#you better think it's bad for the same reasons i do

[sapphiresaphics]

The biggest misunderstanding about Caitlyn from fans actually comes from season 1, not 2. Fans see Caitlyn break Vi out of prison and talk to Ekko about empathy and think that she’s learning and growing as a character and then when season 2 hits they think all that growth was somehow “abandoned” or “reversed.”

But that’s not true.

Caitlyn has ALWAYS been a spoiled little rich girl who came from a family of rich people who are so used to how much power they have in the city that they don’t regard ANYONE’S feelings or respect ANY rules. Both Marcus and Salow spell this out to us.

Marcus: “She’s a Kiramman! Just like them she does what she wants! I can’t control her!”

Salow: “It’s the name! It bewitches people.”

Time skip Caitlyn is introduced investigating the botched Jinx job at the shipping docks. She is not an official detective and Marcus makes it clear she isn’t supposed to be there. She’s supposed to be guarding her family’s pavilion, but she ignored both her mother’s AND the sheriff’s wishes to investigate a crime because she’s bored.

She breaks Vi out of prison AFTER she’s been effectively laid-off by Marcus, using her connections to Jayce to forge her release papers. Reminder: at this point in the story she is technically not a cop anymore. She’s doing all this stuff with noble intentions of trying to uncover Silco and bring Jinx to justice… but what she’s doing is technically illegal. And the only reason she’s able to get away with it is because she’s a spoiled rich BRAT.

Her privilege shields her from repercussions in season 1, just as they do in season 2.

The difference is that she’s now been traumatized by Jinx. Her bodily autonomy was violated by Jinx kidnapping her when she was literally naked in the shower, she was most likely tortured by Jinx, was tied up and painted on, threatened to be executed at gun point by Jinx, and then to top it all off Jinx murders her mother in a terrorist attack.

And Caitlyn tries to hold it all in. She tries to confide with Vi, she tries to let her hatred go… but both times she is denied her the ability to grieve properly. First by her privilege and not understanding that asking Vi to become an Enforcer would be rejected. And then by Ambessa by funding the attack on the memorial service.

She has no parental figure to guide her, her rage and hatred for Jinx is boiling over… so she resorts to what she always does and what she did back in season 1. She just does what she wants to get her way. She convinces Jayce to develop hextech weapons, she assumes the role of leader for house Kiramman, and she uses her unique position in power to bend systems her family put in place to protect Zaun against them.

Caitlyn in season 2 is very much the same Caitlyn we’ve always known from season 1. The difference is that in season 1 we were rooting for her because we like Vi. She exhausted the same disrespect for authority and people back then but they were in service of things we, the audience, liked. So we gave her a pass. We excused her rule breaking. We ignored her unique brand of privilege because we liked what her privilege could unlock for us.

Season 2 slams that door shut and tells us “no, actually, you weren’t supposed to like this because nobody in power is innocent.”

But rather than learn more about Caitlyn and understand her character better… people are dismiss this all as “bad writing” or “character assassination.”

And what’s more frustrating is the whole “dictator arc.” Because frankly I would argue that by that point Caitlyn HAS learned her lesson about privilege and power, but it’s too late to stop things now. Just as Jayce going vigilante in season 1 was the start of a cataclysmic event, Caitlyn gassing Zaun to look for Jinx results in Caitlyn losing everyone she trusts and respects. Broken up with Vi and alone, she is suddenly granted even MORE power than she’s ever had by Ambessa. And you can see it affect her. In that moment she realizes that Ambessa is the one who spearheaded the attack on the memorial. After seeing what happened between her and Vi, she realizes that by taking this role she will be responsible for even greater atrocities.

She has 2 choices. Let it all go, or use the position of power to her advantage. And just like before in season 1… she chooses the later. Her goal may still be to get Jinx, but she does NOT want to be a part of Ambessa’s dictatorship. This is why she’s so reluctant to join even with all the peer pressure. This is why she’s so slow and hesitant to walk forward. And she only accepts the cape she is crowned with once Ambessa says “your mother will have justice.”

What’s most important about this scene is that SHE KNOWS Ambessa is using her. That’s why when we see her in Act 2 she’s already trying to counter Ambessa’s plans. That’s why she’s constantly challenging Ambessa with “why is peace always the excuse for violence?” That’s why when Ambessa says “you don’t trust me?” Caitlyn responds with a resounding “no.” And that’s why when Vi drops back into her life she realizes she has an opportunity to correct her mistakes. She doesn’t switch on a dime because Vi fluttered her eyes and called her “cupcake.” She switches because she was already looking for an out. And this is why when Vi confronts her in Act 3 she screams “I KNOW.”

Caitlyn’s arc is that of someone who always had privilege and power coming to realize too late how dangerous and harmful that power is. By the time she learns her lesson she’s already entrenched with Ambessa and stuck in this hateful miasma for Jinx. Season 1 was setup for what was going to follow with how her character was going to learn and atone for her mistakes.

And what’s so god damn frustrating about all the discourse around Caitlyn is how reductive and dismissive it all is. So much of the discourse completely ignores the actions she takes to fix things in favor of trumping up the actions she took to get there. All of her transgressions in season 1 are ignored and her own internalized growth is reduced to a joke about Vi calling her cupcake. It’s MADDENING.

[ohdeerfully]

incredibly short and sweet self indulgent fic tonight..... had surgery yesterday (not nearly as bad as reader here i just like the dramatics) and have been fighting for sleep for like 7 hours. its nearly 5am im so tired. so heres some fluffy comfort fic?????! i need season 2 to come out already so i dont have to reuse gifs ),:

Battle Scars

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: reader is injured but no graphic descriptions. alastor is grossly sweet here masterlist join my discord! ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

After the latest attack from Heaven, you found yourself one of the many stuck in recovery. A gnarly wound on your abdomen and a fractured jaw left you covered in stitches and bedridden. It was embarrassing, almost, feeling so helpless. The attention you got from the kinder residents of the hotel ironically didn’t help you feel any better, although they meant well.

“I really appreciate it, really, but I don’t need this, it’s too much,” You spoke slowly, and it felt like you were nearly chewing on your words as you spoke to Charlie when she came to your room a day after your surgery with a whole gift basket of goodies and a small wooden knick knack of your favorite animal. You tried pushing it back into her hands, but it took no strength at all for her to keep it on your lap. She waved her hand dismissively.

“You fought so hard for us!” She said with assurance and gratitude. “It’s really the least I could do.” She removed the basket from your lap and rested it on a nearby vanity. She spoke a few more pleasantries and offered you your thousandth “feel better” before leaving the room. A light smile crossed your lips at her gestures, but it soon fell from your face again as your focus returned to your poor state.

Painkillers in Hell were less than ideal, although that would come as a surprise to nobody—it was Hell, afterall. Truthfully, “real” pain medicine did nothing to help, and the only real solution was some hard drugs to take the edge off. You opted to call up Angel Dust as a last resort.

For the next few days you were practically a ghost floating through the hotel, only shuffling out of your room to grab a meal and fluids. Every step ached, shooting pain up your body and through the mediocre stitches on your chest. Eating was no less painful, especially considering you never had an appetite and only really ate out of necessity. You couldn’t chew well, so you were stuck eating a mostly soft and liquid diet. It was miserable.

The days were blending together, especially due to the fact many of your nights were sleepless. You spent hours turning this way and that, desperately trying to find that perfect position that would let sleep finally turn off your pain for just a few hours, but it never came. Every night you eventually got fed up and sat in a rocking chair by the window, watching the red-casted city just a few miles away.

You heard a light knock at your door, but before you could reason enough at who would be awake so late in the night you felt a sensation of the air blowing before a presence materialized behind you. It took no time at all to recognize the familiar prickling of static on your bare skin. Instinctually the recognition brought relief, but your guard soon went back up after you had a moment to think.

A weird mixture of feelings crossed your mind as Alastor approached you, stopping at the side of the chair you sat in. His claws gripped around the head of the chair, stopping the gentle rocking you had been lulling yourself with.

“Why are you up so late, ma moitié?” He bent slightly to peer down at your face, his ever present smile more gentle than usual. You cast your eyes up to his, studying his face for a moment while you tempered your emotions and thought of a response.

“I could ask you the same thing,” You finally answered, averting your gaze when his piercing eyes became too much to look at. It hurt so bad to speak. You heard him chuckle, although it was empty of any real humor.

“You know better than anyone I don’t sleep much,” He responded, fingers trailing along the wooden carving of the back of your chair. His fingers eventually found themselves trailing onto your head and gently playing with your hair. A tense chill went through your body, but you allowed yourself to fall weak to his touch. You were always weak to him.

The intimate contact finally broke the dam of emotion you tried to reserve in order to maintain what little dignity you had in your broken state. You didn’t cry, but the tears that filled your eyes threatened to spill at any moment. You were embarrassed, but couldn’t help it in your sleepless state.

“Where have you been, Alastor,” You said, barely above a whisper. It had been days since the attack, and after his one on one with Adam he had completely disappeared. You didn’t know if you wanted to miss him or hate him for leaving you like that. You were sickeningly worried. He didn’t respond immediately, but you knew he heard you well enough when you saw his ears twist momentarily in the reflection and his expression shift.

“Let’s lie you down, first,” He offered, already moving to wrap his hands around your shoulders to aid in you standing up. As upset as you felt, you put up no fight and obeyed his touch as he guided you to your disheveled bed. He settled himself next to you, remaining propped up on an elbow as he peered down at you. You wished he would stop looking at you so hard, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious of your unwashed hair and swollen, bruised jaw. 

“I found myself in a similar state as you,” He eventually responded to your earlier question, his voice much quieter than you would ever expect from him. You were no stranger to the softer side of him, but it always came as a shock when his usual attitude is rather obnoxious and unserious. 

His fingers gently trailed at your wrapped up body, somehow knowing exactly where the stitches hid underneath the bandages. His hand reached your own, gently cupping it and pulling it towards his own body. You didn’t know how you hadn’t noticed before, but Alastor had his own set of bandages covering a bloody spot on his chest. 

You pulled your hand away from his and brought it up to cup his cheek. It took him a moment to accept the gesture, lightly pressing his head into your hand. 

“Why didn’t you come back to me?” You asked quietly. “After seeing Adam strike you, I was so worried you went off and bled out alone somewhere.”

Alastor grinned a little wider at your comment, but it soon fell to be quite small and strained.

“I was weak. I don’t want anybody seeing me like that—especially you, my dear. I had my own battle to face and I couldn’t come back until I felt a little more… sane.” 

You didn’t quite understand the latter half of his statement, but knew better to question him further. He likely wouldn’t open up any more anyway. You were slowly just accepting that he was back with you, which lifted a weight you forgot was even on your mind.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t protect you from your own fight,” He added after a few quiet moments, the sincerity in his voice poking at your already emotional heart. His arm had come to wrap protectively around your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. 

“I don’t need protection,” You spoke a bit stubbornly. You watched his eyes glance down at your battered torso before looking back up to you, but he made no further comment. “But I am glad you finally came back.”

He brought his head down, resting his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes and breathed in his familiar smell, almost overwhelmed with the comforting familiarity of it. You had managed to block out your worry about his absence for the past few days, trying to focus on your own recovery, and it had all come flooding back at once. Before he would have a chance to notice tears forming in your eyes, you aggressively threw your arms up and around him, pulling him down and closer to you as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

The uncertain tension in his body was dismissed when he felt a jolt of your body as you bit back a sob. He curled both of his arms around you, pulling you against himself while also bringing his legs up to cradle your curled up form.

The room was dead silent, the only movement being your shuddering body as you fought to stop yourself from crying. It hurt tremendously to cry, but the emotions you felt made it near impossible to stop. 

It was only when Alastor began threading his clawed hand through your hair were you able to calm yourself down. His touch was delicate, maybe a bit unsure, as he did his best to comfort you. You shifted impossibly closer to him, and in response he simply pulled you tighter to his body.

“Don’t do that shit again,” You whispered after the tears stopped flowing.

“Nothing in Heaven or Hell can keep me from you,” He promised, speaking as if he was challenging something to test that fact. You felt him shift for a moment before a light kiss was pressed on your forehead. You melted into the contact, finally falling silent as his gentle touch in your hair and against your skin lulled you into sleep.

[theartofwoompwoomp]

I never knew we could coexist together 

Shadow x reader

Summary : shadow is surprised to learns that humans understand grief. And he learns it from the human that’s the most tolerable and happiest in his life. 

———————————————————————

“Do you really think you could ever understand.” 

His voice ragged and tight from the anger. There’s no way anyone could understand what he lost. Especially not you…

You have everything. A happy family, friends, a place in this world. 

 he had nothing…

Sure others may have accepted him, yet it has never been the same and it hasn’t ever taken the pain.

Someone as happy as you wouldn’t and shouldn’t ever understand his pain. 

