#I fought this one for days so the fact that there’s something post-able out of it

[autumnblooms]

Ekko: Can you guys not? For like, five minutes?

Caitlyn & Vi: *that one making out meme*

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN PT.3

Too tired to do my obligations, but too stressed out to sleep, so here we find ourselves again.

This, once again, got horribly long- so long, in fact, I think this is the longest post in this 'trilogy'-, so I apologize in advance (╥ᆺ╥;) I also apologize for the lack of doodles, but dont worry! Im preparing a special one for later <33

After that night where SY offered Binghe an umbrella, things have certainly… changed. Unlike before, where SY spent most of his time mapping away at the ridiculously complex castle hallways and carefully marking away which times it was most likely for SY to be able to get close to Xin Mo, alongside doing his ‘servant’ duties of gathering dirty laundry and cleaning a room here and there, his routine had been suddenly adjusted; now, while he still needed to do everything he was doing before, his servant duties consisted of accompanying the chosen Wife Of The Day.

Or, well, that’s how one of the higher ranking staff had put it, that he was to attend to whatever wife Lord Luo decided to entertain for the day, but honestly, SY was starting to suspect that that had been a convoluted way for Binghe to have SY around whenever he wanted, which…. Was frankly quite worrying! To have the golden protagonist keep his eyes glued on his back almost every second they were in the same room, which - if SY looked back- usually led to Binghe looking away in a (bad) attempt to pretend he wasn’t glaring daggers at SY was more than enough for SY to think the Emperor was probably plotting his demise.

What else could it be? Specially with the way Binghe’s hand seemed to always be lightly tugging at the tassel on his hair every time SY caught him looking, he suspects Binghe had caught onto SY not actually being a servant, and instead that weird guy he saw before he fell into hell that one time. What if Binghe thought SY was somehow involved into the Abyss Incident?? Lord Luo, please have mercy on this servant!

Though, maybe the strangest part of it all, was that sometimes Binghe and SY would just… talk. Usually when the Wife Of The Day was doing something else (e.g. playing music for her husband, or practicing archery, or doing anything that didn’t involve LBH 100% at her side), Binghe would just start musing out loud about the strangest things. It started with questions that were all fair to ask, like ‘How come this servant is a human in the demon realm’, or ‘How come this servant has such short hair’ (SY bullshitted something about being a former slave) but eventually it shifted to questions that were a bit more… random. Or, well, not even questions, musings that Binghe muttered out loud but clearly wanted SY’s input.

It started with minimal things, like Binghe wondering about some type of monster he wanted to fight but he forgot how to do it without damaging the fur too much, which, after a minute of silence and a not-so-subtle look at SY, led to SY nerding out and saying not only the monsters weakness, but what could be done with every important part of the body. Though, the day after that SY realized how strange it was that Binghe was wondering that out loud, since he only fought that monster well into his time as an Emperor, and he swore he remembered one of the wives gushing about her new bracelet that was made from the rare bones of that creature just a few days ago…

Anyways, it continued with questions of similar nature: musings on how to kill a monster Binghe would have no problem killing, to what he should eat for dinner, to what gift should he get for Wife Of The Day. Of course, SY answered all the ‘questions’, and sometimes they even made it to having an actual conversation! Sure, it was a little stilted, SY could not figure out for the life of him why the great Lord Luo was interacting with a random servant, but one day it all finally clicked to him. Binghe had been in the middle of ‘musing’ about hair oils(??), when SY couldn’t help but interrupt him:

“Ah…. Apologies if this lowly servant is overstepping, My Lord, but does My Lord just want someone to talk to?”

A few emotions flashed through Binghe's face quickly enough for SY to not be able to decifer any of them, but eventually landing on a sheepish smile. "This Lord has been found out."

Oh, how cute! And how sad! SY had noticed when SQH was just showing him his shitty story how sad that LBH, even after getting the world to bow at his feet, never really had friendships. Sure, he still had all the love he could want, but sometimes people need friends to talk to, not lovers!

While he knew that he shouldn't interact with characters in world overlooked by the System unless they were transmigrators, SY couldn't help but feel that the situation was dire enough that LBH would turn to a no-name servant in this time of desperation. And it would be a great opportunity to study Xin Mo more closely as well! If SY showed LBH the wonders of friendship, maybe he could pass by his supervisor that he only had to do what was necessary for this world to not implode on itself.

Besides, who could even say no to such a handsome man such as LBH? Is as the old saying goes: what the protagonist wants, he shall have.

*

SY's friendship plan has been going great! After figuring out Binghe's intentions, it seems all of the protagonists reservations flew out the window, and SY was now responsible for being Binghe's personal retainer. Not that that meant too much, since Binghe liked to bend the rules to his liking, and some tasks that should be SY's responsability sometimes were pushed to another servant or Binghe himself made them (which, ???)

Mostly, SY stood at Binghe's side, served tea, was used so Binghe could bounce ideas off of someone, and tended to finer details. All of that very much manageable, if not for the weird mood swings LBH would have sometimes. Yuan, as he has told Binghe was his name after being too scared of the repercutions of using 'Shen', was to accompany him all the time, but sometimes not all the time, or else LBH would get moody; Yuan was to listen to LBH's ideas and plans, and should always comment back or else Binghe would feel neglected, but not too much or else, as LBH had put it, could 'bring back bad memories'; Yuan was to tend to LBH's night routine, even as far as to brush his hair, and if he refused LBH (again) get all moody, but he couldn't brush too much, and he had to do at least one braid but NEVER touch the old, frizzy braid that still had that damn tassle-

Honestly, it was a careful game of balance, which reminded SY more often than not of a child that got mad when their older sibling didn't quite understand the redundant rules they made for a make-believe. Any other person would get fed up, and probably scared of Binghe's constant mood swings, but SY had him all figured out, and his resilience proved to be useful time and time again, since most of the time after his sour mood passed, Binghe would come crawling back with the most pitiful face ever, and what was SY to do? As LBH's friend, it was his duty to hug him and pat his head! (And no one could judge him for that, since if he didn't pat Binghe's head, his mood would plummet all over again.)

Though... SY did feel kind of bad. He wouldn't be able to stay with Binghe forever, and would even need to potentially steal his all-powerful sword for a little bit so everything wouldn't get corrupted. Honestly, the only thing keeping SY from worrying about being labled as a traitor and potentially getting killed was that he would just go back to the System's office and go on with his life.

*

LBH, eventually, caught onto SY's plan on leaving - really, it was only a matter of time. After that fateful encounter with that other SQQ, LBH had found himself in rather pitiful state, questioning everything he knew until that moment and wondering why he couldn't achieve that happiness, and desperately trying to search for a SQQ of his own. He had contemplated going back to that first world, but what would it even matter? Even if he took SQQ by force, his heart would still be with that other LBH, and Binghe couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't be everything in SQQ's world, as he had become for LBH.

Specially after Meng Mo had one day interupted his carefully crafted dream of an idelic world and pointed out some curious memories he'd almost forgotten about. That day, when back in his childhood, when he'd been beaten up by a buch of older kids and hallucinated a man in strange clothes before passing out and waking up protected from the rain. Or when he thought he'd lost his jade pendant forever, only to magically appear in the cabin later.

