#bitter medicine spoilers

[miatsai]

Bitter Medicine omake

otherwise known as "correct incorrect Bitter Medicine," or maybe "incorrect correct Bitter Medicine." either way, spoilers for anyone who hasn't finished, though as a person who doesn't care about spoilers, i think you can go ahead and read regardless.

Tony barges into Elle’s house on the heels of an unlocking glyph, entering as insouciantly as the wind itself. Sure, he might have a spare key, but there’s no fun in using it, nor is there any fun in ringing the doorbell like some normal person who respects boundaries. Like a cat, Tony believes he’s meant to be anywhere and everywhere. Unlike a cat, however, he won’t pee on something to mark his territory.

Before the character of 開 even fades from his fingertips, he’s met with, in order: a chokehold; a knife at his throat; and a cold-faced, dead-eyed Luc.

But Tony is prepared. Despite what his sister thinks of him, he’s not the carefree, vain playboy she believes he is. A significant amount of the time, yes, he is, but he has his life and his affairs in order, which was not a goal Elle could boast of achieving a year ago. Tony is well aware that Luc was alerted to his presence by the sound of the car pulling up the drive and by the cadence of Tony’s footsteps on the front walk. The whole manufactured situation serves multiple purposes. It’s a test of Luc’s readiness, for one thing, and maybe it’s a bit of a hazing, too, for daring to shack up with Elle, but most importantly, it’s Tony’s way of getting Luc close.

The chokehold never lands, nor does the knife. Tony exhales cheerfully as Luc stops half a centimeter away, kept from touching Tony through use of a shell glyph and a generous borrowing of Shénnóng’s qì. Luc takes a second too long to relax, and it’s that second Tony uses to flip into his second sight—no, that makes him sound like a mystic—his qì eyes—no, not that either—his Tony Vision. He scans Luc quickly from head to toe, taking note of Luc’s meridians and energy centers, making sure everything remains as put as it was when Tony had anchored those points months ago. They sometimes look like they might not stay put, which necessitates these checkups. Tony already has had to make tiny, secret adjustments, which Luc has taken as Tony being overly handsy and affectionate.

Elle is harder to fool, and Tony’s just waiting for the day when she sits him down with a pot of tea and asks, in a direct but gentle fashion, how much time Luc has left.

Tony pushes clear of Luc, whose face hasn’t yet freed itself completely from being in “destroy” mode. “You’re armed in your own house?”

Luc flicks his switchblade closed and takes a step back. “A strange, unwanted man keeps intruding. I stay vigilant.”

“She’ll leave you if you kill me.” Grant appears from behind the couch and twines himself around Tony’s legs. Tony leans down to give the orange tom a scratch.

“Don’t give me a reason to, then. Why are you here?”

“I’ve decided,” Tony says, straightening, “that the inside and outside of your house is ugly. I can’t do much about the inside yet—”

“I don’t take interior design pointers from someone who considers his own portrait the height of décor,” Luc interrupts.

“But the outside is a greige mess and that, I can fix.” Tony spreads his arms wide. “I’ve a bit of a green thumb, if I do say so myself, and some color would really enliven this place. It’s a millennial color scheme dream, which means it’s really a nightmare.”

Luc’s face, which had shifted away from murder to blatant distaste, returns to murder. “No.”

The sliding door to the backyard opens, and Elle enters, her eyes narrowed. “Tony, you have a key! Don’t tell me you broke the doorframe again with 開! I told you specifically to use 開鎖!”

“First, is that any way to greet your elder brother, and second, your doorframe is fine, and I used 開 only on the lock and not the door, so please unclench over property damage.”

“He wants to do landscaping,” Luc says. “I have said no. This is a rental.”

“And that’s my problem . . . how?” There are already plants in the backseat and trunk of Tony’s car. He doesn’t believe in asking permission, only begging forgiveness.

“Oh, no,” Elle says, lifting an ink-stained hand and covering her eyes briefly. “Tony, you can’t.”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

“Absolutely not.” Luc’s voice is fetchingly firm. Add in that accent, and it’s no wonder Elle’s done what she’s done.

“It’s too late. I’ve got my buddies in the car. I’m going to make the front of your house look like someone who gives a damn lives here.”

Elle heaves a sigh. “You might as well give up, Luc. Tony gets really weird about plants.”

“I miss my friends.” It had broken a piece of Tony’s heart to leave his plants behind in Raleigh. He’d tended some of them for over a decade. They’d been his longest relationships outside his family.

“I told you,” Elle says. “Really weird. Let him do it and see what happens.”

“You’ll have a beautiful yard, is what’s going to happen.” Tony pulls a fresh pair of gardening gloves out from his back pocket, then slaps them into his open palm. “You’ll see. This is going to be the Redfin star of the block.”

Elle takes hold of Luc’s hands, gripping them hard enough for her knuckles to show white. “You go and do that, Tony. Enjoy yourself.”

It is perhaps a little alarming how easily Elle is rolling over and showing her belly, but Tony sets the warning feeling in his gut aside. He’s doing her a favor. He’s doing himself a favor as well because he can’t stand being in places that aren’t beautiful. Somehow, even though Elle is churning out calligraphy and paintings from her chaos shack in the yard, there isn’t a single piece of hers on the walls. There probably aren’t even nail holes. Luc’s doing, no doubt.

“I’ll let you know when I’m done!” Tony says.

“I’m sure you will,” Luc mutters.

***

“My hydrangeas!” Tony wails three weeks later, standing aghast in front of Elle’s house. The driver’s-side door to his car is open. The engine is still running; the keys are swinging from the ignition. He’s probably breaking some California law against idling, but he doesn’t care.

The row of bushes he planted in front of the house is gone as if it never existed, replaced by a mulch bed. A single sphere of blue hydrangea flowers lies wilting atop it, taunting him. The reason for the multiple paper compost bags at the curb becomes stunningly clear. Clear, too, is the danger he’s presently about to be. “Luc, what the fuck!”

The curtains to the front windows are drawn slowly open, and Luc’s face appears. He unlocks the window and pushes it up, the frame screeching against itself. “I told you not to do it. Elle told you not to do it. You did it anyway. You’ve only yourself to blame.”

“Is it a crime to be beautiful?” Tony cries.

“You didn’t match the plants to others in the hydrozone, you didn’t account for the runoff, the existence of which breaks the county code, you didn’t ask permission from the landlord, and you didn’t plant according to the HOA bylaws.” Luc rattles off all the rules Tony has broken in a deadpan voice. “And you’re idling. Shut the car off.”

Tony stomps over to the car and yanks the keys out, then slams the door extra loud. “Your landlord sucks.”

“You owe me for my time, materials, and labor. I will email you an invoice.” Luc shuts the window and draws the curtains.

Tony would laugh if he weren’t so upset at the waste of living things. He’s got a love of greenery on account of growing up surrounded by wilderness. He’d talked to those hydrangeas as he’d planted them, dammit, and told them he was proud of them and everything. He might have also added a little bit of magic to speed them along their way. Last week, orbs of pink and green and white and blue had greeted him, making Elle’s house the prettiest on the block. This week, it’s back to being a house only HGTV and gentrifiers could love.

His phone buzzes with a text. Tony fishes it out, staring at the screen as he realizes the text is from Elle. I’m sorry, it reads. You do kind of owe Luc, though.

“Owe him for what?” Tony hollers at the windows.

A moment later, his phone buzzes again. He didn’t say anything when our landlord sent a nastygram. He didn’t say anything when the HOA showed up at the door. He covered for you and said he’d take out the plamts

The phone buzzes again. Plants*

It buzzes a fourth time. I think that’s worth a thank you, don’t you? He’s jock about the invoice.

And a fifth time. Jocking

Buzz number six. Not jocking! Joking! I hate autocorrect!

Tony texts back furiously. You can turn that shit off you know. and thanks i guess for not snitching. i won’t charge you for the plants and labor and luc can not charge me for his labor and we’ll call it even

The curtain is pushed aside, and Luc opens the window again. “It is not even.”

Elle opens the door, though in reality, she opens it, Luc shuts it, and she opens it again. “It’s even. Mulch is not that expensive and Luc had a great time ruining your day, except for the part where he stank. Come in, Tony. Want some tea?”

Of course Tony wants tea that he doesn’t have to make. He hides a smile as he thinks about Luc smelling like mulch. He was probably in hell, that fastidious asshole. “No one can snitch on me if I handle the interior, right?”

The last thing Tony sees is Luc’s glare in the magical California sunlight before the door slams shut.

[ghostlyanon]

short compilation of known hyv characters that have Annie remain wary of doctors

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Rough Relationship Timeline with Zayne based on his Memories

This is just my observation. Not All Memories are included. May Contain Spoilers for those who just started the game. I maybe wrong in some parts as nothing on this blog is confirmed by Infold PTE LTD.

Pre - Relationship Stage

Sweet Conspiracy

The awkwardness is a bit heavy here. They still do not know how to talk to each other and M/C learning about Zayne having a sweet tooth.

She doesn't know how to return his jacket but does not want to leave it at the hospital's reception. Probably a good choice. Who knows? Some nurse might just stole that jacket away. ;)

M/C knows he is in a medical conference but doesn't know when he'll be back. So they are not communicating well yet. Maybe just a few convo here and there when she's in for check up.

But my favorite part is when M/C indirectly say that she wants to see Zayne outside of the hospital by saying "You'll call me so I can get my candies back when I'm free.. And we'll see each other again"

This memory clearly shows who M/C is really interested to. She wants to see him again and even if it's awkward with him when they just saw each other again, she is clearly interested.

Glittering Lights

Zayne's paying attention to M/C's emotion and monitoring her in Social media. This thought alone clearly shows that Zayne is already particularly keeping an eye on her since they met again in the hospital.

They are also not fully acquitted yet which is why M/C is quite unsure to start conversations with him. But it shows how Zayne is trying to learn little things about her. He is not yet familiar with what she likes hence him asking her americano or latte.

They have a connection. When they are trying to find each other when they got separated during Zayne's sudden phone call, even M/C felt it. It's like they both felt that they are looking for each other and their eyes met.

And the most obvious clue that they are not yet an item, is that awkward goodbye wave. But it's cute because they are expecting more.

Gentle Twilight

This was the first time Zayne ask M/C to go with him as a mutual support agreement in doing things to make them relax. Why I think so? They never expect to see each other in the library and when he thinks M/C is going to refuse hiking with him, he grabs a book about medicine to ensure that she will come with him.

They still not keeping tabs on each other directly.

M/C calling Zayne as "Dr. Zayne" seems professional rather than teasing.

Please remember hiking and pottery lessons.

Neon Nights

She refers to Zayne as a friend and they just keep bumping to each other.

Zayne is clearly jealous that M/C buying a gift for someone. He's actually quite bitter.. hehehehe

Isn't it amazing that even they disagree and not in a relationship at this time, they are perfectly in sync and fight wonderfully together. Which is why they are great together.

Delicacy

Well M/C thinking Zayne needs to correct his classmates when they said she is his girlfriend.

They are already more acquitted in this as they already agreed on meeting up and they are learning new and more things about each other.

M/C is also picking up Zayne's habits and likes as she know he likes the food there.

Zayne is comfortable in introducing her already.

Zayne's also indirectly confess to her here. (I want to strangle Astra if you know what I mean!)

In a Relationship Stage

Tranquil Heart

This may not be a solid proof, but I think they started their relationship right after this memory.

Although it came out as a friendly banter between them, Zayne is clearly upset that he was not taking care of herself more. Not to mention being caught sneaking out at the hospital at the dead of the night.

But this is where the last line of the memory played out for the start of their relationship. Zayne again indirectly confess to her by saying "That he can't ignore you even if he wants to."

This line is so strong in so many levels. 1, it can imply on Foreseer seeing M/C again. He has a choice to either move on from her but he chose to stay and dedicate his life for her.

2 if he made a promise to her as a kid, it is forgivable if he forgot to help her with her sickness. But from then on he just simply existed for her. I still got chills thinking of what have Zayne must have felt when he first hug and kiss M/C.

Tranquil Moment

I think this is their early relationship stage because M/C is more familiar with Zayne's schedule now and she is seeing him to have dinner dates.

They are planning a dates and doing small things like making snow man and watching the snow. This simple things are one of the sweetest things as they mark the beginning of their relationship.

Drunken Intimacy/ Exclusive Tutorial

He is bringing her to events and showing her to classmates and colleagues. He is definitely showing her off and proud of her being a hunter.

He is being territorial. He warns M/C not to visit other doctors and keep close to her when someone wants to talk to her.

Spring Remnants

They are doing charity events together.

Notice how Zayne takes the box from M/C? This is not just him being gentleman because the next thing he say is "Allow me" referring to taking the box from her and the "Go register first" meaning M/C and Zayne are close enough for M/C knowing his details.

Zayne holding her hands.

At the end, Zayne says "Let's enjoy Spring together from now on" indicating they indeed start dating and Zayne wanting for them celebrate spring as a couple moving forward.

Starry Nocturne

I usually refrain from talking about this memory. Not only of it's heavy emotional content, but I can clearly feel the exhaustion and fear from Zayne.

If observe closely, you can see how they understand each other without a word. Zayne just looks at M/C and she already understood. The gesture is so intimate yet so wholesome.

They way they understood each other and the way she comforts him. M/C might have know that the exhaustion and fear comes with the thought of her in his mind.

Its given that they are already together but Zayne is still in a race against time. He might be busy with patients but all this effort as we know is to find a permanent cure for M/C. He works tirelessly for her. To not lose her again. And this brings me to one of the things that may be difficult to swallow for everyone.

While Xavier and Rafayel are still tied to their memory of M/C in their previous lifetime, Zayne is the only one leaving the past behind, embracing the present, and was fighting for a future with M/C. Words are not enough to express how deep and far his love could go and this is exactly why I love Zayne so much.