His grip getting tighter in his hand, he can feel himself shaking a bit as he lowers his eyes to the ground.

He feels bad for snapping at you. He wasn’t expecting to have all his pent up anger explode on you. Finally the shame starts crawling it’s way and he was getting ready to leave. He didn’t want to see your face.

Not right now, when he feels so angry with you even though you’re the only one thats stuck around. 

All his emotions are spinning all over his head just waiting for another opportunity to explode, and he does not want you to be at the end of it.

Without saying anything else, he keeps his head down as he turns to leave. 

But just as he’s a few steps away his are is pulled back quite forcefully towards you again.

“What do you think you’re doing—“

You hugged him.

Holding tight making sure you won’t let go of him. He tenses a bit not fully processing what you’re doing. 

Why are still trying? Why do you still care even if he hurt you? He doesn’t deserve you.

Before he realizes it, he’s holding you close as well. 

Nothing is said between either of you, he’s simply shaking a bit in your arms as you rub his back a bit.

Memories come back to him. Those of maria, his actions, and of you.

Small tears roll down his cheeks but he could care less at the moment. “It hurts.” His voice broken and tired from all the pain that never goes away.

You hugged him a bit tighter as you whisper a bit into his ears, “I know shads, i know.” Not daring to let go or abandon him in this moment, you wait it out. Feeling your own tears slowly dropping as well as his cries intensify.

He feels like he just got ran over, but at least you’re still there, holding him. Both of you more calmed down from the whole ordeal. 

He finally decides to let go from your embrace and you let him. 

He sits on the ground and you follow along and sit next to him. Just waiting to see who’ll be the first to speak.

Surprisingly after a few minutes shadow softly starts speaking, “i don’t want to talk about it.” His brows furrow a bit, “i appreciate your kindness, but I don’t like speaking about my pain.” 

He feels you caress his hand. “That’s okay,” holding it firmly when turns it offering you to continue your action of affection, “i understand that pain can be hard to share.”

He turns to see you, eyes glazing over you face wondering what ever could have caused you pain to make that expression.

“You might be surprised but humans suffer from many things. Some of us are just a little better at pretending nothing’s wrong.” 

“Doesn’t it hurt to do that?”

You look over, seeing his worry through his eyes. “Of course it does. Suffering is always painful.” Your eyes and hands never leaving one another. Sharing more emotions this way than any words could describe.

You lean a bit onto him, “but you know,” he reciprocates as you continue, “i think that’s a reason why there’s so many of us in the first place. Maybe so we could  help each other through the pain… it’s too bad many seem forget the value of this”

He shifts a bit as he feels you move again. This time you’re kneeling a bit in front of him. 

“That’s why I’m so glad that I at least have you in my life.”

His heart twinges a bit, feeling guilty for trying to ever push you away. And you notice it before he even says anything.

“Please don’t shut me out,” you’re hugging him again.

And he hugs you back, holding you softly as he feels your breath on his shoulder. Your actions and words melting all the doubt and numbing the pain. He’s comforted knowing that you’re not going nowhere, staying right there with him.

“Im glad that it’s you, and not anyone else at my side.” 

———————————————————————

masterlist

[illuminatedferret]

"At this point, I might as well just tell it to you straight. I've got a whole bunch of opinions about you." "Uh... well... I knew that already. For ages now," Xie Lian said. "Oh really?" Mu Qing said coldly. "Then do you know that I often thought you relied on your status too much- that even though you were His Highness the Crown Prince, even though you had good fortune, your skills weren't that much better than mine?" "..." "I also thought that you probably only liked doing all those good deeds for show, because you wanted all the praise and flattery. And that you only helped me because of that- I was the perfect subject for you to demonstrate your sympathy and kindness on. To be honest, some of my opinions haven't changed, even now." (Vol. 8, pg. 54-55)

This does not sound like a guy who has/had a good opinion of Xie Lian.

This sounds like a guy who thinks Xie Lian is an arrogant nepo baby who does good deeds for the optics. And while he mentions Xie Lian's circumstances, it's all couched in what Xie Lian is doing with them. If there is a place in the novel where I'm meant to take away that Mu Qing's issues with Xie Lian were actually with his circumstances, please point it out to me. Because from where I stand, it looks like Mu Qing spends most of the novel with a pretty poor opinion of Xie Lian. He definitely feels resentment over the (original) differences in their stations, but that resentment very clearly rolls over into his resentment regarding Xie Lian and what he sees Xie Lian doing with his station.

Not only that, we see him react positively more than once to Xie Lian suffering/doing bad things. He's a little "cheered" to learn Xie Lian's living in a shack (1.219). He's in an "excellent mood" when Xie Lian is put under house arrest, and he's "uncontrollably excited" to think Xie Lian is responsible for the Gilded Banquet Massacre (2.183). He's smug and passive-aggressive when they're talking about Xie Lian's past as General Hua (1.323) He also accuses Xie Lian of only offering to help 'his general' re: the fetus spirit in hopes of sabotaging his case (5.55). All this is to say, we see throughout canon that this guy does not think highly of Xie Lian. They parted ways on bad terms, and Mu Qing spent 800 years convinced Xie Lian hated him. It took him seeing Xie Lian again after 800 years and being hit in the face again and again with how good he is to finally start admitting both his negative opinions and that despite them, he still admires Xie Lian "more often than not." (8.55)

You also mention how Xie Lian and Mu Qing might have been different if they'd swapped places. But they do swap places!. Xie Lian spends 800 years scavenging for scraps with the worst luck possible. Mu Qing spends 800 years in the heavens, one of Thee most powerful men in the Three Realms. One stays kind and generous, the other stays skeptical and paranoid. Childhoods can be formative, yes, but there comes a limit on when we can attribute everything to a difficult childhood rather than a person's character, and the feasibility gets really stretched when we're talking about characters who have been alive for over 800+ years. TGCF definitely focuses more on nature rather than nurture, for good reason. It's a central theme of the novel.

TGCF makes it clear: to change or to stay the same are both choices. Staying the same is not a default action- often, (especially under pressure) it is an active choice someone makes. Mu Qing had 800 years to unpack his issues and grow as a person. He didn't. I find it both lazy and boring to throw everything about Mu Qing under the label of 'virtually sealed' because he had a difficult childhood, especially when we see none of said childhood. On top of that, you're assuming Mu Qing likely would have been a better person had he been in Xie Lian's position, but the opposite is just as possible- who's to say being a prince wouldn't have made him worse? Look at Qi Rong. Xie Lian's parents are permissive as hell. That Xie Lian turned out how he did speaks to his character, not the people around him. And in canon Mu Qing may dislike being compared to the Crown Prince he once served, but I imagine that if their positions were swapped, he would have hated even more being outshone by a mere servant.

Also, forgive me if this is unwelcome, but I feel like your argument would be much stronger if you relied on textual evidence from the book from phases of Mu Qing's life that we actually see- for example, I do believe that watching Xie Lian crash and burn in Book 2/4 definitely discouraged him from ever sticking his neck out for someone else. It would discourage me! But talking about Mu Qing's childhood as crucial for understanding him when we get maybe a few sentences about it isn't very compelling. Mu Qing is an interesting character with a lot of depth and complexity, but reducing him down to 'he couldn't help it, and it was always about their stations anyway' does him a disservice.

There's something to be said about how Mu Qing and Jun Wu both held these ideas about Xie Lian and who he really is as a person- specifically, that his kind and forgiving nature is a lie, and deep down he's actually just like them. These are ideas Mu Qing and Jun Wu spent centuries believing, refusing to be convinced otherwise until they had no other choice.

But that's where their similarities end. Because while Mu Qing resents Xie Lian for his good character, he also honestly admires him for it. Jun Wu, on the other hand, 'loves' Xie Lian, but grows angrier each time he's reminded of how different they really are. And so I think it's very fitting that when Mu Qing finally swallows his pride and admits his preconceptions and faults to Xie Lian, it's on the Heavens-Crossing Bridge, the literal wreckage of Jun Wu's hopes and dreams.

[thedeskofaltoclef]

How I became The Desk of Alto Clef.

My response to a SCP Group designed around Hate and Bigotry who have targeted me and others in this community.

Nah, man, my daughter is dead.

It has been brought to my attention that there is a group of people on the internet who are fascinated with my fascination of Alto Clef and Meri. Hurtful and yet cute in a way so I think now I'll choose this time and these screen grabs from their discord to explain how I came to be 'The Desk of Alto Clef'.

My Daughter died six years ago and it sent me spiraling deep into the bottom of whatever bottle I could find.

I was completely prepared to take my own life and even had the things to 'finish the job' because my life had no meaning at that point. What was another statistic going to matter anyways, right?

It was in one of these dark, drunk moments with a gun when I fell across the Volgun's video on 'reality benders and you' and fell into a rabbit hole.

Drunkenly I fumbled around the wiki and learned more about this broken man known as Alto Clef.

A man whom I could relate to in my own way. A man who, no matter what he did, could never see his daughter as I will never be able to see mine. So thus, I became a very, very shitty cosplayer.

I like to believe that over the past four years my acting ability has increased to a sustainable level and as much as I joke about things I do try to stay humble about it. Though I like to think I've become better but I digress.

I love the lore of Clef and Meri, on or offsite, to the point that I am weird about it I know, but that's how I stay connected to my daughter. Writing the Deskverse is how I stay connected to my daughter.

I am also autistic which causes me to hyper fixate on Clef as a coping mechanism.

Because of this group of people I have greatly considered leaving the community and going back to my own personal solitude. Acting, Voice Acting, Cosplaying as Clef gave and still gives me something to live for again. I may not be this group's cup of tea but I do like to believe that I have helped others. My main goal has always been to uplift those who need uplifting. I do not want anyone to ever feel how I felt in my lowest and darkest moments.

The main story in the deskverse is about a father and a daughter torn apart by the actions of an abusive mother. My real life story.

I also have ZERO clue as to why I am being involved with misogyny or yuri things. If I have offended you in any way I do apologize.

I do not plan on posting the more 'suggestive' or 'lewd' responses they have made. Overly sexualized content does make me extremely uncomfortable.

This group of people have broken my heart into pieces. Seeing this list of images and names dragging me through the mud has already smashed my unstable self-esteem as it is.

At this time I do not plan on releasing any names associated with all of this because I am honestly tired of reliving the most horrid event of my life over and over because I, for whatever reason, do not fit what this group feels is acceptable of an actor/writer/fan.

I cannot say the same for the others in which they were assaulting.

In summary Alto Clef is an outlet for the pain I live with every day. I can never see, hold, hear, smell, or speak to my daughter. I have scars on my body from her mother that will never allow me to forget that life I had. I will always remember the taste of gunpowder but thankfully my drunk ass was too weak. If your going to be bad at something, be bad at that I suppose.

I will leave all of this with a final image from the copious list and the one that honestly hurts me the most. I am honestly a shy and reserved person and frankly it takes a lot for me to get out of my comfort zone. Not long ago I went to another SCP discord server because I wanted to meet new people and someone in there was awesome. I truly enjoyed my time with this person and just found them amazing. They were kind, open, willing to listen to my ideas, and gushed over Numberonedoggo. I thought I had finally made a new friend on my own. I was apparently wrong.

Art, from some of my favorite artists, was made for the sole reason of mocking me specifically. To laugh at me for finding joy in something that gives me purpose. Something I use to drive away the darkness.

No age, disorder, illness, or reason at all can be acceptable for anyone to act in this way. You are all a mockery of everything the SCP community should stand for.

-TheDesk

[levisjinchuriki]

truly, madly, deeply - toji fushiguro

summary: since you left him, toji has been indulging in nothing but bad habits. he makes an impulsive decision stumbling home from the bar one night

warning: post-breakup angst, mentions of heavy drinking, depression, being numb, a whole lot of angst

it’s late—too late for toji to still be out. the bar is nearly empty, quiet except for the scraping sound of chairs as the staff begins their nightly routine of wiping tables and stacking stools. the bartender shoots toji an unimpressed glance as he sets down another glass of whiskey in front of him, grumbling about closing tabs soon. toji doesn’t argue, just wraps his calloused fingers around the glass and lets the amber liquid burn as it slides down his throat. it’s painful, but the familiar sting is something he’s come to crave recently. as much as it hurts, he tries to savor the taste before throwing some cash on the table and heading out.

it’s the kind of quiet that makes the weight in his chest feel unbearable, pressing harder against ribs that have long since forgotten what it’s like to feel light. 

he stumbles out of the bar, unsteady on his feet, muttering curses under his breath as he fumbles for his phone in his coat pocket. outside, the cold bites at his skin, the damp air clinging to him as the rain had never truly stopped. 

the screen glows dimly, the battery dangerously low, but it’s enough to illuminate the list of names he hasn’t touched in weeks. his thumb hovers over the screen, scrolling sluggishly past contacts that don’t matter. then he sees your name. and time stands still. 

for a long moment, all he can do is stare. his thumb trembles, hesitating, like his drunk mind is at war with itself. there’s a part of him that knows better, that knows he should put the phone back in his pocket and walk away. but the other part—the louder, more desperate part—wins. his thumb moves, and the call begins to ring.

once. twice. three times.

toji squeezes his eyes shut, already regretting his actions. he’s not your problem anymore. he lost the right to call you, to hear your voice, to ask for comfort. and yet, here he is, a fool hoping for a miracle at a time when no one should be awake.

