She hummed in agreement and stopped in front of the dining hall, opening the door for you. You flashed her a smile as you went to go join Alois for breakfast.
I know!!! It's short!!! I'm terrible xD

Oh, and sorry about the whole paradise thing... But I was just remembering the first episode and Sebastian told Ciel, "the gates of paradise will not be open to you."
So that's why... Sorry!

Anyway, I had to have you have a nice talk with Hanna. I know that there is nothing to interest you here... possibly?
I hope you like it though! I couldn't add anything after it... It didn't seem right.

Whatever. Next part out~ [link]
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"Are you all right, Eric?"

"...yeah. I'm heading back to Alan. See you tomorrow."

Eric had long since grown used to the pitying looks and ignored them all. The fight wasn't worth it any more. Not when his world was slipping away like sand sinking grain by grain by grain... There was no hope, no cure, no mention even in folklore. He still pretended to stay positive though, for Alan's sake. They had sorrows enough.

Tutting, Eric rolled his shirt sleeve back down, numb and unsurprised to find he had made the walk from his office to the new living quarters on auto-pilot again. He rarely remembered taking his blazer off either but Eric could never get used to the daily injections no matter how out of it he was. Still, at least the evening jab served as a reminder to put on a smile before Alan saw him.


Alan's health was so fragile that nowadays they lived under controlled conditions. Both of them. That fight had been worth it. It had taken Eric dropping his usual laid back attitude to kick up a fuss and scream "of course he bloody knew" about the rarity of the situation before the powers that be took them in as a pair. He and Alan, together as they should be. Even when it meant living under observation. Still, they adapted, they changed, they found a way to carry on together as they always had.

But to see Alan treated as a test subject made him feel sick. Alan deserved better than this. He was pale to begin with but being cooped up all day was starting to turn him ghostly. Sure, Eric wasn't a fan of being jabbed but it was better than the alternative. While they were not exactly living in quarantine Alan's defences were now so low simply walking into the room in a cloud of tobacco smoke was enough to give his lover a coughing fit which led to Alan panicking then collapsing in agony when even the small exertion triggered the Thorns of Death. Eric's jabs and occasional blood tests were a precaution; he couldn't risk catching anything and then passing it on.

It was strange though, Alan the reaper reacting similar to how an ill human might. Eric had once let slip how similar the new developments were to previous cases he had reaped but it made Alan look at him like he was crazy so Eric didn't mention it again. Now he had thought about it he could see even drawing the comparison had been tactless in the extreme, but Eric's sleeping patterns were inconsistent these days and sometimes his concentration slipped.

Alan slept a lot. Eric could spend entire off-duty days barely even blinking while he watched his partner rest. Alan never nagged him about it now if he caught him sitting staring. They both knew.

Quitting his baccy and booze was child's play compared to watching his partner's slow decline. He couldn't even vent his frustrations out on the job because Eric's rota had been changed to desk duty. Only desk duty. He understood. It wouldn't do to be out on the field, or worse mid-battle, if Alan took a turn for the worse.... Oh gods, he really didn't want to think about that.

One day a reaper, some forgettable prat wearing the new style white suit, had stopped by Eric's office and began talking about Alan in the past tense until Eric shut him up with a smash of his fist, taking no pleasure in splattering the other reaper red.

He and Alan had been separated for a while after that little stunt. Alan had found out about the fight and worked himself into such a state thinking over the situation he took a Thorns attack which landed him in intensive care for days on end. Not being allowed to visit had almost killed Eric. The night they were reunited they both wept, struggling to keep things calm. The wracking sobs Eric was tempted to give in to would surely set Alan off and the last thing he wanted to do was trigger a relapse.

Alan's life had a limit.

When their crying was done it was the look of resignation in his partner's eyes after which haunted him far more than reproach would have done, time was trickling away and Eric was selfish to squander it. Guilt was the main reason he hadn't complained when they were moved rooms again, now with both of them being kept an eye on. Being watched more closely put another strain on their sick joke of a relationship, but they learned to whisper their darker conversations at night when only skeleton staff were on duty.

Eric was emphatically not the carey-sharey type of bloke but he had found he needed to talk to his partner, really talk, to keep grounded. Those days without Alan had been hell. Eric must have gone to work during them, he was an exemplary reaper after all, but all he could remember was white walls. Ironic that Alan was his anchor when nowadays the younger reaper was so light he may as well have been weightless. Alan, always his light.


Alan was resting on the bed and Eric was careful not to disturb his partner when he climbed in beside him. He needed his rest.


Eric didn't like this mattress. At home they had worn through more than a few and although a saggy mattress wasn't brilliant, rolling together sometimes led to pleasant unplanned happenings. The only dip he could feel in the mattress he lay on now was around Eric himself.

He teased Alan about being only skin and bone but for him to be so very light was worrying. Maybe it was a good thing Alan's body was hidden away by the provided pajamas. Boring brown and red pajamas with a pattern of old man paisley ...a pattern which didn't show up blood speckles too badly when his partner had a prolonged coughing fit. The only other option was floral and Alan had outlined in no uncertain terms what Eric would not be having the privilege of if he even joked about him looking pretty in girls' clothes.

Alan was though. Pretty as girl. Prettier. Even when he woke Eric one night with a scared confession to clumps of hair coming away while he combed. Bless Alan, fussing over his chestnut locks just like a girl. Thinning hair for a reaper was worrying, but Eric managed not to show his concern and simply paid more attention to Alan's hair than usual. Just in case. Eric subtly took note of its colour, its texture, how that long sweeping fringe framed Alan's delicate features perfectly. His lover's crowning glory was back to normal in a few days and Eric mentally breathed a sigh of relief before thinking no more of it. Sometimes Alan's medication did odd things.