Or the strange man in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

After SQQ- SJ , that good-for-nothing scum- pushed him to the Abyss, he tried his best to never think about that day again, too scared by how weak he'd been, pleading to man that would sell his soul for one more night at that brothel of his if he could, but now... Now that he could mold his dreamscape any way he wanted, he could look back with a clear mind, which eventually led to the conclusion: It must have been the same person. The same strangely dressed man that helped him in his childhood somehow appeared at the Immortal Alliance again, and even had left provisions right next to where Binghe had fallen.

He'd convinced himself, after many, many years of wishing for a miracle, that he's simply imagined the man, one last thread to keep himself from going insane, but after meeting the other SQQ...

And then Yuan came in. A new servant that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

It took some observation, and a lot preparing himself to face dissapointment that maybe he was just projecting, putting the image of someone else onto a random man, but that day, when LBH was wondering if he was just wasting time, that that beautiful dream of having his version of SQQ would not happen any time in this world, that maybe he really should just go look at other worlds; after all, if it happened once, it had to happen again, right? Not that it mattered in the end, since while he spireled, much to Xin Mo's pleasure, an umbrella was put over his head, and all his doubts had washed away.

Yuan had to be his version of SQQ, it had to be. And after all his effort of getting close to him, after going so far to keep Yuan at his side, even if he still battled with that his perception of SJ and the other SQQ sometimes overlapping with Yuan's image, even if he still wasn't ready to let go of that one braid, he was becoming more and more sure in his assumption that his SQQ had come to him. Everything was going as planned, and LBH was in track to finally begin to properly court him, and yet-

He was sure Yuan wanted to leave. He wasn't sure why, not how he would do that, maybe just dissapear like he had all those years ago and either only appear again 5, 10, 100 years in the future or go back to wherever he came from in the first place. But LBH knew Yuan wanted to leave, that he needed to complete whatever mission he had (after LBH managed to pry that out of his dreams, which where another source of confusion, with how absurdly difficult they were to even get a grasp of), and that, under any circumstances, he could let Yuan escape his sight.

Not again. Never again.

Binghe had become even stickier in the last few weeks. Not that SY minded, it was very cute to see such a different side from the cool, badass Lord Luo, but SY was running out of time. Since Binghe became stickier, his mood swings had worsened even more, now not wanting SY to be anywhere that Binghe wasn't, and Xin Mo seemed to be thriving off of whatever was making Binghe extra protective, though it was becoming a genuine problem now, since Binghe suddenly refused to see any of his wive's to deal with the Xin Mo problem, and he seemed to be on the verge of qi deviation at all times.

In fact, the only reason Binghe hadn't already qi deviated was because SY was abusing his Personal System and chipping away at the qi deviation in Binghe's night routine, since it was the only time where he was physically very close to Binghe and could spend long periods of time manually coding away at the System screen without it looking suspicious.

But, as if that wasn't enough of a problem, since Xin Mo was having the time of it's life recently, the virus clinging to the sword was also getting stronger, leaving even more residuals all along the castle and bordering on infecting Binghe himself.

His Scissors where thankfully, repaired, and his sweet, sweet manager was even kind enough to send him some extra energy supplies, but at the rate the virus was spreading, he was worrying that he would have to deal with the source as soon as possible or else it would become to strong to deal with it in a non-destructive way.

He... Didn't want to leave Binghe just yet, specially since he wanted SY's attention more than ever recently, but...

No, he needed to do this; their time together was never supposed to be eternal anyways, and if he let the virus spread, he would only be putting LBH's life in danger, and he couldn't continue living with himself after that. He decided he would fix the virus at night, while Binghe slept, and by the next morning he would be gone - he would have, after all, just enough energy to go back to the office.

He just hoped Binghe would be able to forgive him later.

When night came, and SY got to doing the usual night preparations, it just felt like an extra needle being stabbed in his heart when, while brushing Binghe's hair, Binghe looks back uncharacteristicly anxious, and asks if SY can undo the braid and remake it. SY does, and if Binghe notices SY takes extra long to pamper him that night, he says nothing.

When SY is sure Binghe is asleep, he sneaks out of his room and heads to back to Binghe's. Yeah, maybe he stalls a bit with snipping off every piece of the residual virus he came across, but one could argue he was just being extra thorough with his job.

The excuse, unfortunately, didn't last long and eventually he found himself in front of Binghe's room, staring at the door as if he was about to be sentenced to death. After a few minutes of reminding himself that he needed to do this, he took a deep breath and slowly opened the doors. Binghe usually slept with the sword perched right beside his bed, so SY would probably have to use the System and put Binghe in an extra deep sleep if he wanted to make sure the other didn't wake-

The moment he places a foot inside, though, he realizes something is wrong; the room is empty, Binghe is not asleep in his bed and Xin Mo is not besides the bed. Oh, oh no, had Binghe-

"A-Yuan." Binghe says, and SY nearly jumps as he turns around. There LBH stands in the middle of the hallway, not even in his sleeping robes, with a hand clutched tightly on Xin Mo's handle. His eyes are watery but no tears spill.

SY tries to speak but finds he doesn't even know what to say, he can't even try to deny that he's up to something, since his gigantic Scissors are just out an about. Still, he tries to make Binghe understand, say that he needs to do this, and after this Binghe won't have to worry about anything anymore. Though it barely seems like Binghe is listening, and eventually just cuts in when SY starts to say anything in his panic.

"This is what A-Yuan wants, right?" He asks, extending one arm and presenting the glitched out Xin Mo. SY doesn't even have the chance to find an excuse, as Binghe immediately continues. "Than take it."

"Wh- Huh?" "Take it."

He's so shocked he almost drops his Scissors. What does he mean 'take it'??? Binghe has to know everything that's at stake here! He doesn't even know what SY wants to do with it! He tries to say that, how Binghe shouldn't just hand the sword to anyone like that, but a sudden burst of energy set his priorities straight. Shit- The virus! It's growing by the second, at this point SY will have to cut Xin Mo-

"...Binghe, I-" "I don't care what A-Yuan wants with Xin Mo! Take it, use it, break it if you want, I don't care! But if A-Yuan takes it, than he will have to stay." "Binghe, that's not..." "Why not?! That's your goal, right? Do whatever it is that you want to do with Xin Mo? Than here you go, A-Yuan can do it, but I won't let you leave me again."

SY can't even mask when his eyes dart towards the tassle on Binghe's new braid. Binghe just clenched his jaw, but it feels like confirmation enough.

He adjusts his grip on the Scissors, and, as he has nothing else to hide, dispels the System's illusion, his simple clothes glitching out to reveal the System's uniform. Binghe's eyes fill even more with tears, but none fall."

"I... I'll have to go back, Binghe." "No." "Binghe, listen to me, I-" "No. No! A-Yuan will get Xin Mo, and then he will stay." "I-" "You will stay! I can't-" Binghe can't even finish his sentence before he has to choke out a sob.

The virus starts warping the air around it, and slowly crawling up Binghe's arm. SY's decision has practically been made for him. He lifts the Scissors. Binghe pushes Xin Mo forward.

"...I'll come back." "A-Yuan-" "I'll come back, Binghe." One single tear falls and his arm jerks, not knowing if he trusts SY's words or not. He still his arm as the Scissor blades encircle Xin Mo.

"A-Yuan..." "I'll come back, I promise." "..." "I promise."

"......Okay."

Shen Yuan cuts Xin Mo.