The Next Level Stage

Ramblings Come True

AGAIN, Although I cannot say this is a solid evidence, but when Zayne says "I was... referring to something you wouldn't regret" It was like he is asking for her if she is ready to take their relationship to the next stage and she agree by saying when she gets better. (M/C have a cold)

Fleeting Sweetness/Cozy Afternoon

M/C was able to enter Zayne's home while he was sleeping. Meaning she already have the keys to his home solidifying the fact that they are indeed in a relationship. I know mostly Japanese are more symbolic at this its like giving someone more

They are sleeping on the same bed on his house or at her place. M/C buying him him a pajama set.

They instinctively and freely touching each other. Be it holding hands or hugging.

Lingering Warmth/End of Depth/Heartstring Symphony/Business Trip/Snowy Serenity/Hidden Motive.

Do I actually need to explain this? hehehehe It's really obvious so I'll leave it there.

Final Thoughts

Zayne and M/C have a steady and strong bond when it comes to relationship. They might have tiptoed around it by not saying a direct "I Love You", but they live and breath for each other.

Isn't cute that they find a way to saying their true feelings by saying "The Moon is Beautiful"?

Thank you Infold for bring Zayne to us. If may just a game for other, but Zayne is my comfort zone. Having him is like having something that will be forever consistent in my life.

[missaengg]

Because I Love You...

Pairing: Caleb x f!reader Tags: spoilers for Caleb's main route, angst, mention of drugging, yandere Caleb if you squint Word Count: 851 He'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means becoming the villain in your story. Because he loves you… A/N: Inspired by Homecoming 1-10: Heart's Crossing. Also, I play in Korean so I used oppa instead of gege!

The pills don’t take long to work.

Caleb watches you sleep from the threshold of his – now your – bedroom.

You look serene, lying there asleep in his bed.

Caleb crosses the room, the click of his boots echoing in the silence. Turning down the light, he sighs. It’s just like you to leave it on before going to bed, though he knows why you did – why he had to resort to this.

He sits beside you and pulls the blanket higher on your shoulder, as if it’s something he’s done many times before. On impulse, Caleb starts to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, but hesitates at the last moment, taking your hand instead. He cradles it gently, noting how small and delicate it feels in his large, calloused palm.

“If I kept you here with me like this… Would you think I’m being too selfish?”

He doesn’t hide the longing he feels in his voice. Caleb brings your hand to his forehead, desperate to quell the ache gouging his chest and the regret choking all the air out of his lungs.

“But it’s only us now.”

Caleb closes his eyes, nuzzling your fingers against his brow. He lingers for a moment, a fleeting respite before he returns to selling his soul. He’s not sure what he hopes to find in your touch – comfort or strength? Or, he muses, perhaps what he truly hopes to find is your forgiveness.

Caleb scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping him, laced with self-loathing. He hates who he’s become. He hates that protecting you has led him to this, even though it was necessary.

It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable. He knows that you can handle yourself, that you’re brave and tough. But sometimes you can be so foolish and naive, it terrifies him. It shakes him to his core to know that one day, you might not make it home.

It was wrong to trick you, to pretend those sleeping pills were cold medicine. He knows, but he tried to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen. You never listened.

His foolish, headstrong princess, always running into danger without thinking of the consequences, without thinking of yourself.

He always knows when you’re lying to him. He knew when you were lying to him as a child. He knows you’re lying to him now. Like the night Viper dared to come after you, and the night you asked to meet classmates for dinner and a movie, even before he discovered your gun.

He knows you so well, that if left up to your own devices, you’d do that same reckless thing you always do – charge into a dangerous situation without a second thought, even as fever weakened your body.

It kills him to lie to you, to keep secrets, to make promises he can’t fully keep, but the truth would only hurt you. His only wish is for your happiness – a life free of pain, full of laughter and light, while you wear that brilliant smile he loves.

He lowers your joined hands from his forehead, his gaze falling on your sleeping form.

“Let’s say I had noticed these threats that were lurking around you earlier…” He narrows his eyes, anger flashing in their galaxy-colored depths. “Knowing then what I know now… none of this would’ve happened. Right?”

Beneath the storm in his gaze lies a fierce resolution.

I’ll protect you with everything I have, until my last breath. I won’t let Ever touch you. I’ll do whatever it takes – even if it means becoming a villain in your story.

A notification pops up on his wrist communicator, casting an eerie glow in the dark room.

Cleanup operations begin shortly. Awaiting Colonel’s orders.

Caleb scans the message quickly, furrowing his brow. It vanishes when he flicks his wrist. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, then turns his focus back to you, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. With a rueful smile, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

I’m sorry…

I’m sorry I’m not the same Caleb you once knew…

I’m sorry I’m not content with just being your oppa anymore, that I want to be something more…

As your warmth lingers on his lips, Caleb makes a vow you’ll never know.

“Don’t worry. This nightmare will come to an end. I promise.”

Caleb brushes his lips against your fingers one last time before gently placing your hand back on the bed, fighting every urge to stay by your side. He stands abruptly, straightening his back and pulls on his cap in a manner befitting that of a Farspace Fleet Colonel. As he exits the room, a steely resolve burns in his cold, amethyst eyes.

He feels the distance between you grow with every step. He’s acutely aware that every decision he’s made and will make, every lie, every secret, will only push you further away, widening the chasm until he’s so far gone, he no longer deserves a place by your side.

But it’ll all be worth it, as long as you’re safe…

Because I love you…

Tag List: @william-rex

[mydadleft471]

Carian Tea And Bitter Medicine

Summary: You've fallen ill and Messmer is deeply worried for his wife. Over the coming days, you slowly recover.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings other than talk of throwing up. (yuck)

This was a request from @writing-fanics! I'll link it here if you want to see the post. This was super fun! I love writing for the red-haired snake man (clearly that's literally all my blog is lmao). Thank you for requesting and I hope I did it justice!

As always, thank you all so much for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! It means the world to me and I'm so happy I've gotten back into writing!

Messmer had barely left your side for the few days. He was worried sick. No matter how much his servants and healers told him you’d be alright with some rest and medicine, he couldn’t seem to believe them. He thought you were dying, and he could only sit idly by while you suffered. Watching you writhe felt like a stab wound, searing and sharp, right to his chest.

You, his darling wife, looked terrible. A sheen of sweat covered your body even in your lightest nightgown, yet you stayed wrapped in blankets. Chills would wrack your body one minute, and the next you’d be pushing at the blankets because you were overheating. You’d refused almost all food except for a light broth, though it still threatened to come back up. Water wasn’t any easier, and your condition had seemingly gotten worse. Your skin was pale and your eyes didn’t shine like they usually did.

Messmer tried to keep himself busy to drive away the thoughts that plagued his mind. He’d fetch you a cold washcloth and lay it delicately over your forehead, or help you sit up when you’d request a drink of water. You were too weak to lift anything, so he’d carefully tip the glass back enough for you to take small sips.

You’d been confined to the bed for five days due to your sickness. Each morning he’d wake and hope to see you better and healthy once more, but it hadn’t happened yet.

He didn’t sleep well last night, jolting awake in response to any sound you’d make. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he saw you trying to sit up. He hurried to your side immediately, helping you.

“What bothers thee, wife?”

“I just wanted some water. I didn’t want to wake you. I know you haven’t been sleeping much these past few days.” You croak out.

“It bothers me little,” he says while moving to fetch you a glass of cool water. “How dost thou feel this morning?”

“I’m actually hungry, so I’d assume that’s good.”

“I am so very happy to hear that, beloved. Whatever thou wishest for, it shall be done.” He smiles for the first time in days.

“Right now,” you gesture towards him, “I’d love some water.”

He sits beside you on the bed and moves it towards your lips. Your hand finds his and, though shaky, you help tilt the glass back. After a few sips, you tap his wrist and he returns the glass to your bedside table.

“Thank you, husband.” You shoot him a weak smile and his stomach flips. Marriage did little to dull the butterflies you gave him.

“What dost thou desire for breakfast?”

“I don’t mind, really. If we have any left, I’d love to have some of that delicious spiced Carian tea Rellana gifted to us.”

“Of course, beloved.” He gently guides you to lay back down. One of his serpents nips at the blanket and brings it over you. You pat its head in thanks.

“Wilt thou be alright for a short while?” His heart twists uncomfortably thinking about leaving you alone, even if it is just to request food for you.

“Yes, my love. You never stay away for very long.” 

“It pains me to leave thee.”

You grab his hand and squeeze weakly.

“I know. But I’m hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach growls.

“I shall return shortly, my wife.” He kisses your forehead and makes his way towards the door.

Outside, he’s pleased to see a dozen of his most trusted knights. When you fell ill, he ensured you’d be safe from any outside threats. His men were fiercely loyal to both him and his beloved wife.

Noticing the creaking of the door, Fire Knight Salza bowed in greeting.

“How is our Lady, my Lord?”

“She is slowly recovering, though still sick.”

“Shall I send for a servant to bring her food?”

“Yes. She’s requested Rellana’s specialty Carian tea.”

“Ah, a personal favorite of mine. I’ll see her desire fulfilled, my Lord.”

Messmer nods and returns to you, shutting the door swiftly. You’re still laying down on the bed, the covers pulled over you. He sits on the bed and smooths a few rebellious strands of hair down.

“I probably look awful.”

“Never.”

You roll your eyes. “You always were a poor liar, Messmer.”

“I shall never utter a word of disgust or mocking towards thee, beloved.” Even like this, you were beautiful to him.

“I know.” You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and he moves forward, sighing into your touch.

“If I must describe thee, I would say thou lookest sick. Nothing more.”

“How sweet of you. I’m sure if I looked in a mirror, it would shatter.”

“Nonsense.” He kisses your knuckle. “I shall hear these false notions no longer.”

“Fine. But I could probably use a bath.”

“If that is thine desire.”

“Only if you bathe me.” You playfully wink at him. His face reddens.

“Dost thou know no decency?”

“No,” you reply, giggling. “Not around you, at least.”

A sudden knock at the door distracts him. He releases your hand and rises from the bed.

“Enter.” His voice sounds so different when he speaks to anyone but you.

A servant comes in with a small tray of food. They gently set it down on the table beside you and bow to you both before leaving as quickly as they came.

You push yourself to sit up. Messmer moves to help you, but you refuse and slowly get up on your own. He shakes his head at your stubbornness, but he’s happy to see you regaining some strength. Just yesterday you could barely lift your head.

You look over the tray of food and see a bowl of steaming broth with some noodles, a vial of medicine, and your Carian tea. Messmer brings the tray closer to you and you move to pick up the bowl of soup. You feel the worry radiating off of him at the prospect of you burning yourself.

“I’m alright, my love. Just a little weak.” 

You take an experimental sip of your broth and nausea doesn’t immediately make you want to spit it out. Pleased, you continue to take small sips and bites. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, and soon, the bowl is empty. Messmer looks ecstatic that you’ve managed to eat something. 

“How dost thou feel?”

“Fine, actually. Can I have my tea?”

“Medicine first, beloved.”

“Yes, sir.” You tease. He bites his tongue and gives you a look.

He grabs the small vial and takes the cork off. It smells horrible.

“Tell me, does this concoction taste as badly as it smells?” His nose crinkles in disgust and his serpents hiss and recoil.

“Unfortunately.” Taking the vial and tilting your head back, you pour it all into your mouth at once and swallow as quickly as you can. The bitterness coats your tongue and almost burns. You will yourself to not gag and your face scrunches up in displeasure. You can’t wait until you’re better so you no longer have to taste this.

You gesture towards your tea and Messmer hands it to you. You drink some and the bitter taste of medicine slowly recedes to a soothing spice on your tongue. 

“Would you like some?” You gesture towards the tea.

“No, beloved. I would not steal thy favorite tea from thee.”

“You can steal my medicine.” You smile at him from behind your cup.

“I wouldst rather drown.” You laugh.

“Me too.”

“Thou art braver than I.” He refers to your medicine. He places the empty bottle back on the tray and his serpents eye it warily.

You finish your tea and set it down with the rest of your dishes. Messmer moves the tray back to the table for a servant to take away later. He smiles, happy that you’ve finished everything brought to you today. You seemed to be getting better, and for that, he was grateful. Some color had returned to your smooth skin and your eyes seemed more alert.

“Would you come hold me?” You shoot him a pleading glance.

“Thou knowest my weakness, wife. I shall never say no to thee.”

“You just did.” He gently scoots into bed beside you.

“Hmm?” He tilts his head.

“You said you wouldn’t steal my tea. You technically said no to me.” You pout.

He shakes his head, drawing you closer in his arms. His serpents wind protectively over you and you sigh, content.

“I am afraid thou art taking mine words too literally.”

“Maybe.” You mumble into his chest.

“Sleep. Exhaustion clings to thee.” He strokes your hair.

He expects a response from you, and a witty one at that. Perhaps something about how he’s confusing exhaustion for not bathing regularly. But he looks down and you’re fast asleep, tucked into him. He wonders if the Carian tea puts one to sleep. If so, he needs to have a plentiful supply.

His darling wife is getting better, and it did not even require him to pray to Mother. He will dwell on the implications of that later.

[assumptionprime]

I need to rant about the Fallout show

Because this is the person I am. Full spoilers, so I’m putting it behind a Keep Reading:

I’m a huge sucker for Fallout (yes even 3&4). And I went into the Fallout show with some… trepidation. Amazon has been a mixed bag on adaptations, we could have been blessed with a Good Omens, or cursed by a Rings of Power. But early buzz and reviews seemed positive, so I slammed the whole thing in one night with my spouse (we were staying at my in-laws house and they have Prime. Time was a factor.)

And y’know? I was really enjoying it! The characters were fun, the plot was engaging enough, and the costumes and visual design were extremely on point. There were some minor lore quibbles to be had: Ghouls needing some kind of medicine to not go feral. Really, more Enclave holdouts? Timeline and date whoopsies. Wait are they in California? Where the hell is the NCR?

