octaves-of-estoiles

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Hallo how are you, I hope you're feeling good or if not I hope get better, but my request is one where it is a platonic or make it romantic, up to you either way, so basically, reader Jean and Barbara knew each other when they were all younger but reader had a very very shitty family life, but he stayed positive or tried to, but then his family moves somewhere and they meet again, this time reader found a place to mive into, and Jean and Barbara was used to a very cheerful, happy go lucky, loud person, but when they meet reader once again, he's the total opposite of what they remembered him as

𖤓|Sunlight Dim. [Rays just as warm]|𖤓

character(s): Jean, Barbara, and [Name](that's you!). Plus a small appearance of Keaya.

Pairing(s): Ambiguously Jean x Reader. Oh wait nvm its more prominent then I thought it would be.

Note(s): Uh. If you read the ask, you should know there is mentions of bad home life within this. Just be careful with yourselves!

You said I had a choice whether or not it would be romantic or platonic.

I say i have no control over that and Jean x Reader just inserted itself in here.

Uh. I didn't know what to name this. Enjoy

Jean squinted at the parchment in front of her, flicking her quill between her fingers with a frustrated sigh. She tried another stroke, but frowned at how fundamentally wrong the drawing seemed.

Illustration isn't her strong suit—it was his.

And the image she has in her head is the only thing she has left of him. How can she not try to recreate it?

Jean still remembers the first time [Name] ran up to her and pulled her aside, sitting them in an isolated corner so he could bring out his sketch book and show her a marvel of science. Even though it was only an idea on paper, Jean knew.

[Name] would make his idea work, and Jean remembers praying to Barbatos that same night to make sure she was the there for when he flew.

In her mind, it would happen at either sunset or sun rise. [Name] would hand over Barbara to Jean, only for a test drive—lest the little girl at the time would start to fuss over not being held by her favorite person. [Name] would activate the device, stepping on it catiously—well. In Jean's imagination, he had some cautiousness. Back then, he lacked it, and she doesn't doubt he still lacks it to this day—and gently float off the ground, only the slightest centimeter or two.

And then he'd grin at Jean, before taking to the skies. The sun would illuminate his frame, and Jean would be able to see his grin even from so far on the ground, because the sun would be reflecting off his skin.

Jean, wholeheartedly, believed [Name] was the sun.

So, it's important that she gets this…mock rendition of his work right. It's the only thing she has left of him.

Jean closes her eyes, thinks back to the memory of [Name] warm against her side as he excitedly talked about the blue prints in his sketch book, back to the imagined moment of flight that she never saw [Name] achieve, and began to draw again.

Barbara tries to keep a piece of [Name] in every smile she shares—because that's who she learned it from.

It may sound a bit selfish, but Barbara took [Name]'s smile for herself. Copied it, and then copied the smile Jean always had, so she could combine the two together.

So, better said is that: Barbara keeps a bit of [Name] and Jean in her smile. In hopes that the people of Mondstadt could have a glimpse of [Name].

She was young, but she remember how he and Jean gave her all their time. Obviously, that was before her parents split and her mother took Jean, severely cutting their time together shorter. On top of that, Jean began preparing to take the exam to become a knight.

Still. Jean found time for [Name], which meant she made time for Barbara. Because Barbara adored [Name], even when she was too young to understand why he flinched from his father when the man came to pick the boy up from their play dates.

She still adores him—and now she understands what the man meant to [Name]—and she still tries to remind everyone of him, because it seems like nobody remembers [Name].

Only the late night arguments his father and mother would slur after nights out drinking, making everyone wonder how they even managed to live in the same house. How they managed to even exist in the same vicinity as each other.

People only remember the harmful words his mother would spread each time the woman of the church would have a meeting. People only remember the man who couldn't find it in himself to be kind at least once.

No one remembers [Name]. How he was the brightest kid in Mondstadt—both with his smile, and with his brain—or how he'd always go home at ungodly hours in the night, and if any one noticed, not a word was said.

Barbara hates how she was only a little girl back then, how she couldn't advocate for him. Because it's because of his parents, that Jean started to smile less. Their mother—Jean's mother didn't want her future knight of a daughter to be around the son of the combined bane of Mondstadt.

Barbara thinks that was the only time she's seen Jean actively sneak into someone's house—Barbara's father's house, to practically steal a giggling Barbara from her crib in the middle of the night so they could both visit [Name].

The night Jean did that—was the night [Name] announced his father was planning on moving the family. To Fontaine of places.

Looking back, Barbara remembers Jean's face and now, she can tell what her sister was thinking.

Right where he parents would fit in. Barbara holds nothing against the people of Fontaine, but can you blame her after she's heard story after story of the people there being two faced?

Oh, but that mentality makes her seem like the people of Mondstadt back then, where the distanced from [Name] just because of who his parents were.

Believing those stories wholeheartedly would feel like betraying [Name].

And Barbara would hate for her smile to morph from everything she's made it.

The parchment from last night was still in her office when the sun rose—because Jean was still in her office when the sun rose. However, before the headquarters opened its doors to early rising knights, Jean had hid it in the first drawer she could reach.

It could wait until after Knightly hours.

Jean just didn't expect for those knightly hours to include Barbara, but she was pleasantly surprised when her sister slipped through her office doors and greeted her with a small wave.

"Good morning, Big sis," It was still early, and Barbara couldn't help the instinct that came with being a healer—to keep her voice down in the early morning. "…Did you stay overnight, again?"

Jean smiled, embarrassed, as her little sister came forward, handing her a warm flask.

"I'm sorry, Barbara. I know you're not the only one it bothers."

The deaconess shook her head. "Not bother. Worry. We worry for you, Jean. You need rest."

"…It’s not like I can just leave," Jean sighs. She leans back in her chair, giving herself the leniency in front of her sister. "The day has only just began."

"But I think it should end for you," Barbara gave her a stubborn look, essentially putting her foot down the best she can when Jean was a) her big sister, and b) the acting grand master.

Respectfully, with a smidgen of annoyed worry.