“toji?”

he freezes. he hasn’t heard your voice in… how long has it been? the days have blurred together into a haze of alcohol and sleepless nights since you left. he grips the phone tighter, his throat suddenly dry.

“hey” he drawls. there’s a pause on your end. he cringes when he hears a muffled yawn from you. 

“it’s late. are you okay?”. your voice is soft, groggy from the sleep he undoubtedly pulled you from. his heart breaks at the sound of it. 

“yeah. -m fine. jus’….” he slurs. 

“toji… are you drunk?” your voice, laced with concern, strikes a nerve. you sound just as worried as it always did when it came to him, a tone he doesn’t think he deserves anymore. you’ve seen these parts of him before—the ones he hides from the world but somehow always let slip in front of you. 

“nah” he lies. “just a little… tipsy”. his feet shuffle clumsily against the wet pavement as he stumbles down the block. he feels everything and nothing all at once—silly, hopeless, in love, and heartbroken. 

“toji–” your voice is soft but unmistakably disappointed. it’s a tone he’s heard before, one that digs under his ski. he knows that sound. it’s the same one you used to have when he broke promises, when he let you down, when he let himself down.

there are countless reasons why you and toji aren’t together anymore—reasons that keep replaying in his mind whenever he has too much to drink. but none of those reasons stop you from caring about him, even now. and that makes it worse somehow.

“listen…” his voice drops lower, thick with the slur of alcohol. “i know it’s late. s’probably real stupid to call, huh?”. he laughs, but it’s half-hearted, a dry, almost painful sound.

your silence is heavy and suffocating. toji knows you’re probably shaking your head right now, caught between concern and frustration. he can picture it so clearly—how you’re probably biting your lip, wanting to say something but holding back. it almost makes him smile.

as the silence stretches, the sound of heavy rainfall in the background fills the space, a constant, rhythmic sound that matches the beat of his tired, aching heart.

“where are you?” you ask, your voice barely audible above the rain.

he blinks, his mind swimming in a fog that doesn’t seem to clear. he’s disoriented for a second, now realizing that he’s walked in the wrong direction. “why?” he mumbles, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“because i’m coming to get you” you reply, your tone gentle but firm. “you shouldn’t be out alone”. toji closes his eyes for a moment, your words sinking in, a warmth creeping through his chest despite the alcohol and the cold rain. he hears the shuffle of movement on your end of the line, and he can almost see it—the way you’re probably slipping into those ridiculous bunny slippers he always teased you about. 

a small, tired smile threatens to break through as leans back against a lamppost. “don’t bother” he mutters, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “i’m fine”. another lie, but he doesn’t expect you to believe it.

“tell me where you are” you demand. he’ll take your tone over no contact with you any day. 

“always so good. so… responsible” he mutters, the words slurring as his mind drifts. “you don’t gotta save me, y’know? i’m fine. always fine” he drags out.

“toji, tell me where you are” your voice is stern. it’s the same tone you used when he was in trouble, the same one you’d use when he messed up, the same one you used when you finally told him you were done.

he slumps against the cold, damp wall of the nearest building, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. he mutters the name of the street, barely audible, his words jumbled and ragged.

“i’m on my way” you tell him. there’s a brief pause before you add, “stay there”. for once, he listens. toji just stands there– drunk, stupid, soaked and numb to the rain as it continues to hit him. 

he doesn’t know how long it takes before your car finally pulls up. the headlights shine bright, momentarily blinding him. he blinks a few times and there you are—stepping out of the car, pulling a coat around yourself and wondering how he’s been out here this long. you look at him, and for a split second, toji sees everything he’s been trying to drown out. disappointment flickers behind your eyes, sharp and painful. but there’s something else there too—worry. 

“toji…” you sigh, a sound filled with exhaustion. he feels it in his chest like a punch. he’s happy to see you, but upset that you’re out here in the storm, chasing after him like this.

“you didn’t have to come” he mutters, but even as he says it, he stands up straighter—forcing himself to make the effort, even if it’s not convincing. his legs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead, but he tries to pull himself together. he doesn’t want you to see how much he’s been drowning.

your gaze doesn’t miss anything. he’s drenched, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to him, but worse than that—he’s drunk. and sad. more sad than he’s let on, even to himself. he knows it. you know it. it’s clear to you both that he hasn’t been taking care of himself—not in the way you always hoped he would.

“get in the car” you say, the command simple but firm. your voice is steady, unaffected by the storm, and it somehow cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

he doesn’t argue. not with you. not when you’re looking at him like that, not when he knows you’re right, and you’ve always been right about him.

---

the drive is quiet at first. the only sound is the soft hum of the heat, keeping toji from succumbing to hypothermia, and the rain as it taps steadily against the windshield. toji sits slouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes half-lidded as he stares out the window. his gaze is distant, unfocused—lost in the mess of his own thoughts.

“you shouldn’t drink like this,” you say, breaking the silence. your voice is soft but firm. “it’s dangerous.”

toji doesn’t respond immediately. you can see the way his jaw tightens, his shoulders stiffen just slightly. he’s a big guy, tough, but even toji has his limits. he might not show it, but you know how close he is to the edge. and tonight, it’s clear that he’s just a few drinks away from being completely inebriated.

“don’t start with me” he mutters, his voice rough with frustration. you’ve heard that tone before—the one he gets when he’s pushed, when he knows he’s in the wrong but doesn’t want to hear it.

you sigh quietly to yourself, knowing exactly where this conversation is going. you’d always had a habit of acting like his mother, trying to take care of him, trying to get him to listen to reason. it’s inevitable, really—toji always acted like a child in so many ways, and you, stubborn as you are, always fell into the role of the one who tried to save him.

“how many times have i—” you begin, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

“i know!” he snaps, his voice sharper than he means it to be. “i know, alright?”

the words hang in the air between you, heavy with the tension that always lingers when the two of you argue. you’re quiet for a moment, the only sound now the swish of the windshield wipers fighting against the rain.

you grip the steering wheel a little tighter, steadying yourself. the urge to push, to argue further, is strong, but you know better than to start that fight now. the last thing he needs is more words thrown at him, more of your frustration tangled up in his guilt.

right now isn’t the time to argue.

"then why?" you ask quietly, your voice barely rising above the sound of rain hitting the car.

toji presses his head back against the seat and lets out a humorless laugh. “why not?” he replies, his words slurred but sharp enough to sting.

you furrow your brows. he’s being difficult, like always—pushing you away with his deflection, his refusal to take anything seriously. “that’s not an answer” you say, glancing at him briefly before returning your eyes to the road.

toji turns his head to look at you then, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the car. the streetlights outside streak shadows across his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness etched into his features. he looks tired—not just from tonight, but from everything.

“i don’t owe you an answer” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now.

it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything, not after everything. not after the way you left, after the way you shattered him. you feel a pang of guilt in your chest, sharp and unforgiving, but you push it down.

“i’d still like to know” you admit, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.

he doesn’t respond right away. instead, he turns his gaze back to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. the silence stretches between you again, heavy and unyielding, but you don’t press him further. you’ve learned by now that toji won’t be pushed into answers he’s not ready to give.

the road ahead blurs slightly through the rain, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to bridge the distance between the two of you.

he scoffs, turning his gaze back to the window. “what’s the point?”. it’s not a question meant for you—it’s one he’s been asking himself for a while now. you chew on your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say next, though you’re not sure anything will make a difference.

“you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself” you finally sigh.

toji snorts, a bitter sound that cuts through the tension. “yeah? and who’s gonna help me? you?”

the sharpness in his tone catches you off guard, and you flinch despite yourself. his words hit harder than they should, not because they’re unfair, but because they’re true. you left. you made the choice to walk away, and now you’re here, pretending you can fix something that might never be fixable.

he notices. if there’s one thing toji’s always been good at, it’s noticing things, even when he’s drunk and falling apart. he exhales heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “sorry” he mutters, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t mean that”.

you know he didn’t. toji’s harsh words were never the ones that hurt the most—it’s the truth buried in them that stings.

“it’s fine” you reply quietly, your gaze fixed on the road ahead. but it’s not fine, and you both know it.

neither of you says anything for the rest of the drive. the rain continues to tap against the windshield as the distance between you grows wider.

---

toji doesn’t move after you park your car. he just sits there, staring blankly at the dashboard like it holds answers to questions he’ll never ask. his shoulders are slumped, his jaw tight. even with the alcohol dulling his senses, his thoughts refuse to let him rest.

“you wanna go inside?” you turn to look at him, suppressing the urge to reach over.

he blinks, the question pulling him back to the present. “yeah” he mutters, but his body remains rooted to the seat.

you don’t rush him. moments like these are rare—when toji lets you see him vulnerable. it’s heartbreaking, and it makes you ache in ways you thought you’d forgotten.

instead of pressing him, you wait. he’s always been a man who needs time to gather himself. and tonight, for whatever reason, he’s letting you stay long enough to witness it.

eventually, he exhales, a slow, shaky breath that seems to release some of the tension coiled in his chest.

finally, toji looks at you. really looks at you. his eyes are glassy, the alcohol making them more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time.

“you’re too good for this” he says, his voice heavy with sadness. it’s not just the words that hit you—it’s the way he says them, like he’s admitting something he’s been too scared to face. for the first time, toji acknowledges there’s something wrong with him. that something is his fault.

“for what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“for me” he says almost defeated. “i’m no good. i’m just… this” he gestures vaguely at himself, his hand falling back to his side as if the effort of even that small movement is too much.

it’s clear in the way he’s looking at you that he means it. that he’s thought about this, felt it deep in his bones. you’re not sure if he’d ever admit it sober, but tonight, it’s out there in the open.

you don’t know what to say to that. words feel inadequate, like they’ll only make things worse. 

“you should get some rest” you whisper instead. “it’s late”.

toji releases a breath, his gaze shifting to your apartment building. he’s been here countless times before. but it’s different now. where he used to feel at home, he suddenly feels like a stranger. 

“okay”. his footsteps echo softly behind you.

when he walks in, all the memories come rushing back. the faint scent of the candle you always light fills his nose. the throw blanket draped over the couch is in the same place it’s always been. even the little details—the spaces in your home where you’d made room for him—are still there. his boots still sit by the door, his favorite mug in the cabinet, the sweatshirt he thought he’d lost folded neatly.

you lead him to your room without a word, offering him a towel and setting a pair of dry clothes on the bed. they’re his– clothes he left behind when things fell apart. you didn’t have the heart to throw them out, and he didn’t have the heart to come back for them.

“you’ll get sick” you mutter, setting a black shirt and grey sweats on the bathroom sink before turning to leave. you always fussed over him like this—still do, even now. toji doesn’t know what to do with the tight ache in his chest. he wants to cry.

by the time he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in warm clothes, he hears the hum of the dryer from the hallway. of course, you’d snuck in while he was washing up to scoop his sopping clothes off the floor.

in your room, you’re finishing fixing the bed, smoothing the sheets and adding extra pillows—just the way he likes. it doesn’t escape him, the way you still remember these small details.

“i can take the couch” he says, his voice low and reluctant.

you shake your head, dismissing the offer as you grab a pillow and blanket for yourself. “sleep” you say firmly, leaving no room for argument.

he hesitates for a moment, but the exhaustion weighing on him makes it hard to fight back. his body aches for rest, and though a part of him wants to address the unspoken words that hang heavy between you, he knows it’s not the time. 

“we’ll talk later” you whisper as you step toward the door, your hand brushing the light switch.

toji watches you for a moment, standing there in the dim glow of the hallway. his throat tightens, and he wants to say something—anything—but no words come out. instead, he nods silently as you turn off the light and leave him alone in the room.

“thanks” he murmurs, his voice so quiet it’s almost lost in the stillness of the room. but you hear it.

toji lies awake in the bed you once shared, staring at the ceiling. the familiarity of it all threatens to undo him—the soft sheets, the faint scent of you lingering on the pillow. it’s overwhelming. 

he wonders, not for the first time, how someone like you ever loved him. the thought twists in his chest, sharp with regret. he thinks about how things ended, how he pushed you away, and yet here you are—offering him kindness he doesn’t deserve.

the bed feels empty without you beside him, but as his heavy eyelids finally close, he clings to the comfort of your lingering presence. it’s enough, for now, to ease the ache as he drifts off to sleep.