They were ok for the moment though. Apart from the mattress. It smelt wrong. It barely registered his partner's scent at all even when Alan was right there next to him. Eric hated this mattress. Much better to forget all about it for a while and make the most of his boyfriend being awake and smiling gently.

Alan's touch was so light nowadays, this was like kissing a memory. They used to kiss properly. Why couldn't they kiss properly? Ok, so Alan was... ill but a real kiss couldn't do that much harm surely. Eric lifted his hand, intent on slipping it into his lover's silky hair to hold him close, but Alan moved out of range before he could touch him.

"Eric... I can't... I'm sorry, Eric. But I, ah, I don't mind when you... you know."

If Alan blushed any brighter he was going to burn pillow away and Eric didn't have any words, staring mutely at his "lover" before he closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side, his back now to the other reaper. It was noticeable Alan was not even letting his back touch Eric's.

Alan minded, of course he minded. Eric knew. There was once a time when they couldn't get enough of each other, to go solo felt like betrayal.

Dead silence in the room. Sometimes he hated that reapers didn't have to breathe.


The two of them were going on a trip today. Alan wanted to see the ericas so Eric was going to bust him out of here, he hadn't figured out how yet, but where they were going was a real beauty spot. Tall, sturdy trees and a pretty little weir further on down the lane. He would have to encourage Alan to lean on him if they went down that way though, it was slippery and all manner of things got smashed on the rocks. Eric had even imagined he had seen a deathscythe wedged blade side up there once. It was dangerous. As was dwelling too long on that line of thought.

Besides, Alan was the sentimental one out of the two of them, filling their flat, their real home, with useless knick-knacks although lately it had been Eric smuggling things into these borrowed rooms ready for the flit. A dinner knife here, a tester pot of jam there. Eric wasn't sure where Alan was stashing them as he could never find them again when looked for them.

But Alan was going to have scones. He loved scones. Sometimes, if they had been getting on really well, Alan would be cheeky about the cream but right now the poor boy was fading away. Alan was practically see-through with barely any meat on his bones to keep the heat in and Eric found it disgusting that the Dispatch's budget was so tight this bedroom had big puffy wall coverings instead of a proper fire. Still, it was warm in here, even feverish at times. He put up with it for Alan's sake; he didn't want to see his partner with ashen skin and pale lips again.

On days like today, when Eric found it too stuffy, he had taken to lazing around shirtless. He would dress properly before they stole away in the night but right now they were simply relaxing together, Alan ghosting his fingers over Eric's fringe while he rested. This was nice. Peaceful. Eric smiled without opening his eyes when Alan kissed his forehead and whispered that he would be right back, padding away at roughly the same time Eric became aware of the steps in the corridor.

With a sigh the tall reaper hauled himself off the bed and stood to greet the visitors. Alan would probably nag him about being improper but the stuffed suits who had burst into the room after only the most cursory of knocks had started it by being bloody rude.

"Eric Slingby. With regret, it is the decision of the board to euthanize-"

What?! NO! This could not be happening. They were so close, so damned close.... This trip was going to be the last one anyway, why couldn't they let Alan see something beautiful before he drifted away like snow. One last look at the stars. Oh gods, he didn't want to think about that. What were they saying? He had missed a few words.

"-unfit to carry out duties despite repeated-"

Thank gods Alan was in the next room, it would break his heart to hear that. It was the only reason Eric was keeping silent, for now. This was serious stuff though. Alan really should know what the charges were before they argued against them. Where was that bloody door? All the insulated walls looked the same but his clever boyfriend had the knack of finding the way into the other room. All right. The hard way. Eric began calling for his partner and planned, if he had to, to cut through the reapers between them and the door he could see. He and Alan had a date today.

"-and varied treatments, prolonged due to exceptional past services rendered. All rehabilitation attempts have failed-"

How many suits were there? Two, no, four. Six? Reap it, they were hard to focus on when his vision was blurring. He would figure out what was making his eyes water later, for now better to focus on the reapers closest to him and work from there. So. One reaper helping him to sit and another taking his arm. That was kind, Eric was feeling a bit shocky. He raised his voice still further. Where was his boyfriend? T'ch! Couldn't the evening injection have waited? The surprise made his voice crack. He could have sworn he had already had his jab today. Where the hell was Alan? Eric would stop shouting just as soon as his partner came back.

"-since the death of Alan Humphries, eighteen months previous."


Summary: Eric's world was slipping away like sand sinking grain by grain by grain...

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji created by Yana Toboso

Eric/Alan. Oneshot. Contains character death. Alternative Title: The Great Pretender

