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rewatching-sam-and-dean · 11 months

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So, a post with a series of great reblogs came across my feed today -- here — regarding two concepts that are often discussed in fandom: Daddy Dean and Spoiled Sam (in a non-kinky way).

It's funny that this post came across my feed today because l've been thinking about Sam and Dean's childhoods a lot lately and how their different experiences, or perspectives, have shape who they are and how they express their emotions as adults. To start, I wanted to comment on these specific ideas that seem to pop up in fandom so often: Selfless Parent Dean and Selfish Spoiled Sam.

This one got long (shocking, I know), so if you’re interested, please do read on under the cut.

Dean: The Selfness Parent?

Do I think Dean was given too much responsibility, at a way too young age? Yes. Do I think Dean, even as a child, would have died to protect Sam? Yes. Do I think Dean's protectiveness over and love for Sam are two of his best qualities? Yes. Do I think Dean's influence contributed to the man Sam became? Yes. Do I think Dean did both some pretty general level (Lucky Charms, anyone?) and extraordinary sacrifices (giving up a chance to start over at the boy's home because he saw Sam in the car) for Sam? I do. Do I think this makes Dean the one who raised Sam, entirely on his own, acting as both a mother and a father to Sam? Kind of … there was also this other guy around who they called Dad (however absent he might have been, he still was a fixture in their lives). Do I think Dean could also have a quick temper (“Don’t you ever talk about mom, ever!”, be insensitive, and even neglectful (Sam developing Clown fears at Plucky's) at times. Yes. Do I think Dean could also be irresponsible (losing food money on gambling)? Yep. Do I think this makes Dean a bad person, or even a bad brother? No. He was just a kid himself.

So, this is where I balk at the reading of Dean as Sam's "real", selfless, supportive father, or mother stand in. Even at the time of Season 1 and 2, which were peak seasons for supportive and empathetic Dean, for me, he can still be a dick. Children and teenagers who grew up to be amazing people can even start out as jerks. So, I don’t understand where this idea of a perfect father-figure Dean comes in, especially when he wasn’t even a perfect father figure to Ben as an adult (snapping at him, pushing him and smacking him in times of peak danger). He was Sam’s protector, absolutely, but not this super-human provider of protection, and giver of affection and cuddles, that some fans insist on seeing him as. Dean, despite his heroism, bravery and love for Sam, is still a flawed character. And that’s okay. He was a brave and protective kid in a difficult situation, but he wasn’t perfect. When we woobify Dean, we miss out on the complete character and who he actually is, good and bad.

Sam: The Spoiled Selfish Brat?

Do I think that Sam almost come off as a little bit callous regarding his family when we first meet him? Yes. When the show begins, do I think Sam is maybe a bit arogant and ignorant to some of the things Dean did for him growing up? Yes. But, do I totally blame him for the latter? No, because he wasn’t told much by Dean or John, and he was a child when a lot of things happened. Does the fact that Dean started hunting at a younger age, and didn’t tell Sam about it at first, make Sam sheltered? Yes and no. I would argue that he’s been more sheltered than Dean regarding hunting, but he also begins hunting when he’s pretty little. In "just my Imagination" we see that Sam gets permission to joint John and Dean on his first hunt (by taking a bus alone, no less) when he’s 9. Even if Sam was more often the research guy than the actively hunting guy, he was still exposed to a lot of crazy crap and lived in near constant fear for himself, his brother and his dad. The fact that Dean started hunting before Sam also suggests that Sam spent more time fully alone than Dean did, not to mention, a lot of the time, Dean liked hunting and thought it was cool, and he did it with his dad who he idolized. So, while Sam was physically safer, more removed from the action, he also didn’t get the perceived "perks" (it feels weird to call them that) that Dean had, or to be with his family as often. So, do I think Sam is selfish for leaving a dangerous situation, where he was often lonely, to go away to school? Um, no. Do I blame Sam for feeling differently about family than Dean when he was also often the odd man out? Nope. We know that when there was family turmoil, Dean usually sided with John or at least appeared to (Dean himself says this a couple times). Finally, do I think Sam is spoiled or selfish for leaving his family at 18 (like many young adults do around the world) to get an education, on a full-ride scholarship that he somehow earned despite their crazy lifestyle, and escape a literally life-threatening mission and turbulent home life. Yeah, no. Do I feel bad for Dean who desperately wants his family to stay together? Absolutely, I sympathize more with him than Sam at first in the show. However, I think a lot of the things people hate on Sam for are actually pretty understandable or justified in the early seasons. So, it’s just as damaging to vilify Sam as it is to woobify Dean because we miss so much important detail about the characters. The same is true of the reverse, woobifying Sam and vilifying Dean, but I just don’t see that as often in this fandom.

The Winchester Family Experience: Dean vs Sam's Perspectives

So, another thing that I think gets ignored a lot is just how different Sam and Dean's early, early years are. Dean had almost five years of "normal" family life (Dean being born in January and Mary being killed in November of his forth year around the sun). That’s a tragically short amount of time with his family being whole, but Dean did know safety, comfort, love and affection in his earliest years, and those things leave impressions. In the opening scene of the pilot, we see an adorable little Dean kissing his baby brother goodnight, and getting affection from both parents, and even a hug from a comparatively soft John. In Contrast, what were Sam's earliest years like? From the time that Sam would be old enough to remember, all he knew was that he had no mom, but wasn’t allowed to talk about her. He had an older brother that he looked up to and who watched over him, but who was keeping secrets from him. And he had a grief and revenge fueled father who barked orders, was gone a lot of the time and who seemingly only ever hugged him in fearful relief as a child (from what we see as an audience), not in casual affection. Sam had no foundation of safety, or comfort. So, is it any wonder that he can’t see family, or their family, in the same way Dean does? The fact that Dean had that time to bond with John, and got to experience some softness does matter because, even though he had more responsibility thrust on his shoulders than Sam, he also had an earned connection with his dad, and at least some warm memories to fall back on.

Saying "I Love You"

I think it’s interesting how their different early childhood experiences, potentially as well as their temperaments, not only shaped who they are as people, but their ability to express emotions. In this case, I’m going to focus in on verbally expressing love in particular because this post Is getting very long.

Dean says "I love you" to a heaven Memory!Mary in "Dark Side of the Moon." He also tells a Mary inside her own head that he loves and hates her. He says, "I love you for trying," when Sam is begging him not to lock himself up in a metal box at the bottom of the ocean with Micheal locked up in his head. He says, "I love you, too" to John when he’s about to disappear in "Lebanon." And finally, he says "I love you … so much" to Sam in "Carry On." Dean's 'I love yous" are few and far between, but he can say it, and he only says it to his I’m immediate family. (Unless I’m missing someone.). It’s not like I think people have to say it all the time, and those words can be hard to say for a lot of people (myself included), but he CAN say them directly to the people he loves.

Sam says "I love you" to a Hellucination!Jess and to his mom's grave stone. Also, I believe he says it to Mary on the phone once? He says, "You’re my brother, and I still love ya" to Dean in "Sam, Interrupted." Can we count it if he’s tripping balls on medication and he says "ya" instead of "you"? Well, I’m going to. He also tells Dean, "We all love you," which I half-count because he lumped other people into his declaration. Sam does tell a young John that he loves his dad ("The Song Remains the Same”), but John doesn’t know he’s talking about him at the time, so it’s not entirely a direct declaration. And, I think, that’s it. So, does the fact that Sam says it less directly to his immediate family mean he doesn't love them? No, obviously. But, I think it’s interesting that the brother who had no memory of "happy family" (I know things weren't actually perfect with John and Mary) is the one who seems to have a harder time saying "I love you" directly, and with his full chest, to family. This sort of tells me that a) Sam, by nature has a harder time expressing deep emotion or b) Sam didn’t hear it much, or ever even, as a little kid, so it’s hard for him to say the words, especially directly.

So, why did I go down the "I love you" rabbit hole? Well, I think it has some merit in the whole Dean is Selfness and was a martyr vs Sam was selfish and spoiled debate. It also shows how close both brothers keep the verbal expression of that feeling to themselves. Obviously, both brothers are bigger on show than tell in terms of expressing love. Selling your soul or potentially dooming the world for each other tends to get the message across.

In short, both brothers are selfless and selfish at times, and both are flawed but heroic. If we stan one brother so hard that we refuse to see their faults while constantly vilifying the other, we miss all the nuance in the story. It’s really a disservice to ourselves to woobify characters, not in the harmless, "Sam/Dean Winchester has never done anything wrong in his life. End post" kind of way, but in the "This charter is perfect and only did good things, and never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, and … and … and" kind of way.

Anyway, if anyone made it this far, thank you for coming along with me on my bumpy rambling road of thought on this. If I missed any "I love yous" from Sam or Dean, or if you’d like to chime in on the topic, I’d love to hear it.

#supernatural #sam and dean #SPN meta #my thoughts #sam winchester #dean winchester #the boys as boys #John winchester mentions #against the wooification of characters #thanks to the gif makers #not my edits

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ultra-violet-heart · 5 months

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THE 2018 DENGEKI BUNKO INTERVIEW WITH 86--EIGHTY-SIX AUTHOR ASATO ASATO

Disclaimer: This translation is made by me for fandom purposes only. This interview, conducted in 2017, gives major insights on how the sci-fi mecha series 86--EIGHTY-SIX was conceived and written before it eventually won the Dengeki Novel Prize back in 2016.

Please ask my permission and credit me+this post if you will be re-translating this to other languages. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON YOUTUBE AND TIKTOK AND PLEASE DO NOT REPOST THE IMAGES ON THIS INTERVIEW. Please take the fan translations here with a grain of salt.

Credits to @Yashamise from Twitter for copies of this Dengeki Bunko Kono Light Novel ga Sugoi magazine.

Erratum: This interview was conducted and printed in 2017, but this Kono Light Novel ga Sugoi magazine is dated 2018 as an advance issue of sorts. This interview has been summarized here. My apologies for the title.

I’m posting my Ko-Fi here as currently, I’ve been having financial trouble regarding my medicine, so if anyone can donate, I would be much grateful for the help, thank you very much.

AN INTERVIEW WITH 86--EIGHTY-SIX AUTHOR ASATO ASATO

“I wrote what I liked, in the way I liked them,” this author says. This tale is filled with the grief from war, the ugliness of racial discrimination, as well as the romance of mechas and of garter belts! In this interview, she reveals to us everything about its roots and its appeal!

Text and Composition: My Street

Illustrator: Shirabii

Translator’s Note: For purposes of this interview translation, the interviewer will be labelled as “MS” for My Street, since they layouted and probably conducted this transcribed interview. Also, for words that have brackets or parenthesis:

{} = implied by context

() = given emphasis/given parenthesis in the interview itself

[] = included in the footnotes/translator’s notes

A robot lover as far as she could remember

MS: Thank you very much for your time today for this interview. It was surprising to learn that the author {for 86--EIGHTY-SIX}, Ms. Asato, is a woman.

ASATO: I get that a lot (haha). My family says the contents of my work is just “the usual {for Asato}” though. I think my Afterwords have the impression they’re written by a woman, and I never hid that in particular (haha).

MS: This year {2018}, 86--EIGHTY-SIX placed first in the New Works category and second in the bunkobon {paperback} category overall. How do you feel about this now?

ASATO: I’m very happy. I knew of KonoRano’s existence [1], so I was hoping {86--EIGHTY-SIX} might be listed there somewhere, but it was a surprise that it placed higher than expected. As I said in this interview’s foreword: “I wrote what I liked, in the way I liked them.” I’m thankful that many readers found it interesting.

MS: For readers who haven’t heard of 86--EIGHTY-SIX, can you give us a summary of this work?

ASATO: It’s a lively, filled-with-clanks story of the protagonist Shin, his merry band of thieves, and their remotely-working-class-president Lena. [2] (LOL)

MS: 86--EIGHTY-SIX is your debut work. Can you tell us about the time you started writing this work?

ASATO: I’ve been writing ever since I can remember, and I started with writing manga {scripts}. I switched to writing novels around before I started junior high school and have been writing them ever since.

MS: You’ve been interested in robots and military-related things ever since elementary school, is that right?

ASATO: Yes, that’s correct. My mother liked {Space Battleship} Yamato [3] and Gundam, and as I have a younger brother, I got into watching and reading anime and manga targeted at boys. I was rarely exposed to anime and manga targeted at girls. We had the Mobile Suit Gundam movie trilogy [4] at home (which I’ve seen many times), and I also watched The Brave Police J-Decker [5] and The Brave Express Might Gaine [6], as well as other shows in The Brave [7] series. The only anime I had watched that is {targeted at girls} is Magic Knight Rayearth [8], which is another story with robots fighting in it (haha).

MS: I reckon such an environment led you to writing 86--EIGHTY-SIX. Can you tell us about your writing process?

ASATO: I originally submitted {works} to the Kadokawa Beans [9] Bunko Newcomer Awards. I avoided the Dengeki Novel Prize as it was rather {too hard to enter} due to the large number of entries [10] there. The novel entry I made on the 21st year of the Dengeki Novel Prize (2014), however, was totally not aimed at women at all, so I didn’t have any other choice but to submit that to said contest, as it has the closest deadline. It was a sci-fi fantasy work, with a theme of redemption, set on a time before and after {a} revolution. At that time, I thought, maybe I can go past beyond the 3rd round of screenings and unexpectedly, maybe placed on a good spot? However, the evaluation I got from the judges were “This is a 100% a work targeted at girls” and “Next time, we hope you will submit a work that should be Dengeki Bunko-like”. As Dengeki Bunko [11] is an all-kinds-of-genre publication, I didn’t know what ‘Dengeki Bunko-like’ even meant. I thought about it a lot but couldn’t figure it out, so I just kept on writing and finished my next entry, which is 86--EIGHTY-SIX.