"An excellent idea, Mrs. Barbara."

Jean naturally slips back into a rigid posture of Keaya enters her office, an unusual air around him, strong enough for even Barbara to look between her sister and him nervously.

Keaya places a hand on the Deaconess' shoulder, smiling casually.

"I'll make sure to remind her of it, but at the moment, the acting grand master and I need to chat. I heard Bennett was on hi way back from adventuring. You might want to be at the church when he arrives."

Barbara opens her mouth to argue, but glances at her sister in the last second. Jean sends her an encouraging—and slightly tired—smile and gently shoos her away. The deaconess nods and takes her leave, bidding them both goodbye before leaving the office.

Keaya waves her off with a smile that drops when she leaves. His body sags and he plops right down on Jean's desk, pointedly ignoring the glare Jean gives him for almost sitting on her papers.

"Did you stay over night as well?" Jean asked, stacking her papers and tapping them against the office to have them be level before she puts them down.

"I was out all night," He corrects. He mindlessly smooths the fur of his jacket to be out of his face, and readjusts the buckles to his boots. "The tavern has useful information, but archons, the adventures last night didn't know their own strengths. Pats on the back, my ass…"

"Thank you for your sacrifices, Keaya," Jean laughs softly. "Did you find anything interesting out of drunken slurs or was it just a night of drinking with adventurers?"

"No, no, I found something. I'm just not sure if it's entirely plausible." He sighs and pushes off the office to face Jean instead. "Drunken rambles hold some truth, but this…"

"'This' being…?"

Keaya sighs and looks Jean in the eye.

"One of the men said he spoke to [Name] a few days before, over at Springvale. Said that [Name] was planning on moving back to Mondstadt."

Barbara's throats closes and her mouth dries. She might be struggling to breathe, or the ragged sounds of her breathing is echoing off the church walls.

[Name] is standing in front of her.

[Name]. Older. Around him, the church seems dimmer, like the pyro vision on his belt is sucking out the color from its wielder and whatever is around him and taking it for itself.

[Name]. Sadder.

[Name], with a slight limp to him as he walks towards, steps echoing through the empty cathedral. he stops in front of her, forcing her to look up to meet his eyes. They're blank—lacking the warmth she remembers them having. She can't form the smile she inherited from him, and judging from the lack of smile wrinkles around his mouth, he hasn't formed one in longer than forever.

"…[Name]?" She whispers.

[Name] looks down in—in—in shame.

Barbara feels the tears well in her eyes, but she keeps them from falling and instead, offers her hand.

[Name]'s eyes widen minutely and the light from his vision flares, gently reflecting off the shiny floor of the church. His arm moves slowly—hesitantly, scared almost—until his hand encapsulates hers.

He relaxes slightly, but not enough for Barbara.

"…I'm sorry for showing up like this," [Name] speaks low—not a rumble. Just that his voice exists below every other noise that Barbara's ears can pick up. "I just…I heard you were Deaconess. And while it made sense in my head, I wanted to see it for myself."

"…Are you proud of me?" She can't help but ask.

"…Of course I am." He tries to take his hand back, but Barbara's grip remains firm on it. He relents, holding her hand gently. "You've grown so much…"

"…and there's something different about you." She whispers back.

"…there is." That shameful looks comes back into his eyes, forcing his gaze downward. His hand clenches, careful not to harm Barbara's hand by squeezing tightly. "I'm…not the same you remember."

Barbara's hold on her tears finally break, and she throws herself at [Name], nearly leaping to fully wrap her arms around his neck. He's thrown off balance just for a second, before he steadies himself and freezes.

"…hug me back."

He nods shakily, and it takes a moment for his arms to move, like he's forgotten how to give someone a hug. Eventually, his arms wrap around Barbara entirely, loosely, but there. His chin rests on the top of her head as she tightens her hold, tightening his in return.

"…I'm glad you're back," She whispers, before hiding her face the fabric of the thick jacket he wears.

The flare of his vision dims, and color seeps from her own, restoring the proper white of the cathedral and some color to [Name]'s skin. She'll have to look him over—he's too pale, almost sickly—and find out just why he's limping, but for now—

She'll enjoy how he relaxes and relearns to be around her, holding her just as tight as she holds him.

The tavern collectively turns to the stairs as Jean trots up them as soon as she enters Angel's Share, before turning to each other and either returning to their original conversations, or thinking up possibilities of why the acting grand master would be at Angel's share.

It's not uncommon, but it's not common.

Jean tries her best to ignore the stares, much calmer now that she's upstairs while the majority of the people are down below. But that's not the only reason she went up the stares.

She meant to visit [Name] within the first few days he had moved back to Mondstadt, she really did.

It was just hard to get out of her office, or ask around to find out where [Name] frequents or where they might live, or even find the courage to face him herself.

She heard from Barbara what [Name] was like now—the desturated-ness that followed him around, only broken by the flare of his vision, the stoic yet sad expression—she's heard it all by now. Not just from Barbara, but from the people of Mondstadt themselves. People have been talking about the 'new' person who had moved here, and how his apartment was never properly lit, the only light being from his vision.

If there's any other reason to Jean meeting [Name] here today other than seeing her friend again, it would be to turn some lights. His vision was bad to begin with, the lack of lights—and she knows he doesn't sleep enough to use the 'being asleep' excuse as explanation.

But, the main reason is that she missed her friend.

But it's still hard to open the door to the balcony while knowing he's out there waiting for her. Regardless, she pushes the door open, peeking her head through to look for her friend.

"O-oh! Get away from the ledge!"

[Name] whips his head around from his spot perched on the railing. Carefully balanced where he sits, making sure he doesn't lean over and fall which Jean fears the most. Which is why she rushes to pull him away.

All the while he has this adorably wide-eyed expression that Jean can categorize as confusion.

"…why are you confused?!"

"Why are you panicking?" He shoots back.

"Because you could've fallen?!?"

"I have impeccable balance, that has not changed." [Name] puts a hand to his chest, offended expression on his face.

