#1. Ilya's honor

[antisocialxconstruct]

annnnd the conclusion (for now 👀), following off of Ilya's scene. A chunk of this was posted previously but it's been edited to flow better and now it has some context :)<

6.2k, Maksim has a busy day and an important appointment to keep. No serious warnings but he does get knocked on his ass at one point and it's really embarrassing.

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Abele’s clinic is not luxurious, and it is not especially peaceful. The actual treatment area is three beds squeezed into a gutted back room with blacked out windows, with tools and medical machinery filling all the empty spaces with no method or pattern that Maksim has been able to decipher. He’s been listening to muffled voices and multiple sets of footsteps passing back and forth overhead since he woke up, and he’s only awake because of the sirens that went screaming by outside nearly half an hour ago.

What Abele’s clinic is, importantly, is discreet and familiar, such that he was able to show up in the dead of night, starved and dehydrated, covered in blood, with two broken fingers and a black eye, months after he had moved away from Bayview and cut ties with everyone he knew here, and he was hurried in off the street without a single question. After that things are a little hazy. As soon as he was inside he began to lose the meager shred of clarity that had gotten him to the door, and the second his head hit a pillow he lost consciousness entirely. Given the state he was in at the time, he's willing to wager that he was out for a while.

When he finally has to admit that sleep won’t be returning for the moment, he makes a valiant effort to push himself into a sitting position. An exceedingly brief few seconds of effort later he gives up, discouraged both by the way his head immediately begins to spin and by the light pinch of the IV drip in his right arm that he had managed not to fully notice. He lets his head drop back onto the pillow but he does muster the energy to raise his right hand up to where he can see it, just to grimace at the bulky beige cast stretching from his pinky and ring fingers down to just below his wrist. His hand feels heavy and distant beneath the wraps, in a way that seems incongruous with the dulled sensation he’s accustomed to from the inhibitor. Pain killers? He glances at the IV bag with a frown, making a mental note to insist Abele taper them off the next time the doctor comes by.

What else?

His thoughts are achingly sluggish and disjointed but if he focuses on planning his next steps he doesn’t have to think about the way being unable to move freely invites other memories up to the surface of his mind. Should he see Chiba as well, on the off chance there was any lasting damage to his cyberware? At the very least he’s going to need his hand re-tuned once the cast is off but that won’t be for a while. Can he risk going back to his apartment, or will Callahan have cased it already? He’s lucky his manhunter was on him when he was caught, but the rest of his gear would sting to have to write off. He does have a deposit box in Excelsior under another fake name, if Callahan hasn’t managed to connect him to it, and if he can reach it safely, he’ll at least have money. And then… And then what? Does he keep running? Ilya should be long gone, at least, so-

It’s a testament to whatever drugs he’s on that the reaction to that thought comes a full couple seconds after it actually forms in his mind. His chest constricts and he winces, laboriously raising his left hand to rub his eyes as he fights to get a full breath into his lungs.

Ilya should be long gone. If he warned them in time.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted them safe, even if it meant urging them out of his life. It doesn’t make the reality hurt any less. It doesn't feel any less like he had to carve something out of himself.

This is pointless, he thinks. He's not going to make any progress lying here dwelling on what's done and feeling sorry for himself. With one more concerted effort he pushes himself up until he can rest his back against the wall behind him and coughs to clear his throat. His voice still sounds dry and ragged when he calls out, "Abele!"

A quiet beat, then the soft padding of approaching footsteps. The middle-aged dwarf who pokes her head in is not Abele, but he dimly remembers that she was there when he first arrived and might have been the one who actually guided him into a bed. When she catches his searching expression she smiles, picking her way around the clutter to his bedside as she explains, "they had to step out for the afternoon. I'm Harper, I can take care of anything you need in their absence."

"I need to leave," Maksim replies bluntly.

Harper tsks lightly. "What you need is some proper food and liquid in your system," she insists. "That drip's not enough to get you on your feet after you were out for a day and a half."

"A day and…" Maksim repeats incredulously, then grits his teeth in frustration. That's at least twenty-four hours more than he had hoped, Callahan could have gotten a lot done in that time even if he was still licking his own wounds. “Did you drug me?”

“We didn’t have to,” Harper admits. When Maksim casts another doubtful look at the IV she adds, “that’s just a saline solution, you were dangerously dehydrated.”

He doesn’t particularly like that answer although he can’t imagine why she would lie. But it means he’s got nothing to blame for the bleariness of his thoughts or the unsettling heaviness of his limbs. "Okay. Get it out," he scowls at the needle in his arm, "give me my things, tell me what I owe Abele for the help."

The doctor still regards him uneasily, beginning to say, "why don't you at least rest easy until they-"

"Harper," he interrupts, "it would be in everyone's best interest if I'm not here when my problems catch up with me."

After one more moment’s hesitation, a sort of grim understanding settles over her features and she nods. She doesn’t like it, but she knows when a runner shouldn’t be argued with. “Alright well… just let me get you the address.”

Maksim blinks, and just as Harper is turning to step away he stops her with a quick “what address?”

“That your friend left for you,” she clarifies with a light smile, as if he should know precisely what she’s talking about.

Naspok says come when you’re able

Abele’s round, looping script stares back at him from the scrap of paper, six simple words followed by an address he placed somewhere in Haight-Ashbury. When the crossing signal chirps to beckon him to the other side of the street he stuffs the note back in the pocket of his ill-fitted hoodie and keeps walking.

His head’s buzzing, a hit of jazz the quickest way he could think of to cancel out the fatigue, and easy trash to get ahold of in Bayview. And still no matter how furiously he turns the situation over and over in his mind, he can think of only two possibilities.

If someone other than him knows he told Ilya to go somewhere safe, it means he was right to suspect some kind of trace on his commlink (which means it was the right move to pawn it as soon as he left the clinic so he could buy some clothes that were inconspicuous and not crusted in blood). But that also means they should know he very explicitly instructed Ilya not to tell him where they were hiding. If it is a trap, it’s a particularly bold one, especially considering the last time Callahan tried to weaponize Ilya against him he nearly tore the man’s throat out. Even if he knew that’s what this was, he would have half a mind to go anyway just to show whoever’s waiting for him what he thinks of them using Ilya’s name like that.

The other possibility is that Ilya received his instructions, went to a safehouse, and then immediately contacted him to tell him where they were.

He comes to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk, massaging his temples as he curses under his breath.

That does sound like something Ilya would do.

And in spite of the frustration bubbling under the surface of his thoughts, he can’t deny the truth: he hopes that’s what Ilya did. Even if it means putting them both in greater danger, even if it means tempting Callahan to call NeoNET down on top of them… it also means their last conversation doesn’t have to be Maksim on death’s door urging them to disappear. It means they chose not to abandon him.

Whichever way he looks at it… he has to take the invitation. He has to know. But he doesn’t have to go unprepared.

Guardian Vault & Safe seems like the most reliable first stop. He bristles under the receptionist’s dubious once-over, keenly aware that he doesn’t have the advantage of his usual wardrobe to offset the unavoidable fact that a heavily modded troll is a bit of a novelty in a middle class district like Excelsior. The fidgety posture he can’t quite calm and the ugly purple bruise spread across the left side of his face probably aren’t doing his respectability any favors either. Still, a gentle telepathic nudge to humor him–and a mandatory thumbprint scan–gets him through the door under the name Grigoriy Kozlov (at least you were good for something in the end, Grisha, he thinks wryly), and a half hour later he’s back out with five thousand nuyen across four different credsticks, and a thin backpack with a spare magazine for the manhunter and another change of clothes in it. He had actually forgotten how much he’d stashed there; it had been one of the first things he did upon arriving in the city, for when he thought he would inevitably need to get out quick.

The apartment is a coin flip… if the safehouse is a trap, it seems likely Callahan won’t have split his resources between that and staking out a second location. If Ilya really is waiting for him, then he has no idea what to expect in Oceanview. Still… There's a customized Remington 990 sitting in a locker under his bed, and the thought of abandoning it–or worse yet, the thought of Callahan getting his hands on it–is enough to cement Maksim’s resolve. He has to go home.

It doesn’t feel right, creeping around his own apartment building like he’s there to rob it. But he’s not in any state to be confronting his neighbors right now, and he’d really rather as few people as possible have any sense of where he’s been and when. After a tense few seconds of finessing the lock (not much of a feat when it only has to be jostled in just such a way), the back door to the service corridor spares him having to pass by the front desk. No one else ever takes the stairs when the elevators are as cushy as they are, so it’s an easy enough task to dart up one flight at a time, stopping on each landing to listen for anyone else coming and going, until he’s finally on the fifth floor. He has the least cover here as he steps out into the main hallway, leaving him no choice but to simply stride to his own door as purposefully as he can and pray no one else is around.

He’s just beginning to marvel at his own luck when he gets close enough to realize the door is already just the slightest bit ajar. Like someone let it swing closed behind them and didn’t check to make sure it latched. He stops a few paces out, hand drifting to the pistol holstered at his back, and although he expects to regret it he takes a deep breath and stretches his senses outward, pawing blindly around the astral space for signs of other minds. There’s the familiar thread of one neighbor, the absence of another telling him the unit on the right is empty right now, and then… someone else, dead ahead. Someone bored.

The second he brushes against their mind his awareness snaps back into place and he flinches, pressing a palm to his forehead as his vision blurs. He’s not excited at the prospect of fighting someone in his current state, but he’s not excited at the prospect of turning around and retreating either. There is at least one other alternative… He drops his hand away from the gun and squares his shoulders, doing the best he can not to look like he’s operating on nothing but sleep deprivation and the tail end of a stimulant high, and pushes the door open.

The open floorplan affords him an immediate view of everything but the bedroom and bathroom, but he doesn’t need the luxury of a full sweep to isolate the only threat in the apartment. She’s rifling through the cabinets in his kitchen with her back to him, and judging by the clutter of nonperishables on his counter it looks like she’s been on a determined hunt for something.

Human, sturdy build, dressed for combat but not so heavily that it would obscure the elaborate wolf-centric sleeve tattoos. This isn’t another of Callahan’s goons imported from the east coast. In fact Maksim recognizes her, if only peripherally, as another runner moving in the same circles Ilya does. That might actually make this easier. He freezes to search his memory for a name, and then rolls his eyes when he remembers what it is.

“Lupe,” he says to announce his presence, at the same time pushing the door more firmly shut behind him. She straightens and wheels around, staring him down for a beat before he sees recognition spark in her eyes as well.

“Shit,” she sighs, “no one told me I was getting a babysitter, Mr. Johnson must really want this guy.” Something in Maksim’s expression must give him away before he can decide how to use that information, because a second later her eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline and she lets out a long, low whistle. “‘This guy’ is you?”

Maksim steels himself with another deep breath before responding. “Listen… I would really rather not kill you inside my own apartment.” Lupe’s mouth quirks into a dry smile, and he worries that he’s not managing to sound confident instead of exhausted. He makes a quick course-correction, shrugging the backpack off his shoulder and lowering it to the floor, then making a point of drawing his pistol, reversing his grip on it, and leaning over to lay it on the seat of a nearby chair. “What would it cost for you to let me get my things and then swear I was never here?”

She tilts her head, eyeing him down the bridge of her nose before she answers. “How much you got?”

That, at least, is a question he’s prepared to answer confidently. “Two thousand,” he says, pulling one of the cred sticks from the deposit box from his pocket and holding it out. “That’s all I have but you can take it all.”

She hovers in the kitchen a couple seconds longer, watching him as if he might spring into action at any moment, but he must look suitably beaten and desperate because she finally comes around the counter and approaches, stretching out a hand to accept the bribe.

When she grabs his wrist instead he tenses, but he registers the incoming fist a split second too late to react and then he’s on the floor, seeing stars. The fresh wave of pain crests against the inhibitor before it can really hinder him but he still feels thoroughly rattled as he rolls onto his side. He groans, bites out “чертова сука” only to taste a fresh trickle of blood down his lips.

That was embarrassing, and not the kind of cheap move that ever should have surprised him. He would have preferred a more controlled round of troubleshooting but at least now he can be reasonably certain. Something’s wrong with his mods.

“Sorry Avos,” Lupe sighs. “But work’s work, y’know?” She grabs his ankle and drags him further away from the door–away from his gun–continuing, “I don’t know what you did but someone’s got a lot of nuyen riding on settling the score.” Her weight comes down on his stomach as she straddles him, grabbing the wrist of his injured hand as she reaches for something on her belt.

That was a bad judgment call.

His left hand shoots out to the front of her tactical vest, claws digging in for purchase, and he hauls her down the same moment he lunges forward to slam his forehead into her face.

That was also a bad judgment call.

Lupe grunts and goes limp enough for Maksim to throw her off, only to drop back onto the floor as the room spins. It takes every ounce of his focus just to get some semblance of control over his limbs, enough to roll over and lurch-stumble-crawl back to the chair to grab the manhunter and fire off a shot near-blindly in Lupe’s direction. It misses her entirely and smacks into the laminated window behind her as she sits up. She follows the trajectory before turning back to him with a sneer, the expression rendered grisly by the mess of gashes Maksim’s horns delivered to her face.

She staggers to her feet as Maksim slouches back against the chair, but in a moment of inspiration he sets his jaw and fires two more shots past her into the window, until it finally shatters and he hears someone down on the street shriek in surprise. Lupe stops in her tracks and gives the window another look, and this time when she faces Maksim again she seems genuinely puzzled. “What was that for?”

“This is a nice neighborhood,” he says, slightly winded. “And people in the building are nosey. I’d give the SFPD… fifteen minutes? Maybe less if they’re bored.”

She gives him the same calculating stare she did when he first showed up, but she does look markedly less confident in her advantage now. “And which one of us do you think they’ll believe is supposed to be here?”

Maksim snorts. “Honestly? Neither of us. But I bet only one of us knows what name is on the lease.” He glances over his shoulder and then reaches back, hauls himself up off the floor and into the chair. He rests his elbows on his thighs and dares to take a second to screw his eyes shut, rub his forehead, try to blink everything back into sharper focus. When he looks up again Lupe hasn’t moved. He waves the gun listlessly toward the door with a frown. “I’ve already had to pay off a street doc, I don’t want to have to call in a cleaner too. You can keep the cred stick.”

Lupe takes a step toward him. “I don’t think you understand what kind of price tag is on you right now.”

“If you don’t leave I’ll shoot out your knees and then you can talk to the cops yourself when they get here.” It takes a concerted effort to keep his hand steady but he levels the manhunter with her legs just to make sure she understands he’s not being hyperbolic. “Get out of my house.”

This time she doesn’t argue. Maksim sinks back into the chair as the door swings shut behind her and he listens to her heavy footsteps recede down the hall until he can’t hear them anymore. Then he lays the pistol in his lap and rubs his hand vigorously over his face, letting out a long groan of wordless frustration.

But he’s on a tight deadline now, thanks to his own flawless strategizing.

He drags himself back to his feet, holsters the pistol, retrieves the backpack from by the door, and heads for the bedroom, cursing under his breath when his balance wavers and his shoulder catches on the doorframe. Then out of the closet comes a black duffel bag, and out from under the bed comes a sturdy locker. He flips up the latches and throws it open to retrieve the prize he came all this way for, the 990 settled peacefully in its tactical holster. Maksim pauses as he wraps his hand around it, allowing himself a moment to imagine firing a slug through Callahan’s skull just to make the trip worth it, then stuffs it into the duffel along with his remaining ammo for both guns, the manhunter’s drop holster, the reinforced field jacket he normally wears on runs, and all the contents of the backpack. He zips the duffel shut and stands, then after a brief consideration pulls off the hoodie and tosses it on the bed, ducks into the bathroom to hastily wash the blood off his face, and then shrugs into his leather coat. It’s not any less conspicuous, in fact it might be moreso, but it’s familiar. It’s his. Even that tiny bit of normalcy does something to settle his nerves.

He slings the duffel over his head onto his shoulder and leaves the apartment, making a beeline for the exit. A door opens behind him and someone calls his name, but he just picks up his pace and doesn’t so much as glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the stairwell. By the time he's stepping back out into the alley from the service corridor, he can hear sirens around the front of the building.

Only one destination left now.

Haight-Ashbury isn't the kind of place where people pry, but after the chaos of his apartment the hike to the safehouse still feels disconcertingly simple. Traffic rumbles by overhead as he exits an underpass onto a quiet street, counting down building numbers until he arrives at the address he was provided. The structure is entirely unremarkable, easy to dismiss as an old shuttered storefront or a dingy unlisted residential building. He knocks twice on the front door, steps back, waits for a beat. A rusty intercom set into the wall crackles to life, only for a slightly distorted voice to tell him, “deliveries to the side door.”

Maksim hesitates, giving the facade a quick examination to see if he can spot a camera. Does he look like he’s here to make a delivery? Then he reaches over and holds down the one little silver button on the intercom. “I’m… looking for Naspok,” he says experimentally.

There’s no immediate answer, and Maksim is just beginning to wonder if he needs to try another approach when he hears the door unlock from inside before it creaks open. The orc that greets him at the threshold is a head shorter and looks to be at least a few decades older than he is, features well weathered but eyes sharp as he takes in Maksim’s appearance with pursed lips. He’s leaning lightly on a cane, but he takes up the doorframe confidently enough that Maksim doesn’t even entertain the idea of trying to force his way inside.

At last the orc simply grunts, “name?”

“Avos.”

The orc nods, then shifts his weight to rest one hand on the door. “You wait here,” he says. “No weapons on your person inside the building.”

Maksim blinks. “I’m not-”

“Not even well hidden ones,” the orc interrupts, raising the tip of his cane to flip Maksim’s coat aside and point directly to the concealed holster’s belt.

Maksim scowls down at him, but he still takes a step back to unclasp the belt and disarm, lowering the duffel onto the ground to store the manhunter away alongside the 990. Then he straightens, holding up his good hand to flex his claws illustratively.

The orc sniffs. “Well… Just keep that to yourself. Now wait.” He turns away, shutting the door behind him.

If this is a trap, Maksim is making it unbelievably easy for them. But that theory is rapidly beginning to crumble under the weight of evidence. Or hope, at least.

He’s left waiting on the doorstep long enough to start fearing again that he may have mishandled the situation. He turns to look up and down the sidewalk, a perfunctory effort to spot an ambush if it’s coming his way, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. He stoops to retrieve his bag from the ground, and doesn’t immediately process the next sound he hears coming from inside the building, only registering it as a rush of footsteps an instant before the door flies open.

When he turns back around Ilya is staring at him, wide eyed and slightly out of breath. For a long moment all he can think to do is stare back. He lets the duffel slide off his shoulder back onto the ground again. Every other thought in his head terminates at once, every frustration and paranoid fear and survival plan blotted out by the all-encompassing relief that overtakes him. This. This is what it was all for. For this moment, for the chance to look them in the eye one more time and… and tell them…

“Are you okay?” he asks numbly, just for something to say. Some way to fill the silence. He only registers the irony of him asking them that when Ilya’s expression contorts into something caught inexplicably between humor and pity.

“Am I okay?” they echo, “Maksim…”

“I just didn’t know if I contacted you fast enough, Callahan was going to… and I haven’t been able to think straight… I-” he rubs his eyes, shakes his head. Then he manages to catch hold of a single thought long enough to say with a little more exasperation than intended, “I told you to hide.”

“I did!” Ilya insists, holding their hands out to indicate the building around them.

“And I told you not to contact me.”

“Ah.” Ilya smiles weakly, then chews their lip for a second. “Technically I contacted a clinic in Bayview… if you happened to be there… coincidentally…”

Their excuse peters out as Maksim takes a step forward, spurred on by some impulse that barely even surfaces in his conscious mind, and takes hold of their shoulders. Or at least, he takes hold of one shoulder and rests his injured hand on the other. “You had time to run. You could have disappeared, you could be halfway to Seattle by now.”

The half-hearted attempt at humor falls away and Ilya’s eyes dart over his features, searching his expression with an unusual intensity. “The thought never crossed my mind,” they say softly. He believes them. He doesn’t know why that scares him, why it makes him feel dizzy and tightens his chest until he feels like he can’t take a full breath, but he believes they never considered leaving him behind. Not for a second. The question he wants to ask is why, the same question he asked before. Why didn't you sell me out. Why won't you leave. But he’s still grasping for the words when he feels their hand on his arm, and they’re saying, “but hey, we don’t have to do this right here, I think you’re clear to come inside. Do I need to get your bag?”