[starcurtain]

Hello! I just saw your latest post and you might have been referring to my ask if it was the one about Ratiorine's differing philosophies or of what philosophies they abide by (existentialism, absurdism, etc) then that's me! If you weren't referring to that I apologize for the confusion. Sending it off anon this time so maybe it doesn't disappear 🥲

Sorry for the ask disappearing the first time; I'm not sure what happened, and I was so sad because I had been carefully holding on to it to answer it! I'm glad you were able to resend.

I do have to say first that philosophy is not my area of expertise, so there may be much more qualified philosophy buffs out there who can answer this more accurately than me, but I'll give it a go with my personal understandings of the characters:

First, Ratio is the easier of the two I think. As many people have said, he's a good fit for existentialism. His entire shtick is basically believing in the power of the individual to improve and enrich their own life, to fight valiantly regardless of the hardships imposed by their life's circumstances, and to make themself into a better person by their own choices.

It's important to underscore that this means Ratio believes in self-determination, in the idea that people's lives are not foreordained but are actually actively shaped each day by personal decisions. Therefore, people have inherent freedom to decide the course of their own lives by accepting what they approve of, refusing to accept what they disapprove of, and harnessing their own individual power to ultimately achieve self-actualization.

Essentially, Ratio works under the impression that life is not guided by something as intangible as destiny, and no matter where you start off in life, what ultimately happens to you is within your control (or at least within the control of whoever controls you). This is likely a small part of why it grates on him so badly that he wasn't recognized by Nous, because the fact that one can dedicate everything to a goal and still not achieve that goal runs contrary to his central philosophy.

If he believes that people have the power to determine the course of their own lives, then what does it say about him, who fought so hard to do exactly as he claims even idiots can do--seize control his own fate--and yet didn't succeed? Are there some things outside of man's power? It's enough to make even a renowned doctor question himself, and Ratio decided to come out on the side of "It's a personal failing, not a flaw in my philosophy." He literally said "Skill issue" to himself.

Changing tack a tiny bit here, I think it's also important to emphasize that there is a difference between existentialism and nihilism even though these philosophies dovetail. Again, I'm not an expert in philosophy, so my understanding is very limited, but the basic idea of existentialism is that "existence comes before essence"--that is, things start as a blank slate and gain nature and meaning after the fact. We are not created by some grand design, nor is there any inherent "purpose for living." Things just exist because they exist.

This is where existentialism intersects with nihilism, at the starting point that existence is inherently meaningless. But, in my personal opinion, nihilism as a philosophy fails to move beyond that. Pure nihilism is ultimately self-defeating because it leaves us with no motivation to commit to growth. It's a philosophy antithetical to the continuation of life as we know it. Existence is meaningless and any meaning you personally derive from existence is also meaningless, so why bother attempting to derive any meaning at all? This complete apathy is the Device IX that Star Rail paints as so dangerous.

And Ratio is not this way at all. His philosophy absolutely reaffirms that life can have meaning, so long as people create that meaning for themselves. He simultaneously asserts that anything that people create is not meaningless ...which basically means that meaning itself cannot be meaningless. (If that makes any sense to anyone.)

Frankly, I would argue that this philosophy may be a core part of why Ratio has not been recognized by Nous so far, rather than simply his "being a good person." (Nous is a robotic AI super-computer, why would THEY care about the presence or lack of human empathy?) Ultimately, Ratio's central philosophy about people being capable of determining their own fates and purposes also applies to his understanding of knowledge--knowledge is not something which is inherent in certain beings from birth or limited to the purview of the "special" (geniuses), but is attainable by all people. People are not "born talented" or "born untalented," they are simply "educated" or "uneducated," with the only barrier between these categories being one's own personal willingness to change. The mundane can become the divine--if they work hard enough at it.

Thus, knowledge is not wealth to be hoarded, but a currency to be spent to enrich other members of humanity.

(By the way, completely random aside--it also surprises me that everyone relates Ratio to Alhaitham from Genshin when they literally have such a glaring fundamental discrepancy in their understanding of the concept of wisdom... But anyway, back on topic!)

Ratio may (sort of) respect the members of the Genius Society, may recognize their incredible knowledge and abilities, but at the heart of the matter lies a single all-important question: Does Ratio even really believe in "genius" as a distinction (other than as a concept to insult himself)? Does he truly believe there is barrier between brilliance and idiocy that "ordinary people" can never cross?

He speaks convincingly about geniuses being different from "the ordinary," but if his core belief is that people have the power to pull themselves up out of despair and achieve greatness through effort and self-development, rather than some form of luck or god-given talent at birth, then... do born "geniuses" even really exist? Is there really an insurmountable difference between brilliant and mundane?

If knowledge is the equalizer of all sentient beings, do we not all have at least the initial capacity to become geniuses?

I personally think this central distinction about the capacity for knowledge among all humanity is the actual deciding factor in Ratio's rejection from the Genius Society, because, at the end of the day... how do you become a member of the "Genius Society" when you fundamentally reject the distinction of "genius" as an exclusive category from the start?

Ratio wants to share knowledge and uplift everyone (even if he thinks most people are starting off at the rock bottom known as idiocy).

His mission is diametrically opposed to the concept of a "Genius Society" in the first place.

He wanted in to the cool kids club because he desperately craves validation and acceptance, but the philosophical values of the Genius Society are ultimately incompatible with his own. In short, he would have to cease to be "Veritas Ratio" to succeed in joining the geniuses.

Okay, okay, back to the original point again, and just one more note about Ratio: Even though existentialism also goes hand-in-hand with absurdism, I don't think Ratio is far enough down the philosophical rabbit hole to believe in the wider definition of absurdism. Although I think he does agree with the inherent meaninglessness of existence, I don't think he views existence itself as truly irrational and the universe as as manifestation of unknowable chaos. I think he'd at least like to imagine that there are some ontological principles and inherent laws governing the operations of reality, and I think he does believe that certain things can be predicted with the application of enough thought... He certainly seems to believe in some form of "objective truth," at the very least.

I think he'd at least like to believe the universe is semi-orderly, even if he might deep down admit this is also wishful thinking.

So, to me he reads as a strong metaphor for pure existentialism, with deliberate rejections to both nihilism's apathy and absurdism's lean toward solely subjective reality.

PHEW, this is already long and I still have a whole other character to talk about... I had more to say about this topic than I thought. Sorry for the long read!

Anyway... Aventurine.

I've seen all sorts of things thrown around for Aventurine's philosophy, and while I think he does inherit a bit of Acheron's absurdism by the end of 2.1, I actually don't think Aventurine is an absurdist, an existentialist, or a nihilist.

I think Aventurine is a struggling fatalist.

He doesn't like it. We see him actively question it, but ultimately, he does come back to the concept of destiny over and over.

First, I think it's important to draw a clear distinction between Ratio and Aventurine: Ratio's existentialism is a philosophy that technically works even in a theological vacuum. Nous doesn't have to exist for Ratio's philosophy to function. Ratio's belief in the self-determination of humanity is, in fact, somewhat opposed to belief in aeons in the first place, and only works because technically the aeons of Star Rail used to be human (or were originally human creations). It's essentially an atheist viewpoint.

But Aventurine is a religious character. Like, he's just... religious. That's a fact about him. Even though we do hear his doubts, at the end of the day, he actually believes in Gaiathra, and believing in a omniscient supernatural being that is not human in origin (is from outside the aeon system) comes with a whole set of philosophical foundations that most aeon-worshipping characters just don't have in Star Rail. (Sunday is the obvious exception here, by the way.)