I made a face at Shady Sands being bombed and the NCR collapsing. But I wasn’t completely out of the story. Based on what I had seen so far, I thought it was building to a reveal that the Brotherhood had done it. That the more zealous turn they took in Fallout 4, which has clearly carried to how they are portrayed in the show, lead them to bombing the NCR. War never changes, as they say. Maximus even says when asked what happened to Shady Sands: “The same thing that always happens.” Yeah, it leans into Bethesda’s weird desire to keep the Fallout world in a state of perpetual wastelands full of raiders and no civilization, but it wasn’t so terrible that I couldn’t still enjoy the show.

But then.

BUT THEN.

Episode 8, and the reveal of Vault-Tec apparently being the ones who dropped the first bomb in the Great War.

I was surprised to hear that some fans have apparently been debating over who fired first? Some even asked Tim Cain about it?

That’s really odd to me because, in the games, there is already a pretty definitive answer to which side sparked the Great War:

Who fucking cares?

The world ended. What does it matter who shot first?

There is no China, no United States, no communists or capitalists left to fight about it. 

It's a powerful little bit of lore.

For all the posturing, all the promises from each nation that their way is the true way, all the nationalism, the militarism, and blind loyalty to flags over humanity, they both lost. Everyone lost. All that remains of the ideologies and nations that were so important to the people of 2077 is faint echoes over vast expanses of radioactive ash.

Who started the end?

No one knows. No one cares.

It only matters that their conflict was so bitter, so all-consuming, that one of them dropped their bombs, and the other dropped theirs in return.

The truest legacy of the old world is the devastation left by their final, most horrific war.

Can we do better?

Then the show says "Nah, Vault-Tec did it. It's not a commentary on human nature and the futility of self-destructive conflict, it was actually these guys, these mustache twirling villains huddled in a darkened room literally plotting to end the whole world so they can rule what's left."

And I can see the attempt to make this a critique of capitalism. I actually paused the show to praise a bit of writing when Coop is talking with Charlie before the war, when Charlie tells him that the “cattle ranchers are in charge” to illustrate how capitalism and corporations hold too much sway over the government, it felt very in line with how in New Vegas one of the recurring critiques of the NCR is that all the real power is in the hands of the “brahmin barons.” Nice parallel, spot on!

But “we’ll set off total thermonuclear war so we can rule the ashes and have a True Monopoly” isn’t capitalism. It’s just dumb “we’re the baddies” writing.

And then Shady Sands was also Vault-Tec?! Forget any meaning in the NCR falling to the same corruption and/or factional fighting that consumed the old world, they were literally just bombed by the evil shadow conspiracy that apparently also killed the old world. Hank gives this speech about factions fighting and the futility of it all while we see the Brotherhood fighting Moldaver’s NCR remnant, and like, no! You can’t say that when you’ve made it so neither the old world or the NCR fell to war with another faction! It was you! You and your band of cryogenic supervillains!

I don't care that they changed it. Timelines and dates and little retcons don’t bother me all that much. I care that they changed it to something so much worse.

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Bubble Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[Part 1]

The date starts with MC impatiently waiting out in the corridor for Kiro to return home.

Apparently, while filming, the wire to which Kiro was attached to accidentally broke. Fortunately, Kiro had only just been lifted into the air, so all he did was sprain his left leg and receive a few minor scratches. So the crew gave him two weeks off to return to Loveland to go through some rest and rehabilitation.

After a few more minutes of waiting, an elevator arrives at the floor and both Kiro and Savin step out, with Savin busy supporting Kiro. It doesn't take long for Kiro to notice her.

Kiro: Miss Chips, I'm back~

My anxious heart finally settles down. Watching him attempt to take a step towards me, prompts me to step forward and grab onto his arm.

MC: Walk slowly!

With a small "hmm", Kiro takes me into his arms.

Kiro: It's not as serious as you make it out to be. I did an emergency roll when I landed, so it cushioned a lot of the impact.

Kiro: Quite the reaction time, don'tcha think?

Joking in a lighthearted tone, Kiro casually winks at me, as if this really is something not worth worrying about.

Savin frowns and sighs.

Savin: Don't be so stubborn. When I got to the emergency room, your costume was completely drenched in cold sweat.

Savin: MC, let's help him sit down first.

Kiro: .....

Both MC and Savin take Kiro to the living room and he reluctantly lets them, seating himself on the sofa.

After placing a small bag of topical medicine on the table and explaining the dressing change process several times, Savin leaves.

In the silence of the room, MC unbandages Kiro's wound and finds that the skin on his ankle is bruised and swollen, with the wound slightly turned outward.

I purse my lips in anguish, take the medicine out of the bag, and hear Kiro speak in a low voice.

Kiro: I'll do it myself. It just looks bad, but it doesn't really hurt that much.

MC: Come on, if it's as simple as you say, the crew wouldn't have given you so many days off.

I mutter to myself as I watch him skillfully roll up his trouser and squeeze the ointment onto the cotton swab.

When the brown-black ointment touches the wound, his ankle trembles almost imperceptibly, but his tone remains brisk.

Kiro: ...I'm not going to lie to you, I don't have any problems with walking. I'm just a little slower than usual.

Kiro: I guarantee I'll be recovered within the week.

I helplessly look up and gaze into his bright eyes.

MC: Obviously you're the one who's hurt, so why are you comforting me?

Kiro: Well... Because I know you're worried about me.

His sly eyes reveal the comfort of being loved, and he raises his hand to prod the corner of my pursed lips.

Kiro: I haven't seen you for the three weeks and two days that I've been filming on set.

Kiro: Now that we are finally reunited, I don't want to see you always in tears, with that constant worried look on your face.

As he says this, his eyes stare at me without blinking, as if afraid that I wouldn't be able to hold back my tears.

Kiro, this idiot...

Bitterness and warmth blend together in my heart. I breathe silently, suppressing my sadness, and try to raise my lips.

MC: Since it's a request from the wounded, I accept.

Kiro: Hmm? If I have something else I want to do, will you agree to that as well?

MC: Certainly.

Kiro: Then I'll have to think about it carefully...

Kiro says in all seriousness, his eyes incidentally sweeping across a corner of the living room, and his voice pauses.

Kiro: Why is your suitcase... are you going somewhere?

I dismissively say "Oh" and unroll a few new bandages.

MC: Do you still remember that popular TV show "The Sound of Rain"?

Kiro: Yep. Even though we hadn't doubled the speed, we still managed to watch six episodes in one night.

MC: Well, the screenwriter for that show is hosting a script writing training session and has invited many veterans from the industry.

MC: I had previously signed up for it and was supposed to leave tomorrow morning.

Kiro nods as he scrolls through the tab, his voice rising a few notes.

Kiro: That's awesome; a director who has won a Best Feature Film Award and many other experts from the Film Academy coming together to exchange ideas...

MC: I'll ask them to cancel my participation in a moment!

Our voices simultaneously intertwine.

The air stills for a moment. Kiro parts his lips, as if wanting to say something, but comes up empty-handed.

I don't ask any further questions, but carefully wrap the bandage around his ankle a few times before speaking in a light-hearted tone.

MC: Don't think too much about it. I hadn't submitted the final confirmation receipt yet and was still thinking about it.

MC: And this isn't the only time I'll get such an opportunity. Perhaps I'll even be able to meet even more important guests next time~

Kiro: ......

Kiro's eyes flicker for a moment, and he quickly nods. Then he turns sideways and picks up his phone from his bag, frowning a bit.

Kiro: ...Is my battery dead already? I still haven't told the director that I'm okay yet.

Kiro: Miss Chips, could I borrow your phone?

MC: Just take it.

I stand up and move to put the medicine away. A moment later, I hear the person behind me give a satisfied hum and uncapping the bottle of juice from the table.

MC: You told him so quickly?

As I say this, I turn around and watch him calmly hand me the phone.

Before the screen went dark, I caught the words "Confirmed attendance" show up on the training course's login page.

I am left slightly stunned, but eventually understand his unspoken thoughts.

The sound of tiny bubbles in the carbonated drink bursting in the air is akin to my complex and delicate emotions at the moment, causing my throat to close up.

MC: Kiro, I...

Just as I'm about to speak after organising my words, I feel a warm sensation on my wrist.

Kiro places his drink aside, lifts up my hand, and presses it against his cheek, caressing it with a smile.

Kiro: Didn't you say that you would agree to all the requests of the wounded?

Kiro: MC, seize this opportunity and participate with confidence.

Kiro: The next time we meet, I will have fully recovered.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[Part 2]

MC: ...The physiotherapist is supposed to come home every day to help you with rehab. If you feel uncomfortable, don't force yourself to do it and ask him to adjust the training intensity.

MC: I've kept the medicine on the bedside table. The note in the bag has the dosage and frequency written on it; and...

My list of instructions are like pebbles, causing the person on the other end of the line to laugh.

Kiro: Mm, you reminded me several times last night, and my memory is pretty reliable, y'know.

Kiro: Hurry up and get on the plane. I can hear your name being called over the intercom.

I reluctantly hang up the phone, hand over the ticket to the flight attendant, and walk onto the corridor.

After some time, MC's plane takes off. As she's about to reach the city, she overhears a couple of flight attendants whispering amongst themselves about some traditional chinese ointment that relieves pain.

When MC is about disembark from the plane, she asks the flight attendant to give her details as to where she can buy the ointment that they mentioned.

The flight attendant writes down the address on a piece of note paper and hands it to her.

After exiting the terminal, MC pays a visit to the pharmacy and sends the medicine back home, after which she texts Kiro about it.

However, she receives no reply. When she decides to call him, no one picks up the phone, and then MC immediately starts to get worried.

MC: ......

I purse my lips, and a terrible inkling suddenly passes through my heart.

The physiotherapist would be arriving to train him at any moment now, and since Kiro is aware of the time, it's impossible that he'd still be sleeping.

Then why...? Did he get into some trouble? Did he fall down?

Several news reports on "accidental injuries while living alone at home" flash through my mind. I decide to give Savin a call and ask him to come over to take a look.

But just as I am about to anxiously open my call logs, I suddenly think of something.

Some time back, I had installed several cameras at home to keep an eye on Apple Box and Cello... At the moment, this should be our fastest solution.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I uneasily open the app. A circle on the interface rotates for a moment, and several windows pop up.

The living room, kitchen, entrance hall... all are found empty. I scroll down, and my fingertips suddenly stop.

In the steamy bathroom, Kiro lazily lounges in the bathtub, his handsome eyes revealing a hint of relaxation.

Seemingly a little bored, he casually scoops up a handful of bubbles from the bathtub, his long legs casually draped over the edge.

MC: [blushing] .....

My heartbeat quickens. Just as I'm about to close the app after making sure that he's safe, I see him turn his head and whisper something to Apple Box as he walks by.

Kiro: ...Are you thinking about her too?

Kiro: But there are still two weeks till that course ends.

Apple Box whimpers coquettishly, and Kiro lets out a soft laugh.

The sound of it enters my ears through the receiver, causing them to itch for some unknown reason. I also find the rate of my heart starting to race.

I suppress the heat that starts to overwhelm my face, and continue listening as he speaks.

Kiro: Are you asking me?...I don’t know what she is doing now either.

Kiro: It would've been nice if we could put a small camera on top of her head.

Kiro: That way, no matter where the other person is, you'd always be able to see them when you miss them.

The few bubbles on his cheeks burst and are brushed away. Crystal clear drops of water trickle down his forearm.

He straightens up as if he couldn't care less, and lets the outline of his chest bathe under the wet sunlight.

Kiro: Isn't that right, Miss Chips?

As he speaks, he blinks at the camera and blows up some foam in his hand.

The floating bubbles shimmer, displaying a rainbow of colors, like a light dream, each of which reflects the contours of his figure.

MC: [blushing] ....!

My ears flush and I quickly close the app. Only then do I realize that he must have noticed that I had the camera turned on.

The beat of my heart is akin to bubbles, popping and restless.

With a ding, the sound of a notification on my phone suddenly chimes in. I take a glance at it and the temperature of my cheeks rises again.

Kiro: I didn't have my phone with me just now. Don't worry, MC, I'll make sure to sign for it.

Kiro: PS: I had all the cameras at home cleaned carefully. You're welcome to open them at any time.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[Part 3]

In-depth reading of scripts, story analysis, film history... After days of reading, my notes get thicker and thicker.

After finishing up another day of classes, I return to my room with a heavy heart. I sit at the table and flip through my notes, but am unable to write anything.

At that moment, an invite for a video call from Kiro suddenly pops up on my phone.

-[On video call]-

Kiro sits on the floor, holding Cello's paw and waving it at me.

Kiro: Cello is here to say good evening! Please accept this late night greeting~

Concealing my feelings, I smile and tap the screen.

MC: ....Accepted. Then Cello, please tell me, has the person next to you been resting well?

Kiro puts his ear close to Cello and nods seriously amidst the meowing.

Kiro: It said that Kiro's been living a very regular life recently and his health is recovering quickly.

Kiro: After doing a few more sets of movements, today's rehab training will be over~

MC: [worried] Why do I feel like the amount of training has been increasing more and more lately...?

As if he didn't hear my last words, Kiro moves closer to the screen and glances at the open notebook on the table.

Kiro: It's already this late, and you're still rushing to finish your homework?

MC: The professor who was supposed to teach the history of film development has been temporarily replaced by another one, who's way more strict.

Kiro: No wonder you look so sad.

Kiro: Let’s connect our microphones and cheer each other up, then.

I nod and watch Kiro walk a few steps away and start to move his arms.

My headphones suddenly grow quiet, followed only by the sounds of my pen sliding against paper and his breathing as he exercises.

The faint sounds diffuse into the night, as if gently tapping my heart through my eardrums.

MC: .....

I write a few lines, and helplessly purse my lips as I look at the screen. Kiro ties the elastic band around his feet and stretches them one by one.

A hint of sweat oozes out of his cheeks, glowing slightly under the light.

The hand holding the tip of my pen tightens slightly. I stare at Kiro's scabby ankle, and hear him speak.

