#the thing is i clearly have the ability to retain information from a book and think in depth about it

[jakeperalta]

in hindsight it is amazing that I managed to get two literature degrees because I am terrible at remembering any details of any book I read

[saintsenara]

Wait why are you not a fan of Snape and Hermione?? 2 nerds who care a socially awkward amount about the things they care about nerding out together at levels of romance people who can be chill and normal about things can’t comprehend?? It’s not one of my fav ships but I can definitely see it!

I headcanon that Snape picks on Hermione being a muggle raised know it all thirsty to prove and lacking self awareness because he was one himself when he arrived at school and James and Sirius picked on him for it! It’s like that you’re most repulsed by the things you’re self conscious of in yourself thing to me. Or maybe a him trying to live out being the “cool” one in that dynamic thing

But when she’s a grown woman and more self possessed like he became too I feel like that same energy ness has potential for love!

Hermione is famously respectful and compassionate enough towards all beings to be more understanding than say Lily Evans of his prickly tender ego if he had another m word style outburst and such a people pleaser she’d keep coming back for more snark as long as he peppered it with the odd encouraging compliment

And I feel like a Snape in reciprocated love could absolutely veer into inventing beautiful and helpful spells to impress his lover or sending “made me think of u 😘” notes with verses of elaborate obscure poetry territory that would be frankly the level of literary and academic courtship our Herms deserves 😌

Is it cause they’d both be the highly strung worrier one and they both need someone to ground them? Or maybe too pessimistic together and one of them needs to be the cheerful one?

anon, i genuinely love this for you - i'm always thrilled to get people explaining their love for ships in the ol' inbox, especially when they're ships i don't instinctively vibe with, and i have been won round to stranger premises than this by a passionate defence of why two characters should kiss.

where i still think snamione isn't clicking for me, however, is that the way you describe both snape and hermione here doesn't align in any significant way with what i personally think would be interesting to explore about either character in a relationship and have them still feel meaningfully like their canon selves.

[i will say, though - because i always think it's worth reiterating my fandom commitment towards being neither a cop nor a priest - that i literally don't give a shit about either the age gap or the student-teacher dynamic. i know that's an objection to pairings like snarry and snamione which lots of people do express. but i will never be one of them.]

the primary reason that i don't vibe with many of the more... sapiosexual hermione ships [by which i mean not only snamione but tomione] is that they hang on the idea that hermione's intellect expresses itself in a way we never actually see in canon.

or, the idea that snape and hermione are intellectually compatible [and that they would enjoy hanging out being nerdy about stuff] is just... not true.

throughout the seven-book canon, the way that hermione shows herself to be clever is that she displays an excellent memory and an enormous capacity to rote-learn. her intelligence is overwhelmingly demonstrated - both in the classroom and during the trio's year on the run - by her being able to regurgitate swathes of information, very usually verbatim from the source she got it from.

she is clearly able to use this ability to retain information to understand the theoretical component of magic in a way neither harry nor ron ever manage, and she is able to use this understanding of theory to work out how to perform spells which are ahead of her expected level on the hogwarts curriculum.

and this is intelligence - and i want to be very clear that i'm not trying to suggest that hermione shouldn't be thought of as intellectual, or that her academic achievements should be devalued. but it isn't the way snape's intelligence manifests itself.

because hermione is never shown - at any point in canon - to be a particularly creative or experimental thinker.

she places an enormous intellectual trust in disciplinary authority - teachers and textbooks - and is frequently rattled when these are revealed to be partial or incorrect, as we see in her shock at hogwarts: a history not mentioning house elves or her anger at harry getting better results by following the modified instructions in the prince's textbook [despite knowing nothing about the theory underpinning them] than she does with the "official" ones.

she also regards the gatekeeping of inquiry which disciplinary boundaries enforce to be a positive thing and she never displays any inclination to step beyond them. she dislikes the spells in the prince's textbook because they aren't ministry-approved - and i must say that i think the idea that she'd be won over by a man creating spells for her is wishful thinking...

she is immediately mistrustful of anything she can't find something she regards as an empirical source for - notice, for example, that she only comes round to the idea that prophecies might be real once she encounters them in the ministry of magic.

even when we see her using magic on her own terms - the jinx she uses on marietta edgecombe, for example; or the protean charm on the da coins - the magic she's using is sophisticated, and is being applied in a way which wouldn't be classroom-sanctioned, but it's not magic which is being used in a way which is removed from the spell's original purpose. the protean charm on the da coins is impressive because it's a flawless execution of newt-level magic by a sixteen-year-old. it's not impressive because hermione is using it in a strange, experimental, or radical way.

[in contrast, the dark mark - which harry notes the coins mimic - is clearly a spell voldemort himself invents.]

snape, on the other hand, is an experimenter. he's someone who clearly sees magic as a creative force which he has every right to shape as he sees fit by adaptation and invention. and he's someone who evidently rejects the logic of disciplinary gatekeeping - one tension in his relationship with dumbledore prior to half-blood prince is that snape evidently retains an enormous intellectual interest in the dark arts [which, as he tells us, are an area of magic which is feared precisely because they can't be neatly contained within disciplinary boxes - they are ever-changing, unfixed, mutating...]

and it's these conflicting views of what magic is and how it should be used and thought about which is the cause of the intellectual incompatibility we see between snape and hermione in canon.

he is unequivocally in the wrong for his dismissive classroom manner towards her - because he is an adult and she is a child. but he isn't wrong in principle that hermione just repeating what she's read in the textbook and refusing to synthesise her knowledge [she always goes massively over word limits! she never gives answers in class in her own words!] isn't actually a demonstration that she understands the material. [and therefore something a good teacher would guide her through conquering... snape having no interest in doing this is his own fault.]

and - from a snamione-specific perspective - it's all the evidence snape needs that, actually, they're not going to enjoy hanging out chatting about academic pursuits. hermione values knowledge like a dragon hoards treasure. snape wants to take that treasure, melt it down, and turn it into new and weird things.

once again, i don't think this a flaw in either of their characters - it's just something which is. and i don't think it's an insurmountable obstacle to writing snamione, because i believe any ship is possible if an author has enough nerve. but it's an aspect of both characters' canon personalities [and hermione's above all] which never seems to make it into snamione fics - all of which, as far as i've encountered them, are beholden to an idea of hermione's approach to academia which is considerably more flexible than we actually see in the books.

of your other points, i'm not particularly convinced by the idea that snape sees his younger self in the teenage hermione. this isn't just for the reasons outlined above - hermione isn't trying to prove herself in the same way he was, which was by creating and experimenting in a bid to be noticed and considered impressive - but also because of the massive gulf in their respective class backgrounds.

hermione is really posh - and, while she's obviously subjected to discrimination at hogwarts on account of her blood-status, she also comes from a family with both the financial resources and the cultural language to make her familiar with the vibe of the elite muggle boarding schools hogwarts is a pastiche of.

the teen snape - in contrast - stands out from his cohort in that he is visually identifiable as working-class [which does appear to be genuinely unusual at hogwarts]. his class background is something which clearly drove a lot of the marauders' bullying of him [i'm sorry to the girlies who think james and sirius targeted him out of some righteous desire to stamp out his prejudice - it was because he was poor and uncouth] and which he still has a chip on his shoulder about as an adult.

this - again - is not an insurmountable barrier to a snamione relationship [as it's not a barrier to thousands of real-world partnerships and friendships]. but it is something an author needs to grapple with if they want to make the pairing - at least, in my opinion - seem plausible. but the standard vibe seems to be that snape would be comfortable in the grangers' home fairly quickly, and that he'd be delighted to have hermione swanning around offering suggestions for how they could do up spinner's end... instead of him resenting this as the unwelcome meddling of people who've never had to worry for money.

i'm also not particularly convinced by the idea that hermione would get over being called a mudblood - especially by an adult man. while i think it's completely plausible that she'd handle this differently than lily [although lily's reaction is entirely justified - and i don't think we should throw the baby out with the bathwater of contextualising the teenage snape and the motivating factors behind his decisions by pretending that cutting off your friend because he called you a slur is a petty, ill-thought-out, or unreasonable move], i don't think that her reaction would be automatically forgiving.

hermione is compassionate towards kreacher when he calls her a mudblood because kreacher is a slave, whose prejudicial views are inextricably bound up in the magic used to oppress him [i.e. that if he received an order to use the term, or to refuse to serve a muggleborn food, from his masters, he would have to punish himself violently if he disobeyed it]. she is not - quite rightly! - compassionate towards someone like draco malfoy when he calls her one, since he is a free person with full agency to choose not to do this.

could she forgive him - or snape - for using the term? sure! absolutely! but i don't think it's a given - and i also think she'd expect a demonstration of how sorry snape was which wouldn't necessarily align with how he'd think he'd demonstrated his regret.

i do agree that - as you say - hermione is a people-pleaser, and she definitely has a far greater tolerance for being treated cruelly by people she wants to impress [especially authority figures - including snape himself] than either harry or ron. and i think this has the potential to introduce an extremely thorny dynamic into a snamione fic - in which the power dynamic inherent in the age gap [which, to reiterate, i think is completely fine for an author to enjoy] is compounded by hermione being unwilling to anger or contradict snape [which is a vibe - as i've said in answer to an ask about harmony - we also see in her relationship with harry... it's also obviously exactly how snape's relationship with dumbledore works.]

on a couple of the more minor characterisation notes, i'm afraid that the idea of snape as a great romantic has never hit for me. it seems really bound up in the way alan rickman portrayed him in the films, which i've always found a bit toothless. i also don't like the trope of "actually snape's really hot" which seems to always accompany it - ugly, odd men to get to bone too!

[what he would be - i think - is a magpie. get ready to be handed odd stones and bits of leaves on dates.]

i also think they're highly-strung in ways which differ enough to mean they'd just annoy each other. hermione is highly-strung in that she flusters easily and is very poor under pressure, but she's actually pretty emotionally stable [and i'd dispute that she's a pessimist - this is a girl who thinks that she's successfully eradicating slavery at hogwarts by knitting hats; she's pretty robust, funny, cheerful, and idealistic]. snape is highly-strung in that he has a hair-trigger temper and is very emotionally volatile, but he's obviously an extraordinarily good liar, very quick on his feet, and very good under pressure. he'd think she panicked too much [and over insignificant things he didn't care about], she'd think he tanked the vibe of a date by taking offence at someone breathing too loudly.

where are they similar? well, they have a shared self-serving streak [hermione is appalled by behaviour from harry and ron she considers perfectly moral when she does it]; capacity for cruelty; tendency towards secrecy; tendency towards pettiness and pleasure in the misfortune of others; loathing of flying a broom; cutting sense of humour; stubbornness; resilience; clear dislike of slumming it in nature; love of puzzles; and a weakness for red hair.

i think you could make it work on the grounds that they'd probably have the time of their lives being haters together - especially, i feel, about rita skeeter.

and - y'know - because love is weird.

[homestuckreplay]

The Time Traveler's Can Opener

(page 498-509)

8/18/2009 Wheel Spin: Character Switch Verdict: Oops, All John!

8/19/2009 Wheel Spin: being silly :3c Verdict: CORRECT (Gamer Refrigerator!)

500 pages!! I can't believe how fast these numbers are going up, I'm learning that most webcomics cap at one page a day at most, so feel genuinely lucky to get all this.

I thought John was going to get a Badass Moment where he totally owned those imps in the living room, but he totally biffed it :( but if he'd won against so many enemies so soon, the victory might have felt unearned. I am really noticing the improvement in Rose and John's Sburb abilities - their teamwork in these pages is so good, with John absconding to the study and then Rose sliding the refrigerator into the cranny so the imps can't follow. Rose has great instincts here and is in such a stressful situation herself that I can't help but give her props for her work here.

I do think dropping the safe from so high was overkill, and that destroying John's house is literally the opposite of her job right now. I also think that if the refrigerator gets one more kill it will probably out-level John and therefore take over as both the client player and the main character of our story. So the two of them both have things they still need to work on, but, reading this gives the real sense that they're making progress, and that gives the story a nice momentum.

I also LOVE how the imps, collectively, have a lot of personality. Real video games can often struggle with this, where low level enemies are mindless things to kill that leave no actual impression, but Sburb has really cracked it. The gag where the imps will replace their jester hats with any other hat or hat like object is very entertaining to me, and the fact that they're really invested in the pogo ride for some reason is curious. Most likely they just think it's fun to play with, but I like to imagine that Slimer from Ghostbusters is a god in their society.

I've been thinking recently about what wikipedia terms the 'sad clown paradox,' where comedians have an above average chance of struggling with issues like depression. It's really easy to read John and his prankster's gambit through this lens, but part of me wants to read John's whole house through the lens. From its multiple generations of inhabitants to its decor to its new invasive species, it feels like the essence of the clown is infused throughout this ultimately sad and lonely house.

Under the safe in John's dad's study is a captchalogue card and a note taped to the wall. Inside the safe is another, scuffed up copy of Colonel Sassacre, along with some old papers and an unidentified grey object in the back. I don't know what I expected to be in here, either money or an authentic Joseph Grimaldi jacket, but it seems like the Sassacre book is a really important heirloom that each person in the Egbert family gets to own. I'll probably speculate some more on why Dad wants to save these items specifically once we've seen the papers.

From the antiquated politeness of the new commands, I figured the Wayward Vagabond had read the human etiquette book, but I did not know they'd eaten it. It seems counterproductive to eat information that might be helpful. Unless that's how their species learns and retains things, in which case, great work and it's clearly paying off. Kind of sucks how the author of the etiquette book is British though.

Even now the Vagabond is being polite, it seems really dangerous to have these commands coming to John from an outsider, given how he loses all awareness of his surroundings when he's being commanded like this. But given the logo on the outside, the computer and bunker the Vagabond inhabits were built by someone, for some intended function. So what's the deal? Is the system of giving commands built into Sburb or not? Is there somebody else more competent who is intended to use this command panel, and the Vagabond has stolen their place somehow? Does Sburb really feel like it needs to mind control its players directly? Is the game going to get so difficult and complicated that this is the only way to win? The Vagabond doesn't seem like they have a goal with John beyond obtaining a can opener, but what will happen if whoever's supposed to be using this computer shows up?

[fairrryprose]

[BOOK TOUR] STARLIGHT JEWEL (GIFTS OF THE AULDTREE #1) // E.L. LYONS

Welcome to my stop on the tour for STARLIGHT JEWEL, the first book in an adult dark fantasy trilogy by E.L. LYONS, hosted by ESCAPIST BOOK CO.

Axly, the Starlight Jewel of the title, is a human-sprygan hybrid, a highly-skilled trained seductress, thief, and assassin -- and a traitor to everyone she loves. To keep her human brother with a dangerous gift safe from falling into the wrong hands, she treads down darker and darker paths and has to contend with divided loyalties, romance, and discovering the light within herself.

The strength of the book for me lies in its mythology of sprygans and hybrids - their anatomy, their culture, their magic and gifts (see the pictures below!) - as well as its compelling characters - in particular, Axly and her complexities, Grim (see the artwork of him and his dog Cleatus above) and his unwavering sense of duty and his impact on Axly as they get closer, pulled apart, and re-collide time and time again. The sprygans are interesting creatures, yet despite having our protagonist be half-sprygan and more connected to sprygans than perhaps any other character in the book, they still retain an aura of mystery as we slowly uncover more about them and their gifts throughout the story. I did think the story could've also used more focus on the plot, as I found it to be meandering and tangential at times, but if approaching it from a lens of character study and a story revolving around themes of loyalty, self-discovery, (found) family, and the lengths one will go to for love and finding meaning in one's actions and sacrifices, the book definitely delivered.

Book Information:

Starlight Jewel by E.L. LyonsSeries: Gifts of the Auldtree Trilogy

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Intended Age Group: Adult

Pages: 493

Published: September 13, 2022

Publisher: Self Published

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Book Blurb:

Axly, the Starlight Company's premier seductress-thief and assassin, will do whatever it takes to keep her human brother hidden. The secrets of his origin could tear their world apart, and keeping them has driven her to lies and murder. Her people, the sprygan-human hybrids that live under the city of Minalav, aren't keen on allowing their most skilled asset to roam free. A job with a human offers a chance to get her brother out of danger, but it comes at a price. Divided loyalties, duty, romance, and the twisted hands of fate intertwine in this epic fantasy adventure.

Gifts of the Auldtree is a world of mythology, glamor, mud, blood, civilizations in conflict, and hints of distant powers. In the center of this is the mysterious Starlight Jewel of Minalav.

See Also: 

(This is our attempt at a bit of fun. We ask our authors to come up with a few short, clever, possibly pop culture laden, descriptions of their books just to give a little taste of what’s to come for readers.)

Run Forest, Run! • SapQuest • Forgot Your Ax

//

Where you can find the book:

Amazon (Paperback, KU, Ebook): https://a.co/d/6cV7fpG

Barnes & Noble (Hardcover w/ dust jacket, US only): https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/starlight-jewel-el-lyons/1142255152

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/62347148-starlight-jewel

///

About the Author:

​E.L. Lyons holds a Bachelor of Science in Psychology from Regent University. She's worked as a pool manager, beauty department manager, relief counselor at a youth shelter and as a live-in caregiver. She hopes to finish her next novel from a loft overlooking the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Lyons_Pen

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lyons_pen/

Website: https://lyonspen.com/starlight-jewel/

///

Content/Trigger Warnings:

Shown on Page (things clearly told to the reader): 

Graphic violence

Suicidal ideation

 Classism and ableism (this is woven throughout the book, the hybrid society is structured based off inherited genetic traits including appearances, linguistic capabilities, and abilities)

Child abduction

An unnamed guard dog is killed quickly

Alluded to (things only mentioned in passing or hinted at):

Child abuse and neglect (some questionable practices regarding training children are alluded to in the structure of the hybrid society, and abuse/experimentation on a human child is mentioned in passing in reference to a human child)

Torture

Not-so-graphic violence. 

