#so um. still my legacy i guess.

[lovely-v]

i want to write a cookbook fic but the only problem is i'm famous for not having known how to make grilled cheese before reading it in a kiribaku fic. so needless to say i dont rly know how to cook

[laufire]

I listened to "Batman: The Lazarus Syndrome" for the second time; it's an audio drama from 1989 and here are some Jason mentions in it that make me want to chew glass:

Barbara: I could try to tap into his computer... it may still have my voice print on file, unless he trashed it when the Joker put me in this chair Gordon: Now Batman may seem a cold-hearted son of a gun, but I don't think he'd ever erase Batgirl from his files. Barbara (whispering): Yeah, I wonder... he's tried hard enough to forget Jason.

//

Dick: Jason's left him a hell of a legacy. First he throws himself into his work with a suicidal intensity, and now he's- he's planning to quit? Alfred: Um, Master Dick... Nobody knows that anything has happened to Robin. You know- I often think back to the sight of you both leaving to go on patrol- Dick: No! Never again! Alfred: He always seemed happier with you... Dick: Things are different now. I can't make this a fairy tale with a happy ending. Even if I came back, would that wipe away the pain of what happened to Jason? I can't change what's happened, and now that I've got my independence, I'm not sure I want to.

//

Bruce: Happiness isn't what I seek. Gotham city is where I belong! Where I'm needed! Maybe Jason was the only one who really understood that. Talia: Jason? The other boy who worked with you? The second Robin? Bruce: He knew Gotham city the way I do. He was a petty thief; he used to hang around here stealing the wheels off cars. On the day I met him, he was trying to boost the tires of mine. He'd been orphaned, like me. But whereas my parents' money shielded me from starvation, he had to live by his wits. I knew if I left him here I'd find myself running him in later on for something more serious... so I took him back with me, gave him a home, trained him the way I trained Dick Grayson... seemed logical. Nobody had guessed the original Batman-Robin team split up. Once Dick left to go to college, we drifted apart. Then Jason came along. He was young, fit, eager to learn... and apt student. For a while it was as if I'd never been without a Robin. But there were undercurrents; he had a dangerous amount of aggression to work off, he became moody, resentful, reckless! I began to realize I'd made a mistake. (flashback) Alfred: I've noticed some disquieting things about Master Jason myself. The lad never mentions his parents, yet I've come across him crying over his old photographs. Being your partner is hardly the best situation for a teenager still adjusting to such a loss. Bruce: Then I must try and rectify the situation. Jason's going off active duty immediately. Jason: And I don't have a word to say about it, huh? Bruce: How long have you been hiding there, Jason? Jason: You can't be serious about this! Bruce: I am. You've got a lot of anger and pain inside of you. Jason: I can handle it. Bruce: We can work this out. Jason: You want to talk? Talk to Alfred. (end flashback) Talia: The poor child... and both parents long dead... Bruce: So I thought. But then Jason discovered that his late father had remarried. His real mother was still alive. He used the computer to track her down, and set off after her, alone. He never thought she might be involved with the Joker; never guessed it might be a trap. By the time I got to him, I'd lost him. He was beaten half to death and then blown up trying to save his mother's life. Talia: You mustn't blame yourself. Bruce: He'd still be alive to day if I'd left him where I found him! In Crime Alley... Talia: How can you say that? You saved his life, my love. You delivered him. Bruce: I delivered him- right into the hands of the Joker. I've got to pay for that.

enjoy :)))

[romaritimeharbor]

HYDRANGEAS, CH. 1. — In which Tokito [Name] is invited to join the Corps.

— series synopsis. Hydrangeas, in some cultures, have been known to symbolize apology. The Hashira Tokito [Name] has many things to apologize for, indeed.

— trigger & content warnings. minor blood.

— pairings & notes. tokito muichiro, tokito yuichiro, ubuyashiki amane, ubuyashiki kagaya, rengoku kyojuro, & reader. reader is 11 in this chapter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). 10k words.

— author's thoughts. hydrangeas is also posted on ao3!

    Snap. Snap. Snap.

    The repeated sound of splitting and snapping wood fibers, of an axe tearing through the middle of logs, was among one of the few sounds filling the air—the chirping of distant birds, the soft rustle of the breeze through blades of grass and leaves… it was quite serene, in a way. The young one responsible for cutting up spare firewood huffed, wiping away a little bit of sweat that collected at their brow before continuing; their muscles did not throb or ache, and they were quite used to completing household chores that demanded strength or endurance, but that didn’t change the fact that their task could indeed be a laborious one.

    A series of quieter snaps and the soft crunching of grass underneath the weight of someone’s footsteps drew their attention, and they stopped, turning around to face the direction that the noises had come from.

    Briefly, they had thought that their family had returned—they weren’t expecting any visitors, but they were expecting their father, mother, and little brothers to return sometime soon. However, they quickly realized that such a thing simply was not possible; had that been the case, there would have been four pairs of footsteps, but they could only discern two.

    Furthermore, when they turned around, they did not see any trace of their family. Instead, a light-haired woman and another person clad in what they guessed to be some kind of uniform stood a comfortable distance away from them., and… was that a blade? It was sheathed, and the uniform-wearing stranger did not seem keen on drawing it, but still!

    Their heart picked up speed for two reasons. One, that person had a weapon; anyone with any sense of danger would be concerned if someone armed approached them unexpectedly. Two, it was… kind of cool, actually. They knew better than to exclaim and gush about how cool that sword looked and ask about where the person had gotten it or what it was used for—was this person a martial artist? A samurai? Though, they thought that samurais no longer existed… then a shinobi, maybe? Or a former samurai?

    …Right. No. They knew better than to ask. These people were strangers. Even if that woman was practically ethereal, carrying herself with such beauty and grace that they really would not have doubted her if she said she was nobility, and that person had a very cool sword… they were still strangers.

    Of course, that didn’t mean that they needed to be unnecessarily harsh or rude. The people did not seem to have ill-intent, anyway; if they did, something surely would have happened by now.

    “Hello,” they greeted kindly, offering the two a polite smile as they set their axe down next to the pile of chopped wood. “Are you lost, miss? I can take you to the nearby village, if so.”

    “No,” she replied. “Thank you, young one, but we are not lost.”

    “Oh? Um… then…”

    It was as if she had read their mind, going on to answer their unspoken question:

    “I have come to find you.”

    “Me?” A variety of emotions flashed across their features—fear, disconcertment, unease—before finally settling on cautious curiosity. “Why?”

    Her professional, cool disposition did not falter at all. “You are the descendant of a great swordsman,” she vaguely explained, her tone smooth and almost soothing, in a way. “My duty, the purpose of my visit, is to ask if you would like to join the Demon Slayer Corps and carry on the legacy that he left behind.”

    “I… I am?”

    “Yes.”

    “I…” they trailed off, head almost spinning at the information she relayed to them and its implications, but with how earnest her expression seemed… it was hard to think that she was lying. That would explain the swordsman at her side (who had yet to say a single word and seemed to be largely on guard, constantly surveying the area for threats, ready to strike at a moment’s notice; perhaps this woman was not nobility, but she must have been important in one way or another to have such a stoic, attentive bodyguard).

    Demon Slayers—they did not doubt their existence. After all, their father often spoke of them, but it seemed so impossible. So fictional, like the kinds of stories and tales that one might tell a child to help them fall asleep.

    Yet, standing before them was a mysterious woman asking if they wanted to join them.

    “...I thought Demon Slayers were just fictional. Like— like the stories you tell little kids.”

    The uniform-clad person beside her made a noise at that. It sounded like a laugh. They were being laughed at.

    “Most people do,” she said, nodding, and the person next to her straightened up again; it was as if that person realized that maybe they shouldn’t have laughed, since it was a common misconception. “Demon Slayers are not recognized by the government. Therefore, save for the people who are already Demon Slayers and their families, most people do not believe in demons.” She stopped, but then clarified: “...But they are real, and they are an active threat.”

    “Um, would you like to have tea?” Nervously, they wrung their hands together. “I’m sorry, I… it’s a lot to take in at once, and I don’t want to force you to stand for as long as it takes to explain it to me. I think that would make me a rude host. So, um, would you like to have tea with me, miss?”

    "Very well."

    With a kind smile that seemed to waver and tremble a little bit under the intensity of the gaze of her bodyguard, they approached the woman, gingerly taking one of her hands in theirs and leading her along the path paved by frequent usage. She seemed surprised, eyes widening and calm expression faltering somewhat.

    …But then, her lips twitched upwards into the ghost of an adorning smile at the sheer innocence of their actions as she allowed herself to be led along, the Demon Slayer following close behind.

    “Oh!” They stopped, turning around to face her. “I’m so sorry, miss, I never asked for your name.”

    “That is quite alright,” she reassured, the diplomacy in her demeanor seeming to soften quite significantly as she looked down at them. “My name is Ubuyashiki Amane.”

    “I suppose I probably don’t have to introduce myself to you…”

    “No, you do not. It is a pleasure to meet you, Tokito [Name].”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    “Should I call you Lady Amane?” they wondered softly as their calloused hands carefully poured the tea into three cups—one for them, one for Amane, and one for the Demon Slayer. The person seemed surprised as they handed one cup to them, offering a quiet ‘thank you’ in response. “Or, um, Lady Ubuyashiki?”

    “Most of the Corps’ children would call me Lady Amane,” she explained, “but you do not have to, since it is just us. You may call me Mrs. Ubuyashiki or even Mrs. Amane if you wish. Truthfully, even in front of others, you may still address me a bit less formally. It is only a display of respect, and we do not demand respect from our children. It is completely up to you if you wish to refer to me formally or informally.”

    A timid smile graced their face as they gazed down at the cup clutched between their two hands. “Mrs. Ubuyashiki… if I am a descendant of a swordsman, does that mean my little brothers are as well? And one of my parents?”

    “Yes, that is correct,” Amane confirmed, “but neither my husband nor I could ask young children to make the same commitment that we are asking of you. Furthermore, we also cannot ask a father to leave his home—his wife and his children—to fight in a war that defies nature, such as this one.”

    She raised the cup to her lips, basking in and appreciating both the warmth and flavor of the tea. It was a very much welcomed courtesy after her journey to find them.

    Silence descended upon the group for a short moment.

    Their little brothers, the twins… they were only four. She was indeed correct; they barely knew right from wrong at that age. It was far too young, and to ask their father to abandon his wife and little children would be deeply insensitive. She was right.

    Perhaps…

    Perhaps they really were the only viable candidate among their family at the moment.

    Before they could speak, Amane did.

    “Please understand that this is your choice,” she said. “We will not hold it against you if you say no. It is a difficult burden to bear. There are not many people who are suited for it, and there is no shame in being unsuited to carry such a weight on your shoulders.”

    “I understand,” they reassured, gnawing on the corner of their lip thoughtfully. “If… If I were to join the Demon Slayer Corps, what would that mean? What would happen?”

    Amane hummed thoughtfully. It was a valid question, and one that she had to answer very wisely.

    “If you were to join the Corps,” she began, “it would mean that you lose the promise of a tomorrow.”

    “I don’t think anyone is promised a tomorrow,” they cut in. “I mean, there is no way of knowing if we’ll really wake up tomorrow morning, is there? That’s why you have to cherish the moment while you’re in it, and be kind without reservation.”

    “...You’re right, little one. No-one who walks this world is promised a tomorrow. The members of the Corps have a very special understanding of this. If you join, you must understand that you could die at any given time, but it seems you already know this.”

    “My father taught me that. We don’t live very long, so we should make the most of it.”

    She smiled. They could not help but mirror it.

    “He was right.” She then continued, “Given that you understand this idea, I do not feel the need to emphasize it any longer. You asked what would happen, what it would mean to join… it would mean joining a war. You are welcome to leave at any time, but most do not. Many spend their entire lives fighting off demons to keep other people safe.”

    “I would be protecting others.”

    “Yes.”

    “So…” They met her gaze; there was a kind of wisdom in their young eyes, and it astounded her a bit. “Even though I would be leaving my family for who knows how long, I would get to protect them. To lower the chance that a demon might wander into our home and… and unjustly end our lives. If I joined the Corps, we wouldn’t be defenseless…”

    Demons were an invisible threat—a threat that they did not know existed, but one that they were now acutely aware of, and one that they would not be able to forget now that it had been revealed to them.

    “Yes.”

    “I could protect innocent lives.”

    “You could, indeed, but there is another thing you must be aware of: to join the Corps, you must train for and then survive a week-long event on a demon-infested mountain. Many people train for at least two years before this event, but some… well, some train for a much shorter amount of time and still survive. It will depend on you and your specific abilities.”

    "I see," they murmured softly, allowing the information to sink in. They stared into the swirling green tea in their cup.

    They were only eleven, soon to turn twelve. Were they capable of making this kind of decision? Were they allowed to? Was this okay? What might their father say, when they inevitably discuss the entirety of their encounter with Amane with him?

    …

    They didn’t know. They couldn’t be sure, but their heart was set—they wanted to do this. Protecting people, they and their father both believed, was a noble endeavor; he always encouraged them to be kind and selfless, and… it was indeed true that they mostly wanted to protect their family from a threat that otherwise could not be fended off. Nonetheless, they would still protect strangers.

    They would get to protect everyone.

    At their extended silence, Amane spoke up, "I understand if this is jarring and sudden—"

    “No— I mean, it is,” they managed to chuckle a bit as they gazed at her. “It’s okay, though, because if I become a Demon Slayer, I can protect people. I can protect my family so that no demon ever gets the chance to hurt them, right?”

