#Power Scholars Academy

[probablyasocialecologist]

“I loathe that word ‘pristine.’ There have been no pristine systems on this planet for thousands of years,” says Kawika Winter, an Indigenous biocultural ecologist at the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa. “Humans and nature can co-exist, and both can thrive.” For example, in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS) in April, a team of researchers from over a dozen institutions reported that humans have been reshaping at least three-quarters of the planet’s land for as long as 12,000 years. In fact, they found, many landscapes with high biodiversity considered to be “wild” today are more strongly linked to past human land use than to contemporary practices that emphasize leaving land untouched. This insight contradicts the idea that humans can only have a neutral or negative effect on the landscape. Anthropologists and other scholars have critiqued the idea of pristine wilderness for over half a century. Today new findings are driving a second wave of research into how humans have shaped the planet, propelled by increasingly powerful scientific techniques, as well as the compounding crises of climate change and biodiversity loss. The conclusions have added to ongoing debates in the conservation world—though not without controversy. In particular, many discussions hinge on whether Indigenous and preindustrial approaches to the natural world could contribute to a more sustainable future, if applied more widely.

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 011 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. getting drunk. physical violence.

notes. @sunasbabie bullied me into updating so here it is. alsoo the start of suna’s downfall arc???

wc. 11.8k

series masterlist 

[ ELEVEN ] I care, I care, I care like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time, watchin’, hidden in plain sight. ooh I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life. I see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear

Rintaro had known from a very young age he was different.

He had brothers, quite a number of them, and yet even when everyone had their own maids and butlers, Rintaro stuck out like a sore thumb. For one, they were strictly not allowed to call him by his name. He was never Rintaro – always His Highness or Crown Prince. He was never allowed to play with his brothers, either, despite being close in age to most of them. Instead, he stood watching from the windows of his study as they frolicked and lived like normal boys. They attended school, played sports, made friends – the normal way of living, even for Princes. But Rintaro wasn’t like that. Her Majesty had different expectations for him. That because he was the only son of the King and Queen, he simply had to be better than the rest.

No, he had to be the best, and he believed it at some point.

Until Her Majesty announced it was about time he learned some ‘proper socializing’ into society. She’d enrolled him in the same private academy as his brothers, got chauffeured to and fro, and was expected to give nothing but the best of grades when he returned. It sounded simple enough – study, excel, and prepare himself for the throne.

No one had warned him that high school came with other unexpected surprises, one that came in the form of a brown eyed beauty he’d been eyeing since his first day.

Her name was Iris – top of the class, all long, lean legs, and a mop of long, wavy hair. It was hard not to notice her. She was popular, in the way that everyone asked her for her notes, and you could trust her to whisper the correct answer when you’d been called to recite in the middle of the class. An academic overachiever, a teacher’s pet – they all had some sort of name for her. A stickler for the rules, too, always appropriately dressed and speaking in polite, clipped tones. She spoke in a manner elders would love, and Rintaro found that fact rather endearing. He wasn’t a great reader of people, but he could tell one thing: Iris was not her true self.

Her smile might be respectful, but something about the way her lips twitched when being told what to do gave him an idea that perhaps she wasn’t as obedient as she made herself to be. And she was always helping others, putting others before herself, but she never did it looking satisfied.

Rather, it seemed that her actions always stemmed from one thing: obligation.

Iris was not who she is because it was her, down to her nature, but because she felt she had to be. It was such a quality Rintaro resonated with. To deny oneself, and to put duty and order first. They both walked with stiffness in their shoulders, with the weight of the world on their heads. They were simply too young to be caring about such. And Rintaro found it unfair – how they’d been deprived of their right to normalcy and had a future they never even wanted shoved down their throats. He couldn’t speak entirely for her, of course.

They had entirely different backgrounds – with Iris as a foreign scholar, who had to work twice as hard to prove she was worthy as any local, and then there was Rintaro, who couldn’t really tell which parts of him were himself, or fabricated by the throne.

They were both young people who lied to themselves. And strangely enough, he found comfort in that. He found comfort in her. He felt less alone when she was around, and she’d definitely made her presence known. Whether it be slipping notes into his desk and walking away without a word, or sharing her milkbread with him during lunch – which he found hilarious, yet cute – or when she simply made the effort to get to know him.

Not the Crown Prince, but Rintaro.

She began to ask things about himself that he’d never thought of before. Like what his favorite food was – he blanked out, because he wasn’t supposed to be picky with food, so he just ate anything. Or what his favorite game was, and sometimes, she’d even asked him to teach her, even if bringing cell phones in class were prohibited.

She made him feel like a real person. She didn’t treat him specially; she didn’t swoon or fall to her feet when he entered a room. She spoke to him normally, treated him like a friend when no one would dare call him as such.

To her, he was just Rintaro. He could just be. And before he’d realized it, he began to look for her – in the hallways, watching her talk to her friends, or being curious on what snacks she brought so he could buy some for her next time, or intentionally trying to get partnered with her on any project.

But he hadn’t fallen for her.

Not until that day they’d rain poured over them unexpectedly, and they retreated under the nearest tree. Class had long been dismissed, and pretty much everyone had left – save for the two of them due to a late tutoring session. Rintaro struggled with English, but Iris was great at everything. And it was also a good excuse to spend more time together.

“You know, you’re different from what I expected,” Iris spoke, tilting her head up to catch some raindrops falling from the leaves with the tip of her finger. “When they said the Crown Prince was going to attend class, I figured you would be more… uptight. Strict. Or, you know, perhaps more arrogant than your brother.”

Rintaro fought the urge what she thought of him now. He’d become curious about it lately, unhealthily so. He wanted her to like him, to think positively of him – to be more than just ‘handsome’ or ‘charming’ or ‘regal.’ Because he most definitely wasn’t regal around her. He could be more himself, which is why he slouched, learned to smoke, longed for a tattoo, and even learned how to curse. Because he wasn’t Crown Prince Rintaro. He was just a normal high school student, Rin. Rin who stood under a tree while rain poured heavily against the pavement, next to a pretty girl who wore strawberry flavored chapstick and introduced him to a world he never imagined he could be part of.

If she had said he was regal, and well-mannered, he would’ve taken offense. But he didn’t ask, turning his gaze away from the way Iris leaned back against the damp tree and pulled out a cigarette. Even the way she smoked had him fascinated because it meant as a sign of trust to him.

The good, perfect student Iris was no longer perfect around him. She trusted him enough to let her guard down, and reveal her flaws. She had no need to impress him. In return, it made him want to impress her by mimicking her habits – even if he would’ve never dared doing them before.

“I have a lot of arrogant brothers. Which one are you talking about?”

“The ridiculously tall and talkative brunette in our year.”

“Tooru,” he said, gladly accepting when she offered him a stick. He didn’t light it though, because he was on his way home and didn’t want to reek of smoke. Well, if he was to be completely honest, he hated smoking. He didn’t like the way it burned his throat and made it itchy. But Iris smoked often, and she revealed more about herself each time she did, so he joined her. Everything he did was for her.

“Iris, why do you speak so casually to me?”

She shrugged and puffed out a smoky breath. “You just looked lonely. And everyone treats you like you’re fragile – always stumbling over their words or being excessively polite. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable, so… But if you truly mind, I can stick to the formalities. I just thought you might want someone to treat you like a normal person.”

“No, I-I don’t mind,” he reassured, “I like that you speak to me normally.”

“So, friends?”

He chuckled at that, and he didn’t stop her when she took out her lighter and lit her cigarette for him. He supposed one couldn’t hurt. “We have been friends for months now.”

“I know,” she beamed, “I’m just waiting to be invited over to your fancy Palace for tea parties.”

“I don’t even like tea.”

“Shame. I would’ve killed for some expensive drinks.”

And so their unexpected friendship began until they were practically attached to the hip. Wherever Iris went, Rintaro followed. She’d started calling him ‘Rin’ too, and Rin had to hide how much he liked it. He blushed madly each time he did, and it didn’t help that Iris had become more physically comfortable with him – locking arms together when they walked in the hallway, absentmindedly brushing his bangs back during their tutoring sessions, or laying on his lap when she had a book to read as they hid in the corner of the library. Each touch of her skin against his sent heat to his groin. It embarrassed him, because he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about his ‘friend’ like that, but could you blame him? He was a growing teenager. He wasn’t immune to a pretty girl’s subtle touches.

“You know, you can make it less obvious that you’re staring at the scholar.”

Glancing away from Iris playing volleyball with her friends, Rintaro glared at his brother. He shared classes with Tooru, but otherwise barely spoke to him. Tooru was too loud and confident; a little flashy for his liking. He also basked in the attention he received from the girls, shamelessly flirting with them and getting their hopes up.

Rintaro thought he was an ass.

“Shut up.”

“Well, well, can you believe that? I believe the Crown Prince just uttered a vulgar phrase that would surely displease Her Majesty. I wonder if she’ll ground you tonight for being such a naughty Prince.”

Rintaro glared at him, gesturing to Tooru’s childhood friend lurking in the corner. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Like reject that poor girl showering you with gifts again?”

Tooru sighed, and upon seeing Maiko’s face light up when he looked her way, he bid his farewell. “Don’t remind me.”

His brother suddenly disappeared. He almost felt bad for Maiko, the heiress from the Rai Clan. She grew up having multiple play dates with Tooru, and they’d been close all the way to middle school when she grew a crush on him – a crush nearly bordering on obsession. When she invited him over to play with her new puppy around the ninth grade, Tooru was met with a ten feet portrait of him in her bedroom. Tooru hadn’t spoken to her ever since. But the poor girl was too innocent to understand his rejections, and she kept following him like a lost puppy.

Not that Rintaro was concerned. Neither was his brother concerned with him, anyway, so they stayed out of each other’s way until they graduated.

Sometimes, Rintaro still wished he never graduated at all. Maybe Iris wouldn’t have disappeared, then. She didn’t have a phone, so they couldn’t keep in contact, but even if she did have a phone, Rintaro wouldn’t be allowed to be casually conversing with ‘commoners.’ Her Majesty would hate it. And he wasn’t certain where she went. Perhaps university, but last he’d heard, Iris was occupied with dealing with some family matters, and Rintaro stopped prying. Her family was one of the things Iris never spoke of. But from what little he knew, she only had a loving mother who did her very best to raise her alone.

Rintaro would’ve never expected that when they saw each other again, they would run into one another at the Palace, of all places. “Iris?” he couldn’t believe his eyes. Had he missed her so much he was beginning to hallucinate? “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

Iris looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He almost couldn’t recognize her. It’d been years since he last saw her and spoke with her, but she seemed entirely different now. She’d gone back to speaking in those forced, clipped tones, her posture perfect, and her smile a little stiff for it to be genuine. She’d been lying again to herself and to the world, but he couldn’t understand why. Rintaro still found it hard to believe that she stood in front of him, draped in lace dresses with the Royal emblem pinned to her right breast in the way royals did.

In the way he did.

“Your Highness,” she said, her tone sweet and airy, as she curtsied. Rintaro felt his stomach twist. This wasn’t the Iris he’d liked for so long. Iris didn’t speak sweetly, or said her words like she treaded on air and had that breathy, ridiculously feminine laugh. Iris’ voice was raspy from constant smoking, and when she spoke, it was always carefree. She never called him by his official title before, so why was she doing it now?

Rintaro couldn’t shake the feeling he was being betrayed.

“You mustn’t have been informed. I’m…”

“Do you serve the crown now?”

“No, no! Not quite in that way,” she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It was then he noticed the ring sitting on her finger. “I was married to your brother last night, my Prince.”

“Which brother?”

“Prince Kiyoomi.”

He felt like his world had been crushed.

He was never a hopeless romantic, but he was learning. She’d taught him what girls liked. And he… he thought she liked him, too. She must have, right? If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be staring at his lips when he talked. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t hold his hand and rub circles along his knuckles when they were alone together in the library. Or had he just fooled himself all this time? Was he really nothing but a friend to her?

Rintaro felt foolish all over again.

He felt like he was seven years old once more, holding back his tears while Her Majesty lashed at the backs of his thighs because he wasn’t able to memorize a clause from the Royal Acts and Commands. He heard the word ‘stupid, idiotic, slow,’ and ‘foolish’ resonating at the study room again, while his tutor shook his head in disappointment. Taking a step back, Rintaro released a shuddering breath. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Surely, she wouldn’t befriend him just to make a fool out of him, but if she did… she would pay. He was the Crown Prince. He would become King. He would punish her, humiliate her and put her in her place if she treated him cruelly – but nothing could have prepared him for Iris stepping forwards, eyes drooping with sultriness as her palms flattened against his chest.

Stepping on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

“But I wish it had been you.”

When she kissed him for the first time, Rintaro knew one thing for certain – she had ruined him for anyone else.

Rintaro isn’t a man quick to anger, but he was getting there.