Note from the author:

There are certain elements of the book that are implied or mentioned in passing that some readers may find disturbing, including sprygans and humans mating, which renders human women catatonic due to the nature of sprygan minds. This is explained briefly but not graphically. Prostitution is also a thread in the book, but it’s also just alluded to and talked around. 

///

Check out other stops on the tour below:

[stickyphilosopherconnoisseur]

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Out of the 77 kilograms of lunar samples Apollo 15 brought to Earth, one of them called the Genesis Rock represented ancient material that forms much of the Moon’s highlands. It might also help to choose a quiet time and place for the discussion, one where the two of you can concentrate on each other. These two steps provided a means to identify LDA models that were consistent with my intuitive understanding of the topics, and to build confidence in these models. The whole last name thing is confusing, and it's not really that crucial to understanding the royal family. Harry and Meghan were hoping to step back and to retain their titles, but the Queen insisted that they were stripped of the royal distinction. You could say that the Queen is an important person, so her safety is crucial. Many times women will stay in a relationship just to say they "have a man." If you feel you are selling yourself short, don't buy the pizza!

[ruzek-halstead]

i remember it all too well

julie has a hard week, but luke is there with excellent cuddling abilities. 

masterlist

It had been a hard week for Julie. While her music career with the boys was starting to take off, she was still a high school student first and had assignments and tests she couldn't ignore. On this day in particular, it was nearing one in the morning and Julie's eyeballs were burning with the need to sleep. But she couldn't, not yet. She had finished an essay for English nearly an hour ago, and she still had to study for a Biology test. At this point, she wasn't sure she was going to make it.

"Okay, what about this?" Julie let her head drop onto her textbook. The boys knew how much she had to get done tonight, and out of solidarity, they were lounged around her room to keep her company. It would have been fine, except Reggie was unable to stop talking at all times, Luke had his guitar and he also had an inability to stop strumming it. Alex recognized she needed peace and quiet, so he shushed his best friends every once in a while. But then Luke started creating riffs for a potential new song, so Alex forgot all about silence and started hitting any surface in the room that could substitute for his drum set. "That sounds sick, dude! Let me get my bass!" At the possibility of having a full-out jam session in her bedroom while she was trying to memorize the human body systems, Julie had to say something. "I really appreciate you guys sticking around, but I think I'm going to head to bed soon," Julie told them with an inevitable yawn. "I'll see you all in the morning." Julie avoided Luke's intense gaze, because he knew her too well. Of course she wasn't planning on going to bed yet, but if they thought so, they would retire for the night. "Okay," Reggie agreed, walking over to Julie to drop a quick kiss on the crown of her head. "Good luck on your test tomorrow! You're going to kill it, like always." Julie sent him a soft smile in return. "Thanks, Reg." "Yeah, you're going to do fantastic," Alex praised, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "You're the smartest person I know." "You're dead. You don't know many people," Reggie pointed out, staring in confusion. Alex whipped around to glare at him. "Yeah Reggie, I think she knows that." "Anyway, goodnight Jules, see you in the morning!" When she heard the tell-tale sign of their poof, she turned back around to hit the books. But she had been staring at the respiratory system for ages now and it just wasn’t working; she was so exhausted, her brain wasn’t retaining information anymore. “Hey,” Luke murmured quietly. Julie felt his hand crawl under her curls to the nape of her neck in a comforting gesture. “It’s time for some sleep.” His hand softly rubbed at the knots in her neck, then joined his other hand on her shoulders. Julie hummed in satisfaction. It had only been a few weeks that their entire dynamic changed and she was able to feel her newest best friends. And ever since then, they always found an excuse to be in touch with each other. It was amazing how close they’d all gotten immediately after the boys appeared, especially when they had no physical connection at all. Now that they did, they were sure to take full advantage. Luke was especially appreciative of his newfound corporealism. He had always been told that he was very touch-oriented; it was how he liked to show his affection, and it absolutely killed him and that he wasn’t able to do that with Julie. They became so close, so fast, and while it only strengthened their connection further, he could only imagine the possibilities if he had more of a physical ability. But now that he did, he used it to its full extent. “I’m not ready for this test,” Julie moaned, leaning her head down further. It allowed Luke more access to rub the tension out of her shoulders, but he feared her uncomfortable position may only do further damage to her spine. “Your test is during last period. You can study at lunch and during your free period,” he suggested. He had never seen Julie so physically and mentally exhausted and it genuinely worried him; he just wanted to take care of her. “Flynn even offered to help you.” Julie nodded her head. Truth be told, Luke’s ministrations coupled with her utter exhaustion was leading her to fall asleep right there and then. “Alright, it’s bed time,” Luke decided. He guided a sleepy Julie over to her bed and pulled the covers back so she could crawl in. Her curls fanned out across her pillow and he sat at the edge of her bed, mostly to gaze. For the first time that night, she looked so peaceful and he couldn't help himself when his hand snuck up to caress her cheek softly Julie leaned her head closer to his hand. "My brain is so fried. I don't even know what I don't know anymore." "Do you need anything else? I can sneak you that pint of Ben and Jerry's. I don't think Reggie's eaten all of it." "No, I don't want that," Julie replied. She took a moment to study his face, then met his gaze with a soft smile. "I could use a good cuddle though, if you're up to it." Luke kept his facial expression neutral and ignored the way his heartbeat accelerated dramatically. If it was what she needed, who was he to deny her that? Julie scooted over to the other end of the bed to give Luke room to slip in. He leaned back against the headboard and watched quietly as Julie gravitated towards him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head soundly against his chest. "Thanks for being here, Luke," she whispered lowly. Luke brought his arm down to wrap around her. "Of course." The silence was palpable, but it was nice. Luke's hand was softly caressing her arm, and as her breathing deepened, he was fairly convinced she fell asleep. Hypothetically, he could just poof out. But then Julie would quite literally fall through the space he was occupying and it would probably scare her awake and ruin all the relaxation they'd just accomplished. So instead, he started to extricate himself as easily and quickly as possible. But Julie held out; her grip tightened around his waist and he wasn't able to pull himself away. "Please stay." Luke was never good at saying no, much less to girls, and especially not to Julie. "Are you sure?" Luke chuckled nervously. "You got somewhere else to be?" She teased in an airy, sleepy tone. "A hot date, maybe?" He snorted. "Only if you count Reggie. He likes to cuddle too." Silence surrounded them again, and this time, he was certain Julie fell asleep. He was glad she was finally resting; it had been a tough week and he hated nothing more than to see her suffer and not be able to help (school was never his thing). Eventually he dozed off too. When Julie's alarm clock went off on her phone a few hours later, Luke jolted awake. He wasn't used to waking up to a blaring alarm, he was hardly even used to waking up at all. They never used to sleep before, but with their new abilities, along came a weakness. Julie rolled over to turn off her alarm, and when she looked up, she was definitely not expecting to see Alex and Reggie, sitting quietly at her desk with amused expressions. She squealed, relying on her instincts, which happened to be throwing the closest object in her possession (her phone). It hit Reggie square in the gut and he doubled over in pain. "Jesus Christ! Were you guys just watching like weirdos?" Luke finally noticed them as well, watching in amusement as Alex held Reggie up. "Oh, we used to watch you sleep all the time," Luke commented, solely because the horrified look on Julie's expression was worth it. "He's kidding," Alex added with an eye roll. "We are here because Luke didn't come home last night and we were worried sick." Reggie seemed to have recovered from his injury because he was smirking as he said his next few words. "But clearly, we were worried for nothing because he's fine." "Julie took good care of him," Alex teased. Julie's eyes flickered between the two, then back to Luke, who was holding back his own amused smirk. "I have to get ready for school. Get out of my room." "You're not even offering breakfast?" "OUT!" But even as they all filed out of the room, Julie sent Luke one more appreciative glance. 

x

haha, thanks for reading. just a little something i felt like writing. 

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[hb-writes]

The Firstborns

A Sylvie Bridgerton Story - 1815

Sylvie (OC) is the eldest child of Hugo Bridgerton, the older sister to George (OC), and a cousin raised alongside the infamous Bridgerton brood. Born in-between Daphne and Eloise, Sylvie has made it her mission to delay her season again and again. Will 1815 be her year? 

A/N - I’ve read the books and watched the show, so fair warning there are likely spoilers and it’s also likely a mix of both media because my mind honestly didn’t separate them - it just choose what it wants from the books/ tv show. 

---

It was often said that elder brothers could be the worst sort of thing to happen to a young woman of marrying age, but Sylvie Bridgerton had three elder male cousins and could rightfully attest to the fact that they could be similarly problematic. 

Sylvie supposed they were essentially siblings, the Bridgerton brood labeled tidily from A through H, because she had been raised mostly by their side as an alphabetical outcast, the elder of the two children born to Lord Hugo Bridgerton, left in the care of her Uncle Edmund at her father’s passing, the responsibility then left to her cousin, Anthony, only a year after that. At least that was the way society dictated it. 

Sylvie had always been quite certain it was really her Auntie Vi who was in charge of her and her younger brother, George, though. Or more precisely, Sylvie was quite certain that Auntie Vi was in charge of everything, her Viscount of a cousin included. 

But as Sylvie sat twiddling her fingers in Anthony’s office for the third time in less than a week, she was starting to question that certainty. 

Sylvie had assessed that her cousin looked rather disgruntled, though she supposed Anthony had simply had that look about him for about a week or so now.

“So, are we to have a little chat or…?”

Anthony had ignored his cousin from the very moment after instructing her to take a seat a little over a quarter of an hour before. He focused instead on whatever was keeping him chained to his desk at this time of night, some paperwork regarding the estate and the family finances.

“If not, maybe you’ll allow me to borrow a book to pass the time?” Sylvie gestured to his brimming shelves. 

“Sylvia.” 

Anthony set down his pen, eyebrow raised as he interlaced his fingers, settling them on top of the papers before him. He was surprised she’d humored his silence for so long, nearly fourteen minutes when he’d expected no more than three to seven.

“Is my given name truly necessary?” she said, allowing only a moment of silence before continuing. “I suppose from that alone I should gather I’m in some sort of proper trouble?”

Anthony only stared at her and then, despite himself, he sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples and rolling his neck. 

If anyone thought raising girls was an easy business, they’d clearly never done it themselves. They’d never met Daphne or Eloise or Francesca or Hyacinth Bridgerton. And they’d certainly never met Sylvia. 

It still shocked him a bit, the differences between the Bridgerton girls, his younger sisters and his younger cousin. It was impressive, the way they could each vex him in such creative and distinct ways, their ability to bring him to laughter matched equally by their making him wish he had remained an only child, and entirely cousin-less as well. 

On some days, Anthony wondered if every Bridgerton below him in age didn’t actually gather in the drawing-room at an agreed-upon hour to arrange a schedule designed solely for agitating him, deciding who would next take a swing and what technique would be employed. It seemed that Sylvie had been assigned extra vexing duties as of late, though that was not entirely surprising to him. She had always seemed to enjoy it a bit more than the others. And she was bloody good at it too.

“Are you ever not in trouble, Sylvia?” 

Her eyes longed to roll, his continued insistence on using her full name bringing her the slightest bit of frustration, because despite all of the evidence otherwise, she did prefer when Anthony wasn’t lecturing her. She actually quite enjoyed his company when he wasn’t scolding. 

“On those precious few evenings when you actually do go out, or better yet go to your own home, I find myself in a distinct lack of trouble. No one else deems me fit to be scolded, however—” 

“However—” Anthony sat up and straightened his jacket. “—I am seemingly required to do so three...or four,” he said, allowing for the chance they’d find themselves in the same situation the following evening, “nights a week, all because you think a little untoward behavior will allow you to put off your season for another year.”

Sylvie was left with her mouth open, her elder cousin’s words an effective silencer and stunner, finally coming straight to the point after the two of them had danced around it for weeks. 

“I—”

“Hear precisely what you are saying, my dear cousin, and will stop all this nonsense at once?” Anthony suggested. 

“That’s—That’s not what I wanted to say,” she answered.

“No, of course not. I would never dream to expect as much.”

Sylvie took a breath as she considered her options. She wanted to ask for another year of reprieve. That’s what she had planned for, waiting at least another year before subjecting herself to the same torment Daphne had endured only two years prior.

She was still young enough to justify a delay and she’d successfully done so for two years already, citing a need to finish out a few academic endeavors the first year and an ankle injured in a particularly ruthless game of Pall Mall the next, but she hadn’t postured herself correctly for her cousin to be amenable to a conversation on delaying yet again. But then again, Sylvie hadn’t truly postured herself very well for Anthony to be amenable to her requests for nearly a decade by this point. 

“But Georgie—”

“You do not need to concern yourself with matters concerning your brother. The boys will be at Eton come the next fall. They’ll be home for the summers. No matter who you marry, you shall always be welcome to visit him here or at Aubrey Hall, and I’m sure George should like to come to visit you as well.” 

Sylvie’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she cleared her throat and regained the ability to form proper words. “Actually Anthony, I had expected that Georgie would be living with me.” 

Anthony shook his head, sitting up in his chair. “George will be at Eton. He and Gregory will both be at Eton and then—”

“He is my brother,” Sylvie answered. “My responsibility.” 

“I think you’ll find that both you and George are both my responsibility. And that responsibility extends to seeing you settled in a comfortable marriage and your brother receiving a proper education before, when he is ready, he also settles into a comfortable marriage.” 

“When he’s ready?” Sylvie repeated. “Why is it that you boys get to marry when you’re ready and we young ladies are simply commanded to join the parade when you men determine it’s the proper time? Why do you get to decide everything?” 

Anthony could have been honest and told Sylvie that he wanted them all tucked away into the safety of marriage because he didn’t know that he would be around to see to it if there was a delay. 

Or he could have spoken to her from firstborn to firstborn, appealing the fellow eldest child he found in his younger cousin, aligning them through their common thread, and insisting that he only did these things because it was what he thought was best for them, same as she did for the younger ones and George especially. 

Or he could have been quite frank and informed her that he had no desire to have multiple Bridgerton girls in season at the same time, though the prospect of settling Sylvie, Eloise, and Francesca down all in one go was enticing. 

But Anthony didn’t tell her those things. He offered a much simpler explanation, one which he suspected would allot less room for argument on the part of the cousin who was testing his capacity for patience at such a late hour.

“Because I am Viscount, Sylvia.” 

Sylvie released a quick breath and turned her face down to focus on her fumbling fingers as she considered it. Anthony had only uttered four simple words, but there was a whole lot of complicated meaning built up behind them.

Because you are Viscount.

And a man.

And I am nothing.

A woman, and therefore, nothing. 

Property. 

A dowry. 

A machine for use of creating an heir. 

Meant to be seen and not heard. 

Nothing.

She found it all hard to swallow after her upbringing even though she knew Anthony, and the other male Bridgertons, didn’t truly live by those beliefs. But society did. The ton did. And so the second she entered society, it would become reality, in a way. 

Sylvie had never before been discounted on account of being female. As a young Bridgerton girl, she had frequently gone out into the fields tagging along behind her older cousins, playing the very same games as the boys, climbing trees and forging streams. Even once they moved to London year-round, Sylvie had retained a certain amount of autonomy. 

And though they often went toe to toe, Anthony had always respected Sylvie’s position as George’s older sister, and he’d always acknowledged the importance of the common ground that stood between them, that of the firstborn sibling, affording her an extra measure of respect that he’d not afford to even Benedict in certain matters. It often came out in shared glances across the room, or their lending one another support with simple nods in response to “Right, Sylvie?” or “Right, Anthony?”

Although they had never explicitly discussed it, Sylvie assumed when she did one day marry, her brother would come to stay with her, assumed that if he were still of a certain impressionable age, George would officially become the responsibility of her and her future husband. 

And if she didn’t marry until later in life, until her younger brother was fully grown, or if she never married at all, she was alright with those scenarios as well. She loved Bridgerton House and Aubrey Hall and being surrounded by family, her wild cousins and brother running about and shouting at all hours. She didn’t long for the solitude of marriage. And despite loving children, she wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to bear her own.

“But—”

“What could you possibly have to say to argue that point?”

“I’m not going to argue whether or not you’re the Viscount, My Lord.” 

Anthony rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. He rued the day that his cousin learned that she could somehow twist his title into an insult. 

Sylvie smiled, considering his silence permission to continue, not that she was truly waiting for it. 

“I’m going to argue against this season. Daphne didn’t meet Simon until the season in which she turned one and twenty, and your own wife didn’t have her season until one and twenty, and—”

“And you’re telling me that I should allow you to wait until you are one and twenty?” 

“No,” she said. “You, my dearest cousin, are the Right Honorable Viscount Bridgerton, and I am well aware that I cannot tell you what to do. I am merely asking that you consider my humble little request.” 

Anthony snorted. “Sylvie Bridgerton? Humble, eh?”

