Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...


"Groups tend to be more immoral than individuals."

-Reinhold Niebuhr-


After Grimmjow told Alastor to leave the room, he sauntered into the bathroom, feeling like a brand new vampire. His buildup of sexual tension had been relieved, but now he had a new issue to deal with. As he'd been coming off of his orgasm high, he'd noticed a foreign smell lingering in the air. As a matter of fact, it had done more than linger; more like it'd been permeating the air right along with the smell of sex. He'd been confused at first as he'd tried to identify it, but when he finally had, several sensations had overtaken him. One had been pure, unadulterated shock. Another had been a distinct shudder of repulsion. And the last had been amusement.

That fucking human of his had been aroused. Extremely so, at that.

Grimmjow sat down on the closed toilet and smirked as he ran a hand through his tangled hair. What was he going to do about this situation? When he'd glanced over his shoulder at the human, he'd noticed the look of fear and embarrassment on its face. That was just something that Grimmjow couldn't overlook. It wasn't in his nature. On the one hand, he wanted to tease the human for being aroused by that sexual display, but on the other hand, he wanted to rip it apart for even daring to feel that way about a vampire. Especially a pure-blood like himself. It was unacceptable.

So, what should he do?

He climbed to his feet and brushed his teeth before heading over to the standing shower and turning on the tap. The sound of the water hitting the granite floor was soothing to his mind, but it wasn't enough. As he stepped beneath the hot spray, he shut his eyes and thought about the look on the human's face. Those earthy brown eyes had been wide and stunned, as if the human couldn't believe it was aroused itself. Maybe that was true. There was a chance that it preferred the opposite sex. If that was the case, then that would explain the human's shock.

Grimmjow shook his head and decided to use the incident as fuel for his torture fire. He was going to make the human regret even looking his way while he'd been having intercourse. Grimmjow finally reached for his shower gel and began rubbing it over his body until he was covered with a thick, pale-blue lather. The color reminded him of his own hair, of course, but more-so of his deceased mother's. Her hair had woven a path down her delicate back and hadn't stopped until its wavy ends had reached her calves. Grimmjow remembered watching it swish behind her whenever she walked away. Images of her smiling face, her laughing, navy-blue eyes, her slightly bronzed skin that made her look like she'd been out in the sun for too long – they all made a lump form in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut against the thundering pain of his memories.

He missed his mother's gentle words and bubbly laughter, but most of all, he missed her smell. She'd always carried the sweet scent of honeysuckle, her favorite flower. She'd been a peaceful vampire, wishing for camaraderie between their race and the humans. The same had gone for his extraordinarily powerful father. The vampire had been tall and intimidating, with a deep voice to match. His hair had been blood-red, but his eyes had been the same shade as Grimmjow's: an endless ocean of blue. His smile had been charming and kind, his demeanor just as welcoming.

Grimmjow's parents had been leaders of a small group of vampires that had wanted to coexist with the humans. Being an Elder, Grimmjow's father, Samhiel Jaegerjaques, had been a prominent figure in their world. Grimmjow's mother, Imogen Jaegerjaques, had supported her husband fully, wishing for nothing but cooperation between the races. The Elder council had agreed and had left the task of approaching the humans in charge up to Samhiel. Grimmjow remembered that night like it was yesterday. His parents had convened with the King of England in the library of their old home, leaving Grimmjow with a nanny. Unfortunately, Grimmjow had been an unruly kid and had found it child's play getting away from the older vampire woman. He'd crept down to the library and pressed his ear to the door, shamelessly eavesdropping. He'd made it just in time to hear his mother's voice raise with concerned indignation.

"What do you mean you have no tolerance for our existence?! We offer you peace between our races, yet you spit it back in our faces!"

"Calm yourself, Imogen," Samhiel ordered, voice stern. A brief pause reigned before the Elder vampire was again speaking. "Your Highness, we only wish to coexist with your kind. There are ways to let us feed from humans without causing their deaths. This is what-"

"And how shall I propose this to my people?" the King interrupted. "What then? Do I simply explain that they will be required to let another being bite them, and thus ingest their blood? Are you mad?"

"Surely we can come to an agreement," Samhiel said quietly.

Grimmjow remained pressed to the heavy wooden door, but couldn't stop his legs from shaking. How dare that human talk to his parents that way? Didn't he know who they were? Who his father was?

"Be that as it may, Sir, I cannot allow this to come to light," the King went on.