To leave him for a trip with another man was one thing, but to completely leave him on radio silence was another. A whole week you’ve been gone and not once had you texted. No calls, no voicemails, not even an e-mail. He felt like he had no wife, and quite frankly, your determination to pretend he didn’t exist was getting on his nerves. What had he done wrong, anyway? Hadn’t he been sweet to you before you left? He wasn’t going to deny he made mistakes, but he was putting effort into making it all better. He hadn’t spoken to Iris when you were around. He ignored her, and avoided her even when you weren’t in the same room. And he fucking hated it – because why did you make him feel like he was a cheater when he loved her first?

And now, you were messing with his head. He was certain you were.

Apart from some photographs the paparazzi took of you shopping with Kanami, or sharing lunch with her or having coffee dates, he hadn’t seen you with Kiyoomi. He hadn’t the smallest clue what you were doing. Were you sleeping well? Better without him, maybe? Did you miss him, too, or were you just glad to finally be away from him?

He was going insane with every passing second you didn’t speak to him.

“You’ve been unusually quiet.”

Iris’ voice flittering through the loud noise of the music snapped him back to the present. Right. He was at a party attended by celebrities and models, with liquor in red cups and suspicious leaves and powder being passed to one another – the type of parties a Crown Prince shouldn’t be seen at. But the twins had insisted, claiming he should enjoy himself and ‘do whatever the fuck he wants’ since he didn’t have a wife around to criticize him. He thought it was stupid. He didn’t want to do anything to upset you, but Iris wanted to come along out of boredom – Kiyoomi was away fulfilling their duties for them as mediator between two countries, so she had nothing better to do. Besides, Rintaro figured Iris had been itching for these environments. She’d played the docile and agreeable Princess role for several years now. She must be tired of it, and as soon as she saw the opportunity to let loose and be her true self, she wouldn’t dare let it pass.

And maybe his brothers were right. There was nothing wrong with just taking some time for himself. If you could do it, why couldn’t he?

However, he couldn’t convince himself he enjoyed this party he was in. People were making out at dark corners of the hall, and he was pretty sure there were illegal activities happening tonight. Iris didn’t bat an eye on it. The twins, too, seemed to be enjoying themselves as they flirted with a model he’d seen before, but couldn’t care enough to remember the name of.

“Sorry,” Rintaro said, “I just have a lot on my mind these days.”

“Is it her? You can’t stop looking at your phone.”

Grimacing, he offered her an apologetic smile. Iris didn’t look jealous, but then again, it was hard to tell under the dim lights, and not when she was hugging her fifth cup of whatever foul-smelling liquor she seemed to indulge in. But neither did he want to offend her by lying, so he slid his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and feigned disinterest. “She hasn’t texted or called since she left. I have no idea how she’s doing at all,” he glanced at her, “Has Kiyoomi texted you?”

“As if that would happen,” she chugged her drink and gestured to the doors. “Let’s go. I need some fresh air.”

They exited and walked all the way to the balcony. On their way there, Iris hugged his bicep and leant against him, causing the passing by hotel staff to eye them warily. But Iris couldn’t care less, and Rintaro leveled the staff with a warning glare. They should know better than to say anything. Tonight, the world was theirs. Iris was in his arms, as free as they could be, as free as he always hoped, and he swore he wasn’t going to think about you.

With the fresh air kissing his exposed skin, Rintaro immediately felt better. He wasn’t surrounded by the stench of alcohol anymore. He could breathe better here. Leaning against the railings, he and Iris overlooked the Kingdom of Inarizaki laying beneath their feet.

At one point in time, he promised to give all of this to the woman beside him. They’d talked about having children and raising them in the Palace. How they would make great monarchs, and they could finally be powerful while still being free. With them on top of the world, no one could tell them what to do. They could simply be themselves. But just a hundred times better, because Iris would be beside him and sharing the burden of the Crown.

At least, until Rintaro realized none of that felt right.

You were his wife. He didn’t want to share this Kingdom with anyone else but you, although there was a more worrisome voice whispering at the back of his head – Rintaro didn’t want to share you with this world. He wanted to hide you and keep you for himself. He didn’t want you anywhere Kiyoomi, or Tooru. You were his. He was yours. He’s your husband, and you his wife.

You should be the one here with him, and he should be there with you.

Did you feel the same way, too?

Iris lit up a cigarette. Before he could think better of it, he snatched one from her and she lit it up for him, just like she did when they were younger. Her brows rose at his sudden eagerness, “You haven’t smoked since you met her.”

“I didn’t want her to think I smelled.”

“What’s the change?” she teased, “No longer worried she’ll think you reek because you’re married?”

“I just need the distraction.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I’m just worried.” He gritted his teeth, not liking how all of this just felt… wrong. Iris smelled too much of the old perfume she wore when they were teenagers, and it made him nostalgic in the worst kind of possible. Like recalling a childhood memory you thought was great at the time, but growing up completely changes your perspective on it. Rintaro hated it – how he tasted bitterness at something he once craved so much. Worse, he couldn’t keep lying to himself. He didn’t know where his heart was at yet, but something was different.

He desperately wanted to see you.

“I feel like… I feel like she’s going to leave me, Iris. Something’s changed.”

“You’ve changed, Rin,” she snapped, throwing her cigarette on the ground and stomping at it. Rintaro frowned; he’d seen her do it before when they were kids, but seeing her still do it now confirmed his theory: Iris still had her mean temper. She could never hide it even under silk dresses and velvet gloves. “You haven’t been the same since the honeymoon. I feel like we left behind the old you, and the one that came back is someone I barely know.”

Rintaro couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. She was right. He’d changed. He didn’t know why, or how, but maybe he was falling in love. Could he be? No… maybe he just missed you. Maybe he just hated the way you seemed so resigned and distant when you left.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could tell her, because Rintaro was too lost.

“Are you changing your mind about me?”

“No, no. Gods, I would never. I just – I’m confused, okay? She’s mad at me, and she just left. What if she never speaks to me again?”

“She will. She’s your wife.”

“You don’t even speak to your husband,” Rintaro argued, and Iris rolled her eyes. Once, he would’ve found her irritation appealing. But directed at him? He just felt like he was being looked down on.

“That’s different. You know, Rin, if you’ve changed your mind about me, it’s okay. I already knew before this most likely wouldn’t work out, and even if you did become King and legalized divorces, what would happen, then? I’ll be your concubine,” she sneered, as if the mere thought sickened her. “People would reduce me into nothing but a whore. I don’t want to be hated just because I wanted you.”

Rintaro pursed his lips. Sure, the title ‘concubine’ didn’t come with many good meanings. But it was all he could give her. He couldn’t imagine making her his wife. Iris had too much of a temper for that, and with all the pretending and acts she puts on, he didn’t trust her enough to treat his people right when she wielded enough power.

She wasn’t kind like you.

She wasn’t like you.

He knew all of this, had realized it just now, yet he couldn’t bring himself to just go back. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed in defeat. “I’ve already gone this far. It’s a little too late to tell me to change my mind, you know?”

“I’m just reminding you this was your choice, not mine. And don’t forget if you do legalize divorces, and Kiyoomi and I did separate, does that mean you’ll divorce her, too?”

He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I’m not a whore, Rin. I’ve changed my mind. I no longer want to be just your sidepiece, your secret lover. I have been here with you before people even acknowledged your existence. I was here first. Don’t you think it’s unfair she gets to have you in all your glory and I can only have you in secret? Like what we feel for each other is something to be ashamed of,” tears pricked at her eyes, and Iris angrily wiped them away. Rintaro was frozen to his spot. He didn’t even feel like reaching to wipe them for her – his mind was just in a different place entirely. His exhaustion ran bone deep.

“If you want me to divorce Kiyoomi when you become King, you should divorce her too.”

“That wasn’t the plan. You said you were fine being a concubine–”

“It’s either me or her, Rin. Choose. Who will be your wife? Me or her?”

“You. It’s always going to be you.”

“Do you promise?”

“It’s just you!” he barked, surprising both himself and Iris. He’d never raised his tone with her before, yet there was no denying it – he was changing. Iris knew this, too, and Rintaro could tell by the wicked glint in her eye that she would use this against him.

Rintaro didn’t think twice before he slammed his lips to hers.

If she couldn’t be convinced with words, he would convince her with their bodies. It was how they communicated anyway – all arguments would always be resolved in the bedroom. They stumbled together back to his hotel room, lips only leaving one another’s for a brief moment to breathe, before they were clawing at each other’s clothes. She let out her rage on him by pushing him back to the bed, with her on top and ripping his shirt, uncaring of the remnants. When she kissed him, it was everything but sweet. He tasted nothing but hatred and pure anger as she shoved her tongue down his throat, and he choked, tightening his grip on her hips while she bounced.

They did not make love.

They simply shared their bodies for a lack of better things to say. He bruised her and fucked her hard enough the headboard slammed against the wall because he couldn’t say he missed you. She marked his skin with hickeys and claw marks down his back because she didn’t want to hear him say he missed you.

At talking, Rintaro and Iris lacked at.

But they spoke well enough with the violence of their bodies that by the end of the night, they both knew – Rintaro’s heart was no longer in the same room as them.

You took it with you from a thousand miles away.

Rintaro couldn’t sleep the entire night. Iris had passed out as soon as she’d satisfied herself, and after hogging the sheets all to herself, he’d given up on trying to sleep. It felt wrong to share the same bed with her, anyway. So he got up, showered, and scrolled on the latest news to look for you again. Still nothing – but apparently Itachiyama’s citizens were looking forward to you and Kiyoomi attending a movie’s premiere night.

He clutched his phone hard enough it shut off. Sighing, he leaned back against his seat on the couch, an arm draped around his arm. He’d gone past the borders of being pathetic. Now, he was just eager to see his wife again, but he had no way of communicating with you. So like the pathetic fool he was, he couldn’t stop himself from scrolling for hours when a rapid knocking banged down on his door. Frowning, he opened it, and was met with a shirtless Atsumu wrapped in nothing but a towel – his eyes bloodshot red, though he suspected, not from crying.

“‘Tsumu, what the fuck?” His brother reeked of alcohol and sex. Pinching his nose, he scanned the hallway for witnesses before opening his door wider. Atsumu scurried in without a word and plopped down on the seat, his knees bouncing repeatedly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I… I fucked up.”

“Yeah? What’s new about that?”

“No, I mean, I really fucked up,” he groaned, his head falling to his hands. Rintaro immediately felt bad about him, Walking forwards, he crossed his arm against his chest, encouraging his brother to continue. “Listen, the party was going great, and Yuki just looked even better in person. And she was fucking funny and so perfect, man.  I couldn’t help myself. But she was flirting with ‘Samu more and I got jealous so–”

“What did you do?”

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. He couldn’t look Rintaro in the eye, and the latter was growing more nervous by the second. “I may have made her drink more than she can handle… and pretended to be Osamu. So she’d sleep with me.”

“You are screwed.”

“I know, I know, but she’s going to wake up soon, and I don’t know what to do. I left the room, and–”

“Okay, calm down. Where’s ‘Samu?”

“Downstairs, eating breakfast.”

“You stay right here.”

Iris chose the wrong time to wake up. She must’ve heard Atsumu’s frantic ramblings and sat up from the bed, clutching the blanket to her naked chest. Upon seeing an equally nude Atsumu, she screeched, throwing the nearest pillow at him. “‘Tsumu, get out!” Atsumu fought back by throwing a smaller pillow her way. They began bickering like small children, and it was too early for any of this. He could feel a pounding at the back of his head already.

Tired. He was just tired.

“Iris, please, just – just stay here, the both of you, okay? I’ll be back.”

At least Rintaro had Atsumu’s mess to thank. He finally had a good enough excuse to not spend another moment in that suffocating room with her – or any of them. He’d wanted to leave hours before, but Iris wouldn’t have taken it well if she woke up without him. For now, though, Rintaro had to take on the role of a responsible older brother; something he’d never done before. Taking quick strides, he swung the door open when Atsumu called out for him.

“Wait. Rin!” Rintaro paused, raising a brow at his brother, whose face had been drained of color. “I’m sorry… I just… I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix this.”

Rintaro himself wasn’t convinced by his words. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of before that the Princes got their sexual needs satisfied without having been married. Save for a few like Wakatoshi, Keiji, Kita, and Tobio who all wanted to wait for marriage, he was a hundred percent certain his brothers had been with women before. This normally wasn’t a cause for concern. But Hiroda Yuki wasn’t just anyone. She was a model currently rising to fame, and not only was she inebriated during the act, but she’d been led to believe the man she took to bed with someone else. If she were to found out the truth, and decided to turn to the media to ruin his brothers, it’d be another issue for the throne. It didn’t affect Rintaro directly, but times were changing – people were growing restless the longer the crown sat without its King.

It was high time they chose a King, but a very few number of Princes hardly seemed eligible.