“No…” he mumbles, and then comes back to himself enough to actually process the question. “No,” he says more firmly, inhaling sharply and letting go of them to pick up the duffel again. Ilya moves away from the door and Maksim tails them inside, pausing when they poke their head through another door nearby and mutter something to someone in the next room. Then they close it and move on, beckoning him to follow them.

“I don’t think anyone else is here right now,” they say idly while they’re climbing the stairs, just as Maksim was also noting how quiet the building was despite its size. Without a full examination he’d still estimate it could house a couple dozen people.

In the second floor hallway Maksim’s muddled thoughts alight on another piece of information that feels important, and without warning he blurts out, “Alabast.” Ilya stops to face him. “The reliquary… the artifact we were supposed to steal from the warehouse. They think I have it, they’ve had someone following me since I left New York thinking they could get it back.”

Ilya doesn’t respond immediately, but Maksim imagines he can see a question surface in their expression only to fade just as quickly as they give him another quick once-over and do the math themself. The cast, the bruises, the length of his disappearance. They don’t need to ask what happened. What they do ask is, “how did you get out?”

“I…” Maksim grimaces. He hasn’t really spared any time to reflect on that… It wasn’t like he had a lot of options, but he’s been determinedly averting his eyes from the reality of what he was driven to. Full telepathic possession… it’s not something he’s ever done before. Not something he was ever taught to do. Not something he ever wanted to do. But he’s not about to start reflecting on it now. “It’s not important.”

The progression of Ilya’s expression is harder to read this time. They look like they want to press, but they catch Maksim’s eye and they see something there that keeps them quiet. “I’m glad you did,” they say, softly enough that Maksim might have thought it was just to themself if they weren’t standing so close. Just as their attention drifts back down the hall and they turn away, something hitches in Maksim’s chest, a quiet little cry of wait! He shrugs the bag off his shoulder again and reaches out, hand trailing down their forearm to linger around their wrist, and when they turn back to face him he throws his other arm around their shoulders and draws them in close. He can feel the ripple of tension that passes through them, for no more than the length of a heartbeat, before their body settles into the embrace.

“You didn’t have to do any of this,” he says, breathing the words into the warmth of their throat as he rests his head against their shoulder.

“You keep saying that,” they point out, lacing their fingers together at the small of his back. “Like it wasn’t the only choice that made any sense.”

None of this makes any sense, Maksim thinks, but he doesn’t argue as the moment stretches quietly into another second. Another. When he lifts his head away he can still feel the air stretched tight between them. A tether–or something more active. A magnetic pull as Ilya’s eyes lock with his, two opposing forces drawn back together into something natural and inevitable.

Then that moment bursts like a soap bubble as Ilya lets out the unmistakable snort of a poorly stifled laugh.

Maksim doesn’t lean any further back but he does narrow his eyes. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, sorry,” Ilya replies quickly. “I just remembered the last time I asked if you were about to kiss me and you nearly decked me for it.”

Maksim holds their gaze for another beat. They’re teasing. It’s normal, it’s so perfectly, comfortably normal, but it still lights up something inescapable in Maksim’s head. If you were about to kiss me… He leans in, places a light peck along their jaw. When they don’t pull away, another against the soft skin just below their ear, and in his gentlest, most confidential tone, just to settle the score, he tells them, “I still might if you’re going to make this weird.”

Ilya’s hands unclasp just to slip under his coat and wander up the curve of his back to rest against his shoulders. Their grip is light but he can’t ignore the way they’re holding him in place, the fact that if he tried to step away it would be easy for them to stop him. He can’t ignore the fact that he would never let anyone touch him like that. Even without seeing it he can hear the grin plainly in their voice as they respond, “if you think threats are going to make me behave better then there’s been a serious miscommunication between us.” Maksim pulls back again, just enough to properly take in the pleased little smirk that they flash him to punctuate the comment as they splay their fingers out over his shoulder blades.

There’s a shift then, something in the stream of his thoughts abruptly changing direction, catching on a hook in the midst of the natural current. It registers as an invitation- no. A challenge, like Ilya is daring him to…

Even with two fingers out of commission he’s got the collar of their jacket in both hands before he can think about it and he shoves, just hard enough for them to hit the wall with a startled huff that turns into a muffled exclamation against his lips as he kisses them–deep, insistent bordering on aggressive. But there’s an underlying note of desperation to it that Maksim can feel in his own gut, a need for something he can’t name but is suddenly convinced, on some fundamental level, that he could finally have. Something Ilya could give him, that he could find in them–in the way they relax into the kiss just as quickly as they relaxed into the hug, the way they invited this and then surrendered to it so easily. He can feel their hands balled up in the fabric of his shirt and now they are holding him fast, telling him stay here, stay. There’s a stability, a realness to being held that he had allowed himself to forget. A feeling of certainty in being this close to another person, feeling the rise and fall of their breath and the warmth of their skin. Of course he would stay, he would dissolve into this moment, fall into Ilya’s orbit like a captured moon, let himself be pinned through the chest and held in place forever-

Then the rational part of his brain finally catches up only to bring the rest of it to a stuttering halt as it cries out you can’t, you can’t have this, you can’t want this. He breaks away with a gasp, a breathless silence hanging between them as he leans back into Ilya’s arms still wrapped around him. They let their head tip back to thump softly against the wall, seemingly unaware of his sudden discomfort as they study him with an expression he doesn’t recognize. Eyes a little wide, skin darkened by a subtle flush across their cheeks and the wry twist of a smile just barely tugging at the corner of their lips again. A growing unease bubbles up in Maksim’s chest and he lets his gaze fall, grasping for something to settle on other than their eyes.

As they so often are, Ilya is the one to find the nerve to break that silence, though they still sound a little stunned. “Sure, that’s one way to shut me up I guess.”

“Sorry,” Maksim utters, and the contrition feels wrong on his tongue, feels like someone else speaking for him. He doesn’t want to apologize. There are so many things that he does want but he’s pushing them all back down below the surface where they’re quiet. Where it’s safe.

“I’m… not complaining.” There's a note of surprise in their tone… at hearing themself say it? Or just at the fact that Maksim needed to hear it? It doesn't matter, he doesn’t want to know what they’re thinking. He wills his hands to loosen, to let Ilya go, and is at once both relieved and disappointed when they take it as a signal to do the same and allow him to step away. It's for the best, he tells himself. He’ll disappoint them, he won’t give them enough–he never has, he’s never known how–and he can't bear the thought of facing that frustration and discontent again. Not from Ilya, not after all this.

But he can’t pretend that didn’t just happen either–not with the way Ilya’s looking at him now. Not expectant, and certainly not angry… they just seem a little bewildered, like they’re not sure what happens next either. Then they clear their throat, apparently arriving at a decision. “Come on,” they say, leaning around him to grab his duffel, laying a hand on his shoulder as they do so. It feels… right. It feels normal, and as they’re straightening he places his hand on top of theirs and they falter for just a second. There’s that mystified little ghost of a smile again as their gaze darts across his face, then they squeeze his shoulder and tilt their head toward a door a little further down the hall. “You look half dead, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sitting down.”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: MC makes M6 breakfast in bed

Part 2 is here:

Julian

So excited when he sees what you're bringing him that he nearly upsets the breakfast tray

"This is for me? Really?? I love you. I love you so much MC."

He's secretly checking to make sure you included some coffee because the excitement will only last him so long and he needs to be awake for this

Legit might start crying when you hand him the biggest mug of the strongest stuff on the market

Will pull you into bed to keep him company while he eats

Over the top compliments on every dish

"This toast is beautiful. Best toast I've ever had. It's a good thing you only made enough for me or people would fight wars for this toast. Look at the beautiful detailing along the edge! I should write a sonnet for this crust."

Squabbled with Malak over the crumbs

Will brag about it to anyone who will listen

Asra

You knew to put the tray down nearby before waking him up because it takes a while

Rumpled and drowsy and so charmed by your affection he keeps forgetting to eat at first

Only digs in once you're snuggled in next to them

They insist on feeding you every other bite

Faust has her own diet but she's intrigued with all the dishes in the bed

She curls up around the teapot because it's warm and now it's impossible to have more tea because she looks so happy neither of you wants to disturb her

After you wash up the breakfast dishes together he'll insist on taking on some of your daily duties in return

Nadia

At first she thinks you just requested breakfast be brought to her chambers and you felt like carrying the tray yourself

Until she notices that the fruit is unevenly sliced and there's a salad fork next to her eggs

Very deeply honored

Takes her time to savor each bite, putting on her best manners for you

Is it as good as the professional palace chef? No, but MC made it with their own two hands, therefore it could not be better

Lots of thoughtful compliments

She's especially pleased with the small silver bowl of Chandra-safe food you included so she could join you two from the windowsill

You'll be receiving an invitation to her gazebo later for the finest afternoon tea she could plan

Muriel

We know he got through a lot of his early childhood by trying to sleep off the hunger, so you can imagine how special it is for him to wake up to your smiling face and a heaping plate of food in the comfort of his own bed

Good luck being awake before him though, he wakes up at dawn to feed the chickens

Doesn't have many words that early in the morning, so he'll very carefully accept your gift with a small, sleepy smile

He won't start eating until he knows you've been properly fed

Not everything on the tray is breakfast food, because you're on a mission to feed him all the dishes he never tried growing up

You spent all of the previous afternoon in the marketplace visiting each food vendor for their best menu item

You gave Innana so many treats to guard it outside the hut overnight and not tell Muriel about it

He insists on doing the breakfast dishes so you can go back to sleep, you were up before the sun was after all

Portia

Squeals

Not gonna lie, you were kind of worried about the food you had to offer since Portia is one of Vesuvia's best bakers

Which is why you enlisted Mazelinka's help to make something she wouldn't find in the palace

It's close enough to the real thing that she recognizes it almost immediately and gets a little teary eyed

Talking with her mouth full about how you two are going to take classes from Mazelinka together

"I didn't realize how much I missed this until I smelled it MC, thank you so much! I need to learn how to make this now."

There is also a small bowl of cold chicken and catnip tea for Pepi

You and Portia watch her drink it and dissolve into giggles when she gets high off of it

Rubs it in Ilya's face next time she sees him that she has a super awesome MC who makes her breakfast in bed

Lucio

He didn't want to wake up at first, but the breakfast is a good bargain

Doesn't realize that you're the one who made it until you tell him

"Why didn't you say so? Of course you would though, I'm - we're - the best!"

Invites Mercedes and Melchior onto the bed to partake in the feast

"You'd better be grateful, MC made this with their own two hands."

There are crumbs everywhere, you'll have to change the sheets later

He really is grateful though, every now and then he'll look over at you and blush amidst all the chaos

By lunchtime he's forgotten about it

[morgana-ren]

Which of your bastards is capable of playing the part the longest? Like who is Mr charming and sweet, luring miss innocent into his Web until there is no escape before the facade cracks and who is Miley Cyrus?

Let's do a countdown in order from best award-winning actor to 'Hey, are you even trying?'

1: Nighty-Night Nightmare.

This man doesn't just play a role, he becomes the role. Like... with an impressive level of dedication. He can have you on his radar and play a role for a long fucking time. Weeks, months, it doesn't matter. He is incredible with his art of deception. He is a master of it. It doesn't even matter what the role is. He becomes the role.

We're talking it's so intense that, say, if you're (he) is having sex, and he wants to roleplay, it gets a bit.. much. Let's say he's a stern professor and you're a naive schoolgirl. You will be taking an actual test. Like, an actual test that he has written out and copied beforehand. You will actually have to do a fucking college essay for this man. When he plays a priest, he goes hard in the paint. He does the research, the work, he steals an actual priest's attire, he reads the fucking bible, I mean he goes hard.

Nightmare is an impressive specimen when it comes to acting. He should consider a career change to an actor. What a prick.

2: Ilya Solodnikov-Boldbaatar.

Ilya can play a role. He's very good. He can adapt to almost any situation and quickly. He can read what a person needs most and just become it. He won't research like Nighty does; he will simply adjust as needed. Think of Dennis in 'It's Always Sunny.' He's talented, but not dedicated. His needs and want takes precedence.

He relies heavily on the weakness of others. Discerning what they want to see the most. He's going to keep up the act until he gets you where he needs you. He doesn't take pleasure in pretending to be someone else. It's simply a means to an end with him.

His main goal is get you vulnerable. To get you ready and primed to trust him. Acting is just a tool in his arsenal.

3: Astarion.

Astarion is just... Astarion. He can be who you want him to be... within reason. He is going to charm and manipulate you, but he is always himself. He's going to do his damndest to accomodate your desires even at a detriment to himself (probably not after his ascension, to be honest.)

He can work and decieve, but mostly, he's just himself! He's grown very sound and confident in himself in recent years. He knows he's beautiful, and that's usually enough to get him what he wants. However, he isn't usually after anything more than shallow. He's quite content in his life, and isn't seeking much else. If it happens, it happens by complete accident.

4: Reaver.

Christ, are you even trying?

Reaver doesn't. He won't. He doesn't care. Why would he? He's rich and handsome and perfect and you should be honored if he takes an interest in you. He's perfection incarnate as he is. He doesn't need to act.

He will roleplay, but you'll note he always just.. roleplays himself. A rich benefactor, a brilliant entrepreneur, a magnanimous philanthropist, a handsome rich man who is so utterly benevolent as to take an interest in 'the poors.' He is literally Hannah Montana. Without the wig or the effort. Or anything.

He's bad at it. He loves himself, and therefore he doesn't want to be anyone else. Right? He loves himself. That's what he will tell you.

[hibewriter]

je te vuex

Masterlist   Read it on AO3 Chapters: 1 2 3 Discontinued

This fic was discontinued because it was meant to be a gift for a friend who is no longer a friend because they are a zionist.

Shadow &. Bone | Darklina | 12.9K (total) | M 

Tags: Underage | Underage Drinking | Masturbation | BF's Brother Trope

Chapter 3

(When Alina started at Saint Ilya's School for Gifted Children, Malyen Oretsev was the first person to approach her with any semblance of kindness. It had all begun in their shared Honors English class. Professor Kuya, unlike Aleksander, was the second eldest member of staff and decided the illusion of choice was useless in her class. So they entered her class at seven fifteen in the morning, blurry-eyed and exhausted from the summer activities that had only ended the night before, all the freshmen were expected to find their names carefully printed on a white label at the edge of their desks.

It was Mal, then scraggly and lean, who'd approached her. At the time, she'd thought it was a prank. She'd known him at their private middle school – he was a legacy admission as a favor from his father's fraternity brother. When they walked the halls, it was as if she were invisible. But that day he saw her. )

Each sip of her cocktail was another numbing agent as he kept glancing her way. Somehow this was better than the past nine months of avoiding his gaze at the cafeteria. Pretending she didn't see him and turning away from the taunts from his friends. "Sticks" had turned further contentious. Each time it was flung at her was with vitriol and a peppering of antagonism.

______

(There was something about their huddled whispers that Freshman year. Something that ignited butterflies in her belly with the way he'd wrap his arm around her shoulder, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He always pointed her out during his soccer games, rushing the pop-up bleachers on the pitch to kiss her just after they finished. Ignoring the chastisement of his coach and fellow teammates. She felt like a Ravkan princess. Thought they'd probably start discussing college and if she'd follow him to a specific place, or if he'd drive his Jeep down the coast to come see her.

But instead, Sophomore year came and brought with it change. )

_____

Zoya had pulled them into a circle at the center of the room, a soft weight on the small of her back pressing her toward the group. Everyone had their cups, though there was an empty bottle lying in the center of the floor, prepped just for the occasion.

"Alright, bitches," Zoya said with the authority of a commander, stepping to the center of the circle. "You're all welcome, I know it's not every day you get to be graced with my presence. For some of you, you'll learn so much. For instance, Mal will learn what it's like for a girl to kiss him and not throw up."

_____

(During the summer of sophomore year, he'd buzzed his hair when he went to his soccer camp. He'd met and started hanging out with Mikahel and Dubrov, who insisted on calling her "Sticks", just because she wanted to hang out with her boyfriend. As much as she hated them – they were loud, brutish, and cruel – whatever Mal had turned into was worse. Instead of his playful shoulder wrap and forehead kisses, he insisted on holding her where her body curved, stroking on any exposed skin every chance he got. His kisses drifted lower, inhaling her mouth and forcing his tongue between her lips, regardless of their setting. And then came the pressure. )

______

Alina stifled her giggle into her cup, smiling softly as Zoya sent her a wink before continuing. "For others...well. Welcome to the party. We're doing old-school games with Seven Minutes in Paradise, and no that does not mean what you do with your hand Dubrov. I start us off by spinning the bottle, the lucky bitch or bastard on the other end gets to go get locked in that closet," she pointed to a partially closed door on the other side of the room, "for seven minutes with me. Once those seven minutes are up, we come out, hopefully, clothed, and my lovely partner spins for a new one. Maybe we all get a technical fourteen minutes in Paradise."

She clasped her hands together, as she looked expectantly at the circle. After a beat of silence, she smiles, crouching with her knees closed, spinning the bottle on the hardwood. It lands with pinpoint precision, on Genya.

______

(Every time they were alone, his hands grew heavier with each touch as he attempted to get her to fool around with him. To expose herself to his gaze, more of his touch, and his —

And she couldn't do it.

There's something to realizing you're not ready for that leap. It's something so poisonous to realize you're not sure if your love for someone would survive what it took to reveal yourself to them and give them something that the Os Alta education system had decided was something "you should only share with someone you were in a monogamous relationship with".

And so resentment grew, like ivy on the tower that was their relationship. Even the things that weren't related to sex, felt poisoned by his touch until he mostly stopped altogether. Until they were together because they had been together for over a year and he kept saying she would get there and that they'd be together forever so what was a small snag of waiting? )

_______

There's a time when you go to a party and realize that you're alone once the only person in your corner is gone. The circle of people felt almost suffocating once the two girls disappeared into the closet. Alina goes back to her cup, sipping on it as she counts the seconds. A useless way of telling time, but it was either count to four hundred and twenty or risk speaking to a group of people who seemed friendly enough with her ex-boyfriend.

_______

(Junior year was the nail in the coffin. They slowly got accustomed to not being in the same classes; her straight Advanced Placement courses were always in conflict with his Honors courses. She thought maybe he'd break up with her. Or at least try to schedule more time to see her, outside of brief glimpses during his soccer practices and rides home in that stupid fucking Jeep that he insisted on keeping the doors off of.

Instead, it was the night that Alina had decided she may as well have ripped the bandaid off and got it over with. Let him crawl over her and put his cock in her and maybe let him lie and say he loved her when at this point their teen romance had already run its course. And she was going to tell him when she arrived at the homecoming game. Let him know once Genya ran off to speak to whoever was joining the party that evening and they had a moment's privacy. But he had been under the permanent stands – the football team always had more money.

The stands with shadowy places, plenty unable to be seen as passersby walked to their seats or concessions. Yet he chose the spot closest to the bright lights of the path, barely hidden behind the concrete pillar. Like he wanted to be caught with his hands down Rose Fitzgerald's pants and his lips pressed to her neck. Because he wanted her to see him, evident by the way his eyes made contact with her, a glint of mischief in his eyes as they dared her to say something.

Just like they did tonight.)

_____

It continues similarly once Genya comes out of the room. Alina sipped her cup silently next to her while the redhead made conversation. Each time a new person came along she would smile and nod as her friend would insist that they knew this person from some obscure class or another. The small talk at any party is often atrocious, the only saving grace being the natural buffer her friend gave her. Genya and whatever stranger of the moment would go in depth about a class or plans for the upcoming year, while Alina would pretend she cared about Gabby's eighteenth birthday party after the first week of school. Or Nikolai's planned rager next month – something Genya graciously backed them out of because they couldn't go to the boat and his birthday,

Then the bottle landed on her.

_____

"Pfft, make sure she doesn't crush you mate."