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        I was walking home from school on a cloudy, yet humid June day. I thought over the day’s events; nothing much had happened, aside from my P.E. teacher announcing that starting from tomorrow, we would all be learning how to ballroom dance, since senior prom was approaching, and that it was mandatory. Amidst the groans and the squeals, a boy sitting next to me with jet-black hair and a ton of piercings (about five piercings in each ear, nose piercings on the bridge of his nose, and a lip ring) chuckled. I was curious as to why, but decided to keep my curiosity to myself. I didn’t think he noticed that I had been staring at him, so I was mildly alarmed when he looked at me and said, “They’ll do anything to keep us working, won’t they?” I blinked, then nodded faintly and gave him a shy smile, then quickly turned away.
        Without warning, it started to pour, as if someone had taken a large bucket of water and violently thrown the contents onto the city. “Perhaps I should have brought that umbrella after all,” I thought to myself as I ran home as quickly as possible. Now, you could imagine how surprised I was to find the very same boy I was pondering over sitting on the stoop of my house, using the balcony as cover from the rain. There was a black lump next to him and he was clutching it tightly. As I came closer, I realized it was a case of some sort. I approached him with uncertainty and shook him. He looked up at me with his bright yellow eyes, which began to gleam with recognition. “You’re Ren Kuroi, from P.E. class, aren’t you?” I asked him. What a stupid question; of course it was him. I knew his name since he was one of the fastest and strongest in my class, even though he was a little on the scrawny side. We would often be grouped together, since I was pretty athletic as well. The martial arts classes I took on the weekends were the main reason I was fit.
Ren nodded at me slowly, “You’re Ame Mizune…” I nodded back at him, surprised he knew my name. I noticed he had a faint scar under his left eye and his skin was terribly pale, almost like paper. “You’re sick,” I stated, “Let me call an ambulance,” I reached into my pocket to retrieve my cell phone. “N-no!” He exclaimed, grabbing my arm, "There’s no need to call an ambulance…I’ll leave now,” he said as he began to get up. “But you’re ill! Come inside, I’ll let you dry up,” I said, helping him up and taking out my keys. He followed me, carrying his backpack and the black case in his left hand.
       I led him to my room and plugged in the heater near my bed. He sat near it, the warm air radiating onto him. I handed him a towel and began to towel myself dry as well. Reacing into my closet, I pulled out a pajama set and examined it, then looked at him. Even though it was mine, it wouldn’t fit him, since he was taller than me. I opened my older brother’s drawer and handed him a pajama set from there. I changed in the bathroom while he changed in my room. I came back and studied the pajamas; they seemed to fit him fine. I instructed him to crawl into my bed while I searched for a thermometer. I searched for a while in vain; I had no clue where I left it last time I used it. Finally, Ren got up and grabbed my hand. “Try this,” he said, holding up his bangs with one hand and holding my bangs up with the other hand. I was confused until he touched our foreheads together. “You’re warmer than you should be,” I stated, “Then you must have a fever,” I concluded, and promptly fetched some medication and a glass of water. He swallowed the pill and finished the whole glass in a few gulps. “I feel kind of cold,” He said softly as I took the glass from him. I looked at the heater. Even though it was on high, it would take some time for the room to warm up. “I can get another blanket,” I offered, turning, but as I did, he grabbed my hand again. “You’re pretty warm,” he said, his burning hand soothing the goose bumps on my arm. “Sleep with me,” he demanded. “Um…Excuse me?” I said, heat creeping up my cheeks. “Sleep with me,” he repeated, the expression on his face serious, “Or do you think it’s too gay?” He smirked. “W-well, it seems kind of…Fine. Only so you can get warm. No funny business, ok?” I said, eyeing him. He chuckled, “I won’t,” but once I crawled in, he wrapped his arms around me and stuck his hands into my shirt. I gasped, blushing. He sighed. “Oooh…So warm,” he whispered groggily, as he laid his head into my chest. I debated hugging him back, since I was that close to flipping out. When I heard his breathing steady to an even pace, I wrapped my arms around him as well and eventually my eyelids felt heavy and I snoozed off.
      I opened my eyes to find Ren looking down at me with his shiny yellow eyes. “You’re up,” He said as I yawned and propped my self up with my elbows. “How are you feeling?” I asked, rubbing the mucous out of my eyes. He smiled, “I’m feeling better…Much better than before. Thank you,” with that, he leaned forward and pressed his soft pink lips against mine. It took me a second to process what he was doing, and then I immediately pushed him away. “H-hey! What was that for?!” I nearly yelled, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “I was thanking you,” he said, his head cocked to one side, as if it was normal to kiss another boy on the lips to express gratitude. I blinked, then asked, “Hold on…You didn’t do anything else to me while I was sleeping, did you?” He looked at me and said, I hoped sincerely, “No, why?” I looked at him skeptically, and then looked out the window. It was still wet outside even though it was no longer raining. “The sun is about to set,” I thought to myself. As if reading my mind, Ren said, “I guess I should leave now,” and reluctantly climbed out of my bed. I felt his clothes, which were drying near the heater. “Your clothes are still a little damp,” I said, “why don’t you eat something meanwhile?” Even if he had kissed me, I thought it would be kind of cruel to send him off in damp clothes while it was still wet outside.
        As we sat at the kitchen table, eating the instant noodles I had prepared, I looked at Ren and asked, “So…Why did you decline going to the hospital?” He looked back at me with his neon eyes, then down at the noodles. He twisted his fork a few times in his bowl, then brought it up, a heap of noodles at the end of the fork, with a rush of hot steam rising from it. “Why do you want to know?” he said, studying the noodles and blowing at them, his cheek propped up by his hand. “I’m just…Curious,” I answered back casually, then slurped down a noodle. “If you want to know…” He said, his eyes moving back to me, “Finally…” I thought, “He’ll tell me,” yet I was wrong. “It’s a secret~!” He said, grinning at me. I did a face palm and looked up at him with a serious face. “Come on! Tell me!” I pleaded. “Woah, there…” He said, “No one’s ever been that curious about me. if you really wanted to know, it’s because I’m afraid of hospitals,” with that, he raised the forkful of noodles and slurped them all down. “Oh,” I said, regretting my stubbornness. “You’re very nosy, you know. We don’t even know each other that well,” he stated. “Ha! Says the one who kissed me and wanted to sleep with me!” I exclaimed. “Hey, you agreed to it,” he replied. “Well, I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” I frowned, heat crawling on my ears. “That’s how I thanked you,” he said. “Well, it’s not normal,” I replied. “That’s how I do it,” he said, smirking. Exhausted from the argument, I collected our empty bowls and began washing them. As I did, I looked back at him. He was laying on the floor, his hand propping up his head. With his other hand, he was playing with a feather, which probably escaped from one of the down pillows. “He’s so strange,” I thought to myself as I put away the last dish and wiped my hands on the dish cloth hanging on the wall near the sink. Suddenly, I felt something on my waist. Acting on behalf on my instincts, which I gained from martial arts, I spun around and quickly grabbed Ren’s hand and twisted it. He looked at me, a blank expression on his face. Then he smirked and untwisted his hand, spinning me and trapping my hand on the small of my back as he used his left hand to grab my free hand and pinned it against the wall, rendering me speechless and quite humiliated. “You wanna play?” He smirked, inching his face close to mine. My cheeks and ears were burning with anger and indignation. His grip on my hands loosened and I pulled free, studying my wrists. They were completely fine. He had immobilized me without any apparent force! “Go away, Ren. Get out!” I nearly yelled, to which he replied, “You’re going to leave me out there to get robbed and raped?” Even now he was joking around, when I was clearly angry! “Hmph. You seem to know how to take care of yourself,” I said icily, rubbing my wrists, “besides, who would want to rape another guy?” He looked at me with a serious expression and said, “There are gay people out there,” while crossing his arms. “Are you one of them?” I said tacitly. “Maybe,” he replied implicitly, looking at me in suggestive manner. Blushing deeper, I went upstairs to my room and retrieved Ren’s clothes, which were completely dry. Ren followed me up and picked up his backpack and case. “What’s in it?” I asked, my curiosity sparked once again. “It’s my violin,” he answered casually. “I didn’t know you played the violin,” I said. “There’re a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he said in a tacit manner, smiling gently. He looked at his dry clothes and said, “Oh, yeah,” then began to strip. “Hey! Not in front of me!” I exclaimed, turning around, my cheeks faintly warm. “What? We’re both guys,” he said, “besides, I’m wearing boxers,” “That’s exactly why I don’t want to see you,” I mumbled to myself. “I’m leaving now,” he said, walking past me to the balcony, lugging his violin case and swinging his backpack on. “From the balcony?!” I exclaimed. “Yes, why?” He said. He took another step, then paused. Putting down his violin case, he turned to me and said, “I’m sorry. For everything,” his eyes reflecting sorrow. It made me feel a little regretful for yelling at him and I said, “I-it’s ok.” The next thing I knew, I was in Ren’s arms. My heartbeat quickened slightly and my cheeks flushed. “I just like teasing you,” he confessed, “when you get all flustered and embarrassed, you look so cute,” again, my cheeks heated up. “I look…C-cute?” I thought to myself as Ren let go of me. “Thank you for putting up with me,” he said as he picked up his violin case. “Do you know your way back?” I asked. His lips formed a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I know my way,” with that, he put one foot on the railing and waved. “Goodbye,” he said, his figure illuminated by the setting sun. I managed to croak out a “See you…” Before he vanished.
Finally, the fan-fiction I've been working on since last year! XD
**WARNING YAOI** If you don't like yaoi, please kindly refrain from leaving harsh comments. Thank you.
Here are the rest of the chapters~
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 You watched as the teen passed by, a flurry of whispers surrounding him.

