yuesya

[yuesya]

The point of fiction is actually to put that guy in a situation™️, and he might try to tell you the point is to then get him out of the situation, WRONG, second situation

[yuesya]

Do not kill the Stellaron.

Gray hair. Yellow eyes. A faint smile as they walk along the street, with two others by their side. The entity’s appearance greatly resembles that of a human, but. There is no mistaking that its true nature is something else entirely. There’s no hiding what lies at its core–

Do not kill the Stellaron.

–and the truth is plain to see: This entity is the living host to a Stellaron. And Stellarons, world-destroyers that they are, should be–

Do not kill the Stellaron.

“Don’t kill him,” Firefly’s voice is familiar. Familiarity should be soothing, but the words are wrong. Stellarons should be– “Shiki, don’t. Remember what Elio told you?”

Do not kill the Stellaron.

Stay your blade. Observe, and learn. Your time is yet to come.

Eyes drift closed in faint irritation, gray hair and yellow eyes disappearing from view. But there are a multitude of red lines that remain even despite the sudden loss of visual acuity, and the desire to cut is an immutable instinct engraved into the very being.

Control. Do not give in to base impulses.

Observe. Learn what lies at the core of a world constructed by dreams. Do not be distracted–

Do not kill the Stellaron.

Eyes open, surroundings drifting back into view. Clean streets, rich buildings. Splashes of pink and red covering the twilight sky.

… The Stellaron host is gone.

[yuesya]

Update!

New chapter for zenith of stars is up!

Chapter 93 (update #99) has been posted.

FFN | AO3 | SB

[yuesya]

“… so someone like you should know your place!”

Fujiwara no Tadahira pauses mid-step, and looks askance.

There is a group of children clustered together beside the lotus pond. More precisely, it is a group of children towering over a little girl on the ground beside the pond.

Tadahira glimpses a flash of white hair, and instantly recognizes who she is. There is only one little girl with bone-white hair like that in the Fujiwara Clan, and that’s Tokihira’s daughter. The one born of a nameless servant who died during childbirth.

Tadahira wonders if his eldest brother realizes how his daughter is treated within the clan. Being the daughter of a powerful father is only a boon if the father in question cares for the child –and Tokihira has not done anything other than pass the girl to a maidservant after proclaiming her as his daughter. While it’s true that the duty of child-rearing does not fall upon the father… this little girl is motherless. Tadahira finds it hard that his brother would have forgotten that, so–

Was this purposeful, then? Or did he simply not care about the child he’d gotten off some lowly servant girl?

… But it’s not Tadahira’s place to interfere in his brother and clan head’s household, and so he does not say anything. This is not the first time that he has witnessed harsh words and rough shoves heaped upon the girl, and he doubts that it will be the last. Perhaps if she finds a husband of some status and renown one day, things will take a turn for the better… but that is still a long ways off in the future.

It is rather odd, though. Tadahira doesn’t think he’s ever once seen the girl scream or cry in response to the way she’s treated. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever really seen her react at all. Oftentimes, she’ll sit there in silence like a living doll, barely responsive, and it’s–

It’s quite pitiful.

But it’s not Tadahira’s place to do anything about it. It’s Tokihira’s.

Tadahira closes his eyes, and turns away from the juvenile roughhousing between the children–

And it’s a mistake.

Between one moment and the next, there is a loud splash. Mocking laughter turns into cries of alarm instead, and Tadahira whirls around.

Had those children just pushed Tokihira’s daughter into the pond?

Tadahira takes one step forward–

And lets out a startled exclamation, when someone shoves past him and dives into the pond without hesitation.

… Wait, was that Tokihira?! Where did he suddenly spring out from?

No, no, that’s not what’s important right now.

Tadahira dashes forward, determined to lend his brother a hand.

…

…

…

(Eventually, Tokihira makes his way back to the banks with a dark, thunderous expression, soaking wet and dripping water. It’s good that it’s currently the summer season; there’s far less of a chance for the cold chill of the water to set into his bones and cause any illness.