Kakavasha's like the one practicing pagan in the middle of an atheist convention. Awkward.

Being more serious: Religion requires faith. Faith requires the ability to believe in things you cannot verify with empirical facts. To believe in things you can only feel, never see. The belief that a goddess is watching over you, blessing you, and guiding you requires you to also accept the idea that events in your life are not always in your own control--that some of what occurs to you is decided by powers beyond your comprehension.

In essence, faith requires belief in fate. And that leads to fatalism.

No matter how much he doesn't like it, no matter how much we see him struggle with it, Aventurine does actually seem to believe in the concept of fate. He believes that some events in life are destined to occur, that some things are outside of individuals' control, and that ultimately not everything can be changed.

This is the dead opposite of Ratio's mindset: No matter how hard we fight, how far we push ourselves... in the end, sometimes people fail. Sometimes the only answer to our endless struggles is that we die, as we were destined to, before ever achieving the greatness we sought or the futures we were promised.

As an aside, I don't think faith or religion are necessarily the only factors connecting Aventurine to this particular philosophy either. Even removing theological aspects from the conversation, his extreme focus on the gambling aesthetic suggests a strong connection to fatalism too--if not a goddess, then one's fate may as well be in the hands of luck itself, of the whims of the rolling dice--or the push and pull of "powers that be," those figures of authority in the room where it happens, who make their shady deals according to preset rules and expectations, every bet resulting in an ultimately predictable outcome.

(He keeps gambling and gambling, hoping that he'll get a different result than the one he knows is inevitable...)

This is, of course, an inherently pessimistic mindset, a perfect dark-mirror to Ratio's deep-down optimism. Fatalism puts humanity into a position of powerlessness. All hopes and dreams are given over to the goddess, by whose judgment and whims the actual events of one's life are decided. Pain and poverty are inevitable trials. Suffering and death are foreordained.

And yet Aventurine has to cling to this, as much as he doubts it, as much as he hates the idea that things in his life are beyond his power to control.

Because if fate doesn't exist... If it wasn't destiny, if the tragedies of his life weren't trials from the goddess, if things weren't supposed to go this way... Then every single thing in his life really is meaningless. Everything he suffered, everyone he loved and loss, his mother's and sister's sacrifices, the torment he went through--just sheer bad luck. All of it, completely and utterly meaningless.

How can you convince yourself to keep living, in the face of such supreme and all-encompassing Nihility?

This is the central struggle of Aventurine's character, the actual mental and emotional journey we see him undertaking from 2.0 to 2.1. He is literally on the precipice, swinging between a viewpoint that he hates--his fatalistic belief in destiny--and an entirely self-defeating philosophy--nihilism--whose only possible final outcome is suicide.

This is what his talk with Acheron at the end of 2.1 is all about. This is how she saves him. In that final cutscene, we witness Aventurine reach a mental compromise, managing to finally reconcile his necessary faith in the concept of destiny with the reality that life may truly begin meaningless--but beginning meaningless does not mean staying meaningless, and believing in destiny does not bar you from making your own choices or finding your own purpose in life.

Later on in Penacony's story, we literally see Acheron use Ratio's philosophy to reject the same nihility that crept into Aventurine's:

Acheron wards off nihility's apathy through an absurdism all her own, but one which manages to enclose both Ratio's and Aventurine's otherwise incompatible mindsets: We have no way of ever knowing for certain whether the events of our lives are fated or mere nonsense. We have no way of knowing if our choices are our own or foreordained. But we don't need to know this to find meaning and value in them. Whether life is nothing more than unpredictable chaos or a predetermined pattern of cause and effect, what matters is what you make of it.

Ultimately, I think that this post has really helped me recognize just how well Aventurine and Ratio work as philosophical foils.

They really are perfect opposites.

Aventurine's fatalism is deterministic, while Ratio's existentialism is self-deterministic. Aventurine's philosophy is inherently pessimistic; Ratio's is inherently optimistic. Ratio's philosophy operates on a core belief in the freedom of humanity to decide their own paths in life, while Aventurine hates but does ultimately believe that people aren't really in control, that even if no gods are guiding us, we can't rise above our own natures. Ratio's philosophy makes meaning from growth; Aventurine's makes meaning from loss...

And they both struggle with fundamental doubts in their own philosophies, core questions that are directly tied to their own lives. Aventurine worries that his faith might be misplaced, that destiny might not exist, and that everything he suffered might have been in pointless, empty vain. Ratio faces the crisis of recognizing that his core belief in the power of humankind to determine their own paths and make their own meaning might not actually apply to everyone--because it doesn't seem to apply to himself.

It's literally only by bridging this philosophical binary with Acheron's anti-Nihility absurdist rhetoric that we can reach some sort of healthy outcome. That's why it takes both Ratio's note and Acheron's comments to finally lead Aventurine to acceptance. Ratio probably needs a little bit of Aventurine's "If you didn't make it into the Genius Society, there's got to be a reason" mindset to finally reach some peace with his situation too.

I'm not even a philosophy expert and even I can see that there's really only one takeaway here: These two characters were totally written with each other in mind.

Aventurine and Ratio need each other on core metaphysical levels! 😂

It's so good guys. You can't see it, but I'm making chef's kisses, I promise.

[anyydidi]

WRITING THIS POST BECAUSE I'M SO SICK OF PEOPLE MISCHARACTERIZING FORD!!!!!!!!!

Before we begin, everyone is entitled to their opinion. If you really think Ford wouldn't truly care, you do you.

That being said, I feel like people who claim that Ford wouldn't do a single thing to bring Stan back if their places were switched do not understand his character at all.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that he would open the portal. At least not right away. The one thing I agree with is that Ford wouldn't put the life of his brother above the whole planet like Stan did. He realizes the threat of the portal and Bill too much to do that.

But have people forgotten that Ford also loves his brother? Yeah, he was angry, bitter and resentful, but he wouldn't have just let Stan die in the multiverse. Especially since that would be entirely his fault he got stuck there in the first place.

For people thinking, "But Ford was too blinded by rage! He didn't care for Stan until after Weirdmaggedon!", have you seen the show? Have you read the journal? Through everything that happened, Ford kept a photo (tattered and worn, obviously taken out a lot) of him and his brother in his left, inner breast pocket which is the one closest to the heart. If that wasn't enough, for those who haven't read the journal, Ford kept reminiscing about and mentioning his brother before the portal incident. Even though those lines were often crossed out, it was obvious that at least unconsiously he had Stan in mind a lot. And at the end of the journal, it is written that he worked day and night, to the point of passing out, to bring Stan's memories (and essencially Stan himself) back. (Oh and have we forgotten about the absolutely shattered expression he had when he erased Stan's memories? You don't look like that for a person you don't deeply care about).

Still not enough to believe that Ford cared about Stan before Stan's sacrifice?

Let's talk about the fact that when Ford was at his lowest, that being paranoid, sleep deprived, tortured by Bill, drowned in guilt, and completely alone, he reached out to Stan? He says it himself, "I needed help, someone I could trust." After everything, he still trusted Stan to an extent and believed him to be his last hope. You don't give trust like that to people you truly hate.

Ford was self-absorbed and egocentric, but also hurt and betrayed. That feeling came from a misconception, but that doesn't make it any less valid. It is understandable that he acted towards Stan the way he did, with venom and bitterness. But we can be angry at people we love and still care for their well-being.