Kiro: Hmm? Why is MC distracted again...

Kiro: Haven’t had enough rest recently?

MC: ...I'm fine. Compared to realizing my dream, this bit of trouble is nothing.

Kiro: So what is it that's got you so down in the dumps?

I am left slightly stunned. Kiro stops what he's doing, props his chin with one hand and looks at me earnestly.

Kiro: I've noticed that you've been worried for quite a while now. Not only has your writing been intermittent, but your lips are also pursed together so tightly...

I remain silent for a moment, then lean onto the table and sigh softly.

MC: Do you remember what I just said, about the teacher of film history that's been replaced? In fact, he too was reluctant to give up this exchange opportunity.

MC: But his daughter was soon going abroad to study, and this was the last time he could spend time with her before she left. After spending much time weighing the pros and cons, he finally gave up on this opportunity.

I pause. Kiro doesn't urge me. He just looks at me earnestly and attentively.

I find my troubled mood silently soothed by his gaze, and I speak in a low voice.

MC: Although I feel sorry for him, I also understand why he made such a decision. Adults have many concerns when taking a step forward.

MC: There are always times when you are caught in a dilemma and have to weigh the pros and cons before you can come up with a compromise. So I still can't help but wonder...

Kiro: Wonder what?

The voice in my ear is so soft that I feel compelled to lower my voice as well.

MC: ...Was my decision to attend this training course really the right one? Am I being too greedy to want it all?

MC: I want to make good use of this learning opportunity, but I can't help but worry about you.

MC: Are you taking good care of yourself every day? Is your leg really no longer in pain? Or are you only telling me what I want to hear and none of the bad stuff so I won't get distracted?

MC: It's like I'm running back and forth on this road. I can't let go of either side, but I can't be satisfied with being on just one side either...

My voice grows lower and lower, and I hear a helpless hum through my headphones.

Kiro: If I were to audition or take up acting lessons, would you have stopped me, Miss Chips?

MC: Of course not! It would be your chance to get one step closer to your dream.

I reply subconsciously. The person on the screen raises his hand and taps his phone, as if tapping my head from a distance.

Kiro: Like you, I too want to see the one I like walk to a more dazzling place.

Kiro: I'd be angry if you gave up the opportunity to grow for me.

Kiro: After all, two people are together to make each other better, not to constantly hold each other back and make compromises.

His voice falls into the warm evening air, carrying with it a soothing lull.

Unable to stop the warmth that fills my heart, I feel the corners of my lips curl up slightly.

MC: I get that in theory...

MC: But in practice, we'll encounter all sorts of problems.

Kiro laughs softly, and his serious question comes through my headset.

Kiro: For example? Let Sir Kiro listen and see if he can help you resolve it.

I turn my head and poke his cheek through the screen.

MC: For example... every night before I go to sleep, I miss you very much.

Those blue eyes flash. Kiro lays on his side on the bed, and looks at me through the screen, just like we usually do when we fall asleep holding each other.

Kiro: I don't seem to have a solution to this problem yet.

Kiro: Then tonight, I'll sleep with you, just like this.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[Part 4]

The next morning, MC wakes up to find that her phone showed that call lasted for 246:51 minutes, even though she and Kiro talked for only 2 hours after laying down on the bed together yesterday, until she fell asleep. Which means that Kiro cut the call long after she fell asleep.

A sweet feeling wells up in my heart, and I walk to the sink, sending him a message while brushing my teeth.

MC: I fell asleep yesterday without realizing it and seemed to have forgotten to say good night.

The next second, a big smiling bear pops up on the chat interface.

Kiro: No worries~ I just had an unexpected gain.

Kiro: I found a stray cat "making noise" outside the door and and managed to catch it on the spot.

Along with his voice, a photo of him and the cat comes into view.

The number on the door panel behind him... Was that my room number?!

I am left stunned for a moment, then quickly move to open the door and come face-to-face with Kiro's smiling eyes.

He leans against the door frame, his slender figure outlined by the morning light, forming a slightly glowing silhouette.

Kiro: Now, you can say good morning to me~

MC: [worried] ...Why did you sneak over here instead of resting up at home?

Even as I say this, I can't stop myself from quickly taking him into my arms, sensing the beating in my chest quicken a bit.

The person I think about day and night is right in front of me. Simply spending another moment just looking at him makes the corners of my mouth curl up helplessly.

After Kiro walks into the room with his suitcase, he winks at me fearlessly.

Kiro: Because last night my girlfriend said this to me: "Every night before going to sleep, I miss you very much."

MC: ...You didn't have to fly here just for that! Aren't you worried that your injury will get worse?

I raise my voice slightly and nervously look at his wound.

Noticing my gaze, Kiro leans back into the sofa and casually shakes his ankles.

Kiro: Don't worry, you see, it's almost recovered!

MC: Come on... A certain someone said something similar when Savin brought him back.

Kiro and I look at each other for a moment, and then he lets out a long sigh.

Kiro: It seems that Miss Chips won't feel at ease unless I let her examine it for herself.

Kiro: Then I'll go take a shower first. I'll let you check the condition of the wound later.

Kiro says as he walks into the bathroom. After the metal switch makes a brief sound, the faint sound of water can be heard.

I pull his suitcase to the corner and place it next to my suitcase. Just as I am about to turn around, I hear a crash in the bathroom.

MC: ...What happened?

No echo comes from the bathroom, and even the sound of water stops. I stand there for a moment, but am unable to keep myself from walking into the bathroom.

The misty heat hits me in the face, and water marks twist and turn on the dark floor. Behind the misty shower curtain, a familiar figure is vaguely visible.

MC: Kiro? Are you okay?

Kiro: .....

Unable to hear his voice clearly, I step closer to the bathtub, and in the next second, his palm suddenly latches onto my wrist. Kiro pushes the shower curtain aside, chuckles and shakes his hand that is clasped with mine.

Kiro: That's not good. Have I become someone so fragile in your eyes, MC?

MC: You are a wounded soldier right now, the situation is different...

A few strands of wet hair stick to his cheeks, and the bright light reflects in his eyes, granting them a mischievous glow.

Kiro: You should be able to see it clearly now.

Kiro: How am I recovering? Do you want to see for yourself?

His wet fingertips grasp my arms and then slowly move down to my waist.

Fearing that I might touch his wound, I am left with no choice but to lean towards him to close the distance between us again.

Kiro: I got the go-ahead from my physiotherapist before I left.

Kiro: Appropriate activities now will not affect my body, but will help me recover, so don't worry.

Warm foam surges between us. I purse my lips and gently brush his scabbed wound.

MC: The original treatment plan was for two weeks... Is it really possible to start this early?

Kiro: Probably 'cause my physical fitness is different from regular people? During rehab, I managed to do a little extra.

He downplays it, as if it's just a trivial matter that one need not pay any attention to, but the message is made clear to me.

All the training that he'd been doing late at night during our previous video call finally makes sense now.

I blink and pinch his face helplessly.

MC: Honestly... It was already a hard enough plan to follow as it was.

Kiro: Maybe. But the producer MC said something that I think makes sense.

The voice beside my ear grows softer, and the faint smile on his lips makes my heart beat faster for some reason.

MC: ....What?

Kiro: "Compared to realizing my dream, this bit of trouble is nothing."

Kiro: What I long for most during this period of time is to be by your side.

The misty water vapor gathers again. My figure is vaguely reflected in those eyes, preventing me from looking away.

A warm current surges from my heart. I can't help but raise my hand and touch his cheek.

MC: Then now, in this moment, my dreams have come true as well.

As our breaths intertwine, I release my arms from their place at the edge of the bathtub and gently kiss him on the lips.

The arms behind me tighten, and in a daze, I seem to hear a satisfied sigh, but I have no time to pay it any mind.

Our longing for each other after this long separation, the joy of our reunion, and the subtle throbbing ache in my heart, all melt into this increasingly deep kiss.

The warm water rises, and the swaying foam and current soaks us through.

Until every place is finally imbued with our breaths.

[END]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Masterlist: Here

[soapymansuds]

Eternity and Counting

(Pt1) This is a running piece I've nearly finished, but the whole thing is way too long to post as one chapter sooooo... This part's pretty short just for the sake of timeline splitting.

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad, everybody is crying like all the time

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

(Takes place in the Frost Flowers event (sorta?), with mild "that chapter where MC finds out they're the Bridge" spoilers. Can't remember which chapter that was.)

~/\~

It's so heavy. This grand weight I've been lugging around since that day. I should have died. I was supposed to die. I would have deserved it too. All I've ever managed to do was cause problems for this family. And maybe I still am. The idea almost stopped me. Visions of their faces. Their tears. Their grief. It did, actually. A few times at least. But not today. It's happened again. Everything was going just fine until that God-forsaken dog decided I would be the object of his affection. Somehow, in spite of the threat it faced to the nation, the brothers refused to just hand me over. Almost losing not just their home, but their kingdom, for my sake. Yet again wasting their time trying to save me. Just like they did when my stupid power nearly killed Lucifer. When Lucifer nearly killed HIMSELF to save me. A bitter, evil part of me is still mad at Michael for stopping me. For saving me.

My arms feel heavy as lead as I lay here, counting away the seconds. I've got nearly an hour before anybody gets home from RAD. Plenty of time to make sure I stay dead. I feel a little bad for lying about being sick to get out of classes today. But maybe I am. Doesn't matter much now anyway. Really, my biggest concern in the current moment is how long it will take Barbatos to notice the ingredients I took. Sure, he's in classes right now too, but he pops in and out of the castle all day long. The likelihood of him stopping into the kitchen and noticing the cracked cabinet door, the scavaged shelves, and finally the open jars is uncomfortably high. In my defense, the chances of that happening while I was there were equally high, so I can't be blamed for the messy crime. But he's only got a few moments more before his discovery will be for naught, so I suppose it's not terribly worrying.

I can feel it, creeping up my spine like a cold massage. The ever-growing numbness. The slow death of my limbs. My lungs. Me. It's growing darker now, unnaturally so, even for The Devildom. I can finally free them of my burden. Free myself of it too. But I would like to offer a final scorn to whatever God allowed me to hear the gentle creaking of the front door.

~/\~

(Mammon's POV)

A chill runs through my spine,like something ominous is lurking behind me, but as I turn around, nobody's there. In spite of that comfort, I can't shake this overwhelming dread coating my nerves and sinking into my bones, urging me to move. Driving me to jog home. The gentle sway of the bag on my arm becoming notably more violent as it begins swinging by my side.

My hands can't work fast enough as I try to unlock the front door. I break into a near sprint as I approach their door, slamming it open.

"MC?" I call, it's dark in their room, but I can just make out the shape of their body resting in their bed. "Oh, you're just sleeping." I mumble, walking up to their bed and setting the bag on the ground next to it.

"Hey, I gotcha some human world medicines." I whisper, pulling a few bottles from the bag. "C'mon, you gotta wake up and take some."

I can't help but roll my eyes at their lack of reaction. "Been spending too much time with Belphie." I reach up to shake their shoulder gently.

Nothing happens. So I try again, fingers gripping just barely tighter. Tight enough to feel the unsettling chill of their skin. It seeps through my fingertips and into my soul. Gripping my heart in white hot fear.

"MC, wake up." I shake them again. "MC." Their name falls from my lips like a plea. "MC please-" I grab their other shoulder. "MC!" Tears spill from my eyes, breath shaky and ragged. "Wake up!"

(Raghhhh, sorry about this)

-Your dear friend, the author

[sereneres]

sick. (sort of) ⁰

k. chaewon & m. sakura x 6th member!reader / 0.7k

summary. — in which you’re sick enough to have one (1) bead of sweat roll down the side of your face.

warnings. — eunchae pops in and then disappears / i wrote a majority of this at midnight lol, i am not sick.

you’re sick.

so sick that you felt like you were going to die in the next few seconds if a doctor didn’t come and–

“you don’t feel warm.” chaewon murmured, her hand placed on your forehead. “you’re also not red, nor are you sweating.” she then moved her hand to the side of your neck, her brows furrowed as she stared at you. “are you sure you’re sick?”

okay, well, maybe you weren’t that sick—at least, you weren’t so sick that you needed a doctor to come and fix you—but it wasn’t like you weren’t not sick either.

“i don’feel okay.” you slur, wincing when you feel your head pound. “everythin’ hurts.”

chaewon, frowning, sighs and moves to remove her hand from your throat, only for you to take it and press your cheek against her palm.

“‘nnie, you’re s’warm…” you mutter, eyes drifting shut oh so slowly. “‘rey’sureyou’n’sick?”

the older girl purses her lips, her frown deepening as she gently shook you awake, causing you to whine. “yn, please try and stay awake. you can’t take medicine if you aren’t.”

“medicine?” just hearing the word is enough to make you snap awake. “wh’ch medicine? ‘s it the one tha’ tastes goo’ or the one that tastes supa’ bitta’?���

“neither of them taste good or bitter, yn.” she says, sighing. “both of them are supposed to be sweet just so that kids can eat it without whining, but–”

“what’s going on here?”

the two of you turned your heads to the door—well, more like chaewon did. you had just slowly spun in your chair until you were somewhat facing the door—where the oldest of the six of you stood.

“hi ‘nnie!” you greeted, slugishly waving your hand at the older girl. “wh’nd yu’ge’here?”

she blinks, making you blink back at her, if not a little bit slowly. “what?”

“she’s asking, ‘when did you get here?’” chaewon translated, giving you a weirded-out look when you let out a not-so-quiet giggle at the thought of needing a translator to translate your perfectly understandable—and definitely not slurred—words. “and to answer your question, ynnie is sick. sort of.”

“sort of?” eunchae—where the hell did she come from?—asked, popping out from behind sakura—oh.—with an unimpressed look on her face. “how is someone ‘sort of sick’?”

“have you taken her temperature yet?” sakura asked, her lips pursed.

chaewon shook her head, her brows furrowed. “i haven’t, but she doesn’t feel all that warm, she isn’t red, and she isn’t sweating.”