"You also have this uncanny ability of something going wrong at every twist and turn, so excuse for assuming the worst." She puts her hands on her hips, giving him a stern look that he actually flinches from.

"T-That wore off!"

"Did it?"

"…No, it didn't."

Jean sighs, then pauses.

Then she breaks into soft laughter. [Name] watches her lean against the railing as she laughs, his own lips twitching in response.

"Sorry, Sorry…" Jean stamps her laughter down, the only remaining evidence the soft smirk on her face. "It's just…nothing has really changed."

"…Really?"

"Well, yes, obviously things have changed. You've changed, I've changed, but…" Jean smiles softly, feeling the wind encourage her slightly against her back. "…we've not changed."

"…it's still so easy to talk to you. Like I can pick up where we left off, what? Almost a decade ago—?"

"Eight years." [Name] interjects. He leans against the railing next to Jean, slightly leaning towards her. Most likely to give her a better chance of hearing his soft voice. "It's been eight years or so."

"…where we left off eight whole years ago," Jean finishes softly. She looks away from [Name], up towards the starry sky. "It's been so long."

"Mhm."

"…I didn't know whether or not you were going to come back." Jean admits softly.

"…You're the one with the anemo vision. does the wind ever double back?"

Jean smiles at him, gently butting her shoulder into his, preparing for when he inevitably does it back. He does, albeit a bit softer than she did.

Small steps.

"…A pyro vision?" She pokes his shoulder, having him look at her when he speaks. "It suits you."

"…you think so?"

Jean nods. "I do.

[Name] looks down at the streets, playing with the rings on his fingers, making sure not to accidentally drop them onto the people below. "I told you I changed. The pyro vision…it's not for passionate reasons like for the outrider girl."

"Visions are fickle. I wouldn't judge you from how you got it. And it doesn't matter to me if you changed. We can just…re-learn each other." Jean suggests with a smile. "It should be easier with our past experience. Our years together shouldn't be put to waste, you know."

[Name] nods in agreement, letting the smallest smile seep through the stoic expression and relaxing against the railing.

It's a quieter night in the city of Freedom, where the winds are the loudest thing in Mondstadt. Nights like these are rare, due to the nature of the people of the city of freedom. They usually involve quiet trouble for the knights, or leave them all on edge in preparation of trouble, even though trouble never came.

As the sun begins to set, a question pops into Jean's head. She turns to [Name], poking his shoulder to grab his attention.

"Did you ever finish that invention of yours?" She asked. Jean tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear to stop the wind from blowing it into her face. "I…sketch it sometimes. It reminds me of you."

[Name]'s eyes flick between lights down below, obviously thinking before nodding. "I did."

Jean perks up and she turns to face the other completely. "That's great! Does it—?"

"Work?" [Name] spoke for her.

"Yes! Does it fly?"

"…mhm. I got it to fly."

Jean smiles and kicks his shin lightly. "Fontaine really did help that brain of yours, didn't it? That's the only place where a flying board is plausible to people's ears."

[Name]'s lips twitch upwards once, then he shakes his head. "The technology over there helped a little, but my vision is what pushed it to work."

Jean tilts her head. "Oh? What do you mean?"

"My vision powers it." He says simply. His eyes flick over to her expression and he chuckles. "Come, it makes more sense if I show you instead."

"I hadn't realized…it'd be so heavy."

"Well, it wasn't going to be light. It's machinery, Jean. Machinery is never light."

Having left the tavern, than quickly stopped by [Name]'s house to retrieve the device, then leave the city to find a private plain to take off from, Jean watched as the sun continued to set, illuminating the silhouette of her friend plopping the board on the floor. Then, he unclips his vision from his jacket, slotting it into the indent sized for it in the board's metal work.

The previously dark paths carved into the metal of the board light up with a feiry glow from the vision's power, and a whirring sound fills the air.

[Name] steps on, securing his feet, before outstretching a hand to Jean.

She sputters—archons, she hasn't done that in years—and steps back. "Me?"

He looks around lazily before looking back to her. "Who else?"

Jean stares at him, then down at the board, then back up at his face.

He raised an eyebrow. "If you're worried I'll let you fall, I'm offended."

"Not that. Just…the only 'flight' I've done is gliding."

"You'll barely be doing anything except holding on. I'll take care of the rest. C'mere, Jean."

She looks around—for what, she doesn't know—then looks back. She sighs, deeply, and takes [Name]'s hand. He leads her onto the board, positioning her behind and adjusting her stance with her foot before turning to face the correct way once more

"Go ahead and hold onto me from behind." From here, Jean can hear how his voice rumbles softly much better. 'From here' being almost no distance at all. Still, she nods and snakes her arms around his midsection, holding only slightly tighter than nessecary. "Good. Ready?"

Jean takes a deep breath, then nods.

[Name] turns his head to face back towards the front, then shifts his leg to press something with his foot. From behind, an engine whirrs to life—so that's where the whirring was coming from! Anyway—and fire shoots out from the cavity.

The board floats gingerly, only a few feet above the ground. Jean assumes [Name] is giving her a grace period, letting her get used to the feeling of letting the ground go. Just to be sure, she nods once more, and almost immediately, he bucks his legs downward, using the momentum to send the board up.

Jean closes her eyes and prays.

While her eyes are closed, she feels the wind starting to whip harshly against her face—speed. They're picking up the speed. She hears [Name]'s foot hit another button—or latch. She can't tell—and hears something extend.

Finally, instead of being tilted upwards, they level out completely and the wind calms. The air feels thinner to breathe and Jean takes a moment to adjust her breathing before opening her eyes.

She gasps.

They're above it all. Above the clouds. From here, the sun hasn't fully set. It's nearly there at the horizon, but it still lights up the sky and colors the tops of the clouds they fly over. More importantly—

Instead of his silhouette being lit, [Name]'s face is being framed by the sun's light. His eyes hold gold flecks in them from the reflection of the light, and his hair whips around wildly enough for his nose to scrunch and his eyes to squint.