How I said earlier, I don't think Ford would really open the portal. He wouldn't risk the entire world for Stanley. But I do think he would do anything in his power to be able to bring Stan back safely. You cannot be telling me that he'd be able to live with the guilt and not do anything about it if he could. After all, in his head, it would be his fault. He got tricked by Bill, he built the portal, he made Stan come to him and showed him the portal and he wasn't able to let go of the journal and fought Stan for it. I'm convinced he'd still throw some blame at Stan for some of the fight to make himself feel better at first, but after some time he would just blame himself completely (the same way I think Stan did with the science fair incident). The guilt for all of that would eat him alive.

Let's not forget, Stanley worked for 30 years, basically half his life to bring Stanford home and I believe Ford would be willing to do the same. He would just go about it differently. He would either try to get rid of the threat of Bill and then be willing to upgrade the portal and turn it on again, or maybe try to find a completely different way to get Stan back from the multiverse, or in the end something entirely different, I'm not fully sure.

What I am sure of is that Ford wouldn't just let Stan be stranded in the multiverse without doing absolutely nothing. Maybe he wouldn't succeed, maybe Stan would actually have to find his own way back home because Stanford wouldn't be able to find a solution without risking their entire universe. But Ford would at least try, give it his all, because despite everything, he still loves his brother. Differently than Stan loves him, because Ford is a different person than Stan, but he still does.

So I beg you, people. Stop taking Ford's complex character from him. He can be a selfish, self-centered asshole, but he's not heartless.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 6)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer wants you to be the Mother of his child. Rated E bc Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

((This one fought me so hard, I just wanna get it out there and I’ll proof-read it later I’m sorry.))

The first time didn’t take, as you’d come to learn 3 days post-coitus with the Devil. It had left you bereft, not exactly disappointed but also not certain if you should go out and buy 150% proof alcohol to mark the occasion. 

You settled for enough wine to dull your senses before sending a text with your Hellphone. The fact that inter-dimensional phone lines were possible was simply added to the list of not-even-gonna-think-about-it of things that came with your new reality. 

A blood-curdling shriek from your pocket made you curse as you dove for it. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey-yy!” Lucifer responded cheerfully before clearing his throat. “So it um… it didn’t work?” 

“Unless being pregnant with hellspawn looks and feels exactly like my time of the month, no. It didn’t.” You said. 

He sighed on the other end, air blowing through the receiver and fucking up already poor reception. “Okay. Shit. Well, maybe we can work something else out—”

“I’ll just text you when it’s over and we can try again.” You replied as you leaned back against your headboard. 

“You-you wanna try again?” Lucifer’s surprise made your eyes roll.

“Yeah, just give me a couple days.” You’d felt a wave of fatigue crashing over you.

Suddenly you were boneless, barely able to even hold the phone up to your ear. Lucifer’s hesitant delight barely registered yet you could imagine him behind closed eyelids, smiling crookedly with those ivory fangs. 

“Y-I-uh, ok great! That works for me if it works for you!” He practically shouted. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“‘Mmmmffh, a nap.” Lucidity snapped back for a moment as you eyed the phone in your peripheral. “Also please don’t call or text me. I’m gonna throw this thing out the window if I have to hear someone screaming bloody murder one more time.” 

—

Lucifer being startled by the ringing of his Hellphone wasn’t at all peculiar. 

However — 

The sound of a love song, though tinny and compartmentalized to the King of Hell’s coat pocket, made Asmodeus perk up. 

He glanced down to see his diminutive brother rush for the device like his life depended on it. It was easy to feign polite indifference as Lucifer excused himself from the cafe table for a moment, but by the time the King had returned, Asmodeus was leaning forward expectantly. 

“That’s new.” He said. 

Lucifer looked up wildly, as if he’d been caught snatching aphrodisiacs from Ozzie’s own stores.

       “Huh, wha? What’s new?” He laughed off the embarrassment, re-taking his seat.

Asmodeous sipped from his teacup, clocking the many idiosyncrasies Lucifer displayed.

       He was flustered, still gripping the phone between his claws, and had perched on the edge of his seat so that he could bounce a leg against the ground. 

“Love songs aren’t your usual style, babe.” The Prince spoke casually, but his eyes were bright.

It was delightful to see Lucifer stiffen as soon as he realized what his companion referred to. One of the best about the short King was how easy he was to tease, if you asked the Embodiment of Lust himself. 

        “Didn’t know you were finally getting out there, Louie.” Ozzie teased. “Were you gonna keep it a secret? Even from me?”

“Oh n— out there? Me?! Ha! No!” Lucifer shook his hand fiercely. “I’m not — it’s not like that! We’re not dating! I mean, some might see it like that but a lot of others wouldn’t! She wouldn’t… probably!  It’s, ya see, actually — I — ahem, ah…” 

His embarrassment grew into something stranger, more conflicted and melancholy. The teasing smirk on Asmodeus’s face flattened. 

“It’s complicated.” He finished, looking down at his phone as if it were the sole reason for his sudden misery. 

Ozzie wasn't soft on many (in fact he’d argue that being hard was his speciality) but his brother was one of the few. 

The much larger Sin rested a hand against Lucifer’s back. “You wanna talk about it?”

—

The days that followed blurred together, monotony of aches and pains broken only by an insatiable libido. It was as if the promise of sex after this, however unfulfilling it might be, was the only thing keeping you alive. 

Lucifer’s bizarre consideration held up over that time, surprising you enough that when it was time to give him a ring, you weren’t as dread-filled as you could’ve been. 

        He did, however, arrive in your home via furnace suspiciously quickly upon making contact with you again. His normally pristine suit and and impeccably coiffed hair were ruffled and singed, like he’d made a mad dash to get to you. 

“Hell-Oh!” Lucifer had practically squeaked as you dragged him out by the lapels. 

You’re so pent up that it’s hardly a surprise when you find yourself sitting on his lap, having manhandled the short King onto your couch. 

His cold, smooth skin was still alien, but you powered through the initial aversion to chase after that zing that came with kissing him. It was addictive, even with the fear of being cut by his sharp teeth in the back of your mind. 

Despite yourself, you took a second to break away and breathe. 

Beneath you, Lucifer was positively flushed. His shiny, wet lips were parted in wordless awe, and eyes glazed over in his daze. 

“Fuck.” He croaked. 

You smirked, gripping onto the blond hair that had already been mussed and abused by overeager hands. Pointedly, you slid back and forth on his trembling lap. There was no way to ignore the hardness at his inner thigh. 

—

The first drag of his cock against your walls made you shudder, arching as your head fell back. 

Lucifer whined in his seat, claws digging into the plush of your thighs. The pain heightened the feeling of being stabbed twice, making your lower belly tremble. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fffffff —” His cries were so good, you couldn’t stop from grinding down onto him. “You feel so good. So. Good. You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart. I can't.”

“That’s ok.” You slurred, hands coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “We can work on that.” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, but you were already planting kisses against the corner of lips mouth, his cherry-spotted cheeks, the line of his jaw and the pulse beneath his ear.

—

Your hands were focused on exploring the planes of Lucifer’s chest and shoulders. He wasn’t muscular — or tall, obviously, but the lithe body intertwined with yours was more than easy on the eyes. 

“You can touch.” It was hardly fair that yours were the only hands busy. The ruler of Hell was flat beneath you, artificial light from your bedroom lamp casting shadows on his marble chest. 