 "He used to live in France."

 "Why'd he leave?"

 "Heard he got a girl pregnant, came here for a better opportunity."

 "Yeah, an opportunity to get another girl pregnant."


 "He already got one pregnant."

 "He's slept around with every girl in school, I'm not surprised."

 "Bet he rapes drunk girls on the weekend too."

 He could hear it all. It was as if his entire presence made every girl on edge. It has only been a month since Francis Bonnefois transferred to your school but the rumors about him spread like wildfire.

 At lunch, you always saw him sitting alone. In the halls, you simply watched as he went along, smiling as if there wasn't a think wrong in this cruel world. He walked home and had things thrown at him from the seniors. How much could one person even take?

 One of the jocks stopped him in the halls, slamming him against the lockers. "I bet you think it's really funny fucking around with my girl, huh? She ain't no whore but all she wants to do now is sleep around. And it's all your fault."

 "'ow is zis my fault?"

 The jock slammed him against the lockers loudly, making everyone turn to face them. "I saw you flirting with her you little French shit! And look at her now! She's pregnant! It's all your fault!"

 "Zis is none of my concern!" Francis bit back but you knew that no one would believe him. "If you're girlfriend wasn't such a whore and trying to get me to sleep wis 'er - which I didn't do - she wouldn't be in zis position!"

 The jock gritted his teeth then quickly threw a punch in his face, causing him to collapse and a group of students to laugh. "You calling my girlfriend a whore!? If anything, you're the whore here!"

 With that, he left with the others, the Frenchman nursing a bleeding nose and a swelling eye with his sleeve. The bell rang and students began to move but you simply stayed, watching as he shakily tried to get himself up and go to class. He stood up, a weak smile on his face and winking towards you before walking away with a distraught look on his face.


 Lunchtime, probably the most terrifying place in this jungle of a school. You looked around, seeing Francis poking at his food. His eye had turned black around the edges from the punch earlier.