Jean's smile grows slowly and [Name] doesn't question how she watches him more than she watches the sunset. He only lets go of the raised wind sail—that was the product of the button he pressed, no doubt—gently peeling away Jean's grip to then sit on the edge of the board.

He looks up, offering Jean a hand to sit.

And of course, she takes it.

She sits beside him, eyes turned to the sunset, but quickly flicking back to [Name]. Her legs kick instinctively to find solid ground, but only pass through the clouds. She tears her eyes away from the other long enough to carefully extend a hand and touch a cloud, pulling back quickly.

"Cold!" She laughs, shaking the water from her glove. Then, she turns back to [Name].

He's watching. He always watches—has always been watching. Even when they were young—and smirks at her reaction.

"Now you can safely say that clouds are not as fluffy as they apear."

Jean chuckles, watching as [Name] turns back to the sunset. With his face fully turned to the light, Jean can better see how well the yellow melts into his skin. Takes away the pale factor [Name] held when he came back to Mondstadt. She's glad to see that in the week back, he's regained some color.

Hesitantly, she shifts closer. She makes sure not to face him—instead properly watching the sun set in the horizon as the board floats who knows how much over the ground—as she lays her head on his shoulder.

He tenses for a long moment, long enough for Jean to consider pulling away, before he relaxes and tentaively wraps an arm around her, his hand coming to rest on her opposite shoulder.

She smiles, using the cold air as an excuse to get closer and relaxes as well.

Jean had considered giving [Name] a new title. She had thought the previous 'sun' she thought him as was too bright for the new version of himself he brought along. She had considered changing it to 'red dwarf'.

Now, she knows better.

'The Sun' was, is, and shall always be the only appropriate title for [Name].

Credit to @uzmacchiato for each of the wonderful dividers used in this post!!!

Be honest, how did i do on the sprinkles of romance??? Did I do it right???

Also yeah it IS a solar surfer from treasure planet. I couldn't resist the idea<3

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Cont. From this post here

To make matters worse—or better, depending on how you look at it.

My Yuu has quiet, touch-averse days. Y'know what I'm talking about? Not sad, just quiet. Combined with avoiding touch because today is just...not that day.

Yeah, my Yuu has those.

And the boys' reactions to those is a spectrum

one side of said spectrum is "Oh, they're just having an off-day. I understand that."

Meanwhile the other side is: "Oh my sevens, they hate me now. I knew it wasn't permenant, I shouldn't have gotten comfortable."

Who's on which side of the spectrum and/or in between? Idk, that's for Y'ALL to decide

(I wanna see what you'll come up with 🤭)

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Chat I need you to tell me if I'm—

A) Delusional (<- I think I'm this ngl)

Or

B) onto something (or the interchangeable; 'on something')

—With these lines

"What if...what if I hurt him because I mistake fondness or endearment for love?"

"Isn't the willingness you feel to take that risk proof enough of what you feel?"

"But...I could hurt him."

"It'd hurt just as much if you never tried. Even more if he learned you were too afraid to."

I need to spend less time in the shower

Cut content(that I found funny and wanted to share.

"But...I could lose everything..."

😐"I need you to understand that you even being in my realm is a little too close to death than anyone is comfortable. Get the fuck out, we both know your choice."

be honest. K bye

[octaves-of-estoiles]

I thought of something very silly, so it's a self-aware wuwa au where let's say where it's when rover first meets Lupa, and I'll tell you my reaction when I first saw her, I was like "Woah she's so pretty and so damn awesome, ooh fluffy tail-" sees her ass and then "DAMN, I want her to sit on my face, anyways she's awesome and hot as fuck, I will be trying to pull for her." Also, she's just such an awesome and cool character, also quite cute when she got drunk, lmao

Haven't met Lupa, went to check the cutscene we're introduced to her, immediately love d her and her attitude. That doesn't mean I am out of risk of ooc'ing her 😔

uh. Enjoy.

Lupa: First Encounter [Both for you and definitely for her]

➺Character(s): Lupa(this request is about her, yet she's barely in it. Don't worry, she haunts the narrative), Rover + [And of course, You!]

Once your influence left his body—the cold creeped in quickly, but he didn't have the time to pay attention to it. This moments are usually fleeting and you return rather quickly, but at the moment, something blocks your presence and demands his.

And once he feels it, he understands.

Rover's eyes widen minutely at the—gladiators, no doubt, judging from the armor—gladiators running past him, and Rover takes the risk of putting his back to them to block the oncoming attack from behind.

A flag—that blocks his view—long enough for a caloused hand to grasp his wrist and keeps him still as the woman—skiled with her pole arm and agile, and strong, judging only from her grip—sniffs him. Rover is sniffed.

"Um. Hello to you too?" Your voice rings out, a muffled echo loud enough for him to hear. And from her reaction—a slight widening of her eyes and the dilation of her pupils, accompanied by the sharpening of her grin are all signs she can also hear you—and Rover is inclined to agree with the disturbed curiosity your voice holds. "…I should be a bit more mad about sniffed, huh?"

Rover recovers from…being sniffed, and creates space between them, jumping away from the wolf woman.

"Not bad!" The woman exclaims, twilring herself and her pole arm, before showing Rover her back to face the gladiators.

"Oh no."

The battle between the woman and the gladiators happens quickly, with the woman standing over what Rover thinks to be the leader, her pole arm piercing the ground next to the man's head in threat.

"Oh no."

Rover's tempted in turning towards the part of the sky that ripples—where he's traced the string of spider web thin line of droplets to the sky multiple times—if only to give you a look. 'Oh no'? Has something gone wrong on your end? But, even if he is in the control at the moment, he'd feel even a sliver of panic and the string growing taught.

"Oh no," The sigh you take is audible, even while muffled. You sound defeated as you murmur: "Rover, I'm sorry, but we're farming for the pretty lady whom I want to sit on me."

Ah.