Lucifer’s mulberry-dappled lids remained low, highlighting the yellow glow of his eyes. His claws slid up your hips, reverently tracing your frame as you bounced lightly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

He was more coy after the first few rounds, an easier grin sliding across his face. The trembling touches against your breasts spoke of the still-nervous creature you’d first been introduced to.

—

Daylight was waning again when you found knelt, back pressed against Lucifer’s chest. He fucked into you wildly, teeth pressed into your bare shoulder. 

The thought of him biting into you didn’t sound so frightful anymore. In fact the image set butterflies off in your stomach. 

That and the way he held you close, wrapped vice-like around you like a boa constrictor. 

“No baby, don’t go yet!” When you squirmed, Lucifer nuzzled into the side of your neck, breathing heavy. “Just like this. Please, baby.”

He pleaded into your neck, grip tightening to where you couldn’t breathe. 

— 

“Here.” You guided his hand, settling it between your legs. 

Lucifer’s thrusts had grown shallow and uneven, but hadn’t quite stopped. He seemed entranced, watching as you positioned his thumb over the bundle of nerves just above where you two were joined. 

“Gently. Watch your claws.” You murmured along with your hands-on teaching. 

When you felt he’d gotten the message, you sighed and concentrated on the circular motion against your clit. Lucifer remained attentive, moving clockwise as the pace he’d started before picked up again. 

In moments you tensed, pleasure sparking along your pubic bone. It built up as your eyes closed, head tipped back as you let yourself enjoy the pressure both inside and out. Your hips jerked upward of their own accord, core trembling and cunt spasming. 

Your partner whimpered at the new intensity, which only egged you on. Before you knew it, you two were rocking into a chaotic rhythm. 

With slit eyes, you saw Lucifer looking down at you, flustered yet rapt over your every little response.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly. 

You nodded. “Mm-hm.”

It was difficult. You could feel the tension in your belly contracting, the heat and pressure building against your clit. The feeling was mounting to where you couldn’t help your keens, your moans, your whimpers. 

It ended with a choked sigh. You arched from the bed, head falling back as you let your legs tremble and shake around him. The convulsions pulled the Devil in deeper, and the feel of him was enough to make your eyes roll back in your skull beneath fluttering eyelids. Another gush came at the thought of being so full you could feel it in your stomach. 

          Lucifer watched. His face was nearly as red as the apple that adorned his hat, knocked off of your bedside table. He had the expression of someone seeing a falling star for the first time. Stunned, eyes gleaming, unable to comprehend something despite how beautiful it was.  

The former Angel lowered himself to capture your mouth with his own. He pressed luxuriant kisses to your lips, all while his hips stuttered between your thighs until he was humping into you, refusing to separate skin from skin. 

His release was coupled with a heated groan, muffled by the slide of your tongue against his. You were glowing inside out, warmth blooming in your core as you held onto Lucifer tightly. 

— 

The woman had invited you up into her tree. It was a different tree from the last, not bearing any fruit but lush with green needles and strong boughs that wouldn’t break. 

She looks over her shoulder at you cheekily. “Aren’t you glad you decided to join me?”

You playfully scoff and roll your eyes. “You don’t need to be so smug about it.” 

“Oh I think I do.” The blonde tilted in your direction, arms coming to wrap around you. “I won.”

You stay that way, watching the nettles shake in the passing breeze. 

“Everyone loves a winner.” She says at your side.

You frown. “I love you no matter what.” 

The woman sighs. 

“You might not always.” 

—

Light humming woke you from your doze, along with the repeated motion of something against your cheek. 

It wasn’t until you’d opened your eyes that you realized it was Lucifer humming and caressing your cheek tenderly. He was nose(less) to nose with you, seemingly admiring your face slackened with sleep. 

“What’s that from?” You rasped. 

“Hmm?” The King stroked an errant hair behind your ear. 

“It’s a movie.” You continued, repeating the notes in your head. “Right? It’s from a musical…”

“You like musicals?” Lucifer asked, seemingly surprised. Fangs poked out of his close-lipped smile, and he looked goofier than ever before. 

You copied him, helpless to how silly he made everything. “What’s not to like?”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! Cabaret. That’s where it’s from.” 

“Yeah!” Lucifer moved even closer, the flat of his face pressing against your nose as he nuzzled you for guessing the right answer. “It’s kinda old, isn’t it? How’d you guess?”

“Psh, you think my threshold for pop culture is only as long as the last ten years?” You teased, arm skating down his side so that you could pinch his behind. 

“Hey!”

***

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[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area ch 4 progress

(read other sections of this and more stories here)

Danny floated miserably through the stacks, pulling out books that looked remotely plausible. Maybe he needed help. Jazz would help him without laughing at him, right?

Sam and Tucker absolutely would not. They would think it was hilarious that he had so little game that the universe assigned him a boyfriend via Jeremy Waters. 

‘As if I could pull a guy who looks like that,’ Danny thought wryly, and then felt a little bad about himself in comparison. Jason was, uhhhh, physically blessed. He was tall and well proportioned and his hands- Danny fought down a shiver and resisted the urge to steal another look. Jason was out of sight anyway.

Well. He still hadn't seen Jason's face. Maybe he was ugly! You never know. Or maybe under the helmet it was totally smooth, no face. That would be neat. Danny paused mid motion to imagine that.

Haha. Sick, man.

That concept cheered him up a little as he grimly opened the first book and started skimming for likely words like marriage, spouse, and concubine. 

He didn’t bother reading anything in detail. He stuck a post it note on each page with a relevant term and then put the book in a pile to take back to his dorm. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day.

Ah, shit. Danny paused. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day. He bit his lip and looked off in the direction where Jason had disappeared to do his own research.

He truly didn’t have time to devote to this right now. He was not willing to drop his school life in order to solve a sudden problem. Jason was just going to have to cope with whatever timeline Danny could manage without setting his life on fire.

On the other hand, Jason was a human guy who probably had a life of his own at the biker bar/fight club. Whatever the hell required that kind of outfit probably kept him busy! So Danny couldn’t like, just leave him in the castle to chill.

“Not to mention the fact that he shouldn’t be able to live here very long anyways,” Danny muttered to himself.

That was troubling him. Frankly, Jason should have been intolerably uncomfortable in the ghost zone for this long without specialized protective equipment. It wasn’t meant for humans.

‘What did Jeremy do to this guy?’

Yikes. Did this mean… Did this mean Danny should have given that little cult thing more credit? But Jeremy was just such a doofus. He grimaced. Embarrassing. Why were his enemies so embarrassing? This shit didn’t happen to, like, Wonder Woman.

Danny buried himself back in the books to avoid the growing suspicion that Jason might have been uhhhh magically altered to make him an appropriate concubine to a dead king. That thought sucked! He didn’t like it. He really didn’t like the idea of bringing it up with Jason.

When he had what he thought was a good first round of research, Danny shelved the books he’d gotten out and went to find where his …

He whole-body flinched at the point where he needed to plug an appropriate noun into that sentence. 

“Jason?” Danny called, juggling books into a stack. “I think we should probably get you back to the re- the human world. Before something inexorable happens.”

A pause.

“I don’t think you know what that word means,” Jason said. A book shut. Danny headed towards the sound, phasing through shelves effortlessly. A spark of curiosity lit up at Jason’s voice. He sounded relaxed, even through the helmet’s filter. 

‘I want to hear his real voice. Bet it’s nice.’