    Amane was quiet for a second. Then, she offered the smallest yet sweetest smile. "Yes, that’s right."

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    The golden afternoon light bathed their face in its gentle warmth.

    Shortly following Amane’s departure, they had returned to chopping wood, though the encounter never did leave their head. Truthfully, for the following hours, it was all they could think about; the repetitive nature of their task did not make it any easier not to focus on what had happened.

    However, what did make it easy to forget about (at least, for the moment) was the sound of small, excited footsteps heading in their direction. They smiled to themselves, setting the axe down before turning around.

    “[Name]! [Name], look!” the brighter of the twins, Muichiro, exclaimed as he ran up to them, stumbling cutely to a stop before thrusting his arm outwards and up towards them. In it, a little flower was clasped. “It’s for you!”

    Amusedly trailing behind the boy were both parents and his slightly older brother, whose hand was held only somewhat securely in his mother’s. They waved with a bright smile at their parents before turning their attention back to their brother and kneeling down. “Aw,” they cooed. “Thank you Mui. That’s really sweet.”

    “Yuichiro has one too, but he’s too shy to give it to you,” the boy commented as he gently, gingerly placed the flower behind their ear.

    “Oh?” they replied, a teasing lilt in their voice as they curiously shifted their gaze from the youngest twin to the eldest. Yuichiro puffed out his slightly flushed cheeks with childish irritation that they had to actively restrain themselves from cooing at. “Is that so?”

    “Don’t say that, Muichiro,” Yuichiro huffed, shaking his hand free of his mother’s grip and reluctantly shuffling over to them. “Here,” he murmured, tucking his flower behind their other ear.

    They stared. Yuichiro knew instantly that he was in trouble. ‘Trouble,’ of course, meaning nothing serious—only that they were going to relentlessly tease him until the event became overshadowed by other tease-worthy occurrences.

    “You know, that’s cute,” they teased, hands reaching out and gently patting each of their heads, “you guys are the cutest.”

    Their parents only smiled at the interaction.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    “Papa,” they murmured quietly from their place a few feet behind him where they were sitting on a vacant stump, fidgeting with their sleeves as they thought about how to proceed—how to bring up what had happened earlier in the day. The rhythmic snapping of wood that they had grown so used to came to a halt as the man smiled, his warm eyes turning to his oldest child.

    The light of the afternoon had long since sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky an ombre of blues as it got darker, shadows enveloping the world in the sun’s absence. Their father’s voice was gentle, considerate of their blatant anxiety, as he asked, “What is it?”

    “You know the stories about Demon Slayers you tell me sometimes?” they wondered, gaze directed downwards as an inexplicable sense of guilt began to settle in their gut. It was as if they were doing something wrong, as if the direction that the conversation would inevitably go in was somehow punishable. He walked over to them, kneeling in front of where they were sitting. “Are— are they true..?”

    “Of course. I wouldn’t tell you lies,” he laughed, reaching out to ruffle their hair. For a brief moment, the gesture seemed to calm their racing heart and trembling palms ever so slightly, but the anxiety came back just as soon as it had gone. “Why the sudden interest?”

    Their stomach twisted.

    …But really, they had no way out of it now—the truth was going to come out one way or another, and if they tried to back out, it would look suspicious.

    They always told him when something was bothering them. This ‘something’ should have been no different, but it was.

    “Um, when you all were out today…” they trailed off, now picking at the skin around their nails. Their father’s gentle but calloused—equally calloused as their own, if not more so—hands cupped theirs the second they began to do so. It was as if he was softly discouraging them from doing something that could be potentially harmful. Of course, the gentle discouragement would never be enough to fully put a stop to the habit, but it was good enough for the time being.

    “Go on. What is on your mind?”

    “When you all were out today,” they continued, taking a deep breath to soothe themselves, “a woman visited. She was nice. Her name was Ubuyashiki Amane. She explained to me that I had descended from a swordsman.”

    “That’s true,” their father confirmed, thumbs rubbing along their knuckles. “Somewhere on my side of the family, I believe, there was a great swordsman.”

    “Right.” They nodded. “She didn’t say what side, but… that’s what she told me. She’s the wife of the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, and she asked me if I would join them.”

    “...Well, do you want to?”

    “Yes…” Ashamed heat built up underneath their skin, and they only managed to squeak out a quiet ‘I’m sorry.’

    “No, no,” he immediately insisted, gripping his child’s hands with more purpose now. “Don’t be sorry. Just answer me this, okay? Do you understand the implications of that?”

    They could only nod. It was far too hard to speak under the weight of guilt and shame and embarrassment creeping around their neck and onto their chest. 

    “You are no weak child.” He smiled again. “I have to be honest, [Name]. I would rather that you didn’t join them, but I also know that you would make a fine swordsman.”

    “You— you think so?”

    “I’m certain of it.”

    A calm, reassuring silence descended. They were exceedingly aware of the ambient sounds of the night—the distant hum of insects, the—now much colder—breeze still weaving its way through the grass and leaves…

    “I know it’s dangerous,” they whispered, “but I want to be able to save people, papa. I want to be able to save you and mama and— and Mui and Yui—” 

    “Shh. I know, little one. The last thing I want is to see you get hurt,” he said, now caressing their face with his hands and bringing his forehead to theirs, “but that is a beautiful want. I raised you this way, so this comes as no surprise to me. Will she be returning?”

    “She said she would come back in three days.”

    He then withdrew, pressing a kiss to the crown of their head. “Then… I suppose I’ll have to let you go in three days.”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    That night, the only thing they could hear was the pounding of rain on the roof and the roaring of rain throughout the night.

    A soft sigh left their lips, head resting against one of the walls of their small, cozy room. Despite the powerful sense of safety their little room induced, sleep failed to find them. No matter how hard they tried, they simply could not fall asleep. Was it anxiety? Was it the stress of the day, of the decision they made? Was it the knowledge that in three days, they’d be leaving? They didn’t know. They couldn’t be sure. 

    Again, they sighed. Their eyelids closed as they listened to the repetitive tapping of the rain.

    Over the rain, they just barely managed to catch the sound of their door sliding open, but they did manage to catch it. Their tired eyes opened. Upon seeing the boy in the doorway, they smiled.

    “Hi, Yui.”

    It most certainly was not the first time one of the twins ran to their room late at night; shockingly, however, it was usually the oldest who would run to them. Muichiro was notorious for being a heavy sleeper, and he generally didn’t have nightmares, nor did thunderstorms wake him up. Yuichiro, however, slept far more lightly and was prone to waking up in the middle of the night. He disliked bothering his parents and would typically be the one to comfort Muichiro if he couldn’t sleep, so who did the older of the twins end up running to when he had trouble sleeping?

    His older sibling, of course. They would not have it any other way.

    “I guess the thunder’s just a bit too loud for you tonight,” they mused, just loud enough to be heard over the storm but not loud enough to potentially wake up anyone else. Yuichiro trembled, chewing on his bottom lip; even in the dark, they could still see the gloss of unshed tears in his eyes. “C’mere,” they murmured, opening their arms invitingly. “Guess mama and papa are asleep if you’re running to me, huh? And I’ll bet Mui is too, the heavy sleeper he is.”

    Yuichiro nodded quickly, shuffling over to them. They lifted up their blanket, readjusting it over his head when he crawled onto their futon. The way the blanket draped over his head and body almost made it look as if he was wearing a cloak of sorts—the thought made them giggle. 

    When loud thunder suddenly struck, the boom! resonating all throughout the area, he squeaked, burying his face in their torso. They hummed, leaning back against the wall. "It’s okay to be scared," they murmured now that he was close enough to hear. Soothingly, their fingers toyed with his long hair. "I’m here. I’m watching over you. You’re safe, alright?"

    Though he would likely not admit it out loud, their words soothed the fear building in his little body. He finally relaxed against their chest.

    Soon enough, he'd fallen asleep like that. It was easy to tell; the frantic, panicked breaths had become steady and slow, and he would no longer give any indication of having heard whatever they were saying to him. After some time of sitting there with him, they found that his light weight against their chest was aiding with their own sleeplessness. Eventually, they too managed to fall asleep.

    The next morning consisted much of their parents cooing over how cute the two were.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    Three days passed peacefully without incident.

    Just as Amane had promised, she returned on the morning of the fourth day, again with a Demon Slayer at her side. They weren’t sure if it was the same one, but they supposed that didn’t really matter much. 

    “Shall we take this conversation outside?” their mother suggested, to which they nodded… but they did not fail to notice their little brothers’ intense stares boring into the back of their skull from their hiding place behind one of the other doors, and it seemed that their mother also noticed.

    “I’ll tell them to wait in here, mama.”

    She smiled, thanking her child before stepping outside with her husband and Amane. Only when the front door had shut did they turn around, meeting their brothers’ gazes with equal intensity, making them squeak in unison.

    “Psst. Come here, you two.”

    Defeatedly, the twins waddled out. Muichiro was lightly clutching Yuichiro’s sleeve. Perhaps it was because of the presence of an unfamiliar woman? Muichiro was shy. He always had been—Yuichiro was the calmer one, in that respect. Muichiro was friendly, having waved timidly in Amane’s direction when she entered, but he was still shy. Their father was always trying to encourage him to be bolder, but that was easier said than done. It was often in his moments of anxiety, such as the current one, that he clung onto his twin brother, so… they supposed that could be why. 

    No. That was most definitely why.

    They kneeled down to the height of their little siblings. “Listen, I’m going away for some time, okay?”

    Muichiro’s reaction was instant—little mint eyes widened as he immediately reached forward, now tugging on their sleeve with a pouty expression. “No,” he whined. “[Name] can’t leave…”

    “I’m not leaving forever!” they quickly clarified, at which the younger twin seemed to calm down somewhat. “I’ll visit as much as I can, and I’ll send lots of letters and presents, okay?”

    They knew very well that they could not promise many visits, though… they would try their best. Hopefully, that would be enough for their brothers.

    Yuichiro, too, pouted, shooting them a childishly cute glare as he—rather weakly; he was just far too little to do any real damage—punched their arm. “You better,” he huffed.

    “Of course,” they reassured. “I can’t disappoint my little brothers, now can I?”

    Both boys shook their heads, as if to agree and say, ‘No, you can’t.’ Though, they were not oblivious, and they took notice of the generally downcast demeanors the two bore. Well… if their mother wasn’t here, wasn’t looking, then… they grinned a mischievous smile, reaching into the clothes draped over their body and pulled out two pieces of candy. Their clothes, particularly the folds and the sleeves, were exceptional places to store bribery material.

    The two children seemed to brighten up almost instantly at the sight of the sweets in their open palm (though, the brightening was less obvious on Yuichiro’s face, but they could tell that his mood did indeed improve, if only a little). Each took one from their palm, and they leaned forward to press kisses to each of their foreheads.

    “Don’t tell mama, okay?”

“[Name],” Yuichiro whined in protest, his face twisting in dramatic disgust. Muichiro only giggled at his brother’s annoyance. “Gross.”

    “Oh, hush,” they replied. “It’s not gross.”

    “Yeah, it is,” the older of the twins insisted, sticking his tongue out at them, to which they playfully rolled their eyes. “Bleh.”

    “Hey, you’re going to miss my ‘gross’ affection when I’m not at home all the time to give it to you,” they laughed as they stood up. “I’m going to head outside now, okay? Me, mama, and papa are just going to talk to that nice lady, so wait in here for us.”

    When the twins finally nodded, their reluctance not completely erased but placated for the moment, they finally slid open the front door and stepped out of the house.

    “Good morning, Lady Amane,” they greeted with a little smile as they closed the door behind them before walking over to said woman, who was in conversation with their parents. A small smile graced her elegant features once her eyes landed on them.

    “Hello, child.”

    A hand belonging to none other than their father found its way onto their head, ruffling their locks of hair, before falling back to his side. “So, they’ll have a safe place to stay while training, and you won’t let them go to… ah, forgive me—the Final Selection, was it called?”

    “Yes,” she confirmed, “and please, do not worry. We would not permit a child under our care to partake in the selection unless they were fully prepared to do so. Furthermore, we would be more than happy to host them at our home on the days that they do not return home.”

    Though their mother was reluctant—far more so than their father—she sighed, wringing her hands together before her arms settled back down at her sides. “Well… very well, then.” Her cool, mint-toned eyes shifted downwards to them. They stared back up at her, wide-eyed and anticipating her response. Her nimble fingers gently raked through their hair, stroking over the top of her oldest child’s head and down to just below their ear, before settling on cupping their face. “You have to promise to write to us often and come to visit when you can, okay?”

    “Yes! I will, mama, I promise.”

    “Then… you may go. Be careful, love, and save lots of people, too.”

    “I will!”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    Truth be told, they did not own much. There wasn’t much of anything they needed to take with them—even clothes were not necessary, since Amane said that the Corps would cover it.

    Following the conversation, after giving hugs and—much to Yuichiro’s absolute despair—kisses, they left alongside the woman.

    “The journey back will be long,” Amane began, tilting her face in their direction to speak directly to them. They couldn’t help but admire the way her pale locks framed her face, tickling her cheeks and truly reinforcing the noble image of her that they had created in their head. “Therefore, we will spend the night at the current Flame Hashira’s manor. Demons are at their most active at nighttime, as they cannot survive exposure to direct sunlight, so we should avoid traveling after sundown as diligently as possible.”

    “Hashira?”

    “Ah. You have not yet learned of our ranking system… it seems I neglected to explain that detail. I am sorry, little one.”