MS: How did you come up with the idea and structure of 86, a war drama where unmanned drones and “unmanned manned drones” battle each other?

ASATO: I once read a newspaper article whose main message was “It won’t be good if a country sends its citizens to war, but it shouldn’t be a problem if they made an army of foreigners fight in their stead.” In that case, I felt very afraid that other people will be forced to fight instead of us, with the idea of “those aren’t people, but drones” justifying this and everyone just allowing it {to happen}.

MS: As written in Volume 1’s Afterword, looking back at history, it. is true that racism and racial exclusion existed to no small extent. So, why did you decide to incorporate “racism” into your work?

ASATO: Ever since I started writing novels, I have repeatedly written about boundary lines between “human beings and those who are human but not treated as human beings”, with 86--EIGHTY-SIX being in a similar vein. One of the bases for this is probably the class discrimination found in Final Fantasy Tactics [12], for example. A character there, Argath, who is an aristocrat, tells a commoner character: “But the gods have no eyes for chattel! [12]” This line has stayed with me ever since. After that, I continued to write with the motifs of “human beings and livestock in human form” and “human and those considered not humans”. I think BLACK/MATRIX+ [13] influenced me as well. This game deals with ethnic discrimination, set in a world where black-winged people are ruled over by white-winged people. In there, those who were discriminated against were treated harshly. They were treated like livestock, with the game having this line of, “Why is a mere slave like you wearing clothes?”

MS: Do you often play games?

ASATO: When my gaming consoles weren’t connected yet to the Internet, I used to play a lot of RPGs. I’m not good at action games. I did play a lot of Final Fantasy, like Final Fantasy VI, Tactics, VIII, IX, and X [14].

MS: Are there other works which influenced you? I wonder if there’s something similar like the war situation in Knights of Sidonia [15], which was mentioned in Volume 1’s afterword.

ASATO: I often watch a lot of robot shows, Knights of Sidonia included. In addition to the Gundam series mentioned earlier, I also watched Full Metal Panic [16] and Gunparade March: A New Song for the March [17]. It’s not a robot series, but I also have read Battle Faery Yukikaze [18] over and over. I like {literary} structures where the protagonist side is overwhelmingly inferior while the antagonist side is the superior one. I want to see the flow of emotions from the characters more than the fight scenes themselves. I think emotions such as fear, resignation and desperation show more in situations where {characters} are hopelessly in a big disadvantage. Winning a battle by domination can be exhilarating, yes, but those other emotions don’t show as much during that. That’s why I prefer for the protagonists to win through unrefined and tenacious means, rather than them winning by outsmarting {enemies}.

The work’s influences from horror films and in-depth military research

MS: The Legion are getting more ominous, and the deteriorating situation for Shin and his group is putting them on a very big disadvantage, if I’m not mistaken.

ASATO: 86--EIGHTY-SIX has been influenced more by horror movies than robot anime, with it being based on movies such as The Mist [19] and Screamers [20]. Mist is a horror story where the protagonists get trapped in a supermarket due to a mysterious fog and monsters, and the people gradually lose their ability to make rational judgments as they are unable to defend themselves or escape, without any rescue in sight. This horror movie has a great ending, so I’m inviting you all to watch it without further spoilers. 86--EIGHTY-SIX was initially set as a novel about a fog of nanomachines covering the walls outside of the Republic, and the “Legion” being an aggregation of said nanomachines. However, that kind of thing couldn’t exactly be defeated by conventional weapons, so it was rejected at the setting phase. These elements from this setting, however, were retained in the form of Volume 1’s final boss character and the appearance of those electromagnetic jammers clouding the sun.

MS: It’s rather surprising this came from a horror setting.

ASATO: The other {inspiration mentioned earlier}, Screamers, is a sci-fi horror film where autonomous war weapons evolved on their own and went out of control. In 86--EIGHTY-SIX, the Self-Propelled Mines, which look like wounded soldiers, are based on Screamers. The work is rather interesting as one has no ideas who their enemies are and everything else looks suspicious.

MS: So you have a situation like this, and you applied what kind of emotions you want to be shown in that situation, correct?

ASATO: Yes. Looking back, I think I was strongly influenced by the novel Chaos Legion [21] {in this regard}. Shin’s Personal Mark, which has a shovel on it, was influenced by his special ability as well as his role being the “Undertaker” responsible for collecting the fragments of his comrade-in-arms’ {Feldreẞ} units.

MS: The more I hear about it, it seems this work is really packed full of things {you} like.

ASATO: While I was writing this, I played the Black Hawk Down [22] movie repeatedly instead of just background music. It’s also a favorite {movie} of mine.

MS: I would like to ask you about military-related matters. What kind of material did you use for your research?

ASATO: I borrowed all relevant materials I use from the library, so I don’t have any specific references… About racial discrimination, I read materials about Nazi Germany [23], the internment camps in US as well as the 442nd Infantry Regiment [24] and Scroll of Agony: The Warsaw Ghetto Diary [25]. As for the weapons, the Juggernaut and the Legion are based and patterned from tanks, so I’ve read materials dating back from World War II [26] as well as the Gulf War [26], where 120mm tanks were the main weapons used. The Juggernaut’s 57mm cannon wasn’t used very often, so I had a difficult time finding research material for it. The unit itself is based on the M551 Sheridan [27]. This airborne assault tank has aluminum alloy armor, but the Juggernaut reflects the pitiful aspect of said flimsy armor which explodes upon impact by any stray attack.

MS: Why did you make the Juggernaut and the Legion multi-legged tanks?

ASATO: Because it’s romantic! I love multi-legged tanks! My first exposure with them is the X-ATM092 [28], a spider-shaped mobile unit from FFVIII. The loud, resounding footsteps it produced as it chased you away was very scary, and it left this impression of being a symbol of a very powerful weapon. I also like Ghost in the Shell’s Tachikoma [29] and the Tobigumo from the Swallowtail novel series [30]. In reality, multi-legged tank units aren’t really fast enough, and there is too much ground pressure for those to actually carry a 120mm cannon… but I make up for it with my imagination (LOL)

A character that embodies the idea of “to be human” walks alone

MS: Concerning those people called “Eighty-Six”, what do you think it means “to be human”, which you tried to depict in Volume 1?

ASATO: What I tried to depict in this work is “to respect other human beings, and to live without regrets.” However, I don’t think everything I wrote in this main part is actually correct. I think this is the answer the “Eighty-Six” came up with due to the environment they lived in. In Volume 2, the stage now shifts to the Federacy, so the theme there is now what will happen if said environment has changed.

MS: In Volume 2, I see this as a story where the “Eighty-Six”, who managed to get safety for the time being, nevertheless still returned to the battlefield. I think this sentiment was portrayed very well.

ASATO: Volume 3 will focus on what happens inside {Shin’s head} after he made that choice, so please look forward to that. After all, they don’t feel safe even after coming to the Federal Republic of Giad. And the war against the Legion isn’t over yet. Since the Eighty-Six think they will not survive if they don’t fight, I think they will continue to fight until the Legion disappeared. Then… what will they do after the Legion are eventually gone? …They will certainly have to think about that in the future as well.

MS: Do you have a favorite among all the characters?

ASATO: It’s Raiden. Of course, I love the two protagonists, Shin and Lena, but Shin isn’t really a very cooperative character with me, so I have a certain attachment to Raiden, who provides much support. Instead of simply just crafting the plot, I write in a way that captures how each character would act in line with {the type of} world I've created. That’s why I do not know what the characters think, what goals they have, or what pasts they bear unless they “talk” to me. Shin is not the type {of character} to talk about anything in particular, and he doesn’t even say anything much except for his name. It wasn’t until I finished writing that climax of a battle in Volume 1 that I realized what he was fighting for. After I wrote it, I was like, “Huh?! So, this is it?!” and was surprised as the author (LOL).

MS: So, you didn’t think about Shin’s background at first?

ASATO: Yes, that’s right. During that climax, I finally understood {everything} concerning Shin, so I went back on that part and wrote the details that I then added.

MS: So even at the plotting stage, you haven’t put together the {setting and background} for each of the characters?

ASATO: To begin with, when I wrote Volume 1, I haven’t even made a plot. I didn’t even have a story structure in particular, and just wrote while letting the characters act. The first time I finished this volume, the last two pages were still missing, but Shin brought them to me, saying, “Sure enough, write up to this far.”

MS: What happened after Volume 2?

ASATO: I have submitted the plot… but stressed on the important scene that “I won’t know everything until I write it” then submitted it. As a result of this, only the boss character from Volume 3 remained in that plot I submitted. {I caused} my editors a lot of trouble.

MS: How did Frederica (the character) come to be?

ASATO: Frederica is a character with a part further on in the series, so I intended to debut her in Volume 2. As I was writing her, however, it seemed she and Shin have similarities on what they carry on their backs. Since then, she acts as a mirror to Shin. As Shin is a character who is not very good at grasping his own emotions, {I had Frederica} serve as the one who verbalizes those emotions. I wondered then, what does it mean to have a 10-year-old verbalize {another person’s feelings}? (LOL) I simply wanted to show a little girl. In Volume 2, the heroine, Lena, is absent, but I can’t have another girl the same age as her as this volume’s heroine… and so, under this pretext, I brought out {Frederica as} the little girl heroine.

MS: For some reason, I thought there’s other many works featuring little girls in the battlefield.

ASATO: If this were about a real battlefield, it would have been filled with old men. I like older men soldier characters, so that would have been fun to see, but I don’t think readers would find that interesting. Cute little girls adding a touch of color {to a work} is important (LOL).

MS: Did you decide on the setting from the start?

ASATO: The setting was generally decided from the beginning. The scenes were written out as needed. For example, regarding the battlefield, the Legion are ground-based weapons, and it would be troubling if they’re easily eradicated by aircraft weapons. That’s why {I had} the Eintagsfliege, a Legion unit which has jamming, and restricted the use of aircraft and communication devices. This, however, would have prevented Shin and Lena from communicating with each other, so I then devised the special communication device called the Para-RAID.

MS: How deeply did you think about this world’s setting on itself?

ASATO: The necessary scenes have been chosen in detail, otherwise, the rest of the details aren’t fixed. For example, it’s not in the main story, but the Republic’s population has already been decided upon. It’s the reverse with the countries on the edge of the continent that aren’t scheduled to appear, as they might have a Chinese-like culture… that’s all I thought of it right now. There’s also this “sensory tuning”, which hasn’t been written in the setting yet, but is scheduled to be involved in the future part of the plot. However, as I said just a short while ago, the story {as a whole} is influenced greatly by how the characters act, so it depends on them to make the best use of the setting. From this point on, who will survive and who will die… is something that I still don’t know.

MS: Is it still unknown how the war against the Legion will move forward?

ASATO: The basic points {for that} have been decided, with the foreshadowing being built onto step by step. However, it is up to those two, Shin and Lena, if they will follow suit. (LOL)

MS: What about the Legion, then?

ASATO: About the Legion, the setting about them has been solidly established, including the future boss characters. However, I can’t say anything about them yet. Details about them have been foreshadowed little by little. I write hoping the readers will be surprised by this later.

The love for garter belts explodes! A talk about eroticism

MS: Changing the subject, what it is about your particular fixation towards garter belts [31] and pilot suits [32], both of which you spoke so passionately about in your Afterwords?

ASATO: About the pilot suits, on the outline for volume 2, I wrote "I don’t want men’s pilot suits paired with ground-based armaments!!!" using half of the A4 outline paper and submitted that (LOL). I’ve wondered whether pilot suits are really necessary, apart from space or aircraft or even ground battles. I’ve my doubts about it, and with said doubts I don’t want {characters} just wearing pilot suits, even in a robot thing. I do agree with the editor-in-charge about “Female pilot suits are justice!” so Lena wearing a pilot suit is scheduled to appear in the future [32]. After all, the garter belt shows a good place between sexy and cute. I think the eroticism {from the garter belt} dwells in its self-contradictory element: it’s just one additional item {in a set of clothes}, and somehow manages to show more skin―I think that’s the charm of the garter belt. In particular, if the color {of the garter belt} contrasts strongly with the skin color {of the wearer}, the impression of bare skin is more emphasized in spite of the wearer. Because of this, I think it’s wonderful that Shirabii colored the belt part {of Lena’s garter belts} black.

MS: It’s amazing the garter belt drawn by Shirabii has the functions of both a belt and a ring, isn’t it?

ASATO: Furthermore, Lena’s military uniform, a garment that is very much seen in public, has garter belts, which are usually private items, and I think that adds further to her ambivalent charm even more. As a matter of fact, at first, I argued that it would be better if {her} thighs were not visible all the time but could be glimpsed at occasionally, but after a 2 AM discussion with the editors-in-charge while looking at the rough draft of the cover art, they convinced me that “That ‘occasionally’ should be now!”, and we settled on its current form. The ideal situation {we have} was when {Lena} lifts her legs up and a glimpse of the black lace garter can be seen through the slit of {her} dress. However, as Lena is a prim and proper lady, the only situation I can think of where she lifts her legs while wearing a dress is when she is about to wear heels… I’ll have to ask Shin to do his best on this one.

MS: Rather a difficult situation, isn’t it?

ASATO: It’s Shin, after all. Also, a military uniform with pretty boy shorts + sock garters is also cute, and as Theo hasn’t appeared with his military uniform yet, I’m thinking to add that to his outfit now… (LOL). However, middle-aged soldier uncles shouldn’t show their bare legs with shirt garters! (Editor’s note: Please Google “shirt garters” for more info)

MS: Are there any {role/inspiring} models for your characters?

ASATO: Basically, none. However, as mentioned earlier, Shin is partly inspired by Sieg Wahrheit [33] from Chaos Legion, while Lena is partly inspired by General Garrison [34] from Black Hawk Down. In the film, {Garrison} is placed on a situation where he could do nothing but only communicate with his subordinates in adverse circumstances, and this inspired Lena’s position {in the series}. In Black Hawk Down, many characters died before we even understood them, and I think that influenced 86--EIGHTY-SIX as well.