---

to be continued... thank you for reading!!!

[glitter-stained]

Another day another ask mysteriously disappearing from my inbox when i'm about to hit post on the reply

Anyway the question was basically "what do you think of the "Jason isn't able to get over his death while bruce is capable of forgiving joe chill and sitting by him as he dies" take and doesn't it sound a little like the "everybody died he ain't special " take?"

Why yes. Yes it does sound like that. My thoughts on that idea, in no particular order:

- it's almost 2025 are we still placing moral judgement on characters based on the comparison between how they're enduring their trauma what happened to the universal singularity of human suffering what happened to not comparing apples and bananas weren't we taught not to do that in elementary school

-Is this about the Three Joker comics? It sounds like it is, anyway uh that comics is not mainline (and has pretty shitty writing imo), in mainline even in his least flattering runs (ie Battle for the Cowl) Jason hasn't gone postal because of his death in a while (in BTFC it was Bruce's death and the mention of the "unresolved dark horrors of his childhood" triggering a bad parody of some sort of psychotic break) so like i guess criticizing Jason for something he isn't doing is kinda strange

-if anything Bruce is the one "not over" Jason's death considering the flashback he had right at the beginning of Failsafe arc (though of course demanding he just gets over the trauma of holding his dead son's corpse is just as absurd as demanding Jason gets over the trauma of having died)

-honestly staying by Chill's side as he died was pretty cool and heroic on Bruce's part, totally agreed, that was badass of him to not let him die alone despite his trauma. That being said can we please stop tying morality to the concept of forgiveness? Implying there's a goodness of heart to forgiving/getting over your trauma is weird, it way too puch pressure on the victim, we should stop with the "good victim/bad victim" narrative, martyrdom culture is harmful. If forgiving Chill helped Bruce, cool for him, Jason is in no obligation to forgive Joker, and also Bruce forgiving Chill =/= staying by his side as he died, those are two separate things

-if we're comparing coping we have to compare resources, what does Jason's support system at that time compared to Bruce? Should we make a tally to see who has more friends especially close ones? We both know who will win but also that it's a completely stupid and pointless arrangement, how many apples and oranges must we compare before we conceptualize that it's not the same fruit?

-in terms of personal taste, I find placing moral judgement on characters is about the least interesting analysis angle I can imagine, like, congrats, you've established Angel McPerfect is a better person than Asshole McInteresting! Now multiply me by one and subtract zero.

-kinda hilarious to criticise Jason for not getting over his death and compare that to the coping of a man who dresses as a bat to cope with something that happened thirty years ago. Like if he's so over his trauma why is he wearing pointy ears

-also, obviously, the idea that characters should just "get over their trauma" is insanely dumb. Trauma is like a wound. It can scar, if treated properly, and then the scar will always be there. Imagine telling someone they should get cosmetic surgery because "we get it, you got stabbed, you don't have to shove it in my face every time I look at you." Or telling someone whose wound got infected "why can't you be more like this guy? Look, his stab wound is all healed nice and clean by now. It's like you're not even trying !"

Anyway I hope that answers your question and you have a good day anon, I agree with you that that take is weird, I truly don't understand the reasoning beside "i don't like jason". Idk maybe these people just need to...chill.

[mikokiara]

episode 18 is my favorite example of it.

I know your thoughts about it, and I'll tell you, I don't think its bland. I think its very heartwarming. I think it does a perfect example of showing how much despite of EVERYTHING that was left unsaid they still look out for the other, they still try to set things right. So much is happening, they are death, but even in these moments they choose to support each other. Mic looks at taco before the race starts, a taco that is out of it at first, she looks at pickle and she becomes unfocused and distracted and nervous but then they start running and its mic the one who slowly becomes more distracted and completely stop, let me tell you I absolutely adore the imagery of the mic thing because its so good the way they showcase how she feels. Mic is being shown screaming beside an upset test tube and disapppointed taco trying to make herself be heard, she stops for a moment and then sadly lowers her head. It tells us what we know, and is that ontop of her view of self depending on others she doesn't feel heard- or rather SEEN, and it makes her stop, exhausted and tired, she stops trying, both in the vision, and in the race. And then taco comes by and she holds her hand. Without words I think she is telling her she is there, she hears her, she SEES her, she is telling her: ''I am sorry for not doing this before, but I see you now, I hear you now, its alright, you're alright lets do this together…okay?'' a small act of reassurance, taco is not good with words when it comes to apologies but I think she does show you she is sorry through actions. And this is a good example of it. They didn't had the time to talk and hell mic didn't even said she forgave her or anything but, she still extended her hand at taco. And taco in these moments, is doing the same. Returning the favor, and they run together, run and try to survive and aid the others who are trying to do the same.

and then it comes to the ending, where cobs is death. And taco with a low voice asks for mepad's whereabouts, and is met with the soul crushing truth. He is death. And she cannot help but fall onto her knees in pure and raw pain, another thing that showcases mic cares for taco is her putting a hand on her shell visibly angry not only that mepad is death, but that they killed somebody important for taco. Its meant to parallel the minecart scene, mic who was upset about knife causing her distress, is now upset that this monster caused taco's friend to die, and we get to the part with pickle! I think if you guys wanted taco to not be forgiven or ''face the consequences'' (which she already did but alright) then pickle is there for a reason. Mic and pickle narratively speaking are meant to parallel the way people will react to an apology, some may take more time to forgive you but still show you kindness and others will wish to never see you again and both options are okay. It goes well with the message taco as a character is meant to convey and that I am upset you are taking away here. Yes she can get better, but I think she can get better with people around her. Mic didn't said she forgave her, but she still showed her kindness, which is what taco in a vulnerable situation lost and not knowing what to do grieving over the lost of her ex-best-friend she didn't got to properly apologise to needed. And hear me out I do not think that's a BAD thing. And I don't think it would have been good narratively speaking to let taco have the ending you are portraying here.

taco as a character herself gives off so much hope, is a new start like she says on her song while mic gently holds her hand and leads her away from the spotlight. The game? is gone, she has finally a chance to heal. And I think the ending you are trying to give her is cruel and vile. Mic is not doing much aside from giving this woman who is hurt and grieving a shred of a kindness. I think in this case is all she needs to get better, she hurt her. But that doesn't mean she is broken and horrible forever and has to isolate from everyone around her. The desire to not be her friend again despite everything was PICKLE'S but not mic's. I think what I dislike so much is that you disregard mic's care for her in this and by consequence you also disregard's knife who was said already to be someone tht understood her more personally. I don't think he would have done this, he was the one who told her that she had to face her truths to get better. It was something harsh and blunt but I believe it came from a place of care, knife is blunt, but knife is also caring. Knife cares for taco, frowned when he saw her on the ground clutching onto the grass as she says expresses how she thought she wasn't going to be brought back. He understands her more than anyone and wants her to get better, he doesn't pamper her or is gentle, he had to say what he said in episode 15 in a way it would get through taco. Which did! she is hesitant, and scared, and really just wants to run away but she is facing her truths, and trying her best to apologise because she wants to get better too, and it was said in a stream that although not having much evidence to it brian wants to believe taco cares for knife as well.

I think this ending is just so painfully cruel and from narrative standpoint really BAD.

and it comes to what pisses me off most of all taco, tacomic AND THE POWERFUL MESSAGE THEY CONVEY BEING TAKEN AWAY.

taco and tacomic have us know that sometimes you will do things you regret you will dug yourself so deep into a hellhole that you fear there is no escape from. But the show tells her, and tells these people as well you CAN get better you just gotta try, and some people may not want anything to do with you, and some people may take a while to forgive you, but they still will lend a kind hand to you and both outcomes are okay. Mic may not have forgiven taco fully, but she is still kind to her, because what you seem to want to try to erase is that she CARES. She cares for taco, and wants her to heal. We know what happens when taco isolates herself, she already spent a long time lonely, without nobody to hold onto, she just lost a friend dear to her and she is grieving and so fucking hurt. I think its not bad she wants a place to stay, I think taco and mic still do have things to talk about but they look up and want to stay hopeful and brian himself thinks that they deserve to heal too. That they shouldn't stay in the dark forever and that they should learn to live in this new place they call home.

people find hope in this message, people find comfort in this message, that things can still be fixed. So it makes me, more than angry, sad, that you are taking this away from not only taco but from all these people. I do not think this is a good ending, I think this is a very bad ending. I think taco and her relationship showcase the nuance that all of this has and how complicated and messy it is, its more than an 'abuser' and a 'victim'. Because taco is not an abuser, she is a woman with cluster b disorder who is trying to heal. And I don't think the canon ending is as bad as you make it out to be, I think its a good ending for her, I think its a hopeful ending and I think you guys should learn to respect mic's canon decision, alongside with the writers' decision. Because it was never your decision to go through, it was the writers, and by consequence it was mic's too. I think you guys should respect that. I think you guys should accept that taco being lend kindness is not a bad thing. I think you guys should accept that her situation is not as hopeless and you seem to think it is, also. People don't really hate her, soap gently patted her shell and although looking out for mic and threatening her like every good bestie does she still smiled and welcomed her to her life and respected mic's decision (which I am seeing knife doesn't here but alright). And I don't think mic is uncomfortable with taco at all, again they have issues to sort through but that doesn't make them hopeless or doomed or bad or whatever words you want to use. I think that makes them funnily enough human and realistic, and in my case I feel they are the most realistic semi-canon queer representations I've seen. And it makes me so sad that taco and mic characters who have been so important to me who mean so much to me who I have been obsessed since I was fucking 12 years old are being mischaracterized and just, ignored. And that the amazing hopeful message the writers had for them to be disregarded. I don't want that message to be lost for people like you and I don't know what you think I don't know how you feel but I hope really hope someday maybe someday you'll be able to appreciate them and their friendship more.

until then I don't think we'll cross paths again, but see you.

see you never, alligator.

comic about taco leaving ii for good (and respecting mic's and pickle's wishes via leaving their lifes) and actually moving on, and knife helps her realize that she needs to do that.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

(DATV thoughts with spoilers ahead; i think my tags will keep it filtered but just in case it doesn't since i dont want this in the actual game tags)

i just... man. i don't have a well formulated thought for this yet (and its my PERSONAL OPINION and other people can feel as different as they want, this is not an attack) but it keeps bouncing around my head, so. i know the popular thing right now is coming up with in-universe justifications for The Pantry Almost-Kiss Scene in ways that imply Lucanis didn't mean it/it doesn't represent him as a person/he was Faking It.

and i just don't like any of them. they make me sad!!!!!! i don't like the idea that one of the like 4 romance scenes we get in this game is him Pretending in some way, even if he does at that point like Rook back at least somewhat. None of the justifications i've seen make me feel Better about that being the point where we declare him as a romantic interest, which is what it is in the game, functionally. It doesn't lock you in yet but that point IS where the game says "they will take your flirting more seriously now". I did those same scenes for Davrin, Emmrich, and Taash and this is the formula the game uses (the "interrupted almost-kiss/confession" happens for almost all of the companions).

so if the answer for Lucanis' is "actually he stopped because he Didn't like what he was doing/feel that way yet" or that he felt he had to pretend for Rook's sake... it's kind of a letdown you know? esspecially when it comes right after what seems like an actually authentic moment (dispelling his "perfectly gathered clouds of doom"). Because, at that point in the game from my/Rook's perspective, it was like he finally was reciprocating. It made me hope that he'd acknowledge whatever was between him & Rook more in future scenes, especially because you get so little else from him at any other point, in terms of flirting back/showing you he IS interested. like up to that point I felt kind of bad for continuing to flirt at him, when he'd just change the subject right after! if someone did that in real life i would take it as a hint to stop. This is pixels and not real people so I didn't but they have done "reluctant/fearful interest" better in other characters if that's truly what they were going for in this one.

so after finishing the romance and getting the rest of content... idk. I don't like saying "one of the major chunks of characterization we get needs to be Thrown Out Actually because he was Pretending". because it's not like he or Rook ever actually address it in game--you just don't get to talk about feelings until some dialogue choices only in the act 3 romance scene, and then his speech at endgame (not even a full conversation, so much as his personal declaration). like it takes until the VERY end of the game for him to say the thing about "he was afraid to want you", but that comes after you've already hooked up, even.

I think truly what annoys me is that it's a story choice that can only make sense in HINDSIGHT not AS PLAYING. Only once you have all the scenes can you say "this one is out of character" and then you either have to accept it as bad writing, or come up with some in-universe justification to explain it... and so far none of the in universe ones feel good to me. i wish they did because maybe then I'd be less annoyed, rip. but at the end of the day i think even if there was some intent there, it was a poor choice for his story arc, because it doesn't effectively convey anything... and the reason why we can project a lot of different explanations onto it is simply because it is never addressed again (and again, Lucanis Dellamorte is NOT A PERSON he is a CHARACTER used to further a story for you the player, and so the reasons I don't like this choice are story-level and not a dig at how real life people feel or act).