“My ability to be humble is not the question at hand, Anthony,” she muttered. “And neither truly is the time at which my season should take place because... well, your wife has already agreed with me. Kate thinks one and twenty is the perfect age for a first season.” 

Anthony’s thumb rubbed at his temple, an entirely subconscious gesture on his part. “My wife has already agreed with you?”

“Yes, the Viscountess has agreed that I should be allowed to wait a year. We had tea this afternoon while you, Ben, and Colin were at the club.” 

“Of course you did.”

“She also said that you’ve lost a bet to her and as such, you will have no choice to go along with us.”

Anthony closed his eyes and his nostrils flared before he released a deep exhale. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Me or Kate?”

Anthony waved a hand in the air. “I’ll let the two of you work that out. Not as if my opinion on the subject matters.”

“So, you’ll tell Auntie—”

Anthony’s booming laugh cut off Sylvie’s words. “No, no, my dearest cousin. I shall leave that particular discussion for you.” 

He stood up from his desk then, taking his hat as he stepped towards the door. “Best of luck. Do let me know how that goes.” 

[midnightactual]

The Onmitsukidō and Yoruichi’s Early Career

In the Yoruichi Combat Uniform Recognition Guide, I described Mk. 0 Mod. 0 (pictured below for clarity) in the following fashion:

It’s unclear what her rank was as of this time, although she was likely Gundanchō of the Punishment Force as this isn’t a standard rank-and-file uniform and there’d be little reason for her to have wide latitude in customizing it (and we see no other Onmitsukidō members do so).

I’ve since come to realize that this probably isn’t entirely accurate. We do see this uniform elsewhere... sort of. In chapter 113, we see this guy from the Onmitsukidō’s Riteitai (裏廷隊), the Inner Court Troop or Inner Court Force:

You’ll notice in the top-left panel, at the bottom-right, under the speech bubble, you can see some lighter-colored fabric. It could be that this is incorrectly colored here, as is perhaps the fabric at the bottom of the bottom panel. The reason I suggest this is because of how the anime renders this same guy in episode 39:

Notice that here his uniform has flaps similar to Yoruichi’s. We also see members of the Inner Court Force in chapter 500, but only from the waist up, which doesn’t help clarify this discrepancy. We also see one in SOULs, here, which actually confuses the issue even more as they appear to be straps rather than a flap.

Either way, their uniform is far and away the closest thing we ever see to Yoruichi’s first Onmitsukidō uniform pictured up above. (With said uniform, as the Recognition Guide makes clear, being the basis for her future jacket which she wears up to the present day.) This leads me to two possible theories regarding her early career. However, before addressing them, it’s important to review the structure of the Onmitsukidō itself.

The Onmitsukidō

Unfortunately, as it’s routinely based on fan translations and is thus routinely wrong, the best source on the Onmitsukidō is the Bleach Wiki, as much of the information given out about it was provided in data books (such as SOULs, MASKED, and KaraBuri+). To briefly summarize, the Onmitsukidō is organized into five units of decreasing authority and prestige, which I will refer to by their more literal translations rather than the Bleach Wiki’s, and will only give the most basic description of here:

刑軍, Keigun, Punishment Force: active counterintelligence, counterterrorism, battlefield reconnaissance

警邏隊, Keiratai, Security Force: domestic intelligence gathering, undercover operations, apprehending suspects

檻理隊, Kanritai, Management Force: prisoner management

???

裏廷隊, Riteitai, Inner Court Force: Seireitei messengers

There is apparently some overlap of responsibilities: in TBTP, it seems to be the case that Punishment Force members are guarding the Management Force’s Maggots’ Nest facility, and it likewise seems to be the case that Punishment Force members were dispatched to apprehend Kisuke and Tessai rather than Security Force members, although this isn’t certain and is based exclusively on the uniforms seen.

It’s also important to know that, despite what the Bleach Wiki says on its pages for Yoruichi and the Onmitsukidō, there is no overt textual evidence that she was ever in the Management Force or the Inner Court Force. Any such suggestion based on dialogue or narration is either outright wrong, or is at best right for the wrong reasons.

With all that said, from here onward we’ll be moving from facts to speculation. A question presents itself at this point: what is the 4th Unit of the Onmitsukidō? Given its comparatively low authority within the organization, its mission almost certainly cannot be terribly special or exotic. It probably isn’t some super secret elite special forces group.

By considering the other four units, the most logical mission for the 4th Unit is to function as an Outer Court Force: a unit for delivering messages to locations outside the Seireitei, be that Rukongai, the Living World, or Hueco Mundo. Another possibility is that it’s a Remote Reconnaissance Force, tasked with monitoring those same locations. Or perhaps it’s both, or something else entirely. From here onward, I’ll be taking it for granted it that it’s both those.

Possibility 1: the Inner Court Force

The first possibility is that Yoruichi’s uniform resembles an Inner Court Force uniform because it is one. Given that it’s white, that white is often used within the Seireitei to denote command (as with the haori of Captains), and that the rest of her uniform is clearly non-standard, one fairly obvious conclusion would be that she was, at that time, the Unit Commander of the Inner Court Force.

We know that when Soifon first sees Yoruichi, the latter will eventually become the Unit Commander of the Punishment Force, but that she isn’t yet, just like she’s the “princess” of the Shihōin Clan and not yet the Clan Head.

It’s striking how long Yoruichi’s hair is here. It’s notably longer than every other time we see her in flashbacks and the past, to include when she was training with Kisuke, and looks like it’d go to at least the bottom of her shoulder blades. The implication is that she cut it sometime after this, and kept it short for the rest of her service; she might not have joined the Onmitsukidō yet at this point, or she might have and only held some lower rank. Regardless, this is probably actually the first time we see her chronologically, although she doesn’t really look younger than in that training flashback.

(It’s also striking that it’s stated she’ll be the Unit Commander of the Punishment Force, and not the Supreme Commander of the Onmitsukidō as a whole. Perhaps Soifon’s relative doesn’t care about that because their clan serves exclusively in the Punishment Force, or perhaps it’s just implied because those two offices are usually coterminal, or perhaps it indicates it wasn’t anticipated that the position of Supreme Commander would open so soon. It’s unclear which is the case. It’s still interesting.)

Anyway, think about what we know about Yoruichi: she’s independent and has something of an anti-authoritarian streak. She does things her own way. If it’s expected that she become Unit Commander of the Punishment Force, maybe she would go out of her way to do something else instead.

Consider: the heir apparent of one of the Great Noble Clans suddenly comes into your organization as an upper echelon officer. Do you immediately trust their abilities, or do you resent them for leapfrogging to the top on the basis of their blood and imagine that they’re likely unqualified? Probably the latter.

What’s a good way around that? Start from the bottom at the lowest of the five units in the Onmitsukidō. Work your way up to show what you’re worth. Or, as KaraBuri+ puts it:

If that’s the case, Yoruichi’s continued use and customization of that jacket even after transferring could be seen as a badge of honor and symbol of pride on her part: “I earned my place here. I worked my way up from the very bottom to the very top. Nobody really handed me anything.” Perhaps what we see with Kisuke is her having risen to the top of the Inner Court Force.

The mission profile of the Inner Court Force, interestingly, fits with her skillset quite well:

Possibility 2: the Outer Court Force

The second possibility is that Yoruichi’s uniform resembles an Inner Court Force uniform because the Outer Court Force wears something very similar. The logic for this possibility is essentially the same as the above, except that Yoruichi need not necessarily have been Unit Commander of the Outer Court Force to readily explain her seemingly unique uniform; she may instead have still been rank and file.

This possibility would likely expose Yoruichi to more dangerous and adverse circumstances than the former one as she’d likely be operating far from the Seireitei, possibly for extended periods of time depending on how messaging was logistically organized. (Would it be dispatch and return, or some kind of circuit?)

Subsequent Career

One downside of serving in the Inner Court Force (and to a lesser extent the Outer Court Force) would be that, while doing so would demonstrate that Yoruichi was “unpretentious”, it would ironically also be exactly the sort of position you would expect a wealthy, cowardly, and pampered noble to want to take. Dispatching messages within the Seireitei isn’t normally a hazardous or trying job. One still might be inclined to imagine that someone serving in those units was “soft”, especially if one was in a “hard” unit like the Punishment Force.

One way around this perception for Yoruichi, regardless of whether she was in the Inner or Outer Court Forces, would be to enter the Punishment Force as a rank-and-file grunt, even if she had previously been the Unit Commander of one of those other units. Officers don’t usually willingly accept demotions with transfers, and doing so would be another highly unusual move, but would effectively communicate, “I’m one of you, and I can do your job as well or better than you can.”

Given Yoruichi’s continued use of a uniform article from the lower echelons of the Onmitsukidō, this kind of enduring “I did it My Way” attitude seems most likely to me—it’s certainly how she’s lived the rest of her life afterward! So, a likely career trajectory for her:

Joined the Onmitsukidō, entering the Inner Court Force or Outer Court Force as rank-and-file

[Various promotions?]

[Promoted to Unit Commander of the Inner Court Force or Outer Court Force?]

Transferred to Punishment Force as rank-and-file

[Various promotions?]

[Promoted to Unit Commander of Punishment Force?]

Promoted to Supreme Commander of the Onmitsukidō [becoming Unit Commander of the Punishment Force if not already]

Joined the Gotei 13 as Captain of the 2nd Division, retaining dual-hatted command

Abandoned positions

Anyway, I’ll be updating my History and the Recognition Guide to account for all this fairly soon.

[four-loose-screws]

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 13, Section 3

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

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———————————

I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 13: The Desert Palace (con’t x2)

The Grado Army finally noticed that Eirika’s group had snuck in from the east, and the soldiers guarding the front gate tried to split up into two groups.

However, they could not properly follow through with the order. The chaos had reached its peak, and the Grado soldiers ended up bumping into each other.

Joshua’s target was the enemy unit’s leader. While the leader put up an excellent fight, he couldn’t match Joshua’s abilities.

Joshua backed him up against the wall and knocked his weapon out of his hands.

All of the color drained from his face.

Joshua brought his sword to the man’s throat and asked, “Is the queen safe?”

“I… I don’t know!” The man tried to feign ignorance, but Joshua pressed the tip of his sword against his throat. His voice shook as he corrected himself,  “All I know is, she should still be alive. She’s with Carlyle in the throne room…”

“Carlyle? Is Carlyle safe too?” Joshua relaxed his shoulders. “Is he fighting and protecting the queen? But then why…?” He looked like he had realized something, as he tightened the grip around his sword. “The entire palace has been captured. Yet why is Carlyle, the leader of the army, safe? Answer me!” 

“Sir Carlyle… He helped us get inside the palace…” The man winced. The tip of Joshua's sword cut his throat ever so slightly.

Eirika called out from behind Joshua, “Who is Carlyle? Are you saying he led the Grado Army here from the inside…?"

Joshua backed away from the leader with a look of shock on his face. “I can’t believe it. He sold Jehanna out to the enemy.”

“Joshua, who is Carlyle? What is it that you know…?”

“For now, we need to get to the throne room. Seems like the queen is still safe.” Joshua whirled around. 

ー

The diversion unit that Innes was leading took advantage of the chaos that the Grado Army was in and tore down the front gate.

His soldiers, having gained a huge amount of momentum, all rushed inside. Eirika’s group met up with them and continued further inside.

“The throne room should be down this hallway…” Innes tried to stand as the leader of the army, but Joshua stopped him.

“Wait, don’t go down there!”

“What?”

“Look at the walls. There's holes to shoot arrows through, right?"

Eirika looked closely at the walls. Now that Joshua had said that and made her look, she could see the holes clearly. They were so small that she wouldn't have noticed them had they not been pointed out to her. 

"There isn't anywhere that we could hide. If we moved carelessly, then we would be shot.”

"...Of course." Innes nodded, but when he turned to look at Joshua, his expression was not one of thanks, but of suspicion.

‘He knows too much.’ Eirika felt the same way. The inside of the palace was indeed complex, and the map that Joshua had drawn before they entered was shockingly accurate.

And there was also the incident moments ago where he knew the name that the Jehanna Army leader of the Grado Army had spoken of. The man who’d betrayed Jehanna and helped the Grado Army… Carlyle, if she remembered correctly.

Why did he know so much information about Jehanna? How did he and Carlyle know each other? Her suspicions about him were only piling up, but there was no time to ask about any of them.

At Innes’ order, the armored soldiers forged ahead, and formed a wall of their own to block anyone else from being shot by the arrows. Eirika and the rest of the army hid in their shadows and started to walk down the hallway.

Just as they’d expected, hidden archers rained down arrows from the other side of the wall. However, the arrows were entirely ineffective against the knights. The projectiles bounced right off their heavy armor. 

When everyone passed through another hallway lined by tall, circular pillars, they entered a large room with a tall ceiling. To make it this far, they had already defeated most of the enemies in their path. They cut down the few trying to stand in their way, then the army continued towards the throne room.

Placed in the innermost part of the palace was a luxurious throne fit for the beautiful building. And a man was sitting upon it.

He was thin and had a pale, lifeless face. When he noticed Eirika and her army coming, he slowly stood up.

He was very tall and had wide shoulders. He had probably once been a great knight, but now, he appeared to be utterly worn out. The only light left within him was the strange one shining in his eyes.

“Who are you!? One of the Grado generals?!” Innes shouted and nocked an arrow. However, the man was not looking at him. He was staring straight at Joshua, who was frozen in place with a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Joshua glared at the man and shouted, “Carlyle! Where is the queen?!”

“...You’re…” A light glittered in his eyes. His sunken face twisted into a bitter expression. Then he breathed a long sigh and muttered, “So you’ve returned… But why now, of all times?”

“Where is the queen?! Did you sell her out to the enemy?!”

“...No.” Carlyle shook his head. When he furrowed his brow, his expression changed to a terribly sad one. “I only… I only wanted to make her happy…”

“Where is the queen?! What have you done, Carlyle?!” Joshua said, sounding very irritated. 

Eirika wanted to ask where the queen was right away, but the tension between them was so great that she dared not come between them.

“...She worked so hard that it would have been grueling even for a man… and did it all alone. For many, many years… I thought that if I could become her strength even just a little bit as the leader of the army… if I could lessen her exhaustion even just a little bit…” 

“Carlyle?” Joshua asked the man he was interrogating, suspicious of him, then said, “You were loyal to her. You supported her more sincerely than anyone else in the world as her most trusted retainer. I would hear good stories about you from time to time, even after I left...” 

“You are wrong. I did not serve the queen with such noble feelings." Carlyle’s eyes darkened, and he looked at Joshua.

Joshua looked like he was trying to figure out what the man’s true feelings were. Then, he asked in a low voice, “No… You had feelings for her…?”

“It was all her fault. She was too beautiful. I… I kept my feelings hidden for twenty years. She was my lord, and I was her knight… I told myself that I could never speak of my true feelings. Until that man asked me if I was happy with the way things were…”

“That man? Who are you talking about?!”

But Carlyle did not answer, continuing on as if he was delirious with a fever, saying, “When he asked me that, I realized how I really felt for the first time. I didn’t want to live my whole life as just her loyal knight forever. I couldn’t stand the thought that I might hide my feelings forever and die unsatisfied. So I… decided to steal her away and make her all mine.”

"And then you teamed up with the enemy?” Joshua interrogated him. 

Carlyle's expression changed. “I care not what you call me, be it a traitor or a man who sold out his country. I need neither my country nor a throne, so long as I have her…”

“What happened to the queen?! Where is she?!”

“If I defeat all of you… then she can be free…” Carlyle placed a hand on his sword. 

Joshua also swiftly withdrew his own blade.

Seth and Ross both placed a hand on their weapons, but Joshua said with his back still turned to them,  “Stay out of this! ...This is the one man that must die by my hand!”

“You’ve gotten stronger.”  Carlyle took a step forward. 

Joshua took a step back.

“But surely you remember that I am the one who trained you in the way of the sword.”

“Of course I remember. You were a strict teacher."

“You cannot have overcome me yet!”

“We’ll see about that. I’m much stronger now!” Joshua lunged at him.

The sound of metal clashing echoed through the air. Carlyle read each and every one of Joshua’s moves perfectly.

Just where within that tired, thin man was any strength left? It surprised Eirika. Carlyle was always one step ahead of Joshua’s quick movements.

And he wasn’t just exceptionally skilled. He was desperate. Passion shown in his eyes. He might have been an enemy, but Eirika could feel the pain in his expression.

Joshua was clearly under pressure. It was the first time that she had ever seen him like this. It took everything he had in him just to shield against Carlyle’s rapid attacks.

Eirika saw Seth try to step in and help, but she stopped him. “Seth, please don’t help him.”

“But…”

“He wouldn’t want you to, right?”

If the elite soldiers of Eirika’s army all attacked at once, then even Carlyle and his superior swordsmanship would quickly fall. But then Joshua would suffer more than just losing a battle. Eirika knew that very well. This was a fight that Joshua had to win on his own.

Carlyle put all of his strength and sharp fighting spirit into each swing of his sword. Joshua was able to block each attack thrown at him, but he couldn’t match Carlyle’s ferocious force.

Joshua’s sword fell out of his hand. He couldn’t keep his stance anymore, and started to stagger. 

Carlyle smirked triumphantly. “I cannot show any mercy, even against you. I will cut down anyone who stands in my way…” He whispered, confident in his victory. 

Eirika felt a cold chill run down her spine. Seth readied his lance, but she no longer had the energy to stop him.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

Joshua had begun to fall, but kicked Carlyle’s leg as hard as he could. 