The boy on the other end of the bottle shook his head, extending his hand to Alina's. Walking her to the closet and not letting go until they were firmly inside. The door closed, encasing them into darkness amongst a crowd of giggles.

"I'm Matthais," he said, after a moment of silence. "Kind of awkward – not being able to see! Not the um... a stranger in the closet thing. Though you know maybe that is awkward I dunno. I think there's a hanger digging into my back maybe, and —"

"I'm Alina," she said, rushing to stop the rambling. "I'm sure there are other ways you envisioned meeting someone."

"Quite the contrary, I've always thought I'd meet my wife at a party."

The silence that followed could've been felt from space. It probably would've been better, living out in space with no worries about why someone would say they were looking for their wife at a party.

"Shit, I uh, just meant that like...I've thought about meeting people during parties," he rushed to say, trying to salvage his statement. She could feel his hand reach to her side, before retreating to his. "What I meant to say was like —"

"It's okay, I know what you meant," she said. She didn't, but she'd rather say she did if it meant smoothing out the next five minutes. She could practically see through the dark how he relaxed, the sigh of relief barely audible over the muted voices of the rest of the group on the other side of the door.

"Thank you," he said before they fell into silence again. This time it was more comfortable, with an edge of awkwardness. Until he broke it again.

"Wanna make out?"

_____

The opening of the door is sudden when it comes. Matthais, hunched over her small frame, barely registers the new audience. His lips are urgent against hers, large hands cupping her face to keep her close. Maybe it was how much tongue he was using, but the display garners low whistles from the crowd. In that moment she's glad she's been drinking so her blush could be explained away.

It's with a soft push that Matthais backs away, that same boyish smile on his lips as he gestures to let her leave first. She smiles back, slipping past his arm back into the room. Zoya's arm was like a vice, gripping Alina to draw her back into the circle, ready to spin for her fate. Not that Alina wasn't almost giddy as they approached the ring, kneeling to pick up the bottle. And it was fun, as the bottle spun and the circle joked amongst themselves, the soft laughter over Matthais and Alina's emergence enough to fuel the conversation. Until the bottle slowed, ticking slowly past faces she did and didn't recognize, until it landed on the one she wanted the least.

Malyen Oretsev smirked when the bottle landed dead center on him.

It was enough to make her bristle, shrugging off Genya's hand as it went to reassure her. The circle had grown quiet, the majority of the group no doubt aware of Mal's obvious disdain for his ex, even if the context was missing. Still, Alina shrugged, the smile gone from her face as she sharply turned on her heel and stalked back to the closet. She would wait patiently. If she was meant to play this stupid game, she was going to do it on her terms.

He joined her shortly after, closing the door behind him and engulfing her in the dark space again. She was silent, pressed firmly on the opposite wall from him. Counting seconds was easier and better than talking to Saint Ilya's biggest nightmare.

"You never answered my texts," he said, breaking her concentrated thoughts.

"I got a new number after I went to make sure my ex-boyfriend didn't give me herpes." She deadpanned, staring at where she assumed he stood on the other side of her.

"We would've had to have sex for that," he said.

"No, we wouldn't," she snarled. "Herpes can be spread orally, we learned it in Coach Botkin's health class. Or were you too busy thinking of ways to cheat on me to pay attention?"

"I wouldn't have had to cheat on you if you'd just put out," he hissed right back. "You'd think I was torturing you to just lay there and spread your legs. It's not like anyone else would've touched you."

"Oh, I didn't realize that I should be grateful to just be in the presence of someone who thought they were just doing a pity fuck."

"Better than being such a sad sack of shit." He hissed back, pausing only for a moment before delivering what he no doubt believed would hurt her the most. "Hell even Genya can barely stand your 'whole woe is me' act."

It wasn't true, she knew that. What she didn't know was if it was on instinct or just pure rage that her hand flew, surprising both of them with her ability to find his face in the dark and, even more, that she could hit so strongly. His hands flew to his face, cradling his cheek as she went to try the door.

Not locked.

She slipped out, past the confused group in the den, and into the crowded hall. Mal was right behind her, fury raging in his eyes.

"You fucking bitch!" He yelled after her. "Just cause no one wants to fuck you doesn't mean you make it everyone else's problem!"

"Malyen Oretsev" Zoya yelled back, stepping between him and his path to Alina. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, what?" His voice is louder than the music, carrying through the entire room. "She's allowed to whore herself out to —"

"That's enough," Zoya cuts him off, her voice eerily calm. "I've gone through too much therapy and shit to hear you be an absolute dick just because Lina would rather kiss someone else than fuck you. Get the hell out."

"And take your stupid pity fuck idea with you," Alina mumbled. She downed the rest of her drink, watching as Mal glowered at her friend. The other boys in the group hesitantly looked at each other, only moving when Zoya turned to them, eyebrows raised when Mal didn't move.

There's a sick satisfaction to watching your ex get ushered out of a party, and it grows even sweeter when you know he can't come back.

His leaving brings new life into the room. It was like a fist unclenching, the life of the party began to rush through her system. The mumbled insults and side eyes disappear and with them their vitriol. She didn't have to feel like an accidental tourist – her trepidation and fear were thrown into the void, replaced with a courage that manifested as an extroversion she'd never felt before. Names she wouldn't remember felt like sparkling wine on her tongue — the promise of new friendships that would be forgotten by morning.

The endless flow of drinks didn't hurt. Liquid courage flowed down her throat in quick succession as she found herself leaning against the kitchen counter with Genya close by as they drank together and laughed at the awkwardness of boys who tried to approach them. The crystalline kitchen was so clean and crisp, so against the teen revelry that she was sure it wasn't a place that intended for them to chug solo cup after solo cup of the burning liquid.

Zoya joined them shortly, hips shimmying to the bass that filled their ears. The world was little more than a blur of color and mass. Time seemed unreal, the conversation beginning and ending in seconds or was it hours? When did it become two in the morning? When did she find her head leaning on Zoya's shoulder, soft tears coming out because the girl had said she liked her hair? Where did the glitter on her cheek come from and was that couple having sex in the corner? The liminal zone of being present but not being real, the world tilted on its axis letting her know that she was real and an illusion at the same time.

Then Genya threw up in Zoya's mom's fifteen thousand dollar vase.

Sobering up is impossible. Teetering steps as she attempted to hold her friend (she took the right arm and Zoya the left, but both girls moved more like they were dragging a dead body through the woods, tripping on air to get to their destination) to the unfairly chic and modern bathroom. It seemed insulting, the quivering mess of a girl who was washing the remains of vodka and the small dinner from her mouth into a sink that cost more than Alina's house. But the taller girl looked at her, seemingly more sober than both of them as she demanded that Alina call someone.

It's easy enough to find the phone in Genya's back pocket, even with the numbers blurring as she uses her friend's limp hand to unlock the device. Then the decision of who to call becomes a mountain to climb. The names blurred — a list of people whose names were saved incorrectly. (Seriously, who names a contact Boring Lantsov? Was there an exciting one?) Until she found the correct one — or what she assumed the correct one was.

Calling Dickhead (For emergency)...

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was more comforting than she would've been willing to admit. The version of herself at the present was willing to bite her lip, leaning back on the wide marble countertop as she did. The stone should've helped ground her, but instead, she found herself more in tune with the pulsing in her ears. It felt like a thudding in her head that traveled down to her core, a molten pit just from a simple hello.

"Al–Aleks," she cooned, head knocking back onto the cool window. The comforting tilt of her world before was now too much, spinning too fast. "Oof. We might be...um...too fucked up. Wait, shit. Sorry. Um. We need help."

"Is that Aleksander?" Zoya whisper-yells as she begins to help wash their friend's mouth with a new toothbrush. Where she got it, Alina will never know. She nodded, reaching out to softly rub the redhead's shoulder, falling a little short and barely noticing.

"You, um," she mumbles into the phone, curling in on herself as if that would help him hear her. "Can you come? Help us? Please?"

For a moment she thinks he hung up, if not for the sound of his steady breathing on the other line. Each exhale is a dagger in her chest, and if she was of the right mind she might've explored why she felt that way.

"I'm on my way. Don't turn her phone off please."

She nods, trying not to focus on the way his voice sounds like the crunching of gravel or the edge of her sanity. How does he manage to sound that way without trying? Does he know what it does to people?

"Can you both get to the lobby? I'll be there in ten."

Again she nods, keeping her eyes closed. Moving sounded impossible, but for him, she could try.

"Alina."

"Hmm? Oh, yes. We'll be there."

It turns into a mission. A poorly executed one that was performed by drunken toddlers as the three girls attempted to cross the crowded room. They kept stopping to explain why they were half dragging, half carrying a girl slipping in and out of consciousness to the elevator, concerned drunken partygoers with their own opinions about what they should do with Genya and how they could take care of her here.

______

(His voice could be heard in the elevator down, yelling for the doorman to let him go collect his sister.)

______

(They all pretend not to notice)

______

Aleksander drives a truck. A shiny black RAM with raised tires and a penchant to make Alina feel small. She always thought it impractical, a mistake to use in the bustling city where you could barely see over the dashboard to the road below. But she's far too concerned about Genya to shove in his face her opinion on the matter. Not as she watches him haul his sister onto his shoulders just to toss her into the car. For a second she wondered if he would be able to do the same to her, picking her up as if she were nothing, and tossing her to the cab. But she knew better than that.

He turns to her, anger on every line of his face as he raises an expectant eyebrow.

"Passenger seat," he says. "Now."

She adds scrambling to new heights to something a drunk person shouldn't attempt to do. She's halfway in the seat before she feels his hand wrapped around her ankle, raising her leg for her instead of letting her dangle out of the seat. And she barely has a chance to tell him to wait before he hisses, taking a step back and releasing her as if he'd been burned by the accidental vision he'd seen.

______

(The first five minutes of the trip are held in silence, broken only by Genya's soft moans as she tosses and turns in the back seat. They were determined not to mention the fact that he saw her thong.

Or that they both knew it was wet.)

______

"Where are we going?" She breaks. He didn't wind the streets that lead toward the outskirts. He was heading away from the Morozov Estate, going further north, deeper into the city. He shrugs, turning with a singular hand as he fiddles with his gear shift.

"If I drop her off like that Baghra will kill me, and you."

She bit her lip, the flesh feeling sore from how often she'd done it this evening. He's right. In all fairness, the worst they'd gotten caught doing was rifling through Baghra's pantry. And even then, it was only because Genya had stolen Aleksander's gift of chocolate sweets without realizing it.

Maybe it was best to stay in silence.

______

She'd never seen his apartment before. He'd always arrived at the Estate for dinner or reluctantly had driven there from the school to drop the two girls off. And she'd only seen him leave the Estate the few times she'd spent the night. But then again, she supposed she tried not to think of him much on purpose, keeping all thoughts of him to the recesses of her mind until she was soundly alone without a soul to witness.

And she certainly hadn't thought of his apartment then.

______

It was industrial. The opposite of the elegant old-money luxury of the Estate, with its exposed brick and steel beams on high ceilings. She did her best not to marvel as he laid his sister on the exposed sofa, ignoring the black finishings that encased dark mahogany, or the slate-grey upholstery that somehow looked so inviting. No, she shuffled her feet, teetering at the edge of the entrance to the open-concept apartment. And she steadfastly refused to look at the double-frosted glass doors that led to the only private space in the apartment.

It takes him a while to get Genya settled. She crosses to the large windows, peering out to the city that has just begun to rise.

"So you gonna tell me what happened?"

"No."

She doesn't look at him, staring as cars begin to line the streets, so focused on appearing uninterested that his presence at her back startles her.

"I won't tell your parents," he says. "If that's what you're worried about."

She humphs, crossing her arms over her chest. " They won't care. Nothing happened. We drank too much, and she threw up so we called you."

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeats. " She had you listed for emergencies. It was a party, and we weren't gonna ask a room full of drunks to help."

He hums, sidestepping to lean against the window to look at her face. She looks to the other side. She wonders who fills the building next door and if they too got caught up in ridiculous conversations about why a teenager might drink at a party.

"Genya doesn't typically drink to excess," he starts, glancing back at his sister. "So she must've had a reason. Either you can tell me, or she will in the morning."

She huffs in reply, turning to walk back toward the kitchen. She hears him follow. There's a soft thud to his footsteps as he slinks behind her in, what she assumes, is his portrayal of mild curiosity. "Do you have any water?"

______

His counter is cold against the back of her thighs as she sits on top of it. He just stares at her as she recounts the events of the night. Her brain was just addled enough that she didn't bother omitting the details of her kiss. The way she thought Matthais used too much tongue but at least he seemed nice. And she just doesn't stop, not when he furrows his eyebrow or sways slightly closer.

"–And it's so stupid," she half sobs into her water. "I don't even like him anymore so it's not like his words have much meaning but it was just so...embarrassing. But it doesn't matter. I'm over it."

" Are you now?" He asks it like a taunt. She fixes him with the best glare she can muster, as watery and lackluster as it may be.

"Sorry," he says. "Why does it bother you so much? Not that I'm saying go after Helvar but –"

"Because," she whines, leaning against his shoulder. She tried to ignore his scent, but it was infectious. The cedar notes that laid over the soft cleanliness of a fresh shower filled her nostrils, and she couldn't help to inhale, momentarily forgetting herself.

"Because?"

"I'm never gonna get out of my head," she mumbles. "I'll die a virgin because no one else... can."

He sighs, and she smiles a little bit as he wraps an arm around her. "Mal isn't the only person in the world who–"

"No," she groans. " Not Mal. I don't – I never – wanted him."

"Alina–"

"You, dickhead," she mumbles. She turns her head to hide her shame from his gaze. "I want it to be you. But you... can't"

______

(He was going to respond. )

______

(She didn't give him a chance.)

______

"Alina —"

"Don't," she says, pulling away from him in an attempt to continue to hide from her shame. "Please don't try to let me down easy. I know. You're Genya's brother, not to mention —"

She's cut off by his hand around her arm, the tug that lands her back into his arms. His lips are on hers in an instant, the shock rendering her still as stone. How often had she thought of this exact moment? How many nights had she pushed her hands between her thighs to the thought of how his hands would feel against her skin? It didn't matter, because her fantasies paled in comparison. There was real heat on the other end of her lips, his hands provided real pressure, a weight she craved yet never admitted to. It was everything she thought it be and more.

Genya shifts in her sleep, releasing a low moan as she attempts to find comfort on the couch. It's enough to break Alina out of her stupor, enough to force her to think about who she was kissing. Her professor. Her best friend's brother. Her —

She pushes away from him. She stared at him with wide eyes while her thoughts raced a mile a minute in the darkness of his apartment. Her professor. Genya's brother. Her professor. Genya's brother. The reminders of who he is ring in her head like a tune that won't go away. Stuck in her head on repeat to remind her of how she almost ruined everything for a kiss.

It's enough to make her run.

[lisiya-gori]

an in-depth analysis of war and peace baby names

one thing we don’t talk about a lot in the war and peace fandom (such as it is): the main characters’ canonical children. this is probably because they have very little significance to the overall plot, and most of them appear only in the epilogue, which most people hate anyway. this is all fair enough, but for the purposes of scholarship and entertainment, I’d like to compile some information on what, exactly, the war and peace characters have chosen to name their children, and to make a few general comments on the significance thereof

the data

by the time of the second epilogue, set in december 1820, the five main characters of war and peace (andrei, pierre, natasha, marya, and nikolai) have a total of eight children. they are:

andrei and lise (1 son)

nikolai (nikolenka): only child, born 1805. at least ten years older than his next-oldest cousin

pierre and natasha (3 daughters, 1 son)

marya (masha): presumably the oldest daughter—natasha jokes to pierre that the only time she’ll be able to wear the ornate comb he bought her is “when she takes little masha into society.” maybe born c. 1814?

elizaveta (lise/lisa): mentioned once, birth order uncertain

unnamed second or third daughter

pyotr (pierre/petya): baby son, born c. 1820

nikolai and marya (3 mentioned children + at least 1 more)

andrei (andrusha): eldest son, maybe born c. 1814-15?

dmitri (mitya): mentioned once, presumably the second son

natalya (natasha): only daughter, three years old in 1820, so born c. 1817

one unborn child to be born sometime in 1821, name and gender unknown

some points of analysis

by the end of the book, the next generation already has an andrei, a pierre, a natasha, a marya, and a nikolai, which really says something about the way these people live

nikolai and marya name their oldest son andrei and their oldest daughter natasha, which I sort of love. it very much feels like something they would do

both marya and pyotr have double meanings as baby names for pierre and natasha: marya b/marya d for masha, and pierre/petya rostov for petya jr.

only one child (petya jr.) is named after a parent, and two (nikolenka and natasha iii) are named after grandparents. neither nikolai, natasha, nor pierre have chosen to name a son after their fathers

which is sort of fucked up when you think of it, right? nikolai bolkonsky, objectively the worst of the fathers, is the only one who gets a grandson named after him

on that note, nikolai’s marriage to marya means that the nikolai-andrei-nikolai-andrei pattern is seamlessly continued at bald hills, to the point that the post-wap generation has both a nikolai andreievich and an andrei nikolaievich

also, and I cannot believe it has taken me this long to get to this, pierre names his daughter LISE? how are we meant to take this? what even are the optics of marrying your dead best friend’s ex-fiancée and then naming your daughter after his first wife?

but it’s also kind of sweet, right, and there’s some level of karmic justice in seeing lise get honored with an epilogue namesake

dmitri/mitya feels completely random. the only notable dmitri in the book is mitenka, count rostov’s incompetent lackey/business manager, who is implied to bear some responsibility for the rostov financial disaster and who nikolai openly dislikes. surely nikolai would not name one of his sons after this guy?

but then where does mitya come from, especially since there are so many other more obvious choices (ilya, petya—although maybe natasha reserved it?—even vasya after denisov)?

actually vasya rostov would be so cute. I just feel like it’s notable that nikolai doesn’t have an ilya. nikolai’s relationship with his dad at the end of the book is such underexplored territory

i’ve seen katya floated as a name for natasha and pierre’s unnamed third daughter before. it depends on your interpretation of the characters, of course, but my personal headcanon has always been...................sonya

[zosiaaleksandrasecondyearblog]

Research of visual artist: Grayson Perry

My chosen visual artist for this project is the artist Grayson Perry. Grayson Perry was born in 1960 and is an artist, broadcaster and writer. His most characterisable art works are produced by the use of ceramics and tapestries using quite bold and bright colours to illustrate how he expresses himself. However, some of his work has also included fashion elements with embroidery and print. A well renowned website that presents the work of established and known artists Victoria Miro can back this claim up, stating that as an artist he tackles issues to do with "identity, gender, social status, sexuality as well as religion." Perry has also commented that an "emotional charge is what draws me to a subject". The ( Royal Academy of Arts, 2018, pg 71) says that Perry has also won several prizes such as the Turner Prize in 2003 as well as a CBE for the Queen's Birthday Honors List in 2013. He has also had a variety of exhibitions in the British Museum such as the "Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman" as well as exhibitions in the Andy Warhol museums. His works are displayed all around the world such as in Amsterdam and New York with his tapestries being featured in a channel 4 television series.

One of his most notable works would be his distinct and detailed pots such as The Rosetta Vase. Using (Figure 1), a large but tall vase structure is one of his famous works which is displayed in the British Museum. It is interesting to note that the vase consists of a yellow background with detailed blue figures dotted around the exterior of the vase painted with a "transparent craquele glaze". Grayson stated that this piece of work has a big connection to the notions of 'identity' because " it depicts the museum as a modern - day secular place of pilgrimage where cultures and ideas meet". A notable aspect of Perry's vase would be that there is male figure in a dominant blue colour as well as a number of different items that are meant to represent the British Museum. A source from (the British Museum) states that a variety of the images included in the vase come from a medieval Islamic treatise known as " The anatomy of the Human Body" by Mansur Ibn Ilyas. Perry definitely took some inspiration from Mansur because one of the main meanings in the treatise implies that "our body could be divided into different systems ( bones, veins, muscles, etc)". The vase itself is a 'symbol' of how Perry wanted to portray himself to viewers so therefore identity is prevalent here as we get a general idea of how he wants to 'perceive' himself as.