Poor—Lupa? Rover is sure the man called her Lupa—Lupa, who Rover is sure heard that comment. The woman's tail is pin straight, trying to keep up appearances by swaying slightly, but the fur. It's standing up, and she stumbles over her words slightly. She's good at hiding her surprise, Lupa recovers quickly and continues threatening the gladiators.

Like this hasn't happened before. In fact, Rover has come to expect it—and it might seem childish, but any one you 'farm' for (which Rover deduced means gathering the resources to make stronger. He's usally with you when you 'farm') is trust worthy enough. And she seems genuine enough.

And you like her. The people you like, Rover likes—or tolerates. With some exceptions. Even he can't bring himself to like someone like Scar—Lupa is, from what he's heard from the conversation happening in front of him, a person with dignity and morals that align with Rover's.

…Rover won't forgive that comment, however. What is this, the sixth person?

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Rover believes in burying the hatchet, but knowing exactly where that hatchet is. More often than not, the 'hatchet' is all of the comments you've made in your time together. He pleads that you get it together when the time comes for it. And you haven't failed him yet.

˚ˋঌ˖Lupa has only heard of this—this entity that lead many from around Huanglong to victory, even leading the battle that happened in Jinzhou. This 'entity' sounded like a might competitor, should they ever step in the ring! Lupa can feel her blood rushing just from the though of having the chance of getting to fight them on a fair and friendly battle field! Wait, no, the blood rushing is her flushing face. From that comment.

Credit to @cafekisune for the wonderful animated dividers!

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Who's your main three in zzz?

Like I said, I JUST started😭 so I only have the first three that you get. Billy, Nicole...and whatever the last girl's name is(I'm sorry, I love her, but the game is so fast-paced that I forget to remember some things.)

but yeah. I do know that'll probably change once I start pulling and stuff(I mainly pull off design and play style)

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Question do you write for hsr or nah?

It'll definitely come out much slower than other requests(I don’t play hsr, so I'd have to do research) but I'm willing!

[octaves-of-estoiles]

the nrc student body vs. my yuu who grew up with hugs and cheek pressings(as well as cheek pecks) as the customary greetings and farewells(and has grown to PREFER it) and is that type of person/friend to easily say "love ya" and does so once they're close enough to the boys.

guys who do you think will win

[octaves-of-estoiles]

I know that people love to point out that Yuu is not a therapist whatsoever and the cast treating them as such is a sort of being ooc. And, yeah, they're right.

But I love depicting Yuu as the friend as the person who constantly reminds the people around them:

"Hey, I'm not a therapist btw."

"Why are you talking to me specifically when you know damn well we are A) not close enough by your standards for you to be sharing this—and yet here you are—and b)I don't even give good advice."

"....that's crazy, man. Um. I'm not...certified for...all...that."

And people still keeping coming to them because:

"You're better than the school counselor when it comes to things like this." ('This' ranging from simple homework to trauma dumping.)

"We have a school counselor???? The fuck—I didn't know that was an option—!"

Most likely, I will never stop depicting Yuu likes this in my works

[octaves-of-estoiles]

[Second] Born of the Horsemen.

This little oneshot isn't my Yuu lore—or anything really. Just an idea that popped into my head that doesn't warrant an open document, but would be fun putting out there.

Character(s): Yuu + Jamil (No Romance + A snippet of Kalim at the very end)

Warning(s): None really, just discussion of not-so-healthy relationships between family. Obviously, a big theme of this drabble is the four horsemen of the apocolypse—this one being centered around War. um? Canon typical but bounced up a notch feelings of uselessness from Yuu.

Anyone could piece together that at this late at night, all dorms would be under the rule of 'lights out', ordered to stay in their dorms until sun-up the next day. Not asleep, just contained.

Yuu is under one of those rules themselves, just tweaked to fit their situation. Technically, the rule imposed by Riddle states that they must not leave Ramshackle after 6 pm for any purposes, unless life threatening.

It's not breaking the rules if Yuu never went to Ramshackle in the first place, and therefore never left it.

Earlier in the day—the entire day, really—was too much. Enough for Yuu to sneak off mid lunch time and hunker down inside an empty classroom and wait out the day.

Waiting out the day. Sat in one place, staring at the wall and doing nothing productive.

Their mother would laugh.

They shake their head, taking their hands out of the pockets of their jacket to blow warm air onto them. Yuu squeezes their hands into fists, hoping to regain some feeling into them. And it works, slightly.

But it's so cold on this island at night. The only warm place would be Ramshackle—out of the question. Just for a little while, they'll go back to Grim eventually and hold him to ground themselves for tomorrow—Savanaclaw, which they won't risk this late. And the other option is...

Yuu tilts their head, their feet already turning them to face the way to the Hall of Mirrors. He'd be awake, it's not too late. Most likely, he'd be up preparing for tomorrow.

And this has happened before. He's let them talk without him listening before. He's even said that he enjoys the white noise, given that Yuu never speaks loudly at this hour.

So, Yuu approaches the mirror to Scarabia and enters it without hesitation.

Yuu looks around once they land in the common room, knowing that no one will be awake, but still wanting to check out of habit.

And, out of habit, Yuu's feet takes them to the in-dorm kitchen, where they already hear the slight murmurs and shifting of items being moved around.

They knock on the door frame, waving softly as Jamil spun around to face them. His eyebrow raises, but the startled and overly-alert look in his eyes fades when he waves Yuu into the kitchen.

"Again? The both of us need all the sleep we can get, and you're skipping out on that?" The annoyance in his tone is more out of habit than it is malice—Yuu thinks he's too tired at the moment to actually be annoyed at them.

He pushes back from the kitchen counter top and gathers his papers into a pile, keeping them out of the way as he pours them a cup of tea.

"You know it's not that easy," They respond softly, taking the cup and blowing softly on it. He nods in approval when they take a sip while it's still hot.

He—and Yuu, somewhat—must still remember when Yuu couldn't hand the heat of anything really when these little visits began. Not spice, Yuu could handle that.

It was the heat.

And Yuu would never eat or drink anything while it was warm.