“but ‘m sweating.” you pouted, pointing at what you’re pretty sure is a bead of sweat on the side of your face. “see?”

“yn isn’t warm, she isn’t red, but she is sweating.” chaewon amended. satisfied by the correction, you give your leader a gummy smile and, to your delight, she returns it with a small smile of her own.

“…let’s just bring her to the kitchen.” sakura decided with a sigh. “the thermometer should be in a drawer somewhere in there and if she is actually sick, she’ll take some medicine and go straight back to bed.”

“and if she isn’t?”

“y’h!” you slur, opening your eyes as wide as you could. “wh’if ‘m n’sick?”

“then we’ll make her breakfast and hope that her ‘sort of’ sickness doesn’t make her throw up.” sakura said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “and in the event that she does throw up, we’ll hope that she throws up on anywhere—the toilet would be more preferable but we both know she’s not going to make it there—but herself.”

“th’s hr’sh.” you mutter sulkily. “‘can to’ally m’ke ‘t t’th’toil’t.”

chaewon sighs in exasperation, though the amused smile on her lips gives her away. “yn, we have no idea what you’re saying.”

“hmph!”

(spoiler: you ended up kneeling in front of the toilet an hour or so later with kazuha holding your hair up and yunjin cooing in your ear. sakura and chaewon were busy cleaning up your throw up on the floor—thankfully tiled—while eunchae was in her room, having been sent away after nearly throwing up herself after seeing you throw up.)

masterlist.

[gleamingtempest]

Tetro Danganronpa Pink - Character Playlist Reveal

Head over to this post [https://www.tumblr.com/gleamingtempest/772351921156767745/tetro-danganronpa-pink-playlist-challenge?source=share] in order to participate yourself if you would still like to ! Spoilers posted on that post will be deleted so DW about being late. : )

Otherwise, the results are below the mark. Please enjoy !

Egoist - Sasaki

STAR Child - Chiba

Bitter Medicine - Tsuno

Shelter - Wada

Anything Can Happen - Hasegawa

Envy - Isono

Our Time - Ojima

Dance of Corpses - Kamimura

Trust - Tamba

Problematic - Hiroaki

Creature - Hama

The Queen of White Lies - Yanagi

Eldest Daughter - Watari

What's Wrong - Harada

Villain - Okazaki

ビ−タ - Hayashi

Kitchen Fork - Monomoko

Congratulations to @supahstarrr for getting the most songs correct ! They got 7/17 songs correct. [Hasegawa, Ojima, Hiroaki, Hama, Yanagi, Watari {ofc} & Okazaki].

Thank you to everyone who engaged & had fun with this ! It was an enjoyable challenge to find songs for all 17 studentside characters. As is noticable by the spread, I gave up on some parts & used the same band multiple times. ^^'

Earnestly I don't have an interest in most of these musicians nor a knack for music so this was an interesting puzzle for me. I hope that it was engaging, helpful or insightful to all of you as well. : )

Please be well & take care. 👋

[bamsywrites]

Guilt Part Two

Summary: Tyrion worries. You have a baby.

Ships: future Tyrion x Reader, past Tywin x Reader

Tags: depictions of child birth, babies, probably ooc, fluffy, a lil bit of angst. not my best writing.

Notes: it's been forever, I know, I apologize. This is just a short fluffy piece. Let me know if you'd like to see more from this story or if you'd like to read what reader and Tywins relationship was like (spoiler warning: it's complex as fuck and reader did kinda sorta like him a little bit despite what she says). Like I said in the first one, this story has been in my maladaptive daydreams for forever and I love getting the story down. As always I'm open to criticism as long as it's helpful and constructive.

Part 1

Tyrion paced.

He'd been pacing so long he swore there would be indents of his feet on the stone floor of the halls. Hours have passed, day turned to night and still he paced. The torches had long since burnt out, nothing but the moon and stars coming through windows illuminated the stone now. The night was silent besides the muffled sounds coming from the closed door that Tyrion continued to pace in front of. He desperately tried to hear what was going on behind those doors. But all he heard was muffled chaos.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

He strained his ears once again to hear. Muffled pained moans. The sound of cups and bowls being moved. People were talking, frantic, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Damned those walls, damned his painfully average hearing, damned it all.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

He'd tried to gather information where he could, a few handmaidens had left the room in the hours that he'd been there to fetch water or medicine or... whatever, he wasn't sure because they wouldn't answer his questions. Not so much as a nod or a head shake. Damn those women too, he thought.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

You'd been in labor since early that morning, he'd been woken by the news that your baby was coming, and he'd been outside the door since. It shouldn't take this long? Should it? This was an area of women's anatomy that he has little experience with and it infuriated him. The not knowing, the sounds of your screams, the anxiety, the worry, the guilt.

Step. Step. Step - Stop.

"Agh! Fuck!" Tyrion yelled, throwing his flask full of wine at the wall as hard as he could. He watched it clatter to floor, wine splattering the floor and the wall.

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to tune the world out, tried to focus on getting himself together and not allowing his thoughts to go too far. His fingers bitter themselves in his hair, his forehead pressed against his knees. Worry and guilt consumed all of him. You were the only person he had here, that babe was his brother. You were smart and kind and strong. You were good and all that came from you was good. Trysta, Nataria - they were good. The world couldn't lose you.

He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you.

There was a new sound from behind the closed door. A cry.

A baby cry.

Tyrion wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but his ass was numb as he stood and waited for word of how you were doing. How the baby was doing. Just a word.

A young handmaid emerged from the room, "She's doing well, m'lord. Tired but she's doing well." But her voice sounded almost pitiful, it worried him for a moment until he heard the sound of your tired voice from inside the room.

"Tell him to come in."

You sounded exhausted but he could hear the smile in your voice.

Thank the gods.

Tyrion had never felt such a wave of relief in his life as when he entered the room and saw you with your babe swaddled to your chest. Your face was pale and you were covered with sweat, your hair sticking to your face and skin slick. Your lips looked chapped but they smiled down at the bundle in your arms. His heart jumped at the sight of your smile. Even now, he thought you looked beautiful.

You were the first to speak, "A baby boy. I haven't thought of a name quite yet," you never took your eyes off the baby in your arms. "He is beautiful though, come look at him. He's perfect."

Tyrion approached and his breath hitched in his throat as he saw the baby asleep in your arms.

"A dwarf?"

His voice was quiet as he looked at the sleeping baby. He was shocked. The baby was his brother after all, it would make sense he supposed but he was more shocked at how you were looking at the baby. You had no disgust. No contempt. You had love radiating from your features as you looked at your son.

"I...I am sorry," he apologized- for what he did not know. He felt that's what he's supposed to do.

Your eyes shot up to him and your gaze turned stern.

"No, your self pity is not going to taint my son'" your voice was harsh and firm "There is nothing to be sorry for. He's perfect the way he is, just as are you, and I will not have you think there is something wrong with my son simply because you falsely believe there is something wrong with you," you turned your gaze to the bundle in your arms. "I would burn all of the Seven Kingdoms to the ground for him, just as I would my daughters. Oh, how I wish they could be here to meet him. "

Tyrion stood in awe for a moment. In that moment you were awe inspiring, with your body exhausted and covered in sweat, your eyes telling the story of how your body was spent of all energy but still bright and smiling at at your son. You were gentle, loving with your baby on your chest but the fire in your eyes never died. You managed to put him in his place while making him feel more worthy than he ever had.

"Come," your voice broke him out of his trance, "Hold him." You held the sleeping baby for him to hold.

"I have no where to sit, my lady." He feared that if he touched the babe, if he held him, that Tyrion would taint him or ruin him in some way.

"Nonsense," you moved motioning to the spot on your bed right next you. He must have shown his hesitance on his face because before he could object your voice cut him off.

"I just spent an entire day painfully and excruciatingly pushing this child out of my womb. I do not give a fuck about what is proper or improper."

"Yes, my lady." He couldn't stop the smile that stretched upon his face. He'd never heard you say such things but he suspected you were right.

The blankets rustled as Tyrion sat next to you and made himself comfortable. "Of all the reasons I've found myself in a beautiful woman's bed, I cannot say this has been one of them."

You smiled softly as you sat the sleeping babe in his arms.

"They're always so peaceful right after birth," you say softly. "Its the next day that's the hardest. Tonight he will sleep and I will rest and tomorrow he must come to terms that this world is colder than the one he was used to."

Tyrion looked down at the babe, his brother, and smiled softly. He had already tufts of Lannister hair on his head and he looked so peaceful. His fingers traced the babes face gently. "My father is rather good at making adorable babies I must say."

"I would like to think that it is me making the adorable babes and not Tywin."

"You? I was more so talking about me than the babe."

You laughed out loud, it was exhausted but it still made Tyrions heart skip a beat.

"Speaking of him, you must give this babe a name. You can't just refer to him as the babe or him for ever."

You sighed, your head falling to rest on his shoulder. "I do not think I have it in me to name him today."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes as the three of you sat there. Tyrion fully enjoying the weight of your head on his shoulder and sleeping babe in his lap. It wasn't until he noticed your breathing change that he realized you had fallen asleep. To know you felt safe enough, felt relaxed enough to sleep on him made his heart race.

"I will not let the harshness of this world take you from me." Tyrions voice was quiet and soft, he didn't know if he was speaking to you or your child or to both but he meant everyword.

[siphoklansan]

Introducing…. 𓆝 ⋆.𖦹°‧

꧁𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡𝗼𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐢꧂

สุชลที ทิพย์ชลาลัย

“He claims that his father is a king.”

Height : 167 cm.

Birthday : 15th of November (Loy Kratong)

Age : 18

Homeland : East of Scalding Sands (Attidaya)

Best Subject : Practical Magic

Club : Equestrian club

Talents : Horseback riding, swimming.

Hobby : Taking care of his pet *jet dragon horse (Nhil - ม้านิลมังกร)

Dislikes : Nagas, sea snakes

Favorite Food : Tom Yum Khung (ต้มยำกุ้ง)

Least Favorite Food : Traditional medicine, bitter herbs.

꧁𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜꧂

- 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝗼𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚: the ability to summon an extinct, magic creature of the sea: the Jet Dragon Horse. Suchol can command the horse at will whether to attack or to use it as a means of transportation, both on land and sea.

- Suchol can breathe underwater.

꧁𝐅𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡𝗼𝐥꧂

- Suchol’s first name “Sucholatee” means beautiful sea and his last name “Thipchalalai” means the angel’s ocean✨

- Suchol is based off of another famous literature piece (famous as in it has been in plays for countless of times- like Romeo and Juliet💀) called Phra Apai Manee (พระอภัยมณี) and he’s based on a character named Sudsakorn! The story is a bout Sudsakon, a half mer half human boy, goes on a journey to find his father.

- Spoiler alert: tbh his father is lowley a piece of shit based on what I remember😭 He has a lot of wives (at that time having many wives is a power status, and he’s a king) and he fell in love with a mermaid who is Sudsakorn’s mother. THEN HE LEAVES SO THAT’S WHY SUDSAKORN GREW UP TO LOOK FOR HIM. The dad’s also the protagonist of the story (his name is on the title) but I’m purely writing this out of memory because so many things happened in the story and I have to go reread it again. The dad left for some “duties” but got a new wife along the journey like bruh🗿

- Back to Suchol though, his horse Nhil (or should I say his unique magic👀) is based off of the horse dragon in the literature piece! The horse dragon is a wild animal, and its strength even rivals yakshas. But Sudsakorn decided that no☝️you are my friend and I will treat you like you’re some stray cat on the street☝️ and that’s how Sudsakorn got his mount HSJDJUJSUJDU

- To elaborate further on his Unique magic, it’s kind of like Kalim’s magic carpet. The magic carpet is a replica of the original one, and Suchol’s horse dragon ability is a replica of the extinct animal🫶✨

꧁𝐀𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡𝗼𝐥꧂

- Sucholatee Thipchalalai or Suchol for short, is an aspiring and dutiful young half-mer of Royal sword Academy- sorry that was a lie, he’s actually a trouble maker. Don’t let his pretty face fool you!

- Oh, he’d stir up trouble and pranks everywhere. Like dude, how’d you get here in this academy of all places?? You sure you’re not from NRC? You didn’t snuck in here did you?

- Aside from his infamous tricks and such at the academy, he’s quite a sweetheart to his family; his single mother who is a mermaid, and his surrogate father who is an old man next door.

- Growing up on an island with fairytales and stories being told to him constantly, he grew up to believe it is all true. That is to say, he’s the type to believe that Santa Claus is real (and he still does please don’t break the news to him🙏)

- Suchol was a young prodigy due to the mysterious ways his surrogate father taught him magic. It ranges from animal linguistics to ancient magic! That said, he doesn’t find a need to study and still gets good grades. Lucky bastard🙄 /lh

- The general rule of hanging out with Suchol is to NEVER mention Charin. Ever. Not because he hates the yaksha, it’s more like Suchol sees him as his idol. Charin was the older brother Suchol never had. The red eye shadow he wears is proof that he wants to grow up to be just like Charin!

- Suchol is the type of guy who says the most mind boggling, crazy, unbelievable thing ever but it turns out to be true.

- “My dad is a king from a far away land!” Yeah sure buddy 🤥 (it’s actually true)

- But hey, being a bad boy and a trickster aside, having a friend like Suchol is like a breath of fresh air. He’ll drag you to fun fairs and games, making sure you having the time of your life is his priority.

- One of his best qualities (maybe the only one /j im kidding) is honesty. Suchol finds it difficult to lie. While he wouldn’t be blunt about it (*cough* Mathura *cough*), he still makes sure to be honest without hurting anyone’s feelings.

- So what do you say? You don’t wanna miss out on one of the best rides of your life, right? Suchol can’t wait to show off his new friend his legendary horse!

*jet in this case refers to the gemstone

*picture of the dragon horse since I’m too lazy to draw it (the horse has shining black scales that looks like the jet gemstone)

“PS. Invite Charin if you can!” <- his words not mine.