"Then, what would you suggest?" Imogen snapped, making Grimmjow's blood run cold. He'd never heard his mother sound that way. Ever. Not even when she was upset. "Are you telling us that our race is condemned to starvation because you're being too stubborn-"


"No, Samhiel, this is madness! We'll all die if we leave it to this man!"

Before Grimmjow could register what was going on, the sound of glass shattering from within the library coincided with the sound of the front door to his home being viciously destroyed. He jumped so hard, he bit his tongue as he whirled in place. A line of humans armed with swords and shields marched into the front entrance and turned down the hall towards the library, their footsteps heavy and metallic. Grimmjow didn't know what to do, but luckily, the decision wasn't left to him. In the next instant, his mouth was covered and his body hugged to a warm torso as he was swept away with the speed only vampires could achieve. His heart was still racing as he and his captor came to a stop on the upper level of the mansion. Afraid for his parents, he bit the hand covering his mouth and scurried to the banister that overlooked the lower level. As soon as he peered between the wooden bars, he was privy to the sight of his parents being trundled from the library, their hands bound with lengths of silver chain.

"Moth-" he started to cry out, but was once again silenced.

This time, he managed to twist around and catch sight of his captor. "Starrk!"

The brunet Elder was a close friend of Grimmjow's parents, so his presence was more than welcome at the moment. Confusion still strong in his mind, Grimmjow tugged at the vampire's long, white sleeve.

"What's going on? Why are they taking my parents? What's going to happen?"

Starrk pressed his index finger to Grimmjow's lips, silencing him as he turned towards the commotion taking place below them. After a few moments of quietly observing the scene, Starrk faced Grimmjow again and sighed deeply.

"I'm afraid things aren't going the way your parents had hoped."

Grimmjow only somewhat understood what Starrk was talking about. He knew that his parents had been meeting with the human ruler of their country to discuss peace between their races, but he couldn't comprehend just why his parents were being forced from their home so suddenly.

"I don't understand," he whispered as he lowered his eyes to the hardwood floor. "Mother...she said after tonight, we would be able to live freely. We wouldn't have to worry about hiding even while the moon was high in the sky. And Father...he was so happy. Why are the humans being so mean to them?"

"Sometimes things happen that we don't and probably won't understand. It would be too complicated a matter for me to explain right now, Grimmjow. All I can do is keep you safe."

What Starrk had neglected to tell Grimmjow at the time was that his parents had fallen victim to the cruelty of human mobs. Grimmjow remembered breaking free from Starrk in order to race to the nearest window. Once there, he'd glued himself to the cold glass and watched the human mob with their swords and battleaxes. He'd watched helplessly as they'd tied his parents to a post and repeatedly attacked them with silver weapons until they'd succumbed to their deaths. As he'd been dragged from the window, kicking and screaming until his throat was raw and his voice hoarse, he'd inwardly vowed to never trust a human. He promised himself that he would never share the fate that had befallen his parents.

Grimmjow rinsed off and scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. The memories of his parents' deaths always made him lose his composure. Always made him thirst for vengeance and violence. He wouldn't be a happy vampire until humans were firmly under thumb, where they belonged. He despised having to treat them with any sort of consideration. It burned him up. Why should he, of all vampires, be forced to endure a donor? His history alone should have made him ineligible for ownership. But no. Left up to Starrk and the rest of those miserable Elders, Grimmjow had been sentenced to something akin to death by silver. As a matter of fact, it felt a lot worse. He wished that he could genuinely say that he understood their vampire politics, but that would be a blatant lie. He hated everything about the vampire Elder council that had done nothing but tuck tail and hide after his parents' deaths. They had chosen the coward's path, and as far as Grimmjow was concerned, they didn't deserve an ounce of his respect or obedience, for that matter.

He shut off the shower and stepped out, reaching blindly for a towel as wet tendrils of his hair brushed over his eyes and made him squeeze them shut. He took a moment to dry off and stare at his reflection in the mirror. How had a pure-blood like himself been reduced to such a pitiful existence? He should be free to roam the streets and maim and destroy any human unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Grimmjow left the bathroom, black towel wrapped around his waist and hair clinging to his still slightly dampened skin. As he made his way back to his bed, he noticed that the human in his room was feigning sleep. It had its back turned to him and its blanket pulled up over its head of bright orange hair. However, its breathing was uneven, and its heart rate was through the ceiling. Grimmjow smirked and licked his lips before baring his fangs. He was itching to cause a little mischief, but he would wait. Yes, he'd wait until a brilliant idea crossed his mind. An idea so brilliant, he and that god-forsaken human would be feeling the effects for at least a month. Possibly more.