Obviously, that habit was breaking.

"...would you mind some white noise?" They ask hesitantly. He's always welcome to reject, has been this entire time, but like every time so far, he sighs and gives them the go ahead.

"I won't listen," He reminds gently, already going back to the papers he had out originally had out now that the kettle was put away.

Yuu smiles softly. "You know I don't mind that. In fact...tonight...I hope you won't."

Jamil's fingers slow for a moment and his eyes tear away long enough to give them another raise of his eyebrow. All Yuu can offer him is a shrug and awkward smile for his conscious and their words, which he takes. Jamil goes back to his papers, and Yuu's hands relax around their cup.

"I don't know what I've told you of my world...but I know that I've never spoken of my family. I think some people think I don't talk about my family because I'll get sad or homesick..."

Yuu lets out a scoff. "That couldn't be farther from the truth. I couldn't care much for my family."

"It's hard to care for a family that doesn't really care for you back. Y'know, I'm not even supposed to be here. My family is weird—determined on the 'only child' rule. But, mom and dad had too much fun. And here I am." Yuu gestures to themselves lamely, pausing to sip their tea.

"Nobody really cared what I did as long as I wasn't in trouble, or the cause of it. Not my parents, not my brother, not even the nannies. My brother bore the curse, so I wasn't important. So, I stayed in my lane. Kept away from everything."

"It's just...stupid, y'know? I don't even think that any of us are actually descended from the four horsemen anyway. Much less bare a curse. No one even knows what type of 'curse' either. The media just assumed is that whatever that family was descended from, that was the curse they carried."

"Like...my family was 'descended' from War—the horsemen. Do you have those guys here? Anyway—so, people assumed that my brother just...brought War wherever he went. He didn't care. We were taught not to care."

"..I'm really bad at explaining, and even though you're not listening—I see your headphones—I just wanna...clear the air, y'know?" Yuu twirls the tea inside the cup for a moment longer, then tilting their chin up and downing the tea in one go. They lay it back down on the table, continuing. "Basically? There's four families—super famous. More like infamous, but either way it's stupid just how much the media pays attention to us."

"There's a family for each horsemen, said to descended from that horsemen. So, my family—and by default, me—descend from War. But like...the 'curse' that actually brings the war falls on the first born, falls on my older brother. So, I'm good."

Yuu pauses to chuckle bitterly, then circles the rim of their cup with their finger. They lay their head down on their arms on the table, watching their finger go round and round.

"You think a curse can skip a generation?" They ask quietly, already knowing that Jamil isn't listening. "Just to pass onto someone much more suited. 'Cus, my brother wasn't bringing any 'war' or 'conflict' with the curse up his sleeve. Heck, he wasn't even good at anything the nannies tried to beating into him. I did. Got it faster than he did. Of course, not that it mattered if I understood it or not."

"I'm just saying. Taking in circumstance and situation, I'd do more damage with the curse than he would. I'm the one in a magical world, watching my friends go into overblot after overblot."

"Surprised no one has said it's my fault. It's pretty easy to connect the dots. Everything started after I came into picture. Maybe the curse did fall onto me instead of my brother." Yuu pauses, squinting towards a random grain of the counter's design in thought. "Out loud, it sounds like I'm taking credit for it all, even though overblots aren't good things."

"...I'd say, out of the both of us—my brother and I—that I am way more cursed than he is. And on top of 'bad things always happening near me', it's not like I can do anything about it." They sigh, standing with their cup and walking over to clean it in the sink.

"...Nannies never taught us about the feeling of uselessness in War. Then again, we were young. Then again, you can explain that feeling to a six year old, right?" They joke, chuckling softly.

"Just...gets annoying after a while. Being useless and bringing all this pain...war. That's the only word I can give it. Bringing all this war and conflict to NRC and doing nothing about it. All I do is stand by."

"....Cursed and useless. What a combo," Yuu drawls, shaking the excess water of the cup, then placing it on the drying rack in hopes that it'll be dry by the time Jamil decides he's finished and goes to put everything away. "...Wouldn't go back home though. Would rather be here and suffer than go back to where I was nothing."

Then, they turn around.

Meeting the eyes of a wide eyed, mildly horrified, but keeping it wrapped albeit poorly Jamil, who was most definitely listening and is half out of his seat.

Even worse, behind him stands Kalim in the doorway, hand over his mouth and his eyes wide, starting to fill with tears.

The three of them stay frozen for a moment—which feels longer to them all—before Yuu shakily moves to hold onto the counter.

"This can't be happening...this can't be happening, you weren't supposed to be listening!" They hiss to Jamil. The anger they've learned from their mother and from fighting with their mother breaks through their words unintentionally. Something they immediately recoil from and slap a hand over their mouth for.

"I always listen! I thought you knew that!" He snaps back, but his words are shaky and his eyes follow how Yuu's hand grips tightly onto their mouth. His hands grip the counter and his eyes sharpen as Yuu's nails dig into their skin. Jamil moves to round the counter, but Kalim gets there first—somehow.

Kalim's hand finds their wrist, gripping it firmly and prying it away from Yuu's mouth. The tears are slow and small in number, but they still leave tracks down his cheeks. His voice is shaky, but borders on demanding—in a way that never crosses over into the territory that Yuu deems as their mother's rage and disappointment and stays in the aggressive care of Kalim. It's oddly grounding, now that when he speaks—and he does, shaky and watery, but firm—Yuu doesn't feel the crushing weight of the curse of War passed down from their mother.

He asks:

"What more have you hidden from us, Yuu? You expect us to continue on as if we didn't hear—hear that? Cursed? Useless? What can you back those up with, because I swear I'll find a way to disprove them all. None of those are true!"

Words they've heard before—rarely, but once or twice—but it's only when he says it, with Jamil slowly creeping up behind, watching—nothing like the countless guards Yuu always had stationed near them, Jamil, Twisted Wonderland is different—that Yuu...

That Yuu is inclined to believe it.