So yeah at the end of the day. that is simply not a narrative device I would ever personally use in this way on a player/reader. certain kinds of hindsight revelations have their place (see: what the devs tried to do with Varric though I also think that falls apart on close inspection, but at least it has justification in-universe), but for a romance it just makes me embarrassed for Rook. In a game where you don't have nearly as many back-and-forth conversations with characters and have to resort to eavesdropping on them talking to each other, it's sad that one of the like 5 times you actually get to talk to Lucanis one on one we're maybe supposed to believe he wasn't being authentic, and also that Rook can't respond to this ever. It would be different if it had any kind of follow up, imo. or honestly as i've said before i would rather it have been swapped out with something entirely different or where we get to talk about their feelings instead, before i get labeled as one of the "people mad he's not Zevran 2.0/a sexy latin sterotype".

But having to step back to player-level analysis versus in-character analysis when looking at his whole romance arc just feels sloppy. but i'd much rather stick to "bad writing" than "intentional character choice" in terms of how to interpret the scene I guess, at this point, for poor Rook's sake. and i know people disagree with when I've said that before bc as much as I love Mary Kirby in other areas, she has said many times that she doesn't like writing romance, and I think it really does show here. As much as I love Lucanis and the scraps we got I wish I didn't have to do so much filling-in-the-blanks on our own.

[wrathofrats]

Let Me Slip Inside Your Ultraviolet Disguise

Mountain/Rain, explicit

Merry Christmas @forlorn-crows (:

Rain gave him a soft closed lip smile. His hands reached to overlap mountains that sat at the hem of his sweats, simply rubbing his hands over the fabric. He had never had his tentacle actually inside of anyone. Sure, maybe countless mouths but this? This was different. More intimate and strange in rains mind. No one else had something like this.

Maybe that’s what made it more exciting. The ability to feel something no one else could.

Or, mountain rides rains tentacle for the first time.

Small warnings for t4t, rain has top surgery, mountains big naturals, cunt and clit and folds used for both of their anatomy’s, tentacles, it’s literally all fluff

Read under cut or on Ao3

“Could I try?” Mountain sat back on his heels, biting his lip. Rain didn’t meet his gaze, instead opting to pick at a loose thread from the pillowcase. His sweatpants were double tied around his waist, probably stolen from Swiss or simply bought to be a size too big. The extra room was comforting.

Mountain pulled at the drawstring, simply wrapping his finger around and pulling for the first knot to come undone. Rains shirt had rode up to expose the soft part of his stomach. It wasn’t that rain didn’t want this, but the nervousness settled inside him like a rock. Heavy and uncomfortable as mountain continued to toy with the hem of his pants, careful not to brush over his skin as to not seem like he’s trying to take it too far.

“Are you sure? It’s just ..” rain finally plucked the stray piece, throwing it onto the floor before finally looking back up at mountain, “isn’t it weird?”

“Do you want it to be weird? Dew sometimes likes it better when I treat him like that” the last knot came undone, letting the sweatpants slouch a bit more under rains tummy. It wasn’t meant to be weird, it was just rain, that’s all mountain needed.

“No, I don’t think so. Can you just ..” Rain trailed his thought off, the combination of not exactly knowing what he wanted to say and not being able to get the words out even if he did. Mountain knew though, knew him better than he knew himself, rain was pretty sure. Even if mountain didn’t know what he needed, he trusted him to take care of him anyways.

“I’ve got you waterlily”

Rain gave him a soft closed lip smile. His hands reached to overlap mountains that sat at the hem of his sweats, simply rubbing his hands over the fabric. He had never had his tentacle actually inside of anyone. Sure, maybe countless mouths but this? This was different. More intimate and strange in rains mind. No one else had something like this.

Maybe that’s what made it more exciting. The ability to feel something no one else could. Rain watched mountain undress in front of him, pulling his shirt over his head with a crack in his back, the amber sunset making his skin look almost golden. There was no flair in the way he took his clothes off, something almost domestic in the prospect of not showing off. It made Rain feel more at ease.

Mountain turned back around to focus on rain once his pants were in a careless heap on the floor along with his sweater. He only added to the mess, neatness not a virtue of his but especially not when he needed to focus on the water ghoul in front of him. The sweats and thin t shirt that rain had on were quickly discarded, leaving him in the same vulnerable state. Delicate scars decorated his chest, ones that mountain found it almost impossible not to kiss and rake his teeth over whenever he got the chance.

The prospect of different tasted funny on rains tongue. Something bitter but not exactly bad. Sure, they had done things countless of times before but there was no plastic or silicone involved this time, not some quickie in a dark corner with mountains fingers shoved deep inside of him. The idea of being inside of mountain was for some reason intimidating, either just because of anxiety or the small amount of fear that mountain would get freaked out and stop.

Suddenly a large hand rubbed over rains thigh, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts once again.

“Don’t think too hard, ok? I can practically hear your thoughts rainy. Im excited that you get to be my first time” there was a small chuckle to mountains voice, as if he was being half ironic to lighten the mood a bit.

“Your first time? Thought you were supposed to be the experienced one. Lead me through my first time”

“It can be both our firsts then. Together. How about that?” Mountain leaned over rain, pressing his lips softly to rains own. Chaste, even if he lingered for a moment over him.

Rain snorted and pushed against mountains chest to get him to sit up right again. Sappy fucker. An intimate experience even if mountain was exaggerating a little bit for the sake of the mood. Mountain knelt between his legs, hands rubbing closer and closer to his folds. Rain was already a little slick, mountain had the tendency to get him like that without doing much.

“Gotta coax her out” Rain practically whispered, almost sheepishly.

“She loves me” mountain spread rain open and thumbed at the smooth patch of skin right below his clit. Something wriggled beneath it, the tip of rains tentacle emerging from its sheath, “see, didn’t think she would take much convincing”

It slowly pushed itself out and wrapped around mountains hand. Surely just searching for warmth but still a bit endearing, especially with how the flush on rains face grew watch the whole ordeal.

“Come on- don’t just play with it, said you’d take care of me”

Mountain gave a playful roll of his eyes before moving his hips to be flush with rains. He used his free hand to open himself up, spreading his lips to rub the tentacle along his cunt hoping it would take. Rain is sure he started drooling. Thick hair from his navel down his thighs but pretty pink between them, warm and wet. It was hard not to completely zone out staring at him. A bit of hair covered his chest as well, large breasts bouncing slightly with every move and god mountain was just beautiful.

The tentacle removed itself from mountains hand before slowly pushing inside of him. The two released a punched out groan in tandem, mountain slamming his hips down with a tight grip on rains waist. Rain was right, he felt fucking perfect. Silky and soft inside, absolutely tighter than he thought he could be but it was all entirely new. His mouth fell open and eyes screwed shut, tangling his fists in the sheets below him to hold on to a semblance of reality as his tentacle explored mountain from the inside.

Sweet little suckers pumped in and out, practically kissing the rim of mountains hole. He rocked back and forth, working up to ride him in earnest. Rain had never seen him like this before, sure he had mountain ride him countless times but this was, again, different. His eyes were practically in the back of his head and his thighs shook with every small downstroke. His long hair fell into his face as he threw his head forward, giving a low moan seeing how rains tentacle entered him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful waterlily”

[yooniesim]

Just wanted to let you know that tearybite might be making some good points but shes over on twitter acting the fool throwing the R slur about on the daily and interacting positively with transphobic and ableist accounts.

There are better people out there making the same points. This girl is just mack with a dental plan.

Nonny, im going to sue you for making me look on fucking twitter smh. it's like i can feel the terminally online virus entering my veins 🤢

anyway, I'm all for getting the truth out, but what we're gonna do is try to be accurate in our claims bc atp I hate random people the internet just saying whatever they want because they dunno how to compare bad behavior accurately. Mack was an extremely fucked up bigot that was openly racist, ableist, transphobic, targeting black & trans ppl specifically, and harassed many people on this & other platforms for months at a time. What we're not gonna do is compare anyone to that freak without sufficient evidence to back up that claim. Ppl can have levels to their shittiness so let's remember that first. Unlike Mack, I'm... hoping she'll have a genuine change...? 😭 (inb4 my hope for ppl gets destroyed yet again)

Now... when I went on Twitter and skimmed, what i saw was an account that seemed to make fun of some transphobic/awful ppl (nick fuentes, djt) at times, but an... overall concerning amount of slurs and questionable vibes. Now idk what her story is, idk if she's trans and/or autistic & doing the reclaimed thing or if she genuinely just throws slurs around bc she thinks it's ok for some awful reason, but yeah. I'm kinda getting the vibes that she could be autistic (hence the referring to herself/inward with the slur at times) but i just personally don't really like ppl throwing that shit around flippantly like that. Plus the trans shit and tweet re: white sins gave me a specific ick. I'll post what I saw & let yall judge for yourselves and if she wants to respond she can, or not. She said shes a lurker on my page so I'm sure she'll see this. I'm thankfully not online enough there to say if the other accounts she interacts with are known bigots or not so I can't really say on that. Is she as bad as Mack? I don't think so. But it's a lil... it's a lil ick ngl.

(tw for r slurs, trans related slur, yt ppl, kinda weird vibes idk)

Edit: there's more that I missed, seems like there's a lot of dogwhistles and shit. I haven't been online enough lately/on Twitter enough to recognize it all but yeah. It's giving Terf vibes too. Ick.

[velvetvexations]

since i know the other side, in both good and bad faith, looks at your blog, i do have a question for them; let's posit that men categorically and universally are not oppressed as the ideology states, with the "splash damage" hypothesis and all. sure. definitionally, how do you define a man/masc/whatever you want to specify here, in a way that does not define any other gender or presentation of gender? what is Man?

it's not the testosterone unless you're very cruel to pre-transition trans women, or women that use t cream for various reasons. it's not genitalia or boob growth for the same reason. certainly not skin texture or hair for the same reason. so lets rule out personal body choices; i feel we can agree those are an individuals choice.

is it just saying you're a guy or using he/him pronouns? what about trans girls before they even know it's an option for them to transition? do you think trans women cannot be butches and want to use he/him some or all of the time? how do you intend to stop the girls who do? what about the women who don't necessarily identify as always having been women? especially when you transition later in life, that lived experience isn't wrong to have. is a woman who says she was a man someone who was privileged and now is not, or is she also exempt forever? do you care if she feels differently?

how do you separate what someone internally feels, which you cannot know, from what they physically show you and tell you? i boymode at my job; i AM physically transitioning, but i just keep saying i am a man. would you respect what i tell you? would you treat me like a man on the days i shave my face because i asked you to, or would you treat me like a woman because you think you know what i want better than i do?

where is Man? what is Man? you cannot define genders out of each other, i don't think; there's more diversity within the individual groups than between them. they regress to the average. Woman is not what is leftover when you remove Man from a person.

The answer they'd give is "someone who has male privilege." It's tautological as hell.

[sulumuns-dootah]

21. 12. Beleth - Firewood

      ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆

A/N: The longest paragraph in this one is about Beleth's ass... Merry Christmas, you're welcome :D

      ༺☆༻

The cabin in mountains was perfect. A perfect place for your getaway with Beleth and Belphegor, who you're not even sure, knew about the whole thing.

“So, we've got everything we need...” Beleth comes into the main - and only room of downstairs after dropping the king off into the bed in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

“Uh... I don't think there might be enough firewood to last us even the night. “ you anxiously look at the rather small pile of wood by the grand fireplace. For some reason, despite knowing that there's no way you'll freeze to death, you still felt uneasy.

“Huh..? Wait, lemme start the fire and I'll tell ya.” the fallen angel looks in the same direction as you. After a short pause he kisses your cheek and strides towards the pitch black hole in the wall, getting down on his knees.

To put your mind at ease, you turn around to inspect the contents of the fridge, which should be full of food as the brochure advertised. And it really is. Somehow, it's even filled with all the snacks and drinks you like.

Behind you, you can hear the floor creak as well as a few grunts from Beleth. You look back at him a few times and no wonder he's grunting so much. Those tight pants have to be uncomfortably cutting into his muscles. Or so you guess from how skin tight they are in the position he's in. Too bad you have your phone in your bag upstairs currently, because the sight in front of you could rival even Sitri's and Zagan's ass.

“Yeah...you're right. Won't even last until sunset.” Beleth suddenly gets up and turns around to look at you like he can exactly read your mind.

“I uh... The owner said something about logs outside..?” you try to act natural, but your pink cheeks betray you.

“Hm? Guess you better go chop some then!” the fallen angel looks at you deadly serious.

You whole body freezes and you can't help but look at the tall demon like a deer in a headlights. He wants you??? to chop??? the wood? When you can't even measure up to his strength???