He sat on the side of his bed after switching on the stereo. He wasn't really in the mood for his usual, so he grabbed the remote from his nightstand and allowed the play list to change. As he stood and let the towel hit the thickly carpeted floor, Buckcherry's "Crazy Bitch" poured into the room. It certainly wasn't Britney Spears or Icona Pop, but it fit his devilish mood. Not to mention, the sexually charged lyrics were sure to draw some kind of reaction from the human across the room. Sure enough, as the chorus rolled around, the human froze, its back stiffening under its heavy blanket. Grimmjow fought a cackle as he peeled his own comforter back and slipped beneath it. Oh, he was going to have so much fun making that human's life absolutely fucking miserable.


April 2012

Outskirts of Karakura

Karakura, Japan

"Who would've guessed that you were the adopted daughter of a pure-blooded vampire family?"

Crush glared at the slight, dark-haired woman, hatred gleaming in his narrowed, black eyes. However, the girl never flinched or balked at the intimidating stare.

"You don't scare me."

"I should. You know what we're capable of, and treason is a damned good reason to send your ass to Hell."

He had to stop this. If he didn't, Crush would get carried away, and the girl would end up as nothing but a bad memory. He stepped forward, drawing the girl's attention. She was brave, that was for sure. Instead of showing any signs of weakness, she displayed outright belligerence.

"I don't care what you do to me. Nothing can top what awaits me if I betray my brother," she said, head held high and chin tilted with defiance.

"That's what you think," Crush hissed.

He held up a hand and gave Crush a stern look that told the bald man precisely how serious he was. Once Crush quieted down, he turned back to the girl tied to a chair in the middle of their meeting room.

"Were you sent to spy on us? Or was this all your idea?"

"Does it matter?" the girl snapped, violet eyes glittering.

"Let me shut her trap for her," a female voice rang out from behind him.

He turned and smiled at the short blonde. "Not now, Kitty."

Kitty pouted and folded her arms over her chest as she resumed holding up the wall and sending murderous looks the other girl's way. He once more gave his attention to the small woman in front of him, but before he could speak, his partner stepped forward with a wide grin.

"She's right, Sage. It don't matter whether she was sent or decided to spy on us on her own. I say we lock her up and throw away the key."

"Berserk," he started.

"It might be the only option we have until we can figure out how to move forward with our plans," a quiet tenor added.

He craned a look over his shoulder in time to see Hawk step forward, maroon hair pulled back in a low ponytail that hung over his left shoulder. He had wine-colored eyes and his expression hardly ever deviated from its usual somber countenance.

"She's not cooperating," Hawk continued. "She won't tell us what we want to hear, even if we torture her. This is a waste of time."

He had to admit that Hawk made a valid point. The woman was being exceptionally difficult, and time was of the essence. If she had been sent to spy on their organization, then that meant that the vampires were aware of their existence. But if she had stumbled upon their organization on her own, then that was a different story. It at least afforded them the time they needed to regroup and form another plan since the old one might have already been leaked. It was a good thing they'd decided to use code names for one another, or else they'd be dead by now.

"Fine," he finally said, surrendering to the inevitable. "Take her down to the cells."

Berserk nodded, the small bells on the ends of his hair tinkling merrily, even though the situation was anything but. Hawk stepped forward and assisted Berserk with untying the girl and lifting her from her seat. As the two men began guiding her towards the door, she looked over her shoulder with a sinister grin that sent chills racing up and down his spine.

"My brother will kill you. He'll kill all of you, and then he'll come save me from your pathetic excuse of a prison."

Her words were clearly desperate underneath the hardened facade, but she never broke character. She remained stoic and unmoving until she disappeared from view. What a strange girl. It was as though she'd had no fear in her heart. He moved to a table on the far side of the room, only to be joined by Crush a moment later.

"You should've just let me kill her."

"And where would that have gotten us?"

"Like that matters. What does matter is the fact that we have to tolerate these shitheads because they're stronger than us. I hate heeding threats from a woman with the body of an adolescent girl. It's a strike against my pride, Sage."

He chuckled and put a hand on Crush's shoulder. "You have my sincerest apologies, Crush. But I still think that what we did was the right decision. We can't have her running back to her pure-blooded and Elder vampire brother. It would be like inviting disaster into your living room. At least with her here, we can monitor her movements."

Crush looked like he really didn't want to hear that, but after a few beats, his wide grin appeared.

"I guess that's why we call you Sage."