This isn't supposed to be lore heavy, and believe me, I was fighting myself from making it so. But I will not. Tis only a one shot

《Once I find the post where I got the gif dividers from, the credits will go here!》

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Alright, what's next on the twst 'to be written(probably)' list?

Is that...is that all its supposed to say?

CPS

right...no...no other context? Okay, sure, I can work with that.

Um, and right under that is...hold on, lemme flip the page

Right. Here it is.

...damn it, I did it again. I need to start adding context to my list.

Magic caught up to yuu and they've gone and done the equivalent to dying without the 'dying' part. Grim overblot.

I guess it's more context than the 'cps' one, but still.

I'll get better at making lists guys, I promise. <- Lies.

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Convinced you have no place (When you yourself made this place) [Excerpt. Full Fanfiction on Ao3]

This fandom is full of great authors and people with such amazing ideas(even if some are a bit basic, they're executed really well and so fun to read!) and here I am pushing my, "they should all be friends" agenda🧍‍♀️

Guys I think I have a found family addiction. Guys. Yuu might be my favorite character. Guys. They're an insert character. (Chat, am I cooked?)

Enjoy, and if you go to ao3 from here(you will need an account to read the fic, sorry!) I LOVE any form of support from readers but I LOVE comments! Please, tell me what you think!

Yuu can admit that  of their part of the bad ideas they’ve come up with—most of which have been shot down by their friends in turn for another, equally as bad in Yuu’s eyes, plan—this one is the first they’ve acted on and the first they’ve acted solo. Neither of those things are enough to stop them in this current state of mind. 

It’s the middle of the night; no one’s going to blame Yuu for stupid decisions. Everyone makes them at this hour; what makes Yuu’s actions any different?

So, no, they don’t think sneaking out of their room, to the other side of the dorm,—being silent as to not wake Grim and avoiding the ghosts inside the dorm—opening a window on that side of the dorm to then crawl and jump out of it just so that they can avoid Malleus long enough to get onto the main path leading from Ramshackle to the campus so they can get to the library.

Nothing scandalous! Except the ‘evading royalty’ thing, but he’d understand.

Yuu needs to find an answer to what’s been gnawing at them inside the library. They’re sick of the barely concealed glances from others, of the questions hidden behind carefully picked words that’s never quite what the person is truly asking. Yuu is sick of it. Whatever it is, it’s common knowledge here in Twisted Wonderland.

They know it’s something personal, close to the chest kept information that everyone shares. So that must mean there’s some record of whatever it could be. 

Whatever it is, Yuu does not have it. And that bothers everyone else more than it does themselves.

Full fanfiction here! Enjoy!

[octaves-of-estoiles]

: ̗̀➛Introduction.

⚘ ➺ You can just call me Octave! No need to full name or use a work around or anything like that

⚘➺ This is all around a blog where I post the mind worms that eat at my brain while I'm supposed to sleep, so that I can pass them off to you and they can continue to infect like the parasites they are. It's with love, don't worry ❤

⚘➺ Some of my interests (read: the things I yap about often) are: Twisted Wonderland, Wuthering Waves (The lore has me six feet under; what is going ON), and, even though I stopped paying, Genshin Impact

⚘ ➺ I'd list my likes and other interests but we'd be here all day just bc I can't be put on the spot like that (I say as I type this. Don't think about it too much)

⚘ ➺ Art may come. If I ever figure out digital art. Or! If I start posting my traditional sketches!

⚘ ➺ I change aesthetics a lot, but purple is always a common factor. Purple is my ride or die. Everything may change, dividers, pfp, background, purple will always be there 💜

⚘ ➺ Asks/Requests are allowed! I'll update this page whenever I open or closer them. I'm not comfortable with anything NSFW(or just plain freaky. In both ways. You know what I'm talking about) but I don't mind dirty jokes or examples of dialogue(that are dirty in nature) in requests or asks.

⚘ ➺ Um. uh. Idk. That's about all you're gonna get out of me🧍‍♀️

: ̗̀➛Masterlist

ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ➛ Out of the computer (To care for you.) | Sickfic, Aether-centric, Self Aware Au ➛ Markiplier instinct | Genshin self aware au, headcanons. ➛ Excerpt from one shot | Genshin self aware au, full fic here ➛ Sunlight Dim. [Rays just as warm.] | Request/Ask | Jean & Barbara centric, male reader, ambiguously Jean x Reader .ೃ࿐ More to come...probably...

ᴡᴜᴛʜᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴡᴀᴠᴇꜱ ➛ Self aware au, but it's just a generational curse | Wuwa Self aware AU ➛ How'd they react react to your comments while gaming | Request/Ask | Rover, Pheobe, Brant ➛ Lupa: First Encounter [Both for you and for her] | Request/Ask | Wuwa Self aware au. Rover, Lupa, and You! .ೃ࿐ More to come...probably...

ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ ➛ Convinced you have no place (When you yourself made this place) | Excerpt from full one shot, read full on ao3 here! ➛ [Second] Born of the Horsemen | Miscellaneous one shot, angst, Yuu lore .ೃ࿐ More to come...probably...

I like to write, I like to yap, I like to stay up and think about countless fic ideas that may or may not see the google docs.

I hope you like what you find here. And, just in case, here is my ao3.

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Digital art so inconceivable to my mortal finger, it got me doing a step by step process of:

Draw out the skeleton on paper

Take a pic of that ig

import photo

good fucking luck on the rest

"I'll get it one day guys" <-the lies of a person who knows damn well, they will NOT ever get it (it's me, guys.)

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Hallo, how are you, I hope life has been treating you good, I have a request self aware wuwa characters Rover, Phoebe, and Brant hearing reader or player whatever you wanna refer them as, just heard them say "Phoebe's cheeks look very squeeze able, I wanna be able to do it one day." or hearing them say "Lorelei, is hot, damn, do I want to do things to her, anyways, time die!" Or recently in the latest event I've been getting mad at Scar and I've been saying "You insignificant fuck, kill yourself now!" Or another time I nearly got 100k damage with Jinshi, I was so proud fr, and I was happily jumping around, lmfao

life has been iffy, but I get to be silly on the internet and people seem to like it so.