Wait. What? Danny shook the thought away, discomforted. He plastered a wide grin on his face. “I don’t know any words,” he lied breezily. “I’m just ad libbing. Anyway!” He flopped dramatically down onto the big chair next to Jason’s, making sure to be extra physical to get a satisfying whumpf. “We really should go! I can get you to the human world, but, uh, I can’t promise to put you back where you came from.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I think this is going to be a more than one day affair.”

Jason was watching him. There was nothing visible through his helmet, but Danny got the sense that he was tense, waiting for a threat. 

Which, what? Why would Jason feel threatened by-

Oh. Danny felt a knot in his stomach. Right. That made a lot of sense. He felt kinda sick. 

He didn’t let the feeling show through and barreled on speaking. “I don’t exactly have an easy way for you to contact me, but we probably need to stay in touch to fix this. Do you have any ideas?” 

The lie felt kind of gross. But he could hardly tell the guy; “I’m an engineering student in Gotham, you can just call my cell or come to the dorms.”

Jason seemed to relax at the cessation of control. “If you can stick around, yeah. I’ll get you a burner phone, exchange numbers. You’re not going to…” He trailed off. Danny felt a frown somehow. “You won’t have any signal here, actually. That won’t work.”

“I can make it work,” Danny assured him, hands up. “I mean, I can’t make it work here, or I would have offered to help with your tech. But I can pop in and out of the human world and check my messages.”

“That’ll work.” Jason’s helmet turned ever so slightly. “About the books…”

“You found something good?” Danny asked, impressed. “Yeah, awesome. Just be really careful with them, the librarian is a scary guy.”

Jason’s hand flexed over the closed book on his thigh. “I can take- how many can I take out?”

Danny scoffed. “I’m not your dad,” he said. “Whatever you can carry, man. You ready to go or do you need a minute?” He flipped back to his feet with a grunt. 

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING MISSED !!! ALEX A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she missed him, that was why they got into an argument that led him to make it up after walking out on her.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), hurt/comfort-ish, argument + alex walking out, use of explicit language, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (a big no no to me but i can’t help it), cockwarming, mentions of aftercare, not proofread

song rec: 13 by lany

note: i said i was going to nap before pulling an all nighter. i’m also a bitchass liar and wrote this in the span of 40 minutes looooool! i pitched this idea to @daaiissyyyyy few days ago sooooo uh enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

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if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

they’ve never fought like that before and they couldn’t lie to themselves about that. 

they were so used to being around each other for so long that “being busy for the other” was just a foreign concept for the two. and having an argument until one of them would walk out? 

yeah. they hadn’t expected that either. she certainly hadn’t expected alex to walk out, of all people. he was usually calm and collected as much as she was, but everyone knew that he wouldn’t be the first to head straight to his friends so he wouldn’t lose it on her. 

she blamed herself for how things had turned out. she knew all too well that he was busy, yet she continued to pester him and had given up and voiced her frustration. she hadn’t seen him for weeks— thanks to his triple header and her busy schedule at the university.

and when she finally expressed her concern, he didn’t hesitate to say how upset he was for the fact that she wasn't able to be there for his races— how going back to university had affected their relationship.

“you’re a dickhead for that,” george told alex after the thai driver arrived in front of his front porch and they spoke over a bottle of wine. george only scoffed at him, “she loves you despite your constant travelling for your career— and you’re unhappy for her decision to pursue hers? absolute rubbish, alex.”

and to be fair, george was right; alex shouldn’t be acting like she hadn’t been there for him since they were young. it was her time to choose her own path to success— and he shouldn’t be acting like a right asshole because she had a dream too. instead, he should be there to love her. 

and that was how he found himself shutting the door of their flat quietly, trying not to wake her up despite being a heavy sleeper. he hoped to hop out of his clothes and into his pajama so he could get up tomorrow and speak to her. 

but it seemed liked their conversation would have to happen now as a head popped up from the couch, frazzled hair and puzzled look on the woman’s face as she squinted lightly and called, “alex?” 

“he- hi,” alex said softly, his brow raising as he wondered what she was doing on the couch. 

now reading the expression on his face, she sat up and smiled sadly, “i- uh, i didn’t know if you were coming back tonight or staying at george’s so… i waited.”

alex nodded in understanding before he made his way around the couch. his eyes immediately trailed down the blue lace nightgown that she wore, her legs propped to the side as he realized that she’d been sleeping on the couch. 

she immediately scooted and allowed him to sit next to her. alex pulled her legs and rested them on his lap. 

he sighed, “i’m really sorry for walking out like that.” 

“no, if anything i should say sorry,” she smiled apologetically, “i- i know the season’s been rough. the points are weighing down on you and i shouldn’t have been complaining.”

“you’re entitled to voice out your worries, baby,” alex’s fingers innocently traced over her legs as he murmured, “i was just being a dickhead about it.”

“i just— i missed you so much,” she said quietly, alex’s ears perking up in curiosity and worries as she continued to speak, “school work is draining and- i don’t know. i just miss you— i miss your cuddles and just… your touch.”

“i’m here now, my love,” alex pulled her on his lap as his fingers lightly gripped on her hips. 

out of desperation, she immediately grounded herself against his lap as alex moaned lightly as the friction in his jeans. “fuck…” alex said almost breathlessly, “i’ve got to make it up to you, baby.”

“o— hah~ fuck alex~ ‘m so full,” she cried quietly, her legs growing tired as she continued to bounce up and down his cock. the sensitive spot inside of her overstimulated as alex groaned in pleasure, his hands were sure to leave a mark as he continued to grip on her hips. 

“did you miss that, baby?” he said breathlessly, his hands now guiding her as his hips began to thrust up and his cock began pistoning inside her cunt. she only let out a whine as alex chuckled, “you miss my cock inside of your cunt, sweetheart?”

“fuck, baby, yes,” she nodded eagerly, her tits bouncing in front of him as she babbled, “missed your cock— miss your cock inside my pussy- i missed this— fuck! please~”

“what do you want, baby?” alex let out a low moan, “tell me what you want. god, princess, you feel so good around me.” he growled quietly as he felt her clenching around his girth. 

he really had missed this. 

“i’m gonna- ah! fuck, baby,” she sobbed, tears of pleasure falling down her cheeks as she babbled, “‘m gonna cum. want you so bad- please, please, fuck me harder alex i- hah! fuck!” 

alex didn’t spend that much time considering her request, his hips were now off the mattress as he began to thrust rapidly and roughly. the tone of their moans and rhythms of skin slapping were making music, producing a sound of love to make up for. 

she let out a high pitched chant of, ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ as her walls clenched around his cock. alex’s groans tuned down to a lower octave as they both chased their highs. 

“fuck, baby,” alex groaned as he finally slowed down, filling her cunt full with his cum as she let out a strangled whine. her cunt throbbed around him as they slumped down on the bed. 

or rather, alex slumped down on the mattress while her body limped on top of him. she sighed, exhausted like he was. 

he tried to pull her away from his cock as he whispered, “baby, we gotta clean you up—“

“no,” she murmured and pleaded, “just… just hold me.”

“are you sure? baby, ‘m still inside of you,” it wasn’t anything that alex would be against, but he was more worried for her at the moment.

“‘s okay, i- uh,” she looked up at him with a flushed face and a tired smile, “it’s warm— keeps me warm… i like it.”