He nodded and returned Crush's grin. "I suppose. But why don't you check out the situation going on downstairs for me?"

Crush gave a deep, belly chuckle. "I know a diversion tactic when I see one. Why didn't you just say you wanted me to leave you alone?"

"That's not true, and you know it."

Crush didn't respond with words; he just grinned a bit and snorted a laugh as he made his way over to the door. Once he was gone, Sage went back to pondering their current predicament. How the hell was he going to fix this?


Ichigo wanted to die. He wanted to shrivel up into a small heap and turn to ash. Why was he being forced to endure the childish and annoying as fuck behavior from a creature that had to be many years older than himself? It didn't make sense. One would think with the way that Grimmjow hated humans, it would leave the night-crawler bitter and humorless. It would leave him nothing more than an empty shell, but still the idiot vampire managed to come up with devious plot after devious plot. It was bad enough in Ichigo's mind that he'd been affected by Grimmjow's earlier performance, but now he had to endure what was close to torture from the blue-haired vampire.

For instance, not even an hour ago, Grimmjow had paraded around the room without a single stitch of clothing on. Ichigo had thought the coast was clear once Grimmjow had emerged from the bathroom and climbed into his bed. Sure, the vampire had turned on his music loud enough to wake the dead and then some, but for once, it hadn't been the teeny bopper genre Grimmjow normally listened to. The lively rock music had almost put Ichigo in a good mood...until he'd paid attention to the lyrics.

"Hey, you're crazy bitch, but you fuck so good I'm on top of it. When I dream, I'm doing you all night. Scratches all down my back to keep me right on."

That asshole.

Ichigo grimaced when he remembered the look Grimmjow had given him when he'd obviously noticed that Ichigo's body had reacted to what had been going on in the room. Humiliating didn't even begin to do the job of describing what Ichigo had felt once Grimmjow had disappeared into the bathroom. He didn't understand why he couldn't have just experienced his disquieting lust without the vampire's knowledge. Of course, with his luck, that had been impossible. Of course, Grimmjow would smell whatever it was that gave it away.

Ichigo rolled onto his back now that Grimmjow was out of the bedroom. He didn't know where the blue-haired cretin had gone and, frankly, he didn't care. He was just glad to be alone with his thoughts for a while. He'd come to the conclusion that the reason he'd even been aroused by what he'd seen in the first place was because he hadn't had any physical contact with another human being in what felt like forever. He hadn't even masturbated in years, which for a healthy male in his prime, was highly unheard of. Ichigo wished there was something he could do about his problem, but nothing came to mind. He was stuck as a prisoner in a mansion full of vampires, and unless he got busy with a female vampire (which he sure as hell wasn't about to do), then he would remain sexually inactive – which completely sucked.

Maybe the next time he met up with Renji, he could ask the red head what he did when he was feeling sexually frustrated. Renji had been more of a playboy than Ichigo had ever been, so there was a chance that there was something that Ichigo was missing that Renji hadn't. It was worth a shot, at any rate. Besides, it was infinitely better than trying to speculate on the whys of the looks Renji would sometimes give Gin. Ichigo shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the disturbing images from his mind.

His thoughts went back to the way Grimmjow had walked around the room in the nude before finally dressing and leaving. Ichigo hadn't understood why the vampire had been doing such a thing at the time, but after remembering the evil smirk the asshole had been wearing, the reason had become all too clear. Grimmjow probably thought that because of Ichigo's slip-up earlier, it had to mean that Ichigo was attracted to him and would react to the slightest provocation. Ichigo shook his head in agitation as he tossed his blanket away and threw his legs over the side of the bed.

That idiot's got another thing coming if that's what he's thinking.

How arrogant could one being be? Obviously, Grimmjow's narcissism knew no bounds.

As Ichigo climbed to his feet, mind set on relieving his bladder, the door to the bedroom swung open. His foot was still raised in mid-step when his visitor entered the room. At first, every muscle in Ichigo's body seized up in shock as he registered a head full of ash-white hair and a huge grin. But upon second and third glances, he realized that his visitor wasn't Shiro returned from the dead. This guy, instead of strange black and gold eyes, his were a dull, washed-out gray. And instead of two rows of straight, gleaming-white teeth, this guy's were covered with metal braces. How strange. In fact, once Ichigo's heart slowed and he was able to take in more of the guy's appearance, he realized that the guy was more like a kid. He had to be a couple of years younger than Ichigo.