MS: That’s right. They die when the chapters change. When you are writing, you’re writing without knowing who is going to die, isn’t it?

ASATO: There are some characters whose manner of death came to mind as I was writing them. I think they’re good kids, but I have no choice but to let them face their fates (oops).

MS: If the names of the Eighty-Six characters were names of Japanese people, would they still make good names?

ASATO: Yes. All their names can be written in kanji. For example, Shin’s surname, “Nouzen” is from the kanji of the Chinese trumpet creeper (凌霄花) {pronounced as “nouzenkazura”} [35]. I actually like the arrangement of the kanji {from that plant} within the kanji for “surpassing the sky” (霄を凌ぐ) {pronounced as “sora wo shinogu”}. If you use the same kanji and put the honorific (君) {pronounced as “kun”} on it, you can form the characters for the Eurasian goshawk (凌霄君) {pronounced as “ryoshoukun”} [36]. This is also a reference to Shin’s image, as he does resemble a hawk.

What’s next for this series? There’s so much more to write about!

MS: What will happen in Volume 3 of 86--EIGHTY-SIX? [37]

ASATO: It will be properly connected to Volume 1’s Epilogues, so please don’t worry about that. The battle scenes, which were limited in Volume 2, will be much increased here. It might be even tragic.

EDITOR KIYOSE: This paperback series will, of course, continue to be serialized, and the series will also be expanded into various adaptations such as comics [38] and other various media. This work will have a lot of side stories, so we hope you will all appreciate this series as a whole.

MS: Can you please tell us about the future developments of 86--EIGHTY-SIX?

ASATO: The stage has shifted to the Federacy from Volume 2, and as the war situation gets more violent, the environment surrounding the Eighty-Six and the others is about to deteriorate further. There will be new enemies for mankind to face, and their own numerous personal conflicts standing on their way one by one. However, they have survived far difficult circumstances up until now, and since Lena will join them in earnest by Volume 4, I think they will still survive, stubbornly, shamelessly, and boisterously. However, I really wouldn’t know what would happen unless I write them. (LOL)

MS: How many volumes does this series will have?

ASATO: Currently, I'm thinking of around 13 volumes. The war against the Legion has a general flow and an ending in sight already, so I'd like to get to that point first. In addition to that, I’d like to like to write a side story about Raiden and Shin when they just first met, if I have the opportunity [39]. There’s so much more I want to write about. From Volume 4 onward, countries other than the Federacy will be related, and there’s plans to stretch out the stage even more. The Queen's Knights [40], led by Lena, will also make their appearance. I think there might be some slight surprises about Shiden, who first appeared in Volume 2.

MS: Lastly, any message for the readers who have supported you and the series?

ASATO: I was never active on the web at all, and I was totally an unknown newcomer writer. I believe the reason why I and the 86--EIGHTY-SIX series have come this far is due to the readers who picked up the books and supported us. So, everyone, I will do my best to write bringing Shin and Lena and the Eighty-Six’s battle to conclusion, so from this point on, I look forward to your continued support!

{End of Interview}

Translator’s Notes (Most of the blurbs here are taken from respective relevant Wikipedia articles, and the notes also include the Magazine Notes from the actual interview):

[1] Kono Light Novel Ga Sugoi: Kono Light Novel ga Sugoi! (このライトノベルがすごい!, lit. This Light Novel is Amazing!) is an annual light novel guidebook published by Takarajimasha. The guidebook publishes a list of the top ten most popular light novels according to readers polled on the Internet and votes from critics, influencers, and other people related to the light novel industry. 86--EIGHTY-SIX ranked 2nd and 5th in the bunkobon category here in 2018 and 2019.

[2] Lena is the class president of Class 2-E in the 86--EIGHTY-SIX Operation High School spin-off side stories and the manga. This is probably among the first references to said spin-off.

[3] Space Battleship Yamato: one of Japan’s most influential sci-fi/mecha series, a Japanese science fiction anime series produced and written by Yoshinobu Nishizaki, directed by manga artist Leiji Matsumoto, and produced by Academy Productions.

[4] Mobile Suit Gundam: The first series in this very popular Japanese military science fiction media franchise, it was re-released into a film trilogy in 1981.

[5] The Brave Police J-Decker: The fifth installment in the Barve series.

[6] The Brave Express Might Gaine: The fourth installment in the Brave series.

[7] The Brave mecha and sci-fi series: a Japanese toy and anime franchise Brave series made by Takara and Sunrise, and currently owned by Bandai Namco.

[8] Magic Knight Rayearth: a mecha, fantasy and isekai shoujo manga series made by the all-female manga artist group CLAMP.

[9] Kadokawa BEANS Bunko Award: The contest launched by Kadokawa’s female-focused light novel imprint, Kadokawa Beans Bunko.

[10] Dengeki Novel Prize: a literary award handed out annually (since 1994) by the Japanese publisher ASCII Media Works for their Dengeki Bunko light novel imprint, spearheaded by parent company Kadokawa. It is among Japan’s largest light novel contests, with more than 4500 entries submitted annually. 86--EIGHTY-SIX won 1st place in the Rookie Awards category in 2016, launching it to the spotlight.

[11] Dengeki Bunko: a publishing imprint affiliated with Kadokawa’s ASCII Media Works. Many anime adaptations from light novels were published by Dengeki Bunko, including 86--EIGHTY-SIX.

[12] [Magazine Note 1] Final Fantasy Tactics: A tactical simulation RPG released in 1997. The socially conscious storyline, which tackled friction between nations and the gap between the rich and the poor, became very much a hot topic during its time.

Please take note I used the Final Fantasy Tactics: The War of the Lions translation here as contextually I believe this translation has more in line with EIGHTY-SIX than the translation of the actual game Asato played, which is the original Final Fantasy Tactics. Also, Argath vs Algus :3

[13] [Magazine Note 2] BLACK/MATRIX+: A tactical simulation RPG for Sega Saturn, with the PlayStation port released in 1998. It has a unique setting where virtue and vice are said to be reversed.

[14] Final Fantasy: a fantasy anthology media franchise, first and mainly developed as RPGs, owned, published, and distributed by Square Enix. Currently this franchise has 16 main series game releases. One of these games, Final Fantasy VIII, has its main soundtrack (“Eyes on Me” by Faye Wong) featured on the Afterword of 86--EIGHTY-SIX Volume 7: Mist.

[15] Knights of Sidonia: A sci-fi/mecha seinen manga, made by Tsutomu Nihei and ran from 2009-2015 in Kodansha’s Monthly Afternoon magazine. Its anime adaptation, which ran for two seasons, was produced by Polygon Pictures and aired from 2014 to 2015.

[16] Full Metal Panic!: a series of mecha light novels written by Shoji Gatoh and illustrated by Shiki Douji, published by Kadokawa’s Fujimi Fantasia Bunko and ran from 1998-2011. Its anime adaptations were produced by Gonzo, Kyoto Animation and Xebec respectively, from 2003 to 2018.

[17] Gunparade March: A New Song for the March: The anime adaptation for the Playstation video game Gunparade March, produced by J.C. Staff and aired in 2003.

[18] Battle Faery Yukikaze: a Japanese military science fiction novel series written by Chouhei Kambayashi. Its five-episode OVA adaptation ran from 2002-2005.

[19] [Magazine Note 3] Mist: A 2007 film based on the award-winning science fiction horror novella by Stephen King.

[20] [Magazine Note 4] Screamers: A 1995 futuristic science fiction horror film, based on Phillip K. Dick’s novelette “Second Variety”.

[21] [Magazine Note 5] Chaos Legion: A mixed-media action RPG released in 2003, getting a novelization by Tow Ubukata.

[22] [Magazine Note 6] Black Hawk Down: A 2001 war movie. Based on a non-fiction work about an actual urban war between international forces and guerillas that occurred in Somalia. The film depicts how a UH-60 Black Hawk gets taken down and this being dragged into a war situation.

[23] This is a very extensive subject, so please feel free to check out Nazi Germany on Wikipedia to get at least an overview.

[24] Another extensive subject, so feel free to check out 442nd Infantry Regiment on Wikipedia to get an overview.

[25] [Magazine Note 7] Scroll of Agony: The Warsaw Ghetto Diary: A diary kept by a Jewish teacher, {Chaim A. Kaplan}. It described the persecution and pillaging by the Nazis, as well as the three harsh years of {Kaplan’s} life.

Printed in Japan as (ワルシャワ・ゲットー日記―ユダヤ人教師の記録 or “Warsaw Ghetto Diary: A Jewish Teacher’s Record”), with Kaplan implied to have died in 1942 when he was sent to the Treblinka death camp along with other Warsaw Jews.

[26] Another extensive subject, so feel free to check out World War II on Wikipedia to get an overview. Feel free to also check out Gulf War on Wikipedia to get an overview on this topic.

[27] [Magazine Note 8] M551 Sheridan: an American tank developed to be amphibious, airborne tank. Its body was made of aluminum alloy to help reduce weight, but this made it vulnerable to anti-tank weapons and land mines, and it could explode when the shells it’s equipped with are triggered.

[28] X-ATM092: A spider-like robot boss enemy found in Final Fantasy VIII.

[29] Tachikoma: a blue-colored AI walker/roller tank that looks like a spider in the Ghost in the Shell cyberpunk media franchise.

[30] Swallowtail series: The sci-fi novel series written by Chitose Touma and published by Dengeki Bunko in 2008. The series is about artificial fairies, androids created in the form of humans, to be companions to still-living humans after parts of Tokyo’s population were wiped out in a pandemic, and one of these fairies, Ageha, is investigating a serial killer causing destruction. The work also has this multi-legged armored tank called “Tobigumo”. So far as I know this mecha doesn’t have official art, however, a fanart can be found in Pixiv here.

[31] [Magazine Note 9] Garter: They’re suspenders of sorts. “Garter belt” is the term for {a fabric strap which} which is clipped on over-the-knee socks or stockings. Having no shorts above garters is righteous! between the rich and the poor, became very much a hot topic during its time.

Asato’s interest in garter belts is not only shown in the novels, but also in the anime, which is noted to have a lot of thigh shots of Lena wearing said garter belts.

[32] [Magazine Note 10] Pilot suit: In this case, this is the type of suit that sticks really close to the body. As it shows the body lines quite clearly, it’s considered quite fetishistic.

In the current time, 86--EIGHTY-SIX Volume 5: Death, Be Not Proud, has already been published, and Lena did wear the Cicada, which is Asato’s homage to pilot suits.

[33] Sieg Wahrheit: the protagonist of Chaos Legion.

[34] William F. Garrison: a retired major general of the United States Army who commanded United States forces during Operation Gothic Serpent including the Battle of Mogadishu, which served as an inspiration for the novel Black Hawk Down.

[35] The Chinese trumpet creeper, a native flowering vine species found in East Asia, usually in China, can mean “fame”, “honor”, “glory”, “abundant love” and “life filled with flowers” in the flower language.

[36] Eurasian goshawk: a medium-large bird-of-prey found in Europe and Asia and is among the species considered as “true” hawks. The kanji used in the article actually just refers to how Shinei Nouzen looks like a hawk, but upon further examination of said kanji in this reference, it pertained to that goshawk as well.

[37] Volume 3 of 86--EIGHTY-SIX was just about to be released in Japan around the moment this article was published, serving as a promotion of sorts.

[38] Several manga adaptations of 86--EIGHTY-SIX have been published as of current time. For more information, please check out this 86 Reddit Manga FAQ for further details.

[39] Besides Volume 1, Eighty-Six’s Interlude: Headless Knight II, Asato has managed to write this in the side stories Volume 10, Fragmental Neoteny Chapter 8: The Banks of Lethe and Alter.1: Claymore Squadron.

[40] The Queen’s Knights, formally known as the Brísingamen Squadron, was the squadron Lena became the Handler with after the Spearhead Squadron was sent on the Special Reconnaissance Mission. It was led by Shiden Iida and was pivotal in the Republic of San Magnolia’s defense during the 1st Legion Large Scale Offensive.

#86 eighty six #86 #エイティシックス #86 ーエイティシックスー #86 エイティシックス #86 anime #asato asato #dengeki bunko #86 light novel #86--EIGHTY-SIX #eighty six #vladilena milizé #shinei nouzen #安里アサト

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ineffable-rohese · 7 months

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Oh hey, I've gotten a few followers/mutuals, so I guess it's time for a pinned intro post?

Demographic info (because it gives context to my words): Early 40s white fat cis queer poly pagan woman living in the wet corner of North America. My nearest and dearest are almost all trans/non-binary.

Personal (public facing): I'm an Aziraphale-coded hobbit. Like, so cozy and wholesome you might want to puke. I rewatch just the first disc of the LOTR extended edition because I love the Shire so much. I drink Earl Grey with milk and one sugar. (Or a good scotch, cause every Aziraphale needs a little bit of Crowley inside them, right Sheenie?) I read mainly historical fiction, especially anything set in (actual, not fantasy) medieval Europe and I was at one point a medieval music history nerd. I wear cozy sweaters. I love rain on ferns and April flowers. I make soup with things I've tended and harvested. I work a Wholesome AF job. I unironically hug trees. I'm deeply in love with the world.

Personal (in private): I'm deeply kinky. I'm primarily a Sensual Sadist with a significant Dominant streak. I often play as a Panther. I absolutely love consensual violence, and get great joy from hurting people who want me to hurt them. I've only really given myself permission to be that in the last year or so.