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Ushijima was the best choice to be King. He was fair, disciplined, and followed the rules to a tee. He also had a happy, stable marriage with a respectable noble woman, and they already have a healthy son. There weren’t any arguments that Rintaro paled in comparison to him.

But that didn’t mean he would give up so easily.

He wanted the throne. He wanted everything.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he headed for the lobby in search of the darker haired twin. He’d think about the Crown another time. Ducking his head to hide his face, he nodded at any passing staff and hid behind corners. It was only a matter of time before Yuki woke up. That presented another problem – should they hide the truth from her and keep Atsumu safe, or tell her what had really happened and risk having Atsumu be kicked out of the Palace?

Fuck. Rintaro didn’t know what to do, but maybe Osamu would.

His brother sat at the hotel’s dining area, happily digging into his meal without a care in the world. Oh, how lucky he was to be so ignorant. Out of the twins, Osamu was the more mild-mannered one and got into less trouble, but it didn’t change the fact Osamu was often the instigator, and Atsumu the willing victim who played into his hands. The situation felt more complicated now because Rintaro was unsure. Had Osamu planned this all along? Had he known that Atsumu wanted to sleep with Yuki and left them to themselves just when the both were drunk out of their asses?

Too many questions, and he struggled to form a coherent thought. But if he were Kita, he’d have this resolved within a second.

If he were Kita, but he wasn’t. He was just plain Rintaro, who wasn’t particularly great at anything, yet had unfortunately been branded with an extravagant title he never deserved.

Pulling out a seat before him, he narrowed his eyes at his brother. It was still early in the morning, so they had enough privacy with only very few people having breakfast. No one paid them any attention as Rintaro leaned forward, his voice low and hushed.

“Where were you last night?”

“Good morning to you, too, dear brother,” quipped Osamu through a mouthful of waffles, “Lovely set of breakfast they serve here. You should try some.”

“‘Samu, I’m serious. Did you stay at the party last night?”

Osamu, the little ass, took his sweet time chewing and swallowing before he spoke. “No, I went home after ‘Tsumu went out with the model. I just came back to pick him up. I figured he’d be too drunk to drive home.”

Rintaro wanted to ask for more details. There had to be more to the story. The twins were both cunning when they wanted to be, although he doubted Osamu would do anything to intentionally harm his twin. It seemed possible, but he couldn’t be too careful. None of them could afford any defamation lest the people decided for themselves how uncontrollable and unruly the Princes are. Their father had already broken the people’s trust by having multiple sons with different women. They treaded on eggshells, even more so when Rintaro opened his mouth to speak, and was cut off by the crowd whispering around them.

He and Osamu froze. They could barely make out the words from their mumbling at this distance, but they were no fools. They could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on them. With their phones pulled out, they whispered amongst themselves and sent looks of disbelief towards the Princes. Rintaro’s heart raced as he made eye contact with his brother.

They both pulled out their phones and checked the latest news.

An article published just a few hours ago trended worldwide at number one. A photograph of Rin and Iris making love could be seen through a window, with the headline implying that they were secretly lovers all along. His heart dropped. He scrolled down to the comments, his fist turning white at the knuckles as he read them.

That’s disgusting! Wasn’t Prince Rintaro recently married? It seems like being a cheater runs in the blood, after all. He’s just like his daddy To think they did this while their spouses were away for official duty… unbelievable. Disappointed, but not surprised. Princess Iris always seemed like a skank. Never liked her. She came to give aid when there was a storm in our village once, and she kept complaining she was tired. Now she’s going around sleeping with other people’s husbands *laughing sticker* lol she sounds like a bitch Is this real?????????? This has to be fake. The Crown Prince loves his wife! Delete this post now! You’re in trouble once the Palace sees this!

Rintaro pocketed his phone. “We need to leave.”

He dragged Osamu by the arm, ignoring his brother’s complaints that he hadn’t eaten his berries yet. One glare shut him up. They had bigger things to worry about than some stupid fucking berries.

“Call Shinsuke. We need help.”

All four of them hid in Rintaro’s room until Kita arrived. It hadn’t been long, maybe less than an hour, but the wait was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, he’d brought a security team with them. The Princes were escorted out through the back doors and into their cars, although it was too late. Reporters and journalists were already swarming outside the hotel. Kita had stayed back to tell the hotel staff they were not allowed to speak of what they saw or heard during last night’s party under no circumstances. The Princes’ safety were their utmost priority. Everything would be dealt with accordingly. Just as they pulled out of the hotel’s parking, Atsumu informed Kita about Yuki, and the situation he left her in.

Shinsuke’s lips thinned. Already, he looked bone tired. Waving a hand, he dismissed his brothers and promised he’d take care of her once she woke up. For now, they had to stay low and keep out of the public’s eye until the situation died down.

“You all best behave when you get back,” Shinsuke warned, “Her Majesty is furious.”

Of that, he had no doubt. Her Majesty had been eerily quiet since everyone’s return from the honeymoon. But Suna knew his mother better than anyone; she wasn’t letting things pass by, she was only watching from the sidelines, waiting to see who would drop the ball first. And to no one’s surprise, it would be Rintaro.

Her Majesty was right. He couldn’t keep this secret affair with Iris forever.

One way or another, the truth would be revealed, and the truth itself would be his damnation.

None of them uttered a word as they sat next to each other in the car. Atsumu’s still bouncing his leg, causing the seat to shake, but Osamu could care less. He simply gazed out the window. Iris, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped crying, her shoulders shaking silently. Mascara ran down her face in streaks, her lipstick smudged and her torn dress doing very little to hide the love marks on her skin. Gods. Rintaro’s headache worsened. If they got out of the car and the paparazzi took even one photo of Iris in her post-sex state, they were done for.

Rintaro could kiss his precious Crown goodbye.

Walking back to the Palace was akin to walking to your own death.

The lobby was torn upside down. Calling it a mess would be an understatement. The Queen stood in the middle of the furniture she’d flipped and thrown, shards of broken glass all around them as she heaved. The pure image of rage – and he had been the cause. “Fools! Idiotic fools, all of you!” she screamed, stomping through the glass as she reached up to fist Iris’ hair.

“Ow, Your Majesty–”

Her Majesty scrunched her nose at the scent of smoke and alcohol coming off from her, further fuelling her anger. “And you! By the Gods, I knew marrying you into this family was a grave mistake, but you just keep making me regret I ever laid eyes on you, don’t you? You lowly, good-for-nothing whore.”

“Mother!”

“You do not get to speak!” she turned to him and harshly let go of Iris, causing her to stumble and fall onto the broken glass. Panicked, Rintaro reached out for her, but the Queen had caught his arm, reared hers back and landed a slap on his cheek. Rintaro was stunned – she’d been harsh and cruel, but she never laid a hand on him. “Do you have any idea what you did? The throne is all in shambles because of you! The Cabinet hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article came out, and I have all our lines busy with people demanding for answers! And you dare raise your voice at me? I told you, multiple times, that you need to stop with your trysts. How will you be King now that you’ve lost the people’s trust?”

“He will not become King,” announced a deep voice they knew all too-well. Like a demon that only showed up in your worst nightmares, Ushijima strutted inside the room, an air of authority and finality surrounding him. “I should be the King. Help me have the throne, and I will resolve all of this,” he studied them all – Atsumu with his guilt, Osamu who was too scared of the Queen to move a single muscle, Iris clutching her bloodied arm, and Suna with disappointment written all over his features. “Clearly, he is not fit to lead this country. He is still but a foolish, young man.”

Foolish.

Stupid.

Reckless.

He’s just like his father.

He’d be a failure as King – just. Like. His. Father.

So that was who he was then. A failure. He’d become the one thing he swore not to be. How would you look at him now? You always gazed upon him with stars in your eyes, like he was the best thing to ever happen in your life. No one had ever looked at him that way before – not his mother, not even Iris. In Iris’ eyes, he was simply… a boy. A boy with no knowledge and experience in this world, a boy who she felt she had to teach because he knew so little. Only you looked at him with adoration, and even that had been taken away. Or, no, he ruined it. Just as he was the reason you used to smile, he’d also become your greatest pain. And maybe, once you’d returned him and seen how the entire country and his whole family had hated him, you would see him for who he is too – nothing but a failure.

The good for nothing Prince.

He should have known. The Palace was no place for the likes of him. He should have just stopped trying so hard to be King. He should have never used Iris as an excuse to quell his insecurity. But was it truly a crime to want to feel like he was needed?

He didn’t know anymore. The only thing he knows now was that he needed to leave, and without another word, stepped out of the room.

“Rintaro! Where are you going?!”

He ignored his mother calling for him. Perhaps he should stop calling her that, too. She’d barely been a mother. She was more of a Queen, bending and breaking her back to His Majesty’s will. She loved the crown and the power it gave her more than anything, that she willingly sacrificed her dignity to keep her position. For many nights, Rintaro watched his mother leave their quarters crying, battered and bruised. It was confusing for a young boy like him. Weren’t mommies and daddies supposed to love one another? But the Queen would scold him for being awake past midnight, and rush him back to bed while she limped on her way. She never loved the King, and because he was his son, she never loved him, too.

Rintaro was nothing but another tool for Her Majesty to stay in power.

She could never become King and hold the Kingdom for herself, but he could. Wasn’t that why she kept him locked away for years and groomed him to take in his Father’s steps?

I kind of did, he thought sarcastically, I’m a horrible husband just like him.

When you arrived in Inarizaki, the country was in chaos. People flocked you from left and right when you and Kiyoomi left the plane, causing the older Prince to break his silence and scold the nosy reporters. Flabbergasted at his sudden outburst that seemed out of character; they lowered their cameras and gave you enough breathing space. The peace, however, did not last long. Her Majesty was furious beyond what one can imagine – akin to a dragon breathing fire down to anyone who dared come near her tower. The twins, who apparently started this fire and caused Rintaro to be the fuel, had been shut away in their rooms in fear of angering her. Iris, from what little you heard about her, was being ruthlessly flamed by the media. They’d called her all sorts of unkind things you would’ve never dared say out loud.

But for some reason, seeing their downfall did not give you any satisfaction.

Because at the end of the day, they were the people you and Kiyoomi returned to. You may walk down the same hallways in the Palace, but he would always be in Belleview Manor to look for her. And you were well on your way to search for the Crown Prince who walked out on his mother.

The guards took some time to find his location, but once they did, they did not hesitate in informing you. Everyone believed you were the only person he’d want to speak to right now. So you drove up to the mountains, where it was barren and cold, and you had to use a truck to survive the rocky terrain. Seriously, out of all the places he could be, he chose to wallow in misery at the top of the world – in the pouring rain, no less.

Boots muddied from the storm, you hopped out of your truck and opened an umbrella, clutching your coat tighter as you watched your husband from afar.

This mountain served as a border between Inarizaki and Itachiyama. From where you stood, you could see the two countries – Itachiyama with its rich nature, and Inarizaki with its towering Castles and bustling cities. Once a united nation, now split into two – all because of love. A tragic story, yet a realistic one. It only goes to show how powerful, and dangerous, love could be. You knew better than anyone that whatever made you happiest could also be your greatest demise.

And there was the said demise – crouching as he picked up pebbles and threw it off the mountain wall. He wore the same shirt as from the photograph; wrinkled and stained with lipstick. Even from this distance, you could smell her on him, and you wanted to laugh. Perhaps Kiyoomi was right – maybe they never loved each other. Maybe they were just lonely.

Extending the umbrella until your husband was shielded from the rain, you softened. Rintaro visibly froze when the rain stopped pelting against him. His wet hair stuck to his face, his shirt plastered on his skin.

A myriad of emotions flickered through his devastatingly handsome face: relief, worry, surprise.

You broke the silence first and crouched down next to him. When Rintaro stiffened, you smiled, showing him you were not here to be his enemy. “My Prince. You are a difficult man to find.”

“Princess,” he breathed out, and you realized the poor Prince was shivering. His face broke into that of despair upon seeing you. “I didn’t know you would be home so early.”

“I had some matters to attend to.”

“You saw the article,” he guessed, and you nodded. Rintaro then stood to his full height, and you followed, causing his head to bump into the umbrella since he was taller. For a moment, he crouched to fit in under the small space. But it was uncomfortable, and soon, he was gently taking the umbrella and holding it for the both of you – more for you, though, since rain still trailed down his back. “I’m sorry.”

“It was bound to happen,” shrugging, you gestured for him to take a walk with you. It was far from being the most scenic place to have a peaceful walk in, but it would do.

You two were silent for a moment. Rintaro seemed to have a thousand thoughts running through his head when you finally spoke.

“How are you?”

“Tired. And you?”

“I’ve had better days.”

Rintaro stole a cautious glance. “Are you mad at me?”