 Slowly, you approached him and placed your things on the chair beside his. He looked up surprised and only now did you notice the lunchroom had gone completely silent.

 "You're a sweet petite...but you should go sit somewhere else..." You saw the loneliness in his eyes before he turned away. "I don't want to see you being labeled a whore either..."

 Completely ignoring him, you sat down and smiled sweetly towards him. "You look so lonely...I couldn't let you be miserable on your own...let them label me a whore because I'm sitting with you at lunch..." You took his hand, rubbing it gently beneath the table. "No one deserves to be treated so poorly..."

 "Hey look! Francis got another little skank!" Turning around, you saw the jock from before laughing with the rest of the cafeteria. "Better watch out-"

 "Says the one who got his girlfriend pregnant!" you said loudly, making everyone quiet down. "You probably don't even know if it's your child because she gets around so much! Oh wait, that's right. She got the DNA test back which said it was some 20 year old's kid! Got a bit drunk that night I see!"

 Everyone sat silent in disbelief. "Who the hell told you that!?"

 "I've got resources!" He came over, nostrils blaring and eyes like daggers. "And you put all of this on poor Francis, the new kid in-"

 He swiftly went to punch you only to have Francis go in between you and him. "It's not nice to 'it a lady."

 He suddenly doubled over in pain as the teachers restrained the other boy. You fell to your knees, stroking Francis' hair and fed sweet little nothing's into his ear. "We'll get this whole mess sorted out. Just take it easy..."

 One of the teachers squeezed your shoulder. "Get him to the nurse to get him checked out."

 Nodding, you turned your attention back to Francis. "Can you get up...?" He shakily began to stand up with you helping him to do so. " don't have to be so reckless..."

 Both of you went to the nurse, you helping him walk to entire time while he remained haunched over and holding his gut. Once in the office, you let him lay down and curl up while the nurse checked his injuries.

 "This is the fifth time this month Francis..." She said softly, sympathy in her eyes. "What do you keep doing to yourself...? And when did you get that black eye!?"

 You sat to the side, simply watching as he avoided her questions. The nurse looked at you next. "Can you tell me what's been going on with him?"

 Francis looked at you, probably not wanting you to say a thing. "He's been getting beaten up and called a whore..." She gasped and looked towards Francis. "I was about to get punched and he stepped in the way..."

 "Francis! Why haven't you told anybody!?"

 Silence filled the room, he didn't want to say what's been going on. The nurse sighed and left, calling the office. Moving beside him, you sighed. "Sorry...I shouldn't have said anything."

 "Non," he groaned, holding his stomach. "You were only trying to 'elp...zis 'appens at all ze schools I go to..."

 You gently brushed his hair, feeling the silky-smoothness between your fingers. "But why...?"

 "I'm a flirt..." He stated simply, taking your hand carefully before smiling at you. "I can't 'elp myself...wis all zese beautiful girls...but zen everyone starts to 'ate me..."

 "Well if it makes you feel any better," you started, biting your lip,"I don't hate you."

 "Thank you..." He muttered, shutting his blue eyes. You lightly pecked the injured one, making a small smile appear on his face As he rested on the cot he lay on. "You're such a sweet little petite..."
In which I show you how much I care for this man.
He. Is. Not. A. Rapist.

I don't own you or Hetalia!
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Light, feathery touches curved down her body, rousing her from a warm and sleepy dreamland. Slender fingertips danced across tender skin with a nimble gracefulness, as if caressing a precious treasure. A smile curled upwards on pink lips, (e/c) eyes slowly fluttering open to meet the dusky light of dawn filtering through heavy curtains.

"Good morning, my lady," a voice murmured; tone sensuous yet professionally devoted. The male baritone was just like the trumpets of heaven as it floated into her eardrums and settled inside her mind, echoing off the corners of her skull.

She did not stir or speak. Instead, drowsy eyes fell shut once more, and a teasing laugh became caught in her throat as she struggled to remain silent.

The voice gave a tsk and those same delightful fingertips carefully peeled back the layer of sheets covering her slender body. Immediately, a breeze of cool air hit her exposed skin, and she gave a slight shiver as a pair of hands grasped her bare thighs, the smooth pads of two thumbs circling into her flesh. A pair of lips brushed against her ear, breath hot and salacious. "My, my…you certainly are a naughty mistress, are you not? Making my terribly distressing job even more grueling. And what is even more irksome…"

The hands around her thighs tightened their hold, and a small squeak escaped her lips unbidden. A blush was surely spreading across her cheeks, but she remained still and stubborn, refusing to let him win.

"You are wearing only a thin slip that does not do your lovely figure modesty…my lady (name)."

(Name)'s coy smile widened, and at last she allowed her eyes to open. Instantly, the (e/c) specks met with burgundy orbs glittering with a roguishness that could make any female's limbs turn to jelly. Her gaze scanned over his perfect features, taking in the curve of his devilish smile, the way his raven-hued hair fell across his ungodly handsome face, and how his body disappeared so enticingly in that black tailcoat he always wore.

"I am the master, Sebastian…and you are naught but my loyal butler. I believe I am entitled to sleep in whatever I wish…don't you?"

"I suppose you are correct, my lady," Sebastian murmured, leaning his head down so that their faces were a mere breadth's apart. His dexterous fingers continued their slow, methodical massage of her bare thighs, lips parted in a devious smirk as he devoured her flushing face with those reddish orbs of his. "However," he suddenly was hovering above her, both hands pinning her own to the lush mattress of the bed and his legs acting as a prisoner as they pressed against hers. His mouth was nearly touching her own, and if she hadn't forced herself to act as indifferent as possible, she would have melted right then and there. "As your butler, it is my duty to ensure you act as a proper lady, my dear (name). That includes waking you up at a reasonable time…which has already been an hour ago."