Fandoms: I fell in love with Good Omens in 2000 when a college roommate gave it to me. It was genuinely the funniest, greatest thing I had ever read, and I evangelized about it to anyone who would listen. S1 of the show immediately became a comfort show, and it got me through a time of massive loss and upheaval. I put it on when everything was too hard and I needed something that made me feel like everything was going to be OK. S2 - well we're all here still, aren't we? It dropped when I desperately needed One Good Thing for my brain to latch on to as I got through some intense pressure, and boy howdy did it lodge itself in me.

Other fandoms in roughly chronological order: Star Wars (original trilogy made me a child nerd), X-Files (first real social fandom, and intro to fanfic!), Buffy/Angel/Firefly, LOTR, Doctor Who, Torchwood (the only other show I've been driven to write fic for), Sherlock to an extent. OFMD and WWDITS are great fun, though not obsessions.

My Writing: Writing Index Here I'm really enjoying writing right now! I don't know how long this ADHD hyperfocus will last, but I'll take it while it lasts. My goal in writing is to challenge myself, create things I'd want to read, and have fun with it (for a definition of fun).

I'm also definitely working on being comfortable expressing the things I like and want and being unashamed about that. I worry too much about how my 😈 side might reflect on my 😇 side, and honestly, these shades of grey lovelies are helping me with that a lot. It's probably why I love writing Dom Aziraphale so much, because he is just so sweet and good and bright, and also a toppy BAMF who can make demons (and their Bentleys) do whatever he wants and wields a flaming sword against Satan himself.

So yeah, every time I make Aziraphale go to a dark place, and then come back again to being a ball of delight, it's helping me create a map that allows me to do the same (to a, you know, somewhat lesser and more reasonable extent). And when others read and like the things that come from the darkest corners of my brain, it makes me feel seen.

Anyway, you made it this far. Here are my cats for tax. Yes, I have one of each of the Kinds of Cats.

#intro post #pinned intro

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wetcatspellcaster · 21 days

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very kindly tagged by @cursedhaglette, thank you for giving me a chance to talk about my writing :)

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

11! :)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

lmfao. 985,659. That's nearly ten thesises (theses?) in the time of my PhD programme, so I'm going to just go quickly walk into the sea.

3) What fandoms do you write for?

the majority of my fic is for videogames with love interests and OC potential (BG3, Dragon Age) but I did briefly fall prey to the darklina disease, which I have to admit to here in order to answer some of the other questions

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1- Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth (bg3)

2- Party Favours (bg3)

3- A Bleeding Heart (bg3)

4- The Stars Don't Shine, They Burn (shadow and bone)

5- An Honest Lie (bg3)

5) Do you respond to comments?

as best as I can, I typically clear out a previous chapter just before I post something new (so that's one way to monitor or predict my posting activity lmfao)

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Lmao. Sunblindness (shadow and bone) which takes an 'eye for an eye' approach to an amnesia AU. I actually wanted to end on a major character death but my pal's response was "jesus Emma, this is something people read for fun" so I watered it down :')))))

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Party Favours currently!! Happier endings incoming, IMO.

8) Do you get hate on fics?

yes, occasionally, I'm still in single digits thankfully. i always find it so funny bc nobody is more critical of my fic than me. you think you can hurt me? babygirl, we're in the 5th dimension of insults in my brain, your surface level comment barely touches the sides.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

nope! call me the Astarion!spawn ending, the way I fade-to-black :')))))

10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I crossovered Stardust and Shadow and Bone, but it was not a straight crossover it was more a chewed up, swallowed, and digested version of both premises. I similarly wrote a Wintersmith/Shadow and Bone crossover that I never posted bc the sickness left me.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

lol. lmfao, even. :)))))

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have had requests made of me and given permission for that to happen, but I do not know if it was ever posted!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, it's not for me unfortunately, I was that horrible kid in group projects who just wished she could work alone :')))))))))))

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

honestly there are many but the two that are indelibly written on my soul are Howl/Sophie and Spike/Buffy like the simple bitch I am.

In terms of things I've written? zevran/surana, hands down.

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Anything I post I will eventually finish, out of social anxiety alone. At the moment I'm worried about the stuff sitting unposted in gdocs.

16) What are your writing strengths?

hahahahahahaha i don't fucking know i think i can make character voices distinct so you can usually tell which POV I'm writing from once the perspectives are established?

I have been complimented on my dialogue.

I think I'm usually brave enough to take a risky decision, even if it doesn't pay off. These decisions also land more than they used to so it's a skill I've built with time and one I am proud of.

My jokes don't seem to just be for me anymore, I like it when other people say I made them laugh.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

If there's something that can be said straightforwardly in a sentence, you know I'll say it in three paragraphs instead. I wouldn't be surprised if people think I'm a purple-prosed motherfucker.

Smut and lack thereof

the repeat of 'conversation, stage direction, eye contact, expression, repeat' is not a weakness but it is something I become intermittently self conscious of.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I am a fan of it and I appreciate it when its done well (pour one out for Naomi Novik's fic/writing where the language work is cringingly poor), but not something I can personally do. Admirer in others, of the skills I lack.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

*dabs* Dragon Age, the OG. It was the pandemic, and I didn't want to replay Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts bc I hate timed sections, so I wrote a fic instead.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written?

I feel bad writing this on the blog that's currently 99% BG3, but The Stars Don't Shine They Burn. It was my first time plotting something that diverged greatly from source material, and I was going through some stuff at the time that I can feel viscerally when I return to it and read the words. It is a work of personalised comfort. There's one scene in it that still gets me, every single time.

I don't know, it's funny to see Pieces get attention and I'm very, very proud of Pieces, but some of what I'm thinking through in that was in its proto-form in the other fic, which is finished and I'm really proud of it... so let's see if anything comes along to bop it off the top spot once I have a critical distance and am not in the writing trenches lol.

Tagging wise, I actually want to do an open call on this one!! this was a really pleasant exercise, so anyone seeing this who wants to talk about their writing or celebrate their achievements can take this as my personal invitation :)

scared? do it anyway x

#tags #tag games #my writing #personal tag

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 1 year

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Incarnation

I made a plot decision some of you may not like, but I do not care lol because it gave me joy :)

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing

Krill had never not been afraid, but this time he wasn’t alone.

Dr. Katie sat across from him, long dark hair spilling down onto her scrubs, large brown eyes wide with shock made even wider by the lenses of her glasses. She may have been a doctor, but she could have easily fit the human movie trope of- unreasonably attractive librarian.

“You aren’t serious.” She said

Krill nodded , outside the room, and down the hall, he could hear the sound of running feet and tromping boots battering at the floor of the Empyrean. Waylayed on their trip, once again, the Empyrean had taken a detour at the Europe colonies within the Jovian system. Pockets of void resistance fighters had made the system a hell in space, and Adam had been unable to pass up the request for help levied on him by the governor of Io.

“I can’t just do that, not without permission….”

“Permission from who?”

Katie stammered, paused, bit her lip and then tried again, “From …. Adam.”

“Not his decision.”

She wrung her hands, “But krill, you, if you die-”

“If I die, you are more than capable of taking my place .”

He didn’t miss the incredulous and skeptical eyebrow raise that she leveled at him, it was an expression that could only truly have the full effect when used by a human.

There are 42 muscles in the human face, two eyes with visible white sclera and eyebrows upon the eyebrow ridges, which, while they help to keep sweat out of the eyes, also helped to harness the full effect of the human nonverbal communication . The entirety of the human face was designed for communication , and over the past few years Krill had come to read expressions with the same unconscious know-how of any human .

He reached on one small, frail hand and placed it over her strong, human one. Despite the skeptical eyebrow, he could see the fear in her face too, the tightening around the corners of her mouth, the hardness of her jaw, the set of her lips into a thin line against her pale skin.

“I am tired of feeling useless.”

Katie shook her head, “But Krill that’s stupid. You-”

“Yes yes, best surgeon in the galaxy. What would we do without you, how could we go on etc etc. Katie, there are plenty of great doctors in the world, but very few of them who can harness Anima power.” He continued to pat her hand, “I am tired of hiding in the background while my friends go off to die in glorious battle. I hate having to watch it and I will tolerate it no longer

She looked at him with a pained expression, “I don’t think I could live with myself…. If I killed you.”

“Than Don’t/”

***

Krill’s words had not been comforting. The little doctor that tried his best of course, and the fact that he was placing his life in her hands was, well it was certainly the greatest compliment he could have given, but even so.

No pressure.

She was being asked to fill the shoes of the greatest surgeon who had probably ever lived. Four arms and four separate cortical hemispheres, not to mention the ability to float which was sort of handy when it came to operating. Krill’s Vrul body was almost meant for the surgical suite.

But her….

Well she had only two clumsy human arms and only two cortical hemispheres of which neither could operate independently, and even if they were separated, like they occasionally were in extreme cases of epilepsy , only one hemisphere of her brain was capable of speech.

Not exactly stellar .

Compared to Krill's brilliant mind, her brain was like the slow kid eating paste in the corner while he did rapid physics computations on the chalkboard, there was simply no comparison, and still somehow, she was here standing as the orderlies helped her to dress in the sterile gown.

She held her hands before her face, newly gloved and ready. Someone held a surgical gown in front of her, and she stepped into it waiting patiently as they tied it down in back. All her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and tucked up under a hairnet. As far as surgeries went, it was both the least invasive and most invasive form of brain surgery possible.

The risk of infection was low, and the incision would be microscopic, however cutting someone’s soul out of their head is probably the definition of invasive if one were to look up the word in Webster’s dictionary .

“You ready?”

She turned her head Catching a set of inhuman eyes staring back at her from behind a hairnet and mask. Celex cocked one technicolor eyebrow at her. The face he had picked for himself was a good representation of his personality, looking every bit the emperor he used to be with a hawkish nose, sharp eyes and neatly trimmed beard. It was a look she happened to find annoyingly handsome, despite Celex’s choice to take on the form of a man in his late thirties rather than youthful twenties.

But she supposed anyone would look good if they could take on any form they chose.

“No.” She said bluntly.

Behind Celex Conn floated gently past ribbons tied back and braided into neat rows to keep from getting in the way. They should be out with Adam right now, helping to clean up the Jovian system, but krill had either bullied or cajoled both of them into being here, without Adam knowing about it . Then again it probably hadn’t taken much to cajole either of them.

Both Celex and Conn had similar personalities in that way.

Not giving a damn was a pretty big part of both of them.

Despite her earlier answer, when the surgical doors opened, she stepped inside with a purpose, opening to a room with a waiting surgical staff, and Krill’s tiny body lying in wait for her on the operating chair. He looked so frail from here, a tangle of stick thin limbs she could have snapped over her knee if she half wanted .

In a way this surgery would be harder than any Krill had had to perform, since it would be on a subject who died more easily than any human. Brain surgery wasn’t something they tended to perform on many other species other than humans. If she messed something up, it might not matter if Krill had anima power because in all likelihood he would spend the rest of his days in a vegetative state drooling everywhere.

She tried to shut off those thoughts, which certainly weren’t doing her any good.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward, two telepaths flanking her on either sde.

She didn’t have telepathic abilities herself, and had no desire to gain them in the future, but she would need their help to guide her to the source of Krill’s anima and all of the extra tethers she would need to sever.

Conn positioned himself around behind Krill, and Celex stood behind her resting one heavy, gloved hand on her shoulder, “Ready/” He asked again

This time she nodded, and she felt as Celex shifted bringing his hands to rest on the back of her neck and head. The sensation was like a chain of lightning bursting through her body, electrifying her limbs and brain. She struggled to orient herself for a moment, confused at the new sensation that lapped inside her mind.

It was a strange feeling to say the least, like if your arm had been numb for your entire life, and all of a sudden sensation came flooding back.

She could sense her brain now, her own mind like a physical space, and Celex with her, his thoughts lapping around through her head like warm, rolling eddies of water in a shallow sea.

Through him she could sense a tether to Conn, whose mind was alien and strange, but not difficult to understand.

And she knew where to go.

She couldn’t have said it was easy. It took all her concentration just to stay on task, to keep her hands moving at the microscopic levels required to perform the surgery. On many occasions her focus began to fade a bit, bolstered only by the slow pressure of the emperor’s mind pressing against her own . Even so she was glad to have him, because when the ache in her feet rose up, he tamped it back down, curtailing her awareness to this signal moment.

Cutting away what held Krill in place.

The further she went the harder it got, until the last few strands were left in place.

She cut one,

Then another.

Just one more left, just had to position correctly. Her hands faltered, second guessed. Celex did his best to steady her, and in a moment of clarity she cut, praying that it wouldn’t be too much.

The slice came, and in a moment she knew she had taken off more than intended. She watched the thread holding Krill in place, fray, like it was going to break, and listened to the sound of the machines going haywire.

She had killed him.

And then the room erupted into light, and she was thrown backwards slamming hard into Celex’s chest and sending them both to the floor some feet away. Somewhere in the fall he wrapped his arms around her chest, so when they did hit the floor, she was relatively cushioned.

She lay there stunned and in shock as her eyes burned and tried to recalibrate.

Her surgical lenses had fallen off and her vision was blurry when it finally came back into focus.

Krill’s body lay silent and listless on the table, unmoving.

All the lights had gone out, but still the room was lit like noon day, from a glowing ball of energy hovering at the center of the room. As she watched the ball of energy began to churn and contort, forcing itself slowly into shape as the light died away.

And as it did, her eyes went wide

***

Adam felt it when it came, a sudden psychic blast of energy that rocked through the entire empyrean just moments after stepping off the shuttle. He was tired, exhausted from a day’s work dealing with cultists, but that sudden rush of power had him up and alert in seconds.

He tossed his SE helmet to one of the shuttle officers, and turned towards the docking lieutenant, “What the hell was that.”

The look on the man’s face was pretty clear, he had no idea.

Beside him, Sunny straightened herself from the back of the shuttle faceplate on her armor sliding back, “did the Void breach us ”

“I don’t know.” He said, and together they started up the hall. He didn’t like the idea of the void breaking onto his ship while he was away. Together, he, Sunny, and a few other marines charged up the hallway after the origin of the explosion. It took them a few minutes to make their way through the massive ship racing down hallways and corridors in a mad dash.