You chuckled, and the sound of it stupefied him. His eyes widened as if afraid, but truly, there was no need to be. You weren’t in the mood to argue with him. “Not really. I feel like I was mad at you a long time ago, and now I’m just… Numb to it all, I suppose,” you said, absentmindedly spinning the wedding ring you both wore. Such a simple jewelry, yet it symbolized so much more. When you spoke again, the rain had calmed down a little bit, but the cold had already seeped into both of your bones. “Marriage is difficult. You have to stay true to your vows, even when the times are challenging. In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse. ‘Till death do us part,” you glanced up at him, taking in those handsome features you fell in love with – his hazel eyes, his soft lips you loved to kiss, and his face you often cradled in your palms. Even right now, you wanted to kiss him, if only to give comfort, but you had to know first –

“Do you intend on keeping your marriage vows, Your Highness?”

He averted his gaze. “I doubt our marriage is valid anymore. The country thinks I am a horrible husband to you.”

“It’s not like I’ve been the best wife myself,” you admitted, your chest aching as you remembered the Second Prince – his gentle smiles directed only at you, the castle ruins, his large palms holding you tenderly, and the crestfallen look on his face when you told him you had to look for your husband. Such a great man, but the timing couldn’t be worse. And Gods, you couldn’t help it. You cried. You mourned the love you could have had.

You grieved for the life you could have had, the person you could’ve become.

If it had been Kiyoomi, it would be so much easier. He would love you in the way you wanted. He would you close to his arms all night long because he wouldn’t want to let go. He would chase away those stupid chickens for you. He would hide you away from the rest of the world and given you a life of solitude and peace – it would’ve been simple, and it would’ve been perfect.

But Kiyoomi was already married, and so were you.

And you felt horrible because he was great, but then you’d become a horrible wife. You would be exactly like Rintaro if you had given into your desire and kissed him. Kiyoomi wasn’t yours. But was Rintaro? Your heart was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Why couldn’t it all just work out?

Why couldn’t it be him?

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you forced the thoughts of the curly-haired prince out of your head. “I wish I hated you, Rintaro. I wish… I wish I never met you. I wish you never danced with me at your brother’s ball. I wish you never courted me. I wish you never came into my life and changed everything. It would have been better to never have been loved, than to have loved and been betrayed.”

Rintaro stepped forward, his arm extending to wipe your tears for you but even he could tell you were refused. So he kept his distance, clutching the umbrella tighter as his voice broke. “I’m sorry. I really am. It just… I didn’t want for it happen. You were all I thought about. When you were gone and you didn’t call or texted once, I thought I was losing you. I wanted you back.”

You shook your head. “You cannot have everything you want. You know that.”

His face dropped.

“Are you going to make me choose, too?”

“No. I already know who you would choose,” and you did, yet your heart still ached for him, for your husband, the one thing you couldn’t have. Only you didn’t feel like laughing, not when Rintaro looked at you with just as much confliction. “Is it foolish of me that I still love you even after everything you’ve done?”

His lips curled the slightest bit. “A little, but I am the last man to judge you if you were foolish, which you aren’t.”

You laughed sardonically. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I know,” he mumbled.

Who knew two words alone could puncture one’s heart so much?

Looking away, you both remained silent until Rintaro dropped the question. “What will happen to us now? Divorce is unlikely, but I might be stripped off my titles. I don’t know. But I have a feeling I certainly won’t become King anymore.”

“Do you want to be?”

Rintaro thought about it. “I do. It’s all I’ve ever known to pursue.”

“Then stand tall, my Prince. A future King doesn’t bow down to anyone, not even his Queen, and most especially not when the world is against him. We can fix this. I can fix this. I can restore your glory, but I need you to place your full trust on me.”

The plan you formed in your head would be considered insane. Her Majesty would certainly be furious, but if this was the only way to leave Rintaro, you would do it. You would protect him. You would give him back his power, and once he’s had it all, you’ll remove yourself from his life. He cannot have everything that he wants – but if you could not have love, then you want power. Even for just a brief moment, you were determined.

You were going to ruin her.

The drive back to the Palace was silent. He’d agreed to whatever plan you had, regardless of what the outcome might be. He didn’t even know what you truly had in mind. He just trusted you wholeheartedly like you asked, and told you to do as you pleased. Right now, the Crown Prince was weak. His mind was far too disturbed to process anything correctly. You would take advantage of it, simply because his compliance would be the only thing to ensure your success.

He just needed to remain silent.

Claiming he was exhausted, Rintaro went ahead first. It’d be another night where you’d sleep separately, and you would both definitely be awake the whole time. Just as you rounded the corner, you saw a hunched figure resting against the wall. He looked like he’d been waiting for you for a while. Upon hearing your footsteps, Kiyoomi raised his head – his dark eyes vulnerable, almost if hoping you would be the same as you were yesterday.

You wanted to. Truly, you did.

But the person he’d been with in Itachiyama was someone else entirely. She was someone happier, someone who didn’t have a broken marriage to worry about. She was someone who could have loved him.

Now, you were the same Princess he’d always known – the one who could never choose him.

Kiyoomi nodded to himself. He must have realized everything by now. What happened in Itachiyama stayed in Itachiyama. Pushing his weight off the wall, he strode to you with a blank expression. His eyes had gone cold again.

“We will never speak again, will we?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out, “He needs me right now.”

“I know,” Kiyoomi had never sounded so defeated broke, and it broke your heart. It made you want to run into his arms, to tell him it could’ve been him if you met him first. But that would sound wrong, wouldn’t it? He had been first. He’d been the last dance; the destined lover. The fated one. But man’s willpower could be so strong it battled even destiny itself, and you were both nothing but a fragment of the could’ve been’s.

“Good luck, Princess, in all your endeavors,” and then, just when you thought he would kiss you as he leaned forward, you closed your eyes. Waited with bated breath.

But he never did.

Kiyoomi only kissed your cheek, and then his scent and his warmth disappeared sooner than you would like. When he walked away, you saw all the what if’s you had to let go of.

The dream life with Kiyoomi vanished into thin air.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you forced yourself to turn and never look back. Kiyoomi was surely doing the same. He’d come to peace with it eventually, the love he could’ve had, the marriage he should’ve had. Itachiyama was nothing but a fantasy anyway. He wasn’t a real farmer just as you weren’t someone he could call his. It was a story doomed from the beginning.

Numbness spread all throughout your body. You’d been too drained to cry further, too exhausted to regret what you’d just done. The voice in your mind, the one who craved Kiyoomi like man needed air, had been eerily silent, too. It was if she, too, knew there was no point chasing after something that didn’t want to be chased in the first place.

All you could do was close your eyes and push the image of Kiyoomi’s smile out of your head.

He wasn’t yours. He could never be yours.

After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived at your shared quarters. The same room you left your husband in, and quite possibly the same room he slept with his mistress while you were gone.

You sighed. Opening the door, you were met by the sight of Rintaro pouring himself a drink. He’d already changed clothes – ones free of Iris’ lipstick and perfume. He looked fresh, much more composed than when he was a mess hours ago, yet he seemed… distant. Usually, he’d already perk up at you entering the room. But his face was devoid of any emotion as he poured wine into a second glass, deftly picking it up before downing it in one go. Your gaze fixated on the bobbing of his throat. How Iris’ lips kissed the column of his neck, how she’d whispered praises into his skin, how Rintaro allowed it all.

He slammed his empty glass down on the table. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the sides of it, his voice unnaturally low as he spoke. “You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?”

“Why you weren’t mad after reading the article,” his knuckles turned white from when he tightened his grip. He took slow exhales as if to calm himself, his grip loosening before he snatched another glass.

Back straightened, Rintaro towered over you as he took slow, careful, deliberate steps – akin to a predator sneaking up on its prey. Your heart drummed in your chest, loud enough it could’ve echoed in the spacious chamber, but you stood your ground. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing his effect on you. Then, he stood in front of you – close enough you saw the steady rise and fall of his chest, the tipping of his head to the side as he narrowed his gaze at you. Inquisitively, suspiciously, like peeling away the layers of your skin to reveal your dirtiest secrets.

“Strange, don’t you think? Any sane wife who found out their husband was cheating on them would’ve screamed and kicked already. You didn’t do any of that.”

“I told you already. I’m too tired for any of that.”

“It could be that,” he raised his glass to your face, a portentous smirk dancing on his lips. “Or you could also be directing your affections to someone else.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He rolled his eyes, but otherwise kept his gaze on you as he sipped his drink and taking his sweet sweet time. “I wouldn’t have slept with her if you didn’t leave. You know I despise Kiyoomi, yet you still went. You completely disregarded my feelings when I said I didn’t want you to go,” he grounded his teeth, jaw clenching from the effort of holding himself back. “Is it him, then? Are you choosing him over me?”

He sounded so serious in his accusations you almost believed it yourself. “Don’t be absurd, Rintaro.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I strike a chord?” he said in a sing-song manner, the smile dropping from his face when you kept your lips shut. “So the rumors were right. You went with him to get back at me.”

Your jaw dropped. Yes, you enjoyed the time with Kiyoomi. Yes, you wished you never left, and you were already regretting each minute you spent longer in this damned space with him. Yes, you thought about Kiyoomi in ways you shouldn’t have – and god forbid you nearly asked him to kiss you, but not once did you think about using his brother as a ploy.

You weren’t like him.

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

Rintaro fumed. He flung his empty glass across the room, the shattering sound muted by his yells. “Prove it to me, then!”

“Are you even hearing yourself? I’m not the one who cheated! Don’t you dare turn this around and make it seem like it was my fault.”

“But it was! If you didn’t go around fucking my brother behind my back, I would’ve stayed loyal to you! I would’ve waited until you returned! What, you thought I wouldn’t know what you were doing there with him? Doing fertility dances, sharing dinners with his mother like you’re his wife, lighting stupid fucking lanterns–” swinging your arm back, your palm connected with his cheek, a resounding slap rendering the Prince speechless. He stepped back, clutching his reddened cheeks as he stared at you in disbelief.

“That is enough. Utter one more word, and I will never speak to you again.”

“You aren’t even denying it,” he spat out, “Have you fallen for him?”

You were done. So done. You wouldn’t have any of this anymore. Sidestepping him, you walked past and away from your husband, heading for your bedroom where you planned on slamming the door in his face. You’d cry for hours there if you needed to – anything to have him leave you alone. But your husband was just as stubborn as he was determined, catching up to you with ease before catching your wrist. He spun you to face him, and you froze – he reeked of alcohol, his lips and cheeks painfully red, but his eyes.

You couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill you or keep you.

“Answer me!”

You fought against his grasp. He was stronger than you by all means; you struggled and kicked and pounded your fists on his chest, but Rintaro didn’t budge. He let you hit him however you pleased, demanding repeatedly to tell him he was wrong – how you wouldn’t choose his brother over him, how it’d be him – forever and always.

“I hate you!” you bellowed at his face, falling limp in his arms from all your fighting. “I wish I never married you – it should’ve been him! I should’ve married your brother!”

“That’s a lie!”

“Oh, don’t look so hurt now, Prince. You don’t even feel a sliver of what I do. Need I remind you that you constantly choose her over me, your wife? Why should I be loyal to you when you’re not even mine?”

“I am yours.”

“You’re hers, too,” you reminded him, your eyes glinting with mischief as you recalled Kiyoomi’s words. Just then, cruel laughter bubbled from your lips. Two could play this game, and you would be the winner. He wanted to hurt you? Fine. You could hurt him even more. “You know what’s laughable, Rin? The woman you’re fighting tooth and nail for doesn’t even want you.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed harder, practically shaking in his arms as you did. Taunting him, you nudged your nose with his, forcing him to look at you and feed on your wrath. “I’m right, aren’t I? She doesn’t like you. She’s merely using you for fame and pleasure because her husband isn’t attracted to her–” the breath was slammed out your throat. In mere seconds, Rintaro had shoved you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with such ferocity it burned you. Your eyes stung from your tears, the back of your skull beginning to throb. But Rintaro wasn’t done with you yet.

Pinning your wrists above your head, you gasped, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like scotch and smelled faintly of her perfume. It made your stomach churn, and soon, you were groaning into his mouth, desperately trying to win in this battle of dominance. He was angry as you were frustrated, your lips molding against each other’s like swords clashing in a battle. He struck first, his kisses passionately bitter, but his taste addictingly sweet. You fought back against his hold, your breasts sliding down across his chest and you moaned – he groaned – tugging your bottom lip between his teeth until you couldn’t tell who the enemy was anymore. You shouldn’t kiss him, you shouldn’t enjoy it, but his lips were as familiar as a sunny day and you were a woman in need of light in your life.

He’s repulsive, your mind argued.

But he’s mine, your heart decided. He was, and always will be, yours. He could have Iris for as long as he wanted, but it was you who’d taken his name. It was your ring on his finger, your face next to him in the royal portraits. You weren’t the shameful mistress – you were the rightful wife. You could have him as you pleased, ruin him to your delight. Break him into thousands of pieces only to pick him up again because he was yours, yours, yours.