For further evidence, a book titled "Making Meaning- Grayson Perry( Royal Academy of Arts, 2018, pg 13) says that Perry "fuses visual and verbal, dramatising love and lust and violence, the human emotions and behaviours we all share". This has a big link towards 'identity' once again because identity is something that creates a formation between how we as individuals view ourselves and the outside world. Perhaps by having a look at the Rosetta Vase, viewers may be able to relate to some of images in the vase in relation to their own identity. For example, there are various word references scattered all over the vase such as 'beliefs', 'colonial' as well as 'post modernisms'. Not only does this link to 'identity' but has strong political and historical contexts. Using the book (Royal Academy of Arts, 2018: pg 34-35) ,another work that looks appealing to me would be the ' Comfort Blanket, 2014 which is produced in the form of a tapestry around the measurements of 290 by 800cm. In (Figure 2), the tapestry is a giant banknote of Britain which represents what we love and hate in our country. The colours consist of muted blues, greens, pinks, purples, reds with words added such as "a cuppa tea" or "rain", all identities that form our country Britain. Perry himself commented that he had a friend who left the country of Hungary and fled the soviets in 1956, with Britain being referred to as a "security blanket". This can be interpreted as something that has stability, safety with a sense of identity so the piece could even be beneficial to newcomers coming into Britain as they can familiarise themselves with Britain's identity by allowing foreigners to 'fit' in.

In terms of my own art-work, I've come to understand that Grayson's artwork is quite similar to my own styles implemented into my work. This is because he uses self- expressionism and vibrant colours and has an interesting way in drawing figures. Perry's work uses quite a bit of typography which I think communicates to us of his work as words can have a 'deeper meaning' and could reach out to people more rather than just imagery. In the future, I will definitely add this concept into my own work to make it more 'different' compared to my typical approaches such as : etching/ photoshop/ collage mediums.

Figure 1: Vase (British Museum)

Figure 2: Factum Arte :Comfort Blanket (2014)

Bibliography/ References:

British Museum( Date, unknown), Vase: The Rosetta Vase (https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_2012-8013-1)

Jenny Uglow, (2018), Grayson Perry: Making Meaning: Windsor Press and Royal Academy of Arts ( https://shop.royalacademy.org.uk/grayson-perry-making-meaning?srsltid=AfmBOopmW4Ez04SZaHgJ-phnh69L-u4hMoqT8WlmWAk5AGZvdFuzUcg5)

Tate ( Date, unknown), Sir Grayson Perry CBE RA ( https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/sir-grayson-perry-cbe-ra-4657 )

Victoria Miro ( Date, unknown), Grayson Perry ( https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/sir-grayson-perry-cbe-ra-4657 )

Image References:

Comfort Blanket Tapestry ( 2014), Factum Arte, ( Figure 2) ( https://www.factum-arte.com/pag/1714/comfort-blanket)

Vase ( Date, unspecified), The British Museum ( Figure 1 ) ( https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_2012-8013-1)

[fabioperes]

Turkmenistán: El misterio de la URSS | Conseguí entrar en el país más cerrado del mundo La búsqueda innovadora de vuelos no sólo te va a encontrar la mejor opción para tus fechas elegidas, sino te va a proponer otros plazos con un precio inferior: https://ift.tt/QzYX6Sy ¿Quieres alquilar un coche? La tarifa de GetTransfer es más barata que la de la mayoría de las empresas: https://ift.tt/MsozXEP Como miembro de Hilton Honors, vas a recibir beneficios exclusivos al alojarte en más de 6.700 hoteles por todo el globo: https://ift.tt/uTfdyeL Es casi imposible obtener el visado para viajar a Turkmenistán. Aquí no vienen turistas, y en el Internet no aparecen posts de los viajeros sobre su experiencia en este país. Jennifer Lopez tuvo que pedir disculpas por dar un concierto en Turkmenistán, porque no sabía la verdad. El país sigue viviendo como si la Unión Soviética existiera hoy en día. Conserva todo su legado soviético, desde la arquitectura hasta la opresión de la gente turcomana. Tuve suerte de viajar a Turkmenistán hace un tiempo, y en este vídeo comparto mis sensaciones. ¿Cómo está la vida donde casi todo está arreglado para acomodar a los deseos de una sola persona, el líder del país? Leyes de Turkmenistan: ¿Por qué el presidente prohíbe todo? | Política extravagante turcomana https://youtu.be/2_bY-1-dcfo Ni los rusos saben dónde está | Pobreza, pueblos nómadas y cocina extraordinaria de Kalmukia, Rusia https://youtu.be/3GG2ZDpV2eA La ciudad más sucia de Rusia | Chitá, región de Trans-Baikal https://youtu.be/QAjgn80llxQ Rusia, San Petersburgo: Edificios con 4.000 pisos | La peor ciudad "más cómoda" de Rusia ENG SUB https://youtu.be/J_UkYnOp9Z0 Bali, Indonesia: Aquí hasta la corrupción es suave | Naturaleza, playas y lugares para meditación https://youtu.be/ZfFcGx-AOQk Rusia e IT: Skolkovo, ¿innovaciones o corrupción? | Parque tecnológico en Moscú ESP SUB https://youtu.be/uyjfE4YrDaI #rusia #turkmenistan #jenniferlopez Guías de Varlámov: https://ift.tt/wbTyqfp Asesorías y tutoriales de mi equipo para bloggers de YouTube:: https://ift.tt/OjB7oVh Si te ha gustado este vídeo, ¡dale un like, déjale comentarios y compártelo en las redes sociales! ¡Hola! Me llamo Ilya Varlamov, soy periodista ruso y fundador de varios proyectos de mejoramiento urbano de Moscú y muchas ciudades en toda Rusia. Nada en este mundo me gusta tanto como viajar. En este canal hago todo lo posible para brindarte una visión objetiva de la vida en diferentes partes del mundo. ¡Suscríbete para no perderte mis nuevos videos! Apoyar el canal en Patreon: https://ift.tt/uCOg9KI Apoyar el canal con criptomonedas: https://ift.tt/Qv1VHBn Instagram: https://ift.tt/jmr0S6P Twitter: https://ift.tt/osBWtUl Facebook: https://ift.tt/vABzVPY TikTok: https://ift.tt/rYPoEG6 Reddit: https://ift.tt/bnRKA5c Capítulos 00:00 Introducción 01:09 La Unión Soviética en el siglo XXI 02:40 Dos caras de Turkmenistán 06:12 ¿La capital turcomana está vacía? 09:10 ¿Dónde está la gente? 11:00 Historia de Ashgabat, la capital del país 12:02 Casco antiguo y casco nuevo 14:35 El Ministerio de las Alfombras de Turkmenistán 19:40 Nuevas zonas residenciales 23:50 Ciudad de Awaza, el Dubai turcomano 27:20 Turkmenbashi: aquí todo lleva un nombre 31:52 Conclusión via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xn9ie6Tz3C4

[votestaynight2]

11th Day - Beautiful (II) (Scene 2) / 12th Day - overdose (Scene 1)

I'll go see how Tohsaka and Ilya are doing. I'm curious about what they're up to, and there might be something I can help with.

"Nope. You're just a bother, so get out of here." Then. One second after I knock, she kicks me out without time for a rebuttal.

"Hey, what's with that attitude? It could get scary later if you kick away someone's goodwill."

"What goodwill? We're going to be using the Tohsaka and Einzbern's secret magic, so there's no way we can show it to other people. I'm glad to know you want to help, but your behavior itself is harmful. I'm sure you don't want us finding out about your secrets, right?"

"――――――――" …I see. When she puts it that way, I see her point. There are things I can't tell her, even if we're cooperating. Anyway.

"Tohsaka. Why are you wearing glasses?" "…Why? …What, does it look funny?" "Well, it's not funny, but―――" Her honor student style has upgraded, and she looks like some president now.

"―――It really suits you." "…I-I see. I don't really know because I only wear glasses when I'm alone, but… it doesn't look funny?"

"No. I might be tricked into believing that you're an honor student even though I know your true nature. Are you trying to hide your character?" "――――" Hm? Did the room suddenly get cold?

"Tohsaka? Um, I'm suddenly getting chills running down my back." I ask her with my eyes if it's just my imagination. "Oh, what a coincidence. My shoulders are shaking too, Emiya-kun. I'm thinking I should settle my match with you. If you have enough free time to be walking around, how about I train you until you can't walk?"

"Uh――――um." …Scary. She's serious. It seems she really wants to punish me for walking around when she told me to rest and save up my energy.

"…Sorry, I was being careless. I'll go rest in my room like you told me to."

"…Hmph. It's fine, but don't you have something else to do if you can walk around like that? We aren't the only ones who might need your help." "…? Who else needs my help?"

"Right in the next room. For her, having you by her side is a big deal. You should know that. You're the source of Sakura's energy."

"――――" My face burns up. It's really embarrassing to have someone else say that.

"Oh, okay, I understand. If I can go see Sakura, I'm going to." I nod awkwardly like a robot.

"Of course you can go. …Geez, you're usually rough, but you're really careful in the stupidest things, idiot."

She shuts the door. Sakura's room is right next door, not even a meter away.

"Calm down, calm down―――I'm just going to see how she's doing." I take a deep breath and glare at the door of the next room. I-It's not like I have a guilty conscience. I'm just going to check if Sakura's really resting or not.

"You there, Sakura?" I knock quietly.

"Oh, Senpai…?" I hear a sluggish voice. "Oh, please hold on. I'll get changed right away…!" She must've been sleeping, and now she's scrambling to meet me. After two minutes…

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Please come in." "Oh… okay, excuse me."

I suddenly get nervous that I'm about to enter a girl's room. I've been here before, but the situation is different. Sakura wasn't conscious back then, but now she's opening the door and inviting me in.

"So, is anything wrong, Senpai? I was sleeping, so I don't know if anything went on." "Oh, it's nothing like that. I didn't come here because something happened. I just came because I was worried that you weren't resting properly… but――――" It seems I woke her up as a result.

"Aha, then I passed. I was resting like you told me to." "Yeah. I'm sorry for waking you up. You should know about your own body. You wouldn't push yourself and move around if you're sick. …It seems I was caring excessively." I contemplate my actions. But Sakura starts laughing.

"…Ugh. I'm worrying too much?" "No, that's not true. You're pretty sharp. To be honest, I wanted to continue cleaning. I was thinking about sneaking out if you didn't come." "Whoa… sneak out?"

"Yes. I didn't want to rest when I feel fine because it makes me feel like I'm sick. So I wanted to act normal, in spite of what you told me. But Nee-san got mad and told me not to be foolish. She said it's a bother to you two if I push myself and collapse."

"――――Hm." …That's right. We stopped Sakura from doing the laundry after lunch. She wouldn't listen to me, but when I was wondering how to convince her, Tohsaka came to help.

But it wasn't anything nice… "If you collapse, we'll have to kill you." …As her harsh words would indicate.

"…Yeah. Tohsaka was mad." "Yes. Nee-san scolded me."

Sakura sounds happy. ……I see. She knows that Tohsaka cares about her, no matter what she said.

"Then you have to rest. No matter what you may think, your body's tired. Tohsaka and I can go outside without worries if you're resting like this."

"…You're right. But I'm really healthy. I'm just not feeling well right now, and I'll be back to normal tomorrow. This is just like that cold, and I'll get over it in a day."

"…You idiot. I know I'm not one to talk after I woke you up, but you should rest. Sleep, if you can. I'll come wake you up for dinner, so you just relax until then." I get up to leave. ――――But.

"Oh――――" Sakura grabs my shirt.

"Sakura…?" "Um――――I'm going to sleep like you told me to, but… Um, It'll make me happy if you're by my side."

"――――――――" Sakura rarely demands something. She must not want to burden others, so she tries to do most things by herself. But Sakura is asking something from me right now. Well, this is nothing, but it must be the most selfish thing she can think of.

That's why she looks so uneasy. I'll do any favor she asks of me, but she only asks trivial things like this.

"――――Okay. Then I'll stay here a bit longer." I suppress my urge to embrace Sakura and manage to tell her. "All right! Then I'm going to go brew some tea! I'll treat you the best Chinese tea!" Sakura heads to the door in a hurry.

"Hold on. I'll brew the tea, so you stay in bed. You're putting the cart before the horse." "Oh… Y-You're right. I'm acting strange." Sakura hurries back to her bed. I pat her head as I pass by and go to brew us some tea.

――――But. This situation is more nerve-wracking than I thought. I'm alone with Sakura. She's right before my eyes, and I can see her bare neck and her captivating breasts. That alone, um――――reminds me of what happened that night, and I don't know where to look.

"But to be honest… I knew you liked Nee-san. Because you're always so happy in front of her."

…So everything Sakura says goes over my head. I'll lose control if I look at her too closely. …I'm a man, you know? Recalling what happened that night makes me want to push her down and get a taste of her body again.

"…Isn't it? I'm not attractive like Nee-san. And you seem to like Ilya-san too. …Um, do you not like girls with big breasts?"

I take a deep breath and calm myself down. I can't push her down when she's not feeling well―――wait, having sex with her will help her. Then it's not bad. It's not bad, but――――

"…………"

―――That's right! Tohsaka is next door, first of all! They'll notice right away if I do such a thing, so I'm sure they'll look down on me for doing it so early in the day――――

"……Wait, Sakura…? …Um, did I do something to make you angry?" Realizing that Sakura is unhappy, I come back to the real world.

"…No, you haven't done anything. That's the problem." "…?" "…Um, I said something very suggestive. You weren't listening, though."

"Ugh… I'm sorry. I was spaced out. Um, I think we were talking about Tohsaka…" "Yes. We were talking about Nee-san. I was asking if you're happy now that Nee-san's staying here."

"Oh――――" …That's right. I was asking Sakura about our situation.

"So how is it? You like Tohsaka, right? So doesn't this make you happy?"

"…Yes, it is delightful. But I'm also feeling uneasy. Nee-san is my ideal, and she has many things I could not obtain. That's why I want to look away when she's near me, and I can't be honestly delighted. It feels like I'm being condemned by Nee-san and myself for what I'm doing."

"――――――――" I can understand Sakura's point. It's painful to have your ideal in front of you because it makes you feel inferior. …Well, I do understand, but…

"…Sakura. Your ideal is someone like Tohsaka?" I ask timidly. Tohsaka might punch me if she was here.

"Yes. I've always wanted to be like Nee-san. Oh, it's not as a magus, but as a girl. Nee-san can do anything, and she's always dignified. I want to be as cool as her."

Sakura sounds happy. …Hmm. I hate to admit it, but Tohsaka certainly is cool. She's really manly in the sense that she takes responsibility for what she says.

"…I see. But you couldn't see Tohsaka until now, right? Something about the agreement between the two families. So how do you know about her?"

"You can't help but wonder. Nee-san and I don't remember about when we were small. It was so long ago. But we both knew that we were sisters."

"That's why we were more interested, and we watched each other from afar. We never sat down and talked, but I heard a lot of rumors about Tohsaka-Senpai, who was a year ahead of me."

"――――Oh. You must mean the rumor that she's a perfect honor student. Now that you mention it, you never run out of things to talk about her since she's famous."

"Yes. And it's not like I never met her. She would often greet me at school and come watch the archery club."

"…And I would always think at those times. That I'm content that she's watching me. I'm happy that she's worried about me, and I knew she would hate me if I ask for more."

"……? Why would she hate you?" "…My magic is not like Nee-san's. There is no set limitation on how you use your magic. Senpai's magic is to accomplish something and to create a phenomenon. There is no restricted goal set from the start."

"Hm… You're right. Strengthening is one of the only things I can do, but you can use a strengthened object to do all sorts of things."

"…But the Matou magic is different. Matou's magic is limited to 'stealing away from others'. There is no other use for it. It only feeds on other people's pain, and there is no teaching to return their happiness."

"………" I can't just nod in response to that. I don't know what kind of magic she was taught at the Matou household. The magic she was taught is a heresy, and Sakura is ashamed of it.

…The problem between Sakura and Tohsaka is the difference in their family's magic. The more Sakura hates the magic of Matou, the more self-loathing she feels――――

"So you hate magic of Matou?" "Senpai. That's like asking someone if she hates breathing." Then. Sakura looks up and starts talking like Tohsaka.

"I don't like it or hate it. I just couldn't live without it. I was adopted by the Matou family for that reason alone. If I hadn't been able to succeed them, I would have died." "――――――――"

"Oh, please don't make a face like that. The teaching was certainly strict, but it wasn't as tough as you may think."

"And if you want to talk about strictness, it's not even close to your training. I'm fine with getting hurt by others, but I'm scared of hurting myself. I want to live, so I can't end it myself. I don't mind other people cutting my wrist, but I'm scared to cut it myself."

"But you can do either. …Um, I've seen your nightly training. I-It was only once, though. I forgot something here, came back, heard something in the shed, and went to check it out."

Sakura bows her head in apology. But I don't want her apologizing for something like that.

"No, you don't have to apologize. That's carelessness on my side. I'm a failure as a magus if I can't notice the presence around me."

"……………Um." "More importantly, when was that? Was it right after you started coming here?" I really hope so. I'm improving, even though it may be really slowly. If I didn't notice Sakura's presence recently, that means I haven't improved at all.

"…It was last summer. It's the day Fujimura-Sensei brought a watermelon." "――――I see, that's good." I sigh with relief. I guess I can excuse myself if it was half a year ago.

"…So, um, Sakura. …Well, what did you think?" She's the first person besides Kiritsugu who saw me training in magic. I practiced in front of Tohsaka these past few days, but that's different from the training I do in the shed.

So Sakura's opinion is like a test. Sakura is Matou's magus, so I might be able to get a good score――――

"Umm. I guess I'll use my right to remain silent. I'm not Nee-san, but it'd be terrible if I put a score on it." "Ugh――――does that mean I got a failing score?" "Ahaha, you can say it's a really bad failing score."

"――――――――" …Crap. Sakura doesn't seem similar to her sister, but she actually is.

"But Senpai. That's the only time I saw it. …No, I couldn't see it again because I was too scared." "…? Too scared…?"

"Yes. Not only that, but I thought many times that I should stop you. …Your training isn't normal. It looked to me like you were stabbing your own throat. It's not that I imagined it, but it really did look that way. …Your training was that dangerous."

I understand what Sakura wants to say. Creating a Magic Circuit is close to death for me. My body would explode if the concentration in me is off by a few millimeters. But isn't that an ordinary compensation for a magus? Kiritsugu was the one who told me that death is a magus' constant companion.

"―――Really? I hear that it's like that for all magi. Maybe it looks dangerous for me because I'm unskilled."

"You're wrong. It's not a question of skill. First of all, you're special in that you can use magic when you don't have the talent. Magic is not something you use, but something you teach the body. No magus creates a new Magic Circuit for each spell the way you do."

"……?" "I'm talking about the final result. …Every night, you did something that could kill you. Nobody forced you, and you didn't get anything out of it. But you stubbornly continued."

"…I think that's something even Nee-san can't do. You follow through on what you've decided until the very end, regardless of whether it's right or not. So you're probably the strongest one out of all of us."

"Wait――――――――" I-It's really embarrassing if you say something like that with a straight face.

"Y―――You idiot, I'm not giving you anything, not even if you flatter me! F-First of all, Tohsaka's the strong one! A-And I don't know what kind of a magus you are, but you're the successor of Matou, and you also have Rider…!"

"No, you are strong, Senpai. It's not because of your Magic Circuit or your talent, but because your mind is pure. …I knew that from the very first time I met you. I knew you would never betray anyone."

"Uh――――――well…" I don't know how to respond when she talks seriously like that.

"…Thanks. I'm glad you said that, even if you're just flattering me." I'm embarrassed, but I tell her how I feel. Sakura… Smiles happily and looks straight at me.

"……!" This is bad. The distracting thoughts I shook off earlier will return if she makes a face like that.

"…Um, I guess I'll get going now. You're sleepy too, right? There's always tonight, so you should rest well in the afternoon." I cough intentionally. I look to the wall… to Tohsaka and Ilya on the other side.

"Y-You're right. There's tonight too, and Nee-san is next door." She must understand how I feel, as she blushes and starts muttering. …I bet I look like that too.

"Then I'm going back to my room. I'll come get you when it's dinnertime." "Oh――――please hold on, Senpai…!" "…? What is it?"