The kid moved a little towards the center of the room, but stopped and stared at Ichigo, his head tilted with puppy-like curiosity. His metallic grin spread as he slipped his hands into the dark pockets of his guard uniform. He rocked back on his heels and hummed a little as he continued to study Ichigo. Ichigo, on the other hand, was growing more and more agitated, and less and less intrigued. Of course, he was wondering why he had a guard that he'd never seen before in his room, but at the same time, the way the kid stared at him set him on edge.

"Soooo," he started as he folded his arms over his chest. "Are we gonna do this all night or what?"

The kid laughed, his eyes disappearing into jolly creases. "Now I see why Big Bro liked ya so much. Ya got spunk!"

Liked me so much? What's he – oh, shit...

"D-did you say, b-big bro?"

The kid nodded and took a few steps closer. The scent of freshly mowed grass and imminent rain drifted towards Ichigo, cementing the realization taking root in his mind.

"Shiro was your brother?" he breathed.

"Yeah," the kid sighed and placed a hand at the back of his neck. "If it wasn't fer the Boss gettin' to 'em first, I woulda killed all a'doze sons'a'bitches. Big Bro was my best friend."

Ichigo instantly felt a wave of intense remorse and guilt crash over him. Images of Shiro leading him from the prison and Blood Bank 214, of Keigo's death, and ultimately of Shiro's death, flooded his mind and had him gasping for air as he clutched his chest. He'd been too numb to properly mourn the loss of two of his friends (regardless of how scary and unpredictable Shiro had had a tendency to be, the Ghoul had still been Ichigo's friend), and the sudden onslaught of memories was enough to make his knees buckle beneath him. However, he grabbed a fistful of resolve and straightened his back as he met the kid's eyes.

"He was a good guy," Ichigo said quietly.

"Yer tellin' me? Big Bro an' me used ta do everythin' tagether. Then, he met you. He used ta talk about'cha all the time. Man," the kid chuckled. "I always had a feelin' Big Bro liked dudes."

"What's your name? And were you Shiro's real brother? Or just his...his Ghoul brother?"

The kid put a finger to his chin and lifted it as he seemed to consult the ceiling. After a few moments of humming and pressing his lips together, the kid returned his attention to Ichigo with a small smile.

"I'm Di Roy Rinker, and I guess you could say me an' Big Bro were a little bit of both."

Ichigo frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

Di Roy's smile spread. "It means that me an' Big Bro were both Ghoul brothers and real brothers, I-chi-go. We were orphans a long time ago and stayed in the same facility. Big Bro wouldn't let us be separated, you see? But one night, he came back...I dunno know...different. We left the orphanage after that. 'Ay, did he tell ya we got a sister?"

Ichigo just shook his head, allowing the youngster to continue with his story.

"Yeah, she's older'n both of us, but Big Bro was the one that kept us together and outta harm's way. When he told us what'd happened to 'im, an' why he was so different, we decided to follow suit. Boss is a great person, so making The Change wasn't so bad."

"Wait," Ichigo put in, hand held up and eyes shut. When he opened them, Di Roy was staring at him in confusion. "The Change? So you mean to tell me that you guys wanted to become Ghouls?!"

"Well, yeah. Like I said, Boss is an amazin' guy! He offered us help and protection, when all around us, people were trying to separate and hurt us. What would you a'done?"

Ichigo snapped his mouth closed and nodded. He would have done the exact same thing had he been in a similar predicament with his little sisters. He couldn't blame Shiro and his siblings for making the best out of a dire situation.

"I get it now. So, uh...h-how old are you? How old was Shiro?"

Di Roy grunted and scratched his jaw in thought. Was the answer that difficult?

"Well, when me and Nel made The Change, I was thirteen and Shiro was eighteen. But that was in 1904, and I ain't too good at math, either."

Ichigo's mouth fell open as he stared. You could have tipped him over with a feather, he was so surprised. 1904? 19 – that meant that Di Roy was over a hundred years old!

"Holy shit."

"Haha! You should see yer face!"

Without a doubt, Ichigo already knew it looked ridiculous. He knew that vampires and whatnot aged differently, but being faced with the proof of such was an entirely different story. And Di Roy wasn't even a vampire; he was a Ghoul. Imagine how long the vampires had been around, then. Ichigo swallowed a few times before licking his lips and getting back on track.

"So, um...why exactly are you here?"

"Ah, yeah! I almost fergot! I'm 'posed ta escort ya ta the ceremony chamber."

That didn't sound good. That didn't sound good at all.

"Ceremony chamber? What for?"