Eh!

Anyway, yeah! I'll just use the characters you suggested! (Sorry if it's ooc, I don't have either Brant or Pheobe.)

《How'd they react to your comments while gaming!》

──⇌••⇋──

1. Rover

◇He...has to hold back the urge to raise an eyebrow, lest you find out he can hear you.

◇Then, he'd tilt his head, and silently agree.

◇He has no qualms on telling Scar to kill himself. He's not sure if you can feel his annoyance like he can feel yours, but if you could, you'd know that Rover is sick of the man.

◇Yes, it makes total sense you want to squish Phoebe's cheeks. He gets the urge at times himself.

◇Now, Lorelei. Queen of the night herself(itself?)

◇That...is a whole debacle in itself.

◇In the moment, you'd most likely have him fighting said echo, so he won't have the time to process what you had said.

◇Afterward, however, when you leave or leave him standing while you check something, he'll finally process what you said.

◇One blink, two blinks, then a final third.

"....what?"

◇He's far from innocent and he doubts that you are, but hearing such a thing from you...

◇Another blink, then he'll shrug and reason with himself that comments like these from you aren't new. He doesn't know why he's surprised at this point.

◇ When Jinshi hits numbers that make you physically jump up from your seat and hop up and down out of sheer joy, he starts to mentally plan out...suggestion to send you that'll help him do the same. You're his guide in this world, both of you are in this together, and hitting numbers like those will aid both of you.

◇When the ambient humming grows louder around him, along with a feeling of elation he's sure is partly your own, he has to admit to himself that he wants to see it again.

◇ First, though? Is a smile and small clap for Jinshi.

──⇌••⇋──

2. Phoebe

⚜You want to...w-what!?

⚜That so...bold of you! She won't protest, she supposes...be gentle, alright?

⚜Truly, she'd let you. She understand the want to pinch you're...fond of. (she can't handle the implications of that thought.) Just be gentle!

⚜She knows you'll be gentle. (No matter how much she gets hurt in the battles you put her in, you always heal her. That enough gains her trust.)

⚜oh? You want to...player, you worry Phoebe. The Order of the Deep has taught her many things, but these things you speak of? Has her tilting her head once you switch to another character.

⚜She respects your...preferences, but she won't hesitate to talk you out of it once you're either A:in Huanglong beside them or B: aware that they can hear you from beyond the screen.

⚜And, for you, she'll be very persuasive...by that, she means she'll let you squish her cheeks in return that you don't go off with an overlord class monster.

⚜The first time she hears you tell Scar to off himself, it's eyes wide and jaw dropping for Phoebe.

⚜Phoebe understands getting frustrated over battles, and the urge to blow up about it, but that? Oh my...

⚜...she sends something in the mail for Rover, hoping it makes you the slightest bit happier. Please, she wants you back to the soft humming presence that you are while exploring. This new presence...it has her skin crawling, the feel of hate filled eyes not even pointed in her direction...

⚜She sighs with relief when the battle finally ends, smiling softly when you switch back almost instantly.

⚜Just something you say in the moment, she hopes...

⚜on a brighter note, she hopes she got to see first hand Jinshi hitting such a high number!

⚜She'll congratulate the Magistrate, and then relish in the warm feeling of your elation.

⚜You like these numbers? She'll try her hardest to reach them, she hopes you'll help her!

──⇌••⇋──

3. Brant

➷"Oh!" -Most of Brant's reactions to what you say. Never mean, just...startled!

➷For a fraction of a second, there's a concerned expression on his face. Not for long though, soon he's chuckling along with your quips during battle. You talk almost as much as he does, and silence is only ever truly heard when you leave. When you're here, however, well, Brant has grown accustomed to the faint hum of your presence.

➷Is most likely terrible at hiding his reactions to the out of pocket things you say about Lorelei. Expect odd camera motions that he takes advantage to hide his face. He's trying desperately not to laugh, so just brush it off, yeah?

➷Now, this Scar fellow?

➷Brant is inclined to agree with you. Such flair is wasted on an opponent so...him.

➷Brant doesn't know Scar outside of battle, so he's fully trusting your quips and rants on the...debatable goat-man, and Rover doesn't seem to have fond memories of him as well so...

➷Brant hates to form an opinion without actually meeting the man, but...what's he supposed to do? Not hold a smidge of resentment when he's been killed in battle by the man and two trustworthy allies have negative opinions on him? You can't judge Brant!

➷He's pretty neutral on Scar, and when Brant properly meets the man, he will have a proper agreement or disagreement to your statement. Trust.

➷With Jinshi? Oh, he has a smile on his face as he tips his hat and slightly bows in her direction. The smile grows when she does a playful curtsey back.

➷You like big numbers? Well, he has a giant anchor and a massive amount of flair + determination. Don't worry, he'll be reaching the same numbers in no time.

──⇌••⇋──

...y'know, let me know if this OOC, okay?

because....I haven't TOUCHED wuthering waves in a very hot minute.

[octaves-of-estoiles]

all I need in life is a fanfic, comic, anything, where the reader or oc, is a symphogear candidate. That's all I ask.

It'll be isekai, right? And everyone around them will be like, damn this bitch is weird. And then they'll slowly notice how 'oh, they can fight' or 'since when could they sing while running' or just anything odd normal people don't do that the girls in symphogear do.

That's all I ask.

[octaves-of-estoiles]

Personally, one of my favorite tropes in media is when someone(usually the Mc, not always though) gets sent to somewhere else (whether it is in their world, just distant from home, or in a whole different world), and the people of that world are...weird.

The only good example I have is when Mc is completely normal in a world where A/B/O dynamics and biology are the complete norm 😭 and the Mc is just chilling and the other cast is just so worried bc what's wrong with them?!

(This is a cry for recommendations 😢)

[octaves-of-estoiles]

I just finished my first written fanfic of, like, ever.

Nobody prepared me for this