Beleth holds your eye contact for a few seconds and then his head falls back as he starts laughing, “Aw, didya really thought I'd have ya do that, toots?”

“Beleth!” you angrily whine and hit the demon on one of his pecs when he continues to laugh at your embarrassment for a bit too long.

“Real sorry, sugar.” still laughing, he winks at you and lightly slaps your ass before shedding his blazer and leaving the cabin to prepare some more firewood.

Still angry at him, you walk to the window so you can glare at him as he's working, but your glare completely disappears from your face once you see how tightly his shirt hugs his muscles as he swings the heavy axe around.

      ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"I keep wonderin' how'd ya look like with a halo, angel. Good thing I happen to have one on hand right here!"

[alfascorpiionux]

The dilemma of Moon in Sagittarius

What do you mean I am not allowed to do something? That you forbid me from being myself? The only restrictions I see are those I set for myself. And if you think you mean enough that I’d be submissive to you, you are wrong.

These are natives that yearn for freedom, in multiple dimensions of their life. They are idealistic, principled to a fault and kind of stubborn. They love learning new things, exploring and juggling with different ideas. It suggests a love for travelling or moving abroad.

They are the type of people that would rather go haggling in a Turkish bazaar or go on a city break in Juneau than spend yet another night copped up in their apartment, nearly suffocating from the listless, uninspiring mundane that characterises their everyday life.

Could they fail to see ethereal beauty that is in the budding of a flower? In the death of the Sun as it hides under the horizon only to be reborn once more kissing the beginnings of a fresh morrow? The gentleness or vigour of the uttered word as it leaves the mouth of a broken soul yearning for the same wholeness it’s always been part of ? Splendour and rawness surrounds us, from the beginnings of time as we know until we’ll be no longer. For the beauty of existence resides in its transient nature. What is no more, only exists in a different shape.

Moon in Sagittarius is deeply aware of this truth thus the reason why he tries to get the most out of his life. For the soul flourishes when it’s given proper chance to explore and extend itself. In knowing more about the world and your relationship/interaction with it, you’ll discover undeniable truths about your own nature. That is why it’s necessary to have a philosophy, an ideal to strive for. The chaotic shards, whispers, pebbles of our past will have finally found their peaceful place. In our minds, all of it we’ll be worth it. For they are experiences that shaped us to be better versions of ourselves and be closer to living the “ideal”.

Multiple hobbies, interests is very likely. They love trying out different activities and it’s very unlikely they’d refuse to hang out with you, especially if you are friends. They strive to be optimistic and can be quite relentless especially if they’ve set their mind on something. However, more times than not they are quite polite, chill, and fun to be around.

They definitely won’t judge you for your weirdness/quirks and will tell the truth to your face, even when it hurts. They aren’t known to be particularly mild and would rather step on some toes than keep their truths to themselves and feel bad about compromising their principles later on. They definitely have a strong sense of right and wrong and despise flakiness, dishonesty, secretiveness.

As children: they are probably pretty impulsive, disorganised or dramatic. Pretty friendly. Could suggest a tendency to break rules/not really take them well. Sort of rebellious.

As parents: pretty laid-back. Probably takes their child travelling or has traveled a lot in the past her/himself. Will give their child freedom and also teach them practical things, like how to unclog the toilet for example or how to change car ties. Not really a stay-at-home parent. Could love cooking, among their other hobbies, but probably doesn’t do it as frequently. Places a special emphasis on teaching their kid how to think and take care of themselves.

As employees: it’s very important that their principles align with those of the company or boss. Otherwise it could lead to pretty intense situations. Sag Moons can be very hot-headed when their principles are being challenged and won’t necessarily back down from a fight, even with a superior. However, if they work for the right company/boss they could also become the biggest supporters, cheerleaders. They infuse a special kind of passion in their speech and easily attract people to their side.

As coworkers: friendly, kind, very supportive. They aren’t known to be petty or hold grudges. Will probably befriend plenty of their coworkers if they feel they vibe with them. Is more likely to have fights with their boss (rather than their coworkers) because of the whole “taking orders” thing which doesn’t sit well with them. They will only do things that make sense to them and they value efficiency.

As friends: contrary to what some might think, Sagittarius Moon individuals make really loyal and sincere friends. They will offer you the truth even when it’s tough, will listen to your troubles and even offer a shoulder to cry on. Preferably you won’t even get to crying because they will get a laugh out of you before it happens. They love hanging out and doing new activities with friends. Could suggest a love for sports/physical activity too.

As lovers: oh, boy! Here comes the real dilemma. You see, Moon in Sagittarius have a wildly different definition to the word “commitment”. That is not to say they are prone to cheat or are unfaithful. There is a nuance that needs to be pointed out. It is very, very difficult to get their full commitment. You see, they are definitely not the type to promise to moon and the stars to you even if you are pretty close. It takes time to really earn their love and trust. They can be pretty volatile emotionally especially when someone is being passive-aggressive or secretive towards them or is challenging their principles. There is a desire for “perfection” in partners. Could have a wandering eye, especially in youth. Of course, they would not describe it as such. In their minds, there was never truly a “relationship” to begin with, perhaps only a close friendship or a warming up phase. There could also be a fear of commitment because if they truly commit, they’ll no longer see anybody else but their partner. What if their match is not the best one? What if they will get tired of each other? These are all questions they ask themselves, especially before a more serious commitment.

There is a nuance in the level of their commitments. They will give only as much as the person before them deserves. And could hardly be convinced to do otherwise, by any means.

A more mature, developed version of this placement that HAS found the right person though could be described in a single word: charming.

They will be your biggest friend, cheerleader, confidant and would do almost anything to make you feel good. They will cook for you, give you gifts, take you on trips, tickle you to make you laugh. Could surprise you with a pet for your birthday etc. in bed they are intense and experimental and could be pretty vocal about their desires.

Disclaimer! Once these natives truly commit it’s hard for them to leave, even when the relationship takes a turn for the worse. They’ll stay with the hope it’s going to get better and it’s just a “rough patch”. Sometimes it’s just better to accept the truth for what it is, without the added coat of sugar. It doesn’t always get better. Just leave, let go. Carry on with your life. It’s better alone than in a relationship that is toxic and constantly dragging you down.

The devil side - key words - reckless, impatient, volatile, stubborn, unreliable, blunt, contradictory

The angel side - key words - adventurous, friendly, open-minded, philosophical, inspirational, supportive, fun, engaging, passionate, honest, thoughtful.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

butcher's bussy~<3!! lmao for sure it's gotta count for somethin'<3<3<3 poor baby boi ain't got nothin' else--LITERALLY--KIDDING...

but lawd he *really* doesn't have much. his nose is cute, real cute. as is the index and ring finger (apparently!) and i doubt he'd want what little he has becoming the world's smallest diamond in the eldritch horror compacter i feel so bad for billy i--

;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

let's just say butcher's too busy compensating lollygagging when he could be donating some fine bussy to a worthy cause. i mean he's *clearly* at the ready--i'll stop now. XD

he'd def make him worse i--

no joke tho, it's actually legit canon that cows can calm homie--and he's shown them more respect than he has any human/supe. leik that *cow* he milked had pronouns for him and it still sticks with me--

'she was in pain'

SHE???

and then he proceeds to cause pain for a woman he considers 'his own kind' LEIK--

gotdamn.

pretty sure if you told homie cows and humans need each other, suddenly the human life would have value to him...

side note. i do genuinely love/hate homie's progression and growth with this. i think it's better to say that the influence that women (in particular it seems, but more specifically manipulators since this would def include edgar/vogelbaum) have over him has been slowly dying down. he's fuckin' tired. he's sick because of it and there comes a point where shit (narcissistic abuse) gets to be too much. no healthy love? well, explosive rage bomb incoming...

he's seeing through it more easily (or at least responding worse for them) as a result and on the one hand--

i love it cause it makes it harder for people to abuse/manipulate him (great example is what he did to barb--'oh you don't fear me? here have a reason to and then i'll leave you to the worst possible fate~<3') but also everyone is fucked (kind of a plus and minus there for me lol)

and then i hate it cause it's the kinda thing that tends to settle into a sorta comfortable misogyny... which is def already there on some level--but it's def gotten worse. but basically he's the guy who became a serial killer *because* of an abusive mother (figure)--has already exploded and killed that mother (figure) and... well, ya get the picture.

down with the sickness--specifically the mommy part<3

and it's fucking beautiful and terrifying all the same<3<3<3

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 2 "Akeru" Part 3

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Akeru (Part 2)

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Chapter 2: Akeru (Part 3)

“Isn’t Akeru kinda tense lately?”

It all happened during Horsemanship lessons. Shigemaru and Yukiya found themselves taking a break at a hilltop after finishing the assigned exercises, waiting for everyone else to catch up with them.

That day they were practicing what was called ‘rider-horse switching’. It was just one part of the training required to become capable of flying long distances without breaks and, as the name implied, it consisted of exchanging the roles between rider and horse in midair. At this point, they were only required to fly around the mountain once and then switch places, but Shigemaru had heard rumors that they would have to go all the way from the Center to Yamauchi’s frontier and back during their Graduation Trials.

Although, in theory, it was better to do such an exercise with someone of as similar a build as possible, Yukiya had proved to manage just fine even with Shigemaru as his partner.

“Still, it feels like you wouldn’t have any problems no matter who you partnered with.”

“Well, everyone becomes significantly bigger in bird form compared to their human form. I don’t think someone’s human build actually matters that much.”

“True, there are people way bigger and stronger than you in human form who are, in fact, struggling quite hard.”

“Oh, yes—like Akeru and his friends, right?”

While Akeru’s followers had never been particularly high achievers, even Akeru himself had started to flounder lately despite his initial brilliance. He had started to struggle to keep up as the difficulty of the practical courses ramped up—which was doubly true for Horsemanship, the one subject he had problems with from the start.

“Maybe that’s the reason,” Shigemaru said, bringing the conversation back to Akeru’s situation.

Yukiya gave him a bitter smile. “One of the reasons, most likely, but I doubt that’s all of it.”

The situation was changing even during theory, where Akeru had never before given up his position as the first of the class. “Well, you barely have a chance to study lately yet your grades are still virtually the same as his, I can’t blame Akeru for getting anxious over that.”

——Ever since the incident with Kimichika, Suikan had kept a constant eye on Yukiya.

It had been a month since then, and summer had finally arrived. Suikan, however, showed no signs whatsoever of forgiving Yukiya. He persistently called him to participate during exercise sessions and would find any reason—no matter how small—to give him all kinds of punishments and take away all his free time. Every so often, Suikan would outright lash out at him—telling Yukiya to his face that he should drop out of the Monastery.

It had gotten bad enough that, whenever they gathered, everyone in their usual group would insist that Yukiya should go ask for help from other instructors like Seiken. Yukiya, however, didn’t show a single sign of suffering through anything.

He would argue back at them—‘It’s on me for angering him’, ‘I don’t like the idea of telling on someone’, ‘If my grades dropped because of it that would be a problem, sure, but that won’t happen’. Yukiya laughed it off every time, never paying any mind to their group’s advice.

However, Yukiya was, in truth, losing sleep to finish his homework and he was forced to take tests without any preparation either. Despite that, and uncannily enough, his grades weren’t going down—they were actually improving. They were comparable to Akeru’s, even. He had risen to be the first of the class, or second at worst.

Akeru, meanwhile, was often rumored to spend all his free time on self-study. Even an outsider like Shigemaru could tell how Akeru’s expression would grow stiffer and stiffer every time he learned of Yukiya’s latest score.

“He made such a big deal of being part of the Wakamiya Faction too. I bet the coronation being postponed must be playing a huge part in it. He must not have any peace of mind—neither at the Monastery, nor at home.”

“You know, I feel kind of sorry for him.”

“No need. His grades are just his talent—or lack thereof—talking, and he only has himself to blame for acting high and mighty and humiliating himself like that. There’s not much for us to do.” While Yukiya had proved to be the type to sometimes spew venom with a smile, it was significantly more common whenever Akeru came up in conversation. 

At the same time that he chatted with Yukiya, Shigemaru entertained himself by watching the other trainees fly around. The many pairs would ascend and, as if performing some sort of somersault, exchange places in a matter of seconds. Although they all lost quite a lot of height at first, the trainee who had just transformed into a bird would immediately place himself underneath and spread his wings, catching the wind. Just like that, they would both rise to their original altitude.

It was entertaining to watch such a stunt-like maneuver from afar, but actually doing it was quite terrifying. The person shifting from horse to human was forced to take a shape incapable of flight, wholly entrusting himself to his partner in midair. It wasn’t any easier for the person transforming into a horse—it felt like having a heavy rock on his back as he struggled to remain in the air instead of falling altogether.