[bontenten]

METAMORPHOSES 03 || An Heir

Pairings: Zenin Naoya x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader (unrequited) WC: 3.9k Series Genre/Warnings: smut, noncon/dubcon, emotional/physical abuse, yandere, Naoya, misogyny, arranged marriage, pregnancy, miscarriage, birth, lactation, manga spoilers, more dead doves

A/N: oh i veryy much enjoyed writing this chapter, ty for patience since last updates! 

Series Masterlist

“My lady, your condition can be considered stable now. Since this is your first pregnancy, there are still many things your body is not used to. The young master’s energy is also dense, causing your body to become frail. It’s paramount that you meditate everyday to keep your energies in balance for the developing child. I will write a prescription for a tonic which you should take three times daily. Rest and keep a stress-free, open mind until your delivery date.” 

The Zenin physician placed his tools back into his chest. He flipped open his notebook and began to scribble a list of ingredients. The tense atmosphere in the room settled down. 

“You will be the one responsible for bringing the medicine. Should anything happen, you will answer with your life in the disciplinary pit.” Naoya threatened. 

“Y-Yes, Young Master Naoya, of course. I will do everything in my power to take care of the lady.” 

You squeezed Naoya’s hand and tried to comfort the doctor currently scared out of his wits. “Thank you, Doctor. You may go now, I’m a bit tired.”

The earlier spasms of pain and vertigo had everyone in a panic. It came so suddenly, you were unprepared and before you knew it, you woke to Naoya’s immense killing intent burying the room.

To say that this pregnancy was difficult was an understatement.

--

After that incident, Naoya forbade you from having any form of excursion and threatened servants left and right to take care of menial tasks. You had to tell him to stop yelling so much lest he scared the baby in your belly. Only then would he quiet down a bit and mutter, "My son isn’t that useless."

“You know…we could have a girl too.” You waited for a response.

Naoya wrapped his arms around you, a hand resting over your belly. “I will have no weakling girl.” 

Then the two of you, along with the one growing inside of you, fell into slumber.

--

Akiko, having gone through the process of pregnancy and childbirth, often checked in on you and answered any questions you had. She was very strict about the pregnancy meditation exercises. Under her watch, there wasn’t a single day you could slack. The medicine tasted awful, but Akiko insisted you finish the whole bowl. Often, she watched you finish everything, with a piece of candy waiting to wash the bitter taste away. In many ways, she was the mother figure in your life.

Mai and Maki stopped spending time with you after they began their lessons. You wondered if you made the right choice in sending them to training, but ultimately, in this clan, you knew they had no choice. You knew they were talented, in ways that you could never amount to. Strength meant everything.

--

One evening, while Naoya was still at a clan meeting and Akiko was away, you decided to charge your old phone. You weren’t allowed anywhere near it during your pregnancy, not that you had much need for it. It was bad for the baby, was what they told you. But the device was still something for you to fiddle with, the size felt like it just belonged in the hand. You flipped it open. To your surprise, you had gotten a number of missed calls from someone you would never have imagined—Gojo Satoru. You hesitated, but dialed back, wondering what could have happened.

The sound of his voicemail was playing in your head already. Except he picked up.

“Finally, it’s been ages. When will your clan ever embrace new tech?”

“Satoru,” you greeted. “What a surprise, I didn’t think you would have anything come to me about.”

He chuckled. “Can’t I call if I missed you?” 

“I’m married now, if you need to be reminded.” You looked down at your midsection. “And very pregnant.”

“Oh, I know you’re knocked up.” The breathy voice seemed to tickle your ear. Gojo was probably laying down, on a couch or a bed. “A main branch Zenin spawn is probably pretty difficult I assume? How are you still doing?”

“Pampered suffocation.”

“Good, good. It’s probably best you’re relaxed, take a seat. How is the Zenin young master?”

“Naoya…yes, he treats me well.” You smiled at the memory of him during lunch. He had personally sliced and plated fruit for you.

“Honestly, I didn’t even think that his spouse would end up being you. Glad to hear it though. And have you talked with your father at all recently?”

No. 

“They’re busy,” you explained.

“Too busy to even visit or inquire about their daughter?”

Gojo’s question stumped you. The question that you had wondered about ever since the first day was finally spoken out loud. Even for a clan as strict as the Zen’in, surely if you couldn’t visit home, they could’ve paid you a visit? A phone call?

“I figured. What wonderful parents you have.” Gojo’s lighthearted voice switched to a serious tone. “I suppose you still deserve to know the truth.”

He explained that he’s been working on a perplexing phenomenon of curses in a few districts. There was typically some sort of pattern to where they appeared, their type, and their strength. The data was odd and Gojo had studied each of the cases in detail. But it didn’t make sense to you. 

“Satoru,” you interrupted him. “I’m not really following?”

“Did you not understand? I just explained—”

“Yes, but why,” you exasperated. Images of your clansmen, covered in a white cloth, being brought back from the streets flooded your mind. Blood-soaked bandages and screams while the clan physician strained himself to attend to all the wounded. The nights your mother stayed up late waiting for your father’s team to return. The visceral chaos and stench of death loomed over everyone you loved. "You know what happened. The cursed spirits had been growing in power and they were overrunning the clan's wards. If Naoya hadn't helped, more the sorcerers would've—"

A dry laugh cut you off. "Would've been just fine if not for the youngest son of Naobito trying to win you over. Helped your clan? Who even told you that? Was it your father when the Zenin proposed? And you really just believed them? You're more stupid than I had thought. Were you a shy, bashful bride eager to be a little plaything for your clan’s hero? You never even wondered why it was only your clan's ward that was badly affected? Time to wake up, princess. Why would anyone from your family want to speak to the sacrificial lamb and reason for all their suffering?"

Hang-up, your mind screamed at you. How dare he point the blame at you. Where were you when I was in trouble Satoru?

“And why should I believe you?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to. A bastard and a dimwit make a lovely pair.”

You swallowed as your head grew dizzy and began breathing heavily in an attempt to intake more oxygen.

Gojo realized his harsh tone and sighed. “Are you still there? Listen, I know there wasn’t much you could’ve done anyway. I’m just telling you this because I suppose we were acquainted in our youth.”

Acquainted. Just acquainted. But more importantly, all that you have known, all that you believed for the past years were being torn apart and rearranged in the span of fifteen minutes.

“Yes. Thank you, Satoru,” you managed to whisper.

“I realize this is probably a surprise, but I also want to assure—” He was cut off by the sound of a woman calling his name in the background.

“I’m needed elsewhere; take care.” 

You set the phone down after Satoru hung up and sat in silence trying to piece together the information that was just dumped onto you. You fell back onto the mattress, a hand over your belly. A heaviness weighed down your chest. It was madness to believe the words of the man on the other side of the phone. What was he to you now? No one. Your father and mother explained everything to you. Who was he to tell you what was the truth?

The relief when everyone saw the Zenin clan symbol on the guest’s hakama couldn’t have been fabricated. The hope in people’s faces wasn’t a lie. Even though you were hiding behind the screen doors at the time, the sincerity in his voice when he asked your father for your hand had to be true. That man saved the whole clan. Serve him well. If Naoya was the hero, why were those the parting words from your family on the day of your wedding?

A quiet knock pulled you out of your thoughts. “My lady, I have brought your tonic.”

The room was completely dark already. Who knows how long you’ve laid there trying to make sense of everything? 

You dragged yourself to the door and found a young girl holding a wooden serving tray with a bowl of bitter, black liquid. “Lady Akiko is currently away. She tasked me to bring this to your ladyship.”

You picked up the bowl and quickly downed the contents. It didn’t taste quite as foul as you had remembered. “Is the meeting over?” 

“It should be ending around this time. Should I escort you to the main hall?”

“No...I can go by myself,” you said, dismissing her. 

You had to hear it from Naoya himself. He was your husband.

Every week, the main branch had a formal meeting. As you got closer to the main hall, you could hear the footsteps shuffling as the men in the room were wrapping up. Quite murmurs and grumbles over the meetings slipped through the cracks. The first person to exit the sliding door was Naoya. He had a scowl on his face, no doubt, the meeting took a turn for the worse as well, but it faded into a relaxed grin when he saw you, coming over.

“What a change to see you here waiting for me. I am starving—”

He was about to check on you when he noticed your blank expression and puffy eyes. You got straight to the point, spoiling the atmosphere in an instant.

"Naoya…”

Naoya’s eyes lost their initial glimmer. He noticed a few other clansmen looking your way.

“If there’s anything to discuss, you may bring it up later in our room,” he said firmly. He didn’t know the reason for your unsettling expression, but whatever it was that was on your mind, he did not want a scene.

Naoya thought back to the irritating meeting and the currently disintegrating relationship with the Gojo clan. The Gojos were being extremely selfish, trying to take control of the Jujutsu Sorcerer Committee's favor. All of them were envious of the Zenins, trying to push the clan off its pedestal. Naoya fumed at the thought of the six-eyed Satoru who had always been treated as the pride and hope of the jujutsu society. They were close in age, and despite the two never meeting often, Naoya heard more than enough about society's adulation of the infamous sorcerer.

He couldn’t hear what you were mumbling under your breath, but the few words he caught and the name of his nemesis told him that it was definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation. He easily scooped you up despite your protests and pounding fists on his shoulders. With a few long strides, entered the hallway near your quarters. Only then, away from prying eyes, did he set you down.

 “Is it true?”

Naoya heard it clearly this time.

He eyed you for a moment and scoffed, looking away in disdain. "Woman, what are you rambling on about right now? Can't you tell I'm not in a good mood? I said, let's go back."

“No.” Your irritation struck a nerve. “Tell me right now. Is it true that you were the one responsible for planting  those high-level curses into my clan's ward?"

Ignoring the squeeze on your arm, you continued, “Satoru told me everything.”

Naoya felt a vein throb in his temple when he heard the name slip from your mouth.

“How you plotted and controlled the curses to attack our sorcerers right after a battle. Those curses, they were all picked from the disciplinary room right? Special Zenin locked curses. You would let my people get hurt till they were close to death before showing up. Satoru told me everything, what more do you have to say?"

"Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. Do you just blindly believe anything he tells you?"

"Who am I supposed to believe, you?” you snapped back. “Satoru told me how you threatened my family, that's why they never said anything to me up until now.” Maybe you would still be at home, with family and loved ones.

You glared at Naoya in shock as the sting on your face settled into a sharp burn. He took a step back and pointed at you, confused and disoriented. “You. You forced me.” 

 This was the first time he actually struck you in this way. 

"What are you going to do Naoya? Kill your own wife and child? Is that how you solve all of your problems? With your oh-so-powerful, inherited Zenin techniques?" You turned and began to walk away. "You're fucking pathetic."

"Don't you dare turn your back on me!" he roared after you. "Stop right there!"

There was no room for fear while fury lit your eyes. You ignored the rest of Naoya's threats and stormed back to your room. Naoya was responsible for everything. He lied to you. He manipulated everyone and oppressed your clan. And you believed all of his sweet words, and enjoyed his kisses and touches. Your numb cheek taunted you.

You slid the door open, but your feet couldn’t budget. You gasped and felt excruciating pain stabbing in your belly. You clutched your midsection as cold sweat ran down your back. The last thing you heard was someone frantically calling your name.

–

“Do something!” 

“Young Master, t-there’s no response.” 

“I don’t fucking care, do something!”

“W-We’ll have to induce labor…and—”

Naoya glared.

“Yes! Yes understood!”

--

The lights in the room were so bright. In just a couple of weeks, a life could have filled this space. It would have been a boy, just as everyone had hoped. Now only silence accompanies you and your breasts that ached painfully. You never even got to see him. Did he look like you or his father? 

You sat in the empty nursery room that you had spent the last few months pouring your time and feelings into. As if the loss of your unborn child hadn’t been difficult enough, the hushed whispers of the clan had been torturous. You had felt eyes from members of the main branch to the attendants, all hundred pairs of eyes surveying you whenever you had walked down the hall, scrutinizing the woman who was incapable of carrying the Zenin heir to full term.

You lost track of how long you sat in mourning. Time ticked by slowly, but eventually, a day became two days. A week passed by and to your horror, your breasts full and swollen with milk, finally had to empty its contents. Milk leaked out your nipples uncontrollably.

Perhaps it was the presence of the milk and no child in your arms to feed the liquid to. Reality finally hit you while you poured another cup of milk down the sink.

The door slid open. It was Akiko bringing your meal. She knelt down next to you and pulled you into her arms. Her steady hand ran over your shoulders as she quietly said, "If you want to cry, then just let it out. There's no one else here."

You felt your nose prickle as the familiar sensation of tears spilled from your eyes. They soaked through Akiko's kimono, but she did not seem to mind, only resting her hand on your back while you wailed. You blamed everything on the father of your unborn child. It was Naoya who was responsible, you were sure of it. He took the child from you with his temper and violence. You cried for yourself and your unborn child.

Mai and Maki had once confided in you that their mother gave up on them. They had told you that their mother never stood up for them in front of their father and that you had been the only one who tried to give them care and love. And here you were crying in their mother's arms as a failure. Akiko may not have been able to do everything for her girls, but you couldn't even protect your child's life. 

–

You just finished a bath and were about to go to sleep in the nursery again. It was the only place you had some privacy and peace. Except, the room wasn’t empty at all.

“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly, arms folded.

Naoya saw you enter, and placed the decorative toy back on its shelf. He crossed over languidly, arm resting on the frame right over your head. His presence made you dizzy, but you refused to yield a single step. He also recently bathed, a bitter herbal scent clung to skin.

“Did you think that you could avoid me forever?” he murmured next to your ear.

Your eyes met with his. At this distance, you could make out the details of his irises. Naoya’s eyes were undeniably beautiful and intoxicating. “One day at a time, I’ll get there eventually.” You made a move to push him away.

“Foolish woman,” he chuckled and took your hands. “It’s time to go back to normal.”