    “No, no!” They waved their hands frantically as they went on to reassure her: “Please don’t apologize to me! It’s okay! I’m sure there’s lots of things you couldn’t possibly have had the time to explain to me in the short conversations we’ve had! It’s not your fault!”

    “Shall I explain now, then?” Briefly, she turned to face the accompanying Demon Slayer. “How long is the trip to Lord Rengoku’s estate?”

    Immediately, the person straightened up, giving her their complete attention. “Yes, Lady Amane! The walk will be about three hours!”

    “Then,” she began, turning back to face them with what seemed to be her usual serenity, “we do have time, if you would like to hear the explanation of the ranking system as we walk. It will also be explained to you at the end of the Final Selection, but you needn’t wait until then if you would like to know in advance.”

    “If you wouldn’t mind”--they offered her a timid smile, almost embarrassed to ask such a thing of her, even though she was the one who extended the offer in the first place—”I would like to hear about it. Since— since we have the time. If you don’t mind. Um. I said that already, didn’t I..?”

    She mirrored their smile, except hers reflected great grace and calmness that theirs certainly lacked (at least, that it lacked in that moment; something about their situation felt exceedingly surreal, as if they could not believe that it was actually happening, so it was quite difficult to maintain a steady expression and tone). 

    “Very well. At the very bottom are Mizunotos…”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    Amane’s explanation, naturally, did not last the full three hours it took to reach the estate.

    Really, it only took about thirty minutes. They did, however, ask a multitude of questions that extended the length of the discussion for quite some time. The conversation drifted between topics—she did not have any children yet, they learned, though she did express the desire to have a few; they wondered if she felt at all compelled to, or if she simply wanted to be a mother… it wasn’t their place to make any kind of assumptions, so they did not dare to ask such a question—for some time, before settling into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the walk.

    By the time they reached the open gate of the house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon.

    “Good afternoon, Lord Rengoku.”

    A man stood tall slightly in front of the gateway, white haori dipped in the tones of flames blowing in the breeze alongside his matching hair (really, all they could possibly think when they looked at him was flames). Beside him stood a boy practically identical to him.

    Oh, that had to be his son. They genuinely could not fathom another explanation.

    “Lady Amane,” the older man greeted, his sharp gaze briefly flicking in their direction and making them squeak at its intensity, “welcome. I hope your journey was pleasant.”

    “It went smoothly. Thank you for your concern.” She then reached out, placing a gentle hand on their upper back. They instinctively straightened up somewhat, now completely under the scrutiny of that intense-eyed man and his intense-eyed son. “This is Tokito [Name], one living descendant of the first swordsman to use Breathing Styles, Tsugikuni Yoriichi.”

    “I see.”

    “It— It’s nice to meet you, sir!” they exclaimed, voice wavering slightly under the weight of their sudden shyness, bowing at the waist level.

    Silence.

    Then, a gruff snort—a chuckle—from the older man. A tough hand settled on their head and ruffled their locks. “Hey, kid. I am Rengoku Shinjuro, the Demon Slayer Corps’ Flame Hashira. Stand up straight. You know how to use a sword?”

    “I don’t, sir,” they replied, straightening their body once again and beginning to pick at the skin around their nails. 

    (This time, their father was not there to gently stop them. It was too soon to be growing homesick, but suddenly, a little bit of sadness settled in their gut. They could only hope that it did not show on their face.)

    “Well, now’s as good a time as any to start learning.” He turned his attention to his son. “Kyojuro—”

    “Yes, father!”

Oh. They winced. That boy was surely going to blow their eardrums out if he kept talking like that, but at the very least, his enthusiasm made them feel a bit better.

    “--why don’t you go ahead and teach them the basics of swordsmanship?”

    He beamed at the idea; they almost had to squint at the sheer brightness his face shone with. “Yes, father!”

    Kyojuro looked at them with a grin, his shoulders squared and proud as he extended one of his hands to them. “I am Rengoku Kyojuro!”

    “It’s nice to meet you, Rengoku, I’m— ah?!” they cut themselves off with a yelp as, the very second they placed their hand in his, he darted off beyond the gates and into the estate’s grounds, effectively dragging them along with him. They barely even had time to spare Amane a glance.

    Then, he suddenly stopped, causing them to stumble into his back with a small ‘oof!’

    “Ow.”

    “Sorry!” he apologized, glancing around the open space, as if searching for something. His gaze landed on a weapon rack, and his face immediately brightened again as he walked over to it. Two wooden swords, among a variety of other weapons, rested there. He picked up both. Then, with only a quick ‘Catch!’ as a warning, he tossed one in their direction.

    Deft hands caught it by the handle.

    Having spent much of their childhood chopping wood, they knew not to catch or grab any tools by the blade unless completely necessary.

    (When Muichiro was two, a visitor to their home left one hatchet in an extremely poor place. When it fell down, it may have very well split the poor boy’s face in half…

    …If not for their stopping it with their hand, that is. He did end up with a little bit of blood on his face, but they were just thankful that it wasn’t his; their wound meant nothing as long as he was okay. The scar, even two years later, would still stare back at them if they were to open their right hand and look for it—a huge slit across their palm that could have very easily affected their grip strength permanently. It served as a reminder of the stupid things they would do to protect their little brothers.

    Their current endeavor was also kind of stupid, now that they thought about it.)

    Technically, the wooden sword had no blade. It was more about the principle than the actual situation; they should never get into the habit of grabbing a wooden sword by its “blade,” lest that habit end up getting them hurt when they start using real swords with real blades.

    Kyojuro seemed delighted at their handling of the practice sword, too.

    “Okay!” he exclaimed. “Your first lesson is on how to hold the sword correctly! And the proper stance!”

    “The correct stance…” they echoed quietly.

    “Yes. When you stand, your feet should be shoulder’s width apart,” Kyojuro explained. Subconsciously, they adjusted their stance when he explained. He seemed to have calmed down somewhat by then, the volume of his voice having lowered quite considerably as he settled into his explanation. He approached them, gently and carefully tapping the back of their locked knees with his practice sword. “Also, don’t lock your knees”

    “Right.”

    “If you lock your knees, it makes it easier for people to knock you off balance. Sometimes it also can lead to injuries or make it easier for you to be injured, so keep them slightly bent at all times. There might be exceptions later down the line, but that’s just the general rule.”

    The younger child stepped back, raising his hand to his chin thoughtfully as he picked apart their stance for any significant errors or anything that needed to be corrected. When he found nothing, he nodded firmly, his bright smile returning to replace the thoughtful expression on his face.

    “Onto holding the sword, then!”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    By the time Kyojuro had gone over all the basics that he felt were necessary, the sun had long since set, leaving the moon in its wake to bathe the Earth below in its soothing, cool light. The boy with the fiery hair had insisted on sparring with them.

    ‘Just a little!’ he had said. ‘I won’t push you too hard!’

    …They shot said boy a playful glare as their chest heaved, the wooden sword helping to support some of their weight as they caught their breath. They were careful to not put too much weight on the sword, though—oh, they’d feel terrible if they somehow broke or chipped it, no matter how unlikely that scenario actually was.

    (Amane had mentioned on the journey to the Flame Estate that Hashira are paid as much as they want, so they were fairly certain that Shinjuro would easily be able to afford a replacement without even causing so much as a dent in his savings. Still… they were a guest. To just waltz into someone’s home and recklessly break their belongings would be utterly unforgivable!

    …Even if that wouldn’t have even been close to what would have happened.)

    Kyojuro laughed boisterously at the look they gave him. “You’re strong, Tokito!”

    “Thanks… so are you. Ahh… my arms hurt…”

    He didn’t reply for a moment—if he was looking at something, they couldn’t really tell, as their head was tilted down while they tried to catch their breath and slow their racing heartbeat.

    “Oh!” he suddenly gasped, grabbing their hand and running over to one of the entrances to the house. “Hello, mother! This is Tokito [Name]!”

    Between the shock of being suddenly dragged along again and the panting from sparring with him, it took them a minute to raise their head. When they did, however, they were greeted with the sight of a dark-haired, red-eyed woman (she looked concerningly pale, they noted, but did not ask about something so potentially personal) with a boy identical to Kyojuro and his father clutching her sleeve shyly. He didn’t dare to meet their gaze, no matter how gentle they may have looked.

    “You have a brother?” they asked Kyojuro, smiling kindly at the little boy when he made a small noise of surprise at being indirectly addressed.

    Before the older son could respond, the woman did. “Yes,” she said. “This is Rengoku Senjuro, and I am Rengoku Ruka.”

    The lady of the house.

    “Ah, I’m— I’m so sorry for not addressing you first, Lady Rengoku!” they quickly apologized. “It’s just that I have—”

    She raised a hand, and they stopped.

    “Please. Mrs. Rengoku is perfectly fine,” she softly assured. “Continue, little one.”

    “Ah… of course, Mrs. Rengoku.” Heat rushed to their cheeks, and they reached up to shyly scratch the back of their neck. “I have little brothers that are probably around his age, and one of them is really shy. It just made me think of him, so I wanted to address Senjuro gently instead of pretending he wasn’t there. All kids are different, but… I think that maybe it helps to establish kindness first and foremost.”

    The ghost of a smile graced her lips at that. “It is to protect them that you’ve decided to join the Corps, yes?”

    “Yes, miss. That is a big part of why,” they started, “but I also want to protect a lot of other people, too. My dad always told me I should.”

    She nodded. Something unidentifiable flashed across her face for a moment, but just as fast as it had arrived, it left. All they could discern was that it was not necessarily negative. She then began to speak again.

    “Thank you for being Kyojuro’s friend. I hope Senjuro will also be friends with you one day.”

    The little boy buried his face in his mother’s side at that.

    Somehow—though they were sure it should not have been possible—Kyojuro’s face brightened immeasurably, as if it wasn’t bright enough already. He had yet to let go of their hand.

    “Oh— oh, of course!” No friendship had really been ‘formally established,’ in that he never explicitly asked if they wanted to be friends with him, but they didn’t mind much. “No, I really should be thanking him… he’s technically my first friend within the Corps, or my first friend who is associated with the Corps. It makes the idea of beginning my training before the Final Selection seem a lot less intimidating.”

    “That is good, then.” Her gaze shifted between the two of them. She looked as if she were contemplating something, as if whatever she planned to say next had to be considered carefully. Then, she finally murmured, “Protect one another out there, alright?”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    Morning had come quickly after the conversation with Ruka. They had been fed, clothed, and given a room to stay in. Once the sun had risen and they greeted the Hashira, they tried to return the nightclothes, but Shinjuro had simply brushed it off, telling them that they should keep the set. Following that, Amane had departed with them and her Demon Slayer guard, though not before they said their goodbyes to Kyojuro.

    The remainder of the walk—about four hours—was completed in peaceful silence.

    As they approached, finally approached, their destination, an overwhelming but not unpleasant scent filled their senses.

    “Wisteria?”

    “It wards off demons.”

    “I see…” they murmured, awestruck at the sheer amount of wisteria trees surrounding the estate, the vines draping down and creating what could only possibly be described as an ethereal barrier between the outside world and the important family that lived within. 

    Upon pushing past the flower barrier, their eyes widened somewhat.

    "This," Amane began, "is the Demon Slayer Corps' headquarters. My husband and I live here. You are welcome to stay here until after the Final Selection, when you begin missions."

    “Are…” They trailed off, eyes flicking around the astonishing expanse of the home and admiring its beauty. Their attention was also drawn to the masked Demon Slayers scurrying around; unlike regular Slayers, these did not bear weapons. Other Demon Slayers, they also noted, seemed to always be unmasked, but these... 

    “They’re the Kakushi,” Amane’s guard said. They blinked—once, twice. That was the first time that they’d heard that person speak a whole sentence. Ignoring their bewilderment, the guard went on: “You could think of them as a cleanup and medical crew. They’re usually the people who have no swordsmanship skills, but still wanted to help our cause in some way.”

    “Ah.”

    “Right. Well, then…” The Slayer stepped forward and bowed to Amane. “I will be taking my leave, Lady Amane! I pray for your continued safety!”

    “Very well.” Amane nodded. “Thank you for escorting us safely.”

    “Of course!”

    With that, the person was off, and they were reminded of what they were initially going to ask.

    “Um… are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here, Lady Amane? I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

    “Worry not,” she reassured. “It is no imposition. Come along. The master would like to meet you."

    With graceful, practiced strides, she began walking again, and they were quick to stumble after her. They followed along closely as she entered the home (though not before removing her shoes, and they swiftly followed her motion), peering curiously down different hallways as they walked.

    Already, they could foresee themselves getting lost… and probably more than once. The halls weren’t particularly difficult to navigate—there were just an astonishing amount of them that branched off, leading to different rooms and sometimes even additional hallways. It was dizzying, in a way.

    They couldn’t linger on those thoughts for too long, though, as Amane slowed to a stop in front of one particular room. Her gentle hands slid the door open, and she motioned for them to go inside.

    “Go ahead. Master is waiting.”

    “You’re not coming?”

    She smiled. The gesture alone immensely reassured them, easing whatever irrational concerns they had fabricated in their mind. “No, young one. I also have my own responsibilities to take care of, but worry not. Whatever it is that you are expecting, whatever you have envisioned that is causing you such fear, I assure you that the boy in that room will be nothing like it.”

Boy?

    Nonetheless, they nodded, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ to her before stepping inside. She slid the door closed once they did.

    Beyond the threshold of the door, they spotted him for the first time—a dark-haired boy barely any older than they were, sitting with his legs tucked underneath himself on one side of a short table. The other side was vacant, presumably a seat for anyone he needed to speak to. Their breath hitched.