He’s… holding tightly onto the little girl in his arms. It’s several long, agonizing moments before the child coughs lightly and stirs, slowly opening her eyes.

… A pair of glowing, eldritch blue eyes.)

[yuesya]

Ko-fi Update!

Chapter 96 (update #102) for zenith of stars is up on Ko-fi. Thank you very much for the support!

Chapter 96: LINK

.

Chapters 93, 94, and 95 are also available in advance:

Chapter 95: LINK

Chapter 94: LINK

Chapter 93: LINK

.

Extra this week is a continuation of the Zenin Mao plot bunny!

LINK

.

January WIP Voting Poll: LINK

[yuesya]

i just know Sunday's having an aneurysm every time he sees Aventurine and Lyra interact LMAO

Aventurine: ... Y'know, people are always concerned that Lyra might go off on a murder spree, but they could stand to be a little more worried about Sunday instead. Just saying.

[yuesya]

shiki in…sakamoto days?🤩

I'm not familiar with that, sorry!

[yuesya]

Omg is the surprise in the demon slayer verse going to be shiki's reverse cursed technique

;3

[yuesya]

Douma snaps open an ice-fan and flutters it in front of his face, hiding the growing smile that stretches across his lips.

Oh, how glad he is that he decided to check in on Gyutaro and Daki! Douma hadn’t known ahead of time if the demon slayer he was interested in would be here, but he’d thought that there would be a chance –Gyutaro was another Demon Moon, after all, and surely any demon slayer who found themselves caught in a fight with a Demon Moon would call for reinforcement?

Reinforcement, such as the girl who’d killed Upper Moon Three?

The young lady does all the rumors surrounding her justice and then some. She’s quite pretty, and Douma is someone who can appreciate beauty. The last Flower Pillar that he’d killed had been a lovely little thing, too –the expression of fear and anger that she’d worn when Douma had wounded her fatally especially so. A pity that the sun rose before he’d been able to devour her.

But here and now, the night is still young, and there are long hours to go before the sun rises.

Douma is much more interested in this new little Pillar than he had the Flower Pillar. She’s strong, of that there is no doubt –Douma had figured as much when Akaza died at her hands. But it’s one thing to know that, and another to see it in person. The ice sculptures that Douma created using his blood art are creatures that have killed Pillars on their own before, yet they shatter swiftly beneath the gleam of this young girl’s blade.

She does not use any breathing style. How curious. It’s even reflected in her sword –a nichirin blade that does not possess any particular color at all.

However, Douma shamelessly admits that the main reason for his interest in her is because of her eyes. Douma himself possessed eyes with a unique coloration –his human parents had proclaimed him to be a child who was able to hear the voices of gods, solely based on the rainbow shimmer of his eyes.

If they’d seen this girl’s eyes, then would they claim her to be a blessed child as well? Or would they prostrate themselves and kowtow in supplication?

There had been a light shiver that ran down Douma’s spine the moment he’d looked into those dark, abyssal eyes, for no reason at all.

He wonders how those eyes would taste, once he popped them out of her skull one by one and brought them to his lips.

Well… he wouldn’t have to wonder for much longer, hopefully. The ice created from Douma’s blood art is lethal to those who inhale it. And that lovely little demon slayer has been fighting his ice sculptures for quite some time now. Douma had deliberately chosen to engage her using his ice puppets instead of fighting her directly; considering what she’d done to Akaza and the fact that Gyutaro still wasn’t healing from the wound she’d inflicted on him, he’d figured that it would be safer to fight at range.

Just until the poor thing tired herself out. Then, Douma would finally end her suffering.

Almost in tandem to his thoughts, the white-haired demon slayer stumbles, coughing on a cloud of poisonous ice-dust that bursts in her vicinity.

Douma smiles.

[yuesya]

Fujiwara no Tokihira slowly lets out a long breath, a quiet exhale. One hand rubs tiredly at his forehead, but the headache pounding at his temples does not abate in the least, despite his efforts.