Naoya pressed his lips on your palm. “I missed you. I need you,” he crooned. 

“Naoya, we can never be the same anymore. Not after—” You gestured to the room. “This.”

“We’ll have another. Once you’re with another, the clan will naturally stop talking.” 

“Don’t touch me. As if I’m some breeding cattle.” Naoya didn’t seem the least bit fazed by your attempts to break out of his grasp. His silence taunted you, daring you to challenge his authority. 

“I’ll never forgive you,” you snarled. All you could do was glare at him. “It’s all your fucking fault.”

Naoya tilted your face towards him. Fingers traveled down your neck and tightly squeezed. Your cheeks burned.

The air thickened as Naoya’s cursed energy began to fill the space. “In this lifetime, you belong to me. Accept your fate.”

Lips roughly closed over yours. The pressure around your neck made your head spin. Your fists hammered his chest in a futile attempt. 

Naoya yanked your robe open. Your nipples were heavy and swollen. Wet. He cupped your breast and squeezed the soft flesh, completely fixated on the spray of white milk spurting out. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but the relief you felt from the release felt so good.

“Did that feel good?” he sneered before tugging and pressing on your breast some more. The front of his robes was covered by wet splatters. 

 “N-No,” you rasp, feeling Naoya’s hand travel towards your navel, tugging the waist-tie that was barely circled around your waist. He lifted one of your thighs to expose your dripping entrance. Cold air brushed against your thighs. “Not in here. Not in this room,” you begged, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Troublesome woman,” Naoya muttered and set you down. He clasped his palms together and began to draw an immense amount of cursed energy. “Domain Expansion: Time Cell Moon Palace.”

The nursery melted away as the space transformed into a dark void. This was the first time you’ve been taken into a domain, and it made you feel both weak and nauseous. A giant eye stared down at you, iris dilated, prying, and peering into your existence.

“No complaints here, right? Don’t even think about escaping.” 

Everything happened so quickly. You felt your back sink into a fleshy substance, legs folded and knees pressed up against your face.

“Wait, Nao—” And he was in you. You gripped Naoya’s biceps to stabilize yourself, nails imprinted deeply. A shudder escaped your lips after the initial jolt of pain. By reflex, you clamped tightly around him.

“Fuck,” he growled. “How are you still so tight?”

The dull ache remained from the recent trauma remained with every thrust Naoya made. Pleasure and pain are tightly bonded together. Disgust at the moan that slipped from your throat that earned a predatory smile. It drove him to pound you harder. His rough hand squeezed your breasts, spraying your overflowing milk supply. It splashed onto his face dripping down his jawline onto your face and lips. This was perhaps the first and only time you could imagine tasting your own milk. Naoya wiped his face and licked the opaque fluid off his fingers.

“It’s sweet,” he remarked, surprised by the taste. And almost feral, as though he had discovered something rare and precious, he dipped his head down to lap up the tiny puddles on the contours of your body. His tongue traced your enlarged and pert nipples, sucking on the sensitive bud to encourage more milk flow. You arched your back towards him, grinding your hips desperately in tears as you reached your climax.

Naoya grunted, feeling close. He held onto your hips and increased his pace until he came in you, filling your womb with a load of hot, white seed.

The darkness that surrounded you began to falter under Naoya’s distraction. The momentary weakness that came with the sexual release was like a pinhole in a balloon. Darkness melted away. The voyeuring eye disappeared, replaced in your vision by a mobile with soft plushies hung on a cotton rope. Nausea washed away the lingering, twitching pleasure.

“Get out,” you hoarsely whispered.

Still drunk on hormones, Naoya felt dizzy and confused. “What did you say?” 

Milk and semen stuck to your skin. Mustering all the energy remaining in you, you repeated. "Get out. Get out. Get out."

The demand-plea came out in constricted wheezes as your body convulsed and shook.

"Tch. "A scowl replaced Naoya's drunken expression. Completely fed up, he left you laying among the stained blankets. "You make me sick, woman," he spat at you. 

The room was finally empty. You laid there unmoving and naked, staring blankly at the ceiling.

[wistfulwanderingone]

"The Thorned Prince"

- Jin Grandet

Personal 2025 Weekly Writing Goal - Week #3

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Characters: Jin Grandet

Genre: Angst; then Fluff

Word Count: ~2000

Summary:

A blade sharpened by grief. A door standing between vengeance and the past. A truth waiting.

Jin walks the palace halls, a knife in hand and revenge in his heart. The king who let his mother die lies just beyond the door. But fate has a different path for him...

SPOILER WARNING: There be spoilers ahead for Jin's route. So if you have not read his route and do not want spoiler's please do NOT keep reading.

The blade in Jin’s hands was heavy—not from weight, but from purpose. It was a rusted thing, dulled by time, jagged like the pieces of him they had broken. A weapon made for desperation, not dignity. But dignity had never saved anyone.

It didn’t matter. A clean cut wasn’t necessary.

The only thing that mattered was blood.

His feet moved silently across the palace halls, though his pulse pounded so violently it felt like his ribs might crack from the force. The air was too still, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting. Waiting for him.

The scent of burning wax and aged parchment clung to the air, thick and cloying, as though the very essence of power had soaked into the palace’s bones. The scent of untouched wealth. He hated it. It smelled like comfort he had never known, like food he had never tasted, like medicine that had never been hers.

The tap of his footsteps was swallowed by the thick carpets, but he could still hear the faint crackle of torches, the distant murmur of guards somewhere beyond the walls. Everything in this place was pristine, gleaming under the golden glow of chandeliers that had burned for generations.

For them.

His mother had never set foot in these halls—at least, not that he knew of. But the palace had stolen something from her. He could taste the truth like copper on his tongue, sharp and bitter, unspoken but never forgotten. He could feel it in the way she avoided his questions, in the sadness that lined her smile, in the way she gripped his hand just a little tighter when he asked about their past.

She had once been someone else, someone more than the tired woman who gave him all the food off her plate and whispered lullabies while coughing into her sleeve.

Had she been loved here?

Had she been important?

Or had she been discarded—not by choice, but by force?

All he knew for certain was this: the palace had left them to suffer.

And now it lived peacefully behind these walls, untouched by the hunger and cold that had stolen her from him.

Jin clenched his jaw, but the bile in his throat burned, thick and sour. The air here felt wrong—too clean, too rich, heavy with the scent of perfume and wax, untouched by sickness or grief. It choked him, smothered him. The back of his throat itched with the taste of something bitter and unwanted.

They had taken everything.

His mother had been good, kind, full of warmth even when the world had been cruel to her. And he had watched her wither.

Day by day, she had grown thinner, weaker.

Her laughter had faded, her hands had become cold, and he—her son, her child—had been helpless to stop it.

No.

Not helpless.

He had fought.

He had begged, stolen, been abused and bled for the medicine that was supposed to save her.

And what had they given him for his desperation?

A cruel trick. A promise wrapped in deceit. A deal that left him bruised and broken in an alleyway, while his mother coughed herself closer to death.

They had lied to him.

They had used him.

And when she died in his arms, the world went cold. The warmth faded from her skin, from their home, from everything.

He had never felt warm since.

Now, the king—the man who had done nothing, who had let her suffer while he lived in luxury—lay just beyond this door. Comfortable. Powerful. Untouched.

Jin’s grip tightened on the hilt of his knife. His pulse roared in his ears.

Would the king even recognize him?

No.

To the king, Jin was nobody. Just another starving face lost in the streets, another nameless soul the palace had turned its back on.

But his mother had known the truth.

Don’t ever go to the palace, Jin. They will kill you.

Why?

What had they done to her? What had she seen that made her so certain?

Had she been cast aside? Had she once meant something to the man beyond this door? Or had she simply been another name, another forgotten life swallowed by the palace’s indifference?

It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t bring her back.

Jin pressed his forehead to the cool wood of the door, his breath steadying, sharpening. The wood smelled of oil and dust, worn smooth by countless hands that had never known hunger.

He could hear his heartbeat, the sound of his own ragged breaths.

The silence of the palace felt suffocating, pressing in around him, thick and unyielding, like the weight of all the lives it had crushed.

This was justice. This was balance.

The palace had let his mother suffer. It had taken everything from her, from him, and done nothing.

Tonight, he would make them pay.

His fingers curled around the door handle. He could feel the cold metal, slick with sweat beneath his palm.

He pushed it open.

And stepped inside.

The grand hall hummed with warmth, the air thick with the rich aroma of roasted meats, buttered bread, and spiced wine. The golden glow of candlelight flickered against the high-vaulted ceilings, catching on the delicate glassware and polished silver that adorned the long dining table. The fireplace crackled behind them, adding to the gentle symphony of the night—clinking utensils, the deep timbre of laughter, and the occasional scrape of a chair against the marble floor.

The real feast, however, wasn’t the one laid out before them—it was in the conversations, the effortless banter that bounced between the princes like a well-worn melody, something Jin had come to know by heart.

Sariel’s birthday.

It wasn’t an event meant for the public, just something small, something private. Despite his usual air of dignity and formality, Sariel had never cared for grand celebrations—so naturally, Clavis had made it his personal mission to ensure that the evening was as over-the-top as possible.

Jin leaned back in his chair, the cool wood pressing against his shoulders, as Clavis dramatically raised his glass, the light catching on the deep color of his grape juice, painting reflections on the silk of his sleeves.

“I’d like to take this moment to honor our dear, beloved Sariel—the ever-stoic, ever-grumpy shepherd of our most unruly flock,” Clavis declared, barely concealing his mischievous grin. His voice carried through the hall, smooth as honey, drawing out a mixture of groans and chuckles from the others. “Your patience is the stuff of legend, your scolding an art form, and your glares? Ah, truly, they could turn even the boldest fool to stone. A gift, really. And yet, despite our best efforts to send you into an early grave, you remain standing. A testament to sheer willpower, or perhaps, divine punishment for whatever sins you committed in a past life.”

Licht, sitting two seats away, let out a quiet sigh, as he took a slow sip. Yves, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of his nose as if physically warding off a headache.

“Just say thank you and sit down, hell-cat,” Sariel replied dryly, though the faintest hint of a smirk played at his lips.

“Oh, but I must insist—”

Clavis didn’t get to finish. Leon, grinning like a fool, reached over and yanked him back into his chair, nearly spilling both their drinks in the process. The sharp clink of glass echoed, but nothing tipped over—just another near-miss in the kingdom of Clavis-induced chaos.

“That’s enough, Clavis. Let the poor man have his meal.”

Across the table, Nokto chuckled, swirling his wine lazily in his glass, watching it catch the light. “For once, I agree. Let the man eat before he throws us all into extra paperwork out of spite.”

Sariel raised an eyebrow, expression flat. “Don’t tempt me.”

Luke, sitting near Licht, was watching it all unfold while shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming speed. The scent of seared meat and rich gravy clung to the air as he took another massive bite.

“D’you guys ever not argue?” he mumbled around a mouthful of beef, earning a sharp look of disapproval from Yves.

“Chew. Then speak,” Yves scolded, shaking his head.

“Ya sound just like Sariel. Next, you’ll make me write an apology letter to the silverware,” Luke shot back, still chewing.

Jin chuckled under his breath, the warmth of the spiced wine lingering on his tongue as he swirled the glass in his hand, watching them—all of them, his brothers.

Leon, the peacemaker, his voice always laced with easygoing warmth.

Licht, quiet but present, his gaze ever-watchful, red eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candles.

Yves, stubborn and prideful, but still deeply, unmistakably kind, his fingers ghosting over the rim of his glass as he sighed in exasperation.

Nokto, smirking as he leaned back, his sharp tongue ever-ready, but his eyes softer than he let on.

Clavis, ever the chaotic force, his laughter an unpredictable rhythm as he made sure no one got too comfortable.

Luke, the youngest, the wild card, always hungry—for food, for fun, for naps and the avoidance of work.

And then, Chevalier.

Jin’s gaze landed on him. Seated at the head of the table, calm as ever, he looked carved from marble—elegant, untouched, immovable. But even he wasn’t impervious. The faintest twitch of his brow betrayed his irritation with Clavis’s antics.

This was their family.

Their strange, chaotic, complicated family.

Jin hadn’t grown up here like most of them had. He hadn’t been raised in these halls, hadn’t spent his childhood knowing the warmth of family or the security of the palace walls. He had spent years believing his only place in the world was a ramshackle shack on the outskirts of the kingdom, cold and barren—only to learn, far too late, that his blood had always tied him to it.

For so long, he had thought he was meant to be alone. That warmth, laughter, belonging—those were things for other people. Not for him.

But sitting here, listening to them, smelling the slow-burning wax of the candles, feeling the heat of the fire against his back, watching the way they moved around each other like pieces of the same whole, he felt it settle deep in his bones—the truth.

He was home.

A quiet warmth spread through his chest, steady and certain. He didn’t need the throne. He had never wanted it.

But this? This was what he wanted. To be their older brother. To take care of them in whatever way he could. To make sure they were happy.

He wasn’t a ruler. He wasn’t a warrior.

But he could be this.

He could be the one who made sure Clavis didn’t burn the palace down with his elaborate pranks.

The one who reminded Yves to take breaks when he got too caught up in his own perfectionism.

The one who checked in on Licht when he retreated into silence for too long.

The one who made sure Luke actually did his work instead of napping the day away.

The one who kept Nokto from drowning in distractions or getting himself killed by one of them.

And most of all, he could be the one who stood beside Chevalier—not as a subject, not as an outsider, not as an accident of birth.

But as a brother.

His brother.

A brother who understood the weight he carried. A brother who would fight for this family—not because of duty or blood, but because he chose to.

Jin hesitated, just for a second, feeling the weight of it all—the laughter, the warmth, the familiar smell of wine and roasted meat, the glow of candlelight dancing over polished silver. And then, with a slow breath, he lifted his glass.

“To Sariel,” he said, his voice steady, warm. "For enduring us for another year."