    He really was a boy. If they had to guess, they would say he was maybe twelve or thirteen; he was virtually their age. It made them fleetingly wonder how he could sit there and look so graceful. When the weight of leading the entire Corps through what could only be described as a war, how could he look so at peace? They dared not ask. Maybe they were too afraid to, or perhaps they really didn’t want to know.

    His attention shifted to them, and he smiled.

    They would be nervous to be under his scrutiny, but… it really didn’t feel like he was scrutinizing them—only gazing over their nervous form. It was then that they took notice of the sickly purple threatening to creep down his face from his hairline, which was another thing they were not keen on asking about, whether that be because they did not want to come off as impolite or because they knew that the answer may not be pleasant.

    “Come. Have a seat,” he beckoned gently, tone making their head spin at its utter softness.

    They snapped out of their daze, timidly shuffling over to the table and gingerly situating themselves on the side opposite to him. Embarrassed heat flooded their cheeks at the simple thought alone that their first impression might have gone poorly. They stood there like a child awaiting instruction! They tried not to think too deeply about that, lest they grow overcome by the wish to melt into the floor and disappear. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

    “There is nothing to apologize for,” he reassured. “My name is Ubuyashiki Kagaya. You may address me in whatever manner that you feel most comfortable, but most of the Corps’ children call me me Master. It is a pleasure to meet you, [Name].”

    “Y— You as well,” they somehow managed to stutter out, feeling a bit lighter every time he spoke to them. 

    Carefully, with motions surely just as practiced as—if not more so than—Amane, he rose to his feet. “Walk with me. Any questions you may have, I would be more than happy to answer.”

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    Questions, questions.

    They certainly had many. How did the Corps come to be? They had heard Lady Amane mention breathing styles—what exactly were they? Each question was answered in full with kind patience. Kagaya truly was more than happy to engage them as he brought them around the estate grounds. They’d even gotten answers to questions they were previously afraid to ask without even needing to work up the courage to ask them. Every single detail about the Corps was covered thoroughly, and the knowledge they attained was beyond reassuring. Things no longer seemed so intimidating.

    Of course, the idea of going head-to-head in combat with a demon whose strength undoubtedly exceeded theirs as a human was… certainly unsettling. It was still intimidating, but at the very least, they now fully understood the expectations in place for them and all other Demon Slayers.

    Coming to a halt in front of a door, Kagaya turned to them. “This is the room in which you will be staying. It is quite barren at this time, but you are wholly encouraged to decorate it to your tastes.”

    The walk continued after that. Down another hallway, turning another few corners… and then, he stopped again, this time sliding the door he had stopped in front of open.

    Warm, gentle rays of sunlight seeped into the room through a crack in another door opposite to where they were standing. If they had to make a guess, they would say that it led out into the little courtyard garden in the middle of the house. Shelves lined the inside of the room, filled to the brim with stacks of books on a vast variety of topics. A small table sat in an otherwise vacant space between two of the bookcases.

    “In this room, you will find books on quite possibly anything you could imagine,” Kagaya began, watching with a gentle, adorning smile as they cautiously stepped into the room, as if they feared causing even the smallest bit of damage or disturbance. “In particular, you should be able to find a record of nearly every breathing style to exist, even the unique ones that were personally tailored to suit their creator’s needs. Spend as much time as you would like in here. Find a breathing style that resonates with you, and then come find either myself or Amane.”

    They nodded fervently, quickly spinning around to face him and bowing. “I will. Thank you.”

    “Also,” he started once more, “do not be shy to explore the expanse of the estate’s land. You will be spending some time here, so please do familiarize yourself with the layout.”

    “Yes, I will,” they replied, standing up straight once again. “Thank you again.”

    With that, he nodded at them, the soft smile on his lips still remaining as he slid the door shut, before—presumably—leaving.

    A gentle, thoughtful hum rose in their throat as they stepped closer to one of the shelves. Mindful fingertips trailed along the spines of each book, reading the labels as they went along. It just so happened that this shelf was one of what they assumed would be many with some books about breathing styles.

    Kagaya’s explanation was thorough. From it, they had come to understand the five fundamental Breathing Styles—Water, Flame, Wind, Stone, and Thunder. Then, the derivatives, such as Flower, Insect, and Mist. Their options were plentiful and certainly not limited, which they supposed was a good thing, but it was also… overwhelming. Insanely so. How were they meant to know which Breathing Style would be the best for them, for their body?

    …Maybe they should ask Kagaya.

    Though, that could wait until later. For now, the very least they could do was research—the only way they’d know what Breath Style to pursue would be by investigating the demands of each one.

    Of course, their combat style was hardly even their main focus; first and foremost, they would need to focus on getting stronger. However, it was never a bad idea to prepare in advance, and the leader of the Corps must have thought the same; otherwise, they couldn’t possibly imagine why he might lead them here and leave them to their devices.

    A soft sigh left through their nose, thoughts drifting back to the family they left behind. It really was too soon to grow homesick, and yet…

    They were utterly powerless to stop sick feeling from clawing at their throat and sinking into their skin.

    They hadn’t thought too deeply about it before, but from here on out, they saw themselves being exceedingly busy. Too busy to visit as often as they would like to, at least. They could only see it getting worse one they were actually an active member of the Corps. Would they have time to see their parents? To see their brothers? The thought that their family may one day perceive their joining the Corps as abandonment made their stomach twist, as if someone shoved a knife into them.

    …But there was nothing to be done about that at the moment. No amount of regret could change the decision they made, and really, could they say they regretted it? They didn’t think so. What they did regret, however, was how distant their home was from the Ubuyashiki Estate. Seven hours… it was quite the distance.

    They sighed again, shaking those thoughts off before they could spiral again as they delicately plucked one book out of its spot.

    Its contents were about the most basic of Breathing Styles—Water Breathing.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

    What had once been light yellow midday light peeking through the crack of the door was now golden, late afternoon light that crawled further into the space than it did before as the sun crept downwards.

    Sleepily, their hand toyed with the edge of one paper page, the other hand being used to prop up their chin as they fought desperately to keep their heavy eyelids open. Lazy eyes sluggishly scanned the words hand-written on the page, barely comprehending what was written—something about the proper positioning of each foot for the specific form that they were reading about, which was… actually, they weren’t even sure anymore. What Breathing Style was this book even about? Their head hurt.

    Two other books were neatly stacked off to the side.

    It had taken quite a few hours of walking to get from the Flame Estate to the Ubuyashiki Estate. Although they were well-used to physical exertion—one impact of growing up among a family of woodcutters—walking for hours on end was tiring, especially for someone so young. Though, it was hardly the physical exertion that made them tired, but that paired with the mental exhaustion caused by studying several different books for multiple hours was certainly enough to make them sleepy.

    "I see you’ve taken interest in Mist Breathing," a calm voice, harboring just the slightest twinge of amusement, spoke up, scaring them into awareness.

    Oh, right. Mist Breathing. That’s what the book in front of them was about.

    Their eyes snapped fully open, body jolting into an upright position. Once they swiftly twisted their body to look at the source of the voice, they calmed down somewhat, although their face did flood with embarrassed warmth again. “Master…"

    A light chuckle resonated through the room. He paced over to the table, situating himself at the other end. “We, unfortunately, do not have any active trainers for Mist Breathing.” His gaze shifted to the other two books. “Ah, Water Breathing and Flower Breathing. While we also lack a trainer for the latter, we do have one for the former, if that is something you would be interested in.”

    They perked up suddenly at the discussion of Breathing Styles. Blinking away the growing sleep in their eyes, they dared to finally, properly meet his gaze.

    “Oh, actually… how do you know what Breathing Style to pursue? I just… I’m kind of having trouble deciding. It all feels so overwhelming.”

    “It is normal to feel that way,” Kagaya assured, “but the truth is that there is no way to simply know.”

    “Ah…”

    Then, he hummed thoughtfully. “Your ancestor, Tsugikuni Yoriichi, was the creator of Breathing Styles and used the most powerful one of them all, Sun Breathing.”

    An unspoken question danced on their lips. They did not need to voice it; Kagaya seemed to know what they might ask, and so, he went on to answer.

    “We have very little information about it.”

    “Ah. That’s a shame, then.”

    “Indeed,” he agreed, nodding. “...If you wanted to pursue it, though, I would not be opposed to doing further research into it.”

    Their face brightened up almost instantly. Still, they did not immediately take his offer.

    “Are you sure?” they wondered, going to pick at the skin around their nails once again. It was almost guaranteed that their fingertips would be raw within the next few days if they kept it up. “I would not want to ask something so… I don’t know. Something so demanding of you and your time, knowing how busy you are.”

    A smile adorned his features, and his eyes crinkled somewhat with something they couldn’t quite discern. It almost seemed to be fondness, or something extremely similar.

    “I am quite sure. I would not have extended the offer to you otherwise. I will look into Sun Breathing, but for now, I would advise picking an alternative.”

    “Well…” they mused, gaze flicking back down to the open book in front of them. “...In that case, I think I’d like to teach myself Mist Breathing. I am not the type of person to shy away from a challenge.”

    Kagaya nodded. "Very well, then. Despite being unable to perform Breathing Styles myself, I have had the immense honor of witnessing many talented swordsmen execute them. As such, I will be able to offer you corrections on your stance, though I am afraid I will not be able to do much else in the way of assisting your training.”

    They nodded, listening attentively despite their tiredness.

    Truly, it was an honor that he was so willing to help at all; he very well could have left them completely on their own to figure it out, and yet, here he was, expressing regret over being unable to help them in some other way.

    "Another important aspect of training for the Final Selection is developing an exercise routine alongside practicing your chosen Breath Style. Your exercise routine should take precedence. The goal is to increase skills such as endurance, speed, and strength," the young leader explained further. Noticing their tired expression, he chuckled. "That is something to handle tomorrow, though. You should rest; your journey was not a short one, after all."

    All they could do was offer a timid, astonished nod. The boy then rose to his feet and they quickly followed suit, picking up the three books on the table as they did. With focused caution despite the exhaustion permeating their bones, they put the first two back on the shelves.

    "You can borrow the Mist Breathing book," Kagaya said before they could put it away. "It will be a good reference for you to have.”

    "Are you sure?" they questioned, holding the last book in their hands. The care with which they held it was almost laughable, though not in a mocking manner—laughable in that their nervousness was simply endearing. It spoke volumes about the way that they were raised. "Is... is that really okay?"

    "Of course. Now, come along. You can begin training tomorrow once you have adequately rested."

reblogs with comments or tags > likes. @soleillunne.

[castawavy]

November Save MEGA summary (part 6)

before / next

we're almost at the end now and im sad but also happy that I left off on a good note and not when I was exchausted playing with a legacy

so to start, june and steve are still happy wed

elijah also aged up and it was his birthday and I have NO photos which im really mad about but here he is after I gave him a makeover

adelaide also kissed landon (GASP) but steve saw him leaving their house and decided to give her to talk:tm: 💀 which she wasnt happy about

despite the cringe from her father, she went on a date with landon anyways, and they are kind of a thing, but also kind of not a thing

elijah also set everything on fire trying to cook eggs because hes trying to get as much protein in (but he cant cook)

so now hes only allowed to cook whilst being supervised by june 🤦‍♂️

adelaide made friends with a girl name bridget, who is lily & victor feng's daughter, and she was so pretty but annoyingly adelaide wasnt even remotely interested

some father & son bonding time which doesnt really progress the plot but is cute anyways so here it is

and adelaide got a job at the country club, she's basically a server at the pool bar, but in winter she works catering inside

she also met her coworkers and they taught her how to sucessfully slack off during work hours

and she freaked out tyler cuz shes #quirky

that weekend she also went to a house party and snogged landon HJGSHJSGJHDFVJHD but also caught up with the bheeda sisters

steve and june also proved they were middle aged by starting a new hobby together (power walking) AND THEYRE SOOO CUTE 🥺💖

then they took erica out for lunch and the local seafood place that im really mad I lost because it was my best renovation of club calico YET

and then BIG HUGE NEWS, but the family got a dog named Moose

then I place a church in myt save because I had a bad feeling something ominous would happen to erica soon...

and I WAS RIGHT

so um, yeah, until next time I guess (bows) 😆

before / next

[minecraftrelatedrandomness]

okay so apparently the post i made at 4am last night about the denholm family legacy and corresponding mental health implications blew up and now i'm receiving all sorts of screaming (/pos) in the tags. on a Related note, i've been brainrotting about p!scott's character intro sequence so much and now i Need to yell about all this somewhere or i'm gonna cry.

"Okay (×7), what do I need? Big day. BIG day. Okay. Okay, um, let's get the spyglass Dad got me and… Mum got me the new journal [to] write down all my discoveries."

the fact that the journal p!scott was using as a diary was meant for THIS. THIS was what it was meant to be used for. i would just like to point this out to y'all.

the EXPECTATIONS from the very start. good god it's so offhand of a comment but i am Stuck here. the Expectation of following in your family's footsteps. it's not just "do what We did" but also "do what you are Supposed to do".

"What else do I need? Ehm… outfit, check… oh, food! Um, Mum said… there we go, she'd made me five mutton wraps, okay, this will- I'm a little bit hungry… no, I shouldn't, I gotta save this; this has got to do me for a while until I can, like, find my own things. Ehm, what else do I need to take? It's Initiation Day, so everything starts here."

i don't have much of a comment on this. i really don't. only thing i can probably say is my headcanon of p!scott learning to cook from his mother.