They weren’t far away from the medical wing now. Adam skidded around the last corner, feet flailing on the floor, and only had just enough time to register the brief image of a man, tan russet skin, reddish hair, thin, not very tall, holding krill’s limp body under one arm, stark raving naked, and with a look of absolute rage on his face.

But that was all he got before the naked man drew back his fist and coldcoked him across the jaw so hard he went down seeing stars and little cartoon birds.

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dearlyfictitious2 · 1 year

Text

Modes of Surface Entertainment

"Perseus, I thought you said these games of yours were stress relieving?"

"They are." he grunted.

Triton raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at his (frankly) vicious finger smashing, "You're exuding the exact opposite of tranquilness."

"Trust me. I am calm, cool, collected, and having so much fun right now." he replied in a borderline unhinged tone, "Very relaxing."

"...Indeed."

Prince Triton had very little to base on whether that statement was true or not, but he was almost certain his brother was trying to convince himself.

He stared at the flat screen tv and tried to make sense of what exactly he was looking at, but try as he may, he couldn't grasp the novelty and settled for leaning on his brother instead.

He positively loathed being on land and made it a point to surface only when deemed absolutely necessary, he would much rather spend his time in their Lord Father's beautiful realm in the oceans, but his demigod brother practically dragged him up here when he was made aware that he, Prince Triton, had never played a video game during the entirety of his immortal existence.

And yes, the game room in Atlantis had plenty of dazzling arcade games to choose from, amongst other choices, but they didn't entice him in any way to play them at all. He could have gone the rest of his said immortal existence rather content having never known about the 'joys' of video games. Thank you very much.

But alas, here he was. Sat in their Father’s newly refurbished cabin and experiencing a mild case of dry eye of all things.

What a nuisance.

Triton summoned water between his fingers and swept them across his eyes, "How can you stand looking at these screens for so long without proper hydration?" He studied his brother closely and noticed something concerning, "Perseus, when was the last time you blinked?" the younger Prince’s expression had assumed a disturbing blank faced, wide-eyed, thousand yard stare.

"I've been working on this level for two and a half hours and I refuse to blink until I beat this one part."

Goodness, what a mess this godling of his was.

He sighed through his nose in resignation and put an arm around his brother's back, smiling fondly, "Your surface habits are very strange, but quite charming."

This amazing art piece was actually finished since Aug 2022 and my DUMBASS forgot to post it 🤡 This was originally going to be a standalone post, but since it took so damn long for me to remember I decided to write up a quick drabble to accompany it.

Permission to post the image was given to me by the incredibly talented artist on Twitter @/Lakes_DownSouth, who is an absolute GODDESS with putting up with my 2am nonsense. Please support her work here

She's also an animator! And well...let's just say I'm more than a little excited about the possibilities!

#percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #pjato #pjato/hoo #percy jackson fanart #bonding(continued story)#bonding drabble #triton #this is very late #holy hell

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hurtcomfortforeveryone · 17 days

Text

A little bit of shitposting:

Ladies and gentlemen, how did you get acquainted with the unwind cycle in general? Judging by what I've read here, in some places it's included in the school literature curriculum. But my story of getting to know this universe was more non-standard.

In short, there is such a site in Russia, a mixture of a social network and samples of the early Internet like bash org. And it's called Peekaboo. One day I was sitting there and came across a post-retelling of the teacher's memories of the dark cases of work at school: bullying in the children's collective, theft, even murder.

And here in the comments someone mentions that… However, sometimes it's better to quote than to retell.

Translation, almost literally (I did not translate the picture, because there the sentences were stupidly broken into meaningless pieces):

"I'm reminded of Neil Shusterman's book "Runaways", according to the laws of the realities of which children under the age of 18 could be handed over by parents for disassembly, i.e. a voluntary donation by a person for spare parts. And parents could do it for any reason. Damn, I come across such stories, I wonder if this dystopia would be unfair if such small inhumans were sent to the disassembly in most cases."

(Yeah, I also have no idea why it's called a "voluntary donation," okay) (And yes, in our fucked-up translation it is called "runaways") Well, what can I say, I was a little surprised. In the original post, of course, harsh criminality was described, and I don't want to justify it. But just for emotional reasons, I don't support the death penalty. Especially for people under the age of 18. Especially in such a fucking way.

In addition, the attitude towards children in general on Picaboo is something unique. Its users only need a staged humorous video with a capricious eight-year-old so that they express in the comments their desire to drown him, strangle him, leave him in the forest and so on. In more serious cases, it's even more interesting. For example, under a post about the permissibility of physical punishment in pedagogy, some parent mentioned that in the case when you still have to spank a child with a belt, he lets him choose this belt himself. This was followed by the expected answer, why once again undermine children's trust and cause injury to the child? The answer to this was that modern children who have a "trauma" from a slap with a belt could hardly heroically defend Stalingrad, as our grandfathers and great-grandfathers did. In general, this place has its own unique atmosphere.

But okay, we were talking about the book. The description intrigued me, because at that moment I was writing a fanfiction that raised other issues, but the emotional background was similar to what I expected in the book. So I started reading and here I am. And I still wonder how carefully that commentator read it. Because damn it! In the society described there, about a third of the population also thinks that unwinding helps rid the world of "such small inhumans", but in fact, for some reason, there are still a lot of side effects that cause innocent people to suffer. Maybe this should give the reader some ideas, but I'm not completely fucking sure.

So if someone had told me that the author had brought the idea to the point of absurdity (in a bad way) and was just satisfying teenage fantasies of "parents don't understand me and are unfair to me," then I would have shown him this comment. For it was not only Shusterman who brought the idea to the point of absurdity.

The only trouble is, no one tells me that. Because in Russia, about one and a half people have read unwind. So I'm not given a chance to answer someone so wittily :")

#unwind #unwind dystology

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mamadoe · 2 months

Text

🍁 The Forgotten Sister - Chapter 8

(I posted this on AO3 ages ago and forgot to post here, sorry 😬)

Partially edited, may come back and revise minor mistakes in the future.

~~~

Complete Masterlist

Also on AO3

Warning || only one bed, fluff, flirting

Word Count || 7885

~~~

The old marble floor of the barely lit throne room is a view I know all too well. My hands are that of a child’s against the cold floor. My little knees ache from holding this position for so long. Without tilting my head up, I try to glance toward the throne before me, but all I glimpse are the feet of Father’s hounds, their long, gangly legs stretched out as they lay at Father’s feet. My legs begin to scream in protest as I continue my punishment. What had I done this time to earn this treatment? I wrack my brain for it, but nothing comes. What’s the point of a punishment if I don’t know what I’m being punished for?

“Althea.” His voice is deep and gravelly, full of disdain. My skin heats from his unfiltered self being directed at me. “Look at me, child.” Eyes wide, I lift my gaze across the deep red rug that cascades down the steps leading to his throne. The hounds already sit upright in response to his voice, their brownish-grey wiry coats ragged and unkempt. Even the dogs look at him as my eyes meet his - dark as the night. They scare me. They have always scared me. He sits tall in his throne under a stark light, the only light in the room. I don’t dare speak until he gives me permission in fear of him making me kneel here longer. “Do you know what it is to be High Fae, child?” His question confuses me. Of course, I have been studying our history, but what does that have to do with this?

“High Fae are the rulers of Prythian, Father,” I meekly force out, and his unyielding glare upon me doesn’t give. My child-like voice is small and nearly gets swallowed up in the massive darkness of the throne room.

“Yes, but what else? What makes you High Fae, Althea?” I try to keep my eyes meeting his, but his question confuses me more, so I glance over his shoulder to Mother. She’s standing just behind his throne to the left, her hand resting on his shoulder and reflects white under the light’s intensity. However, the rest of her is nearly completely shrouded in darkness, and I can barely make out her features, but I can tell her expression is blank, cold even, and doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.

“Both you and Mother are High Fae, making me High Fae,” I find my words, my voice struggling to keep a stable tone as the nerves set in, and my skin begins to crawl with heat.

“Correct. High Fae do not mingle with the lower faeries. Do you understand?” His tone somehow falls deeper, harsher than before. To be honest, I don’t know what exactly he’s talking about, but I’m afraid if I tell him that, he will push my punishment further.

“Yes, Father,” I whisper, glancing down to the floor, but a loud thud of Father’s cane on the rug makes me flinch, and I glance back up to him.

“Do not ever speak with the servants again, Althea. If you so much as look at them, there will be punishment. Do you understand?” His words slice right through me. I had been talking to one of the maids in the kitchen earlier today while I was on my way to my tudor’s study. She had given me an apple and sent me on my way.

“Yes, Father,” is all I manage.

“You will not end up like him,” he commands firmly, and I can see Mother’s hand squeeze Father’s shoulder, but when I look to her, her face is now completely masked with black smoke that billows out and down her arms. Who does he mean by that?

“Y-Yes, Father. I apologize,” I weakly offer as I bow down so low that my forehead meets the cold floor.

“We will not have another one who defies me. You will abide by my rule.” I nod against the floor in understanding, but the growl of one of the hounds draws my attention. One of them is making its way down the steps toward me, head low, golden eyes glowing, a deep growl rumbling in its chest as it carries itself on its too-long legs.

“F-Father?” I whine from the floor, vulnerable for the taking like prey. The creature continues its approach, its growl morphing into something reminiscent of a garbled bark, its form shifting, expanding, deforming to be larger than life, as it now looms over my child-like form. My terror quakes me to my core as I tremble before it, its bark loud and overwhelming. The darkness of the throne room is closing in on us as it leans down over me, the shine of its bright white teeth cutting through the darkness, lips pulled back in a grotesque snarl as it prepares to sink its teeth into me.

“Wake up!” hisses through the darkness, and I am swiftly ripped from my nightmare. My breathing is heavy, and a light sweat coats my skin in the cool night air. The sky has grown almost completely dark and star flecked now that the sun has just past the horizon, and the chill of the night is setting in quickly. Irian is stooped over me, his face painted with fear and concern as he shakes me lightly. “Wake up. We gotta move quickly.” Before I can thank him for pulling me from the depths of my nightmare, I hear it - barking in the distance. I can’t pinpoint how far off they are, but for sure they are making ground and heading this way. The familiar high-pitched yaps of Father’s hounds break through the night, and I immediately feel my dinner churn in my stomach. Their barks must have carried into my dream. Irian doesn’t hesitate before pulling me up to my feet swiftly, and I almost ignore the groaning protest of my legs as I bear my weight on them, the soreness from riding having fully set in while I slept. A moment later he is securing the cloak around my neck under the cowl of the sweater and pulling the hood up, tucking my braid in to hide its identifiable red.

“How did they make it this far?” I whisper as he leads me through the dark with large strides over to Bits. Her saddle is already secured, saddle bags and all.