In the middle of the room, a small infant girl sleeps fitfully.

… Small mercies, although Tokihira suspects that she will not remain as quietly unobtrusive once she wakes. That had been his experience with his son, after all; the boy had seemed determined to prove to the world that he had a healthy set of lungs on him, especially when it was the dead of the night. At the time, Tokihira had wondered if this would remain true for his future children–

But that’s nowhere here nor there at the moment.

… Because this infant girl is not his daughter. To be precise, this newborn infant is in fact his sister.

Tokihira had not known that his late father had been involved in a dalliance with Minamoto no Tomiko. A daughter of Emperor Montoku, though she had not inherited the position of an imperial princess. In terms of status, it is a fitting match–

But it’s obvious why his father would’ve kept such a relationship under the wraps. Minamoto no Tomiko’s mother was a court lady who hailed from the Sugawara Clan. Their clans were political rivals and enemies with each other; Sugawara no Michizane being the worst of the lot. Tokihira has no idea what his esteemed father had been thinking, having an affair with a woman like that.

He probably hadn’t been thinking at all.

And now, it was Tokihira’s hands that needed to take care of his father’s mess. Fujiwara no Mototsune had only passed last winter, and Tokihira was preoccupied with an abundance of matters that required his attention in his new role as clan head–

He did not need a newborn child being forced upon him like this!

Minamoto no Tomiko did not wish to have any evidence of her indiscretion remaining at her side, and so she’d sent her daughter to the Fujiwara Clan to wash her hands clean of the matter. Tokihira supposed that he should be glad that the woman didn’t murder the child immediately after she was born. Even though it would mean less of a headache for him to deal with…

Tokihira glances over at the sleeping infant, and immediately winces and regrets the callous thought. Inconvenience or not, it’s not the innocent child who he should be irritated at. No, the ones who deserve the bulk of Tokihira’s frustration would be Minamoto no Tomiko for abandoning her daughter, and Fujiwara no Mototsune for foolishly choosing to indulge himself in an affair that should never have happened in the first place.

… But what’s done is done. There’s no point in bemoaning things; right now, what’s most important is how Tokihira is going to proceed from here.

Claiming the girl to be his sister will undoubtedly invite trouble. People will ask who the mother is, and it’s clear that Minamoto no Tomiko will have nothing to do with the girl –nor would Tokihira wish for the woman to claim her. A Fujiwara child with Sugawara blood in her would only be ostracized within the clan, and Tokihira isn’t so cruel as to wish that upon a blameless little girl.

Should he proclaim her to be his own daughter, then? There would be less questions about the girl’s origins that way… although he would most certainly need to explain the truth to his lovely Princess Renshi first, so that his wife would not have any misunderstandings.

Tokihira sighs heavily.

In front of him, the infant continues sleeping, oblivious to the trouble that she’s brought to his doorstep with her very existence.

“… Fujiwara no Shiki,” he decides on the girl’s name. Shiki, using the character for ‘discernment’ and ‘knowing.’

May this girl be clearly cognizant of her words and actions, unlike the foolish indulgences that both of her parents displayed.

“The Fujiwara Clan is not so heartless as to abandon their own blood as the Sugawara do,” he murmurs to the sleeping infant. “Henceforth you shall be Fujiwara no Shiki, daughter of Fujiwara no Tokihira. 

My sister, my… daughter.”

[yuesya]

can i just come in here and say that it's absolutely insane that we're coming up on a hundred chapters of zenith? that's crazy! i admire your dedication, like seriously.

It is haha, we're pretty far into the story now.

... And there's still more in store that we have yet to get to! (Rubs hands)

[yuesya]

is there a song that reminds you of shiki or zenith in general?

Hmm so far I don't think I have a 'character theme' in mind, but sometimes when I'm writing I'll be listening to the Kara no Kyoukai soundtrack!

[yuesya]

Update!

New chapter for zenith of stars is up!

Chapter 92 (update #98) has been posted.