"Um… the sword. Right. This is a family heirloom; it's served all the other Herons well, it'll serve me well, I'll definitely- I'm gonna discover so many things, I'm gonna make everyone proud, just like I was… born to do. Just like I was meant to do, 'cause I'm a Heron and that's- it's all I've ever been, and it's all I'm… was ever gonna be."

god the RESIGNATION. just. the resignation of having so much pressure put on you that it can crush rocks without using a machine. there's no way out of Being in the heron faction and doing what herons are Supposed to do. we see in the vods it's not that you Don't enjoy exploring and discovering things, but Man, would you prefer to do it on your own terms?

(what was going through your head when your brother turned up on the isles again, after you thought star dead and mourned star for a year? when star decided to join a Different faction from you and go against all you both have been taught?)

(you called the nightingales stars "new family" during the dipper quest. it's undeniable that you still love your brother and we all know that, but do you feel abandoned in that star has left you to join a new faction and have stars own life? do you feel that being in different factions means you Shouldn't have a place in stars life anymore, though you refuse to let your actions show it? do you envy star for having escaped the toxic environment where you both grew up in? that while you were born and saddled with all the expectations, star shouldn't have had to worry as much because your parents put all their eggs in a single basket, i.e. you?)

and the sword. the sword being a physical Reminder of all the baggage that comes with being raised by Internationally Famous parents who Expect you to do the same or risk their disappointment… something you either can't imagine or would rather not imagine?

"Ehm, hm… well, I'm- I guess this is everything. (sigh) Here we go. It's the life I always wanted, or at least, the life that I was given."

ohhhhh god the implication of being told this is the life you are Supposed to aspire to. and going along with it because you were raised to believe this is the life you Should have and internalizing it because you can barely even Imagine an alternative.

even when you ask yourself, "do you Really want to live like this?", do you hesitate to answer? it is just a yes/no question but does your answer Always have a "but" after it? because going against what you've been taught growing up is Not An Option For You, at least in your mind?

oh to think when someone asks, "how do you Live like this?", the response in your heart is "you don't." because in a toxic household, there is only survival and you Build Your Bed on surviving based on what you have been taught. because you can barely fathom a life where this Isn't the case.

"Alright, I'm gonna be late. Look out, world, Scott Denholm, #1 Heron, ready for action!"

this sounds like an assurance of confidence, yeah, but who Are you trying to convince? are you telling the world, or are you telling yourself? with all that you have already said, one might wonder which is truly the case.

(also, when cc!scott said that his character had "anxiety" from trying to live up to the expectations, was this supposed to mean "anxiety (emotion)" or "anxiety (disorder)"? because while the first one is very obvious, i would not be surprised if the second one happens to be the case as well.)

in summary: p!acho is a walking embodiment of trauma and drops it in Moments across many livestreams so you don't forget. p!scott is Also a walking embodiment of trauma but drops it in the first three minutes of the series and Never speaks of it again.

[haleigh-sloth]

Are you holding your thoughts back for now on this current chapter? I know I should wait until next week, but I still feel like this chapter feels very off and incomplete. Even for it to be AFO's send-off in the story, it still feels unsatisfying to me.

I really wonder if this is a fake-out, then how will Hori execute it because Eri's rewind theory is out of question since it's been used on Deku's arms.

Well, I've more or less been checked out from the manga for a while anyway. I don't have much thoughts in general these days because the pacing drives me nuts to an extent that it's not worth it to follow it closely for me at this time. I'd rather just binge it all at once. I do follow the leaks but I cannot say I have a 100% accurate understanding of all the minute details because it's been a hot minute since I read a full chapter.

For this though, I just don't know what to say. Is it possible he's genuinely dead? I mean yeah. It's always a possibility. But I can't say I'm convinced, just because Kurogiri's last words indicate that um...he needs to come back so he can have a reunion with his friends. And the thing is he never actually CAME BACK. Like not once since the war arc was he himself. So I cannot see how this can actually be his ending.

There is a break next week which is more telling to me than anything because Hori literally ALWAYS does shit like this, so another reason I'm just....eh...for now. Also, all of the LOV members have been untouched and left in states that hint at them being dead for multiple chapters now...so I mean. Tomura following suit doesn't surprise me. Then there was the info dump right at the end about his quirk, about the overhaul quirk and how his had the restorative piece left out of it. I mean, it does feel like that was mentioned intentionally. And almost everything in this manga that is mentioned comes back with a vengeance in some way.

There's also the lackluster incompleteness of his character with this chapter that doesn't feel like it can possibly be his ending. Him ending on a note of "tell my friend Tomura Shigaraki fought to destroy until the very end" just literally negates everything that happened prior. Like that's not the legacy or parting words his character was built up to having. His character is meant to evolve beyond the destructive mindset, not just be like "yeah well, I was committed to the bit til the very end!" Like no. Lol. I do think Hori is better than that. Especially for this character. Also him using "Tomura Shigaraki" feels intentional as well, seeing as how that's not his real name. And he literally just acknowledged that he really was a crying boy all this time. Which is Tenko.

Then....idk. Midoriya's biggest "save" ending up being dead? Just...yikes. The thing is, I don't have any doubt in my mind that Toga and Touya and Spinner are fine. For the main character to lose his biggest challenge while his friends successfully completed theirs is certainly an odd choice. So therefore I just am not convinced. For all the reasons.

Regarding AFO, until the Tomura stuff is resolved I can't spare a thought toward any other character right now. That is also one of the key points of the manga I've just been tapped out of by not reading full chapters. I can't give much serious commentary on AFO yet.

But yeah I mean I guess I am just holding back for the most part. I am kind of at a point where I feel like the only way I can genuinely feel joy from this manga again is to wait until it's completely finished and then read it all at once. Do I have that self-control? Not sure, I've been able to almost completely detach for almost a year at this point so I will probably lean hard into that and seriously remove myself from it until it's time to catch up. I love this story, I do trust the author and am putting faith in him even if right now that faith is wavering. I want to finish the story and like it for what it is. I do have my hopes and am not letting them go until I have no other choice.

[thewalkingplumbob]

Previously / Legacy Tag

Transcript below:

Reila was down bad lately. She was always exhausted from working long hours in the lab. Her after work routine was always the same: get home, give Luca a good night kiss, change out of her work clothes and into something comfy, and then plop down in front of the TV. It was getting stale. She was starting to burn out.

*worried*

Emely: Babe, what's going on with you? You're even quieter than usual tonight.

Reila: I'm just...tired. Not just physically. Emotionally. Em--I think I'm burnt out.

Emely, sitting down: I've noticed. I didn't realize it had gotten that bad though.

Reila, sighing loud: I was trying to keep it to myself. Trying to fake that I was okay.

Emely: Why? We've always been able to talk. Did you think I wouldn't understand?

Reila: It's more like...I didn't want to admit something was wrong. And if I said it out loud...then it would be real.

Emely: Your feelings are real. They're valid and you never have to hide them from me.

Reila: I guess sometimes I just need a reminder.

Emely: Well this is your reminder. So, what do you want to do?

Reila: I need to quit my job.

*hiding shock*

Emely: Oh! Okay, um...

Reila: I know it's a big decision. And money will be tight if I'm not working.

Emely: If this is what you really want, you know I support you.

Reila: Thanks babe. I can still do some freelance work on the side. It won't be forever. I just need a break.

Emely: I understand. You do what you need to. I love you and I'm here for you.

Reila: I love you too. So much.

[tonyperryforreal]

Uh hey what’s up you guys, It’s bryan! I am the most hated person in the internet. Okay it’s nice to meet you! Um this is uh this has been something else i gotta tell you. Um i i don’t even know what to say. It’s, Ive filmed a bunch of these videos and sometimes im angry sometimes im crying sometimes im trying to explain everything its i dont even know what to say. But um, you know when your friends and when your fans and when everyone is saying that you’ve fucked up and you made a lot of mistakes you know you can’t just assume that all of them are wrong and that you’re in the right. Um i don’t think everything that’s been said about me is true cause there’s been so many things said at this point and you know i think to a certain extent it’s a little bit of jumping onto the bandwagon, but at the same time my whole life i’ve struggled to take accountability for things you know. Ive just been really bad at it and obviously ive learned a lot of other things that im really bad at over the past few days. And at this point i have to take responsibility for everything that ive done. Because i guess there’s a lot of things and um, you know i can’t really make a video here and say all the things the people have accused me of and say you know im sorry for this and im sorry for that but i guess all i can say is.. im sorry. you know i let a lot of people down i let you guys down and it sucks, because the person that you guys have heard in those videos and those tweets.. thats not me. Um i mean it is me, but i know im not that person. I can be better than that. You know i love you guys and you know those people are my friends even though apparently i’ve done some really horrible things and i don’t want that to be my legacy i don’t want that to be how im remembered you know. But i messed up! I really did I fucked up. And i’m genuinely sorry about that and to Alex and Johnnie and Jordan and Kyle and Damon and Drake and all these people that you know i guess not i guess that i know that i handled things poorly im sorry i really am and i know i can’t change everything at this point but you know at the very least i can say that im gonna do better for you guys and for me because again i don’t want this to be how im remembered. You know because i don’t know i know you guys have seen all these, EUGUGHFH excuse me! Gonna talk i’m trying to talk here! But um you guys know me to an extent and you guys know that i care about people you know that i’ve done a lot of nice things for people, I know that johnnie said in his video that he doesn’t see any good in me but he knows that’s not true. You know i’ve done some things that i wish i could change but, He knows i care about him and damon you know even tho things are bad right now he knows that ive still been a friend to him and ive encouraged him when he’s struggling you know its just i could make a i could go through the list but um, Im not just a bad person you know there’s good in me too and i guess i’ll just have to prove that so. Anyway i just wanted to say that im gonna do better and i know that a lot of people probably won’t give me another chance but you know all i can say is that im gonna try. and again im sorry so um.. im gonna do my best. that’s all i can say so love you guys and um im gonna probably take a break from the internet for a little bit but ill see you guys soon.

[classicalshorts]

Paint it NERO!

No, nothing to do with the emperor who fiddled while Rome burnt. This is the final entry in the Cool Colours series on words that English derived from Latin and Greek colour words. So, tonight, you guessed it, we are going to PAINT IT BLACK! (yes, I am a Stones fan!).

Okay, we start with Latin. I am going to take a slightly different approach tonight and look at how the Latin for black (niger, nigra, nirgum) evolved into different modern European languages. These are all called the 'Romance' languages, but nothing to with love. It is because they derive from the language of the Romans. The most similar to the Latin original are the Poruguese, Spanish, and Romanian:

Spanish: negro, negra Portuguese: negro, negra Romanian: negru

The main change is that the 'i' in the Latin has changed to an 'e'. Note how Spanish and Portuguese have retained the masculine and feminine endings -o, and -a. The neuter (the '-um' in Latin) has disappeared.

Now, French and Italian represent interesting and slightly different example of linguistic evolution.

French: noir, noire Italian: nero, nera

Once again, we see the masculine and feminine endings remain, but slightly different. The 'g' of the Latin has disappeared. This is not unheard of ease of pronunciation or pleasure of sound may explain this; the harder sound is dropped over time to leave the more pleasant, gentler nero, for example. In French, nigro (Latin ablative) became noir, a word still visibly connected to it Latin roots, just altered.

However, there may be something a little more complicated, but very, very interesting. Now, Latin is not the only ancient Italian language. Some of its own words come from these, or have combined as language evolves. And there are even examples where these non-Latin Italian languages have bequeathed us fascinating derivatives in their own right.

One of these languages was Umbrian, spoken by the central Italian peoples and closely connected to Oscan (more about these in a later post). In Umbrian, the word for black or dark seems to have been niru, very similar to modern French and Italian. This leaves us with questions. Was the Umbrian word the principal parent word of the French and Latin for black? Or did it combine with Latin as it evolved? Latin and Umbrian were likely connected either by Umbrian bequesting to Latin or via a connection to a mutual parent.

Isn't language amazing? Such a rich legacy from a famous ancient language, and one that has almost been forgotten.

So, now to Greek. Are you feeling a little down or sad? If so, you may be said to be feeling melancholy, in other words (and rather less poetically), you have a touch of black bile. The word comes from Greek as follows:

μελας, μελαινα, μελαν - black, dark

χολή - bile

So how do we get from black bile to a feeling of sadness? This goes back to ancient Greek medical theory. The theory of the four humours, an early holistic approach to understanding the funcitoning of the body and disease, often attributed to medical writer and thinker Hippocrates (yep, author of the oath which doctors still pledge allegiance to). The 'humours' corresponded to the four fluids of the body, of which black bile was one, accounting for certain diseases, but also feeling low. What a rich cultural history finding its origins in the early days of science?

And so, this article brings my series on Cool Colours, modern words from ancient Latin and Greek (primarily) for colour. I hope you have enjoyed it.

If you would like more content like this (language related) or would like more stuff generally about the ancient world and how it relates to our own, please DM me.

See you in my next series, whatever that may be!

[bwobgames]

Previous First

"You don't remember this, but last time we were here, you killed me!

It was incredible! I didn't know you had it in you!

It's what I've been looking for all along

Someone just like me.

And that's when I knew I've been wrong this whole time! Your traitor of a brother doesn't deserve my legacy. You do.

And to think I wanted a boy when all this time you were all I needed"

"...Congratulations on growing past your sexist views, I guess"

"I know, I know. Im a total supporter of women's rights now"

"So... what do you want from me? To kill you again?"

"Haha, no"

"I want you to join me"

"What...?"