“They must have noticed Bits and I were gone quicker than I thought they would,” he returns as he takes me by the waist and hoists me up, my legs finding purchase on either side of her back. “I work in the Northern stable, so they must have put two-and-two together. The hounds can pick up just about any scent.” He clasps his hand around the horn of the saddle and heaves himself up, and after a brief moment of him adjusting in his seat, my arms find their hold around his waist. It’s only now that I realize he is clad in his own thick sweater in preparation for facing the cold. “All they’d need is some clothing of yours that hasn’t been washed, and they’re on the hunt,” he says under his breath as he adjusts his weight one more time as I swiftly kick my legs to unroll my pants to cover my feet. I’ll have to tie them closed later. The sound of the hounds grows closer by the second, but with a quick snap of the reins, Bits takes off into the tree line, heading north.

~~~

The night is long, only broken up by brief changes of Bits’ pace. As the fear of the chase settles in, we remain silent, as if our voices would give away our location or our pursuers don’t already have a homing beacon on our backs. All sense of time melts away as the dark night sky stretches past the horizon of the canopy of the trees, no moon to guide us. That doesn’t slow down Irian, however; his hands keep the reins moving with determination. I try to ignore the ache of my lower half as it strains to keep me secure against his ridged back, and the chill nips at my fingers as we travel higher into the mountains and the night’s air sinks into our bones. Already, the air is thinning, making my breaths short and hasty.

The fear of being caught drives him to make quick decisions - follow the path, break away here to gain just a little bit more ground, ducking down to avoid low-hanging branches. If captured, the punishment for this would be death, undoubtedly, and it isn’t in his plan to die, not today. Thankfully, his quick thinking and Bits’ stamina put adequate distance between us and them, the sound of the hounds slowly dissipating into the night. Even then, Irian doesn’t stop for anything, whispering under his breath that they can’t risk it, not again.

My hold on him is firm as I rest the side of my face against the back of his shoulder, listening carefully for anything behind us, but the only thing that my ears register are the rhythmic drumming of Bits’ hooves against the varying terrain in one ear and Irian’s steady, strong heartbeat in the other. If I weren’t trying to hold on for dear life, I could imagine myself slipping into a trance, but my heart lives in my throat as the adrenaline-fueled fear finally begins to ebb. Exhausted, I let my eyes drift close to give them a rest, tightening my arms around his waist noticeably. Irian takes notice and finally glances back at her for the first time since taking off.

“Ya okay back there?” One of his large hands finds its place on top of mine, his longer, callused fingers sliding between more delicate ones so he can give my hand a squeeze. Still bouncing from Bits’ gallop and Irian’s skilled riding, I’ve managed to match his riding rhythm, so it’s more comfortable at least.

“I suppose, considering,” I rest my chin on his shoulder, brows knit together as my eyes barely meet his. Hisonce-joyous smile hasn’t returned and instead a small frown is in its place.

“Don’t ya worry. Once we are over the mountain peaks, they won’t follow. We can find someplace to stop then, okay? Maybe get some warm food in ya, too,” he gives an assuring nod before redirecting his focus ahead, letting his hand linger clasped over mine for a moment longer before withdrawing it. Immediately I miss the touch as it’s my only comfort right now. My head remains on his shoulder as I try to look forward into the dark to see what he sees, but to me, we are darting through pitch darkness.

“How do you know where we are going?” His small laugh under his breath eases some of the tension I’m carrying between my shoulders.

“Well, it helps if you can see in the dark,” he flashes a quick smirk, “One of the perks of being part night fae. The darkness is an old friend.” I blink at that. When I had scoped out his features before, I hadn’t put two and two together. From his drooped ears to his fangs, he is characteristically a night fae.

“Like a cat then?” I tease in an attempt to keep the mood light. I can feel a laugh bubble up through his chest but he stops it from ringing clear in the night.

“Yes, very much like a cat,” he returns under his breath before slowly bringing Bits to a stop, surveying something in the dark I cannot see. Bits’ heavy breath is loud in the stillness of the night, the heaving of her rib cage prominent beneath us. I hope she can hold out until we can stop; the poor girl has already pushed so hard to get us this far. After a brief pause, Irian gives a soft huff of affirmation before casting me a less-than-assuring look. “Hold tight, princess. We’re about to be airborne.”

“What?” is all that slips from my lips before he snaps the reins and Bits immediately starts forward. My hold tightens on him, fingers gripping the material of his sweater.

“Hold on!” Just as suddenly as he commands, Bits is jumping. We are up off her back, though Irian’s feet stay firmly planted in the stirrups. I’m not so lucky, Irian being my only anchor as I lift from Bits’ back.

“Fuck!” On instinct my legs lift and close against his sides in an instant, seeking anything more to anchor myself. I can’t even see why we are jumping, but I know being this high up in the mountains, it can’t be good and would be a quick, painful death if I fall now. The jump passes in an instant but feels like an eternity as my stomach flips in knots before her hooves connect and she stumbles before they find purchase on the solid ground on the other side of whatever she jumped over, taking a few solid steps away before Irian reins her to a stop.

“Woah, good girl,” he pats her neck, a soft pant escaping his lips before he gives me an earnest glance. “You, too.” I would blush, if I had any blood left to pool in my face that isn’t already coursing through my veins, fueled by adrenaline. He laughs softly at what must be the most petrified expression on my face. My frame is trembling against his back, and it’s only when one of his hands finds the outside of my knee that’s pressed against his side that I return his glance, eyes wide and wild.

“What the fuck was that?” I whisper, unable to will myself to unfurl my grasp on him. A brief lit of a tease dances across his features, but he decides against acting on it when he realizes how terrified I am.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t even worry about it.” His thumb caresses the top of my knee for a brief moment in an attempt to calm my leg’s trembling. “Just a little detour, alright?” He turns more so I can see his face better. Even in the dark, I can make out the faint tinge of light reflection. It makes his once golden eyes have a shiny quality, tinged with silver. How he’s able to see in the dark. “Just a rock slide took out a part of the path. They won’t be able to follow us this way now, not with the dogs at least.” For the life of me, I can’t stop shaking, my adrenaline piqued.

“J-Just rocks in the path?” He can’t keep a small smirk from lifting the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, no, the path is gone,” he watches my face as I short circuit.

“What?” My voice is meek. We could have fallen there, could have died, and he has the nerve to look at me like it was nothing.

“A good chunk of the path collapsed, so they’ll need good horses to get over that. But hey, we made it!” He finally lets a laugh loose before giving the outside of my trembling thigh another pat. “Don’t think about it too hard. Just be thankful you can’t see how far the fall is.” I can’t stop the fearful gulp that feels trapped in my throat.

“Oh, don’t worry, that’s all on you.” I huff and hide my face against his shoulder, pulling another laugh from him before his hands return to the reins and he steers Bits away from what turns out to be a near-death experience. Thankfully he doesn’t pry me from his frame, instead keeping Bits’ pace moderate as we continue on the unseeable path.

“We’ll be in the Winter Court soon, and trust me, you’ll know it. I know of a small, little village not far from the border. It’s mostly a logging town, but it’s off the beaten path, and people keep to themselves. And now, without the dogs, we should be fine to stay the night, warm ourselves, get what we need, and then head out before the sun rises tomorrow, sound good?” His tone is bright as he tries to ease my tension, but I’m not letting go until I see the lights of a fire-warmed inn. All I respond with is a nod, and he chuckles once more before leading us through the dark.

~~~

Cold embraces us as soon as we cross the wards into the Winter Court, and the wind cuts right through what I initially thought were nice, warm knit clothing. The only reprieve is the wool cloak, which I secured around his shoulders and pulled the hood up over his head to keep him as warm as possible while nestling in as close as I could underneath. Our shivering bodies lean into each other, seeking any warmth we can kindle.

Even in the dark as I glance over his shoulder, I can see the faint glow of snow on the ground, and big, fluffy flakes swirl through the windy air. Any tracks we leave behind will quickly be smoothed over by new downfall and the wind, giving me some much needed relief from my growing anxiety of being followed despite Irian’s best attempt at affirming they wouldn’t follow us now that we crossed the wards. Even Bits seems to slow from the cold, much to my dismay. Irian’s large, trembling hand strokes my arms over his stomach in a feeble attempt to warm them.

“A-About there, stay with me,” he says through chattering teeth, earning a soft mumble as I bury my frozen face between his shoulder blades.

“Hope so. We can’t take this cold much longer,” my teeth chatter uncontrollably. I’ve never been so cold, as if my bones are frozen from the inside. I can’t even feel below the knee with how deeply the cold has settled. Thankfully, his promise rings true as the sound of Bits’ hooves against the ground changes - muffled heavy steps to solid thuds against snow-packed ground. I can’t help but peek over his shoulder once more. The soft light of a fae light lantern burns brightly in the distance. As we draw closer, the subtle frames of small houses melt out of the darkness, and I sigh with relief. “Finally.” Irian nods in approval, unable to will any other response as he steers Bits through what must be snow-covered roads as the small, dark houses appear closer together. As we pass under the fae light, it feels almost too bright after being in the dark for so long, my eyes squinting as I glance around. It doesn’t take long to pinpoint the small inn he was talking about before, and he wasn’t joking - it sits nestled in the corner of what must be the village’s town square, but at first glance it appears like any other of the small buildings, just two stories and bigger, and most of the windows are dark except for what must be the one in the front entry.

Teeth chattering, Irian stops Bits just shy of the walkway. After a brief moment of hyping himself up, he unclasps the cloak, and before I can protest, he slides off Bits’ back and pulls the front of the cloak closed around me.

“I-I’m going in to check if they have a room open. Stay put. I don’t want them to see you if t-they don’t have to, okay?” I nod once as he digs a small pouch that jingles of coin from one of the saddle bags.

“P-Please hurry,” I chatter under my breath, the plume of condensation thick in the freezing air. With a nod, he quickly trudges through the snow to the front door and disappears inside, leaving Bits and me in the cold and stillness that comes to a village like this at night. Trying to distract myself from the cold rising up my legs without Irian helping regulate my warmth, I glance around the bare town square. A few scattered fae lights still illuminate it to draw people stuck into the cold toward the inn. The fluffy snowflakes swirl in the glowing light as they drift toward the ground. If my body wasn’t about to give out on me, from the cold or exhaustion both, I could appreciate the view for its simple beauty.

So distracted from watching the snow, I don’t register Irian’s return until he’s stroking my leg gently, drawing my attention back to his much-more-relaxed face.

“C’mon, it’s warm in there,” he says softly as he takes a hold of my waist to help me down. Once again, I nearly collapse into the snow-covered ground, but he catches me under the arms.

“M-My legs, I can’t feel them at all,” my voice trembles weakly, and the thin air of the mountains isn’t helping me regain my strength. His breath comes in a strong huff as he pulls me up, hooking at arm around my waist.

“I know, dear, but it’s just a little farther,” he pulls me flush to his side, draping my arm around his shoulder for better support as he wrestles with the straps of the saddlebags with his free hand. “Just through that door and up the stairs, and a nice, warm bed is waiting, alright?” He grunts as he slides a couple of the bags under his free arm and turns us towards the door, my legs stumbling from the shift. Just the thought of the warmth waiting for us encourages my legs to cooperate just enough to take small steps through the snow. “That’s right, keep going,” he whispers into my ear as he concentrates on making sure we don’t end up collapsing into the snow. The praise would be embarrassing if I weren’t so distracted by the feeling of needles digging into the bottoms of my almost-bare feet.

“I-Irian,” my lip quivers from the sharp pain, “I-I can’t,” I whimper pathetically, eyes screwed shut as the pain shoots up my frozen legs. His brows knit together in concern at the change in me.

“Oh, darling, yes, you can. You’ve already come so far. Look,” his voice is soft, though still shaky from the cold, as he nudges the side of my face with the tip of his frozen nose, making me look up to see that we are only feet away from the door. “Just a few more steps.” I muster a nod and force my painful feet to trudge forward, swallowing down the pain. In moments, the door swings open from a swing kick of his foot, and we are bathed in the warmth within, making my chest tighten from relief. He quickly backs me up to a chair next to the door and sits me down, dropping the saddlebags on the floor beside me. After shutting the door behind us, he quickly kneels before me, pulling the cloak’s hood tightly around my face. “That’s a good girl,” he praises as he surveys my frost-etched face. “Wait here, alright? I gotta take the old girl to the stable out back. Warm up and then I’ll help you up the stairs, yeah?” His large hand caresses the top of my head after I give him a short nod and pull the cloak around my frozen frame tightly.

“J-Just hurry,” I whisper, meeting his concerned eyes with my watery ones. The sudden change in temperature has clouded my vision with tears. He nods sharply before standing, giving my shoulder a light pat before stepping away, waving to the woman behind the front desk before stepping back out into the cold.

A large fireplace warms the main hall of the inn, and I’m so thankful it’s not far as I slowly stretch out my frozen legs toward it. The bottoms of the pants I borrowed from Irian’s bag are soaked and dirty from trudging through the snow. I’ll have to take them off to dry overnight once in our room. The hall is decorated sparingly aside from a few mounted heads of beasts from the region, and the lower faerie woman behind the front desk eyes me curiously. She’s wrapped in a large robe to stave off the cold.

“That storm’s been going for quite some time now, Miss. You must be frozen solid,” she chides as she steps out from behind the desk, revealing a small, round pregnant belly accented by how the front of the robe opens to make room. “Let me get you something warm to drink.”

“Y-You don’t need to d-do that. I’ll be warm in no time,” I try to stop her, but she waves me off with a scoff as she steps through a nearby archway, only to return in mere moments with a steaming cup of something. I won’t deny it as she offers it, my frozen hands cupping the mug closely. “T-Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiles as her eyes wander over me. “You aren’t from around here, are you? You both aren’t dressed for the weather.” At first I don’t know what to say, so I bide some time by stealing a slow sip, recognizing the flavor as an aged tea mixed with honey. It melts me from within and immediately I relax back into the stiff wooden chair.

“No, we aren’t, but we are just passing through,” I say carefully. “It’s an unexpected trip.” She nods understandingly before turning to head back to her desk.

“Well, if you don’t want to wait for your husband, your room is at the top of the stairs.” A cough nearly makes me choke on the tea. What did she just say?

“Oh, um, that’s okay, I told him I’d wait for him here,” I try to keep a level head. I don’t know what he told her in order to get the room or to keep our cover, so playing along seems like the best bet at this point. She hums and gives a nod as she takes a seat behind the desk, giving me one more appraising look.

“Just bring the mug to me when you’re done, and I’ll take care of it.” Her hand goes to her swollen belly as she rests back in her chair. With a sigh, I thank her over the rim of the mug before taking another slow drink. Husband, huh? Aside from my family and the servants in the castle, I have rarely been around males, let alone one with such familiarity. So far, with Irian, it hasn’t been difficult. Being around him has felt much like being with an old friend. He has shown me nothing but kindness since leaving the castle, and it has made today’s whole ordeal easier, if only a little. However, through the lens of pretending he’s my husband, something feels… different. As my limbs warm, I finally become aware that my cheeks are flushed - from warming up or embarrassment, I’m unsure.

The back door swings open and Irian steps in, rubbing his arms for warmth, and another male follows, securing the door behind them.

“Thanks for your help. Couldn’t have done it without ya,” Irian says warmly to the male, earning a nod as he sheds his winter coat.

“Of course. That barn door sticks,” he approaches the woman behind the desk and leans in, stealing a quick kiss. “And you need to get back to bed.” She smiles up at him before taking his hand to stand.

“Get him a drink, would you?” She gives him another peck on the cheek before giving me a wave. “Change of plans! Just leave your mugs on the desk before you head up. I’ll take care of them in the morning.” With that, she slips through another door at the back of the hall. The other male nods to Irian before disappearing through the same archway the woman had before. Now alone, Irian’s gaze meets mine quickly, and he grins as he makes his way over, kneeling before me once again.

“Ah, look at you. Life’s back in your face,” his hands start with rubbing my shoulders but they end up on my knees, which are now poking out of the opening of the cloak. I give him a small smile.

“Thanks to the tea she gave me. It’s life giving,” I tease, offering him the mug to help warm his icy hands, which he takes happily. “So, husband?” It’s barely a whisper, drawing his eyes back to my face. A faint blush flushes across his face as he gauges whether I’m mad or not.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t have enough for two rooms, and it was so much easier to just say we are married to give us cover. I know it was pushing it, but-,” I cut off his hushed explanation by cupping the scarred side of his face in my hand, and he freezes under my touch, eyes widening ever so slightly. In the corner of my eye, I see the other male returning with a couple steaming mugs of tea.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I gesture with my eyes, and thankfully, he catches on, returning my mug to my free hand before turning to accept the mug offered.