Threading your fingers to his hair, you dragged him closer to you. Breathed him in, pawed at his shirt in a demand for him to take it off. He was more than willing to oblige, the two of you making quick work of his buttons in between messy, breathy kisses. Shirt discarded, he grabbed your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct – the next sequence of events like a movie you’d seen before.

Your clothes on the carpeted floor.

Rintaro on top of you, your fingers intertwined beside your head. His lips on your neck, bruises on your skin and the imprint of his hands on your hips. Your mewls right on his ear. The quivering of your thighs, the stain on the sheets – the day turning into night, from dusk until dawn. He thrusts deep, enough to have you inhaling sharply through your nose. And there it was – the unmistakable scent of a vanilla perfume you’ve never owned. It’s everywhere in the room now that your eyes opened, the hazy cloud of lust ebbing away. Iris’ perfume on your vanity area, a discarded pair of white lacy thongs that wasn’t yours peeking from under the closet, and her scent – her stupidly sweet, innocent scent – blanketing the silk of your sheets.

Slowly, your fingers detached from Suna as you turned to the sides, inhaling the sheets once more because it couldn’t be, right? Maybe you had it wrong. Rintaro wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t be so cruel. You never even shared this bed with him ever since you got married. You’ve never had him hold you close as you fall asleep, never had your head resting on his chest while you both waited for the next day. He was a cruel man, yes, but he wouldn’t dare do this to you. Not while you were gone, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.

Yet there it was, the scent of a floral shampoo you couldn’t recognize on your pillows, and the faint smatters of vanilla and cinnamon lingered behind.

And when the damage is done, and your heart is more confused now than ever – Rintaro momentarily slumps before you, held up only by his arms, he realizes too late the tears stained on your cheeks.

“You brought her here.”

It wasn’t a question, not even an accusation. You spoke nothing but the truth, and Rintaro’s crestfallen face said it all. He’d brought her here, made love with her on your bed. Somehow, finding out that he’d fucked her in the one place you found solace in the Palace hurt more than knowing he fucked her everywhere else.

It was as if he’d stained you. Spat right at your face. Desecrated the one place you wished to hold him in, and rubbed it in your face that he couldn’t make love to you in your bed. But he could with her, because it was always going to be her, wasn’t it?

No matter how hard you tried, it was never going to be you.

Silence dawned on the room. There’s nothing but the rapid beating of your hearts, and the soft sniffles you muffle behind your first. He sees two things on your face that night: one of beauty, and one of regret. He dared himself to be brave, to wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. The motion was oddly comforting, and for a moment – just a quick moment – you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. Leaning into the warmth of his palm, more tears dampened his skin. You were torn between asking him to stay, to hold you until it hurt less, and asking him to leave and give you a moment for yourself.

But Rintaro had already decided.

With a final kiss to your forehead, your husband crawled out of the bed. He glanced at you one last time before slipping his ring off, setting it on your bedside table, before quietly – and resolutely – leaving you behind.

[grison-in-space]

yesterday's talk to the neurodivergency activism program also included a fun "ethics in research on neurodivergence" panel conversation at the end when one person expressed this real frustration with the academy: that it's so unfriendly to neurodivergent people who can't navigate the social structures of academia, and it is so frustrating to this person to know that they want to go back to school and get the PhD but it's so unfriendly to neurodivergent people--

bear in mind, I'm the only openly neurodivergent researcher on the panel and by far the most junior (the others are all established faculty), plus I do animal research which is probably as far from the rather clinical focus of the folks in that program as humanly possible. and I've discussed openly how relational academia is, and how much it relies on the approval of your supervisors. we've even had a nice conversation about the same thing in clinical practice.

but I'm sitting here going... you know what, the interpersonal fuckery that almost ended my career actually was a result of blundering into another neurodivergent person's unacknowledged shame spiral, actually? you know that neurotypical research PIs are a distinct minority in my experience? you know that this is an incredibly dysfunctional institution, I ain't arguing that, but it's also one that has been by and large built for, by, and around neurodivergent people's needs and desires?

it's just they don't know it, so if you talk about it openly you get panic reactions. but it's so, so, so funny to see. (as I expanded on this theme the lady I liked best, a black woman working on intersections between developmental disabilities, race, and access to health care, is just grinning SO wide and almost giggling to herself.) you label yourself and people go OH NO A LABEL but if you know how to see the shape of the thing the label is supposed to describe, you can see that they oughta have a label, too.

so on the one hand, real consequences for being too open about yourself, but on the other hand, things actually have gotten so much better in the last 5-10 years. and on the gripping hand, just being in a space with only other neurodivergent people does not necessarily fix the problem of inadequate communication, hurt feelings, bad relationships with power, and weird insecurities. it just doesn't fix it. what works is understanding how to resolve conflicts, building structures that are less reliant on single dyadic relationships, and finding alternate ways to make connections with scholars in your field.

dammit, this means I should probably poke my bluesky again. fff.

[beguines]

As neoliberalism has infected higher education, research on "mental health issues" in the academy has become increasingly conservative. My own subject area, sociology, is as guilty as any other. We have lost sight of what it means to think critically about the mental health system, to be able to challenge the work of the psy-professions, to interrogate meaningfully the production of knowledge claims on "mental disease," and to adequately contextualise the expansion of the psychiatric discourse with reference to theoretical sets of ideas which refer to labelling, power, and social control. We have effectively become pseudo-social psychologists whose research agenda is passed down to us by state agencies, requiring us to do little more than identify marginalised groups who can be labelled and policed by the psychiatric authorities and the criminal justice system. Having a once proud tradition of highlighting the systematic, oppressive practices of the mental health system, the sociology of mental health is now in severe danger of simply becoming another arm of the state. Far too much of what passes for "research" in the discipline is flawed from the beginning: it takes for granted that the mental health system is a fundamentally caring, scientifically sound discipline; it accepts mental illness diagnoses as valid and having a proved aetiology; and the empirical lens is focused outward on "undetected" pathologies in the general population rather than inward on the pathological behaviour of the institution of psychiatry and its allies. The result is that we end up with sociological research and scholarship which perpetuates the myths of psychiatric knowledge and aids the expansion of psychiatric hegemony (how many times have we read at the conclusion of such articles and books that there is a gap—an "unmet need"—in current mental health provision for which further resources and staffing is required?).

Thus, we need to resist the top-down state-run agenda and reject funding streams that tie us into conservative, surveillance-focused projects. We also need to be vocal in challenging the scholars who take on such projects and reproduce the same old nonsense on mental illness prevalence which reinforces the hegemonic view of black, female, young, LGBT, working class, and other marginalised populations as pathological. As always, sociological investigation needs to focus on the powerful rather than the powerless. This requires the revitalisation of a truly critical research agenda for the sociology of mental health in which the operations and practices of the psy-professions and their production of knowledge claims are prioritised. Research would then focus on the politics of diagnostic construction and professional power, on how psy-professionals turn subjective, personal understandings of human beings into categories of pathology, on the inner workings of the mental health system, on the conflicts and alliances made internally and externally to these professions, and on their constant need to justify mental health practice as medically and scientifically relevant.

Bruce M.Z. Cohen, Psychiatric Hegemony: A Marxist Theory of Mental Illness

[jymwahuwu]

@blbrrymilk again c: your spanking post for ratio gave me some brainrot..

have you seen this hentai ??https://myanimelist.net/anime/31886/Dropout u///u

it's about students who end up basically as pets/ servants to the top students in their class (or staff for this ask/au) because of their low grades. it made me think of Dr.Ratio and the genius society indulging in this behavior quietly among their institution. reader is so happy they recieved the letter to enroll into a prestigious academy only to find out what happens when they can't keep their GPA high enough :)

cw: yandere, non-con, corporal punishment, abuse of power

>///< I researched this hentai. This is great, thank you for the recommendation!! I like being a pet or being used…

And what you mentioned - yes, yes, an emotional rollercoaster. You have been looking forward to this offer. This is the famous college of your dreams, because there are famous scholars in the universe. Congratulations from your friends/family. You excitedly picked out your new clothes and prepared to study for your subjects. You took a spaceship and came to this academy to enroll…but everything was not as you imagined. From the beginning, you and all students were told that you needed to achieve a certain GPA! And the goal you received was 4.0… 4.0? This requires an A or A+ in every required and elective course!

And it is said that those who fail to achieve this goal will be punished. You have seen some students return to their seats with red eyes or a slightly hoarse voice. You ask them what happened, but they shake their heads and don't answer. And this didn't just happen when grades were issued at the end of the semester, Dr. Ratio has already selected you as his student.

If the naughty behavior is corrected, if you are distracted for 5 minutes in class, you will be spanked for 5 minutes after class, with a bare bottom. You cried and clenched the chair, those slaps hitting your buttocks firmly, leaving marks. If you talk back, then you have to serve his cock and copy from the textbook…

It's the end of the semester. Even though you have tried your best to study, you still cannot meet the GPA requirements. Dr. Ratio, who has always had high expectations for you, tells you that you need to attend a "private counseling session." You know what will happen 🤤💖

[sy-on-boy]

My 2 cents on the plot / thematic relevance of Ch 95

This is not about advancing Plot B or showing Anya's school life (which is still true but has been discussed), but rather the overall theme of education and war. There was an excellent post about how Eden is at the frontline of the cold war and it is subtly shown through the innocent lens of the first graders (I can't find it now, would link it if I could). And I think that perfectly applies to Ch 95.

Quick recap on some references about education/students/war throughout the series (that I remember at the moment):

Sylvia gravely condemning the Berlint University Student Terrorists during the Doggy Crisis arc (Ch 20) and saying "did you learn nothing about war at your university?"

Henderson talking about his experience as a history teacher (Ch 27.5, Short Mission 4) and quote: "Yes, well, I have always maintained that there is nothing to be learned from the memorization of time lines. From the grand efforts with which our forefathers crafted society to the foolish notions that sent them racing to war, to not study the human element at history's root is to not understand history at all"

Note that Damian's best subject has been established to be history, and his family (father) has been involved in war, at least Donovan was PM during most of the war (established by Melinda in Ch 91). Donovan is also a graduated Imperial Scholar (Ch 64).

The Red Circus group started out as a peaceful student demonstration "advocating for peace and quality" (Ch 72) and "speaking out to protect the weakest members of our society". And Billy Squire said, "We were a respectable movement that fought for our cause with respectable means. It was the state that turned violent against us. So I'm not taking criticism from a member of the establishment (referring to Henderson, an educator). I'm gonna see to it that they reap what they've sown." Billy's daughter Biddy was killed by the state at a protest.

Less of a point, but Becky is the daughter of the CEO of a major military manufacturer. Despite their very likely involvement in military conflicts because they sell arms, the Blackbell cohort has been depicted positively so far: Becky being a kind, wonderful friend to Anya, Becky's father doting on her, and Martha again being kind and dignified (and also being an ex-soldier and acquainted with Henderson).

Eden Academy is a major setting for SxF and the themes of politics, education, and war are embedded in it. The students involved in protests/groups are older (the university students, Billy's daughter), but the political implications remain even among the youngest of the students— the first graders.

Hence, Ch 95. When mere first graders are shown to fight to gain connections, which can be political as pointed out by Henderson: "In the world of politics, dances serve as major social events". But of course, they are kids, so they see it more playfully and innocently, especially Becky with her shipper lens on.

Of course, there is also the aspect of getting to know other people better out of interest (the boys asking Anya and Becky to dance because they were impressed after the bus hijacking). But as people have mentioned, nobody mentions this to Damian despite him being equally involved in saving the class (all three of them got a star). The girls aren't interested in Damian as a person, they're interested in him as an asset because of his family and their power.

And I can see the teachers trying to diffuse the tension and create camaraderie with their friendly competition. To me, this reads as the teachers fully realizing "the battlefield of political maneuvering", and they want to remind the kids to have fun, to show good sportsmanship, to unite the kids, to operate as a class and be friendly with one another, and overall make it more lighthearted. It's nice to see the classes work together and get excited / win as a unit, especially compared to the more "individual" bits of fighting for a dance partner later.

We get a bit of comparison between Bill and Damian, with Bill showing good sportsmanship while Damian scoffs at him. But Damian ends up becoming ultra competitive and telling his classmates to not screw it up.

Like the Dodgeball chapter, Damian is clumsily attempting to lead the class by doing good in his quiz, while getting stressed and yelling at his peers when they don't succeed like he did. So he's not really a good leader. Like how him being good at history does not necessarily mean he is good at being peaceful (Short Mission 4 ends with Henderson staring in exasperation at Damian + Anya bickering with each other). But obviously, he is merely a child, and he is naturally immature.

At first Loid is all for advancing Plan B and analysed Anya's suitors in a rational (reductionist?) way by ranking them in terms of gaining intelligence, but he remembers this is just a dance, Anya is a kid, and she should do whatever she wants. Loid (and the adults) are very aware of the political side of the gala, but ultimately they want the kids to have fun and not worry / worry less about politics.