"Oh, it would be great! A father-daughter business.

You would have everything you'd want! Money, connections, influence,

Haunted houses

I know you like those!

I know I've havent been the most attentive father in the world, yes, yes

But that can change now! I love you, my daughter! Let's be together forever!"

"... You cannot be serious"

"Oh, I am

In fact, if you go with me, you can leave this place.

With only one death in your pocket! How lucky is that?

Don't you want it?"

Nadia stares in silence

"Um, Nadia"

"We're not going to judge you no matter what decision you make, okay?

There's nothing wrong with wanting out of this as quick as possible"

"I will judge you. But I know you're not stupid enough to actually agree"

"Ángel that is not reassuring, we're going for reassuring here"

"We are?"

"I know you don't want to hear this, Nadia, but you are a child, and you don't deserve to be in a place like this"

"I mean, you could go get help"

"No, she can't!"

"This doesn't seem like a healthy father daughter relationship to me"

"That's just because you dont have children, my friend"

"... shut up, both of you"

"I know what I'm doing"

"That's my girl!"

"Die"

"But, before that. I need to ask"

"Why do you want me to care for your company? I thought it was your pride and joy"

"Ah, that's pretty simple"

"It's because I'll stay here!"

"Here?"

"Yes, in this house"

"Once all of you leave, I'll stay.

Of course, I'll still manage some of my companies and do projects. Technology is full of wonders! I'll be able to do anything I want from here

And never leave"

"...Because of the death loop?"

"Exactly! Who could've thought you actually had a brain

I'll stay here forever, until the end of times

I will never die

So I'll have all the time in the world to do anything! Isn't that wonderful

But I still need an agent on site, you know? That's where you come in, Nadia!

You'll be my little clone, doing things in the dangers of the outside while I stay here!

Forever"

"If you do a good enough job, I could invite you to live here as well! Ah, but you need to have children, okay? Even if it's adopted ones. We need to keep the lineage going!"

"You are so stupid"

"... Excuse you?"

"You are throwing your life away, forever isolated in the snow.

Can't you see how stupid is that?"

"...I didn't ask for life advice, Mr. Detective. Please learn your place"

"Not only that, you're giving your life away to a haunted house

There are things at play here that you don't understand. That no one understands.

And you think you can just toy with them however you like? It's ridiculous!

There's so many things about this house that are still a mystery! The amount of uncertainty around its time looping mechanism is going to kill you!

Can't you see how stupid you're being right now?"

"Houses like these should be destroyed"

Uh oh, that was a bad thing to say

Eugene gets closer

He looks angry

"There's no uncertainties about the mechanics

All I've learned, is through practice

You didn't think you all were the first people I've killed here, did you?

I've learned everything there is to know about this house

And I'll keep on experimenting, I'll keep on finding out

That's what should be done with these houses. There's so much to obtain from them"

"But I'm sure you don't know anything about that.

All you do is destroy them."

He's looking directly into Beebo's eyes

"I do, and I'd do it again

To every haunted house in existence

I'd destroy them all"

Things get physical very quickly

"You are so fucking full of yourself. You didn't think for a second what that house could offer you, didn't you? You are the stupid one here, refusing to look farther than your own fucking nose!"

"You don't understand! That place was dangerous! This place is dangerous! If it wasn't for me, you would've died ages ago!

You should be thanking me with all your heart for destroying that hell building, I saved your life!"

"You didn't save shit, fucking coward"

"You are not living here. You are being eaten."

"Stop being stupid and realize this is not something you should play around with!"

"I am going to take out your eyes, and make you eat them"

"Get away from him"

Ángel has his pocket knife drawn and pointed directly to Coli's neck

"Or what? You'll kill me? Are you that eager for your boytoy to forget you again?"

"I can stab you without killing you"

"Oh? Are you sure this is what you want to do? I had a great time practicing stabs to the heart. And a great subject right here"

He grabs Oliver tighly

Oliver feels his chest start to hurt

He tries his best to subdue his growing panic

"Án- Hey, Ángel. It's okay, back out"

"I will hunt you down to the end of times. No house will save you"

"I'm sure that would work great for you"

"I've made my decision"

They all look towards Nadia

"Will you three behave like adults now?"

"Anything for you dear"

Eugene drops Beebo

Oliver and Ángel go towards Nadia, shielding her

"Oliver is right. While I'm certainly interested in these houses, they are not something to be played with

I dont know what power outside our comprehension gives them these abilities, but I know there must be consequences we don't know about

To live in such uncertainty, it's not something I want

Nor is it to completely devote my life to becoming a clone of you, for you to use around and throw to situations you are too much of a coward to face on your own.

You are not living, you never were.

You never cared to look around and appreciate everything you had, everything you'd managed to get.

And now you are becoming a hermit, forever

What's the point of an eternity like that?

I am not like you, not at all

I actually care about people. And people care about me too

I am not your blood, I am Nina's blood

So, kill me all you want. It won't change my mind"

"You talk just like your mother, all business like

It's something I always admired about her

Her capacity to remain logical in times of high pressure"

"It's a shame she's going to die!"

"Wait, no!"

Oliver and Ángel run towards Eugene

They know this is their only chance

"We'll see each other again. I'm sure you'll change your mind eventually.

We have all the time in the world"

He clicks the button

They hear an explosion

Oliver remembers something

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 123 - Feels Like Home

It's a new day in the Lemon house and Ophelia makes lunch while Xander plays with the kids.

She's enjoying her hiatus. She's making good money from royalties, plus she can still perform at The Lemon Drop when she wants to. Her boss is really flexible 😉

Meanwhile, the kids are deciding what to play.

Gemma: We can play pretend in my tent! Daddy's real good at playin' pretend.

Huh? Since when do daddies play pretend? Daddies just do paperwork and scold you. Jaden's a little confused. Everything is so different here.

Xander: You're the guest, carrot top. Whatever you want, we'll do.

Jaden quickly gets over his aversion. Guess there are different kinds of daddies. This one's a fun daddy!

Jaden: Play tent!

Xander: Alright, hop in!

This might look like a play tent, but it's actually a spaceship! Gemma's walking on the moon and Jaden is on the lookout for aliens.

Looks like Xander will be playing the role of alien today.

I'll give him this, Xander is a very convincing alien.

Xander: OOGA BOOGA BOOGA!

The kids squeal, scurrying out of their ship. Not the best move to avoid space aliens, gang. Gemma gets attacked by the alien! Looks pretty fun, if you ask me.

Jaden watches in awe as Xander spins and throws Gemma around. It looks like they're having a lot of fun playing together. Jaden can never get his daddy to play with him. Gemma's daddy seems to actually enjoy it, too.

After Xander sets his daughter down, he sees Jaden timidly approaching him.

Jaden: Um, Mr. Xander, could I be 'tacked by space aliens too?

Xander lets out a chuckle. He's a little out of breath but how can he say no to that face?

Xander: Of course, bud.

Jaden: Yay!

The two start roughhousing just in time for Ophelia to come out and check on them. Jaden's shrieks of joy warm her heart. It's better than his shaky little sobs yesterday. They always liked Jaden, but spending more time with him, he's really toddled his way into their hearts.

Jaden wants to hear a story, but Gemma's too fired up from playing to sit still. She runs around the house while Jaden sits quietly and listens to Ophelia read him the book he picked out. They've got lots of princess books here. What his parents don't know won't hurt them...

fter story time, Jaden meets Gemma back upstairs in the playroom.

Gemma: Wanna play food truck? I'll be the cook an' you can be my cus'mer!

Jaden: Okay! Donut, please!

Gemma pulls out a plastic donut, whacks it around with her spoon and serves it to Jaden. Order up!

After pretend-eating the donut, Jaden sees Lulu crawl in.

Jaden: Hi, Lulu!

Someone's grumpy she's not getting enough screentime.

Jaden tries to do a silly dance to cheer her up but our girl is NOT impressed.

Jaden, ever the people pleaser, keeps trying though. Eventually, Lulu stops being such a fuss-butt and giggles, waving at this funny little redhead. I knew you couldn't resist his charms for long!

Lulu's probably being a grouch because it's her bedtime.

Ophelia: Alright, guys, you've got 30 more minutes before it's time to get ready for bed, okay?

Gemma: Awww. Okaaaaay.

Jaden: Okay, Miss Lia.

Chef Jaden decides to play kitchen before bedtime. His pancake dinner might have a crayon in it, but that just gives it texture! Gemma decides to get a ride in on her rocking horse, since EA doesn't let toddlers interact with real horses.

Jaden doesn't have the words to process it, but he envies Gemma. She has it good here, and getting a taste of that has made him so happy. He wishes his parents were like hers, but he plans on enjoying every second while he can. For the first time, he feels… safe.

[senditcolton]

A Real Fucking Legacy

summary: you met Joel by accident at a party one night. afterwards, your connection grew into something... something that has never been defined. 

songs: X X  word count: 3.5k warnings: smut and unresolved angst! flashbacks in italics!!

You watch as the flashing red lights shine through your windows and onto your ceiling, the sound of the car driving past the only noise in the late night.

You could not fall asleep. Nothing you did, nothing you tried, seemed to make sleep come faster. Instead, you were passing the time tossing and turning in your sheets, staring up as the lights from the city painted the white ceiling above you.

Why couldn’t you close your eyes and fall into dreamland? The answer to that was easy for you to decipher.

It was because of him.

The party was loud. That was the simplest way to describe it as you weaved through the press of bodies in the living room of the unfamiliar house. Why were you here? You had no clue. An acquaintance of yours threw the invitation into your work group chat, inviting everyone to their friend’s party. And for some reason, you decided to come. Just to get out of your house. And it was nice but man, it was crowded.

That was the only thought in you mind as you push through the bodies, moving stealthily to escape the heat and claustrophobia. You were doing a pretty good job of it until someone jostled your body and threw you into the tall frame of another, causing the glass of red wine in the stranger’s hand to slip from and spill all over your pale green t-shirt.

“Oh shit, fuck, I am so sorry,” you hear the stranger say, his hand flailing around you as you stand there in shock. “Are you okay? I am really sorry.”

“I’m – I’m fine, thanks,” you say, shaking the lingering liquid off your skin, trying to fight off the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks at the attention your mishap was drawing. “No worries, could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Yeah, sure, I guess, but I’m seriously really sorry. Here – um – follow me,” he continues, taking your hand in his before you even had time to respond and tugging you through the crowd, up the staircase and pulling you along before he opens up a door, escorting you into what appeared to be the master bedroom. The hubbub of this entire affair has left your mind reeling so much that you let him continue to pull you along. He doesn’t let go of you until you are in the master bathroom, where he drops your hand to grab a washcloth, running it under cold water before handing it to you.

“For your shirt, uh, to try and clean it,” he explains and you gingerly take it from him.

“Thank you,” you reply, wiping the stain on the fabric, watching as it seems to dissipate but feeling your shirt get more sodden. The stranger is still awkwardly standing across from you, watching you work for a few moments before disappearing through another door. You don’t pay it much mind, confused about the progression of these events anyway. He eventually reappears with something in his hand.

“Here. It’s a clean – dry – shirt for you.”

“Do you just, spill your drinks on people and then steal shirts from random closets?”  

“Well, it’s my closest so… I’m not technically stealing,” he explains, a crooked grin appearing on his face.

“Oh,” you say softly, unfolding the washcloth and hanging over the towel rack to dry. “Well, I can’t accept that. I’ve already caused you too much trouble.”

“First off, it was my fault,” he replies, his voice light. “And second, you have to.”

“I have to?” you question. “And why is that?”

“Because, how else am I supposed to see you again? If you have my shirt…” You can’t stop the surprised laugh that falls from you.

“Is this your go-to method for flirting? Spilling your drink on people and forcing them to accept your shirt so they have to call you back?”

“Well, if it works, I might have to add it into my repertoire,” he laughs back.

You are not blind to the fact that this could have been weird, maybe even creepy if it happened with anyone else. But with him, it was clear that he was just trying to be nice, adding a bit of humor into an otherwise embarrassing moment. You still let him sweat it out a little bit, making him stand there with the shirt extended awkwardly before you take it from his hand with a smile. He smiles back at you, a sparkle in his eyes.

“I’m Joel, by the way.”

Looking back, you wouldn’t have thought that that night was going to be the source of all your troubles, turmoil and tears. Because at the beginning of your time with Joel, it felt good. It felt right. It felt easy.

The sound of your combined laughter bounced off the vaulted ceilings of Joel’s empty living room, the noise of it drowning out the vinyl of The Lumineers Cleopatra currently spinning on repeat. The weight and warmth of his hands feel nice as they caress the skin around your ankles while you lay back with your feet in his lap, the soft material of the rug pressing against your shoulder blades.

You stay relaxed in that position for a moment before you feel a cool glass press against your thigh. Lifting your head, you see Joel extending the bottle of rose to you, already half-drunk. You raise your torso, leaning back on one of your hands while the other takes the wine from him, lifting the bottle to your lips as you take a sip.

While you drink, you watch as Joel takes a look around the room, his eyes blinking a few times in confusion. You wait for him to look back to you with that adorable eyebrow furrow.

“Wait,” he says. “How the fuck did we end up on the floor anyway?”

“You really have to ask?” you reply as you wave the wine bottle in the air between the two of you.

“I suppose your right,” he laughs, watching you as you take another swig from under hooded eyes. “It’s nice though.”