"U-Um… I'd be really happy if… you could stay here until I fall asleep…" I bitterly smile at her intermittent words. Actually, it's something I want to ask her if I can. She's so timid that she probably doesn't even know how much I've fallen for her.

"Okay. I'll stay here if I'm not a bother. I'll go after you fall asleep. Is that fine?"

"O-Of course! I'll do my best to stay up!" But Sakura… I'm glad you're saying that, but that defeats the whole point.

Sakura suddenly falls silent once she lies down. She must've been tired. It looks like she suddenly got sleepy once she laid down.

But still… "But Senpai. I'll get well if I rest today, but what about your arm?" She must have no intention of going to sleep, as Sakura keeps talking.

"My arm is doing fine. It doesn't hurt as long as I keep this cloth on, and it's slowly starting to move. At this pace, I'm sure it'll move fine by tomorrow."

"That's good. It's been a while since Nee-san treated it, right? It looked like it was just first-aid, so I thought the effect might've worn off." Sakura smiles with relief.

"――――. What do you mean, it's been a while?" "Nee-san's at fault too. She's free to transfer her crest, but the Tohsaka's Magic Crest will never familiarize itself with anyone not from the Tohsaka family. She should know it was just a makeshift that won't even last seven days."

Sakura says it like it's nothing. But―――― "Won't even last seven days…?" It sounds very out of place.

"Yeah. It's about to wear off, so you have to get properly treated. My magic can't solve the root problem, so I'll ask Rider if she has any good ideas――――" Sakura looks sleepy.

"――――――――" I can't reply. …I can only convince myself that Sakura is saying strange things because she's about to fall asleep.

"…You're there, right, Senpai?" "Yeah, I'm here." "…Good. Please stay by my side, Senpai. I have nightmares if I'm alone, so please――――" …Sakura slowly closes her eyes. Her breathing becomes more gentle, and she goes into a deep sleep.

I turn off the light and leave her room. "…………" I saw Sakura fall asleep peacefully, but I don't feel any peace of mind.

So please―――keep watch and be on your guard against me.

…I think that's what she said unconsciously… …Right before she fell asleep.

Interlude 11-1

"I'm coming in, Sakura." He opens the door without waiting for a reply. He has never waited for his younger sister's reply before opening this door.

"What, she's not home yet? What a slug." He clucks his tongue and walks into the room. Scratching at the wall, Matou Shinji wanders through his sister's room like a blind dog.

"Sakura. Are you in the basement again? What're you doing down there, ignoring me?" He keeps asking questions that will not be answered. There is no one in the room. His sister has not been home the past few days. It is obvious that the master of this room is not here, but Shinji wanders through it all the same.

"It's just like always. Haha, it really is like always!" He throws the clock that touches his hand. The sound of shattering glass is more annoying than he thought.

"Where the hell are you? Keeping a secret from your brother? Why the hell is everyone doing as they please…!?" He starts throwing things like mad. …This is like always too. This outlet has been his daily routine for the past few years. It is his best opposition that began three years ago when he found out the truth.

――――The Matou bloodline came to an end when he was born.

The noble family lost its power, becoming mere humans. The only special thing is the accumulated knowledge. The once noble family of magi is fated to perish in this Far East country.

He has known this since he was young. The Matou family was a family that passed down secret techniques. But it is all in past tense now. As the Matou are no longer able to use magic, they are to blend into society as ordinary people.

But he did not think so. Their Magic Circuit faded away, leaving them unable to perform their secret techniques. The bloodline of magi ended for Matou in his father's generation, and he knows that he does not have the right to succeed the Matou name. But the Matou family still has the records. The bloodline perished, but the accumulated knowledge is not lost.

――――That itself is "special" enough for the boy. He thinks he is different from others. The Matou family have been chosen. That will not change, even if they lose their power and cease to be magi. He was proud of himself because he was born into a special family to be raised in a special way. Even if he is a failure as a magus, he is a child born into the chosen family.

…But a new child slipped into the chosen family. His father adopted a girl who had none of her own. It all happened more than ten years ago. The girl named Sakura became his little sister from that day on.

At first, he hated his new sibling. He did not want any outsiders coming into the special Matou household. But the boy started to accept his sister day by day. The girl named Sakura was silent and ordinary, no more capable than a guard dog. It is a waste of time to be hostile against someone like that, and it is more charming if one is to consider her a servant.

He looked through books, memorizing magic he could not use, to remind himself that he was the Matou heir. He was the only one who could enter the study. His adopted sister could never be named the successor, so she had no right to trespass there. His sister would live as a normal human being, never being taught the family's surviving knowledge. This fact greatly satisfied his pride.

A family of magi has only one successor. He knew that, so he did not question their separate upbringings. Only one could learn magic. Then it was only natural that his sister be raised apart.

Yes. He felt sympathy for his sister. They lived in the same house and had the same parents, but he was the only one who could call himself special, and he pitied his sister for not being chosen. It is like a compassion of a superior being looking down onto others―――and it is his most reliable pride.

The brother treated his sister as a failure. The sister feared her brother and always looked down, as if avoiding his gaze. He thought it was because of shame, and he despised and loved her for it at the same time. Until he found out the truth.

"What――――――――?"

That was all he could manage when he accidentally found the room.

A room he has never been told about. Knowledge that was not taught to him. Talent that was not given to him. Everything was in the room. A naked girl lay in the middle of the room. Around her were swarms of black worms and his terrifying grandfather. And his father glared at the boy as if he was a nuisance, an attitude he had never taken towards him.

And that ended it. Everything he believed in, everything that constructed him was turned upside-down.

It was not him that was special. It was not his sister that was kept at a distance. It was not her that was pitiable. And it was not her that was looking down on the other person――――

His life completely changed. Since he no longer needed to hide anything, his father took a defiant attitude towards his son. He started spending more time with the boy's sister instead. His sister did not say anything, but would just hang her head like always. She still acted as though running away from his gaze when she would say… "I'm sorry, Nii-san." …As if pitying him. She said it with the emotion that he once felt for his sister.

"Ha――――Haha, hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!"

He laughed. It was funny. It was so funny that he wanted to kill. The one he had thought was his pet was actually his master, and he was just a fool. Which one is the funny one? It must be both. At that time, as he went back to the mansion with unsteady steps, he realized.

The world had not been turned upside-down. It had been like this all along. The inverted one―――the one who was misunderstood was him. It is just that he finally realized his own miserableness.

The three years after that were only pain for him. His father died, and his grandfather only cared about Sakura. Matou Shinji became just like air in his house. He was treated as an object whose existence did not matter, and that truly was the case.

She pitied the air. She apologized. Though she never spoke the words aloud, she apologized every time she saw him. She apologized for taking Matou Shinji's place.

"Why are you apologizing――――?"

She could've just ignored him. Then he wouldn't have hated her, wouldn't have clung to hope. Sakura apologized. Apologizing means submitting something. Then――――

"――――Then you're mine from now on."

Considering all the contempt he had endured, he saw nothing wrong in accepting this.

"Hah――――is she still over at Emiya's? Even though she's the successor of Matou. Even though she's the successor of Matou. Even though she's the successor of Matou――――!"

The room shows no signs of life. But that is to be expected. Matou Sakura's "room" is the underground worm's nest, and this is merely for show. The master of the room does not care how much he breaks the things in this room. This room is no different from the doorplate that hangs at the entrance.

"Yeah, but you still apologize…! 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry'…!? Don't disobey me if you think you're sorry…! If you feel guilty, keep compensating for it! If you know you've been sold out to this house, be mine…!" He scratches the sheets. Something that was his. Why did a doll that did not think or resist leave him?

"――――You took her. You took her, Emiya." That was his miscalculation. He knew she was attracted to Emiya Shirou. That thing that held no interest in anything started to say things after getting to know him. She gradually regained herself, and in the end, she betrayed him.

He trained her to never disobey him, but now she chooses a total stranger over her own brother――――

"That's why I said it wasn't safe to have her over at Emiya's. But that old bastard spouted some bullshit about keeping watch on that house――――!" His grandfather does not even try to take Sakura back. He said it is fine as is, and moreover, confined him to this house.

"――――You watch. I'm going to make you pay for this, Sakura. You should never disobey me――――" …That's right. If a doll is disobedient, he'll just reset the relationship to be like it was before. If she gained hope to become human…

"…Yeah. I just have to destroy her hope again, just like before." He laughs. The clouded window reflects a face as ghastly as a skull.

End of Interlude

It's afternoon now. Tohsaka seems busy and Sakura's sleeping, so I should make dinner. My left arm moves even though it reacts slow, so it shouldn't hinder me if I'm to make something simple.

"Hmm… I guess I can make fried swordfish and simmered meat and potato." I check the contents of the refrigerator and decide the menu. There are two additional people eating now, so the food gets used up quickly. I should find some time to go to the shopping district tomorrow.

"Itadakimasu!" Everyone must've liked having dinner ready when they came here, since they all seem to be in a good mood.

I'm worried that Rider isn't here, but I'm sure she has her reasons. Her top priority is guarding Sakura. So maybe she has no intention of spending time around Tohsaka, who may end up being her enemy.

"…Will Rider come eat later on?" I'll pack it up and take her some if she doesn't come. Rider seems to like desolate places, so I bet she's either in the dojo or the shed.

"Oh, so you're good at this? Sakura's good at Western food and you're good at Japanese food?"

Tohsaka picks up the fried swordfish and looks at me in surprise. It's golden fried with a scent of ginger, with an elegant soy sauce taste. She seems to really like it.

"I like this one better. I'm glad you're good at cooking." Ilya eats the potatoes in satisfaction. …It's unfortunate that she's only eating the "potato" part of the "simmered meat and potato", but I'm glad she likes it.

…Wait. Sakura is tilting her head in confusion, chopsticks in hand.

"Sakura? What's wrong? You don't have any appetite?" "…Oh… Um, I do, but Senpai? The simmered meat and potato doesn't have any sugar in it. It tastes strange."

"What!?" I-I made such a stupid mistake on something I'm so used to cooking…!?

"Damn, hold on…!" I serve myself out of the big dish in the center and try some.

"…Hm?" ………That's strange. This tastes normal.

"Sakura. Does this taste weird?" "Weird? Didn't you use salt instead of sugar? I don't taste anything sweet…"

"Really? Isn't it supposed to taste this way? Well, it does taste different because there's something in it to bring out the flavor. But this is something you can't readily copy and make." "I don't know since this is the first time I've had this dish, but it's good. It's sweet and easy to eat."

Sakura looks dissatisfied as she reaches out for seconds. …One bite, two bites, three bites. "Sakura…?"

"Huh? Oh, it seems I ate a piece that wasn't simmered. I'm sorry I said something weird. Your food is good like always." Sakura smiles and keeps eating.

"…………" Sakura keeps eating like nothing happened. I was worried by Sakura's odd behavior, but she seemed well enough after that. In fact, she asked for seconds three times. Sakura kept eating and finished off the food while Tohsaka stared at her in surprise.

It's past ten o'clock. "It's about time. Let's get going, Shirou." Tohsaka finishes preparing and appears. "――――I know. Please watch the house while we're gone, Sakura."

Tohsaka and I head out to patrol the town as planned. …It's stupid that this is our only measure against Zouken, but it's all we can do for now.

We need to defeat Zouken, Assassin, Saber, and the black shadow. …They aren't ones we can defeat head on. We have to sit tight until the countermeasure Tohsaka is preparing is completed.

But we can't just stay at my house. According to the news this morning, Matou Zouken has started to attack ordinary people. We can't match them right now, but we should at least patrol the town so that there won't be more victims.

"……" "……" We put our shoes on silently. We know how dangerous it is to go out into town at night. Zouken is only after Sakura, but we should get in his way if we're walking about. …In the worst case, it'll be a repeat of our encounter in the forest. Considering that, we can't be talking lightheartedly.

"…Hey. What are you doing?" Then. We don't have anything to spare, but Tohsaka glares at me and――――

"You don't need to see us off. Go back to your room, Sakura." "……" ――――No, she's not glaring at me. She's glaring at Sakura, who is standing in the hallway.

"N-Nee-san. I'll go too. It's dangerous for you two to go out alone, so…" "――――Sakura." …That must be why she's here. I appreciate her concern. but our plan is already determined.

"No. You should know you're Zouken's target. Please stay here with Ilya and protect yourself."

"I know. But you can only use one arm, Senpai. And Nee-san doesn't have a Servant, so…" "Don't be ridiculous, Sakura. It doesn't change the fact that you're our enemy. I can't trust you with my back when I don't know when you'll turn into Zouken's puppet."

"…But, Nee-san." "You just concentrate on protecting yourself. If you feel sorry for us, please don't trouble us about this. Just let Rider protect you and Ilya."

"Tohsaka, you――――whoa, hey…!" "Hey, don't just stand there. Let's get going. While we stand around, he could be out there attacking somebody else." Tohsaka grabs my hand and drags me outside.

"Oh――――just be careful and watch the house, Sakura…! I'll leave Ilya to you…!" I leave with Tohsaka pulling at me.

"………" Sakura doesn't say anything and stands at the entrance, lonely.

"Hey, wait, Tohsaka! I'll follow you, so let go of me already!" "Humph. It's your fault for being slow." Tohsaka lets go and comes to a halt.

"…What's with that face? If you have something to say, then spit it out." And it's like this all of a sudden. Tohsaka is acting defiantly. …Man. If it bothers her that much, she shouldn't have said it in the first place.

"…Man. Then I'm saying it, Tohsaka. It's about what happened now, but don't say such things to Sakura. Sakura isn't like that because she wants to be."

"I know. But that's why I have to be firm with her. If we aren't, Zouken will be sure to take advantage."

"…This is a good opportunity, so let me straighten this out. I don't feel any sympathy towards Sakura. It doesn't concern me if she's Zouken's puppet, and I have nothing to do with what happened to her after she was adopted to the Matou family. It does no good for me to say anything about her problem."

"――――Tohsaka." "Look. I'm at your house not because Sakura is there, but because you're there. My goal is not to save Sakura, but to obtain the Holy Grail. I'll keep watch on Sakura for that goal, and I don't care even if she hates me for it. That's why I'll say things like that, and I'm going to keep treating her as my enemy."

"…So it won't bother you at all if she hates you? Her feelings don't matter because she's a complete stranger?" "That's right. Do you have any complaints?" "You idiot. Of course I do."

…Man, this is not like Tohsaka. She should be able to say it like it's nothing. Instead, she's clenching her fists like she's trying to convince herself.

"All right. If you want to act that way, then go ahead. Sakura knows how you feel, no matter what kind of attitude you take towards her."

"Huh―――what do you mean by that!?" "I'm talking about how important Sakura is to you. I'm an outsider and I notice it, so it should be obvious to her."

"――――That's a misunderstanding. I just…" "There's nothing to misunderstand. People can't get seriously mad about things they don't care about. You're strict to Sakura for a reason. You don't say it, but she's still your precious sister." "W――――What are you saying, you idiot!!? Stop saying such snobby things!!!!"

Tohsaka's face turns red with anger. But I don't feel the usual intensity, and I know why.

"Oh? Was it a bother?" "It is a bother. Isn't it obvious?"

"I see. Then while I'm at it, I have something else to say. I want you and Sakura to get along. She likes you, and you like her. So I don't like it when it's this awkward between you two."

"…Hey now. She has to be my enemy. Making friends with her now won't do any good. I wouldn't even know where to start." "Isn't it fine as is? Have confidence in yourself, Tohsaka. Even I can tell that you're being a good big sister."

"――――E-Enough with the chatting! We're going to the place they showed in the news this morning!" Tohsaka looks away and starts to walk. I reply to her absent-mindedly and follow. ――――Then.

"Shirou." She calls my name without looking at me and… "Um, thanks. That made me, um… happy." Tohsaka grumbles, embarrassed.

…There's nobody at the central park. The park that's deserted even during the day is even quieter after the murder yesterday. The park is not a place for relaxation within the business district, and it is no different from a desert in an uncultivated land.

"…A murder, huh? It seems people are treating it as an accident rather than a murder case. Well, I guess you really can't call it murder when you can't tell who died and what the missing body parts are."

I still see traces of blood on the grass. …It looks like a bucketful was spilled in four separate areas. The darkened patches have some distance between them, probably because the victims frantically tried to escape.

"Tohsaka. You said this might be Zouken's doing, but what do you think now? Do you still think so after coming here?"

"……Let's see. I thought it might be the black shadow's doing, but it doesn't seem that way. All the mana in the area would be swallowed if that thing had appeared. But the magical energy here isn't exhausted. …Well, I still think the incident here was an unexpected meal."

That's all the information we can get out of this place. Tohsaka and I leave the site of the tragedy behind us.

…We didn't find anything in Shinto. Maybe Zouken is not active tonight, probably because the incident yesterday was so vivid.

The date's about to change. A riverside breeze blows as we trudge home. And… "Tohsaka. Sakura is the successor of Matou, right?" I suddenly feel like asking the question that was on my mind for a while.

"Why are you asking that now? I have nothing to hide." "No, that's not what I meant. If she's the successor, that means she's a magus, right? So I'm wondering what kind of magic she uses." "Oh, I see now."

"…Yeah, I hear Matou's magic is in bindings and coercions. I also hear that the Command Spell wouldn't have been possible without Matou."

"Oh. So Sakura's magic is restriction? But then…" On that day… The magic Sakura used when the crest worm tortured her must have been Rider's power.

"……I don't think it's restriction. That's the Makiri's forbidden magic, and it's not their strong point. But it's meaningless to think about it. Sakura doesn't have the magical energy to use magic. The crest worm will feed on such excess energy first, so she shouldn't be able to use magic."

"…I see, that's good. So, how good is Sakura in your eyes? Is she about as good as you, considering she's the Matou successor?" "We have about the same number of Magic Circuits. Did you forget that we're sisters?"

"Oh." That's right. That's why they wanted to adopt her in the first place.

"Oh, so she's about as good as you?" "I don't think so. My attribute is 'five elements', and hers is 'imaginary element'. But the Matou family has a water attribute, so they changed her by force. What do you think would happen to a bird that has a potential to fly if it's put in water?"

"It'll die, or…" "Yes. Adapting to the water would be all it could do. She would've had great success as a magus of Tohsaka, but she's no different from you because she was forced to change into a magus of Matou. No, you're much stronger than her because you train your body."

"Then let's say you and Sakura fought using magic…" "I'd win ten times out of ten. With her magical energy capacity, Sakura would never get past my barrier."

…I see. I couldn't figure out what kind of magus Sakura is, but I got to know their power balance. Tohsaka isn't one to bluff, so she must be speaking the truth.

"…But I'm embarrassed. I never knew Sakura was a magus, and I don't know how good she is. I'm a dumbass for pretending to be her guardian all this times." "Hey now. The crest worm eats the magical energy in her, so you'd never know she's a magus even if you're by her all the time."

"…And she did her best not to let you know. So don't say such a thing in front of her, okay?"

"…………" She doesn't even need to tell me. Sakura is Sakura, even if she is a magus. First of all, I'm not that skillful. No matter who Sakura may really be, I can only treat her like I always have.

"You're right. If you say so, I'll just treat her the same as always. I won't even think about asking for her help as a magus. That's fine with you, right?"

"Of course. If you were going to rely on Sakura, I would've taken her to my house."

Tohsaka's kindness makes my heart jump. …See. Tohsaka really is a good sister.

"But I don't think that's possible. Sakura smiles when she's at your house. If you talk about surprising, that's what surprised me the most." ―――Then. A look of happiness on her face, she says something odd.

"Smile? But Sakura, is, um…" She's always like that.

"Yeah, it was needless worry on my part. I can't talk to her that much, so I watched her. I went to the archery club every day after she started coming to our school."

"―――――Yeah, I know that, but…" "…Yeah. And I realized after a while that she never smiled."

"――――――――" That's… …Something I'm hearing for the first time, but I can't deny what she's saying. Come to think of it, Sakura always looked gloomy at school.

"Well, the only exception was when you were there. She smiled whenever you came to the archery club. In short, Sakura's only cheerful when you're in front of her."

"……" Her words should make me happy. But… "…Sakura doesn't smile in front of people?" …They seem to hide a dangerous truth.