“Ah, thank you. This is perfect,” he smiles warmly at the male, earning a nod as he too takes a long drink from his own mug. I let my hand linger on the side of his face briefly before letting it fall to his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat.

“Wasn’t expecting strangers this time of night, let alone in this storm. Where ya headed?” My heart jumps at his prodding, but Irian seems cool and collected.

“I have family in the Night Court. After the Mountain, I’m hoping I can find them there still,” Irian’s tone shifts to almost sadness, and the male makes an almost pained expression in return.

“Damn, that whole thing,” he sighs and his eyes slide to me. “You were there?” I don’t know what to say - I still don’t know much about the Mountain, only bits and pieces from what Galena has told me, when she had the heart to. When my voice gets lodged in my throat, Irian takes my hand and draws the male’s attention away from me.

“No, of course not, but she had family there. Unlucky bastards,” he sighs and sends a glance my way, begging me to play along. It isn’t technically a lie. I know Beron and Mother were there for nearly fifty years, though I barely noticed except for the fact that he never called for me personally.

“Mhmm, now that they’re okay, I feel better about heading that way,” though I try my best to keep my voice steady, the lie dances across my tongue and my voice doesn’t sound as confident as I had hoped.. Irian’s hand encasing mine gives me a squeeze.

“Come, dear, you’re still so cold,” he feigns a concerned pout. The other male nods in understanding and takes our mugs before bidding us goodnight and heading back into what must be the kitchen. Irian sighs through his nose as he watches him leave before quickly turning back to me, leaning in a little too close. “By the Mother, I’m sorry. I should have come up with a better idea. I hope he believed that.” His sudden anxiety earns a head tilt and I can’t help but smile slightly.

“I would have believed it,” I encourage before using his grip on my hand to pull myself to my feet, wincing softly.

“Still hurt?” his brows knit together as he stands, his hand gliding up my arm to hold me firmly under my elbow. His eyes quickly scan me as I steady myself. “I’ll check your feet once we’re in the room, alright?”

“Oh, stop,” I huff. “I’m just sore, really.” With another soft smile, I try to ease his anxiety, but it doesn’t seem to work. Sucking on his teeth for a moment as he glances at the bags and then the stairs.

“Think you can handle those?” My eyes follow his gaze, and I’d be lying if I said yes.

“It’ll be a slow climb, but I can manage,” with a wave of my hand, I gently bat his hand away and take my first few steps on semi-warmed feet. The needle-like feeling is still present, but manageable. Hopefully they’re not frostbitten. Maybe he should check over them after all. With a hand on the railing and the other holding my loose skirts, now untucked from the pants, and the cloak out of the way, the first few steps are slow. Irian quickly scoops up the bags and moves to stand just a few steps behind me, and I feel how his free hand still manages to find me just between my shoulderblades.

“Take your time. I won’t let you fall,” his voice is soft and assuring, and I nod. While it doesn’t take long, I definitely take my time. From the thinner air to my legs being absolutely exhausted, I’m thoroughly worn out, and even with Irian’s sweet affirmations, I refuse to let myself collapse for a third time today. By the time we make it to the top, my legs are trembling painfully, my breath being sucked between gritted teeth. Irian pauses, giving me a quick once over before pushing our door open, keeping a guiding hand on me always.

“C’mon, you’re so close,” he says softly as to not disturb anyone else who may be sleeping upstairs alongside us. With the last of my energy, I will my legs to walk and step into the dark, warm room. It’s small with a full size bed taking up most of the space, a small wood stove nestled in the corner next to a wash basin. After dropping the bags on the foot of the bed and guiding me to join them, gingerly helping me sit, he sets to work getting a fire going. My eyes flit after him as I let the bed cradle my sore lower half.

“I’ll never complain about a bed being uncomfortable ever again,” I sigh contently. His laugh is soft as he snaps twigs from a kindling basket and stacks them neatly in the fireplace.

“And I’ll never complain about the cold,” he shoots me a smile over his shoulder. “Go ahead and get changed. I’ll hang the cloak and pants near the fire to dry.” A blush flushes my cheeks as I recognize the implications of getting undressed, but I nod.

“Alright. Just keep those wandering eyes to yourself,” I tease in a stern tone as my fingers fiddle with the cloak’s fastening. He laughs and returns his focus back to the stove.

“Yes, ma’am,” he teases in return. With a steadying breath, I begin peeling the layers away, first the cloak, then the sweater, his wet and dirty pants. When I get to loosening the lacings on my stays, I can’t help but give him a shy glance, and sure enough, he’s mindfully ignoring me, trying to get a spark to take on the dried twigs. This is fine, I think. We have been fine all evening, so why does this feel… different. I sigh softly as the stays give way, and my breasts sag slightly, no longer supported by the semi-rigid frame of the stays. I never liked having to wear the traditional shapewear the women of the Autumn Court found so attractive. Then again, since I rarely wear them, they hurt me when I do. With quick hands I untie the sash on the skirt and stand to let it pool at my feet, now left in only my chemise and underwear. Again, I glance at Irian, and like he promised, his back is still firmly angled toward me, much to my relief. However, the nervous feeling that pools in my belly triggers me to pick at the skin of my finger. Feeling too naked, I pull the sweater back over my head, my red braid still tucked into the cowl collar.

“Okay, I’m done,” I whisper as I bend to pick up the pants and cloak, leaving my other clothing on the end of the bed. Irian glances back over his shoulder, offering his hand for the wet clothing.

“I’ll have the fire started in just a sec-,” he hesitates as his eyes trail over my bare calves. My heart leaps into my throat when they linger on my feet.

“W-What?”

“Shit, I knew I should have stopped to wrap your toes,” he groans as he turns to appraise my nearly blue skin. “Do they hurt still?” He glances up at me from the floor, and I shyly twiddle with the loose hem of one of the sweater sleeves.

“No, not really. I mean, they sting, but it’s not that bad now we’ve been inside for a bit,” I lean to look down at my feet with him. His large, warm hand ghosts over my still-chilled skin, making me shiver.

“Hm, okay. Sit here,” he directs with a pat on the edge of the bed closest to the stove, which I oblige. “We’ll get these warmed up in no time,” he gives a gentle, reassuring smile before turning back to the stove, doubling his efforts to get the fire going, which doesn’t take long. When a small fire springs to life in the hearth, he quickly fuels it with his breath and some smaller kindling. As it grows, he adds more fuel to the fire - a small stick, then a bigger stick, then a small log once the fire is steady on its own. By the time he closes the door on the stove, leaving the damper slightly open to let the heart out and the air in to keep the fire going, this side of the room is finally starting to warm. I twiddle my feet together to create some movement and friction to get the blood moving again, but when he kneels in front of me once more and takes one into his hands, lifting it up to check the bottoms of them, I can’t stop the blush that rises to my cheeks.

“What are you doing?” I ask softly, trying to resist the urge to pull away as his ginger traces along the tender skin.

“Can you feel that?” he glances up at me once more, his finger continuing to caress the same spot.

“Y-Yeah, a little bit.” I squint to attempt to see what he’s looking at. He hums softly before deepening his touch.

“This then?” Considering I nearly jump out of my skin to pull my foot back from his hold, he takes that as a yes and laughs softly. “Right, okay. I think you’ll be alright with some rest and proper shoes. I’ll make a trade in the morning.” He repeats his test on my other foot and sure enough, by his second press, my leg jerks back. His eyes trace from the discolored skin of my feet up my calves as his touch follows the path his eyes go, only stopping at my knees, which are now bare since my chemise shifted up from my attempts to pull away. Only when his eyes meet mine do I feel completely vulnerable, his hands steadfast on my knees. “How do your legs feel?” It takes a moment to catch my breath.

“Better,” I breathe softly, and he nods.

“Good.” He smiles as he stands upright. “Stay put by the fire, dear. My turn to change.” He steps around the end of the bed to the packs. By now, I’m sure my blush is noticeable, and I’m thankful he doesn’t tease me for it. Focusing my gaze on the subtle glow of the fire that bleeds from the open damper door, I lift my feet up onto the bed, tugging the chemise back down over my legs before hugging them to my chest. Try as I might, I can’t help but listen intently as he fumbles through his bag, and not long after, those sounds are replaced by ones of him unlacing his own clothing, unbuckling his belt, the subtle shifting as he pulls his sweater off just as I just did. In the small room, it’s hard to ignore. Did he listen to me the way I am listening to him? Biting my lip, I try to refocus on the crackle of the fire but fail when the bed dips from the other side as he sits and tugs his boots off and they land with two solid thuds on the wood floor. His content sigh is soft and short-lived before he stands once more, finishing his undressing before pulling on a fresh change of clothes. The blush continues to creep from my cheeks to the tips of my ears, try as I might to settle my nerves. Why does this feel so weird? I’ve been with people before, females mostly, but this isn’t even like that. It’s only when the bed shifts once more as he pulls the blanket back to lay down that my attention is brought back to him.

“I hope sharing a bed isn’t a bother,” he says apologetically as he sits.

“No, it’s fine,” I send a shy glance over my shoulder to find he let his hair out of his ponytail, his fingers working to comb out the knots that formed from it being windswept aggressively for hours.. I shift to face him, gesturing from him to let me help. After a moment of consideration, he nods and turns to offer his back to me, and I meet him halfway on the bed before starting to unpick the knots by hand. His fingers play with the tie that originally kept it secure as I work, that comfortable silence stretching between us. Working from the bottom and making my way up, it takes a few tries but soon my fingers are able to rake through his hair with relative ease, and he sighs contentedly.

“Thank you, princess,” he barely whispers as my fingers make one more pass, finally meeting his scalp, earning a soft soft as he leans into my touch.

“‘Princess,’ huh?” I dig into the tease as I begin to braid his hair loosely to keep it from tangling in his sleep. “Don’t think I didn’t catch that earlier, too.” His laugh is warm and quiet so as to keep from waking our neighbors.

“Oh, you remember that?” he glances over his shoulder. I nod and cast him a stern yet playful glance with a head tilt.

“I’m not a princess, Irian,” I say firmly as I offer my hand for his tie.

“Think of it as a more of a pet name,” he smirks as he hands the tie off over his shoulder, and I secure his hair, giving the braid a quick pet before pulling away.

“There. Shouldn’t be as much trouble tomorrow at least.” I pull back the covers on my side and slide my legs under, being met with the warmth that has built up while I was sitting on top of them. His hand on my arm gives me pause.

“Your turn,” he gestures to my messy braid hidden away in the collar of the sweater. Though I hesitate for a moment, I nod and shift to turn. His hand slips under the base of the braid to unfurl it from the collar, and I realize his hand could easily dwarf the back of my head. His touch is feather-light as he unties the end and begins combing out my soft curls with his long fingers. His soft hum fuels my blush, which I’m thankful I can hide facing away. “So soft.”

“One of the perks of having handmaidens - they take really good care of me,” I pause, the words stinging like a wound as soon as they are said. “They did, at least.” His hands linger for a moment, gently caressing my back as a comfort before returning to combing. “Do you think-,” I swallow back the sudden tears that burn at my water lines. “Do you think Galena is okay?” His response takes longer than I’d like.

“She stayed behind because she knew she could distract or redirect. She’s a strong one, and she is devoted to you,” his words are soft as his fingers begin to caress the back of my scalp before dividing my hair into sections to braid. “If anyone can get through that, it’d be her.” The sudden lump in my throat is hard to swallow as I take slow, shaky breaths to steady myself. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if she is already following in our tracks.” Without another word, I nod, and Irian slowly finishes the braid. “Now, it’s not a masterpiece, but at least it’s a little neater than it was,” he teases, giving my back a soft push. When I pull it over my shoulder to inspect his work, I can’t help but chuckle. It’s uneven, wonky, and small ends stick out along the length of it, but sure enough, it’s secure enough to sleep in.

“Thank you.” We meet eyes for a moment, and he gives an affirming smile before sliding under the covers.

“Get some rest, Althea. Tomorrow will be another long day.” I nod again before slinking in to join him, keeping a gap between us to respect each other’s space. It doesn’t take long for Irian to quickly doze off, his breathing leveling out. However, despite my exhaustion, sleep evades me. The fear, the worry, the anxiety of everything that is happening all at once swirls through my mind like a storm now that I have a moment of stillness, and for the life of me, I can’t sleep. As time ticks by, I find myself curled up on my side, blanket pulled all the way up to my chin, watching the fire flicker in the stove. The dance of its sparks and its warm cast on the room is comforting. If I were back at the castle, by now, I would be in bed with Galena by my side, snuggled up in a cocoon of warmth fast asleep after yet another long day of looking for letters. That existence feels like an eternity ago.

Irian’s soft groan grabs my attention, but it’s his arm snaking around my waist that makes me flinch.

“Aren’t you tired?” he mumbles half asleep still as he draws me closer to the middle of the bed, pressing himself against my back. My blush returns in full force as his nose brushes the ridge of my shoulder.

“S-Sorry, did I wake you?” A slight shake of his head for a no before he nestles in, his eyes closing as sleep takes over.

“You cold?”

“N-Not exactly. I just can’t sleep.” His arm secures me to his bubble of warmth.

“Close your eyes. Sleep will take you in no time.” And just like that his slumber-weighted breath returns. I’m not going to lie, the warmth radiating off him is nice, unlike my own body which barely seems to have heated under the blankets on its own. With a resigned sigh, I close my eyes, and I don’t remember sleep pulling me under. ~~~

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter to be continued

#acotar #the forgotten sister #acotar fluff #acotar oc #vanserra sister #sjm fandom #sjm trash #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #sarah j maas #fluff #we're heading north bbies

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cupcakes-and-pain · 1 year

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Friendships Don’t Always Last

Sometimes your friends will continue down the path of evil and anger despite you telling them that creepy mentor was wrong and they need to heal. Just another sad fact of life.