FFN | AO3 | SB

[yuesya]

Ko-fi Update

Chapter 95 (update #101) for zenith of stars is up on Ko-fi. Thank you very much for the support!

Chapter 95: LINK

.

Chapters 92, 93, and 94 are also available in advance:

Chapter 94: LINK

Chapter 93: LINK

Chapter 92: LINK

.

January WIP Voting Poll: LINK

[yuesya]

[yuesya]

Aventurine drums his fingers restlessly upon the table.

It’s not the thrill or rush of getting ready to make another gamble, to take on another of the IPC’s deals. No, this is a very different sort of restlessness that he’s feeling right now –one that’s mixed with a distinct unease, almost. Aventurine wouldn’t say that he’s nervous, because he isn’t, but…

… But Aventurine is a realist who’s always acutely self-aware of his own worth. A worth that can only be measured in terms of what value he is able to provide to those around him.

Any relationships are weighed and calculated, always. Everyone makes use of others in some manner, but at the same time that you’re using others, you have to be prepared for being used in return. Because that’s the way things work in this world, isn’t it?

Assess one’s value, establish your own worth, then extend a hand in friendship. That’s the way to cultivate a healthy, cordial relationship.

Look at me. I can be useful to you.

“Aventurine?”

A smile curls over his lips at the sound of her voice, before her figure has even crossed into view. “Hello, Lyra. How have you been doing these days?”

“I was in your apartment last week,” the obtuse Halovian girl responds, once again failing to recognize and partake in the common ritual of social niceties that most people observe.

A faint hint of something more genuine enters Aventurine’s smile, even though he can’t help but be exasperated by her response. “… Do you realize how misleading that sounds?”

Lyra blinks, blue eyes wide and clueless. “But it’s the truth?”

Someone save this oblivious girl. And Aventurine too, preferably.

He lets out a light cough, “Well. At any rate –I’m here with a gift!”

With Lyra, it’s always better to be direct.

Aventurine reaches to his side and brings out the newly-acquired gift he’d brought for his friend. It’s something that had taken quite a bit of effort to get his hands on –a finely-crafted blade, rumored to have been forged using ores mined from Izumo, prior to the world being subsumed in IX’s shadow. Izumo had once been known for the quality of the blades born from their forges. It was impossible to get your hands on an authentic Izumo blade nowadays, though, so Aventurine had to compromise–

The restless sensation in his chest finally eases, when Lyra curiously draws the sword, and her eyes widen. Only slightly, but Aventurine is familiar enough with the girl to clearly see the hint of wonder and delight that she makes no effort to hide in front of him.

“This is an excellent blade.”

It had better be, considering the minor fortune that Aventurine spent on it. “I’m glad you’re happy with it! I thought it might be something that you’d like when I came across it.”

Lyra’s gaze flickers towards him, arching an eyebrow. “You ‘came across it?’”

Aventurine shrugs, doing his best to seem casual about things. So maybe he’d specifically searched for a weapon that would be worthy of her and spent no small amount of effort on the endeavor… but for some reason, with Lyra looking at him like this, he–

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the words blurt out from his mouth automatically, and Aventurine pauses at the strange feeling that her simple ‘thank you’ elicits in him.

… It’s normal to offer valuable presents to friends. Because that’s how you maintain friendships, right? Reaffirm and prove to them your own value?

So why does he–

“Thank you for the sword,” Lyra says, “And thank you for thinking of me. When you ‘came across it.’”

“Of course,” Aventurine murmurs. “We’re… friends, aren’t we?”

He glances up towards her. There’s no particular reason for it –it’s just a casual look in her direction– but in this moment, Aventurine suddenly sees it. The way her wings flutter slightly, the way the light overhead catches her eyes like jewels beneath the firelight–

The way that her lips curve faintly and he gets the impression that she smiles, just a little bit.

[yuesya]

Update!

New chapter for zenith of stars is up!

Chapter 91 (update #97) has been posted.

FFN | AO3 | SB