You hum before turning your body, not getting up but stretching towards the small end table, attempting to place the wine safely on top. You are aware of Joel’s hands still on you and you falter for a moment when you feel his hands creep up the back of your calves and you can’t stop the soft gasp that falls from you as you feel his fingers just barely graze just millimeters from your inner thighs. You flip you head back to him, the questioning grin on your face to which Joel just responds with smile of his own.

This continues until you finally spin back to your original position, propped up on your elbows with your feet in his lap.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you tease, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Nothing,” he replies, his fingers still tracing shapes on your legs. “Just admiring how soft your skin is.”

Another hum comes from you as you look at him, trying to decide how you wanted this to go. But the palpable energy surging between the two of you makes your choice simple. You reach down towards his hands, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and slowly, deliberately, pulling his hand up, letting his fingers dance across your thighs, your hips, your waist. You continue the journey until his fingers are just grazing your collarbones, neck, jaw, until you bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing kisses onto each of his fingertips.

Joel keeps his eyes locked on you as he watches your movements, allowing you take the lead. But as soon as you kiss his thumb and let it gently pull your bottom lip down, your grip releasing his wrist as you graze your own hand down his forearm, his composure finally snaps. You gasp as his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you forward as his other hand pulls one of your feet out of his lap, opening your legs so he can slot himself between them. You fall backward, letting Joel’s body weight cover you. He leans in, pulling your face even closer to his until your foreheads are touching.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, breaths intermingling, almost daring the other to make the first move.

In the end, it didn’t matter because it seemed as if the both of you surged forward at the same time, your lips clashing together. Your arms found their place around his shoulders, hands nestling into your hair as you tug him impossibly closer. His own hands pull you closer as well, the one on your neck still pressing you tugging you towards him while the other grazes down your side, sneaking under the hem of your t-shirt, his hips rolling against yours exquisitely.

You were so caught up in the feeling of him that the rest of the world faded away. So much so that you didn’t hear the cautious warning playing from the speakers.

“Heaven help the fool who falls in love.”

That memory heats up your skin as you sigh back into your pillow, the hours still passing as your mind replays the moments that you two shared. You would be lying to yourself if you said some of these sleepless nights were caused by those specific memories; the ones that made your heart race and your body keen. But that could have easily been blamed on the fact that so many sleepless nights with him were the source of many of those moments.

You were up late waiting for Joel to come over.

He had texted you after the game, wanting to see you and you didn’t even have to ask why. You had been watching. And it was rough for all the Canadiens but especially for Joel, who seemed to get called for every penalty (sometimes justified, sometimes not) which lead to multiple powerplay goals by the Canucks and eventually a 5-1 loss.

You reclined in your bed, the comforter pulled over you as you mindlessly scroll through your social media feed while you wait. It isn’t long until you hear the front door open and you manage to place your phone onto your nightstand as soon as Joel steps into your bedroom.

He doesn’t say a word before he is striding over to you, grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to kiss you: deeply, desperately. You respond in kind, arching up to meet him as your lips and tongues continue to dance against each other. Joel’s hands fall from your face as he hastily pulls away the sheets, exposing your body to the cool air. You gladly let him, tugging similarly at the fabric of the t-shirt that covers his frame. He breaks from the kiss to rip the material away before leaning back down, his lips now attaching to your neck, slowly moving down.

Pausing at your collarbone to mark your skin, you whine, arching your body to get closer to him, relishing the feeling of his hands sneaking up underneath your oversized sleep shirt to graze against your ribcage, his fingers brushing against the delicate sensitive skin of your breasts. It feels heavenly but you want more, your body rolling with your silent request.

Joel picks up on it easily, his hands falling from your chest down your hips until he finally places one between your open thighs, groaning against your neck when he feels the wetness of your pussy underneath your underwear. He presses his fingers against your slit, causing the damp patch to bloom across the soft cotton as your hips buck up to meet him, needing him to remove that final barrier between you two.

He obliges, hand raising only to grip the waistband and pull the fabric down your legs before his fingers return, sliding up and down your folds, collecting your slick before pressing into you. You let out a soft moan as his fingers move within you, thrusting at a deep and leisurely pace, spreading you open. Your head is spinning from the motion of his hand alone that you don’t even register the rest of his body moving downwards until your feel his plush lips connect with your clit.

The moans that escape you get louder as his tongue moves in tandem with his fingers, circling around your clit as your hand reaches down to tangle in his hair. Your hips absentmindedly aid in him in his movements, grinding up to make his fingers go even deeper. It isn’t long until the dizzying sensation of his mouth and hands brings to your peak, your body stiffening as your orgasm rushes through you.

Joel slows his movements, helping you come down before he disappears from between your thighs. Your eyes are heavy from the haze of your post-orgasm but you still manage to look up at him, watching as he shucks off his athletic shorts, leaving him bare before you. He slowly climbs over you, capturing your mouth in a gentle kiss before breaking away again. You feel his hands tug at your hips, encouraging you to turn over onto your hands and knees.

You respond quickly to his silent request, settling yourself into this new position; your chest against the sheets, your hips up in the air. It doesn’t take long before you feel Joel hard against you, whimpering as he rubs the head of his cock down your pussy a few times, collecting the lingering wetness from your previous orgasm before sliding into you.

You moan into the pillow as he begins a slow pace, practically grinding into you, making you feel him deeper than you thought possible. Eventually, his pace quickens, pulling delectable sounds from your throat as he fucks you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You relax against the sheets, happy to let him take what he needs, relishing in the sensation of his hard cock sliding against your walls.

The gasp that falls from your lips is involuntary as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your torso up off the bed and holding you against him, your back to his chest as he groans in your ear, lips attaching to the column of your neck. You writhe within his grasp as this new position allows him to graze your g-spot with every thrust, the sensation heightened when he spreads his hand across your lower stomach and presses down, causing your pussy to flutter and clench around him. It only takes a few more thrusts before Joel hits his peak, his teeth grazing over the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he moans against your skin. It is that combination of feelings that pushes you over the edge as well, tightening around him, your thighs quivering with the effort of remaining upright.

You relax against Joel’s chest, his muscular arm still wrapped around your waist as you both catch your breath, his lips coming to press against your temple. Eventually, you two untangle from each other, taking time to clean up before you are collapsing back into bed together, your head resting against his chest, his fingers brushing up and down your side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask him, your soft voice breaking through the night.

“Not tonight.” You respond with an understanding hum, curling deeper into his side. The two of you lay there silently for a moment before you look up at him.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, calling his attention back to you, “I think you are an amazing person.”

Joel doesn’t respond but in the miniscule light creeping in from your windows, you can see his lips curl in a smile before he is pulling your face up to his.

And you can’t ignore the fluttering of your heart as he kisses you. Like he loves you.

From anyone else’s point of view, the dappled light on your ceiling hasn’t changed at all. But you knew it had. You had been watching the shadows move and stretch as the hours pass with no reprieve in sight. You hated how much he haunted you. Hated that you could pinpoint where it went wrong. Hated that a part of you still blamed yourself for how it ended.

Your let out a gasp, your body collapsing against the sheets as you relax your shaking muscles, your throat dry from calling our Joel’s name. You hear his own sheets rustle through the speaker of your phone, his breathing coming in ragged pants. Once your heart stops threatening to beat out of your chest, you reach across the bedspread, taking your phone off speaker and holding it to your ear.

“Fuck, that was – mmm,” Joel says on the other end of the line, still trying to form coherent sentences.

“Yeah, it was,” you giggle, earning a small chuckle from Joel in response. The silence stretches in between you two, feeling almost as far as the distance from Montreal to Florida where he was currently, calling you instead of going out with his teammates to celebrate their win. It made you feel special.

And perhaps that feeling was what fueled your next words.

“Hey Joel,” you say, hearing a quiet hum from him in acknowledgement. “What are we?”

“What do you mean?” he says, his voice strangely non-committal. The minute you sense that in his tone, your brain screams at you to back off. But your heart needs to know so you press forward.

“I mean, like, are we dating? Are we friends with benefits? Am I just a booty call? I – I just want to know,” you continue, your voice becoming a little unsteady. “Because, I um… I like you. A lot and um, I just want to know how you feel about me.”

If there was silence before, it has now multiplied ten-fold, weighing heavy and oppressive over you as you wait for a response. You hear him heave a sigh and you swear you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you listen for his next words. And you feel it drop into your stomach when Joel does speak.

“Babe, it’s um – it’s late,” he begins and you sit up in your bed, pulling the covers tightly around your body. “And uh, I’m not sure we should be having this conversation over the phone.”

“Yeah,” you say, slightly shaking your head. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Sorry.”

“Hey, I promise, we’ll talk when I get back to Montreal, alright?”

“Alright, that sounds good,” you say, your eyes blinking rapidly as tears start to well without your permission, your brain yelling at you for saying too much.

“Okay. Good night.”

“Night.”

That was the last time you talked to Joel.

He ghosted you. Completely and utterly ghosted you. When he flew back to Montreal after that night, he didn’t reach out to you at all, not even some cheap throwaway text message saying you were through. You sent him a few messages, called him a few times just trying to connect with him even for a moment but after getting no response at all, your contact started to fade until you stopped trying.

Instead, you started trying to forget him.

That’s what you were doing currently, lying awake in your bed, watching as your bedside clock changes, displaying the row of numbers reading 3am. You were trying to forget him. But it wasn’t working. Three months of no-contact, three months of attempting to push him out of your mind and it wasn’t working. You still woke up with the memory of him hanging over you.

Another breath of a sigh escapes you as you grab your phone from the nightstand, pulling up his number, the one that you knew you should have deleted long ago but just didn’t have the heart to. Before you could even process what you were doing, you were hitting the call button, holding the device up to your ear and listening to it ring.

You get his voicemail, exactly what you were expecting to receive and you listen to his message, not able to stop a smile from appearing at the sound of his voice. The harsh tone comes and you pause, trying to piece your words together.

“Hey, Joel, it’s um – it’s me. I, uh, I don’t really know why I’m calling. I guess I just, um,” you sigh, sniffling quietly as you fight back the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes. “I, uh –” you breathe, a hand running through your hair. “I miss you.”

You let the words linger for a moment before you sniff again, clearing your throat before continuing.

“So, yeah I gue- I guess that’s it. Um… sorry for calling you so late and I um, I – yeah. G’night.”

You quickly hang up the phone, placing face down on your nightstand before burrowing deeper under your covers, a few tears slipping from your eyes and down your cheeks. The exhaustion finally and blissfully catches up to you as you manage to fall into a deep and dreamless slumber. You don’t wake up until the sun is high in the sky, not even when your phone buzzes with the notification of a text message coming through.

Joel I miss you too. Message received on March 23rd at 6:57am

SIGN UP FOR MY TAGLIST HERE

[malachitegrey]

tagged by @hakunahistata, thank you my friend!

How many works do you have on ao3?

20, but seven of those were written by @voluptatiscausa

What's your total ao3 word count?

125,289, which again counts the stuff vol wrote.

What fandoms do you write for?

Good Omens, and also technically Kushiel's Legacy, although I'm mostly just making stuff up in that one now. My AO3 also has one or two X-Files and Sherlock fics.

Top five fics by kudos:

once again, skipping over the ones written by vol...

float around your tongue

A le Tue Creature Dài Sustentamento

On-the-Job Conflict Resolution Starts With YOU!

Serpent's Eye

Be My Trellis

Do you respond to comments?

yes! this is not a heavy workload!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

you know, for all the angst i do write, most of my stuff actually does have a soft resolution at the end. the angstiest is probably electricity and starlight and even that is kind of a resolution? if you consider "kill your illusions" a resolution!

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

possibly We Yield Old Woe, which was designed to have a satisfying ending, or maybe Be My Trellis?

Do you get hate on fics?

not directly!

Do you write smut?

sometimes! i'm still learning.

Craziest crossover:

my only crossover is Serpent's Eye but as far as i know it is the only crossover between these fandoms so i guess that's crazy?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that i know of!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have not! vol's Fridge Poem Ficlets include poems by me but that's the closest.

All time favorite ship?

obviously going very hard for aziraphale/crowley right now and MSR will always have a place in my heart.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i'm not jinxing anything but there are a few things in my WIP folder that are extremely short and I can't remember what I was doing with them.

What are your writing strengths?

um. vibes? emotional gut punches?

What are your writing weaknesses?

p l o t

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i have written some! in What Can Be Trapped Under Glass.

First fandom you wrote in?

terrible X-Files fic i submitted for a contest when i was about 15

Favorite fic you've written?

A le Tue Creature Dài Sustentamento

everyone i know has been tagged already so if you're reading this, consider yourself tagged!

[1358456]

Generation IX Pokemon Nicknames, Part 2

Continuing!

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

A toxic seed that's made of stone? Hmm. Kind of looks like a Shelgon without limbs. And blue. "Bluegone". It's blue, and its limbs are gone.

Huh, a skeletal dog with a tombstone on its head. It actually looks pretty cool. Kind of like a Cuphead enemy. "Tombhead".

A flamingo without the n. "Anti Plasma". It really doesn't like N.

... What is that? It has a lot of HP, but the worst defensive typing ever. I can't see me making one.

Carvanha-esque fish. ... Ehn, its stats are pretty bad, so I doubt I would ever make one.

Whiscash-esque fish. Dondozo, huh? The name reminds me of Yakuza 8's Dondoko Island. So... "Trash Pirate".

This tiny fish had oddly high stats. Why. I'll call this "Sushi Gin", the restaurant that you go to in MANY Yakuza games. I think it actually exists in Kabukicho?

Undead Primeape? Looks more like an undead Mankey "Ex-Mankey".