"Well, Ichigo, taday's yer lucky day! 'Er actually yer lucky night. Ya get ta witness a true-blue Blood Bond, in the flesh."

"A what?"

"A Blood Bond. S'when a vamp gets married. Normally, if it's wit' another vamp, then they exchange blood to strengthen their intimacy and bond, but if a vamp is marryin' a human, then the blood exchange turns the human inta one a'them."

Ichigo remained rooted to the carpet, heart galloping behind his ribs before his mind finally remembered that Di Roy had said he would be witnessing the event – not actually taking part in it. Thank goodness. There was no telling what Grimmjow had been up to, and with the vampire's recent, unpredictable behavior, anything was possible. Ichigo blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. So, who the hell was crazy enough to marry a fucking vampire?

"Do, you know who's getting married?" he asked.

Di Roy nodded, face lighting up with glee. "Sure, I do. In this case, it's a little more complicated since a vamp is marryin' a Ghoul, but it should still be interestin'."

"Huh? I thought you said-"

"Yeah, a vamp marryin' a Ghoul ain't really heard of that often, but since my sis belongs to one a'the oldest Elders, she's gettin' a special blessin'."

"Your sister?"

"Yup. Big Sis is marryin' Elder Aizen. He's a little scary, but Big Sis loves 'im, so I guess that's all that matters, eh?"

Ichigo had no idea who the people Di Roy mentioned were, but figured he could relax because of it. As long as he wasn't involved in the ceremony, he was fine. Besides, this had to be a big event, so he could observe and take notes.

"So, let's go, Ichigo! We got a huge night ahead of us!"

Feel free to skip this part!

I'm going to take this time to mention something that's been bothering me lately. I haven't been around as much as I used to and yet, I still get slammed for shit I didn't even fucking do. Dude, if you're feeling some type of way about me, don't take the coward's route and leave anonymous flaming. My inbox is open. Drop me a line or two, and we can discuss it. ;) Oh, and for the record, I never told anyone to delete their story, and I don't give a fuck about writers using similar plots. No idea is fully original. What I care about, and what seems to happen an awful lot, is when the supporting scenes I write to make my stories a little different get taken. That's where I get angry because who wants to keep reading the same fucking story over and over? You can say that it's OK to take a story and change it here and there to make it your own, but when you don't even give credit where it's due, it makes it copying. Sorry to burst that bubble, but it is what it is. I'm sick of being made out as the bad guy for defending my work. A lot of people bend the rules when it's favorable for them, but I'm not one of those people. I'm sorry you can't handle that. I'm sorry if I may come off as a bitch, but I'm sick and tired of people talking shit about me when I know I'm right. That's like you writing a story, and like 80% of your scenes being borrowed for someone else's story with a similar plot. Dude, not even movies have exact same scenes as the next one unless it's done purposely. Give me a break, please! I don't "bitch and complain" about everything; I just tell it like it is. I say what everyone is afraid to say, and for some reason that makes me public enemy number one. I get accused of thinking I'm God, of being a whole bunch of other disrespectful shit, but I have never not once been disrespectful to anyone who wasn't disrespectful to me first. Ask around! It's true! But I'm DONE with this argument. It's old, and it's fucking annoying. My hope is that you guys realize that I'm not some fucking story Nazi who goes around accusing everyone of taking my stuff for no good reason. In fact, I don't even look for the shit. READERS alert me to the fact that someone is "borrowing" from me, and that's when I check into it. You can go ahead and mull that one over while you're standing on your high horses. Just like you, I work hard on my stories. It doesn't feel good having any of it taken from me without permission. I didn't even leave author's notes for months because I was tired of the abuse, but now I'm back and I will continue to defend myself. It can't be that hard to come up with a story that doesn't look exactly like another one. Not unless it's done purposely, and even then, credit should be given where it's due. Fuck, I do it! If I borrow a plot from a movie or a book, I give credit to it. I don't just take it and say, "hey, look what I came up with in a dream, or in the middle of the night." No. And I damn sure try my best to make the shit different. Like I said, I don't care if you use similar plot ideas. I really don't. Just don't use my scenes for that similar plot idea because then that's copying no matter how you try to twist the truth. I'm fully prepared for the fallout this will cause, but I felt like I had to let my side be heard since a bunch of people have been internet gangsters lately, and I don't appreciate it.

To those who have continuously supported and encouraged me, thank you so much! You have no idea how much I love and appreciate you for it! And thank you for the many reviews I've received! I'm eternally grateful!

Thanks for your time.