Because they're kids! They'll grow up and learn more and be politically active later, but right now, they're just kids. Kids who don't know much about the world but are eager to make the world a better place.

In the end, we get a panel of Anya and Loid "teaming up" to win Damian's hand for Plan B / world peace. The Damian-Anya dynamic is cushioned with the silly crushy feelings, but underneath it, Operation Strix continues to be a core motivation.

I find it interesting that Endo chooses to focus on the first graders and their innocent view of the world / politics. It's embedded everywhere and especially in a prominent school like Eden, but the kids don't really realise it / realise the severity of it. Heirs and heiresses are educated at Eden and grow up to have incredible influence and the power to shape the world. Our protagonist's best friend comes from a family that manufactures arms. Henderson mentions the importance of learning history to avoid making the same mistakes (ie. war).

So Ch 95 is a cute prom chapter. But I think it also helps to show the themes underneath the fun, bubbly interactions.

[cantareincminor]

For the Sake of Appearances

It's obvious that Eden Academy is a superficial place, despite the efforts of Henderson and other teachers to uphold its educational mission. Like any elite institution, most of its students hail from rich families and don't actually need a degree from Eden to be more than comfortable in life. Most of them are there acting as proxies for their parents, to accumulate even more wealth and power, often by schmoozing with people higher up on the chain like the Desmonds.

Twilight of course is aware of the dynamics and rules of the game at Eden and is playing to win. He crafts an upper middle class cover that will fit in decently without being rich or powerful himself. He looks for a smart child. He looks for a wife. Because apparently only children with two parents can get into the school.

Throughout the whole story so far he has been concerned about his family's image, both so his cover won't be blown, and so that Anya will advance Plan A or Plan B. He is sensitive to Anya acting out of turn, like punching Damian, or falling behind academically and having no talents with which to gain extracurricular Stellas.

Back when the Imperial Scholars Mixer chapters came out (before I joined the fandom), I'm sure there was a lot of discussion about the moment Anya made her speech to Damian and said this:

The sadness around Anya not knowing whether her adoptive father even likes her dominates this chapter, at least for me. But on a second read I thought about Twilight's perspective here.

For someone who has been so worried about appearances -- making sure his family can at least pretend at cultured tastes and manners, somehow pushing Anya to get good grades or preventing her from failing (by breaking into the records room), and ensuring his own image is immaculate -- one might expect that Twilight would also worry about appearances here. His daughter just admitted to his chief target's son that she doesn't know if her father loves her. Is that not breaking the facade of a loving nuclear family, which he needed to project at the Eden admissions interview?

But, sadly, having a loving family isn't actually a requirement among the many appearances people have to keep up in the Eden crowd. Damian himself is exhibit A on that front. Both his parents hardly ever bother to visit him or talk to him, and as we see in Chapter 104, it's made him avoid going home except when none of his family members are there. From a utilitarian perspective, it may be good that Anya said this to Damian, so she could appear empathetic to his situation.

What is really interesting is that we don't get any of Twilight's inner thoughts about Anya's speech, probably because he's so focused on Donovan's arrival. All we see is an "Anya..." which could be Endo hiding any further insights on Twilight from the audience, or Twilight genuinely not knowing what to think, or Twilight turning off his over-analyzing tendencies for once and even forgetting to worry about appearances, because his daughter really got to him with that speech. If the latter is true, it might explain his behavior during the cruise arc where he tries so hard to please Anya, with the whole "I'm a normal father. A good father," piece. Bit by bit, he starts to care about more than just appearances or outcomes, and shows through his actions that he wants Anya to be happy. He doesn't tell himself that her happiness is for the cover or for the mission as often as before.

I really do hope that in some future chapter we get a callback to this scene in Chapter 37 where Anya was uncertain whether her father likes her. After 103, where we even got a brief flashback to their first day out as a family overlooking the shopping street, I feel a bit more hope that at some point Twilight will give Anya the reassurance she needs directly or indirectly.

Or maybe, Anya has already figured it out, from all the things he's done for her and how his behavior has changed gradually since that day in the courtyard.

[actualmermaid]

It's been three months since I made this post about Saints Sergius and Bacchus, John Boswell, classical Western homoeroticism, and Christian homophobia.

Since then I have read both of Boswell's books on the history of gay/queer people in premodern Christianity (Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality and Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe), familiarized myself more fully with the spectrum of charges against Boswell and his scholarship, and realized that he's been the subject of ideologically-motivated smear campaigns by just about every political/religious/academic faction you can imagine. My conclusion: Professor Boswell is a saint, martyr, and important queer elder who does not get the respect that he deserves, and I'm in awe of the sheer volume of the massive genius brain that was somehow crammed into his little blond head.

ANYWAY. This is an official followup to my original post, now that I've read Boswell's work.

I take back my hunch that Boswell's work was not intersectional. He was, in fact, a pioneer in the field of medieval social history, and utilized a wide range of critical lenses in his work. He was inhibited by the lack of documented evidence about some groups (for example, he was frequently criticized for not writing more about lesbians, but he was open about the difficulties of researching lesbians in history and explained what he was doing as a scholar and as a teacher to mitigate this) but he constantly called attention to issues of class, gender, and other social factors wherever they were relevant.

I was RIGHT in noticing that the slight difference in rank between Sergius and Bacchus seems to be an erastes/eromenos indicator! Boswell spoke at greater length and with greater sensitivity about erastes/eromenos dynamics in history, so if you want a deeper look into that, you should read his books.

I was also probably right in noticing that the legend of Sergius and Bacchus is seeded with various forms of Byzantine propaganda! I really wish that I could talk to him about it. :(

Both secular queer theorists and religious queer theologians seem to be most uncomfortable with the fact that Boswell was reporting on historical facts and observable social forces, not idealized concepts of queer people as somehow being more ethical or spiritual than the straight majority. He included evidence of things like abuse, prostitution, and exploitation not because he thought they were cool, but because they were part of the material reality of queer people's existence in the past, just like they were part of the material reality of his own 70s-80s gay subculture.

That was his bottom line: gay/queer people are a normal human variation, and as a historian, he could provide hard proof of their existence and what their lives might have been like. If his work seems "shallow" or "dated" to some more modern queer researchers, it's only because so many people were willing to dismiss his scholarship, reject his work, and abandon his research leads after he died. But, he was actually super smart and his scholarship was actually meticulous, so even his most dedicated critics have been unable to "debunk" him. Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality most recently had a 35th-anniversary reprinting, and he is still being cited as an authority by more recent scholars.

Even though the full strength of the Church and the Academy were leveled against him, his work has proven its own worth. He still deserves to be read and discussed by both professional scholars and enthusiastic hobbyists. And, the Open and Affirming movement in Christianity wouldn't be as strong as it is without his confirmation that "gays and lesbians are normal," as he put it, and not simply a construct of modern society.

Rest in power, Professor Boswell. We won't forget you.

Since I made that post, I have also opened a sticker shop with a bunch of queer Christian saint icons, including Boswell and some of the queer saints he discovered/wrote about. They're pretty cool. You should buy one.

[mochidoodle]

I am so dearly in love with your Royal Guard AU, and your most recent art just reignited my passion for both this specific au and SxF as a whole since the first season ended, and the manga chapters having a slower pace of release.

Would Sylvia be Loid's royal retainer? His chief advisor?

And in your AU, if there are such things as different schools and scholars of magic, what spellcraft would Yuri study in?

Also, Anya is just deadly adorable is a teeny tiny Forest Imp.

Ahh I'm so glad you enjoy it!! To answer your questions...

Sylvia is a renowned and respected scholar. She tutors Prince Loid in history and governance, while other known WISE agents from the series (such as the old mustache man we often see, or Loid's recruiter from the manga) are his etiquette and swordsmanship tutors. Sylvia will eventually rise to be his chief advisor when Loid succeeds his father.

Speaking of his father, I imagine the king to have the same personality as Loid's father in the manga — cold and unsympathetic; focused on matters of war. Loid's mother, the queen, passed away when he was a child. As a result, Loid ends up confiding a lot in his older sister figure, Sylvia, although she does get quite strict with his lessons and he often sneaks away into town. This is where he meets Yor the Barmaid while posing as Loid the Definitely Not a Prince.

✨✨✨✨✨

Yuri would be a mage-in-training at the elite magic academy, Eden. Since magic is very prevalent in this AU, it's not farfetched to say that most education will include the basics of magecraft. However, Eden produces cream of the crop scholars who feed into King Forger's war machine against their neighboring rival, Ostania.

Yuri is personally interested in communication and intelligence runes. Although in this AU he is on the side of Westalis, his research and snoopy personality will get him into trouble with the Ostanian underworld. He and Yor will discover they have ties to the Ostanian dark mage association, The Garden, which will begin driving a rift between the siblings as it pits loyalty to their blood against their loyalty to the Westalian crown.

Briar family backstory: Their parents were Garden defectors who fled to Westalis and attempted to raise their children as a normal family. The Shopkeeper killed them, but not before they successfully sent Yor/Yuri away to a big city orphanage, where they blended in with the countless orphans of war. (Side note: this is also why Yor is unwilling to let Anya go without a family again.) Things will pick up in the current timeline when the Shopkeeper returns to tie up loose ends...

✨✨✨✨✨

And finally, Anya, our little forest imp! She is a rare type of forest imp, even amongst those of her kind, prized for her ability to read minds. Unfortunately, mythical beings like sprites, spirits, fairies, and imps have been hunted for their body parts to create powerful elixirs and magic weapons. Gruesomely driven to extinction by the West-East wars, Anya is one of the last of her kind, and Loid/Yor do their utmost to keep her hidden from military research groups.

And guess who is the son of the president of Westalis Military Mage Tech? Damian Desmond. 🙃

[foxwitchaine]

Bright Heavens Institute - A TWST Fan Game

So, it's been a while since I last made the announcement that I was doing a TWST fan game. Has it already been over seven months? Wow, time flies. Unfortunately, due to outside circumstances, I'll be taking the Patreon page down. I'm bummed, yeah, but it's not like it wasn't a learning experience in itself. If anything, I learned I had to plan it out a little better than I did, the fan game itself included.

This does not mean the game is being canceled. Oh, no. Far from it. I'm simply taking some time to reorganize my thoughts, establish a skeleton, and figure out where to go from there. I'll be six feet below the ground before I even think about cancelling this game, and even then I'll find a way to become a ghost and finish it. I'll be nice and share the post I made for those who didn't get to see it, though.

Copied from original Patreon post, with references to Patreon removed:

Hello hello! Fox Witch Aine/Aine Hayes, here. This is a solo project I am working on aside from Miraculous Ladybug, Genshin Impact, and Honkai: Star Rail. It is an entirely nonprofit project done solely out of passion and not for monetary gain. Not like I can even get away with that, with how draconian Disney is about their IPs.

But!

It would actually be pretty nice to share and stoke excitement for this project, as it's become near and dear to my heart. It would mean so much to me if word got out that there's a Twisted Wonderland fan game with an original soundtrack, beautiful Live2D models done in the style of the main game with gorgeous original designs, and a compelling story featuring seven playable characters.

That's right. Seven playable characters. While the game's writing is still in the planning phase (I've since constructed a working plot skeleton), I have a solid idea of the overall plot progression and the personalities of all 30+ girls attending this school.

Did I say "girls" and "school" in the same sentence? I did.

In fact, this entire project is set in a fanmade school called Bright Heavens Institute, featuring all-new original characters aside from the boys and teachers at Night Raven College, Royal Sword Academy, and Noble Bell College. Just like the aforementioned school, Bright Heavens Institute is a magic school. But a school with an all-female student body. The girls are all weird and wonderful and I love them so much. 

The lore of the school goes like this (subject to change in final game):

Bright Heavens Institute was founded by the Queen of the Deep, who worked with a scholar from the surface world to fight back against a mercenary who dared to desecrate her people's way of life.  By fusing with the Abyss Crystal (I gotta come up with a better name some time), the Queen of the Deep harnessed its power to save her people from a volcanic eruption. To honor her memory, the school's founders erected a statue of her and continue her teachings to this day.

Easy enough to understand, I hope.

Just like Night Raven College, the school is separated into seven dorms:

Floraspina - the cottagecore dorm. Based on Bambi, the girls in this dorm are mostly woodland beastwomen. But be warned. They may seem delicate and lovely, but they are not to be trifled with. Every rose has its thorns, after all, and these girls are the very embodiment of that saying.

Vermewilde - the Amazon dorm. Based on Tarzan, the girls in this dorm are an even mix of humans and jungle beastwomen. It is essentially the female equivalent of Savanaclaw, with a heavy focus on sports. Their star athlete Taraji Chalo is also the captain of the school's Spelldrive team.