Carlyle stumbled. Joshua swiftly picked up his sword, stood up, and pierced straight through the left side of Carlyle’s chest.

Carlyle’s eyes widened. Joshua pulled his sword out without a sound, then said, “I’m sorry, Carlyle. You didn’t teach me to fight dirty…” His voice was heavy with grief.

Carlyle could no longer speak. His chest stained red, and he slowly collapsed.

“But I had to survive, so this is natural to me now. Still, I haven’t forgotten what you taught me. I was able to make it this far… because of you.”

Nobody knew if Carlyle heard those words or not. The light rapidly faded from his eyes. The last thing he did was whisper the queen's name, then he closed his eyes.

For a long while, no one spoke. Joshua hung his head. He had defeated his enemy, but seemed lonely in a way.

The person to break the silence was Innes. "Where is the queen? Was she taken to the basement?"

"We haven't seen the Sacred Stone, either. We must find them both quickly…"

L'Arachel's words made Joshua finally lift his head. On his face were neither hesitation nor worry. He said as lively as always, "Let's go try searching the dungeon!"

He took the lead and ran out of the throne room. Innes and the others followed after him.

But Eirika did not move. She couldn't take her eyes off the fallen Carlyle.

He'd sold out and betrayed Jehanna for his own personal feelings. But Eirika could not bring herself to hate him.

The thoughts he'd revealed may have been selfish, but they were pure. And someone had tried to use those feelings. Someone had asked him, "Are you satisfied with the way things are?" and plotted to lead him to betray his country. That was the person that Eirika could not forgive.

She'd felt this way once before, when Orson had betrayed them. Though it had come as a huge shock, she couldn't hate Orson, because she knew that someone had used him and his pure feelings.

Orson and Carlyle. Was it the same person that had caused them to both betray their homelands? Who could it be? 

'It can't be Lyon… can it?' That suspicion crossed her mind, but she pushed it away.

Lyon wasn't the type of person to take advantage of other people's weaknesses and use their feelings. Such a kind person shouldn't be able to act in such a cruel manner.

"... Eirika?" She heard a voice come from behind her.

Her body froze. 'I must be hearing things.' She thought.

She fearfully turned around.

There stood Prince Lyon, staring at her with eyes open wide.

He looked a bit tired compared to the last time they met, but his pale, gentle face was just as she remembered it. The moment their eyes met, he was overcome by embarrassment. He was quick to blush, just as Eirika remembered.

He seemed to be afraid of something, as he tried to run back the way he came.

She called out to him, "Wait, Lyon!"

"Eirika…."

"Thank goodness! I'm so happy to finally see you! Brother and I have been so worried about you. This war… it must be hurting your heart so much.”

Lyon stared straight at her. He could see tears in her beautiful eyes.

"Your father… Emperor Vigarde… did something happen to him? Surely you’re against a war like this one, right? Please talk to me, Lyon. Tell me what’s going on in the capital…”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered in a broken voice. “I’m so sorry, Eirika. I wanted to see you, too. I wanted to see you and Ephraim and apologize to you. We did something to your country that cannot ever be taken back… But now is still too early. I cannot talk to you yet.”

Hearing Lyon’s voice made her want to cry. It was quaking in true pain.

“You have your reasons, right?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you everything one day. I promise. But I can’t yet...“

“I understand.” Eirika nodded. “I trust you. Someday, we’ll be able to talk to each other, just like we used to.”

“...Yes. We will.”

“I feel a little better. You haven’t changed a bit from before…”

“You haven’t changed at all either, Eirika. No… you’re more beautiful than before…”

“Huh?” Her cheeks flushed red. She didn’t think Lyon would ever say something like that so suddenly.

Lyon was also embarrassed at his own words, and his cheeks slowly turned red. He looked away and quickly said, “I must go now. But I want you to remember one thing. This war happened because I am powerless, but… I always have been, and always will be, your ally.”  

Then, Lyon vanished. Eirika looked around everywhere in utter shock, but she couldn’t see a single sign of him anywhere.

She then remembered that he studied dark magic. And that the evil man who’d tried to feed the hostages to the giant spiders could also cast a spell that allowed him to teleport instantly. It was the kind of spell that only highly trained, proficient mages could cast. It seemed that Lyon’s abilities had improved significantly.

Just then, L’Arachel returned. She looked at Eirika and waved at her to hurry and follow her.

“What are you doing, Eirika? Hurry! We found the queen in the basement!"

“Really? Is she safe?”

“Um…”

L'Arachel didn't say much, and what she did say, she mumbled. Just that alone gave Eirika the feeling that the worst had happened. 

Eirika rushed with L'Arachel down to the basement. At the end of the long stone steps was an altar lit brightly by torches.

In front of the altar, Seth, Innes, and a few others were gathered. Joshua stood alone several feet away.

They were all gathered around a woman lying down on the ground. She had a deep wound across her chest. She still seemed to be breathing weakly, but it was already clear that she was on the verge of death.

Seth said, "Unfortunately… it appears that we are too late. This wound is too deep…"

"Queen Ismaire…" Eirika said softly, and knelt down on the floor.

She'd never felt so strongly for someone she just met before. The queen, the woman who had ruled Jehanna for twenty long years, was more elegant and graceful than Eirika ever could have expected.

The moment she saw the queen's long red hair splayed across the floor, Eirika realized everything. Why Joshua knew the palace so well. Why Joshua had talked to Carlyle like they'd known each other for a long time. And why his eyes had looked so dark ever since they'd heard the tragic news about Jehanna.

Eirika squeezed the queen’s hand. It was cold. Tears started to pour down her face.

The queen had no energy left, but managed to open her eyes slightly. The feeling of Eirika’s skin brought her back to her senses.

“J… Joshua…” A weak voice escaped her lips. 

Eirika looked over at Joshua, who had not moved from where he was standing away from everyone.

He was as still as a rock. His eyes were staring straight at the fallen queen, but he did not move.

“Joshua… where are you? Please… forgive me…” A single tear fell down her cheek.

Joshua finally stepped forward, and kneeled down next to Eirika. Eirika gently offered the queen’s hand to him. He squeezed it as if it was the most valuable treasure in the world.

She still sounded as if she was delirious as she continued to whisper. “I was such a foolish mother. I didn’t give anything to you when you were young… I was so concerned with ruling the country… that I didn’t realize how lonely you were…”

“Mother.” Joshua whispered. The queen' eyes opened wide, and she finally fully regained her senses.

“Joshua? Is that you? Joshua, please forgive me. Please find it in your heart to forgive me…”

“I’m the one who needs to apologize. I didn’t know what you were going through… I was so stupid.”

“No, Joshua. You don't have to say anything more. Just coming back like this is enough… You've already shown me what a fine young man you've become…"

The queen smiled, but her face quickly twisted in intense pain. It was clear to everyone that these were her last moments.

“Joshua, there is something I must tell you. Jehanna’s Sacred Stone… was destroyed. Carlyle… he was tempted by that man…"

“Who was it? Who could do something like that?"

Joshua lowered his ear to his mother's mouth. She moaned the rest of her response through her pain.

“A stone… the color of darkness… is the cause of all this… you must stop it. Joshua, please stop that man and save the world. The people of Jehanna… they’re all counting on you.”

“Mother…” Joshua nodded. "I will. I vow to return Jehanna to the beautiful country it originally was."

"I have… something to give you… Please look around the altar… there, you will find the Sacred Twin relics of Jehanna's royal family…"

"The Sacred Twin relics?"

"They are the treasures passed down to each ruler of Jehanna… I have always dreamed of the day that I would give them to you…"

Innes followed Joshua's line of sight and turned towards the altar. Upon it was a chest with a stone lid. He lifted up the lid and pulled out two weapons from within it.

He raised them up as respectfully as he could, and offered them to Joshua.

Joshua stepped away from his mother and took them.

"The Ice Blade Audhulma… and the Wind Twin Tome Excalibur. Joshua, the moment you take them into your hands… you will be the king of Jehanna.”

Joshua took Twin Relics in each of his hands, then bowed his head. "I have taken them without hesitation. You can rest in peace, Mother."

"Joshua… thank you. You are my beloved son.” The queen whispered, then closed her eyes.

She would never open them again. For a long while, Joshua stayed knelt beside her with the Twin Relics in his hands and his head bowed. No one could even try to say anything to him. They all had their heads lowered as well, and were praying for the queen that had lived bravely until the very end.

 Finally, Joshua raised his head and stood up. He looked around at everyone, then feigned a cheerful voice and said, "Whoops, my secret is out now! I wanted to keep it hidden until the end, but in summary, that’s what it is. I am the foolish heir of Jehanna’s royal family.”

“...You cannot speak like that. It is not a tone befitting of a king. Speak properly this time.” Innes said. It seemed that he was being considerate of Joshua's feelings in his own way, and trying to clear the air.

Joshua smiled. "Say what you will, but it's been ten years since I ran away, so I can’t go back to using the manners of a member of the imperial court so easily. I’ll stick to talkin’ like this for a while still.”

"...Why did you leave the palace?"

At Eirika’s question, Joshua corrected his expression. "I couldn’t adjust to such a formal way of life. I wanted to see the world. If I stayed holed up in here, I wouldn't know what's in the people's hearts. I wanted to cast away my status, travel around the continent, and obtain the strength needed to become a proper king… that's what I wrote in my letter before I ran off. When I think about it now, it was all really stupid. It doesn't matter how noble my intentions were. What I probably wanted more was to rebel against my mother.

“She only concerned herself with the government, and ignored me… that's how I saw it, and I was always sulking over it. I never thought even once about just how much she was going through… Instead, I thought that maybe she would have one less thing to worry about if I was gone, and she would praise me if I came back as a man she could be proud of… but all of those thoughts were so very childish."

Joshua bit his lip in regret. "However, all of the experiences I had over the past ten years were very valuable. I saw how the lowest of the low live. I saw how people in poverty help each other out and survive together. Those are things I never would have known anything about if I had stayed in the palace. I don't think all of that time was spent in vain. I just regret not making it back in time when Jehanna was in danger… and not being able to save my mother."

"Joshua." Innes stepped forward. He reached into his jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a small envelope that he'd always kept on his person since they'd left Frelia. "I brought an official letter from Frelia with me. I was supposed to give it to the queen of Jehanna, but now, I want to give it to you, as you will inherit the throne. Will you take it?"

"It would be an honor." Joshua took the envelope, but before opening it, he said to Innes, "Let's fight together. We cannot allow Grado to go unpunished for their violence! If we combine our strength, then we can put an end to the Emperor's cruel ambitions!"

"Of course!" 

Joshua extended his hand, and Innes firmly shook it.

L'Arachel then said, "Renais, Frelia, Rausten, and now, Jehanna. With this, the four countries of the continent have joined together! However strong the Empire is, they cannot compare to the might of our alliance!" 

"I'm sure Brother will be overjoyed once he hears of our alliance!" Eirika added with a smile, but deep down, she had another thought that she could not say aloud.

How happy would he be if Lyon was able to join their alliance, too? If the five countries worked together to build the future? Right now, that was just a dream.

"I have something to ask all of you." Joshua said. "It's about Mother. We can't have a grand funeral given the circumstances, but I at least want her to be properly buried. Will you attend the funeral and help her cross over?"

"Of course, Joshua, we’ll…" L'Arachel started to answer, but was cut off half way into her sentence. 

A loud commotion sounded from the staircase. A soldier rushed down the stairs with such force that it sounded like he had missed a step and come tumbling down them. "We're in trouble! The entire palace is on fire! Please get out right away!"

"What!?"

The soldier's face paled, and he explained, "Someone poured oil throughout the castle before we arrived! It is so strong that we cannot put it out!"

"Who could have come up with such a plan…!?" Eirika gasped. 

Joshua answered, "It was likely Caellach. It seems like something he would do. Whether you win or lose, you can't let your guard down around him."

"Let's go, Joshua!"

Joshua looked at Queen Ismaire's body. They couldn't afford the time to carry her out with them.

His face twisted in regret, and he bowed. "Please forgive me, Mother."

The smell of the burning building quickly began to fill their noses. They all ran up the stairs and fled Jehanna Palace.

[ka-za-ri]

Prize Pt 2

Henlo! more commissioned smut? Heck yeah!! Uh... I suck at summaries, so please enjoy the Satan smut. I’m sorry, but also not really... ‘cause I will never apologize for slammin’ down some pr0nz your way. Enjoy! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Pairing: Satan x Reader Genre: smut Wordcount: 6,200 ish   Tags: Demon Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink Summary: Now that you’ve pieced together what’s going on, it’s up to you to take control of this game.

Match Point

After your private ‘study session’ with Asmodeus, something changed among the brothers. Their attempts became much more candid. As if a seal had been broken, it was common now for one of them to make a scene at the table first thing in the morning to usurp your time after classes. Even if none of them had stated what their damn game was, it was clearly a competition to claim your body as theirs. Asmo’s brief mention of having children together only helped confirm the suspicion you had ever since the beginning.

Now that you had a better idea of what they were plotting, it became easier to predict their plans. Even if you knew what they were up to, it didn’t mean that you had the ability to avoid them until another breaking point like what happened with Asmo. Whether it was to stay late and do some ‘make up’ work with Lucifer or to have an innocent ‘movie night’ with Belphegor, you came to expect some level of intimacy with every one of your meetings with the brothers.

At least now with their plan mostly exposed, you knew who you wanted to be with if your hypothesis was true. Unfortunately for you, trying to get any sort of dedicated time with Satan was nearly impossible unless he initiated due to how his brothers were playing. Not only that, out of all of his brothers, he seemed to be the most detached from the game. His aloof, nonchalant strategy attracted you if only because he seemed much safer to be around.

As the days passed, it became more difficult to dodge their advances; and at some point, it was normal to find yourself whisked from one raunchy whirlwind fuck to another. Any spare time you had was essentially dedicated to avoiding them if you could. Whether it was due to luck or it was his game plan to the competition, Satan approached you with a deal.

“Study date?” he suggested, pointing in the direction of the library one day before breakfast. “There’s a test in Demon History later next week, and I know you were sleeping through it.”

You sighed in relief. A day without anyone accosting you seemed like a dream. The fact that Satan had specifically pointed out the library gave you enough security to feel like he wasn’t going to try any sort of funny business. Though there were lingering doubts about his intentions, a chance to just get away from it all was ideal; and it gave you the chance you were looking for to spend time with him.

Any attempts Mammon made at the table that day were quickly shot down with confidence. Your preapproved arrangements with Satan gave you the peace of mind that you’d be able to rest your body as well as get some actual studying done. You knew your notes weren’t the best; and with how studious he was, you were sure you could bribe Satan to let you copy his own.

“Thanks,” you mumbled once you met up with him at the library.

“For what?” he looked up from his book and cocked an eyebrow.

“For you know…getting me away from all that today. You know how chaotic it’s been. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I’m only making sure you pass that test,” he shrugged and went back to his book. “I’d hate for the average of the class to drop because you’re not doing well.”

Due to all the antics that ensued among the brothers, it was odd the most calming thing you could do was to actually knuckle down and study. You didn’t think fretting over your classes would be less stressful than finding a way to discreetly avoid everyone; yet there you were, copying notes and trying to make sense of the Demonic timeline. Things were only made worse when prominent members of Demonic society started to time travel.

“How do you even pass a test with all this information in it?” you lamented, idly flipping through the textbook. You understood the words on the pages separately; but when you tried to comprehend them together, it was practically a different language to you.

Satan put down his book and looked at the pages you were grumbling over. He shrugged and took back his notebook once he saw you were done copying everything down. “Memorize it. It doesn’t have to make sense if you just know everything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve only lived through half of this history.”

“Not really. Closer to maybe about 10% of it. The others? Maybe a quarter of it. History is very long, longer if you count all the time travel.”

“I don’t want to count all of the time travel.”

“It’s going to be on the test,” he warned.

“Ugh, fine. Just help me with how to make sense of this chart then,” you turned the textbook over to him on the page with an extensive, yet somehow it was still labeled ‘abbreviated,’ flowchart of Demonic history. “If I can memorize this, then maybe my grade won’t be too bad.”

He chuckled, looking over the page and pointing out the key events you would need to know. “A lot of this is just found in trivia games. The more important stuff is going to be underlined in red.”

You nodded, picking up your pen to start jotting down the important dates but then paused when you got a few lines in. “Wait. Almost everything is underlined in red.”

“Guess there’s a lot of important stuff in there.”

You huffed, realizing that you weren’t getting anymore help than he was willing to give. It was already a breakthrough for you that he was even willing to tolerate your presence alone for a longer period of time than necessary. The tranquil ambiance of the library seemed to bring out a more mellow side of him. Having a time and a place where none of the other brothers could bother you did wonders to your blood pressure and mentality. 

Hours passed as you poured your heart into memorizing as much as you could before you were kicked out of the library. With how chaotic things were outside of that sacred quiet place, you didn’t know when the next time you would get any sort of quiet time to study would be. Your eyes ached, and your brain struggled to remember the last thing you read by the time Satan suggested leaving.

“Do you think you’ll do well?”

“Depends on how much of all of this is going to be retained,” you shrugged. “Hopefully it’ll be good enough to pass.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t let me down. I’d hate to see you be the reason the class average goes down,” he teased.

You pouted, even more determined to pass now more than ever. “Fine. Whatever, just help me study again next week. There’s an Advanced Sigils  test soon, and I still don’t understand half of what’s going on.”