"Then you had best do your duty, lest I feel as if you are slacking off and decide to punish you for being a slovenly worker," (Name) whispered in a wanton manner, gazing up at the butler with a gaze that could burn a hole into the expensive Persian carpet. "Well, Sebastian? I'm waiting…~"

"I am afraid I am not quite sure as to what you are waiting for, mistress," the black-clad-butler answered in a pristine and humble manner, though his mouth was slowly leaning forward and the grip on her hands was becoming all the more rigid. "You will have to give me a clear, concise order, I do believe."

"Then I order you, Sebastian," her voice trembled ever-so-slightly as she resisted the urge to shake off his hands and yank his face down towards hers, "to give me my daily morning wake-up."

Sebastian chuckled, a deep and hedonistic sound as his eyes flashed a bright, bloody pink.

"Yes…my lady."

As was customary for each morning, (name)'s body instantly felt as if she had been plugged into a dozen electrical devices as his mouth came crashing down on hers. Her blood began to boil, like a fire was sluggishly flowing through her veins, and the instant his delicious and decadent lips sealed over her own, she let herself sink into the plush mattress—after all, he was her butler.

It was his duty to do all the work.

Sebastian's tongue was a welcome invasion as it pried apart her lips and slid into her mouth, coiling around her own tongue like a serpent. His hands slid down from her wrists all the way to her waist, where his skilled fingers slipped beneath the hem of her slip and massaged her hips. (Name) squirmed ever so slightly beneath the wicked touches, her eyes sliding shut as she lay limp beneath him, allowing him to do as he pleased.

A lifetime of service was well-worth the pleasures he brought when he became the master and she the pawn.

As long as Sebastian continued his corruption of her in such a ravishing manner, (name) would never think twice about his lack of soul.

Being in the thrall of a demon was not a matter that concerned her in the least.

"A-Ah…Sebastian…" (Name) groaned out when he nipped at her bottom lip, his tongue continuing its dominant wrestling against hers. She managed to shakily thread her fingers into his soft, silken hair as she desperately pressed closer against him, needing to feel his harsh warmth and touch or else she would die right then and there. A euphoric rapture spread throughout her skin—like it did nearly every morning—and the lava in her veins intensified to an even harsher temperature.

Sebastian expertly continued his lavish abuse of her mouth, kiss becoming all the more unrelenting and dizzying. The nimble fingers of one continued the circulating kneading against her hip while the other hand grasped a handful of (h/c) hair, yanking her even closer against him. Hunger was evident in the crude, animalistic waltz of his lips against hers; his tongue assaulting her own; his hands exploring every inch of her body like he would miss a crucial piece of a puzzle. Yet he was so cold, unresponsive—he never whispered her name in a tone dripping with poisonous honey, nor did he make any sign of ecstasy whenever she would attempt to caress him just as he caressed her.

Part of her did not even have a care in the world for that, however.

(Name) was truly addicted to Sebastian's diabolic, exquisite touch.

It was why she ordered him to send her into such bliss every morning without regret.

She just pretended to be his master, and he merely played the masquerade of loyal butler.

They both knew she was naught but his prey, ready to be snatched up by fiendish claws that would devour her soul.

Yet for now…(name) would be content with him devouring her body in kisses and caresses until the day Sebastian took her soul as his prize arrived.

When (name) felt as if she would burst into flames, Sebastian pulled away, licking his lips as he gazed into her hazy (e/c) eyes with his demonic bloody orbs. Her mouth was bruised and swollen, her chest heaving as it struggled to catch a breath, and her cheeks were as flush as a ripe peach. Sebastian gave her a pleasant smile, as if the events of the morning had not taken place at all, and gingerly slid off of his mistress's trembling figure, placing a finger against his lips.

"I shall leave you to your attire, my lady," the butler stated in a polished tone, bowing deeply before heading towards the door. "We have much to do today, so it is imperative you come down to your study immediately. I will have your morning tea ready for you at that time."

He began to make his way to the door, but (name)'s voice halted him in his tracks.


Slowing turning around, Sebastian met her eyes, a placid smile masking any sense of pleasure he had experienced only seconds before. It was the same as always, and perhaps the only thing that bothered (name)—she would never know if he truly enjoyed pleasuring her, or if he was just playing the part until he tasted the ambrosia that was her soul.

"Yes, my lady (name)?"

"…you forgot to say 'good morning' to me." Her voice was petulant, childish, and perhaps just a dash of desperation.

Sebastian's smile widened, and he gave another bow. "Ah, yes, I suppose I did. Well then…good morning, my dearest lady. I shall serve you just as steadfastly as every day. After all, I am one hell of a butler. If I could not give my mistress a proper 'good morning,' then…what kind of a butler would I be?"

With those words he was gone, just as was the routine for every day.

(Name) gazed up at the intricate designs of the ceiling paper of her bedroom, lying limp against the satin sheets as her breath slowly returned. Heart beating faster than a rabbit on the run from a hound, limbs like the delicious jelly Sebastian always put on her breakfast biscuit, she let out a small laugh.

"You certainly are one 'hell of a butler,' my dear Sebastian…and I do not give a single damn in the entire world as to why."

Slowly slipping out of the luxurious bed, (name) pressed two fingers against her swollen lips and closed her eyes, her nerves still being able to sense the glorious pressure of his mouth devouring her own. With a sigh and another quiet laugh, she did a pirouette in the middle of her room and clasped her hands over her heart.