... Huh. So instead of Alola forms of Kanto Pokemon, we have... whatever this is of Johto Pokemon? Well, if I never made a Quagsire or a Girafarig... And Dunsparce came back because why not.

Huh, a Bisharp evolution. That's cool. From a Pawn to a Bishop, to a King. ... Isn't that a demotion, given chess rules? At least it makes my nicknames for this thing pretty easy. It'll be whatever my Bisharps are named, except... I would need to re-RNG them. "Promotion" and "Centurion".

... Um... huh? These all have the same Ability, but... they're just monster versions of existing Pokemon? ... ??? Well, I guess the nicknames are pretty straight forward. From the top, "Nahpnod", "Ffupylggij", "Sugnooma", "Suigamsim", "Anoraclov", and "Notengam".

... The hell? These are just... robotic versions of existing Pokemon? These are like the Purifier variants of regular Protoss units in Legacy of the Void. Hmm. Well, I can't give unique names to each of these like the Purifier faction units, so... from the top, "Mechaphan", "Delibot", "Harifier", "Hydragoon", "V-07-CAR-0N4", and "Robotar". ... Hydragoon sounds like a Hydralisk crammed inside a Dragoon chassis...

Hm. So the base 600 total non-Legendary is once again a Dragon type. Dragon/Ice, eh? Hmm... I wonder if a Dex Holder team overhaul is in order... Baxcalibur, the Dragon/Ice typed Ice Dragon Pokemon. ... Then its name must be "Dragon Ice". Dragon Ice the Dragon/Ice typed Ice Dragon Pokemon.

... "Coinstring", because that thing looks like the Cheesestring mascot, but it's made of coins.

Huh, so these must be the region's trio/quartet. Why the Chinese sounding names? Isn't Generation IX supposedly to be based on Spain? I still rarely name Legendary Pokemon, so... none for now.

More of these weird monster/mecha variants. Monsters get the names of "Ecnemalas" and "Enucius", and the mechs get "Gallade 3.0" and "V.1r1 Zion".

I assume these are the version mascot Legendary Pokemon. Hmm... I have no nicknames for these.

Huh. Apple Dragon. Why are these two so far apart in Dex number? Grass/Dragon so it gets annihilated by the Dragon type's classic weakness of Ice, eh? Well, if I had to give it a name, I would call it "Invaluable". Fits the Apple Dragon quite well. Apple, because of who sings the song "The Invaluable" and in what album, and Dragon because it's the ending song of Yakuza 8, or Like a Dragon 8.

... "Mugman".

... Is that another trio in the same region? Hmm...

Huh. There's... a lot of text associated with this one. I ain't reading all that. It's a Mask Pokemon. Okay. I have nothing.

Huh. Another base stat 600 total non Legendary, and another Dragon at that. It's a... bridge dragon. ... I got nothing good.

More monsters and robots. Well, there was a monster Suicune, so get the monster Raikou and Entei here... in reverse order because why not (Dex goes Raikou, Entei, then Suicune). And there was that robot Virizion, so get Cobalion and Terrakion in here... also in reverse order (Cobalion, Terrakion, then Virizion). ... F*ck Keldeo, I guess. So from the top, "Ietne", "Uokiar", "Robokion", and "Carbot". I was going to say "Cobot", but that sounded like Carbot, so... Carbot it is, from Carbot Animations. ... What is with this generation and knock off copies of existing Pokemon?

So we have a gem-turtle, then we have a roadkill form, and then a... er... Gigantamax form where the turtle stands on top of its roadkill form that's above a Protoss Plasma Shield flare... ... bwuh? That's a fancy ass turtle, so I'll give it the name of... "Gemtle". The most non-fancy name there is.

Last one! ... A peach seed Pokemon, eh? ... It has base stat 88 across the board except Def, which is at 160. Hm... that's... pretty mediocre. Not bad, but... not amazing. ... I got nothing super creative. So "Poison Seed" it is.

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

Whew. That's all of them. There was a lot more than I thought there'd be. And I guess it's pretty hard to come up with a suitable nickname for Pokemon in a game that I will never have and don't want.

Given the sheer number of monsters and robots, you'd think the game's region was based on Tokyo and not Spain.

Now, the Baxcalibur and Archaludon are the only base stat total 600 non Legendary that I did not yet give to a Dex Holder in overhaul posts, in my mission to give each one to a Dex Holder. Obviously the overhaul posts only matter in whatever short story I make that uses Pokemon, but... I might as well see that mission through. ... But who...

[toranekooo]

hai :3 ambrose directed me to you so. please tell me about lip/hiyo i love drama and discourse so much (non forcing btw)

みなさん、おはこんばんちわ !! my name is ess but u can call me vyn, maiko or secchan~ and i will be your announcer for today <3 ! today we will be discussing why i dislike lip/hiyo ! this is gonna contain a lot of buffers so i dont get caught up in the tags or the search results so um. im sorry if its a pain to read. please be warned these are MOSTLY personal opinions and i don't intend on infringing on ppl who do ship it. i do not care. simply DONT tag my shit as it and we're good ^_^ except ppl dont listen and i find it fucking annoying so. here's a full blown explanation i guess

first ! lip.hiyo is a ship between hi.yori su.zumi and the members of lipx.lip ai.zo and yu.jiro . hiyo/ri is their manager and she's a girl from the countryside who moved to tokyo to study and work on becoming a track and field athelete . lipx/lip are themselves. their relationship in canon is. friends at best. something else at worst. being the little shits they are, lip/lip are nothing short of assholes to hiyo.ri for the majority of their earlier canon interactions. she states multiple times in her stories that they make her feel stupid. while i do think they respect and care for each other as coworkers, i still dislike how they treat her as a person, especially how they put down her feelings. before and after her.oiku where hiyo.ri undergoes a transformation courtesy of lx.l dressing her up so she can confess to another member of the idol series, asu.ka kai.do (discontinued due to the collaborative project ending) — they continue to tell her that had it not been for the pretty dress or the makeup, she wouldn't be worthy of being called a heroine. she wouldn't be a "girl" in their eyes. which is where a lot of the ships stem from.

but wait! you're probably asking yourself, or well, me: "secchan-sensei! lipx.lip bully each other a whole damn lot too! they bicker and they insult each other! wouldn't this put shipping them in the same category as lp/hy?" excellent question! while i understand why people can perceive it similarly, there is one big difference. the idols and hiyori exist in an unbalanced power dynamic. no i do not mean that in a literal sense, but in a social, emotional sense. you said it yourself, lip/lip bully each other! theyre mean and rude and crass and jerks to EACH OTHER. there is a back and forth movement. they bite and bite back, so to speak. while with hiy.ori as you're aware, she swallows her pain and bottles up that sadness and holds back those tears, she never responds or insults them back because she's not that kind of person. above all things, hiyori remains kind to ai and yu but the fact that they hurt her in ways they don't even acknowledge are not mutually exclusive.

if you're familiar with hone.yworks lore, as well as lx.l themselves, you probably know at least an adequate bit of their trauma. to put it simply, a.izo struggles with interacting with women, to the point where he finds them difficult to be with. this is often translated to him hating women, so as an idol with a predominantly female fanbase, this is a big problem. this trauma stems from his mother, who for the greater part of his childhood, was an abusive drunk. not only that, his older brother, whom he looked to for support and comfort when their home life was at their worst, is a playboy who toyed around with women and relationships with hopes of avoiding the loneliness at home. while ken grew out of his issues and ultimately became a better person, his actions growing up had a significant negative effect on ai.zo . he isnt jUst a miSoGyniSt dear fuck

yujiro, on the other hand, is the stepson of national treasure, tamagoro someya, a master of kabuki. his mother, tae, married into the family and he has a younger stepbrother, koichiro. tamagoro very explicitly tells him that he will not inherit the kabuki legacy, stating that he "lacks beauty" and is half-hearted. this is despite the fact that yujiro pushed himself beyond his own strength, to the point of starvation and isolation, all for the sake of pleasing his father — who never intended to acknowledge him in the first place. yujiro remained inadequate, lacking, some part of him, despite his best efforts, would never fit into the beauty of the roles his father had crafted for the stage.

“Father is father, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I think he didn’t have a choice in telling me to give up…” “…Were you never allowed to stand on the kabuki stage?” “There’s no way he would have let me. It was only my brother who could have…” (That’s really messed up…) If he had no intention of letting him perform on stage, why did he let him practice? It was cruel to put so many expectations on a child, only to rip his hope away from him. (LOVE&KISS novel, Chapter 7) [1]

how is this relevant to hiyori?

then, we talk about the infamous hero.taru anime. now, honeyw.orks anime have this curse where they're either bound to flop incredibly or butcher the characters enough it appeals to a general audience and completely destroys their characters. the hero.taru anime was made to promote lip.x.lip and profit off their popularity in the idol genre showcase hiyo.ri's heroine story. the story spans multiple mvs, from h.eroine iku.sei keikak.u -> her.oine wa hei.kin ika -> her.oine tarum.ono . there's a general difference with as.uka being cut out and replaced with nagisa after he's finally released from the honeyw.orks basement. aaand i'm getting sidetracked. as someone who watched every single anime hnw has put out, i can confidently say...

her.otaru fucking sucks.

despite being an anime centered on hiy.ori's development as a heroine, it overuses fanservice and became a cookie cutter shoujo mixed with a little idol for the views. fuck, the main conflict was literally between lip.xlip's manager and their biggest fan who had a crush on aiz.o . DO YOU SEE MY ISSUE. ok that aside. the anime completely butchers hiyo's character by making her overly dependent on lx.l. not to mention the bathroom scene. ick. the anime also completely butchers lxl by erasing their issues and making them into "just backup male leads if nag.isa doesnt sell well" and he didnt bc he was there for one fucking episode . back to my point, the anime has a particular scene pertaining to their trauma, which i have elaborately expanded above, and dumbs it down to: [2]

bad, right? not the worst butchering of it yet. you see, SOMEHOW, the herota.ru anime made the already fucked hani.wa timeline WORSE by turning yum.e fanf.are into a song about hiyori. i'm going to start tearing and biting bc this frustrated me SO MUCH . yume.fan is a song of aizo and yujiro about their struggles as stated above, and yet it was percieved as a song made to make hiyo.ri fall in love with them.

god ok this is. incredibly long at this point but i have only pierced the surface. lets just get it down to brass tacks. i hate lip.hiyo.

a lot of people came out of hero.taru shipping lip.hiyo after seeing their relationship and interactions in the anime. people tend to ship them with hiyor.i because "sHe's nOt LiKe oThER giRls" . of all the things i hate abt lip.hiyo and the hero.taru anime in general, i hate how it ruins hiyo.ri's character. i hate how they refuse to acknowledge that she enjoys feeling beautiful, she likes being a feminine, she wants to be a heroine — her issues don't lie in her not being beautiful enough to fit in the heroine mold, but the fact that she can be heroine, regardless of how she perceives herself!

well, introspective reasons aside, i hate the ship on a personal basis bc i've recently found out most ppl who ship it are pushing to make people believe it's canon ? like who the fuck does that. ONE, hiyori does have a canon love interest, nag.isa shiran.ami. TWO, they have never even remotely shown any romantic interest to her ??? well fuck i mean if you count calling her derogatory names, telling her she'll never be a girl if she doesn't dress up, or saying she'll never get a romeo if she rejects nagisa counts as flirting then sure i believe you. THREE, you can literally ship it even if it isn't canon. there is nothing stopping you??? it's giving hypocrisy bc a long loooong time ago they were mad at ai.yuu shippers for continuously mentioning their parallels and the possibility of them becoming canon and they called them [BEEEEEP] . you get the point.

negativity aside, at this point i've probably put you through a horror. sorry about that. all in all, i prefer ai.yuu and nagi.hiyo over lp/hy. i dislike het.lip in general because why would you want to inflict this upon any girl. come on. they can do better. im kidding but you get it. ai and yu trust each other more than anyone, they are canonically each other's most important person, and they are equals in persevering to achieve their dreams. THAT is what yume.fan meant [3] . and i like n.ghy bc nagi.sa has had feelings for hiyori for years, even before she dolled herself up, even before she was a manager, he fell in love with hiyori, and no one else — because in his eyes, she's always been a heroine!! "zutto heroine da" - nagi.sa in heroine wa heikin ika [4]

in case for SOME reason this isn't enough, please feel free to peruse the following posts that expand on some particular parts of this: differences between the mvs and anime | the Trauma scene | yume fan.fare's meaning | personal thoughts 1 | personal thoughts 2

CITATIONS:

[1] LOVE&KISS Chapter 7 — translation

[2] He.roine Taru.mono! Kiraware H.eroine to Naisho Os.higoto Anime Episode 4

[3] Yu.me Fan.fare by LIP.×LIP

[4] Her.oine wa Hei.kin Ika by Su.zumi Hiyo.ri (CV: Ino.ri Mi.nase)

[pinkiepiebones]

Hey! I'm still new to your blog, so apologies for not knowing this but: aside from Renfield, who are some of your favorite fictional characters?

LOL no worries. I've been here almost 13 years now (FUCK) so I don't expect anyone to be well versed in my, uh, my lore.

As for favourites, I'm kinda super fixated on Robert at the moment but I have been known to be a fan of ponies- PINKIE PIE, she's the reason for my URL!!, Felix Gaeta, Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus IV, uhhh, Jarvis, I guess (the guy from Tron: Legacy, not the Avengers guy), Will Graham, Nux, Bayonetta, Crow T Robot, um um I'm forgetting some I'm sure but. Yeah. People.