Finishing the course with both members of a pair in bird form—hence incapable of becoming a rider and mount—meant disqualification. It truly wasn’t a maneuver you could succeed at without coordination and mutual trust between human and horse. That was exactly why Shigemaru felt it was easier to complete the exercise with someone close to you, rather than someone with a similar build.

As he thought about that, Shigemaru suddenly noticed a pair among their flying peers moving all too slowly. “Yukiya, look!”

Before Shigemaru had the time to point at it, Yukiya noticed it as well. “That looks actually dangerous. Is the rider perhaps tired? Unless they gain more altitude, at that rate—Huh?”

Yukiya didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. At that precise moment, the rider and mount tried to exchange places and, for a second, it was as if two horses were there at the same time. That was quite the rare sight when the swap went properly.

——He had a bad feeling about this.

The ideal was for both parties to shapeshift simultaneously—that was all too awkward and clunky to fit the criteria. Sure enough, they kept on falling inexorably, even once the initial horse moved upwards and transformed back into a human. The current horse proved incapable of catching the wind with his wings on time and his body plunged against the trees. 

“Someone has fallen!” the hysterical screams of those watching resounded in unison.

“This is bad! With a fall like that, he got hurt for sure!”

“Contact the infirmary!”

In a matter of seconds, a ruckus like bees protecting their hive overtook the place. The instructors flew straight towards the location of the fall. From the looks of it, the rider had managed to transform back at the very last second and so avoided major harm, but the horse hadn’t been as lucky. “But who fell?”

“Shige, that was Akeru.”

“What? Really!?”

“I’m sure. I saw the rider’s hair shine red just before they swapped.”

Shigemaru immediately felt ill at ease. For such a thing to happen right after their conversation. As they spoke, bird-shaped Yatagarasu flocked together above the place of the incident.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

The moment he opened his eyes, he felt a dull pain throbbing through his entire body.

His mind was hazy, possibly because of the pain medicine, and his body felt as if it was burning. The sky, visible through the gaps in the infirmary's window shutters, had gotten completely dark. A doctor had checked up on him the first time he had woken up, so Akeru already knew what had happened to him.

There were scratches all over his body and he had some nasty bruises, but fortunately none of his wounds were of a life-threatening magnitude. However, as he had hit his head during the fall, the doctor had instructed him to remain in the infirmary for the day.

Akeru had a vivid memory of the moment he fell.

Of all people, his partner was Chihaya. After watching everyone during the marching drills, Akeru already knew he was the fastest flier among the Seeds, and yet Chihaya had been flying at an awfully low speed back when it all happened. Akeru had been convinced it was all Chihaya’s attempt at harassment, but Akeru couldn’t afford to waste time like that—he had to become the horse and catch up with the rest. Led by his growing panic, he started to transform before Chihaya was ready to do so, forcing him to go for a switch.

The sound of the wind raged against his ears.

And there, Chihaya. The expression on his face the moment he took human form.

——In the end, Akeru’s own transformation took too long.

A terrible blunder, one that would be a massive problem for his grades going forward. If things kept going like this, maybe Akeru wouldn’t even be able to become Wakamiya’s vassal. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Dammit……”

Where the hell did I go wrong? an overwhelmed Akeru wondered to himself.

“We have already informed everyone at the Western House.”

“I see…… Thank you for that.”

The next day, his two roommates came to visit. They had accompanied him to the Monastery and had once gone through great lengths to attend to Akeru’s every need, and yet they appeared unmistakably reluctant to come visit this time around. They both had the face of someone fulfilling the bare minimum of courtesies.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Nothing at all.”

They both remained aloof. Akeru could feel irritation expanding deep within his chest by the second. “...... You have been avoiding me lately. You know, if you have something to tell me, just say so.”

One of them abruptly raised his head. “Then, I’ll take my chance.”

“Hey, stop!”

“I’m not stopping! We are all thinking the same thing. So, I’ve heard about all this recently,” the boy said with a horribly contorted face. “Lord Akeru, you told us that you came here out of your own volition after receiving His Highness Wakamiya’s order to do so. But, apparently, you actually only served His Highness for one single day, am I wrong?”

Akeru was left at a loss. Why was that a problem now, after so long?

“Yeah, what about that?”

“I thought you coming to the Monastery was just in preparation to become His Highness’ vassal. You were truly brilliant at first,” he explained with an embittered look, “so we were almost fooled by that, but then—what did His Highness Wakamiya see in you, when you had barely spent a day with him and hadn’t even held a bamboo sword in your life at the time, to tell you to become a Yamauchi Guard?”

“Haven’t I told you again and again? The Yamauchi Guard is corrupt and I’m here to fix that. The Wakamiya Faction needs their own vanguard, and he chose me for that.”

“But if that’s the case, Yukiya of the Northern House is already there! He’s the most fit to obstruct the Animiya Faction. He’s the Great General’s grandson and the most talented in battle tactics among all our peers.”

To top it all off, Yukiya’s achievements included serving Wakamiya as his close aide for an entire year. If he got to graduate, there was no doubt he would become one of Wakamiya’s close vassals unless something radical happened.

“Command of the country’s warriors is the specialty of the Northern House to begin with. There was no need whatsoever for someone of the West of all houses to come to the Monastery. You were originally supposed to stay close to His Highness, right? As in, assuming His Highness expects Yukiya to fulfill his duty as a vassal by becoming a warrior, shouldn’t the same apply to you but by becoming a Court Official instead? And yet, you don’t even have an inkling of why you merely lasted one day as his attendant?”

“...... What are you trying to say?”

The rank of the Western House’s second son was, fundamentally speaking, one that shone first and foremost at the Court. What was the reason to even bother sending him to the Monastery despite that fact?

——The truth was that most nobles who went to the Unbending Reed Monastery were those whose families had forsaken them. Those too incompetent to get a job at the Court even through the On’i System.

“Wasn’t it simply that His Highness Wakamiya disliked you and used it as an excuse to get rid of you?” 

His roommate’s words left Akeru speechless. “We heard that you had His Highness’ trust, Lord Akeru. That’s why we went through the trouble of coming here with you instead of joining the Court as we had originally intended, but what’s the point if His Highness truly has forsaken you? You wasted our time and effort,” the boy spat out. “We shouldn’t have come to the damn Monastery in the first place.”

The other boy had so far restrained from talking altogether, unlike his fierce friend. Now, he shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t think it’s all your fault. However, the fact is that, as of now, the West-affiliated Court Ravens are increasingly disappointed in you.”

Akeru’s head failed to process it all. There was no way he could believe straight away that these two, those who had been closest to him, actually had such an image of him.

“We’re planning to voluntarily drop out.”

“What!?” Akeru rushed to ask—a hint of pleading snuck into his voice.

“Well, that’s the idea…… So, could you keep your distance from us?”

Akeru couldn’t think of a way to stop them. 

Just as his roommates were about to leave the room, however, Akeru caught sight of someone at the door. To make matters even worse, it turned out to be the last person he wanted to see in the current situation.

“Ah, did I come at a bad moment?”

The boy—Yukiya of the Northern House—tilted his head with a smile on his face.

“Ah, good to know it wasn’t too bad.” After watching Akeru’s roommates leave as if they were running away, Yukiya approached him with a shady-looking smile. 

“Why did you come here?”

“Is that how you greet people? And here I bothered to come deliver a present for the sick. Here, take it.” Yukiya handed him a package covered in wrapping paper. Inside, there were sugar-sprinkled kumquats.

“I don’t want them.”

“Oh, really? Now that’s a waste. Can I have them?” Yukiya didn’t even wait for Akeru’s answer. He immediately sat by the window and started to stuff his mouth with kumquats. For a while, the only sound breaking the silence of the room was his slow chewing.

Akeru had no words for Yukiya. He had this feeling—like he finally understood why Yukiya had given him the cold shoulder when Akeru first offered him his friendship as a fellow member of the Wakamiya Faction. Unlike Akeru, Yukiya had been serving by Wakamiya’s side for an entire year. He didn’t want to think about it, but if Wakamiya had truly sent him to the Monastery out of disgust, Yukiya was sure to know.

While a part of him wanted to know what Wakamiya had intended for him all along, another couldn’t even bear the idea of hearing the truth.

“...... If that’s everything, can’t you leave me alone?” he said in an admittedly dreadful tone—he was too scared of the truth coming out from Yukiya’s mouth. However, as blatant as Akeru’s jealousy turned out to be, Yukiya simply laughed it off.

“I have more to say, obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here at all,” he confirmed with a wholly impassive expression. “You see, if things keep going like this, you’ll end up leaving this place sooner or later.”

Akeru flew into a rage the moment he heard that. “It’s not that bad! My grades should still be better than yours if you put them all together!”

“Who’s talking about grades here? You truly don’t understand the position you’re in, huh?”

Yukiya’s demeanor got, all of a sudden, a lot colder. Akeru flinched. “What do you mean? The situation I’m in…”

“Think about it for a moment,” Yukiya said as he fiddled with a kumquat, “the trainees currently on the Monastery’s register are 44 Seeds, 21 Saplings and 14 Evergreens, a total of 78 students. Among those, only you and I were born with a social rank higher than fifth in our region. Furthermore, and this is including us, there are only six Court Ravens in the entire Monastery with the right to employ the On’i System. The vast majority of those are either Seeds or Saplings. Do you understand what that means?” Yukiya asked an astonished Akeru—it was as if he was testing him.

“That most trainees from the high nobility fail out before reaching their third year……?”

“Exactly.” While, at the moment, there were still Court Ravens among his peers, virtually everyone would be either from warrior clans or commoners once they became Evergreens. “There are others linked to the Four Houses, of course, but they aren’t necessarily nobility themselves. It’s obvious what will happen to you if you keep ridiculing Hill Ravens and paying your respects only to your fellow Court Ravens, isn’t it? With that attitude, you’ll just end up surrounded by enemies,” Yukiya explained with a bored expression.

“Besides, to form a West-affiliated faction to reform the Unbending Reed Monastery is, no matter how you put it, both impossible and pointless. Any issues with the Monastery’s policies are for people like the director or His Highness Wakamiya—those involved in the place’s administration—to fix. To ask a trainee to do so is just cruel and His Highness hasn’t ever expected anything like that from you.”

Akeru was appalled. “Then… there’s no reason for His Highness Wakamiya to have sent me to the Monastery, is there?”

——Were Wakamiya’s actions truly a mere attempt to get rid of him?

At the mere thought, Akeru felt all strength about to abandon his body. A moment promptly interrupted by something in his mouth—Yukiya had, all of sudden, rammed a kumquat in it.

“W-what are you doing!?”

Akeru almost choked on it, caught in a coughing fit as an unimpressed Yukiya gave him a bored look. “Oh, you see, I was just thinking about how some incredible idiots truly do exist. His Highness Wakamiya has such high hopes for you and yet you’re completely blind to it.”

“What?” Akeru raised his head, as if in search of an explanation. This time, Yukiya gave him a wry smile.

“I mean, he told you to come to the Monastery, didn’t he? So you could become his vassal in the future,” Yukiya explained as he rolled yet another kumquat on the palm of his hand. “It’s easy to tell why, looking at the guys from before. They didn’t say so per se, but the fact they spoke out like that is probably very much related to the delay of His Highness Wakamiya’s ascension to the throne. Those who only approach you seeking out family influence will change their tune over and over whenever it’s politically convenient. If you want to earn trustworthy allies, the last thing you want to rely on is status and influence. Let me tell you this much—you’re the very reason they ended up acting like that.”

Akeru stammered. He remembered how his followers—people he had genuinely thought of as allies—had blamed him and accused him of lying to them just moments ago. “...... I didn’t ever consider that.”

Embarrassed with himself, Akeru hung his head and, in answer to that, a hint of delight appeared in Yukiya’s voice.

“——Do you realize now? Think about it, what if you became His Highness’ vassal and still committed this kind of mistake?” Yukiya kept talking to the silent Akeru, admonishing him. “Remember, those you look down on as Hill Ravens are about 90% of Yamauchi’s population. Wakamiya is, in fact, very well aware of what kind of people are the majority in the country he rules over.”

The Unbending Reed Monastery was, in a sense, a reflection of Yamauchi itself. Slowly but surely, Akeru started to grasp the meaning behind Yukiya’s words. “So that’s why His Highness told me to come to the Monastery……”

To learn how to socialize with commoners ahead of time. All to stop Akeru from having an attitude unbefitting of one of the Golden Raven’s close vassals in the future.

“Wakamiya told you to come to the Monastery, but he didn’t say you had to become a Yamauchi Guard. He was trying to raise you. That’s the ultimate proof that his expectations weren’t placed on the Scion of the Western House, but on you yourself.” Then, Yukiya unexpectedly looked Akeru in the eyes. “But, what about you? What would you do if His Highness Wakamiya loses his status as Crown Prince? Would you remain by His Highness’ side if he isn’t your brother-in-law? If Lady Masuho no Susuki doesn’t ever enter the Harem?”