"As long as you continuing to tell me 'good morning' in this absolutely heavenly manner you have perfected, my soul shall always belong to you…forever and ever."

(Name) did not care what the demonic creature she had made a contract with so long ago did to her.

As long as Sebastian persevered in satisfying her addiction for him, nothing else mattered.
I know I do not really like writing straight up fanservice nowadays when I do reader inserts, but I just felt like writing a short Sebastian drabble in this manner. I was going to make a sequel-ish thing to my other SebbyXReader ([link]) but then this just started to come to fruition beneath my fingers as I typed.

Sebastian is too easy to make into a seducer like this. It's just...I cannot make a dramatic, heartfelt reader insert with him as the center of attention, because honestly this man makes me melt. It isn't fair. Someone make him stop being so damn attractive and reduce me to a puddle of...Sebastian fangirlness.

I'm trying to be mature when it comes to fanfiction and anime, but he's making this so much harder. :|

Anyway. Short and steamy and plotless. Enjoy the useless crap I created in about half an hour. I hope I got the relationship between the reader and Sebastian somewhat believeable. As to how he and the reader contracted, I have no clue. You can make something up.
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It isn't the size of her breasts
Nor is it the way you dress
Love isn't your wealth
Or popularity
Love isn't the jerk
Love isn't sex

Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is when you'll be there for him
Love is when you'll stay by his side
Love is when you'll spend eternity with him
Love is when you'll die for him
Love is to love
A poem a came up with at a random moment.:iconimhappyplz:
Picture is from a free background website.
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Chapter Six
Faint Recognization

"There, there, baby
It's just text book stuff
It's in the ABC of growing up
Now, now, darlin'
Oh don't lose your head
'Cause none of us were angels
And you know I love you, yeah"
Lyrics from Imogen Heap's 'Speeding Cars'

Arthur sat peacefully at his desk reading. If it weren't for the discomfort in his knee it'd be any other day. He sighed and rubbed his cast longingly.
"Arthur!" came a voice from behind him. He turned his head and saw Alfred charging at him at full speed.
"A-Alfr-" he started. Alfred hugged him from behind him, squeezing him a bit too tight.
"OhmygoshArthuryourleg!" Alfred squeaked into Arthur's neck.
"I-It's all right-" Arthur was again interrupted.
"No it's not. I'm so sorry." Alfred gave Arthur a reassuring squeeze. Arthur gulped.
"W-Well I'll be fine, really." he told Alfred. It didn't work. Arthur released him and went to his own desk, to the left of Arthur's.
"Yeah, you'll be okay." Alfred said, surprising Arthur.
"Juuust as soon as I recognise your leg." he finished with a giggle. Arthur rolled his eyes.

Later that day, Arthur did his best to lift himself up from his desk. He required help from his crutches, and by the time he finished he remembered he needed his book and his backpack. He reached for his book and was unsuccessful. He let out a whimper in frustration.
Then his book was carefully lifted off his desk. Not by himself, of course. By Alfred. Arthur almost smiled.
"Thank you." he said sheepishly. Alfred giggled.
They both made their way to their cubbies, Arthur a little behind. Alfred stuffed Arthur's book into Arthur's backpack, putting it on his back. He put his own backpack around his front. Arthur blushed, what with being treated like a girl.
They carefully made it out the crowded school, Alfred reminding some kids to be cautious. Alfred helped Arthur make it down the stairs. Luckily no one fell.
"T-Thank you." Arthur said. Alfred looked at him.
"You don't need to say that." he replied. Arthur started walking home, and Alfred followed. A minute of silence.
"I hope it feels better soon," Alfred said. Arthur remained quiet.
"I love you," Alfred continued. Arthur's face felt hot. He couldn't think of a reply.
"'cus we're friends. And friends do that," Alfred went on. He seemed pretty happy talking to himself, he had a silly grin on his face. Arthur said nothing.
"You know, when we're older, we should get married." Alfred blabbered on.
Wait, get married? Arthur almost tripped.
"R-Really? What? B-But I'm a guy!" Arthur argued.
"So?" Alfred asked.
"Guys can't marry guys!" Arthur told him. Alfred looked hurt. He was looking away with his mouth slightly agape.
"Y-Yeah they can." Alfred claimed while twiddling his thumbs.
"How do you know anyway!?" Arthur asked in a huff. He knew he shouldn't be angry, Alfred was carrying his stuff. But what if he didn't want to get married? Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't.
Okay he didn't know.
"Well, I've got two dads." Alfred admitted quietly. Arthur watched his feet instead of Alfred's eyes.
"...Really?" he asked. Alfred coughed.
"Yeah," he answered.
"We're at your house." Arthur looked up and Alfred was right. About the house, that is.
"A-All right." Arthur replied. Alfred helped him up the stairs. Again by some miracle no one fell. Alfred opened the door and put Arthur's backpack on the floor. Arthur followed.
"Bye!" Alfred cheered and ran away.
"It's 'goodbye', git." Arthur mumbled once Alfred was gone. He sat down by his backpack. A minute of silence.
"I love you too." he whispered. If only he could admit it when he wasn't alone.
Aw my babies. They want to get married. Do you remember when you wanted to get married? Good times man, good times.

Chapters inspired by this prompt [link] I couldn't find where the original is, but I hear it's by :iconbritish-angel:

The amazing preview image by my awesome friend :iconpurpleflrs: c:

Alfred and Arthur owned by the creator of Hetalia.