Anyway, this is just a prompt that anyone can use, but the charterers demanded genders when I was writing it. You don’t have to use their genders if you do write tho. Also, it’s not long, but I put it in a read more because I like them. I think I should be allowed to use multiple read mores. Make people continuously click buttons to get more of the post. That’d be nice.

CW: crying, betrayal, villain whumper i guess, fist fight, broken nose, implied abusive mentor figure / implied past abuse

———

Whumpee began to tear up as she raced toward her friend's side.

"Please, Whumper, there's got to be another way. Mentor was wrong, okay? He was just a selfish, stuck-up old man! You don't need revenge or power or any of that!"

Whumper looked out the window, refusing to face their friend.

"Whumper, you know this is wrong-"

"Do I?" He spun around, glaring at her. "Do I, Whumpee? Because every single interaction with you and your Mentor taught me that the only thing that mattered was hurting people to get your way. So why is it so wrong when I do it?"

"He was using me, Whumper! He was using both of us."

Whumper held eye contact with Whumpee for a moment, searching her expression. Eventually, his gaze dropped.

"So, that's it, huh? You won't help me get revenge. And what, should I just give up forever?"

Whumpee began to smile. "Well, I wouldn’t have worded it so harshly, but yes. Come on, let's go home-"

"No!! You may have given up and become weak, but I didn't. I don't need your support! I only need your skills. And luckily, I don't need your permission to get that."

Whumper shoves her to the ground. Between the two of them, Whumpee was always the better fighter. But Whumper was right. She had grown soft. She couldn't bring herself to hurt her friend, only to defend herself.

But Whumper held no such qualms. After a few minutes of struggling, he grabbed her hair and smashed her face against the floor, smiling at the crack of her nose. Twisting her arms behind her back, he hoisted her to her feet.

"Come on, Whumpee, don't be like that. I've got a nice cell for you. And tomorrow, we can go over the plan."

"You are an idiot if you think I'm helping you. I don't care what you do to me! When I said I left anger and vengeance behind, I fucking meant it."

"Oh, we'll have to see about that, old friend~. I recall you saying something similar to Mentor before we knew better. Before we got our first scars."

#whump #whump prompt #villain whumper #whumpee #betrayal whump #betrayal #crying #broken bones #broken nose #implied abusive mentor #implied past abuse #past abuse #tw betrayal #tw crying #tw broken bones #tw broken nose #tw past abuse

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blood-bound · 6 months

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1 on 1 mark session recap! As always, sorry not a lot of context is given.

Mark first finished reading a book 'on thorns and their consequences' which was basically explaining how the sabbat came to be and their PoV on things and then with an anarch commentary towards the end expressing their disagreements. but on the first last page was red runic lettering which mark could not recognize and which sucked up his vitae when he placed it on it.

He tried to do some internet research and came across an obscure forum which claims to be for learning about obscure languages but actually seems to have a lot of vampires on it posting real and fake runes, kinda like testing each other

The runes mark was looking at were on there but the mod, who basically posts in every server, says 'you wont find anything about that in this life.' the posteris like 'cmon doesn't someone have any family who could help' and the mod replies 'ask J' so that smenacing.

idk if J is Julius? it probably isnt but anyway. mark has already reported reading this book to julius and so is gonna ask him about it cause he couldn't figure it out.

the rest of the night he spends teaching G -G is doing well and did remember his vowels : ) also explained to Gs sister how he made sure the investigation would stop and ask if she needed any other help. she asked if he could get them free or at least out of their current essentially prison sooner and mark said no but they would be out in a month to a month and a half. she didn't know how long that was. so he explained how torpor and weeks and months and years worked

she still didnt say thanks or bye to mark but there was maybe something where she was close to doing so

i love G im so glad he is doing well he learned a lot he is almost through the alphabet

ok now for the meat of the session. the next night he goes to the chantry to talk to cassidy about the books. Knocks on the door. no answer.

He is getting a bad feeling. represented irl by the ST playing absolutely terrifying music as i search for him.

In the chantry apartments there is an often ignored ghoul at the front and so then he asked her where Lilian’s apartment was (Cassidy’s best friend.). She told him. He knocked on her door. No answer.

Checks the cafeteria. nope. library. nope. physics department (where their circle head, Dr. White, is). Nope. He asks someone there if she had seen either of them. nope.

so i'm worried as hell

im trying to think what mark could do and im like. i cant scry on him cause i dont have anything of Cassidy’s.

and the st gives me a Look as if 2 say u do ur forgetting

But he kinda gives it to me for free hes like, ur wearing the same coat you did when you went to the movies

Turns out mark has cassidy's ticket. so thats close enough to being his so. mark does scry on him

its not super juicy but it is super concerning. Cassidy is by lilian in what is probably the side door in his haven that mark hasn’t been in. barricading the door. with a fuckton of furniture. and also pushing against it. lilian looks terrified. cassidy looks So Done With This Shit (tm). something is banging on the door.

so with that mark goes back to the ghoul and is like. So. Uhm. Yeah i actually have permission to enter cassidys haven yes. please let me in

she looks scared - mark put her in a real bad spot. If he doesn’t actually have permission and she lets him in he could get in trouble. but he reassures her that itis fine and his decision and nothing bad will happen.

so she says ok and goes to open the door (she is able to if she is doing so of her own consent, she functions as a key ig). As she goes to open it, Mark says uhm. they are doing experiments so when you open the door. back up. and she's like "okay?' and opens the door and immediately vine tentacle thingies burst out and she falls back on her ass and scrambles back, screaming

she gets away and mark engages in combat. its the same sort of monster, just smaller, as the one on his territory in the conservatory, that navigate by sound. it has a lion's mane around a beak in the center and vine like tentacles around it.

mark takes a LOT of damage in its first attack he had like 1 unharmed box left but he manages to win :)

cassidy and lilian pop out from the door and are like. mark is that you?

Cassidy’s haven is wreckt sadly. Mark's like. yeah its me. its dead. you can come out.

lilian is SO sad it's dead but she isnt mad at mark. its clear she wanted to subdue it but they had no way to do so and mark comments as such

she's like "i was sooo close " :(

cassidy looks So Done and is like. thank you for your assistance mark but how did you . get in.

mark is like. thats not really important right now, is it? cassidy says 'somewhat, but we can discuss that later'

mark says that unfortunately this made quite a lot of noise and the ghoul went screaming for help so time to get your stories straight.

theres a few other things said but then zach rolls up

If you dont know who zach is he is a newly turned tremere. dr. white's child. elevated into power due to his sire. he's a classic skater boy. hes head of security. he figured ALL of marks shit out when he broke into a lab - he is GOOD at his job despite his casual attitude. he says 'chill' all the time.

he skates up (yes skateboard in the hall) and asks whats up. mark says 'hi zach. it's chill, i handled it.' (Mark kinda likes Zach).

And hes like. 'whats chill? can you explain?' and marks like. looks at cassidy and lilian. 'they would know better i just came at the end' and cassidy’s like. looks at lilian as if to say to her. u did this shit u explain!

so lilian starts a story which is kind of obviously partially a lie.

she says that she was doing her research, developing off of Leanah's (which was the stuff mark uhm. stole and sabotaged for her). and she noticed this evening that some things were off. papers where she wouldn't normally leave them. but the chimera project was So Important (TM) for the chantry that she just HAD to press on. Oh Also I found this Lipstick (produces lipstick) that looks JUST like what Leeanah wears isnt that interesting! (zach has her put it in an evidence back for him). She says 'Cassidy even made a joke that maybe I should wear makeup more often." Cassidy grunts but keeps a poker face. he would obviously Never Fucking Say That and lilian is messing with him.

god i love them sm. mark also knows cassidy would never fucking make that joke

(explaining a story that may dictate ur fate as u are investigated. does not miss an opportunity to fuck w the bestie* girl!

she continues to say that she got the embryo (described as tadpole) out of the cauldron she starts growing it. and it kept well. growing.

she pauses there. zach is like. okay and? it grows and?

Cassidy steps in. 'when it got bigger than our couch we realized we had a problem.' (also hehe ‘our’ couch their friendship is everything 2 me…)

lilians like yes. then thankfully cassidy, with some assistance from mark, killed it. and here we are :) and then zach turns to mark and is like. what do you mean how did you get here how did you know.

and marks like Oh Well You Know "I was coming here for unrelated reasons, cassidy and myself are working together you see. And I had permission to enter. And obviously I would assist him in combat. *Coughs.*

he coughs cause i rolled 1 success on the lie T_T

zach is like. you have permission?? and cassidys like uh yes. 'as needed he can enter. its easier that way' so yay that ghoul won't get in trouble LOLLL mark got retroactive permission

even if each can tell he lied like. how do u call him on that when the person who was to have given him that permission said he did.

Liliana finishes up by describing how awful it was to be sabotage. At the end of her story. she says "Im sure leeanah would be very sorry if she saw the destruction she caused and would say so' and cassidy said 'i would not accept her apology' annnddd thiswent over my head but the st explained that was lilian apologizing to cassidy and cassidy telling her to fuck offlkdsafjlkdsjf

and zachs like. aight seems chill! (Perhaps all was not chill). lemme go in your haven here to see evidence of that sabotage

and cassidys like oh, please do let me clean up first :) and zachs like :) noo you should see my room haha its fine :) and then cassidsy like. okay fine. you do not have permission to enter my haven. which is something respected in the chantry

zachs like do u really wanna go down that route.

Cassidy appears to hesitate. Mark is FREAKINGGG out he CANNOOTTTT find those books mark had him gather. thankfully cassidy says. Yes. Yes I do.

And so zach says fine thats chill. ill see you soon- and he has one of his guys (he had a small posse with him) stay. cassidys like. well that was a mess. mark says yes. which is why you should start cleaning it. do you want help.

The person Zach left behind enters cassidys room and was making sure the pc was ok. mark is like cassidy is that ok?? and cassidy says 'oh, hes chill.' It seems this was the little fucker that set up the pc and internet for cassidy in the first place! cassidy makes friends with fledglings :) he doesn't speak but cassidy calls him Hack. because that's what he does, ig

Anyway. Mark helps lilian gather monster body parts to the center of the room where she starts some sort of chanting incantation to get rid of it. cassidy goes into his Side Room to start cleaning. When mark is done gathering body parts he knocks and peeks into the side hallway. cassidy tells him to enter and mark starts helping him put books away

well first theres this hallway which has 2 doors. mark enters door two with cassidy.

its a beautiful study room with mostly books, but also some old clothes, including a duster (COWBOY CASSIDY REAL...) and a painting with someone in a cuirass but the face is oddly blurry

also, all the books do not have legible titles.

with sense the unseen it seems the chandelier in the room has some sort of enchantment blurring those things out

there is also a TALL ASS stack of those notebooks he writes in. Mark glances at it and looks at cassidy who pauses and says. i need to call in a favor. can you just keep packing books away for 10 mins ? and marks like Sure

and hes left alone in cassidys study. but he decides to NOT snoop and figures he wouldnt be able to read shit anwyay due to that enchantment so he does literally just put books away.

Cassidy returns and unfolds a piece of paper that he remembers Wendy using before - its like. a bag of holding.

he unfolds it and puts it under the stack of notebooks carefully . the note books fall in. then he carefully, very very very carefully, folds it up. mark comments 'got a few years in there, huh?" he replies "A good deal more than that.".

but yeah theres also furniture and stuff everywhere btw, its a mess. The pack up books. During this time mark asked like. ok we cant keep these books about resisting blood bonds in her haven. and Cassidy is like. really mark. you're gonna make me haul them from the library every time ur gonna read them, and mark is like. sorry. yeah : )

They finish and return to the mainroom. lilian is on the floor, hands splayed, miserable. done with everything. cassidy makes a point to step over her.

cassidy and mark hauled books up to lillian's haven which was much smaller. and complained about stairs. together <3 lol

When they return hack is no where to be found. cassidy looks around and comments that the should not be in the back rooms. he does open the door to the second room but he asks mark to step back so he cant see in : (anyway mark ends up finding zach with sense the unseen (he went Invisible ig) and he was rifling upstairs through lillian's things

cassidy is like 'hack ive been through enough tonight please just give it back' and hack goes to the computer and types:

";)

I have to give them something, y''no"

and cassidy is like. sigh. will this make our unlives harder in the future. and he writes

"maybe a little"

and marks says “you know what that's fair” <- has done the same shit of finding something Smaller so it proves he was Trying but actually not

cassidy comments that he is sad about his clothes getting thrown around and wrecked - 'over the decades he had collected quite a collection, some of which are hard if not impossible to replace' and mark comments 'i hope the tv is ok too'

and upon saying that cassidy actually reacts as opposed to being stone faced "Oh no you're right, the tv!" and he goes right for it

drops to his knees to prop it back up. and theres a crack through a fourth of it. he looks so sad. mark turns it on and it does still display but there is that crack

mark is like its ok we can get another and cassidy is like ' but this was my first tv :('. hes sentimental about it my fucking HEART

marks like. im sorry. i can help you pick out a new one maybe. cassidy says he'll likely take mark up on that. and mark also says maybe it could be fixed and cassidy says he will also try that

but yeah its cute that he got attached to the tv T_T (edited)

anyway zach skates right back in after the bit with hack that i described above. and says. ok in the name of the authority invested in me by blah blah blah... everyone but you, get out please! (hack being that one)

sooo the three leave. And mark is like.well. good luck with everything.

Cassidy and lilian do not look very happy but give ike a half hearted thanks

mark is lowkey like. ok u could be a bit more thankful i saved ur ass and helped u clean up but OKAy . . . .

cassidy also mentions that they can still work on their shared research in a few nights

oh also mark finally got the opportunity to ask if they had showers and they do not and mark is like. wow that sucks.

Cassidy diddnt seem to care but like. dude. imagine only having washrooms. L.

thats the session!

#mark vtm oc

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