It's past one o'clock when I return to my room.

"――――――――Phew." I sit down on my futon. Our patrol yielded nothing. All we did was confirm that this morning's news was real.

"……" Enemies we must defeat. Just thinking about them sends cold, nauseous feelings through me.

Even a human could match Zouken or Assassin. But those two are different. I don't even know if the black shadow has a concept of death, and Saber is someone we don't even stand a chance against. But―――as long as there are victims, we can't just ignore them saying we can't beat them.

"…Archer's arm, huh?" I put my hand on the red cloth. …I have a weapon. I don't know how far this will get me, but I do have a weapon. The question is if I can manage it, and if my body can withstand it.

"………I guess a bit is fine." I untie the knot on the red cloth. The cloth loosens up, and blood flows into my arm.

At that instant. I think I heard a beast's howl.

I'm stabbed. My whole body is pierced. Is this pain? If this is pain, then the pain I've experienced until now isn't pain.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. The floor's ruggedness. The softness of the futon hurts. It feels like I'm sitting on a mountain of swords. The air is poisonous, and I die three times as I breathe it in. Birds are chirping in the distance. The wind is strong. There's no moisture. My skin dries and turns into sand. Flowing, scouring, crumbling.

Tongs are inserted from the hollowed holes. Thirty-two enter where my shoulder used to be. They carefully, accurately, and elaborately pierce my internal jugular vein, trachea, spinal cord, sympathetic nervous system, lobus superior pulmonis, lobus medius pulmonis dextri, lobus inferior pulmonis, main artery, heart, diaphragm, spleen, stomach, liver, gall bladder, and colon.

"Ah――――!" It's crumbling. Time slows to an impossible crawl. I see sixty-trillion cells crumbling apart at the rate of three four naught per second.

"―――――, ―――――――" There is no pain. There is no pain. There is no pain. There is only fear. The end roll invades with amazing speed. The flashback stops with fantastic image. Death before my eyes, death past me, death at the moment, the pain is not physical, but only the explosion of negation every time death is thrown at me―――― "Haa, ah――――………!" …I hear a sound. The sound of my head striking the floor.

"Ah――――Ah." …My eyes are hot. I realize I've been crying.

"Ah――――Ahh, ah." Desperately, I stifle the scream building in my throat. I curl up, push my head against the floor, grab my left arm with my right hand, and just cry.

"――――Ah――――Ahh, ah――――" I'm scared. The thing I've been missing since the fire ten years ago. I'm scared. A natural fear for any living thing. I'm scared. For the first time in my life, I want to run away from my end.

"Haa――――――――aa." It's not because dying will hurt. It's not because I want to live. It's just because it fills me with dread.

"――――Ah…… Kuh." I tie up the red cloth. I tie the knot tight, so that it'll never come loose again.

"――――No. This isn't good." I groan and cry. The priest said I'll die if I use my left arm. That's nonsense. I'll die if I take this cloth off. My body might be able to bear it, but my mind will die.

My consciousness crumbled away when I loosened the cloth and my shoulder touched the outside air. I could not bear it. I cannot live without this cloth.

――――No. If this arm is a contradictory existence that people should not associate with,

my body, its death foretold, runs to the terminal station,

the ship, with a crack in the bilge, can only sink into the ocean depths,

the passengers unaware, too late for anything――――

"………Ah――――"

――――My breath is running wild.

"――――Ah, guh."

――――I had a bad dream.

…I wipe the sweat off my forehead. I can't stand up. I stay cowered, bearing the strange pain.

"Ugh――――" …I can't remember. My left arm hurts. It hurts so much that I want to cut it off. I try to recall why it hurts, but I can't remember how to recollect anything in the past.

"Hm―――――――" The pain goes away. I gather up my consciousness. It must be because I was asleep. The dispersed memories look as if they can be cooked nicely, just like chopped onions. See, I can add color with soy sauce, add flavor with pepper, and add some potato starch to complete the dish.

"Whoa――――that sounds nasty." I murmur to myself. My head is good for nothing, but I can still manage to come up with a conclusion. In short, I don't have to eat something that's not good.

My left arm is already gone. Nobody relies on something that's not there. Therefore, Emiya Shirou has no weapon. This foreign body is something I must suppress using all my life, and will contaminate me for the rest of my life.

"………!" Suppressing it with the cloth is meaningless. If I want to rid myself of this poison, there is only one way. "―――, ―――――" But I still hold on to my left arm.

A gun is pointed at my forehead. An image of a trigger. The trigger is my left arm. Once pulled, the gun will fire, blowing my brains from my skull.

"……" I shudder. I hold my breath and stare at the white wall.

"………" Clutching my arm, I lie down. …I close my eyes. My whimpering finished, I decide to get some sleep for tomorrow.

…A small sound. I awaken to the sound of footsteps.

"――――――――" I wake up my dozing mind. It's almost two o'clock. …It hasn't even been thirty minutes since I fell asleep. I get up, still unconsciously holding on to my left arm.

"――――Sakura." Outside the room. I call out to the hallway where the footsteps came from. It's not that I know who's there. I just thought Sakura might be there.

"……….." ……The door opens. Sakura steps through into my room.

"――――――――" Biting her lip in embarrassment, she looks down as if unsure of what to say.

"……I'm sorry, Senpai. I, again…" Sakura apologizes. "――――――――" But I'm the one who should apologize.

The reason why Sakura's here. I know well enough the pain she has to go through. The crest worm feeds on her magical energy, so Sakura periodically needs to receive more from a magus.

"―――I'm sorry. I should've gone to see you as soon as I came home. I'm sorry for making you suffer."

I get up. …What was I thinking? I was so caught up with my left arm that I forgot about Sakura. I can't be forgiven even if I apologize.

"Um, Senpai…?" "Yeah, I want to make love to you, if that's all right with you." I use my left arm to pull her to me. I want to take the lead to make up for forcing her to come to me.

"Oh――――whoa." "S-Senpai…!? Are you all right…!?" "Oh, it's nothing. I just felt a bit dizzy."

―――Damn, that's pitiful! I unconsciously used my left arm and was reminded of the pain. Still, it shouldn't hurt so long as I have the cloth on, so what am I frightened about?

"…Oh, I have to take my clothes off. Can you take yours off too, Sakura?" I shake off the dizziness and look at her. …Then.

"Oh… S-Senpai…! I have a suggestion…!" I don't know if she's happy or nervous, but Sakura says something strange.

"…? Suggestion?" "Oh, yes. You're tired from the patrol, right?"

"…………Hm." …How should I answer? I can't deny it because I really am tired, but I'm not tired enough to not have sex with Sakura. Actually, I want to have sex even if I am tired.

"…Um, I'm tired. I'm tired, but I still want to make love to you. So you don't have to be concerned about me. …Well, you came all the way here, so don't stop now."

I'm ready to go. I'll be troubled all night if Sakura stops now.

"――――Yes, so I have a suggestion. I'm sure you're tired, so let me start off." "――――?" Sakura smiles. I nod, even though I have no idea what she's talking about.

"―――――――" I gulp. …At Sakura's request, I'm still standing. …On the other hand… Sakura is naked and on her knees in front of me.

"…Hm… It's already hard――――" "…Sakura, are you really-" "…Yes. It's all right, Senpai. I can make you feel good." Sakura takes my half-erect dick and gently holds it up.

I feel her breath on my crotch. "――――!" My dick expands. I get nervous and excited. I never thought I'd feel Sakura's breath on my penis.

"Hm… Ah."

Sakura's tongue touches my half-erect penis. "…Ah… Hm, mm, mm…" Something rough touches my head. A needle-like sensation lances into me from the tip. She only licked me, but it feels like she's caressing my whole back.

"Ah, ha… hm, hm… hm, how is it, Senpai…?"

……She doesn't need to ask…! Sakura traces my penis with her tongue, as if savoring the taste. Her tongue crawls across my member. Feeling the faint sensations, it instantly arches up.

"Kya…! Oh… it's so hard…, hm… I have to hold on to it…" My meat stands erect, almost touching my navel. But Sakura takes it and pulls it down. She gently grasps it with her slender fingers and puts the head in her mouth.

"Hm… kuh, hm…! Ah, hm, ah, it's so big… hm… my mouth is numb…" Sakura's tongue rolls around my tip as if licking on something sweet.

"――――!" I can't hold it back and I start to let out my pre-cum. "Ah… You're starting to feel good, Senpai… Hm, hm, nn, ah――――" She drinks it down. Sakura licks my urethra and moves her tongue carefully over my head.

The juice keeps spilling from me. She licks behind my shaft, my head, and even my rims.

"Hmm… ku, hm… fu, hm…" …I'm already hard. My nervousness is gone now.

"Ahn―――it twitched again… Aha… It feels good, right…?"

She licks it with familiarity. Her lips press against my tip. Her fingers gently stroke my sensitive genitals. Her thick tongue tickles me, but stimulates me at the same time.

"――――!" My penis enlarges in response to Sakura's tongue. It stands fully erect, clear liquid dripping from it. And…

"Ah, hm, haa…! Oh, it's so much… It's like it's crying… it's so――――" 'Cute'. Sakura kisses and drinks from it.

"Hm… hm… ah, hm��―――" ―――She gulps audibly. The stimulation from her red tongue doesn't cease. "…Hm, fu, ah, is it here, Senpai…?" …This is how Sakura feels towards me. She caresses me with sweet kisses. She touches me as if touching something dear and tender.

"Ah, fu… Yes, I'll do my best… so… please feel better…" Her touch is not intense, but full of deep affection.

"…Sakura…" There's no way her careful movements wouldn't feel good. Sakura doesn't move her face because she's only licking the tip. Her hot breath hits my fired member.

"…Ha… Nha, ha… Haa, hm…" Her ragged breaths. Sakura breathes, her shoulders moving up and down. The slight movement causes her large breasts to shake. "――――――――" Her soft touch, her sensual body. Heat starts to gather in my testicles.

"Hm…! …You're feeling good, right? Hm, it's moving… Aha, it's like it's alive." She laughs innocently. …Did she feel my desire? She runs a finger playfully along the vein.

"Hey――――that's…" "Oh…? You don't like it…? …Fufu―――then I'll do this." She pushes on my shaft, making rhythmical sounds. She pushes her fingers as if pushing on a pressure point.

"Kuh――――" The soft pleasure takes a sudden change. "Amazing… There's more… ahh, hm… hm…" …Sakura licks up the juice with her tongue. In its place, her saliva drips down her lips.

"Ahn――――I'm getting wet. Hm, hm… Is this better for you…?" Sakura wipes it with her hands and uses it to wet my member. She takes her slick hand and slides it across my shaft.

"Ah――――!" The sensation. My penis is wet with liquid from Sakura's mouth.

"Am… hm, fuh… Hm, hmm… Ahh… hm…" Sakura licks it and kisses my head. "Hm, uh…… Nha, ah, fuh…!" Maybe she can't breathe out her mouth because it's filled with my penis. Air blows out of her nose and along my organ.

"……Sakura, I――――" I want to let it out. Sakura's only sucking the tip, so the stimulation isn't that strong. It's a nice sensation, and my body could bear it if I wanted to.

"Hm, ah, Senpai…?" "Ha――――!" But my mind is at its limits. "Sakura, I…" I reach out to her shoulders.

"Hm… You're coming, Senpai? …Please leave it to me… I'll let you finish off." She puts the tip in her mouth. "――――!" She surrounds my tip, lightly nibbles on it, and gives me the stimulation I want.

"Hm―――Hm, mm……!" She sucks hard. Her tongue rolls around the rim. The rough top of her tongue and the slippery bottom of her tongue attack me continuously――――!

"…! No, Sakura, I'm coming…!" "Hm, okay… Please let it out, Senpai―――" ―――Sakura pulls her mouth away. I'm about to explode. She grabs the root of my shaft and squeezes the cum out of me.

"――――――――!" "Hm――――Hm, hm――――" My cum surges out. Sakura opens her mouth and catches my cum.

"…Ha, ah―――it's still coming out… hm… You're still hard, Senpai――――" Her fingers slide across my shaft. She strokes it, trying to squeeze out what's left inside.

"――――――――Ah…" "Hm… hm… Did it feel good, Senpai…?" Sakura drinks my cum with an expression of ecstasy. …She looks lascivious and beautiful at the same time. The thick liquid drips down her chin and her breasts. Smiling, she lets it run down her body.

"――――Sakura." It's not enough. I want to drive Sakura crazy. "Hm……… Senpai…?" I grab her hand and pull her to my futon.

"――――Let's continue. I want to put it in you so that I can feel you." I embrace her hot body.

"…Okay. If you're doing it, Senpai." Sakura leans against me, accepting my offer. …My penis is still rock hard. My lusts won't go away with just one orgasm. I can only think about following my instinct and piercing it in Sakura.

"Eh…? On top of you…?" "Yeah, you're doing it today, right? Just spread your legs and move yourself."

―――I lie down and have Sakura come on top of me. I didn't have anything specific in mind. I just thought I'd be able to connect deeper with her this way.

"………Um, like this…?" Sakura puts her knees on the floor and sits over my crotch. Sakura looks like she feels awkward being on top, but all that's left is to drop her body.

"…Um, Senpai. I…" "It's all right. I won't do anything until you get comfortable. You can move at your own pace." "………Okay. If you say so." Sakura nods uneasily and slowly lowers herself.

"Hmm, it's here, right…?" She takes ahold of me and guides me into her. The tip touches her slit with a wet sound. She must be aroused already. It's so wet that there's no need to caress it.

"Ah――――!" She holds my penis and pushes it into her.

"Ha, ah――――nha……!" She must not be able to adjust her height, as half my penis is inserted in one breath.

"――――Sakura, put your strength in your legs." I grit my teeth and try to bear the sudden pleasure as I direct Sakura.

"Oh, yes… You're right…" She must be nervous, as her walls are different from before. They still wrap warmly around me, but they don't squeeze. It seems Sakura doesn't have the composure to concentrate on her hips.

"Sakura…? You have to lower yourself." "…Oh, okay…" But she doesn't. She just looks away awkwardly.

"What's wrong? Is there a reason you can't?" "U-Um… It's because… you can see everything in this position…"

That's what's causing Sakura to get nervous. Embarrassment and hesitation. She caressed my penis so intently, but it seems having her vagina seen is embarrassing.

"It's fine. I want to see everything. I got into this position so that I can feel you the most." I reach out. I wrap my arms around her waist so that I can ease her nervousness.

"……! Y-You said you won't move, Senpai…!" "Yeah, I won't move if you do it. Come on, lower your hips if you don't want me to move." "……Hm… You're mean, Senpai." Sakura sighs and closes her eyes as if to bear the embarrassment.

"…Hm… Ahh… ah, hm…!" She slowly lowers herself. ―――As she said, I can see everything from here.

Sakura's weight causes my penis to penetrate deeply into her. I can clearly see her slit and her clit showing underneath her pubes. It's wet between us, and she's overflowing with her desires.

"Hm… This is certainly embarrassing. Did you have an orgasm back then?" "Ah… ah… No…! I-I only started feeling good after being in this position…!"

She gives a cute excuse as she keeps lowering herself. She must have wanted it so bad that she can't stop herself now.

"Ha, hm…! No, Senpai's looking, but I want it in deeper――――" Her knees completely bend. Sakura's soft butt touches my thighs.

"Ah… ha… hm, haa… ah… It's all in, Senpai――――"

Is it painful to have all of it inside? Sakura breathes out and tries to bear the foreign substance within her.

"…All right. Then lift yourself up now. Keep moving until you get used to it." "…Hm… All right. I'll keep moving, Senpai." She slowly lifts herself. My penis is gradually exposed to the outside air.

"…Haa… Haa, haa, ah…!"

―――It doesn't take long for Sakura's body to accept it. She moves up and down. The slow movement slowly speeds up.

"Fua, ha, hm――――! Haa… Senpai, this is scary…!" …Sakura's breaths heat up along with her body. ―――Her figure. A woman is shaking while breathing heavily. Just watching Sakura's voluptuous body pours gasoline onto the flames of my desire.

"―――――!" I'm beginning to forget about my promise not to move until Sakura gets used to it. But my penis pulsates before anything.

"Ah, ha…! Ah, it's hitting me, it's coming in, ha, fua――――!" My meat pushes inside of her. As its arched back, it pushes up on her stomach. "Hm… Ah, my stomach――――ah, hah…! Amazing, it's so full…!" She must like it as she starts to move faster.

"Kuh… haa…! Ah… ahh…! Hm, it's deeper than before…!" "Guh――――" She'll pull me in at this pace. My reasoning will be burned by Sakura's hot walls.

"Ah… hah, ahh…! It's heavy, and I can't stop my butt…!"

This position gives me too much pleasure. My penis goes in and out like last time, but the sensation is different. Is it because she's on top of me? Sakura's body is more sensual than last time, and she seems to be wetter.

"Sakura――――" The feel of her weight on me is so lovely that I reach out unconsciously.

"Hm… Your hand, Senpai…!" I cover her breasts with my hands.

"I'm so glad―――please touch them… Please squeeze them, touch them as you like…!" ―――Her breasts are soft, yet firm. Letting my male instincts take over, I dig my fingers into her breasts and fondle her hard nipples with my thumb.

"Hya…! Ah, mm――――!" Her body arches back. I circle her areola and roll her nipples between my fingers. "Haa… ah, haa… Do my breasts feel good…?" Her pink nipples grow still harder. Sakura's body grows even hotter.

"Ah, hm…! Ah, it feels good…! Please feel it, Senpai――――!" Her butt moves in a rhythm. …The love juice starts to fill the air with an obscene smell. My crotch is damp with her fluids, dripping down with every movement.

"…Ah, haa, ah――――no, Senpai―――i can't hold it any longer――――I can't stop my hips…!" Sakura puts her hands down on my chest. Her walls were only accepting me until now. But suddenly, it's like it was the last time.

"Kuh…!?" ―――She undulates inside. The honey pot that only accepted me until now suddenly starts to attack the foreign body.

The numerous walls surround me, entangle me, and suck on me. It's moving in a complex manner, but it still only gives me pleasure. It reminds me of a carnivorous plant, slowly digesting its prey.

"Hm, fua, ah.. mm, ah…! Ahh… this is good…!" "Sa――――kura…" Sakura's hair tosses as she moans. Her love juice helps the rubbing friction, urging to move faster.

"Kuh…!" "Ah… hm…! Amazing―――it's driving into me…!"

"―――――――, ――――" I'm pushing my hips up before I know it. Did Sakura drive me to do it, or did she start to go crazy because I started to push my hips up? We move apart and collide like magnets.

"Ah, hm, ahh…! Ahh, ahh, oh, ah, haa…!" Sakura's body shakes in response to the thrusts. She takes it with all her body, begging for me to go deeper still.

The tip hits the ceiling. The wet walls protest, but accept me, and the hundreds of walls caress the tip.

"Ah, ahh…!!! It's deep in me…! You're deep in me――――!"

"Guh――――!" The semen reaches my urethra, waiting for its release. If I can, I want to let it all out. Not only my semen, but every liquid within my body.

"Ah, ah――――" It's abnormal. She feels too good. Her body sucks on me, as if trying to devour my whole penis. The pleasure is limitless.

"Ah―――Ah, haa―――!! I can't put power in my body… Senpai, I can't stay up, ahh, haa…!"

"Sakura…!" I support my falling body with my hands. I can't bear it either. I can't bear it, but I can hold on a bit. Sakura's calling out to me, so I want to finish together.

"Ah―――I'm glad――――you're coming in――――Senpai, I'm glad, I'm glad, Senpai…!!!!" For as long as Sakura calls out to me, I'll love her. Until I break apart.

―――I push up. I ram myself into her to respond to her call.

"Haa, ahh, kuh, ah――――! Haa, it's good, please thrust it in, Senpai…!"

―――Our minds melt together. Her breasts shake with our movements. It must be because Sakura is up on her knees. Sakura is bracing herself with her legs. So she's putting strength into her sphincter, causing her walls to squeeze me harder than before.

"Ah, it's gonna rip…! Senpai, ahh, ah, hm, ahh――――!" …Sakura isn't moving anymore. I'm the one doing the thrusting. ―――I thrust so hard that I might break her.