A round of laughter followed, and even Sariel gave a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

The celebration continued, the voices of his brothers weaving together in the kind of harmony that only came from years of understanding one another. And Jin, sitting among them, listening, watching, being, knew with certainty:

This was enough.

This was everything.

And he would protect it for as long as he lived.

Tag List:

@rjthirsty Goes alone with the other fic you were interested in. <3

@ithseem @chirp-a-chirp @aquagirl1978 @queengiuliettafirstlady @nyxthepixystick

@ikeprinces-stuff @kaizoku-musume @candiedcoffeedrops @missaengg @ike-garden2024

@writingwhimsey @reborn-elven-spirit @elixirofubik

If you want to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for Ikemen fics, just let me know!

[yudrein-aile]

Meta: Qualitea in the Orr Empire

Let’s talk tea customs of the Orr Empire. As an avid lover of tea myself, reading Turning was quite entertaining as I could project all my silly little tea headcanons on the characters (but ask me about those another time). From early on in the novel, we see that the Orr Empire does have a distinct tea culture, so this meta will take a look at what teas they drink, what their tea culture looks like, and how skilled our protagonists are at preparing tea (spoiler: they’re not. Everyone say “thank you, Nathan”, the only one who knows how to make a good cup of tea.)

Tea

Tea is a pretty common drink in the Orr Empire, but first, we have to talk about what tea it even is. Now, if you want to be precise and a snob, tea, as per merriam-websters first definition, is “a widely cultivated shrub (Camellia sinensis of the family Theaceae, the tea family) native to China, northern India, and southeastern Asia and having glossy green leaves and fragrant white flowers” and “the leaves, leaf buds, and internodes of the tea plant prepared for use in beverages usually by immediate curing by heat or by such curing following a period of fermentation”. Thus, tea, as a drink, is “an aromatic beverage prepared from tea leaves by soaking them in boiling water”. According to this first definition, tea refers only to the tea plant.

In the Orr Empire, we do know that the tea plant actually exists. In chapter 39, Kishiar makes tea for Yuder specifically using tea leaves and in chapter 51, it is mentioned that Keilusa drinks a “black tea giving off a unique aroma”.

In the Orr Empire, the beverage tea is also made by using “any of various plants“ like tea, which means preparing them “by soaking their parts (such as leaves or roots)“.

So what teas do they drink in the Orr Empire?

Fresh chamomile, which is in season at the start of the novel (Chapter 16)

Black tea (Chapter 51)

Tea made from the leaves of a medicinal herb Rosa Faria la Orr cultivates (Chapter 58)

Tea made from a flower with an “extraordinarily fresh and cool scent” by pouring boiling water over it. The flower grows near Pearl Tower and helps with sleep deprivation, headaches and can be analgesic (Chapter 113, 143).

Tea blends (Chapter 143, 162)

Peppermint tea with honey (Chapter 162)

Tea made of the fluaville flower, which thrives on a barren mountain, devoid of sunlight, rain, and fertile soil (Chapter 167)

Cold tea made of ponegri, which is won by diluting the potent narcotic components of the ponesa plant to edible levels. It reduces pain and has mood-enhancing effects, as well as dulling the surroundings. (Chapter 205)

Bitter herbal teas for medicinal reasons (Chapter 403)

A pale red tea that might be black tea or a rooibos of some kind (Chapter 602)

A Southern tea with mingled sweet fruit and floral scents, rich in aroma and a yellow color. It is probably a green tea blend. (Chapter 919)

If you look at this – dare I say complete – list, you can roughly distinguish between teas drunk for pleasure, which seems to include teas made from the tea plant always, as well as some herbal, predominantly floral teas, and medicinal teas.

The rather high mention of medicinal teas is very much Keilusa la Orr’s fault, who drinks tea predominantly to help with his health condition. It’s also the only time something like honey is added to the tea. Adding milk, for example, isn’t mentioned at all! We also know that there exist teas of varying qualities and that nobles tend to drink higher-quality tea (Chapter 39).

Funnily enough, tea is generally regarded as a warm beverage, you want to drink it hot (Chapter 468). The only exception so far appears to be Katchian’s ponegri tea, which he drinks cold (Chapter 205).

How do you drink tea in the Orr Empire?

Well, first of all, they use teacups and pots! While this might seem like a small detail to you, a proper teacup is shaped to enhance the flavor and fragrance of the tea. Teacups tend to be lighter than coffee mugs and have a broader surface. While they are never particularly described in the novel, besides the note that they are made of porcelain (Chapter 15) the specification that they are for tea is enough to let us conclude that you don’t just drink tea, but that there is a culture associated with it.

Tea Culture in the Orr Empire

Drinking tea, when not for medicinal purposes, is a pleasure drink and appears to be mainly a social convention in the Orr Empire, which also makes it a good gift (Chapter 223). An invitation for tea is an invitation to socialize and get to know another person. Kishiar’s tea sets are made from “beautiful porcelain” (Chapter 15) and there is an art to gracefully preparing tea (Chapter 39, 223, 979). Having tea is not just a nice get-together, even when Duke Diarca enjoys a cup of tea with his close friends (Chapter 385), the preparation method matters. Similarly, even if Kishiar has Nathan fetch cookies, cakes and other sweets because of Yuder’s sweet tooth, it seems to be common to have snacks while having tea. Having popular and famous sweets that complement your tea while you drink it is simply good manners (352).

But the Orr Empire wouldn’t be the Orr Empire if there wasn’t also a class divide about it. Kishiar notes early on that Yuder “won’t have many opportunities to drink tea [he’s] personally prepared” (Chapter 39). Disregarding that this is a fucking lie on Kishiar’s part, the point he, most likely, is trying to refer to here, is that Kishiar, who both as a Duke and thus part of the nobility as well as Yuder’s superior, would not typically make tea for his subordinate.

This holds true for most of the little tea sessions we see in the novel! Nathan prepares Kishiar’s tea (Chapter 16, 58, and most other times Kishiar has tea), the servants of House Apeto prepare the tea for the Cavalry (Chapter 133), Katchian’s servants prepare him his tea (Chapter 205), Yuliver makes Keilusa’s tea (Chapter 303). While all of this is of course also expected of servants, it is also a show of trust as Kishiar points out himself, after all, it would be very easy to poison your employer’s tea (Chapter 16).

We also see that offering tea to your guests is polite, that is if you don’t make them wait for ages as the Apeto do with the Cavalry (Chapter 233). Kiolle also assumes that he’s grown closer to Katchian because they regularly drink tea together (Chapter 586).

So, much like in our world, drinking tea in the Orr Empire is not just necessarily having a cup of tea, but has a rich history.

How do I make a perfect cup of tea aka Kishiyu Cringefail Tea

Kishiar looks graceful preparing tea, but he does not, as far as I can tell, actually make a good cup of tea. Well, so how does one make a good cup of tea?

“Please, take a seat.” After roughly sprinkling the tea leaves that Kanna had once forced onto the two tea cups, a small movement of his finger formed two droplets of water in the air. The droplets divided into two streams, filling each cup. With another flick of his hand, the tea heated to a suitable temperature, steaming in the cups. Looking down at the steamy tea cup, Yuder lightly pushed one toward Kishiar. “Wait until the aroma comes out before you drink.” “You are remarkably efficient in brewing tea. Nathan would be disappointed if he saw this.” “If you have the skill, why not use it?” (Chapter 223)

Well, not like this obviously. Hilariously enough, Kishiar makes tea just the same – scooping leaves into the pot and boiling it after. So according to Nathan’s expert opinion, this is not how you’re supposed to prepare them.

The only prominent life tea culture I could find, by the way, where you boil the tea leaves with the water is the Egyptian Saiidi tea, but that one is sweetened with sugar, and neither Kishiar nor Yuder do that, so I stand by my argument that they both just prepare terrible tea.

Tea Culture (Wikipedia)

Tea Preparation Guide (Teapedia)

[snailchasers-den]

What about Tigerclaw x Spottedleaf has made you like the ship so much? I don't dislike it but I don't quite understand it either.

Well, the thing that kicked off my initial interest was the scene they had together in the first book, which I read as some type of flirty banter as a kid, and it later on snowballed from there the more I thought about it nowadays, I think LMAO Since then it's been like, my all time biggest ship in warriors, and I think about them all the time, even if I can't post about them a ton, I check the tag regularly and kinda just rotate them in my brain LMAO

It's customary at this point to mention I'm writing this while extremely tired, as I do most of my asks, so fair warning if any of this is kinda clunky. Other people have explained it WAY more eloquently than me, so if you're curious, I recommend looking in the SpottedTiger tag, cause others explain it in way more concise and understandable ways. I write most shit like I'm a madman at a whiteboard, but if that's your jam, you've asked the perfect person.

It's really a mixed bag why I started liking it-? A whole lot of things added up and got me hooked.

The difference in demeanors is fun, with Tigerclaw being threatening and ambitious and dramatic, while Spottedleaf is sweet and compassionate, yet extremely sassy, I feel like they'd play off of eachother nicely even in just comedic, non-romantic scenes.

Depending on how you want things to play out, you can basically sway how they effect eachother in however many different ways you want- Want an evil Spottedleaf AU? Tiger manages to convince her to join his side and we have a fun evil medicine cat. Want a however good Tigerclaw and a fluffier AU? Spotted is what he needs to soften him up just enough to not go feral and try taking over the clans. Want to tear them apart and have it be super tragic and kinda fucked up? Tiger still gets Clawface to kill her because he knows he can't bring himself to do it and knows she's his weak point. Something more canon-compliant? They were had a secret relationship before she died, and he sees her in Tawnypelt (I have a fic based on that idea, I love it. Obsessed with Tawnypelt resembling Spottedleaf by coincidence.) They're super flexible in that you can basically tweak and twist their story in so many different ways depending on how much you adjust the scenarios or their actions.

Make them mushy and sweet! Make them a badass medic/leader villain couple! Make them divorce eachother 3 different times and be bitter exes who throw snark and cold one liners! Make them be a tragic failed love story! Make them somehow make it work? Make them gay toms! Make them lesbians! Make them polyamorous with a cat of your choice! They're so versatile, and I love seeing anything people do with them.

I also like to throw a lot of religious/Starclan related things into the mix personally, because in different ways they both have connections with it in ways a lot of cats don't, and it can be both a good connecting point, and make it have an extra air of tragedy which I play VERY hard into in my False Prophecy AU. LMAO Spoilers for the AU that aren't really spoilers since I've drawn it before, but Tigerclaw doesn't actually commit a lot of his atrocities in that AU (Hence why I don't call him Tigerstar) and still goes to the Dark forest primarily due to literally lying about Starclan's word when they already wanted him dead from the moment he was born and 'corrupting a medicine cat', (And whatever else they could get him on, probably him being a bad mentor or having bad thoughts. They just wanted him in hell.) meanwhile, Spottedleaf, the golden girl of Starclan, despite being the one who ACTUALLY directly lied about their word and broke the code, is given a second chance and let in because 'She only loved too much'. (Because if they're going to say that line for someone like ASHFUR, I can twist it and use it for my AU in a more sinister manner, since Starclan is morally questionable here.) The ending of the AU's story also heavily relies on the afterlives, and though I won't go into it here since that's not what this ask is about and I genuinely do want to write it someday, I think it's a really fun way to twist things for them. It has such a poignant, vivid energy it carries with it, and I don't think it would feel the same with really any other pairing.

They're closer in age than most ships with them seperately, which is super nice, and makes it really fun to imagine them interacting as apprentices and their feelings building from those times into adulthood-

If you want to consider Spottedleaf's Heart, that could actually add to it too, seeing as they were both victims of Thistleclaw, likely even around the same time, and could seek solace in eachother over it- They're the only ones that truly understand, and that could drive them to want to protect eachother from other threats because they know they've been hurt in similar ways and don't want that to happen again.

I tend to imagine Tigerclaw to be a big ass Maine Coon while Spottedleaf is fairly small, and that just adds to it for me, since I think it makes the fluff between them 10 times better. My favorite warriors ship dynamic is when one of them is very, very fluffy and the other can basically just. Sink into their fur like a pillow. Hence why I also like MothCrow. I'm both unpredictable and incredibly predictable.

I also just don't really like a lot of Spottedleaf ships? She's one of my favorite characters, but I don't like basically any of the other pairings I've ever seen for her. Definitely don't like SpottedFire and never did, I see Mousefur as very very aromantic and relate to that, so SpottedMouse is very much not my jam- Anything else tends to be a rarepair or just something I don't really vibe with- She's not shipped with as many people as you'd expect. SpottedTiger was like striking gold for me- (Though Spottedleaf/Runningnose is also a nice one I think about from time to time, and is where I got Snailchaser as a character from LMAO)

Tigerclaw has always stood out to me and registered in my mind as being a romantic in a way too? It's a unique trait for a villain, especially in warriors, so I love emphasizing it, since god knows the Erins don't and won't. I know a lot of people like to joke about him kinda sleeping around or being a womanizer with him having two mates, but I love taking his multiple mates and interpreting it in more of a romantic sense- (And also I headcanon him as Polyamorous, but that's just me) He wasn't a good partner at all in canon, but something about imagining if he was makes him 10 times more compelling to me. He's a romantic! He's a family man! And he's a sadistic wanna-be dictator with the ambition needed to wreak havok and take over Shadowclan! Those traits 100% clash and that's the point. Putting him with Spottedleaf further complicates that by pairing him with a compassionate medic who does not at all share his lust for power. (Or might deep down, who knows! It's up to the writer!) I think it'd be fun to see internal battles and how the actual good traits he has fuck with his plans.

Though, if you know me at all, I'm also just really weird and love rarepairs and crack ships for Warriors. Hell, I basically made up the MothCrow tag on here by cautiously posting about Mothwing x Crowfeather- Even if my stuff's not completely canon accurate, I write in much more 'what if' scenarios and heavy AU usage. It's more fun and interesting to me to write in a more speculative "I love the version of this character that exists only in my brain" way, and out comes the stuff I make.