“Are you really having trouble in that class, or are you just trying to spend more time with me?” he raised a brow, curious as to how you would answer his inquiry.

“Is it not allowed to be both? If I’m studying with you it means I don’t get bombarded with requests to go out, and I get to actually do some schoolwork. Do you know how hard that is to do when Levi is rattling off TSL trivia in the middle of trying to do homework? At least you’re willing to do it in the library, and I’m guaranteed a few hours of real concentration time.”

Satan chuckled, his eyes crinkling in untold joy at your words, “Well then, let’s make it a regular thing then,” he suggested. “I will admit, it was nice to have you around for company.”

You broke out in a grin, feeling as though some progress was finally being made with him. Seeing him like this, unbothered by the presence of his brothers, softened the generally haughty nature he displayed when around others. You’d hold onto the precious softness he showed you for as long as you could, so asking for more study dates with him seemed to be the most logical thing to do.

“So, see you next week?”

“Same time, same place,” he confirmed.

~~

Study dates with Satan were the thing you looked forward to the most during your week. Often, you found yourself daydreaming about the next peaceful date with him in the library. It gave you the sanity to survive the otherwise hectic life you lead. Having a predetermined break in your week also gave you time to figure out what to do the next week when it came to dodging as many advances as you could from the others.

You always felt safe with him. Perhaps it was because you always met with him in a public space, or perhaps it was just because he never overtly tried anything with you. The two of you stayed a respectable distance from one another with no pretenses or ulterior motives. With all the chaos that surrounded you, it was nice to actually have a dedicated time to get away from it all and focus on classes or daydream about times back in your realm. Satan didn’t seem bothered with your dozing off unless he knew there was a test looming near. Then, he would put some effort into pointing out the right books to pull from the library to aid your struggles. If he felt merciful, he would offer to tutor you, though that opportunity rarely presented itself. Even if Satan was in on the competition, at least it didn’t seem like he was intent on making his move during those peaceful moments.

So, when he abruptly disappeared in the middle of the week and refused to answer any of your messages, you quickly became worried about his well being. None of the others mentioned his condition, and they all carried on with their lives as if his disappearance was normal. You heard vague whispers, but nothing you could make out or really understand.

You didn’t admit it to anyone, but you missed Satan. Not just because of the quiet times you got to spend with him, but his overall aura and company kept you sane. To have that go missing without warning was a shock to your system, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

“Is Satan sick?” you brought up the topic finally during breakfast while the others went about their morning routines. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

“He’ll get over what he’s got in a day or two. It shouldn’t be much longer,” Lucifer answered calmly with a shrug, his eyes never leaving the article he was reading on his D.D.D.

“None of you are worried? I mean, he’s just gone for half a week, and you don’t question it?”

“Aww, you really don’t gotta worry yourself over him,” Mammon reassured with a pat on your shoulder. “All of us gotta go through it too. He’s just unlucky that he’s gotta go through it now while you’re around.”

“Wait. What?” you blinked, trying to understand what they were talking about. The way Mammon talked about it and how nonchalant everyone was made it seem like it was a normal occurrence. Your mind went through the notes you had taken during Demonic Culture Studies in an attempt to figure out if it was some sort of rite of passage for demons when they became a certain age. Nothing clicked.

It wasn’t until you heard Asmodeus skipping out of the room that you recalled what he had said weeks ago.

“Makes me wish I was rutting right now so I could breed you over and over again.”

Ah. Maybe, just maybe...

The term was vaguely familiar to you. You were sure you had heard it during a lecture at some point, but couldn’t remember which one. Luckily, after a quick search online, you were able to get an idea of what he might be going through. If your suspicions proved to be true, it would be an ideal opportunity for you to play the game in a way that would guarantee your favor. Running through your schedule and obligations, you cleared up the rest of your day, determined to get to the bottom of all of this.

“Are you alright? I haven’t seen you around in a few days,” you knocked on his door after classes, hoping to get some answers. Satan had been avoiding everyone; and though you had an inkling as to why, you needed to confirm it for yourself.

You didn’t dare to breathe while you waited for the door to open. You could hear him get up and move around. Just as you thought he would finally let you in, there was a long uncomfortable moment of silence. You could feel him hesitate before finally turning the handle and cracking the door open just a bit. “Sorry, I haven’t been feeling well…”

From what you could see through the tiny crack, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. His normally messy hair was even more unkempt than usual. It was clear he didn’t want to be anywhere near you, but disappearing for days on end without notice was concerning. The others seemed to know what was going on, but kept themselves mum about it all. It was frustrating to have to take things into your own hands and figure things out for yourself.

“I got notes from class for you,” you offered, reaching into your bag and pulling out your notebook. “I actually paid attention in class and started using the shorthand you showed me, and let me tell you, it’s definitely helped me out a lot the past week. The professor was talking so fast,” you started to ramble, just glad to see his face again. It felt like ages since you got to talk to him and having contact with him made you drop your guard in a heartbeat. “Did you want me to copy them for you? I can also help you with homework. I promise I haven’t slept through any of my classes lately.”

“It’s fine,” his reply came out strained and rather curt. “I already have notes, Levi dropped them off for me earlier.”

That was a lie, and both of you knew it. You knew better than to push your luck with him. Satan had a propensity to lash out, but something told you to persist. Jamming your foot into the door as he tried to close it, you ignored the pain and pushed through to gain access to his room. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. This isn’t like you.” You stepped past the threshold of his room and looked around.

The piles of books he surrounded himself with didn’t seem to be in terrible disarray. It was the first time you had actually stepped foot in his private quarters, and you took a moment to look around. While you were distracted, Satan took the time to close the door and turn the lock to it. Now that you were in his space, the aura he had tried to suppress came out in full force. He stalked around you like a cat waiting to pounce. His eyes trained on your body as he circled around you, his footsteps light and quiet.

It didn’t take much for you to notice the slight change in his demeanor. One moment he was looking absolutely sickly and unwell, the next moment he was pacing around you. The way he watched your every move was unsettling, and you tried to offset the unease you felt by placing your arms over your chest. Huffing in annoyance that he was still being rather cryptic, you started to demand the answers no one was bothering to tell you. “So, are you going to tell me, or are you just going to walk around looking at me?”

“I’m not… well,” he said, the last vestiges slipping from his control now that you were so close to him. He didn’t want to break the tentative trust the two of you had built over the last few weeks. He wanted to think he was better than what his hormones were telling him to do with you; but since the opportunity presented itself so neatly to him, it was hard to pass up. While you tapped your foot impatiently for an answer, he let go of the last bit of control he had on his hormones; and an odd calm washed over him. A haze settled over his mind as he let himself be carried away by instinct. He would find time to apologize to you later, after he won.

“You don’t look that bad. Maybe a little sleep deprived...” You reached up to touch his forehead, checking for his temperature. He didn’t seem particularly warm, but you didn’t really have a very good frame of reference for what normal demon body temperature should be like. It wasn’t until you got a closer look at his complexion that you noticed how dark his eyes had become and how flushed his cheeks were. “Okay, maybe I take that back...”

You pulled your hand back just a second too late. He reached out and held onto your wrist firmly, the barest trace of a smirk played at the corner of his lips. He understood that you were saying things to him, the words were supposed to make sense; but in his addled state, it was hard for him to care about anything other than the hunger roiling within him. With just your slightest touch, you destroyed the little bit of control he worked so hard to maintain around you.

It didn’t matter anymore. You had squandered your last chance to leave when you touched him. He had you cornered in his own territory. The hunt was over, and he could finally play this damned game on his own terms. He had been so patient, biding his time and waiting for the right moment. His rut came upon him just as he was about to make his move, and he was sure he had missed his chance with you. However, you had chosen to walk into his room even knowing he wasn’t well. You had chosen to seek him out, almost as if you knew what he was going through. Maybe it’s fate…

With a strength he rarely showed, he pulled you to the bed tucked in the corner of his room and nearly threw you onto it. He exuded an aura that shot down any protests you might have had about his rough treatment of you.

He moved according to instinct, wedging his knee between your legs and pushing you down onto the soft covers of his bed. “I think you can understand how I’m not well. After all, from what I remember you saying, you passed that biology test with flying colors.”

“I…yes...” It was only a matter of time before you bedded him. It was the most fortunate of circumstances that it happened during a time when he was holing himself away due to a rut. You couldn’t have planned it any better. The rules had never been said out loud, but Asmodeus’ words held so much more weight and meaning to them than you could ever imagine. “Maybe I do know what I’m getting into.”

“Good girl. Then I won’t have to explain myself,” he purred, nuzzling your neck and ran his lips across your skin. His voice was pitched in a way that made you shiver. There was much more passion in the simple gesture than anything else he had ever shown you publicly. Your unique scent seemed to fill his whole head and made him dizzy. He pulled you closer with one arm around your waist and he took a deep breath to memorize just how you smelled right before he took you. The intimacy was strange, but not unwelcome. You wondered if he would be anything like this if his mind wasn’t so influenced by his hormones. His fingers found your chin, tilting it up to meet him eye to eye. “I’m sorry.”

Satan didn’t give you time to think about the oddly gentle apology before his lips found your own in a heated kiss. He claimed your mouth greedily, running his tongue across your lips just once as a forewarning before it delved into your mouth, tracing your teeth and swallowing your moans. One hand on your chin kept your head tilted just the way he wanted, his other hand laced itself into your hair and held you steady as he claimed you like he had already won.

He didn’t want his first time with you to be like this. It was supposed to be sweet, romantic and soft; not what a demon in heat was going to be like. Perhaps knowing that he wasn’t the first to get to you was what drove him to want to possess you even more. If anything, he at least knew that the state he was in granted him the best chance of victory over all his brothers. Perhaps they would call it cheating; but he considered it good luck with a hint of strategy that got him to where he was.

He pinned your arms above your head with one hand, keeping you firmly in place while his other hand swiftly slid under your skirt. Curling a finger, he pressed it against your heat. Even though the two of you had only kissed, he was pleasantly surprised to feel quite a bit of dampness between your legs through the fabric. It felt like after a couple of run-ins with his other brothers, your body seemed to be primed for the taking at any moment. His luck didn’t seem to be running out anytime soon.

Your gasp brought him out of the haze of lust for a brief moment only to have him redouble his efforts into making you squirm for him. He had the darkest, most wild look in his eyes as he watched your every movement. It pleased a deep part of him that out of all his brothers, he was the one who was able to get you to squirm and whimper like this. It wasn’t hard to hear how the others made you feel; they didn’t make much of an effort to hide what they were doing to you. It was a bit shameful for him to admit to himself just how he had memorized your breathy sighs late into the night.

What wasn’t shameful was just how different it sounded when you were so close to him, and there weren’t any walls to muffle the pretty noises you could make when you were given pleasure. His knuckle pressed against your heat a little harder; and out of instinct, your legs spread wide, giving him access to your body. He played you like he had studied you for decades. As if he knew which part of your body would make you sing the loudest for him.

Satan’s lips peppered kisses all over your heated skin as he worked you up to the peak of your arousal. He buried his head at the crook of your neck, taking time to lick and suck the sensitive skin there. He nipped you with his teeth in between his kisses. Nothing hard enough to break skin, yet enough to leave dark marks proving to anyone who saw where he had been.

Your fingers tingled from being pinned down so firmly, but all that felt negligible compared to how he was making you feel with just his lips and his finger against your clothed heat. You rolled your hips to meet his knuckle, encouraging him to keep going. “Ah…Satan...” you breathed, your eyelids fluttering when he pressed just right against your clit.

Outwardly, he didn’t show it; but his heart sang when he heard you call his name that way. There was nothing quite like the elation he felt when he realized just how much power he had over you. The instincts that guided him only egged him to go further to get even more sounds from you. His need to breed and fill you with his seed only grew the warmer you body became thanks to his ministrations. He didn’t care if you wouldn’t last much longer. No, now that you were in his territory, he owned you; and he had so many more plans to exact after one climax.

“Don’t you dare think about moving your hands from where they are,” he growled, loosening his grip on your hands momentarily. You flexed your fingers just to get circulation back into them, other than that, you complied to his demands without question. His hand now free to roam your body made quick work of your uniform. He had the decency to at least make an attempt to not rip apart everything, though in his haste, you swore you heard a seam tear at some point.

You laid bare, save for your panties, under him; and it was a sight he was going to remember for the rest of his life. There was an innate fear in your expression that made you irresistible to him. In one swift motion, he divested you from the last piece of clothing you had on. There was no denying just how aroused you were with the bit of resistance your underwear gave him as he pulled it away from you. He could clearly smell how excited you were from just the little bit of teasing you had done.

Swooping in to give you a torrid kiss, it was too easy for him to slide two fingers into your wet heat. Your moans were muffled by his lips as he worked his digits in and out of you. The pace was just enough to have you seeing stars and gasping for air anytime his lips left yours for a brief moment. In a moment when you had your eyes closed, when he curled his fingers just right inside of you, you heard an unfamiliar rustling sound. When you cracked open your eyes again, you saw grand, curling horns framing his face.

After his transformation, the pace changed once again. There was almost a malicious glint in his eyes as he watched your expression change the closer you got to your climax. He had dreamed of this moment so many times before. To see it happen in front of him was a wondrous sort of magic, a magic he had complete control over. “Remember to say my name when you cum,” he growled before using his thumb to rub your clit alongside what his fingers were doing to you.

You choked back a sob as your body shuddered in the wake of your orgasm. His name did leave your lips at that moment as he demanded. You were also sure anyone else in the building could also hear you as you called out for him while your inner walls clenched around his fingers, soaking the digits in your essence.

He pulled his fingers out of you and looked at just how coated they were with your juices. While you recovered from your climax, Satan took a moment to lick his fingers clean, his long tongue lapped up the slick mess on his fingers as he hummed in approval at your unique flavor. It would make claiming you much more special now that he knew how you tasted as well.

You only had the time it took for him to remove his clothes to recover from your orgasm before he took control once again. “Hands and knees,” he demanded and you scrambled onto your quaking limbs to comply with his needs.

You could see your faint reflection in the window in front of you.The outline of your body and his prepared you for what was to come next. You felt the bed dip with his added weight as he lined himself up behind you. There was no additional preamble before he sank his length into you and started a brutal pace that had you clutching onto the sheets below to prevent you from moving too much. Having already cum once, sliding into you was too easy; and with how tightly your walls were around him, it only made the first pass feel that much more rewarding. Even if you never got a chance to properly see the unique shape of his cock before he buried himself into you, you definitely felt every particular ridge and divot he had.

He lost himself the moment he entered you. Gone was any notion of soft loving and romance. All he had within him was the innate need to breed, to see you filled to the brim with his seed. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of finally fucking you and how he was going to continue to fuck you until both of you passed out from exhaustion.

“You have… No idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.” His nails dug into the flesh of your hips, helping you stay right where he wanted you. He couldn’t care less about being too rough with you, not when your moans were encouraging him. He could see your face scrunched up in pleasure whenever he glanced up at the faint reflection on the window. The scratches he left on your skin welted up so beautifully, it only drove him to dig his nails deeper into you until you bled. His need to mark you overpowered any common sense he had.

The pain and the pleasure you felt mixed into something so much more than you had ever experienced. He had given you no time to adjust to his girth and length before he started fucking you in earnest. Even if you didn’t get a chance to see it, you could feel the tip of a hard, bulbous knot press against your entrance with each hard thrust. You clung to the sheets underneath you for dear life, riding out the brutal pace. He didn’t moan as much as he growled whenever your walls clung to the ridges of his cock just right. Satan leaned over, biting your shoulder hard enough to where his canines broke skin. Seeing your blood well up in contrast to your complexion only had him craving for you even more. He licked at the wound he created while he continued to rail into you, your cries sending him into bliss.

He could tell you were close to another climax; and just when you thought you would crest over, he stopped his pace abruptly, pulling out of you without warning just to flip you over and reenter you. Satan grabbed onto your leg, propping it against his shoulder before he resumed fucking your abused hole. With the new angle he was granted, he took more measured strokes, letting you fully experience everything his cock had to offer you. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the exertion, but the high he was getting from ramming his length into you over and over was worth the exhaustion he would feel later once the brunt of his needs were sated.

He could feel you ramping up for yet another orgasm. It would be the last push he needed to fully embed himself inside of you. His thrusts slowed, if only to press his knot against your entrance, letting you feel the sting and burn of being stretched out to accommodate the last few inches of his length. You whined, feeling both the need to accept him but also a bit of fear, wondering if that was even a possibility.

He seemed to notice your trepidation and leaned in for a surprisingly soft kiss considering how roughly he had treated you thus far. “Soon,” he said, his voice hoarse and gravely. He pressed his hips forward again, and you forgot to breathe as you were pushed to your limits. Satan pulled back only to repeat the motion once more. “Soon...” he growled again, his cock twitched in anticipation, knowing what was to come.

Subconsciously, his tail wrapped around your leg, tightly squeezing it as if to reassure you it would all be alright. He showered your neck and collarbone with kisses before reaching in between your bodies and rubbing your clit. “I know you’re close. Cum for me, and accept all of me...”

The combination of his low voice so close to your ear and the stimulation of his fingers gave you all you needed to once again reach your climax. Your walls pulsed around him, pulling him further into you; and it gave him just the little extra push he needed to fully seat himself within you with a satisfying “pop” sensation. His breathing wavered as he relished in the feeling of being buried within you so intimately. Looking down, he could see your entrance throbbing around his length, the sight of being joined with you in such a way had his heart soaring. All the time he spent with you, keeping you at arms length for this moment was so worth it.