My urge to ejaculate is already over the limit. I can't hold it back with my will anymore. It should already be over. But my ejaculation is held back. I'm not bearing it, but something's holding it back as I keep thrusting into Sakura.

"No, ha, no, ahh, no―――I'm gonna go crazy… Senpai… More, Senpai…! Ahhh, ahh, fua, haa――――!!!!"

The pleasure just keeps accumulating. The light of pleasure almost fries my brain. But I still lust for Sakura.

"Nha, haa…! More, Senpai…! Please break me more, ah, I love you, ah, you're breaking me, ah, this is like a dream, I always wanted you to embrace me, Senpai―――Senpai, Senpai, Senpai……!!!"

"Haa, ah, ah!" ―――Which one of us is broken? It feels like she's sucking up my energy.

It's similar to something…

It doesn't matter. I don't care. Sakura is the only thing I care about right now.

"Come, haa, nhaa…! Yes, ah… deeper…! Don't let me go, no, Senpai, I don't want to let go…!"

My sensations run wild. My sanity escapes into oblivion. Yes, I'm crazy. Then why not forget about things I don't want to think about: my tired body, Sakura's perverted actions, my left arm that I want to cut off――――

"Ha―――Sakura―――Sakura, Sakura, Sakura…!" Cracks run across my vision. The thing that held me back starts to disappear.

"Ahh…! Ah, haa, ha――――I'm coming, no, I'm gonna come before you…! Together―――Senpai, Senpai, come together with me――――!" "Yeah――――me too…!"

The urge to ejaculate. It's about to unload everything from the very root. "Hm, ah――――ah, Senpai――――!" I slam my cum into her pussy along with my penis.

"Ah――――hm, ah――――……"

Her walls convulse. In a trance, Sakura strokes her stomach, filled with my cum.

"……Hm…… I have to take all of it―――" How conscious is she? My cum flows out of her slit, dripping down indecently. "…Oh… No, it's flowing out…" Sakura squeezes, as if unwilling to let it go.

"――――!" My penis convulses and lets out what is left inside. …And I'm done. My penis loses its power, turns flaccid, and stops pushing apart Sakura's vagina.

"Ah……… Haa………" I somehow manage to keep my sanity while the pleasure assails me. …I push her waist and let myself out. "Oh――――it's out…" A shudder runs through her.

Sakura takes a deep breath, and… "Fuaa… I reached orgasm, Senpai――――" She falls onto my body.

――――My reasoning disappears. My energy is gone, and I released all of my magical energy.

"Ah――――!" …The power in my mind turns off. I can't think of anything. I can't recall what happened tonight, the pleasure that was only pain.

"This is just like――――" It's like it was a dream. …I fall into a deep sleep. My tired body forgets about the fact that Sakura came to this room, the uneasiness in my mind, what happened tonight, and… …I go back to the light sleep I was having an hour ago.

Interlude 11-2

――――It is in a red sea.

The familiar scenery is submerged in seawater, turning the town into an aquarium. Instead of air, something thick flows into the throat. The more it gasps for breath, the more of the heavy, watery substance it sucks in. So this has to be underwater.

It gasps out that it is painful. It originally lived on land. It cannot possibly live underwater. It tries to reach the surface, and it eventually reaches the highest place in the town. The suffocation does not abate. It looks down at the town, lungs burning from lack of oxygen, and curses the peacefully sleeping townspeople.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. There's no air here. There's no pain here. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It drags corpses behind it. Its body is bright red with blood. It hurts. It hurts. Need more. It hurts.

In its black hands are many corpses. The distorted hands grasp many dead bodies.

Need more. Need more. Need more. Need more.

It smashes them, dyeing itself red. Need more air. The air hurts. The water pressure is uncaring. The water pressure is unbearable. It smears the red blood all over its body. It probably thinks that the blood is the only watertight protection it has to live in this water.

It reaches out its twisted hands. Illuminated by the moon, the dark hand becomes a giant shadow and descends to crush the town――――

"Ah……!" She wakes up. She's breathing hard from her restless sleep. Astonished by the dream's realism, she hugs her feverish body. At that instant… Her hands are wet with blood.

"Ah, ah――――!" She shuts her eyes and pulls her hands away. …But when she looks again, they are clean. Although she knows it was just a hallucination, she can't stop trembling.

She trembles. She trembles like a broken machine. She trembles so violently that bolts might spill from her ears. All the parts in her body will spill out like that―――and the image is so frightening that she cannot stop trembling.

"――――My face. Yeah, I have to go wash my face――――" She heads to the bathroom. She makes it only a few steps. Her quaking limbs will not follow her orders. She braces herself against a desk.

"…Ah… Ah――――" Her vision wavers. She can't make it to the door. She can't even see it clearly. She can't remember what kind of a dream she was having, or why she got out of bed.

"…Ugh… Ah." She's broken. She can't remember anything. She can't think of anything. There is nothing but lust and hunger. She wants hot skin, breath, sensation, penis, semen, and kind words. Her empty but mushed-up insides plead for more sex.

"Ah――――――――uh." She lies on the desk and shakes her head. Fear and infinite self-hatred. Something is wrong. Why hasn't she had enough? A few hours ago, she was loved, just like in her fantasies, but it hasn't filled her up at all. It felt great, and she thought there could be no greater happiness, but she's not the least bit satisfied.

She's probably empty, and that's why he alone cannot fill her up. But she doesn't want anyone else. She wants to be his for much longer. She wanted it at the cost of time, emotion, and other people, so why didn't she do so? And she naturally realizes that she can eliminate all the things she just thought about.

"Oh――――" She feels dizzy. It's not so far-fetched. What's scary is that… She really thought that it would be fun.

"Ah――――uh… ugh…!" She leans on the desk. She keeps her collapsing body steady. The frightening dream becomes clearer every day. The frightening dream becomes less frightening every day. She is breaking down. Until now, it was only her body. But now, she is beginning to go mad.

"…Uh… uh, ugh." Moans escape her mouth. Her vague memory is no problem. It doesn't matter if she cannot remember what happened a few hours ago. She's not scared of being in bed forever.

She is terrified of becoming something else. She doesn't want to become a bad person. If she slowly breaks down like this, she will go crazy in the end. She will probably become something that will cause him the most trouble.

"――――――――" That's what terrifies her. It's scary to go crazy. It's more scary than anything else. If she does, he will not touch her, nor will he love her. She won't be able to be with him. She won't even know if she is with him. Not only that. If she loses her mind, he will be with another woman.

She doesn't want that. She really doesn't want that. She always thought he should be with someone else, someone better suited to him, but she can no longer accept that.

――――Because… He is already hers.

…That's why it's frightening. She's scared of what she might do.

"…Ugh――――uh, kuh――――" She knows, yet there's no salvation. She cannot tell him of this disfunction. If she tells him, it will be back to the cold for her. She cannot return to the cold now that she has known warmth. She wants to… Keep smiling at him.

But she knows what will be lost if this continues. Her wish is just a desire. She wishes for one person's happiness, yet her happiness requires the ruin of that same person.

If she cannot do so, she should just break down and disappear. If she's going to go crazy, she should disappear now and become a monster in a place with no people. That should be the best choice.

But she still clings to it. She wishes for more because it's warm and happy here. So why? Why is such a normal desire forbidden to her?

"No――――No, no, no, no…!" She shakes off her weakness. She's not envious. She's not holding any grudges. She justifies her decision, saying that she merely wants to stay here.

"No――――this isn't me." She shakes her head in denial. She shuts her dark mind with an empty head. ―――There are no happy endings. She turns her eyes away from the obvious conclusion.

"Ugh――――uhh, ugh――――" …Her hazy mind is already experiencing another nightmare. Forcing down her wish to be saved, she keeps on crying.

End of Interlude

12th Day - overdose

It's morning. My mind slowly

.

"Hm――――……" It's morning. As my mind slowly awakens, I sit up.

It's past eight o'clock. I'm late for school. Well, that's not really true since I'm not going to school, but it makes no difference to the fact that I slept in.

"Whoa. I have to make breakfast." I get up and get changed. I can't avoid looking at the cloth wrapped around my left arm.

"………All right." I swing my arm as a warm-up exercise. It's fine. It rises up to my shoulders, as I intended. It's getting better day by day. There's still no sensation, but at this rate…

"What're you doing, Shirou? Breakfast is already over." "Huh? What? What?"

Ilya is in front of me. I should be in the living room, but I'm in the shed for some reason.

"Are you listening to me, Shirou? I'm asking what you're doing here." "Y―――Yeah, I'm listening. Good morning, Ilya. What a strange place to meet up."

……Hm. That was an odd reply on my part. It seems I'm not awake yet.

"Shirou? You're not feeling well?" "Huh? Oh, no. It's just that I'm only half awake, so give me a minute." I shake my head. My body is dead tired, but my sleepiness goes away.

"――――All right. So, answering your question, I don't have any business here. I just made a stupid mistake because I was half-asleep." "I see. Then let's go to the living room! I'll prepare your breakfast." Ilya happily runs across the yard.

The sky is nice. It's bright blue, as if trying to wash away yesterday's gloomy air. I take a deep breath, and the cold, refreshing air fills my lungs.

"――――Hm? Did Ilya just say she'll make breakfast?" That's the first thing I say after I'm fully awake.

Ilya's breakfast… I'm looking forward to it, but I'm also worried at the same time. I'm pretty sure that Ilya has never even held a knife before, let alone cooked.

"Oh… I should go keep an eye on her." I run across the prickling grass to the living room. And I'm astonished once again. I must've been really out of it. What was I thinking, coming here in my bare feet?

Four minutes after Ilya… I get up on the porch after wiping my feet. "Oh, Senpai." I run into Sakura as she comes out of the living room.

"Good morning, Sakura. …I'm sorry about this morning. I overslept, and it was past eight when I noticed." "――――――――" …? Maybe she didn't hear me. She's just looking blankly at my face.

"Sakura?" I reach out, afraid that she's sick again. Then. "G-Good morning, Senpai!" Or maybe she isn't, because she greets me with lots of energy.

"Oh, you're full of energy. So I'm guessing you feel well?" "Y-Yes, I'm doing great, thanks to you. You gave me energy!"

"…?" Sakura sounds awkward. …Being energetic is a good thing, but I get uneasy seeing her so restless.

"What's wrong, Sakura? You're acting weird. First of all, what do you mean by me giving you energy?" "Um―――well, um, last night…" "In your room…" Sakura trails off, blushing furiously.

"――――――――Oh." I remember now. No, there's no way I can forget about it. Last night… I had sex with Sakura.

And it was our second time. We did it more furiously than the first time, and I lusted for Sakura's body.

"Uh――――um." Blood rushes to my head in an instant. I almost think that there's no blood left below my neck.

"S-Sakura… The thing last night…" That wasn't a dream, right? Sakura is still blushing, but she shakes her head and looks at me critically.

"…!!!!" Amazing. I thought my face couldn't get any hotter, but I guess I was wrong. …Um, last night was amazing.

Sakura's service, our animalistic sex… It was so stimulating that my mind labeled the event a dream and filed it away in the corner of my memory――――no!

"Sakura. Um… I'm sorry I was rough yesterday." Ignoring the blazing heat I feel, I apologize. "―――Okay. But I was happy, Senpai." Sakura smiles and gives a lethal reply.

"Uh――――――――um." She got me. Sakura's so cute that I want to push her down right here.

I would've lost it for real if the sound of the TV hadn't come from the living room, and… "Shirou? Breakfast's ready." …And if Ilya hadn't called for me at exactly the right time.

"S-So I'm going to go eat breakfast! I-I'll talk to you later about this!" I pivot like a robot and head to the living room. My limbs move awkwardly as I force down my desires.

"Here's your breakfast, Shirou!" Ilya hands me a plate as soon as I enter the living room. On the plate are blackened toast, a runny sunny-side up egg, and cut tomatoes.

"Oh, thanks." My head's still dizzy, but I sit down at my usual spot and start biting on the toast. I decline to comment on the toast, but the egg is done pretty well. Maybe she copied someone, or perhaps Tohsaka taught her. Anyway, I have to give her a perfect score if this is her first time cooking.

"It's good." I crunch on the toast. Ilya doesn't seem happy or proud, but simply watches me in satisfaction.

I'm not giving in to her happy mood, but I decide not to ask why the toast feels like coal. It's good. Having your toast black or hard is a matter of personal preference.

"It is a problem. You'll get sick if you eat something burned like that." "You idiot. The burned spots are the best, whether it's rice or toast." "…Hey. Are you all right, Emiya-kun?" "I'm saying it's good. And I guess doing it rough is all right." "You must really be half-asleep. This isn't time to be saying such carefree things, you know?"

Tohsaka looks at the TV. The TV is on, showing the morning news.

――――Is this deja vu? The news seems to be a story I've already seen―――and my mind sharpens up.

The captions on the screen. An incidence of unexplained comas occurred in Shinto last night. The residents lost consciousness overnight. It's being treated just like the other mysterious comas, but it's different from before. The area of the incident is 50 meters in diameter. It used to only happen in one building at a time, but the damage is spread much further now.

…And that's not the only problem. At the end of the report… Beside the triple-digit number of victims is a new list called "missing people".

"Tohsaka, this is…" "Yes. Fourteen missing people. I'm sure there'll be more once they look into it. Well, it looks like about a tenth of the people were completely swallowed."

"――――――――" My mind freezes. I unconsciously…

"Do you get it now? I don't know if this is Zouken or the shadow's doing, but it makes no difference to the fact that there are more victims now. At this rate, a whole section of the town will be swallowed in a few days."

Squeeze my left arm.

"――――Tohsaka. Are the missing people dead?" I ask to confirm. Tohsaka looks away, which is answer enough.

"…That's all. I understand how you feel, but feeling guilty can come later. Look, they're starting to do as they please because they think we can't do anything about it. They can do ridiculous things because they're taking us lightly. So I don't even need to say what we need to do, right?"

Tohsaka quietly gets up. …There's only one place she could be going. Tohsaka does not urge me to join her, but goes ahead to the dojo.

"So. First off, how's your arm doing, Shirou?" Tohsaka cuts right to the chase when I get to the dojo.

"Well, I can move it fine. But that's not what you're asking me, right?" "Right. I'm asking you if you understand Archer's arm." Ilya is watching us silently.

"――――――――" …I swear Tohsaka doesn't know what this arm is. She doesn't know about the fear I felt last night. It'll be over for me if I take this cloth off. She doesn't know my body will be destroyed if I let this arm free, let alone use it.

――――I recall the sensation. Unavoidable death. It felt like being buried alive. Utter obliteration, where the world is covered beneath something mysterious and ends in silence.

After just a glimpse of it, my mind repeated to itself in terror… That I cannot use this arm. I'll die if I use it. Without some sort of miracle, I will definitely die.

"How is it? It's been a day since I transplanted my crest, so it should be working now. Answer me. Do you know what you can do with Archer's arm?"

"――――?" …Hold on. Tohsaka's question is not exactly what I'd been expecting. I thought she wanted to know if I could use the arm.

"Um… so you're not asking me if I can suppress his arm, but if I know what his Noble Phantasm is?"

"O-Of course! It'll be terrible if you use Archer's arm, so there's no way I'm going to let you! Or what!? Were you thinking about using it!?" Oh. Tohsaka's seriously angry.

"Uh… No, but I thought that's where the conversation was going…" "What are you talking about!?"

"…Geez. Let me tell you. I forbid you to use Archer's arm, no matter the situation. And don't even consider using it without my permission. …Um, you're taking Archer's place, so it'll trouble me if you die."

"――――――――" Tohsaka's serious. …I take back what I said earlier. She knows. She's a much better magus than I am. She knows more than me about what'll happen if I free this arm.

"So, how is it? Do you understand what Archer's Noble Phantasm is?" She repeats the question. I don't know what kind of an answer Tohsaka is expecting, but… "Geez. Why don't you just tell her, Shirou? That you knew what it is since his arm has been transplanted."

"Wait, is that true, Shirou?" "Ugh―――well, I think so. Archer's Noble Phantasm is his projection magic, and it's reproducing weapons, right?"

I have a vague idea, but I can't be sure, so I'm still half in doubt.

"…I guess I didn't need to be so nervous. So, you're already connected to it. That's helpful in its own way, but why didn't you say anything, Ilya? If Shirou knew about Archer's projection magic, I didn't even need to ask him."

"You didn't ask. You're the one who wants Shirou to do projection, so it's your role to ask. It's nothing I should butt in on."

"What's that? Are you going to say we're stopping after all that preparation?"

"That's for you two to decide. You'll certainly win if you can reproduce the gem sword. That's why I gave you a hand. But I only helped you because it's my obligation. It's not because I agree with your plan."

"……?" Um… Judging by their conversation, Tohsaka wants me to project something――――

"Can I say something? So in short, you have something you want reproduced?"

"Yup. I need you to reproduce something for me. We can't match Saber or that shadow. So we have to create something in place of Servants, a Conceptual Weapon that exceeds the Servants."

"Conceptual Weapon――――? Is that the fixed magical item that executes a set phenomenon?" "Yes. It's an Outbreaker that defeats its opponent using the weight of its concept rather than physical damage. I'm going to have you project a special Conceptual Weapon that has been passed down through the Tohsaka family."

"The goal is to make something that can match Saber's Noble Phantasm. You saw Saber's Noble Phantasm that defeated Berserker, right? In terms of raw power, Saber's weapon is the strongest. I'm sure even the shadow would be destroyed by a blow from her Noble Phantasm, and we can't dodge or block it if it's used against us. Conversely, we can manage a fight if we can make a sword that exceeds Saber's Noble Phantasm, even if it's an imitation that breaks easily."

"―――――" …It's a sound argument, and a natural conclusion. If Saber's Noble Phantasm is their strongest weapon, we just need to prepare something that outperforms it. Make a weapon that is stronger than your enemy's. It's the simplest and surest way to win. But.

"…I don't know. I can't project such a strong Noble Phantasm. No, first of all, I've never succeeded at projection magic――――"

"Yes. I'm sure you've never been able to do the kind of projection that we magi are familiar with. But your projection isn't on that level. You were merely doing it wrong because you didn't know how. But you now have Archer's knowledge, so you just need to trace it. With Archer as your example, you will succeed."

"――――" Tohsaka sounds confident. But even so, I have no confidence in myself.

"Look. I've told you before, but you're a magus that uses projection, not strengthening. You might not be able to make a replica with the same power as the original, but you should get close to it if you follow Archer's theory."

"Our role is to back you up. We'll prepare the materials to be as close to the original as possible. Ilya is analyzing the blueprint that you'll be using during projection, and I'm preparing the materials that were used to make the real weapon."

"…It'll be a little longer, but it's up to you after that. If you can reproduce my master's pass, even if it's just the shape, we have a chance of victory against Zouken."

"……" Um. So they're going to prepare the blueprint and the materials, and I'm supposed to put it together? I have no problem if we can defeat Zouken that way. I'll happily go with her plan, but―――

"Let's assume I really can project this weapon. If that's the case, we won't need any materials. If you show me the original, I can copy it. We can try it right now instead of waiting for you to get ready."

"Are you stupid? If it were that simple, I would've had you try it two days ago. Look, you'll be able to project once at most, and the projected weapon is certain to have flaws. But that's meaningless. We can't have you make an imitation like the failures in the shed that look the same on the outside, but contain nothing on the inside." "…Hm. But I can only make such imitations."

"That's why we're backing you up. We're preparing materials that are as close to the real thing as possible to compensate for the required knowledge and magical energy, and have you fix it in place with your image. It's simple addition. We add your image and the materials we prepared to achieve a better result."

"…Well, I'm sure we don't need the material or the blueprint if you use Archer's arm to project it, but that's not possible. This is the only way to prepare a weapon without relying on that arm."

"So we're strengthening what's there using projection, huh? …Yeah, that does sound…" It sounds plausible, and we might be able to do it with practice.

"But I don't know if it'll succeed or not. I wasn't able to consistently use strengthening magic until I became a Master. I don't think I can do something like that on the spot." "Oh, that's all right. I'm going to have you train your projection and practice retrieving Archer's knowledge."