Previous chapter: [link]

Next chapter: In progress
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                               The Diary Of Jane

                               As each day goes by
                               She writes something in her diary
                               But, every time she writes a new page
                               She burns the old pages
                               Why would she do that ?
                               Its because some of the things
                               She has wrote in her from the past
                               Are too painful for her to look back
                               And think about
                               And she can't handle all those horrible feelings
                               Of anger,hurt,misery and guilt
                               Burning her body and soul inside and out again
                               So in the end of time
                               No one will ever know what's inside
                               The diary of Jane's  
This is a poem i wrote inspired from the song The Diary Of Jane by Breaking Benjamin (who are one of the most amazing bands ever) anyways hope you like it : ) (Don't steal or copy my original poem)
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To The Beautiful You:

Here we are, sitting behind these screens of glass,

Reading lines of text, yet smiling, laughing and crying.

It's strange to think that I could have this much fun -

Considering that I've never met you before, but then again

Perhaps that's the reason why I don't have to pretend.

Some people might tell me, that what we have is just a fantasy,

I doubt I'll have the chance to actually see you in this life-time.

But even so, in the time that we've spent together - Well,

I feel as though I've connected with you, more than anyone else.

I feel as though I know you better, than those just a few feet away.

You might take this little confession as something silly,

Maybe you'll even forget about it as time passes,

But I for one could never forget about someone like you,

And so I'd like to dedicate this piece, to the beautiful you.

-Chen Yuan Wen, 17th December 2012
If you enjoyed this piece, please take a moment to fave and maybe comment and maybe even share it over facebook? Maybe? OuO

If you'd like to hear me do some live comedy, answer questions and read poems LIVE then check out the latest two episodes of my show:

Episode 5: [link]

Episode 6: [link]

Author's Comment:

Arrr maties,

This here poem is about 'online friends', sometimes ye meet that person online that you really wish you lived next to, smply because ye get along so well xD. I know I have a few people like that and it does suck when ye face the reality tha' ye might not ever meet them. That said, it actually makes me work harder than ever because I'd really like t' meet all of 'em someday and I hope this dream can come true.

At the same time, this piece also serves as the SPECIAL BIRTHDAY RELEASE FOR ALL THE DECEMBER BABIES (I'll designate one release per month as a birthday release and see how many months I can keep it up fer). Leave a comment if your birthday is this month and I'll put ye in the description. So far the following crew-members have birthdays this month:

:iconyukimaru-kun: - December 6th
:iconzstew2: - December 8th
:iconshad0wbeast: - December 14th

And the following poeple:

:iconangelgirlartist: - December 22nd
:iconyoshisghost: - December 29th

So please wish em all a happy birthday :3

Friends are always precious, regardless if ye meet 'em in yer day t' day life or online. As far as relationships go, even mine is maintained long distance. Ye can't help where yer born and the fact that yer ultra bff might be all th' way over in Narnia...but even so, if the friendship endures, maybe one day, ye can meet ^^

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

Other Poems by Me:
Practice Poem - Artistic FrustrationPractice Poem - Artistic Frustration:

Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG!
Everything is wrong.
'As then sun dew drips from her eyes'-
Do I really think that'll be good enough?

Hours spent on each piece -
Punctuated only by sound of ripping paper -
To lie crumpled upon my wooden floor,
Unable to be forgotten.

As the hours pass and the day wears on,
More and more worlds are crushed by my hands.
Realities sprawled upon a single piece of paper,
To die as quickly as they are formed.

A man's whose romance is torn in two,
A vampire about to meet his prey.
A werewolf standing against an army
And a boy facing the world alone.

These are the li
Practice Poem - Poor Little TimmyPractice Poem - Poor Little Timmy:

Down into well, poor Timmy fell,
Down he fell into the pits of hell.
Brought into hell by an eldritch spell,
Poor little Timmy who fell down the well.

Alone he cowered and shivered and shook,
He shook for hours, so long it took,
So long it took for him to feel well,
Well enough to explore this hell...

Through pathways littered with scenes most gory;
Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story,
A story of fear and suffering defined,
Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time...

Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest...

-Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012
I Can't Devour You, Not YetI Can't Devour You, Not Yet:

I long to taste the sweetness of your flesh,
To roll your meat between my tongue and teeth.
So many times have I come - so close -
To taking that first bite from your neck.

Yet, there is something about you,
A scent perhaps or a sickly sap.
It turns bitter upon my tongue,
Poisoning it; I am left unable to eat...

Much like the caterpillar, covered in spines,
Each bite would spew only bitter venom -
Numbing my senses and dulling the mind;
It would leave me naught but a gormless wreck!

Even so, despite me knowing of the repugnant taste,
I am drawn toward you, like a moth to the flame.
May my wings crum
It Came From The DarkIt Came From The Dark:

Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,

Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.

Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,

And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.

It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,

It cared not for the sensation of pain...

All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -

One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!

Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,

And in that moment, it learned of the truth.

For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -

was me...

Other Literature by Me:
The Good Critic's GuideThe Good Critic's Guide:
I. Introduction:

   I have noticed that many critics on DA tend to leave rather harsh and sometimes subjective critiques on the pages of the artists being critiqued. Their rationale for doing so is based on the concept that 'we shouldn't molly-coddle each other and instead "tell it like it is"'. However this type of critique reflects poorly on one who is critiquing as opposed to the one who is being critiqued and I will explain why throughout the course of this guide. In essence I hope to use this resource as a way of teaching potential critics how to properly focus their abilities and direct their critiques in a
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