Sireciel - the pirate dorm. Based on Peter Pan, the girls in this dorm embody the strength, beauty, and spirit of the open sea. There are humans, mermaids, and Fae in this dorm. While the housewarden has an intense focus on propriety and manners, the confidence of these girls is second to none.

Phaluverie - the dream dorm. Based on Winnie the Pooh, the girls in this dorm are a bit spacey. But just like Floraspina, they're not to be underestimated. They have a longstanding rivalry with Octavinelle due to beating a past housewarden in an interschool academics match. The grudge is still carried to this day.

Lanekema - the nerd and geek dorm. Based on Lilo & Stitch, the girls in this dorm focus on engineering and technology. It is essentially the female equivalent of Ignihyde with a Hawaiian theme. While they do collaborate with Ignihyde a lot, there's a noticeable tension between the housewarden and her vice housewarden.

Hypnocreux - the goth dorm. Based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, the girls in this dorm are quite spooky. Nonetheless, under the leadership of their current housewarden, their magical prowess is nothing to sneeze at. Count on them to know the ins and outs of potionology and poisons.

Magigranda - the diva dorm. Based on the Fantasia shorts, the girls in this dorm are the cream of the crop in Bright Heavens Institute. Populated by Fae, half-Fae, and humans, they are the female equivalent of Diasomnia. It helps that their housewarden, a diurnal swan Fae, is engaged to Malleus Draconia himself. That's not to say there aren't dissenters, though...

As you all can see, I have high hopes for the outcome of this project. I'm not expecting it to blow sky-high in popularity, but it would mean a lot if word got out that there is a Twisted Wonderland fan game in the works made completely for free. I'm expecting at least a two-to-three year production time. It's already been in planning since... early 2022, at least. I know for sure I will be releasing the project entirely for free once it is done.

Yes. Free. A fan game with gorgeous graphics and music will be published for download entirely for free. The OST will be released for free on Bandcamp (where you can download the songs) and YouTube (where you can listen for free without downloading), there will be livestreams where you can hang out while I work on the project (once I finish setting everything up). And I will accept feedback and critique if people have something to add to make this even better. I look forward to seeing where this will take me once I can put more focus on it.

Thank you for staying with me for this long. Until next time.

Tagging my mutuals: @neoninky, @animemimi1141

[lady-charinette]

Breached containment out of discord but-

I HAVE TO SCREAM ABOUT IT NOW: what if Eden isn't as innocent a school as it tries to present itself? What if, by becoming the top imperial scholars in Eden with the most stellas, instead of going to other schools and colleges and furthering their education, Eden Academy sends those students to a facility far removed from civilization.

It's a facility where Project Apple breaks in their new test subjects. It's for the older kids. For the imperial scholars who showed most promise and potential.

Other theory tied into this:

What if, since Donovan used to be an imperial scholar, he got involved with Project Apple at some point in his past? Hence the surgical scars around his head? What if they experimented on him more extensively due to his high achievements in Eden?

If Melinda was somehow connected to Project Apple, either her father being a benefactor or even a scientist, she could've met Donovan there. Or their marriage was not only a political marriage but one of convenience for Melinda: as a woman in that time period, she possessed immense diplomatic and political skills to impact Ostania and Westalis on a greater scale, but not the same opportunities as a man.

So they use Donovan, their number 1 test subject. They combine both of their abilities and in their marriage to control the political climate in the country.

What if the reason why we don't see Demetrius is because he's currently being experimented on by Project Apple after he became an imperial scholar? What if the reason why a couple stuck in a loveless marriage like Melinda and Donovan had two children to see if their talents would naturally merge in them, as a social experiment for Project Apple? To create a "Übermensch"?

Ostania and Westalis remind of communist Germany during the cold war era. The SS is obviously the Stasi, the Stasi and the Gestapo of Nazi Germany often used much of the same intimidation tactics as the other, who's to say they also didn't adopt the Nazi ideology of creating a "super human" aka "Übermensch"?

In Spy x Family, wouldn't a possible goal of Project Apple be creating super humans? Or at least humans with supernatural powers that could turn the tides of the war in either country's favor?

Am I tripping?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Ally: Thatch , Teacher of the Heath

A marvellous mage outstanding in their field

Every group of heroes needs a sage to clue them in about their place in the wider campaign world and to set them on the correct path. For those too far from the big cities and their ivory towers, there’s rumours of a strange figure who dwells in a nearby village, a tutor made of sticks and straw who instructs children their letters between farm chores, and has an uncanny ability to predict the seasons. This construct is named Thatch, and they have been blessed with a mind that is seemingly all knowing.

Hooks:

Thatch is first and foremost a teacher, and while they’re happy to dispense fun facts and tidbits of information to anyone who asks, the party may need to ready themselves for some lessons if they want REAL lore. Perhaps the scarecrow will drag them to a disused farmstead and match them with chores they are most unsuited for, questioning them endlessly on their ethos while exhaustion and failure wear them down. Perhaps Thatch will send them on some strange errand, quizzing them when they return about all the choices they made and the perspectives of those involved. 

Players Might encounter Thatch at the local county fair, confusing them atfirst for a decoration or costumed attendant. The patchwork teacher was minding a few children for the night but the youngsters seem to have snuck off on them. Tracking the youngsters down gives the party a great excuse to scout out all the fun distractions later in that evening ( or to get the topography when the festivities are ambushed).

Background: Onceupon a time there was a farmgirl who dreamed of being a wizard. She had heard the stories about those great scholars who worked wonders and knew the secret names of all things. She was born with a curiosity about the world that she felt down to her bones, an ache that grew worse every year she attended the same country school that’d been teaching the same old lessons out of the same old books for what must’ve been generations.  Every year her parents, who loved her but had no money to send her off to some academy would buy her a journal for her birthday, a journal she’d fill up with questions in a few months and be forced to write in the margins to save space. 

Such an earnest desire for knowledge became a prayer, and that prayer was heard by the goddess Ioun, the knowing mistress, who loves all who wish to learn and sent a spark of divine kindness out into the world to give that farmgirl the teacher she deserved.  That spark took residence in a scarecrow and so Thatch was born, head stuffed with straw and cosmic wisdom , heart overflowing with a teacher’s love and desire to see their student thrive.

Further Adventures:

That first student’s name was Oroteia, and under Thatch’s tutelage she became a great mage, venturing out into the world to find the answers her younger self so craved.  Perhaps they’ll encounter her seeking out some forgotten library, ensconced in some great work of magic, or maybe she’s gone so far that they’ll need to break into her sanctum if they have any hopes of obtaining the aid of a powerful mage.

It has been many years since Thatch stirred to being, many children come and gone, their first student having long grown in to her own power as a mage and capable of finding her own way in the world. Thatch can feel themself unravelling, the blessing of Ioun coming loose from their cobbled frame. Perhaps they will fade into nothing, perhaps they will return to be part of the goddess and share with her all they have learned, perhaps the need will be great and they will burn themselves up saving their students, or lighting the way for the party to accomplish their great quest. Thatch is at peace with this, but Oroteia won’t have it and ever since her last visit years ago has spent all her energy devoted to saving her old teacher, delving into sorts of magic that perhaps she should not.

[slavonicrhapsody]

Hello there huge fan of your blog and wasnted to get your thoughts on something, if that's ok! In one of the glintstone sorceries' descriptions there's a quote that goes "the moon and the stars will be together no more" hinting at why Rennala and the academy had a falling out. This led me to wondering about the title of Radahn, Starscourge. Is it possible that Radahn went into gravity magic not just bc of Leonard but bc of wanting to control the stars, the power of his mother's enemies? Thank you in advance!

Hello! Yes, I’ve definitely had the thought that Radahn might have had some beef with the glintstone sorcerers… but first, I think there are a ton of layers to this question to pick apart. WARNING: this became extremely long and meandering and I ended up answering several questions that have nothing to do with your question at all. SORRY! I hope it’s still interesting.

Anyway, as you say, the description of Carian retaliation reads,

“One of the sorceries of the Carian royal family. Swing your staff to dispel incoming sorceries and incantations, using their power to retaliate with glintblades. This was the Carian royal family's secret means to prepare against the disloyalty of the academy. The moon and stars would one day go their separate ways.”

The Carians were prepared for the event of the Academy rebelling against them… perhaps the Carian astrologers predicted this fate within the stars, or perhaps they knew not everyone at the Academy embraced Rennala’s teachings. The Lazuli Conspectus robe description also portrays the moon and stars as being two separate factions within the Academy: “Robe worn by scholars of the Lazuli Conspectus, singular among the greater Raya Lucaria Academy. These scholars, who sought to master Carian sorcery, instead learned to see the moon as equal to the stars. This robe, in the hue of the full moon, signifies their heresy.” The word “heresy” implies that other glintstone sorcerers of the Academy still viewed the stars as supreme even while Rennala was in charge.

Perhaps the biggest controversy between the Carians and the Academy was the matter of the primeval current sorcerers. Sellen tells us that Azur, Lusat, and herself were banished from the Academy “for attempting to restore the primeval current of glintstone sorcery.” She goes on to say, “The toothless pedantry peddled by the Carian royal family can rot for all I care. I want glintstone sorceries that open our minds, unbound by terrestrial taboos.” As we later find out, Sellen had been turning sorcerers into a Graven Masses which are “seeds of stars” created by primeval current sorcerers, and they became “a nightmare that would continue to haunt the academy.” According to the Graven Mass talisman, “The primeval current is a forbidden tradition of glintstone sorcery. To those who cleave to its teachings, the act of collecting sorcerers to fashion them into the seeds of stars is but another path of scientific inquiry.” It can be inferred that the primeval current sorcerers were expelled from the Academy under the leadership of Rennala because they were using other sorcerers in their grotesque experiments (Could Rennala have also used this as a perfect opportunity to solidify her hold on the Academy and eliminate sorcerers who didn’t agree with her leadership? Maybe!).

Now, what I believe connects this matter to Radahn specifically is two details. The first is Lusat’s imprisonment. Sellen tells us that after his banishment from the Academy, Lusat “languishes, imprisoned somewhere” and gives us a glintstone key that will let us cross the barrier “that keeps Master Lusat confined.” Later, she tells us that she heard Lusat had returned to Sellia, his home, after his banishment, and that she got the glinstone key off of a Sellian sorcerer. What this tells me is that after returning home to Sellia, Lusat was not welcomed, but imprisoned by the sorcerers there, his staff taken away... which means that the sorcerers in Sellia probably heard of Lusat’s crimes, and by imprisoning him are siding with the Carian royal family. We know that a young Radahn came to Sellia to study gravity sorceries from the Remembrance of the Starscourge, and from a Caelid sword monument, that “Radahn alone holds Sellia secure, and stands tall, to shatter the stars.” All of this points to some kind of relationship between Sellia and the Carian royals, and a hostility towards the primeval current sorcerers.

The second detail connecting the Carian-primeval current feud to Radahn is Jerren’s mission. Jerren is essentially Radahn’s right hand man. According to Iji, Jerren had made “an old promise” to get rid of “a longstanding Carian weed.” After Radahn is granted an honorable death, Jerren is now able to leave Redmane Castle to hunt down Sellen, a longtime thorn in the Carians’ side. Jerren came to serve Radahn “after spending time as a guest of the Carian royals,” and is loyal to the family through and through. Jerren was probably distracted from the goal of getting rid of Sellen when he and Radahn fought in the Shattering war, but I wonder if in the past, Radahn had also viewed Sellen as a personal enemy?

Since Radahn seems to be surrounded by people who oppose the sorcerers of the primeval current and uphold the decrees of the Carian royals, it makes sense for him to have felt this way himself. Did this influence his decision to challenge the stars, though? It’s possible, but I have two caveats toward the idea that he wanted to seize the power of his family’s enemies: one, even though the “moon and stars” are often positioned as two separate factions, the stars are still the origin of all glintstone sorcery, and the stars also “alter the fate of the Carian royal family,” who were not just sorcerers but astrologers — those who study fate within the stars… so the stars are still quite important to the Carians, and Radahn would know this. Two, it’s kind of unclear to me how halting the stars’ movement might have hindered the primeval sorcerers from achieving their goals… Sellen never seems to consider this to be a problem for her, only mentioning the halting of the stars when asked about Ranni’s destiny:

“The stars alter the fate of the Carian royal family. And the fate of your mistress, Ranni. But long ago, General Radahn challenged the swirling constellations, and in a crushing victory, arrested their cycles. Now, he is the force that repulses the stars. If General Radahn were to die, the stars would resume their movement. And so, too, would Ranni's destiny.”

Sellen doesn’t seem particularly personally inconvenienced by the stars being frozen, and in fact, the stars resuming their movement actually threatens her life: Iji says that “a certain sorceress has been dispossessed of her immortality,” and Sellen says that “A star has fallen, and my fortunes waver. someone may come for my life.” I think what this might mean is that back in the day, Sellen divined her fate by reading the stars (possibly with the help of Seluvis, since this was his official job, and we know he also helped her make a new body?), and she saw her own death… and now the only thing keeping her fate from coming to pass is the fact that the stars aren’t moving, so she’s functionally immortal. But that’s beside the point.