"…I see. That's good for me too, but you look happy, Tohsaka." "No way. I've been playing with building blocks with Ilya for a while, so I'm just thinking how refreshing it is to talk with a bad student."

"……" …Ugh. I get the chills, recalling the weird sensation from yesterday. Tohsaka got me naked, came close to me, and stuck her fingers in me.

Nothing happened then, but if we're going to do that again today…

"―――Ugh." I might get a big scolding from Sakura, resting in her room.

"So, do you get it now, with all jokes aside? I want to confirm everything one last time." "Confirm?"

"I'm asking if you're okay with this plan. We'll be relying on your projection. I won't let you use Archer's arm, but his influence will still poison you as you imitate his magic. Knowing that, are you still okay with this plan?"

"Hey, I have no complaints if we can defeat Zouken. And it's promising if you're the one training me in magic."

"…I'll be honest here. Using Archer's magic means releasing the seal on his arm. In short, I'm telling you to take off that Shroud while we're training projection."

"――――――――" My mind freezes. Take the Shroud off? Release this arm that terrified me, made me cry, and made me shake in the corner, just by loosening the cloth?

――――I don't even need to think about it. I…

[just-a-cybercroissant]

Tagged by @miss--river !

Thank you so much! <3 Rules: Shuffle music library, list 10 songs & tag people :)

🎼

1. Ironside by Quincy Jones

2. The Lonely Shepherd by Ennio Morricone

3. Warriors by Imagine Dragons

4. On the Hills of Manchuria by Ilya Shattov

5. The Last Waltz by Cho Young-Wuk

6. Blade Runner Blues by Vangelis

7. One Way Ticket by Eruption

8. My Love And… by Gaemi, Park Jung Hwan

9. Honor for All by Daniel and John Licht

10.Not Like That by Ashley Tisdale

Tagging: @bnbc @ghostoffuturespast @caffeinatedrogue @mahtsazizi @theviridianbunny

[brockachu]

You are like my source for sports news, so who do we have confirmed returning to the Canucks for the fall?

omg hey!! it is an honor to be your source, esp since i have been inconsistent af this off-season.

so, from trade deadline onward: we traded motte & hamonic. in free agency, we let go halak (nyr), justin bailey (unsigned), chiasson (unsigned), madison bowey (mtl), lammikko, highmore (stl 😭 my boi my funky boi), brad richardson (unsigned), petan (min), & rempal (vgk). [to be fair, bailey, bowey, petan, & rempal were all mostly ahl]

who we still have: (the following include the upcoming season in the how many seasons we have left of them. when i say ‘to ufa’ that means the contract takes them from being a rfa/entry contract through their ufa qualifying. any not marked ‘rfa’ or ‘to ufa’, the contract ends as ufa)

forwards: petey (2yr, bridge contract, so we’ll have rfa signing rights), brock (3yr to ufa), bo (1yr, ie he’s on a contract season & to ufa), jt (8yr, including his new extension), garland (4yr to ufa), pearson (2yr), dicky (2yr), pod (2yr, entry level, so we’ll have rfa signing rights), dowling (1yr), hoglander (1yr, rfa)

defense: huggy (5yr to ufa), oel (5yr), tymy (2yr), schenn (1yr), dermott (1 yr to rfa, so we get signing rights), burroughs (1yr to ufa), poolman (3yr), brady keeper (1yr to ufa)

goal: demmer (4yr to ufa) & spencer martin (2yr to ufa)

new signings:

ilya mikheyev (4yr, obtained in free agency), andrei kuzmenko (1yr, rfa, signed out of khl); both are forwards & noted they came over at podkolzin’s suggestion, so that may indicate a long-term commitment to pod as well

some ahl guys that we are likely to see called up:

arshdeep bains (3yr, signed out of the whl at the end of this past season, leading whl scorer for 21-22), danila klimovich (3yr, canucks 2nd round pick 2021), sheldon dries (2yr to ufa), will lockwood (1yr, rfa), jack rathbone (2yr, rfa. so help me god if he isn’t called up & doesn’t catch some injury luck this season 😭)

we also currently have 3 goalies in the ahl. god forbid we have to call them up like we did last year, but the likeliest 3rd goalie is collin delia (new signing, 1yr) bc he has the most pro experience (ahl veteran + some backup time in the nhl). the canucks & dipietro’s agents announced a month ago that dipietro is seeking a trade, he’s an rfa at the end of this season & has taken issue with his development path. silovs is still ‘could be an nhl back-up, def can handle ahl starting’, but not experienced enough + would be bad for his development to be the 3rd for call-ups. i’d put money down that unless spencer martin regresses badly, we’ll have both martin & silovs play through their contracts, see which is more affordable w/ consideration for their stats, then keep the cheaper option, but that’s 2 years down the line

and that Should be it. but lmao watch allvin & rutherford pull some joker card i couldn’t imagine 😂

[kunthug]

𝔢𝔵𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔶𝔯𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪

extracts on the lyric as form, fragments as form, form as language, form as expression

embodying in particular the lyric essay form as “a fact-hungry pursuit of solutions to problems” and also “what happens when an essay begins to behave less like an essay and more like a poem.” it can approximate the rich texture of a lyric essay or literary collage, holding together multiple layers of meaning that operate at different levels—personal, social, historical. [1]

emily dickinson too was a lyric person.

“...the fragments are then so many stones on the perimeter of a circle: I spread myself around: my whole little universe in crumbs; at the center, what?”

— Roland Barthes.

A book that is made up of fragments… There is white space, therefore.

Ghosts coming and going, adding and subtracting, rearranging the air.

—J. D’Agata

Dear Void

And what is a constellation anyway, but a shape we temporarily trace in that vast pause, a lyric of geometry we speak into an otherwise dark and uncertain space? [2]

The loose criteria for the lyric essay seems to invoke a kind of nonfiction not burdened by research or fact, yet responsible (if necessary) to sense and poetry, shrewdly allegiant to no expectations of genre other than the demands of its own subject.[3]

The lyric poem is a highly concentrated and passionate form of communication between strangers—an immediate, intense, and unsettling form of literary discourse. Reading poetry is a way of connecting—through the medium of language—more deeply with yourself even as you connect more deeply with another. The poem delivers on our spiritual lives precisely because it simultaneously gives us the gift of intimacy and interiority, privacy and participation. [4]

//

the lyric makes for romantic times.

\\

of strangeness that wakes us, ilya kaminsky

and the declarations, excesses, and realism of the lyric!!!

and as for me, doing my take on the canto, inventing the splitlectic, most recognisably achieved as the lyric/lyric essay, is negotiating with language to write as close as posible to how my body can/wants, a staying faithful to neurodivergence, the intricacies of my perceptions. words in fragments moves from just conceptual exercises of perverse-ing language to spatially represent marginal aesthetics and gestures, rhythms, other modes of expression unfettered by colonial ableist standards. numerous, many ranges, many affinities, anarchic, socialist— why, that’s the only way. that the way i use the lyric is me to the core!

more thoughts: if i am a being, the lyric is my dwelling, if i am human, the lyric is the most ideal house(& architecture). eventually, i will write a long essay that articulates everything: the lyric as a poetics of embodiment, lyric as the form that makes more sense as being trans*, and negotiating my engagement with language; the lyric as monstrous, as siren song, the lyric as disruptor, the lyric as a poetics of space, the lyric as a form that honors my neurodivergence. the lyric has the conjuring of my romantic, playful, wayward, fey and rhythmic sensibilities. the lyric as water, loose, sensuous, spirit-form. it’s all so dear and precious to me, it has been delightful to watch how this is spilling is also showing itself in the type clothing i want to wear, the art i make, this magical stitching, this muse of motion.

the lyric is a sharper way to see.

[backhurtyy]

top five favorite quotes or words? (since i know you're really good at making those things like your pinned post <3)

AHHHH OMG COREY THIS IS SO GOOD WOWOW OKAY

1. Frog and Toad, Arnold Lobel

“What did you write in the letter?”

Frog said, “I wrote, ‘Dear Toad, I am glad that you are my best friend. Your best friend, Frog.’”

“Oh,” said Toad, “that makes a very good letter.”

2. A Voice From I Don’t Know Where, Mary Oliver

And you have a person in your life whose hand you like to hold?

“Yes, I do.”

It must surely, then, be very happy down there in your heart.

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

3. atticus

he laughed,

my darling

you will never be unloved by me

you are too well tangled in my soul.

4. marina tsetaeva, translated by ilya kaminsky

A kiss on the forehead— erases misery.

I kiss your forehead.

5. The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket

I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and has happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area.

honorable mention- star wars: labyrinth of evil, james luceno

“And you, Master. What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?”

“Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.

[hockstuff]

yeah that makes sense considering the only time im on is in the morning and after work around 7:30pm which is prime time for hockey tumblr.

if you were starring in the bachelorette who would be the 12 guys with you and who would win.

i’m so sorry this has been sitting in my ask for a hot minute agshsgsh but i finally got around to answering it ahahaha

12 guys (in no particular order after #1 lol) -

tyson jost (winner) ((lol no surprise at all😮‍💨😌))

anthony beauvillier

mat barzal

carter hart

juuse saros

mathieu joseph

matthew tkachuk

brandon duhaime

nico hischier

adam beckman

jason robertson

jack hughes

honorable mentions: ilya sorokin (not included purely bc i don’t want to experience @sorokie’s wrath AHAHAHA), isles dilf line (of course), artemi panarin, joel farabee, chris kreider, matt dumba, josh anderson, alex lyon, mikko rantanen, erik johnson

thinking of 12 players was hard actually!! i knew immediately who would win (LMAO are we surprised? probably not) but besides the winner, it was hardddd but so so so fun!!!

also when i was doing this i kept thinking of players closer to my age AHAHAH but i love me my dilfs/older players so a few got a honour ale mention😌

[greensparty]

BEST MOVIES OF 2021

After movie theaters slowly began to re-open in 2020, 2021 was the year people returned to the movie theater for some blockbuster big-screen worthy releases. For me, I returned to Coolidge Corner Theatre in June and had planned on going to the movies more often, but then with the Delta variant, I stayed in. Then in November I went to Somerville Theatre for a press-only screening I was excited about. Sadly that was it for me and movie theaters in 2021. As much as I love going to the movies I didn’t feel the risk was worth it for me to go. But what I didn’t go to the movie theater for, I more than made up for watching on streaming and DVD. The top-grossing movie of the year was Spider-Man: No Way Home. Here are my picks:

Honorable Mentions:

The Tragedy of Macbeth  Joel Coen

Judas and the Black Messiah  Shaka King

Dune  Denis Villeneuve

The French Dispatch  Wes Anderson

Tick, tick…BOOM!  Lin-Manuel Miranda

10. Nobody  Ilya Naishuller

9. A Quiet Place Part II  John Krasinski

8. No Sudden Move  Steven Soderbergh

7. The Mitchells vs the Machines  Michael Rianda / Jeff Rowe

6. Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes  Junta Yamaguchi

5. The Card Counter  Paul Schrader

Schrader has made the greatest card movie since Rounders and Oscar Isaac is brilliant!

4. The Power of the Dog   Jane Campion

The family drama re-framed as a western (or is it vice versa) is riveting in the hands of Jane Campion and a highly impressive cast!

3. The Many Saints of Newark  Alan Taylor

Prequels if they are done right can still have room for some surprises. This prequel to The Sopranos showed the gang 30 years prior to the series and there were plenty of shocks and surprises that left me wanting more! And OMG – Ray Liotta!

2. Coda  Sian Heder

The family dramedy of the year truly earned every cry and feel. The entire cast (especially Emilia Jones) swung it out of the park!

1. Licorice Pizza  Paul Thomas Anderson

PTA’s heartbeat is in every single frame of this 1973-set comedy! Newcomers Cooper Hoffman and Alana Haim have made one for the best debut performances ever as a teen boy and the 20-something woman who want to take the world by storm in the San Fernando Valley. Licorice Pizza was the single best movie I saw in 2021 – hands down - and PTA is a true auteur!

[unwiltingblossom]

So it's confirmed apparently that the summer camp will have a 'horror' theme. As some people have suggested, this probably means the 'test of courage' event will feature, and this is why Sigurd and Brynhildr both feature.

Let's get this out of the way first:

Realistically, we are going to be forced to do the walk with Mash and/or the welfare, and other pairings will be decided by plot reasons.

Semi-optimistically, we'll do the walk with every single swimsuit servant, though other pairings will still end up plot relevant.

very optimistically, we'll also get to do the walk with the men in their spiffy new costumes, or we'll get to decide x number of partners out of the pool of swimsuits + costumes to walk with.

But let's be delusional for a moment and pretend the game let us have our fun.

Here’s my pick of 7 tests of courage for Ritsuka + the way they’d play out.

1 - Bedivere

Bedivere will likely not fully understand the concept of a 'test of courage' because anything by that name in Camelot would have been much more hardcore and not really fit in with the idea of 'fun things to do on vacation'.

The other knights try to get together to be scarers, and Ritsuka is determined to play it up to get him to play along (or see if he gets spooked), but Bedivere just ends up mildly confused the whole time. He obligingly protects Ritsuka from the 'ghosts' and scares, even if he's a bit flustered that she keeps grabbing his hand or arm for 'protection'.

They make it through without much incident, aside from the time Kiyo charges in and tries to burn a ghost for startling Ritsuka, and when Artoria Ruler gets too into the role of being terrifying. Bedivere ends up a bit freaked out by that last one, but he pleasantly offers to protect Ritsuka if she ever wishes to do it again.

He's so pure she feels bad about dragging him into it

2 - Emiya

Old hat at this. He's pretty smug about being experienced in it, but questions why Ritsuka would pick him instead of any of the other servants. You know what this kind of test is really for, right??

She knows, Emiya.

He's exasperated about the fact that Ritsuka is clearly just pretending to be spooked over every little thing as an excuse to cling to him, like she didn't fight monsters or do this kind of test herself before.

It all goes well until Ishtar, Parvati and Ilya get into a fight over being the next one to walk with him, and then challenge Ritsuka to take her place when the two try to break it up.

Emiya tells Ritsuka next time, rather than cause so much trouble, she can just ask if she wants to hold onto him. With an insufferable smirk.

She dies.

3 - CasGil

OF COURSE HE KNOWS WHAT THIS IS. URUK HAD THE FIRST VERSION OF THIS, ONLY THEY WERE REAL GHOSTS AND MONSTERS AND PEOPLE DIED IF THEY WERE USELESS.

It's a pointless frivolity he wouldn't waste his time with, but Ritsuka's wisdom in turning to him for protection can't go ignored. Just this once he'll do it, so be grateful.

There will be no clinging, don't even think about it. Not that there's much chance, since half the scarers get spooked by his imperious gaze before they even try to scare him, and the rest of them are immediately neutralized (could it be he's spooked by some of them? surely not)

However! He'll be sure to remind Ritsuka to enjoy the king's protection especially for her just for now, it's an honor to be the only one he's focused on and protecting and blahblah blah

Some fool thought it'd be a good idea to let Enkidu be a scarer and the whole course is basically wrecked by them 'playing around'. In the process, Ritsuka also almost gets obliterated, good job.

Rather than dying, though, she's rescued by the king and Enkidu at the same time, and after an awkward moment they agree maybe they'll continue their game another time.

The whole course is ruined by then, though, so Ritsuka just has to grab on/be carried across the chasm left by the two and be dropped off at the finish line.

Next time if Ritsuka wants the king's attention, just say so and he'll come up with something less boring to do.

4 - Lanling

He has zero clue what is happening but if his master wants him to protect her and to spend time with him!! He's there for it.

He's more often spooked than Ritsuka, but she doesn't mind at all if he grabs her hand or arm in surprise. please do, cute one.

At one time his glasses fall off on accident and stun the scarers. Medb can't help herself and attacks, intent on capturing him for herself. Somehow it feels more like Ritsuka protecting and defending the prince than the reverse, but eventually he summons his horse and the two ride the rest of the way to safety.

He's pretty bashful about his poor performance but promises if he's given another chance he'll do better, now that he understands!

5 - Romani oh-

5 - Sigurd

I was gonna have it Diarmuid, but since Sigurd is the one with the costume...

Like with many others, 'test of courage' doesn't really summon up fun for the whole family, but master is weird so whatever. It seems like a waste of time but so is going camping as a vacation, and he supposes a bit of playing around isn't too bad. Plus, now Ritsuka can try out the glasses he made her. TEAM MEGANEKIRRAN GO!! (there is a glint button on the glasses just there, yep. right. NOW POSE!)  

He's frankly a little awkward, but chivalrous nonetheless. Why are you spooked, master? Your glasses should protect you from little dragons like that!

Why are there so many dragons???

He gets into it, enjoying the challenge of fighting an increasing array of powerful dragons, even though Ritsuka is 99% sure that's not how the test is supposed to go at all.

Ritsuka is a bit haggard by the end and Sigurd is all amped up and warmed up for a good fight, glasses glinting in the moonlight. He just seems so happy, though, that it's kind of worth it? Yessirree, master was right, this was a fun time! Let's do it again!

6 - Merlin

Merlin knows the game and respects the hustle, he just doesn't get why Ritsuka would pick to go with him and not someone else (because he's dumb or at least is exceedingly good at pretending to be)

Still, he's not going to complain about walking with a cute girl, and will assure Ritsuka she can cling to him all~ she! wants~! (Ritsuka immediately wonders why she didn't decide to be a scarer instead. little magical shit, she'd dress up as fou and then throw actual fou at him)

Merlin decides to jazz up some of the scares with his illusions which end up somehow being terrifying because of this, so Ritsuka ends up startled and clinging to the smug wizard a few times anyway. Unsurprisingly, he just really wanted to nom on all that delicious emotion soup of being startled, tense, nervous, and flustered. He's shameless.

He even has the gall to chirp about how he's a knight too, and can protect Ritsuka from any danger, so she can always come running to him if she's scared of anything.

He's lucky he's cute, or she'd have Fou eat him.

7 - Amakusa

Of course, Amakusa is familiar with this game, even though he's never played it himself. He pretends he isn't, just to be difficult.

But Amakusa still has the body of a 16 year old, so Ritsuka enjoys the feeling of actually taking the test with someone of a similar age to hers (even though he isn't), and she can 'ooh' and 'aah' over his ability to exorcise spirits! If he's going to pretend he doesn't know what the game is, she's going to pretend to be spooked and grab his arm/torso/hand whenever a scare happens, just to see him flustered.

He cuts a very noble figure, and seems weirdly at home with the ghosts and stuff for...some reason...?

It's all well and good until JAlter lily comes running in spooked because she lost her partner, and he starts showing off. It's completely out of hand and somehow there's a giant ghost summoned from the mountain forest by this that he has to take care of.

He has the good grace to look a little sheepish for causing that much trouble.

It's still pretty fun for Ritsuka to walk along with Amakusa and Jalter Lily through the rest, even if he looks a little too dangerous when little JAlter gets too spooked by something and technically the test of courage is supposed to be just two people.

At the end, Jalter lily wants to do it again because she'll totally be brave this time, and Amakusa might, maybe, let on that it was fun to get to try it for once, rather than just hear about it. Plus, he got to be the hero protecting the damsels for once (even though it was trouble he caused...)

And that's the 7 trips Ritsuka took through the event that left her way more exhausted after vacation than before.

[amosnaomi]

no one asked but here are my favs of 2020, these are not ranked in order of how good they are it’s simply a list

tv shows

the untamed (if this was ranked this would be my #1 not bc it is better than the shows below (it is not) but bc it like. literally defined 70% of my year/100% of my covid experience so far)

the wire

chernobyl

the expanse

dare me

honorable mention to dawson’s creek

albums

sawayama by rina sawayama

use me by PVRIS

what’s your pleasure by jessie ware

Hadestown 

possession by joywave

books (nonfiction was def my genre of 2020)

beirut fragments by jean said makdisi

i like to watch by emily nussbaum

the queer art of failure by judith halberstam

deaf republic by ilya kaminsky

shakespeare in a divided america by james shapiro

honorable mention to in the dream house by carmen maria machado

movies

double indemnity (1944)

la haine

boys state

what the constitution means to me

the hadestown bootlegs (plural) i watched

personal things

graduated

cut my hair short-short finally

......i watched the untamed