You on the other hand needed to contend with both the feeling of your orgasm as well as being filled far beyond anything you had ever experienced before. His knot kept him lodged within you for as long as it took for him to be properly satiated. He waited, feeling your walls clench tightly around him before feebly caressing his hard length once the most intense part of your orgasm passed.

“Good girl,” he purred. His expression was surprisingly soft and loving as he brushed your hair out of your face. Now came the part that he had been looking forward to the most, the part that his body had been craving ever since you willingly walked into his territory. He rocked his pelvis slowly, causing you to gasp and accommodate him. He didn’t have the freedom of movement to thrust into you as he did before, but the subtle jerking motion of his hips rocking against you gave you enough stimulation to have you seeing stars and gasping for air.

“Satan...” you whimpered, your eyelids fluttering as you struggled to get a hold of yourself above everything you were feeling.

The sound of your voice calling out for him only made him rock more insistently into you, pressing further and further, deeper until the tip of his cock pushed against your cervix. The fullness, the pain, the pleasure, it was all beyond anything you could ever imagine; and just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, you felt him release inside of you, a guttural moan coming from his lips as he finally climaxed.

He buried his head at the crook of your neck, desperately sucking and nipping at your skin. The warmth of his seed filled your hot caverns and spilled out, coating your thighs and the sheets below you despite his knot still being crammed tightly into your entrance. The amount of cum he pumped into you felt unfathomable as he seemed to climax for an eternity, his body trembling above your own in the aftermath of such an intense release. “Good girl...” he purred again, kissing the dark marks he had left on your skin.

The haze of need dissipated from his eyes now that he finally let go of his pent up desires. When his heartbeat finally settled a bit, he coaxed you to lay on your side facing him while he was still connected to you. He sighed in content, brushing your hair from your face. His legs tangled up with yours while his tail lazily swished from side to side, grazing your calf lovingly from time to time.

As you basked in the afterglow, you finally had a chance to admire him in his true form. Your fingers idly played with his hair and traced the curves of his horns. He sighed softly, eyelids fluttering in the softness that came after such a rough session. It wasn’t what he expected out of you visiting him, but he was glad for the outcome.

“Well, you look like you’re much better now.”

“Maybe a little. But I think a few more rounds will be needed to really get me on the road to recovery.”

You paused everything you were doing, feeling your body react to the possibility of even more sex with him. Blinking you gave him a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding right? I’m already half dead after one round.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready to accept the consequences of seeing me when I’m unwell like this,” he purred, flexing his hips to remind you that he was very much still inside of you, “but for now, rest.” He pulled you close, kissing you on the forehead and pulling the sheets over the two of you. “I hope you don’t have anything else planned for the rest of the day.”

You giggled, snuggling up against his chest, settling for much needed comfort and a nap. “Well, taking care of an unwell friend is more important than anything else I had scheduled.”

“Hmm, Good answer.”

[thetakenpokemon]

Callan@Iniko: "... Queen Thalassa? Your Highness, what brings you-- ... oh." The tall Milotic warrior hesitates, the excitement and curiosity in his eyes yielding to shock, and then fallen into embarrassment. Clearing his throat, he addresses, "... Er... forgive me, madame. I... mistook you for, er, someone else. Still..." with a cleared conscience, he asks, "... 'tis not often I see a -hybrid- of Tapu Fini. Tell me... what powers dost a maiden like yourself wield with such blended heredity?"

[PoV: Iniko]

Another voice speaks to my person, catching me fairly by surprise. I didn’t quite expect for the locals to actually be approaching me, since I was quite sure that I was the one that needed to come to them...

What really confuses me is that the speaker addresses me with such familiarity, yet the name that they utter is completely unknown.

...Queen? Surely they don’t mean me.

When I turn to look at the individual, I find myself blinking a few times as I look at what I could describe as to be ‘the finest the sea has to offer’. As quite stunning as he appears to be, I don’t recognize him at all. From the looks of his expression morphing into something akin to embarrassment, it shows that he too realizes that we have never met.

I myself couldn’t help but be flustered, but mostly due to the fact that he mistook me for someone else. This...is definitely a first.

“It is quite fine.” I say with an awkward chuckle, waving him off. “If I must say? It is quite a surprise that you’ve mistaken me for another, since it’s an occurrence that I can’t say have ever happened before.”

So it seems that there are still other Tapu Fini out in the world, or at a least hybrid of some sort. Hearing this...actually makes feel a bit relieved, to know that not all of the Legendary Pokemon in the world have disappeared.

I find myself driven from my thoughts as the anthromorphic Milotic asks me a question, making the gaze of my blue eyes snap onto him.

“Maiden? There is no need to address me as such.” I wave him off for a second time, my face threatening to gain a red hue. “Well...” As I focus on the question, I feel myself slowly regain my composure. “For my abilities...? As a bearer of Tapu Fin-” I stop myself, remembering that there are multiples out there. “...As a bearer of a Tapu Fini, I possess a multitude of powers that such a Legendary would normally wield.”

I open a palm, the action causing a small stream of white mist to drift out into the air. “Like them, I wield the power of water. Be it to conjure and wield its shapeless form or to utilize it in its gaseous state - which is mist.” I close my palm, causing the growing cloud of fog that’s surrounding my arm to dissipate. “Additionally I can breathe and move freely in water. I also possess the ability to purify large bodies of it as well, regardless of pollution levels.” There’s a twinge of pride when I say this, since I’ve purified a couple of severally polluted rivers during my visits in the outside world. “It’s a power I share with Phinelia, who’s the bearer of Suicu-” I stop myself, not sure if I should continue. Although I’ve been told that there’s not really a reason to hide the existence of the other Sisters, I feel a bit uncomfortable with bringing up the fact.

Diverting the subject, I continue. “And...I wouldn’t necessarily call this ability, but I sustain myself by absorbing the energy that’s derived from moving water. Although I can obtain sustenance from things such as rivers and streams, ocean currents is what satisfies me the most. I tend to make do with whatever I find, since I can’t...well...” I gesture to my face, or more specifically my lack of mouth. “...You get the picture.”

One thing I left out is the fact that my power is most strongest when I’m on my home island, since that is where the source of my power originates. Even though I’m technically far stronger than most individuals on the outside world, this is info that should probably be left to ourselves.

...Hopefully Miyako isn’t running her mouth to others about this.

Realizing that my expression has shifted into one of annoyance, I quickly shake my head and let out another awkward laugh. “But that is essentially my Tapu Fini side. Since I was originally a normal Medicham, I still retain several skills from that side. I’d like to think that I’m some of the best of my kind when it comes to martial arts, which is further enhanced by the power of a Legendary.”

I’ve left out a few things, but this should be more than enough to satisfy his question...hopefully. “I believe that summarizes what I’m capable of, albeit without me getting into the specifics. Although...”

At this point I’m unable to contain my curiosity, and like an open book it’s definitely spelled clearly across my face too. “You mentioned of a Queen? Thalassa was her name, correct?” I subconsciously take a few steps towards him, my eyes brimming with fascination. “It is a first for me to hear of another Legendary that exists in this world, most especially one who is related to Tapu Fini. Could you tell me about her?” Realizing that I may be overstepping a possible boundary, I quickly take a few steps back and raise my hands in a disarming manner. “...If you’re fine with indulging such information to me, that is!”

Sheesh, so much for saving face and keeping a calm and serene image. First my ‘mask’ got blown to pieces by a cloud-like dog, and now this. I do hope that if the original owner of my power isn’t somehow watching me right now, otherwise I’d have the feeling that she would be very...very disappointed in my behavior.

Another thought occurs to me and I can’t help but mentally kick myself, another strike that said originator of my power would probably be disappointed for. “Also... I believe I’ve forgotten to introduce myself as well, I apologize for my rudeness.” I place my hands together and give a bow, albeit a rather quick one. “My name is Iniko, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

[fenikkusunohisana]

Internal Affairs

“This scandal cannot be allowed to continue. We are a laughingstock.” “What was he thinking ?” “He clearly was not. If he had been, that filth would not have been brought in  here, wouldn’t it ?” “I am certain he regrets falling for that woman’s wicked features. It is  easy to see how she beguiled him with her feminine charms. Who would not fall for that witch?” Gathered in the gloom of the descending evening, high ranking officials within the Kuchiki clan were having a exclusive meeting far from the estate Without Byakuya of course. For the topic of conversation was not one he would have been pleased about. And should he ever learn of these meetings, his displeasure would be unfortunate to witness.

Yet, despite the comments, they respected him.He was the rightful heir to the clan and had the notable lineage, as well as, upbringing to manage the clan. What they had an issue with...was what he decided to marry and by extension, adopted as well. The latter, they had no choice but to begrudgingly accept as she moved through the ranks to captaincy.  Perhaps even, the fact she was strong and garnered good attention..lessened their resentment. Rukia was probably salvageable..if lineage was forgotten. Still a parasite but..more tolerated. Her elder sister...useless. They could not understand what Byakuya saw in her. What the appeal was. She was pretty for a commoner..would make a good prostitute or whore ..but a head of a clan’s wife ? No. She was sickly or had been at least..which puts into question her ability to produce an heir even if they accepted her. Then there was her lack of understanding of the social graces, knowledge and etiquette that came with being from a noble house. No amount of training could change who or what she was. Simply put, Hisana did not belong in their world and if Byakuya could not see it..then they will help him. “That woman has got to go. For the good of everyone, especially Kuchiki-sama. Once he is freed of that burden, he will be free to marry someone closer to his status. Then he can have an heir and continue our bloodline. Even that other ‘blemish’, her sister, can be overlooked if this..happened.” “You make it sound so easy. If Kuchiki-sama found out, we will all be dead..even if it is for his sake.” “I already have a very plausible and convincing plan in mind. It will work..if everything is performed perfectly and efficiently.” Shifting closer, the group of at least seven listened attentively as their underhanded and wretched plans were whispered in the darkness. ------------🌸🌸🌸🌸-----A week and a half later----🌸🌸🌸---------

Hisana had a book laid on a table before her, contentedly enjoying the quiet of the early afternoon as she tried to focus and learn more about her clan, the noble houses and the history of Soul Society. Slender brows were furrowed a s she concentrated. Needless to say, if she did not take notes, she would have forgotten what she read two sentences ago. It may take some time but the summarized notes should help retain the knowledge and be key in reviewing the information later. A soft sigh escaped her lips. It was not that it was boring..it was...just a lot of information. She was making progress..slowly but surely. At the very least, she was in her room, where disturbance was minimal and she could take a break as needed. Her brush paused in its strokes as a familiar reiatsu approached. His footsteps were silent as always but..his aura she knew like the back of her hand. Returning the brush to the ink well, Hisana rose to her feet and went towards the door in time to see her husband in his Captain’s attire. Hm~ A soft smile alighted upon her fair features, eyes shining with vibrance and gentle warmth, reserved for him alone. “Have a good day, Byakuya-sama. “ She inclined her head politely,  genuinely..happy to see him. Expressing herself to him was still..a hurdle but she was trying. It was difficult to gauge sometimes..whether she was overstepping her boundaries or not. Case in point..this request.  “Perhaps..if it is early enough upon your return and you are not too tired,..we can go for a walk and enjoy the stars ? “ Hisana was hesitant. Yet, she kept her voice as soft and as even as possible. She understood he was a busy man and did not wish to interfere in his work..but she was also aware..for their relationship to get better..there had to be an attempt.  That did not stop the nervousness and anxiety from clawing at her chest. Hisana was prepared for either response but..she also hoped he said /yes/. If he said no, then she would understand. It may hurt but it was a gamble. Navigating this relationship was just as foreign to her..as it was for him. The only love she knew or remembered, was the one she bore for Rukia. And that..was a different kind of love altogether.  Byakuya..was the first person..to have made his way into her heart , outside of Rukia. It was no easy feat. Hisana..was not an easy person to love..either, at least not in her eyes. Even now, it was a battle to accept that..despite the things she had done..despite..how dirty she was..he still cherished her..for who she was and not..what she did. And she did not feel as if she deserved that pureness of affection. Never thought it existed for her..and yet..here he was. It was strange. Yet, it was one of the many things she had to overcome..and at the very least, was cognizant of the fact that he would be next to her for as long as it took. And..she’d do the same.

@scnkei​​

[willkillforgoodmemories]

Schools Re-imagined

Okay fellow guys, gays and ladies (all beings are invited), TODAY on quaran-talks (get it, quarantine but replace the tine with talks, never mind), we will be 

“RE-IMAGINING SCHOOLS” (Mostly High school and it’s equivalents around the world)

so that they actually do their job and prepare us for the real world, which they haven’t. They have, however given me sleep-deprived days, traumatic memories and snakes for friends. 

ASPECT NUMBER ONE

Changing when school starts. I mean, whose lovely idea was to start school at 8.00. Many schools also start schools at 8.30 but lord, imagine how happy we all will be if schools opened a little later.

  According to the National Sleep Foundation, the sleep requirement for teenagers is between 8-10 hours per night. That indicates that the earliest healthy wake-up time for teens should not be before 7 a.m.

I propose that schools start not earlier than 9.00 am. That way one does not have to bear with the absolute feeling of grogginess of completing tasks on auto-pilot (when you complete tasks by doing the bare minimum because your brain is not awake), not rushing through morning routines (rushing can cause stress and anxiety) and can start the day on a good note.  All those you thrive on 3-4 hour naps, it is in no way healthy and in some ways, not even your mistake. Moving on,

ASPECT NUMBER TWO

The marvellous blame-game. The student is usually the pawn. Don’t get the concept while in class, the teacher will probably say that you weren’t listening. 

Ma’am or Sir, it’s your job to make sure the students understand what you teach. Be patient and stop telling them it’s wrong if they don’t understand the concept.It won’t hurt if you take out some time and teach them the concept again. 

If you don’t get the concept during homework and use the reference guide, the parents will usually say that they weren’t paying attention in class and should know it. The reference material was made for a reason, and that was so that the student could use it. If the student wasn’t able to understand in class, there is a high chance they would be able to understand it on their own with their own research. Don’t doubt a student’s ability, even a little pat on the back can go a long way. More on this later. 

ASPECT NUMBER THREE

A very popular opinion is that schools kill creativity. They don’t out right kill it, they just suppress it until it never come backs. In other words, it’s there but not quite. (confusing, just like the world’s education system). If the student says a wrong answer, don’t outright say no or prompt the class to laugh at them. Question their understanding in a polite way.  Promote creative thinking and finding different ways of solving problems. Creativity can be found in all subjects, you just need to find a will. Don’t suppress interests such as liking of a particular aesthetic, genre of music or style. 

ASPECT NUMBER FOUR

There is no space for individuality. Uniforms are okay because you don’t have to go through the hassle of picking out clothes but limiting other choices such as style of hair, use of accessories and nail polish and colour of hair should not dictate what kind of a student they are. Teachers and Administration should not care about these things because every student needs their own way of showing creativity. These things do not dictate what kind of student they are. There is a common misconception that students who do the above mentioned things will distract students and disrupt the class. The students usually compliment or comment on it and move on with their day. The teachers, however will call them out, fine them, give them detention or some other kind of punishment. The only people that are getting distracted here is the staff who takes the time out of their day to call a student out on their mode of expression. All those teachers who support their students’ choices are pure gems and deserve all the love in the world. 

ASPECT NUMBER FIVE

The ungodly amount of homework. This is an extension of ‘aspect number two.’ I along with many other teenagers believe that the homework should be limited to two hours a day. No, I don’t mean two hours per subject. I mean two hours total. It can be extended to 3.5 hours but not more than that. Take the example of a GCSE student. A normal student takes about 9-12 subjects. Depending on the intensity of the subjects,the student should spend about 15-20 minutes per subject. During tests and exam weeks, this can be bumped up to 5 hours but still, testing a student’s skills of memorization does not prepare them for the real world. After spending six hours in school, this time should be taken to go over material and identify weak points in their understanding, not increasing stress.  

ASPECT NUMBER SIX

The unhealthy expectations which really effect a teenager’s mind, and not in a good way. Many people are out here judging a student who excels in art on it’s ability to do STEM subjects, and vice versa. That’s like judging a fish's ability to climb a tree. Let the student pursue what they like without a thought in their head, “what will everyone think of me.” As a human being, they’d support and not belittle your choices. Let them pursue what they like. If they get bad grades, ask them about it. Don’t start shouting. Teachers, do not announce grades in class, you are literally creating students who build up low self-esteem. How hard is it to understand that teenagers are human beings. They’ll learn. If a previously-gifted student gets a bad grade, don’t make them feel bad about it.

ASPECT NUMBER SEVEN

Actually take a stand on matters that make sense. Stop bullies, racists, homophobes and sexists. Don’t go around nit-picking students who have long nails and unkempt hair or uniform if you have these problems roaming around. That just says that you are only caring about your outer appearance at the expense that most of your students will grow up to be ignorant citizens. A teenager mirrors their surroundings and if you can create a positive surrounding, it’s your part towards a more understanding society.