Akeru gulped in response to Yukiya’s harsh words. At that moment, what came rushing back to him was that first meeting with Wakamiya, before he even knew of his status, and how he had felt that day.

——The start of everything, a shared secret and a gentle smile under the sinking sun.

“I—” Akeru let out in a hoarse, shaky voice. He closed his mouth to try again with more success. His tone was a lot more firm. “I want to serve under His Highness Wakamiya himself. If he values me as me, then I believe I must respond with the same.”

“I see…… That’s a relief for me too to hear.” 

This time, Yukiya had a bright smile on his face. It didn’t feel shady at all, not anymore.

For the first time since they first met, Akeru genuinely saw in Yukiya a companion, a fellow follower of Wakamiya. He felt like he had at last fully grasped why Yukiya had most likely been chosen as a close aide—that great intelligence of his. Not the kind that makes you good at studying, but a different one altogether.

“You aren’t like me, Yukiya. You have gotten this far, all with the conviction to never rely on your house’s influence.”

That must be the very reason why he had gone through such efforts to get along with Shigemaru and the rest, or so Akeru thought. However, Yukiya laughed Akeru’s sentimentalism off.

“No way! It’s true that I felt like that once, but I don’t have the luxury to say so anymore. I plan to use anything and everything that’s at my disposal.”

Akeru blinked. “But, then, what’s the point?”

“Don’t misunderstand, Akeru.” All of a sudden, Yukiya’s eyes narrowed into slits. Akeru, who had tilted his head in question, watched him. “Power and authority are troublesome things, they can easily cause your downfall when not used correctly. On the other hand, they can also be your strongest trump card. So, what I’m trying to say is,” Yukiya said with a cold smile, “you must not mistake when and how to use them.”

——Akeru felt a sudden chill down his back.

Yukiya’s smile had transformed into something entirely different. His eyes were impenetrable, like those of a snake. What emotions hid within, Akeru couldn’t tell but, in a matter of seconds, a deep terror rose within him.

“What are—” Akeru swallowed.

—you scheming? he tried to ask, but before he could finish his question, a tanned face abruptly popped out through the window on Yukiya’s side.

“Are you all done with the difficult talk?”

Akeru almost jumped up from surprise, but his entire body howled in pain at the attempt. “Shigemaru! When did you arrive?”

“We came here together with Yukiya, to be honest, but it didn’t feel right to intrude given the mood so we hid here to wait instead. Here, a present,” Shigemaru bent himself through the window and dropped a basket full of plums on the floor.

“Oh, I actually love plums. Can I have one?” Yukiya asked nonchalantly.

Akeru was left in a state of complete confusion. What had that been a moment ago?

“You had quite the impressive fall, but you seem better than I thought you would be. How are you feeling?” Shigemaru asked him.

Akeru was incapable of answering at first. Ironically enough, he had the feeling that Shigemaru had just become the first person to show proper concern for him. It was both strangely moving and a source of sudden embarrassment at his own behavior so far.

“Your concern is much appreciated. I’m doing fine, but… ‘we’?” 

“Oh, yes! Actually, he has been way, way more worried about you than me.” Outside the window, Shigemaru vanished for a second. He proceeded to pick up the boy apparently sitting there by the scruff of his neck, effortlessly lifting him up to show Akeru.

A sour face appeared—‘I wasn’t that worried’ written all over it.

“Chihaya.” Akeru was so surprised he couldn’t say more.

Meanwhile, Chihaya seemed to be struggling just like him. He looked to be at a loss for quite a while, before finally letting out a mutter, “It wasn’t intentional.”

That’s all it took for Akeru to understand what was going on—to get an idea of what kind of rumors were spreading all over the Monastery at the moment. Everyone probably suspected that Chihaya had hurt Akeru intentionally. He originally served under Kimichika, whose harassment attempts towards Akeru had turned into a frequent occurrence as of late. Had he not been directly involved in the incident, Akeru would have probably believed the same.

“...... I know. It was my own fault I fell.”

He had seen Chihaya’s expression for a second there—he had been clearly frightened. It all, from his initial transformation to his fall, happened in an instant, but he had still felt how Chihaya had done everything in his power as the rider in an attempt to recover.

However, there was one thing he couldn’t understand about the incident, no matter how he thought about it...

“Hey, Chihaya. You should be able to fly a lot faster, right? Why were you going so awfully slow back then?”

Chihaya answered his question in a dispassionate tone, “You were struggling to keep your balance. I thought you would roll down from my back if I flew any faster than that.”

“——I see.” Akeru let out a big sigh. After straightening himself over the futon, he deeply bowed in Chihaya’s direction. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble. I’ll explain what happened to everyone else.”

“No…… There’s no need.” As scarce as Chihaya’s words were, they made Akeru’s chest feel so much lighter.

“Oooh! To see you apologize to a Hill Raven. You too have grown, huh?” Shigemaru’s amused admiration, on the other hand, gave Akeru all kinds of mixed feelings—something the former seemed to pick up on immediately.

“Look, Akeru.” Shigemaru’s expression changed ever so swiftly. “Just like you had your own reasons to come to the Monastery, we all also have ours. Nobody has the exact same circumstances, so it’s a given we all think differently.” 

Akeru meekly listened as Shigemaru spoke. “I think this place is amazing, you know. Where else can people from all corners of Yamauchi gather and share their views and opinions with each other? If we weren’t here at the Monastery, neither of us would have had the chance to speak to each other normally like this, right?”

“Yes, absolutely. You’re right……”

“We’ve been given such a rare chance, so think of it this way—it’ll be for your own sake to try to get along with others,” Shigemaru said with a laugh. “Breaks aside, we gather to study together almost every day in an empty room of the second building. Want to come along? Everyone will be happy to see you.”

At that moment, Akeru’s heart was terribly touched by Shigemaru’s carefree words.

By the time Akeru returned to his own room with the doctor’s permission, one of his two followers had already vanished. He hadn’t given it much thought before, back when they had that talk, but his grades had always been much worse than Akeru’s. Most likely, he had genuinely reached his limit, incapable of keeping up with life as a trainee any longer.

Akeru fretted about it for a while but, by the time night came, he had decided to head to the second building. Once actually there, it didn’t take him long at all to find the room where the study group was held—the sliding door wasn’t only open, but the voices coming from the room were exasperatingly loud.

“I can’t do this anymore! I don’t understand it at all.”

“Get your shit together! Now that glasses dude has found out about it, we can’t just go and copy Yukiya’s homework wholesale anymore!”

“Look, I’m telling you. As long as you memorize the warfare records1, it’s just a matter of applying it all afterwards,” Akeru heard a tired Yukiya say. An onslaught of angry yells followed right after.

“Like that’s easy, you freaking bastard!”

“There’s no way we can memorize those things just like that!”

“By the way—how did you even do it to begin with?”

“I just read it normally? That was it, really.”

“See, here it comes!”

“This is why I cannot stand quick learners!”

Warfare records were a register of what movements were executed by which pieces and when during a Board Drill for later examination, and, by the sound of it, they were trying to finish their Strategy homework. Akeru took a deep breath, steeling his resolve before finally standing by the door frame.

“For warfare records, you should first pin down the Officers’ moves. Infantry movement always uses them as the starting point.” The group, who had been about to collectively throw their textbooks out and get a swing at Yukiya, turned to look at Akeru. Their mouths were wide open.

“...... Akeru?”

“What are you doing here?”

Although both Shigemaru and Yukiya smirked at the scene, neither stepped out to support him. Alongside the wall was Chihaya too, quietly taking care of his own homework all by himself, but he didn’t even bother to glance at him.

Akeru lightly licked his lips, dry out of sheer nerves, and surveyed the faces of those inside before speaking, “I was wondering if, maybe, it would be possible for me to join the study group as well. I know it may sound wrong of me to say but, well, if it’s theory I should be able to help a little. Of course, that’s if you’re all fine with it……”

By the end, he was tapering off.

Akeru knew perfectly that his attitude so far had been anything but pleasant for the people gathered there. He cast his eyes downwards in fear of their reaction when, out of the blue, one of the boys lying on the floor jumped towards him and took him by the shoulders.

“Welcome, professor.”

“Eh?”

“We may actually be able to understand what you’re saying. At least, more than with that Yukiya bastard,” he ruthlessly added.

“Mean,” Yukiya murmured. He was the only one to protest.

“We can’t figure out any of it! At this rate, we’ll end up dropping out.”

“No matter how many times we listen to Yukiya’s explanations, none of them make any sense to us. You’re our last hope.”

Akeru’s eyes were left wide open—their reaction wasn’t anything like what he had expected. 

“...... You’ll forgive me?”

“Not like there’s anything to forgive.”

His fellow trainees, all commoners for the most part, traded glances. “It would be a lie to say we don’t have our own feelings about you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“If you help us so we don’t drop out, we’ll consider all accounts settled.”

“So, less grumbling, more teaching! The due date for these is tomorrow and we haven’t gotten anything done yet.”

Akeru wasn’t quite sure if he should be glad at their reaction or not, but Shigemaru burst into laughter. “In short, no hard feelings!”

After that, Akeru spent the rest of the evening teaching theory to his peers. Yukiya’s explanations proved to be awful and their current situation was beyond subpar, but, thanks to Akeru’s efforts, they ended up being able to solve a lot of the questions with ease. In the end, his overjoyed, frantically crying students were imploring him to come again the next day.

“Tired?” Shigemaru asked him on the way back.

Akeru shook his head. “No, thank you for inviting me. It was fun.”

It had been the first time in his life someone thanked him like that. It was invigorating beyond belief. On top of that, there were many among the study group who were accomplished at Horsemanship and, as a show of gratitude, they had offered to help him practice the horse-rider switch during the next break. Akeru was genuinely glad he had joined them.

——There was, however, a matter much more important than his participation in the study group. One he had left for later.

“Chihaya, do you have a moment?”

Akeru called out to him just as he had left the empty room, heading towards his own. There was clear suspicion on Chihaya’s face, but he nevertheless followed him to a corner of the hallway without ever uttering a word.

“I’ve given you a lot of trouble with the latest incident. Allow me to apologize again,” Akeru bowed.

“I don’t mind,” Chihaya answered just the same way as before.

“But I do mind. You could have also ended up gravely injured if anything else had gone wrong, and now there are weird rumors going around. I’ve been thinking a lot about if there was something I could do to pay you back.”

Chihaya’s expression became slightly troubled, but Akeru kept talking without paying it any mind. “Despite your bad relationship with Kimichika, you came to the Monastery through the Minami-Tachibana’s recommendation, right?”

“..... You investigated me?”

“I’m sorry, but yes. Back when I lost against you during our first match, my followers checked your family register in the census, as well as your general background, and came to inform me. That’s when I heard that you have a little sister and her health is poor, so you couldn’t refuse the Minami-Tachibana’s assistance. When Kimichika intimidated you during your fight that one time, he meant your sister, right?”

In a matter of seconds, Chihaya’s expression went entirely blank.

“I’m fully aware it was presumptuous of me to do so. That said, let me ask you something else. Would you let me assist you with that?” Chihaya didn’t reply to his question. “You must loathe this situation, having your sister essentially be a hostage to Kimichika. This is just as a way of apology, there are no ulterior motives or anything,” Akeru emphasized. “It’s all out of pure goodwill, I mean it.”

Up until then, Akeru had only taken advantage of his own position and the power his birth had given him. He had done nothing but act arrogantly in front of people like Chihaya or Shigemaru. However, he had no plans to commit the same mistakes and misuse his power anymore. He wanted to follow Yukiya’s advice. This would be a good first at using his influence in the correct way, or so he thought.

“The Western House will support you, if you wish so, and we’ll take good proper care of your sister too. It’s not like you want to be under Kimichika either. Right, Chihaya?”

Chihaya opened his mouth after a long silence.

“That’s right,” he murmured in a self-deprecating tone. “That much is true. I’m not receiving the Minami-Tachibana’s aid because I like it that way.”

“Then!” Akeru said enthusiastically.

The look in Chihaya’s eyes, however, was as cold as ice.

“——It’s as I thought. You’re just like Kimichika.” Just like that, Chihaya turned his back on him and quickly left the place behind. Akeru had no time to stop him.

…… Did he just anger him?

Frozen in place, Akeru watched Chihaya as he vanished into the distance.

“But, why?” He couldn’t even imagine the reason behind Chihaya’s anger.

Next: Chihaya (Part 1)

—————————————

1: Warfare Records is my take on Senpu (戦譜), which is in itself a reference to Kifu (棋譜). Kifu is the word for records of abstract strategy games like Shogi or Go, which can be used to fully replicate a game. Each game has their own notation methods.