To understand Sellen’s goals, let’s look at what the primeval current actually is and consider the goals of the primeval sorcerers. The Founding Rain of Stars sorcery reads,

“The eldest primeval sorcery, said to have been discovered by an ancient astrologer. A sorcery of legendary status. […] Thought to be the founding glintstone sorcery. The glimpse of the primeval current that the astrologer saw became real, and the stars' amber rained down on this land.”

Sellen explains to us that the “stars’ amber” is glintstone:

“Our powers draw upon the powers embedded in glintstone, but what is the nature of such power? Glintstone is the amber of the cosmos; golden amber contains the remnants of ancient life and houses its vitality, while glintstone contains residual life. And thus, the vitality of the stars. It should not be forgotten that glintstone sorcery is the study of the stars and the life therein.”

The primeval current is the source of all glintstone and all glintstone sorcery. The last line can also be read as a dig at Rennala and her lunar magic. We know Sellen intends to “restore” and “hone” the primeval current, and with Azur and Lusat’s bodies to help her, “we, fallen children of the stars, shall beam with brilliance once again.” But what does Sellen mean by this? Why must the primeval current be “restored”? I have absolutely no idea. But what I can say is that primeval current sorcerers create graven masses in order to form “seeds of stars.” Azur and Lusat’s bodies, which Sellen needs to hone the primeval current, are near inorganic, turned into glintstone, each of them “nigh a child of the stars.” Then, Sellen’s quest culminates in her becoming part of a graven mass herself. It seems that the primeval current sorcerers are taking the idea of the inherent life within stars, and are attempting to BECOME stars themselves in order to become a part of or expand the primeval current… although this doesn’t seem to work out for Sellen in the end.

Anyway, all of this is to say that there’s heaps of evidence showing how the movement of the stars affects fortune and fate and the practice of astrology, but there doesn’t seem to be any direct evidence of an effect on the primeval current. It’s still possible that Radahn’s actions could have hindered the primeval current in some way, but I just can’t find any dialogue that suggests this. Of course, Radahn could have simply thought that halting the stars might thwart the primeval current sorcerers and in reality he ended up shooting his own family in the foot, but that’s pure speculation. If this were true, it would certainly be poetic! Personally, I still think Radahn’s reasons had much to do with Sellia and wanting to prove himself a hero, but I absolutely see merit to this idea.

[subzeroparade]

what little you've posted of your tarnished oc really interests me! if you'd like, and if comfortable, could you share a little bit more about his lore + his connection to the ancestral followers? what motivated him to join them (other than death, as tagged in one of your posts) and why was it such an ultimatum?

Thank you anon (and sorry for my late response, shit is crazy atm).

Kotschei is a longstanding OC of mine (by which I mean 10+ years), and in his ER iteration he’s a scholar of the Lazuli Conspectus (astrologers who argue for the preeminence of the moon over the stars) and a faithful servant of Carian interests in the Academy. He’s also neither a fighter nor a terribly talented mage, which means he flees in the pseudo-counter-reformation we know happens when the other Conspectuses (all glintstone purists) wrest power from the Carians, depose Rennala, and reassert the Academy’s doctrinal position (as deferent to the authority of the stars).  His brush with the Ancestral Followers is really accidental - they don’t quite speak the same language, they have no written histories, and to a scholar of the Academy (and not a historian) they’ve never seemed more than a race of brutish non-believers. They are openly scornful of the Academy’s petty factional arguments about the moon and stars, immutable, true things that to them are fixed and unchanging rather than questions to be debated. By the Siofra riverbanks the moon’s face is obscured, and they take pity on Kotschei for it. On encountering the Ancestral Spirit, its magic astounds him: it decays and flourishes at once, dying and returning to the earth and living again, nature in service to it. He learns that Ancestral magic has no link to the stars or the moon, nor the black currents of deathblight or the gruesome way the Golden Order has made a farce of immortality.

So in his little bubble of woe is me I am a sinner on all fronts betraying the moon, he trades his own magic for Ancestral learning. He’s also a floppy little glass cannon, so getting skewered by their arrows and later watching them shoot is how he manages a degree of mastery over Loretta’s Greatbow. The Shining Horned Headband he wears for the rest of the game is one he fashioned himself, observing their techniques - on the branching antlers, alongside the flourishing buds, he grafts Carian blue glintstone shards. This is in part to channel their power, and in part because when he returns to Liurnia, shamanic regalia is an improbable disguise for an excommunicated mage. 

I don’t usually write extensively or lore dump about my OCs in particular, but I appreciate the ask (it's timely, since he will appear in the @gracedbygold Tarnished-centric zine). In the end I enjoyed beefing up his backstory enough that I turned any prospective lore-dump into a ficlet, which goes into a little more detail on how he got to where he’s going (from runaway mage to pledging himself to Ranni, first as a servant and eventually as potential consort). It’s not done yet, but here is a snippet:

“I see you look at me, Master Scholar, and I invite you to look closer.”  She spreads all four hands, though the gesture fails to be inviting. “You know what I am. I have lost my Empyrean body, and with it, some manner of power over the order of things. The Fingers, and the Greater Will by extension, have branded me their enemy. Dethroned, the academy has abandoned my royal house. I can muster no army. Many who would be my subjects think me dead. My kin have become rivals, trapped or compelled by their own machinations for power. I am a soul in a loosely-bound collection of porcelain limbs, and my only ally is the distant, mercurial Moon.” She leans forward. “Are you so unimaginative as to be bound by duty? This is not the winning side.”  A fine scholar’s argument, I want to tell her. We are not imaginative. We want to know the world, not guess at it. You cannot stand before your peers and imagine possibilities. You argue for truths, for once something is written down, there is security in certitude. Glintstone is a hard and cold discipline - improbable, I know, given the wobbling bodies and fragile egos who master it. For all our formulae and suppositions and mastery of cosmic principles, we mostly cast light and fling rocks. These are the things we are certain of.  The interesting part is guesswork, which, by virtue of its incertitude, means it’s not really scholarship. For all my learning, it’s no more than a series of lucky guesses that have delivered me here, before the last true daughter of the Moon.  “I reason,” I say at length, “that you can still inherit the world.”

[aubdrewanchel]

Forget about Harry Potter. I want to know what course would you take in Royal Academy (assuming u can choose)

(Pool at the end)

Scholars

- procrastinators (unless it's something they find interesting)

- probably has adhd and/or autism

- burn out kids

- will stay up till 3am to research a random topic

- daydreams a lot

- love coffee/energy drinks

- has atleast 2-3 hyperfixation all the time

Knight

- the hyperactive kids

- favourite subject is PE (no shit)

- will brag about their fav sport

- loves watching sports on tv

- VERY competitive

- probably hate math

- carefree spirit

- probably have a healthy lifestyle(?)

Attendant

- the perfectionists

- very anxious

- has millions of backup plans

- adapts easily

- overthinkers

- I feel like they like tea a lot

- very polite

(- the parent of the friend group)

- "actors without a stage"

Archdukes

- the overachievers

- has to have perfect scores and attendance

- the "heroes"

- highly ambitious and competitive

- will sacrifice anything for their plans to work out

- people pleasers(?)

- the best at controlling their emotions

- of course (natural) leaders and/or want to be in power

[seiya-starsniper]

Fern - in a world of magic, the greatest miracle was you

For Dreamling? ❤️

JANNNIIIII this one really got away from me, but I hope you like it!

Flower Prompt Game!

---------------------------

In another universe, Dream of the Endless does not meet Robert Gadling in a run down pub, does not offer him immortality in exchange for nothing more than a once a century meeting. He does not walk the Waking World with his sister Death, but instead visits her realm for their weekly afternoon tea. 

In this universe, Robert Gadling has made his own immortality in a world where magic never left. He is still a soldier for hire, a mercenary, an assassin where absolutely needed. He has no particularly strong magic of his own. But his skill with the blade, and his loyalty to those he serves earns him a name, and eventually, a favor. He becomes immortal on the night where the twin moons meet from across the sky, when the ensuing eclipse grants the Mad Witch Henreitta Reynolds the power to seal his soul from Death herself. Death notices the ritual and does not intervene, for she is too busy entertaining her brother’s latest stories. 

Dream and Robert Gadling do not meet in this century, nor the next. Or the one after that.

But in all universes, Dream of the Endless is still captured by Roderick Burgess. Roderick Burgess will still take and take and take, but he will still fail to bring his fallen son (not a soldier this time, but a scholar, lost to a dragon attack at his academy). He will pin all his future hopes on his second, less remarkable son, Alex. Alex, desperate to please his father, will perform a ritual far outside his skill level, and it will result in Dream’s freedom, and the death of everyone else on the estate. 

But Dream’s power is a fickle thing, too long have his tools been separated from him, and he does not even have enough power to call himself home. And so, naked, alone, and unable to return to the realm of dreams, Dream of the Endless walks barefoot towards the nearest village, seeking asylum.

In this universe, Dream of the Endless and Robert Gadling meet for the first time when the former collapses at the latter’s feet. Robert, having felt the tremors of the explosion from the Burgess estate, had run towards the carnage, instead of away, looking for survivors. He finds one, and whisks him away back to his cottage by the sea. 

For three days, Robert Gadling would nurse Dream back to health. Dream would stay silent the entirety of those days, would refuse to make eye contact with his caregiver, too mistrustful of humans after having spent a century imprisoned by them. But Hob asks him no questions, does not push him to provide gifts he cannot give. He himself simply gives, and gives, and gives. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” Dream declares to him the night he feels enough of his power return to him. Robert only smiles back at him, charmed.

“I figured as much,” the immortal replies easily. “Hadn’t dreamed a lick in the last hundred years until the night I rescued you.”

This declaration is startling, but only the slightest bit. Dream had known he was not dealing with no ordinary man. He could smell the heavy cloak of magic on the man’s skin, and yet, none of that magic seemed innate. Robert Gadling had no remarkable magical talent of his own, and yet, he had earned the favor of some of the most powerful magic users in the realm. It was only natural he would have known of Dream’s true nature, and yet he chose to help him anyways.

“Your care has allowed me time to heal, Robert Gadling,” Dream continues, ignoring the thrill the realization alights from deep within him. “I would grant you a boon for your troubles.”

Robert only shrugs. “Call me Hob, first off,” he says, waving him off. “And I don’t need anything from you.”

After a century of being asked for gifts he was unable or unwilling to give, the casual indifference of the man’s dismissal rankles Dream. It is almost insulting. 

“Surely there is something every mortal wants,” Dream insists. “You are already immortal, yes I can sense the magic,” he adds when Hob startles at the statement. “I am still weak from my imprisonment, but I can promise you wealth, power, the ability to inspire all dreamers. What is it your heart desires?”

“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing,” Hob replies, almost vehemently. “I did not save you expecting a boon.”

“I cannot leave a debt unpaid, Hob,” Dream growls, growing impatient. He wishes to return to his realm but he cannot leave before the boon has been granted. His pride will not allow it. “There must be something you wish of me.”

Hob then meets his eyes, ready to argue once more, but then Dream catches a glimpse of the man’s dreams. He sees himself pinned underneath Hob’s broader body, feels the immortal’s lips ghosting along his skin, teeth grazing at his thighs, and hands pressed firmly against his body. Hob realizes almost immediately what Dream has seen and turns away, his face flushed scarlet with embarrassment and humiliation.

“I would not ask that of you,” Hob murmurs. “It is not honorable.”

Dream smirks, and closes the distance between them. Hob does not move, but Dream can hear his heartbeat intensify, can smell the arousal wafting from every pore in his body. It is intoxicating, to be desired so much. It has been too long since Dream has been wanted in such a way. 

“I do not leave a debt unpaid, Hob Gadling,” Dream murmurs against the man’s ear. “But you will have to work to truly pleasure the King of Dreams. Are you prepared to accept that challenge?”

Hob does. He rises to the occasion beautifully. 

When their coupling is complete, Hob Gadling swears fealty to only Dream, makes grandiose promises to be his knight until the end of time. Dream laughs, and accepts. He has always been a greedy creature, and he wants this man for his own, and only his. 

Hob helps Dream track down his tools of office, and when Dream is returned to full power, he grants Hob a place of honor as his knight, and his official emissary between the Waking and the Dreaming. In the night, he steals away his lover to his private chambers, where they bring each other untold pleasure that the rest of the realm feels for eons after.

“You are a marvel my dear heart,” Dream says to him one day, apropos of nothing. “In a world full of boundless magic and power, the greatest miracle to happen to me was meeting you.” 

Hob kisses him gently, still charmed and deeply in love even after thousands of years. “I think you’re the miracle, love,” he chuckles. “I’m just the lucky bastard who gets to love you.”