ASPECT NUMBER EIGHT

WHO thought that giving extra homework on weekends would be a good idea. Like, WHY? Weekends should be for relaxation and for revising topics. Wouldn’t it make sense if students took time to, I don’t know, go over the work from the week. That way, the information can be retained for a longer time. I also present to you the idea of making open book tests the norm. What many schools don’t understand that not everyone can memorize entire books. A student who does well on assignments but not on exams clearly shows that they understand but can’t remember it. The real world clearly shows that you don’t need to remember things because resources will always be at your disposal. A student should know how to apply concepts because 85% of the stuff they learn in school is utterly useless in real life. The remaining 15% are basics of subjects which should be learned. 

ASPECT NUMBER NINE

The schools either need counselors that actually do their job or teachers that are willing to go the extra mile. Counselors need to understand the students’ situation and help them. Don’t blame everything on the phone. (Phones are least of our problems). Normalize opposite-gender friendships. Lastly, with classes algebra and all that, wouldn’t also having classes like etiquette's, how to file taxes and other worldly classes actually help.  

REVISED TIMETABLE

As per the guidelines above. 

Biological sleep patterns shift toward later times for both sleeping and waking during adolescence -- meaning it is natural to not be able to fall asleep before 11:00 pm.

Sleep between 11:00-11.30 pm. Wake up at 7:45 am (Assuming you slept at 23.15 which is the halfway point, you got a sleep of 8.5 hours, which is healthy)Getting ready and having breakfast at a peaceful pace takes an average of 15 minutes. You will be done by 8:15 am. An average school commute takes about 30 minutes so you should have 15 minutes to spare before 8:30 am strikes and you leave for school.School starts at 9.00 am and ends at 3.00 pm. (Schools here last for 6 hours).Go for extra-curricular activities. On average, extra-curricular activities last for 1.5 hours so you should be free by 4.30-5.00 pm. That leaves you with 6 hours. Even if you take an hour long nap and take exactly 2 hours,no more or less for your homework, you will still be left with 3 hours of leisure. These 6 hours can be scheduled how ever you like. 

Now compare it to my timetable that was in place before the lock down. I woke up 6.00 am (Usually woke up early to complete homework which was impossible to complete yesterday) Left home for school at 7.15 am, usually made up for sleep in the  car. 

Reached school by 7.45. School started at 7.50 am and went on till 2.00 pm. All extra curricular activities were suspended due to tests and exam prep. Reached home at 2.40 pm. (Was picked up from school at 2.10 pm because group assignments roles cannot be assigned in class for some stupid reason so a lot of work has to be done outside class). 

Refresh and have lunch, start homework at 3.00 pm. Went on till 5.00 pm, took a 15-minute break and again continued till 9.00 pm (This is just homework). Picked up the assigned reading and assignments, that went on till 10.00 pm. Time with family till 10.45 pm. 

These were the good days. The days I was assigned art homework were torture. I have gone to school with only 3 hours of sleep many weeks. 

For a system that is suppose to help the students, the education system sure does hate students.

[undertalethingies]

Self Indulgent Self Insert Fanfic, Part One

I am sitting in my room, not doing much of anything, (as per usual) when I look up and notice that my mirror has apparently transformed into a solid wall of inky darkness as I’ve been spacing out.

And well- it’s not like I can not poke it, right? There’s a high chance I’ll seriously regret it, if my life has become the isekai it appears to be, but there’s a 100% chance I’ll regret it forever if I don’t touch it, you know?

Everyone always assumes I’m risk averse, that I like to play it safe, but the truth of the matter is I’ve just never found something I really want to take a risk with.

So, I push myself out of bed with a hand and go grab my shoes, because there’s no way in hell I’m touching something that might be a portal with no shoes on. Thankfully, I’m actually dressed for once, rather than being in my bathrobe like usual. 

Once I’ve got my shoes on, I grab my coat from where it hangs by my dresser and walk straight into what used to be my mirror. I hope my parents aren’t too worried by my disappearance. Maybe I’ll be lucky and this will be the kind of isekai that retroactively erases me from existence? That would be kind of nice, to exist without tethers.

The portal (because that’s what it is, I’m pretty sure) feels cool, but not unpleasantly so. Like when you first put on a fleece sweater and it takes a moment to warm up.

If this were a stereotypical isekai story, things would quickly become very unpleasant in this dark void, and some godlike being would reach out to grant me power beyond my wildest imaginings.

I’ve never been one to cave to expectations, though. Not even my own.

The darkness remains cool and comforting, and I continue walking forward because there’s no chance I’m going to turn back now, with so much possibility awaiting me if I only continue long enough.

Eventually, I feel as if I’ve passed some threshold, and something definably changes within me. Can’t say what, though. I’ve always kinda sucked at interpreting what my body is trying to tell me, so I’ll probably have to figure it out on my own.

At some point the darkness and walking grows boring, and so I do what I often do when bored, and curl up to go to sleep. This place isn’t cold enough for me to need a blanket, and I’ve got my coat with me anyway, so I’m fine. Sleeping on hard surfaces isn’t unpleasant, in my opinion, merely a bit annoying, since if you pick the wrong position you’ll inevitably wake up sore.

As always, consciousness takes a while to fade, so I occupy myself with grand imaginings about all the wonderful (and terrible, I’ve got anxiety okay, I can’t help it) things that might await me.

==

When I wake, it’s immediately obvious that something is different. There’s light now, for one, and for two I can feel something soft and organic beneath me. Judging by smell alone… Flowers? Waking up on a bed of flowers in a lit room… Well, I’ve always wished I could live in Undertale, if only so I could chew out the characters for bottling up their feelings so damn much. Hey, maybe if I’m lucky, that one headcanon I have about Sans secretly being a teenager will be right and I’ll be able to flirt with him without it being creepy.

Oh come on, like everyone attracted to dudes and not overly hung up about species concerns doesn’t want to kiss that guy, are you kidding me? Plus, I love puns and I’m depressed, surely we’ll get along.

Oh boy, I’m definitely going to die, huh? Thank fuck for my high pain tolerance and ridiculous resistance to trauma, am I right?

Finally, I open my eyes, because I like to wake up slow and I see no reason to alter my existing routine simply because I’ve apparently been yeeted into my favorite video game. Hey, speaking of favorite video games, will I get to visit Hollow Knight next? No, wait, that would probably suck, wouldn’t it. Ah, well.

The cave is just as beautiful as I always imagined it would be. Though it looked lovely in the game art, there’s truly nothing that can compare to seeing the sight in person, those marble pillars in a half circle around me, that single spot of sunlight in the ceiling far (far, far) above. Not to mention the lovely flowers I’m laying on at this very moment and- there’s a dead body under me, isn’t there. Is Chara going to show up, or am I left to be alone in my head?

Though their narration doesn’t actually start until you meet Flowey, in the game, so I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

Which human soul am I taking the place of right now? Because I read a fic once where the protagonist wasn’t the seventh, even if it was a fakeout, and I very much do not want to be saddled with the fate of those poor bastards.

Though, maybe I’d be able to talk my way out? There’s no one who’d call me diplomatic, for sure, but I’m pretty great at knowing exactly where to aim an insult to utterly break someone’s spirit. (Unusual skill, I’m aware, but in my defense I was bullied growing up)(I say “growing up” like I’m not still doing it, like I’m not fourteen and trapped in a world where it’s an accepted fact that the protagonist will die, and several times over, too)

My first order of business is Flowey, before I can take the time to freak out, to hold myself tight and weather the sheer panic that Toto, I am not in Kansas anymore.

I get up. I give a last fond look to the beautiful cave I’ve “fallen” into, and I walk to the next room, hoping all the while that I’m not signing my own death sentence.

Once I’m a few feet in, there he is, in all his fucking glory.

Flowey the flower, the soulless remnant of prince Asriel Dreemurr, former hope of the underground, possibly still holder of the ability to control time itself.

Yeah, I’m definitely going to mess with him. Self preservation is for losers.

“You’re a flower with a face,” I say before he can start with his usual greeting. I have it memorized anyway, so it’s not like I’m missing out on anything.

He makes his T-T face, so I know this isn’t how he thought this would go. 

“Wow, human! What gave you that impression?” Ooh, sassy. Literally his only positive trait.

“Well I have eyes, see,” I was planning  to ask him probing questions, but honestly this is just as good. His expression doesn’t change as he says his next sentence, nor does his ever cheery tone, (and holy fuck his voice is just as vaguely creepy as I’d imagined, all that childlike innocence paired with the fact that he’s a mass murderer)

“Well howdy, human with eyes! I’m Flowey, flowey the flower!” He says. I don’t interject.

“You’re clearly new to the underground, and it looks like I’m the only one around to show you how things work around here! Are you ready?” 

…

“I’m really not, to be honest. I’ve got no idea what’s going on,” So my plan here, basically, is to stall until Toriel gets here. Mostly because I’m hoping that if he doesn’t get the chance to do his betrayal, he’ll keep pretending to be nice, which will be hilarious since I’ll know he’s faking the whole time.

Admittedly, this significantly increases the likelihood that Toriel won’t come to save me when he inevitably finds a secluded place to murder me, but if I think too hard about the long term right now I’m going to scream, so.

“Well you see, human, you’ve fallen into the underground, a land inhabited by monsters! Don’t worry though, we’re quite nice,” Oh right, conversation. I wonder how much info I can get out of him…

“What’s a monster? Like, I know what it means on the surface, but that definition is pretty vague, and I don’t want to be accidentally racist,” 

His face pops back to the usual smile. (Side note: his face looks like it was drawn on with sharpie and it’s totally messing me up)

“A monster is a being made of magic!” Ok, that’s… a bit vague, but not really inaccurate. I guess he doesn’t want to get into the science, which is a damn shame, since he probably knows it backwards and forwards due to all his reset shenanigans.

“Woah, cool. Magic is real? How does it work without breaking thermodynamics?” Finally, the question I’ve always wanted to ask. If energy can’t be created, how the fuck does Toriel shoot fireballs from her hands? What is she drawing on, what is the fire burning, how hot is it, how does it keep being on fire, etc. etc. repeat for every magical display in the game.

“Well, a lot of it isn’t super understood. Scientists have mostly been pinning it on ‘dark energy’ like they do with every other phenomenon they don’t totally understand,” I wonder why he’s so willingly entertaining my time wasting antics. I know, in game, he didn’t realize he’d lost control over the timeline until after his first talk with Frisk, so maybe he’s just waiting it out to see where it goes? And then of course he must be planning other things to do with me before he takes my soul and goes to the surface…

“God, I hate dark energy in science. I know they just call it that because not much is known about it, but I’m thirsty for knowledge, you know?” Actually ‘thirsty for knowledge’ describes my mood like 90% of the time. Huh, actually, I have that in common with Flowey, right? Even if his knowledge thirst is just due to boredom.

“Hey, human, me too! Learning new things is great!” There’s a loaded sentence if i’ve ever heard one. When was the last time he learned something new? He’s supposedly read every book in the underground, but how much information from that did he actually retain?

“Isn’t it? It’s why I love Youtube so much. Free information for anyone who cares to make a few clicks!” Wait, he probably doesn’t know what Youtube is, actually.

“What’s Youtube?” He asks, cocking his head.

“It’s a service where you can upload videos or watch videos other people have uploaded,” Not the most nuanced explanation, but it’ll do for now. Before Flowey has a chance to respond, a fireball manifests next to him. 

I don’t smile because I’m pretending to be shocked, but I’m laughing my ass off on the inside. The face he makes is even more ridiculous in person.

Enter Toriel, queen of the monsters, mother of no living children.

[beevean]

In order to learn more Japanese this year, I decided to play Ace Attorney... for GBA.

Last year I tested my Spanish skills with a book - this year I’m upping up the game! I finally felt confident enough to try this challenge, and so far I think it was a good idea! On my own I understand a good chunk of what I’m reading (but it depends on the character speaking - so far everyone has spoken in ordinary Japanese and in short sentences, but I’m afraid to meet Edgeworth and von Karma lol), but since I memorized the English translation I feel like I can understand pretty much everything.

Here are the words I looked up in the first case alone:

感心する　（かんしん）　to congratulate, to be impressed

逮捕する　（たいほ）　to arrest

一体　（いったい）　“who/what/why in the world”

殺害する　（さつがい）　to kill, to murder

至って　（いたって）　very, extremely

巻き込む　（まちこむ） 　to involve, to drag in 

中断する　（ちゅうだん）　to interrupt

章　（しょう）　chapter

確か　（たしか）　“if I’m not mistaken”

確かめる　（たしかめる）　to make sure

真っ白　（まっしろ）　pure white/blank (as in, “blank sheet”/”my mind is a blank”)

被害者　（ひがいしゃ）　victim

調書 　（ちょうしょ）　 protocol, written evidence, record

事件　（じけん）　event, affair

記録　（きろん）　record, document

訴訟記録　（そしょうきろく）　court record

死因　（しいん）　cause of death

毒　（どく）　poison

鈍器　（どんき）　blunt weapon

殴る　（なぐる）　to strike, to hit

大分　（だいぶ）　considerably

具体的　（ぐたいてき）　concrete

証拠品　（しょうこひん）　piece of evidence

受理する　（じゅり）　to accept

象る　（かたどる）　to model on

提出する　（ていしゅつ）　to present (documents)

武器　（ぶき）　weapon

依頼人　（いらいにん）　client

情報　（じょうほう）　information

聞き逃す　（ききのがす）　to fail to hear something

反撃　（はんげき）　counterattack

余計　（よけい）　too much, unnecessary

振られる　（ふられる）　to be rejected, to be dumped

世紀　（せいき）　century

世間　（せけん）　society, people

状況　（じょうきょう）　situation

実際　（じっさい）　practically

日付　（ひづけ）　date

収入　（しゅうにゅう）　income

小遣い　（こづかい）　pocket money

援助する　（えんじょ）　to assist

口走る　（くちばしる）　to blurt out

関係する　（かんけい）　to be related

動機　（どうき）　motive

移る　（うつる）　 to change the target of interest or concern

合図　（あいず）　signal

決定的 （けっていてき）　decisive, conclusive

発見する　（はっけん）　to discover

証言　（しょうげん）　testimony

殺人現場　（さつじんげんば）　murder scene

覗く　（のぞく）　to peek

腰が抜ける　（こしがぬける）　to be unable to stand, to be paralyzed with fear

はっきり　 clearly, plainly

機種　（きしゅ）　type of equipment, model

尋問　（じんもん）　cross-examination

いよいよ　more and more, at last

本番　（ほんばん）　performance

暴く　（あばく）　 to disclose, to divulge, to expose

カギに握る　（かぎににぎる）　to hold the key (idiom. expression)

食い違い　（くいちがい）　discrepancy

すなわち　that is,

矛盾　（むじゅん）　contradiction

部分　（ぶぶん）　portion, section

突き付ける　（つきつける）　to thrust at

揺さぶる　（ゆさぶる）　to shake, to jolt

解剖記録（かいぼうきろく）　autopsy report

明らか　（あきらか）　clear, obvious

些細　（ささい）　trivial

単なる　（たんなる）　mere, simple, just

見事　（みごと）　splendid, excellent

指摘する　（してき）　to point out

生み出す　（うみだす）　to create, to produce

追い詰める　（おいつめる）　to corner, to back into a corner

時報　（じほう）　announcement of time

ずれる　to be out of sync

思い込む　（おもいこむ）　to be convinced that

バッチリ　perfectly, enough

にしろ　though, even if, whether... or...

訳がない　（わけがない）　there’s no way that

妙に　（みょうに）　strangely

クネクネ　 wriggling, swaying

置き時計　（おきどけい）　 clock to be placed on tables

おそらく　perhaps, I dare say

置物　（おきもの）　ornament

瞬間　（しゅんかん）　moment

強烈　（きょうれつ）　strong, intense

細かい　（こまかい）　small, trivial

ぐちぐち　muttering, complaining

主張　（しゅちょう）　claim, assertion

欠片　（かけら）　fragment, shred, ounce

言い逃れる　（いいのがれる）　to talk one's way out of

見逃す　（みのがす）　to miss, to overlook

わざわざ　to go all the way to do something

連中　（れんちゅう）　company, bunch

今更　（いまさら）　now (after such a long time)

発想　（はっそう）　idea, way of thinking

理由　（りゆう）　reason, motive

示す　（しめす）　to show, to demostrate, to point out

時差　（じさ）　time difference

一変する　（いっぺん）　to change completely

先ほど　（さきほど）　a moment ago

救い出す　（すくいだす）　to rescue, to free

探し出す　（さがしだす）　 to track down, to locate, to find out

形式　（けいしき）　formality

判決　（はんけつ）　judgement

言い渡す　（いいわたす）　to announce, to sentence

閉廷する　（へいてい）　to adjourn a court

空き巣　（あきす）　empty house

常習犯　（じょうしゅうはん）　habitual criminal

留守　（るす）　absence, being away from home

狙う　（ねらう）　to aim at, to be after something

立ち去る　（たちさる）　to leave

侵入　（しんにゅう）　invasion, intrusion, trespass

物色する　（ぶっしょく）　rummaging, scouring

逆上する　（ぎゃくじょう）　to go into a frenzy

無事に　（ぶじに）　safely, without problems

スカッとする　to feel relieved

ニコニコする　smiling in a friendly way

記念　（きねん）　commemoration, celebration

慰める　（なぐさめる）　to comfort, to amuse

分からず屋　（わからずや）　blockhead

手製　（てせい）　handmade

次第　（しだい）　depending on

角度　（かくど）　angle

パーッと　 with energy, enthusiastically

ある意味　（あるいみ）　in a sense

幕を閉じる　（まくをとじる）　to come to an end, to close the curtain

連呼する　（れんこ）　to call repeatedly

依頼料　（いらいりょう）　retaining fee

再び　（ふたたび）　once again

引き起こす　（ひきおこす）　to cause

永久に　（えいきゅう）　eternally

Some other general notes:

1) the equivalent of the press button is 揺さぶる - apparently in Japanese you don’t “press” the witness, you “shake” them, which I find hilarious: it gives me the image of Phoenix shaking by the shoulders an uncooperative witness to knock some sense into them

2) the equivalent of “when something smells, it’s usually the Butz” is “事件の陰に、やっぱり矢張”, roughly “behind an accident, of course there’s Yahari”, the joke being that both 矢張り and やっぱり mean “I knew it”/”of course”. Mia also mistakenly calls Larry やっぱり, which I have to say is far more flattering than being called “Harry Butz” :p

(funnily enough, this explains a very weird translation of the name of Larry’s theme in T&T that has been bothering me for years: sometimes it’s called “In the Shadows of the Incident”, which makes no sense and is even a little ominous, but now I realize it’s just a direct translation of “事件の陰に”)

3) Larry doesn’t compare himself and Cindy to Romeo and Juliet and Cleopatra and Mark Anthony (prompting Phoenix to think they’re all dead lovers), he just says they are (not even “were”, lol) the best couple of the century. Good for the English translation for adding a funnier joke

4) Similarly, once Sahwit is finally caught, there’s no equivalent of the awful “Mr. Did-It” pun, for better or for worse

5) When Sahwit gets his wig snatched [cit.], he says “Shut up! You’re complaining about trivial things!”, which sounds maybe even sillier than simply “I hate you” - dude i lost the count of how many times you shot yourself in the foot, what’s trivial is your ability to lie :P

6) Sahwit also switches from 私 and a keigo language full of ございます to オレ and your typical “rude anime guy” accent, something that I think the English version couldn’t convey quite as well

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thing with feathers, ch. 8

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Fēngmián & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Yànlí & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Fēngmián & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Qǐrén & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Yú Zǐyuān, Yínzhū, Jīnzhū, Lán Jǐngyí, Jiāng Fēngmián, Jiāng Yànlí, Lán Qǐrén, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags: Transmigration, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, sharing a bed

Summary: A routine is established as Wei Ying recovers.

Notes: See end.

AO3 link

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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

Wei Ying was as flabbergasted as WangJi upon learning his sword was named Suibian, but then he laughed.

“I guess I couldn’t come up with a name,” he said with a shrug. 

This was later confirmed by Jiang FengMian, who told them Wei Ying had agonized over a name, creating lists for weeks, and when it came time he was so frustrated he had said, ‘Just name it whatever.’

“And so, I did. You laughed and laughed when you saw that, a-Ying.”

Apparently, Sect Leader Jiang had an odd sense of humor, one Wei Ying seemed to share.

“Just think,” Wei Ying said to WangJi later. “Cultivators will ask my sword’s name and when I say Suibian it’ll be fun to see their faces.”

WangJi thought it disrespectful toward a spiritual weapon to name it thus, but Wei Ying treated his sword with courtesy, taking care to tend and polish it regularly, even though he couldn’t train with it until he recovered further. 

He showed Wei Ying Bichen, and was pleased when his sword was complimented as being beautiful.

“Your sheath has silver patterns, like mine,” Wei Ying pointed out, seemingly tickled by the similarity. “Maybe we can spar when I’m better.”

The suggestion pleased WangJi, who had found as the Second Jade of Lan few people wished to partner with him to spar at Cloud Recesses.

The days settled into a sort of routine. In the mornings, shufu gave WangJi and XiChen lessons while healing music was played for Wei Ying. Often, he was asleep for much of it, still healing from his ordeal. The Jiang sect seemed to rise later than mao shi anyway. The healers always brought all of them a meal of congee when Wei Ying woke.

Wei Ying’s clothing had been brought from his room, and he was encouraged to dress after he’d eaten. Rather than wearing the blues and purples of the Jiang sect, many of his outfits had red and black as the primary hues.

“They were the colors your mother favored, and your father wore them when they became rogue cultivators together,” Jiang FengMian said when Wei Ying asked. “Your mother liked to wear a red ribbon in her hair. I thought you might prefer to dress in their colors.”

WangJi wondered if Wei Ying had retained any memories of his parents, but he didn’t ask. His face had gone thoughtful and sad at the sect leader’s words, his fingers touching the red ribbon that tied off his braid.

Once Wei Ying was awake and alert, he listened to the lessons enough to ask questions. At times, it seemed he had lost the memories associated with the information shufu was covering, assuming he had learned it to begin with, and asked the sorts of questions a complete novice might ask. At other times, his questions were pertinent, revealing a sharp mind and someone who had begun to learn the six arts and was excelling. 

WangJi was relieved when shufu patiently answered Wei Ying’s questions; during the argument with Sect Leader Jiang, it had seemed like he might decide to judge the boy harshly. He was glad that wasn’t happening. Shufu even treated him like a student, insisting Wei Ying take notes, which he did with a shaky hand that grew stronger, his calligraphy less messy as the days passed. An altered writing desk was brought for him to use without the need to get out of bed while he recovered. Eventually, he was able to start joining them at the table for lessons, his stamina recovering enough to allow him to sit without support for longer periods of time.

During the time between lessons and lunch, WangJi often practiced sword forms empty-handed in the empty space between their beds. The space was sparse, but that merely added obstacles for him to work with. Wei Ying watched or painted. He once tried to write a list of what he had remembered since waking, but became frustrated early in.

“It’s hard to remember what I already remembered and what I remembered later,” he said with a dramatic sigh, flopping back on his pillow.

“What matters is that you are starting to remember, Wei Ying,” WangJi told him, and was rewarded with a smile and a sunnier mood.

After lunch, which WangJi usually enjoyed in the infirmary with Wei Ying and sometimes Jiang YanLi, Jiang Cheng, and xiongzhang, the healers had a routine for Wei Ying to regain his strength. Much of it involved swimming, which the Jiang Sect healer insisted would help him rebuild his muscles more quickly. 

WangJi had listened with interest as the healer explained this to Jiang YanLi, discussing the added resistance of the water, as well as the ambient pressure compared to air. He learned from this that one should not swim too soon after eating. 

Sect Leader Jiang petitioned shufu, arguing the importance of proficiency in swimming for night hunts, and so WangJi and XiChen often joined Wei Ying in a pond devoid of lotus for the purpose of improving their skills. 

He was not particularly fond of the requirement that they strip to trousers, but they were told their heavy robes would only hinder their ability to improve, so he endured it.

Wei Ying seemed to have more energy in water, not requiring the help he sometimes needed on land. He was graceful and swift in the water, having remembered the skill very quickly. And although he tired quickly, he was adept at floating with minimal energy output, something WangJi had difficulty picking up. 

“Jiang Cheng says it’s because I’m full of hot air,” he chirped when WangJi mentioned it, then cheered at having remembered something new.

When Jiang Cheng occasionally joined them—a rare occurrence as he was often practicing sword forms or archery—he and Wei Ying occasionally devolved into splash fights. WangJi didn’t see the appeal, but they made Wei Ying smile and laugh.

By the time swim lessons and Wei Ying’s water therapy were over, the boy was often so exhausted he required a nap.

WangJi played the guqin for him as he fell asleep, and then practiced various pieces until Wei Ying woke, usually half a shichen to a full shichen later. 

Wei Ying often woke hungry, and WangJi found he usually was as well, likely from the exercise of swimming. They quickly worked through what remained of the gifts from the townspeople, but Jiang YanLi anticipated their need for a small afternoon repast, and brought various treats each day for them to enjoy. Some she modified for WangJi’s Gusu palate, as they discovered he could only handle a fraction of the spice used in Yunmeng, and far less than Wei Ying enjoyed. 

Jiang YanLi also brought music books from the Lotus Cove library at their request, ones for both the guqin and the dizi. WangJi discovered then that Wei Ying couldn’t read music—whether he had forgotten how as a result of the attack and his illness or had learned by hearing and experimentation, he didn’t know. 

So WangJi took it upon himself to teach him. Shufu walked in on his lessons once, and simply nodded approvingly, watching them work together for a while before leaving them to it. At the start, these lessons occurred on Wei Ying’s bed, but they were eventually able to shift to the table.

Wei Ying was a quick learner, and before long they discovered music they could play together. WangJi found that he enjoyed playing with Wei Ying as much as he did XiChen. A few times XiChen joined them, adding the more sedate tones of the xiao to the mix, but more often he left them to play together. Sometimes they played at the table. Other times, if he was particularly tired, Wei Ying was propped against pillows on his bed, and WangJi sat on the foot of the bed with his guqin. There was ample room, as the bed was meant for an adult.

XiChen, he learned, was helping shufu teach Jiang YanLi how to read music for the konghou so she could learn musical cultivation. Sect Leader Jiang had commissioned an instrument from a renowned local luthier, one that would befit young maiden Jiang’s station, and had in the meantime procured one more suited for a beginner for her to start learning. Once she had the commissioned instrument, she would name it and begin imbuing it with spiritual energy as he did WangJi and xiongzhang did LieBing.

WangJi wondered if perhaps he should ask Sect Leader Jiang or shufu if Wei Ying should also get a dizi that could become a spiritual instrument, as opposed to the child’s dizi he played now. Wei Ying played well, and musical cultivation would also suit him.

But WangJi hesitated to ask; while Madam Yu was clearly making an effort to be kind to Wei Ying, she had a tendency to compare him and Jiang Cheng, even with Wei Ying in the infirmary. 

They were little comments, but he could see the way they made Wei Ying cringe, how Jiang Cheng was surly afterward.

One day, she entered while Jiang Cheng was listening to them play during a break in training, and chided him for not learning to play an instrument.

Wei Ying took it upon himself to comfort the younger boy—he insisted on calling him Cheng-ge, claiming he was now younger because he’d lost his memories, a logic WangJi didn’t understand. 

“I bet you’d be great at the paixiao or the hulusi. Or if you want to try a stringed instrument, the ehru might be fun? Just not the sheng. Those sound weird.”

Jiang Cheng sighed. “Is it so bad if I don’t want to learn an instrument? I like listening, but I’m not interested in playing. A-Niang eventually plans to give me zidian, so I’ll need to learn to use a whip, anyway. Why an instrument, too? I’ve only got two hands!”

His disinterest in learning an instrument was a bit shocking to WangJi, for whom it had never been a choice, but Wei Ying took it in stride.

“You don’t have to learn just because shijie and I are, Cheng-ge. Just tell shenshen you’d rather start training with whips, then. I bet she’ll be happy about that and forget about the music. You’ll just have to train with her instead of listening to us or shijie play.”

The idea immediately cheered Jiang Cheng, and Madam Yu was pleased when he told her that night at dinner that instead of an instrument, he would like her to train him to wield a whip. She agreed readily, clearly happy he had taken an interest in her fighting style.

Every evening, one of the healers or assistant healers would help Wei Ying to the pavilion to eat with the Jiangs. As honored guests, shufu, WangJi, XiChen, and the other visiting Lans ate with them as well. 

Meals were different at Lotus Pier, with conversation taking place as they ate. Discussion of the events of the day: Jiang YanLi’s studies, Jiang Cheng’s training, Wei Ying’s recovery—often including recovered bits of memory. 

Dinner at Lotus Pier was a family time, and sometimes featured play arguments between Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying, mediated by Jiang YanLi as Jiang FengMian smiled indulgently and Madam Yu rolled her eyes and scoffed in mock-irritation. 

Shufu, WangJi knew, wanted them to adhere to the principles, and so the Lans never joined the conversation. 

In the beginning, Wei Ying was visibly wilting by the end of the meal, but as time went on his stamina improved, and he slowly was able to walk back to the infirmary with minimal assistance. 

Wei Ying was, by that point, able to bathe without aid from the healers, and WangJi usually took a bath at the same time behind a different privacy screen on the opposite side of the room.

Every night Jiang YanLi visited to comb and braid Wei Ying’s hair. Often, he played with the rattle drum and chattered while she did, and they made an effort to include WangJi in their conversations, something that left him feeling a blossoming warmth in his chest.

WangJi liked this routine; in the beginning he had expected being at Lotus Pier would be something of a hardship. But while he missed his home, he was comfortable here, something he hadn’t anticipated.

Always, by hai shi, Wei Ying was already tucked in bed and falling asleep, his day so full he was exhausted. Often Jiang Cheng or Jiang FengMian, or sometimes even Madam Yu checked in to wish him a goodnight with varying degrees of affection.

“Let us know if anything you remember upsets you, a-Xian,” Madam Yu said one night, a week and a half after Wei Ying first woke.

For a moment, WangJi wondered what upsetting things he might remember, but then remembered Wei Ying had lost his parents and had lived on the streets for several years. It was oddly easy to forget what he had suffered with Wei Ying’s good cheer.

“I will, shenshen,” Wei Ying promised. “I know you said bad things happened after my parents died.”

Madam Yu nodded, and for a moment hesitated as though she wanted to say more, but instead she patted his arm, wished him a good night, and left.

That night, WangJi woke suddenly around chou shi, confused at the interruption to his sleep. Then he heard soft sobs from across the room.

“Wei Ying?”

The room went silent. WangJi sat up and lit the candle beside his bed, rising to check on Wei Ying. He could see the tears on his face reflecting the light of the flame before he saw him. The boy stared at him, his breathing erratic.

“Wei Ying?”

“Lan Zhan,” was almost a relieved breath.

WangJi had little time to brace himself before Wei Ying launched himself from the bed and hugged him tightly. He was lucky not to drop the candle, and he almost chided the boy for the dangerous act before he realized Wei Ying was shaking.

“I’m sorry I woke you, I’m sorry,” the boy babbled.

He put the candle down on the bedside table next to the rattle drum and awkwardly patted Wei Ying’s back, trying to console him.

“It is no trouble,” WangJi assured him. “What happened?”

“Nightmare.”

From the way he was still trembling, it must have been a terrible one. WangJi occasionally had nightmares, but he’d never reacted this strongly to them. Wei Ying is clinging to him, his breathing ragged and terrified.

“I was falling,” Wei Ying croaked. “And I hit the ground and then there was darkness all around, but the darkness was alive, and it was swirling and there were voices calling my name. And then I woke up and it was all dark, and you called my name and I didn’t know if I was still dreaming.”

“You’re awake, Wei Ying,” WangJi told him.

“The darkness hurt. It felt real, Lan Zhan.”

WangJi remembered the conversations he’s overheard in the month, particularly the ones while Wei Ying was in a coma, about the dark resentful energy that had engulfed him while he was training and left him bleeding from the mouth and nose, convulsing and delirious with fever. He had never seen resentful energy personally; there wasn’t any in Cloud Recesses. But from the descriptions, this could be a nightmare that wasn’t a nightmare at all. 

Wei Ying could be remembering the attack, something the healers and Sect Leader Jiang and shufu will want to know.

But that was an issue to deal with later. Right now, Wei Ying was panicked and terrified, and that was WangJi’s main concern.

“It was a dream,” he told him anyway, not sure if he told a lie and not sure if he cared if it calmed Wei Ying. “You’re safe. We’ll keep the candle lit.”

When he tried to pull Wei Ying back to his bed, the boy resisted.

“I don’t want to go back,” he sobbed, clinging to him and burying his face against WangJi’s shoulder. “What if I have another nightmare?”

WangJi tried to remember how his brother would calm him after a nightmare. Sometimes it involved chamomile tea, but he didn’t know where to go for that, and he couldn’t remember ever being quite this distraught. But the other thing xiongzhang had done was stay with him, at least until he fell asleep, although sometimes he would wake at mao shi and he would still be there. He had always appreciated that.

“I will stay with you,” he finally said. “If you have a nightmare, I will be there.”

Wei Ying was quiet for a bit, as though considering whether WangJi’s presence would help. Finally, he nodded.

“I’m sorry for troubling you,” he murmured, sniffling.

“You are not troubling me,” WangJi told him, and realized it was true; he was more concerned for Wei Ying’s well-being than troubled by his behavior. “We will still leave the candle lit. That way if you have a nightmare, you won’t wake in the dark. You will see I am there.”

“Thank you.”

The way he said it was as though WangJi had saved his life, as though he was unworthy of his help, and it bothered him.

“There is no need to thank me,” he said, gently pulling him toward the bed again. “You are my friend.”

WangJi was relieved when Wei Ying let himself be tugged to the bed, when he smiled tremulously at being called a friend. The boy wouldn’t let go of him, even getting into bed, which made things difficult, but WangJi stayed patient.

Despite his clinginess, Wei Ying didn’t try to snuggle close as WangJi thought he might, but instead kept hold of his hand, curled on his side to keep him in eyesight. He realized it was not necessarily contact he needed, but the simple visual reassurance WangJi was there. He listened as his breathing calmed and was surprised when the boy fell asleep within minutes despite his earlier protestations—but the panic and fear had probably worn him out.

It took longer for him to fall asleep, but listening to Wei Ying’s soft, even breathing allowed him to slip toward it soon enough.

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

Yeah, the dream totally was not the attack. Guess what it was!

Sheng are like a really bad version of the bagpipes, at least in my opinion. I do love the way paixiao and hulusi sound—they have a deeper sort of sound that would suit Jiang Cheng, in my opinion.

I have a few free weeks, so it seems I might be writing more during this time. This was largely written in 2 hours between 3-5am, just flowing out.