“are you sure?” with another nod from her, alex finally accepted his newfound love for this closeness as he sighed and kissed her head. “okay. let’s… stay like this then.”

yeah… he could get used to holding her like this. 

♡   moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

[kingkatsuki]

— distance

Based on this post sent to me by @toutoshodoroki. You know I can’t resist Bakugou in a long distance relationship.💕

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: fluff, long distance relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Bakugou[7.34PM] — One New Message

Your face practically glowed as you reached across the desk for your phone, snatching it greedily as you held it to your face to unlock.

It wasn’t unusual for Bakugou to be awake at this time, as you tried to do the math in your head to work out what time it was for him. His work often called for unsocial hours, but just knowing that you could now steal a few precious moments before he had to start work was enough for you. Today had been hell, as well as much of your week— so this was already the highlight of your day.

The distance was hard, but finding the time for each other seemed to be even harder.

There were no words attached to the message, only a photograph that you were quick to click. The picture was of departure boards which seemed as though he was inside a train station, no— an airport.

You[7.37PM]: Going somewhere?

Bakugou[7.38PM]: First flight out. Checking in now.

You knew Bakugou’s job was demanding, and it often meant he disappeared for long periods at a time. It was something you fought about a lot at the beginning of your relationship. You remembered the moment you’d called him a catfish, and you’d blocked him on all platforms— until you received a tweet from the Official Dynamight agency account which solidified the fact that you were in fact talking to the number two Pro.

It was something you were beginning to come to terms with, eagerly awaiting his return and appreciating the missions where he was allowed to contact you. A welcome change to have him closer to your timezone so you could fall asleep on the phone together or feel like you were actually with each other. Waiting at home for your boyfriend to finish work and take you out.

It was selfish really, that it wasn’t the fact that it could be dangerous or he could get hurt that upset you. Of course, you worried about him, really you did. But what you hated more than anything about when he travelled for missions was that it meant that it became harder to talk to him.

You[7.39PM]: How long this time?

Bakugou[7.45PM]: I’m thinking two weeks.

Your stomach lurched at the thought that you might not be able to talk to him much for the next two weeks, grimacing over the fact that your week had most certainly gotten worse.

Curling up into a ball on your couch as you continued to text him back, trying to get as much of his attention as possible before he stepped onto the flight.

You[7.46PM]: Where to this time?

Bakugou[8.05PM]: Sorry, princess. Had to get through security.

Bakugou[8.05PM]: Grabbing a quick coffee. It’s too damn early for this shit.

He’d ignored your question about where he was heading, which made you think it was going to be one of the more serious missions. The ones where he couldn’t disclose his location, and that he had to surrender his cell phone at the airport before he stepped onto the flight. Wondering if you’d have enough time to call him before he left, a quick FaceTime today would be better than nothing.

The call connected as Bakugou came into view. Holding the phone in its usual position by his waist as it gave you a view of his handsome jaw, a large coffee in his other hand and a hold-all slung over his shoulder as he made his way through the quiet airport.

“Hey, beautiful.” He grinned as he pulled the phone closer to his face to get a better look at you, “Look so pretty today.”

“No I don’t,” You whined. He was the one that looked pretty, even after what you supposed was minimal sleep.

“You callin’ me a liar now, huh?” He laughed, moving the phone as he dumped his bag from his shoulder. The change in angle gave you a view of the grey sweats and trainers he was wearing.

“I would never,” You laughed, already feeling all your stress from the day begin to leave your body.

“Good, you better not.” He chuckled.

“But you never told me you were going away, you know.” You mumbled, disappointed you had to find out this way.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” His chin disappeared inside the neck of his hoodie as he stared down at his phone with crimson eyes, “I only booked the ticket last night.”

“Oh,” The trip had been that late notice, “So where are you going?”

Bakugou pressed the screen as he turned the direction of the camera, pinching with his fingers as he zoomed in on the departure screen at his gate. The movement blurry, but you could make out the name of the destination.

Your city.

“Wait, what?” You held your breath, your heart was doing somersaults as you waited for his confirmation.

“Yeah,” He grinned, turning the camera back to face him, “Heard there’s a pretty girl that lives in this city. So I’m gonna go and find out for myself.”

“You’re lying.”

“There you go again callin’ me a liar, sweetheart,” Bakugou scrunched his nose, “You really trying to make me cry in front of all these people?”

“What the fuck,” You couldn’t believe it, after all this time he was finally coming to see you.

Tears began to cling to your lashes, pooling in your waterline as they threatened to spill over.

“You were saying last night that no one ever shows up or makes the effort for you when it counts, that no one takes the time, remember?” Bakugou continued.

You nodded on the other side of the phone, your throat tight from the tears that were now streaming down the apples of your cheeks.

“So I’m doin’ it, I’m making the effort.” He shrugged, his eyes softening, “Don’t cry, princess. You know I fuckin’ hate when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” You sniffed, barely managing to get it out between sobs, “Are you really coming for two weeks?”

“Yeah I am, baby,” Bakugou smiled, “If you’ll put up with me for that long.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever be able to get time off work.” You’d both tried to meet up in the past, but your schedules could never quite make it work.

“Yeah, but I think it’s about time I stop talking about how much I care, and show you instead.”

[intrepidacious]

❤️ a good time!

tat!bucky’s favorite (or least favorite) thing about twelve

… why not both?

cause and effect

chapter summary: How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.

pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: light angst and negative self talk (this is bucky y'all); some light pining 🤭please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i've literally had this one in my drafts for about two years and i hadn't actually planned on posting it for a while yet but i did promise distractions. and i missed him. i always do.

this is part of the time after time universe but can be read as a teaser and/or a standalone 💚

Bucky’s relationship with time has been fractured ever since a cold day in January that stole away the life he was headed towards and turned him into the monster underneath a child’s bed.

It’s hard to feel good about the concept of time travel once a lot of your own time has been taken away from you. Even now, there’s only so many things in his life he has control over; like the fact that he’s actively choosing to go back to therapy now, or that he’s able to keep a pet for the first time since he was thirteen years old. Stupid little things, like what kind of food he wants for lunch or whether he should take the stairs or the elevator.

Every single one of these things he’s fought for tooth and nail, clawing his way out of the past and carving out his own space in reality again, struggling, trying, hanging on like he wasn’t able to all those decades ago.

He’s probably still failing.

Some days, clinging to the present is tense and brings him nothing but grief. Sometimes, it feels like he’s going to have to mourn the past forever, whatever might have been; and maybe that’s his sentence.

He wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. He deserves worse.

And then there’s you.

Flickering in and out of time, constantly moving, changing in the time it takes him to blink.

It’s infuriating to him, the way you get to use your powers. The way you don’t need to think about consequences, because they don’t have to be permanent, don’t have to be something you need to live with for the rest of your life. To you, time has always been something that can be changed with a single snap of your fingers. Whatever you do can just as easily be undone.

Once you decide you’ve seen enough, you can just take the scene from the top.

And you’re so stubborn.

You’ve already seen how this goes on if you let it, and so you’re always right, end of story. There’s an ease to your steps because of it, a nonchalance in every movement, and it makes Bucky’s blood boil to see it so plainly.

With all the good that you could do, you choose to do nothing instead; to stay out of the picture entirely and burn through your powers just because you can, wasting them all on things that don’t mean anything.

How many lives could you potentially save?

Instead, you consume disturbing amounts of caffeine and then continue to provide running commentary to the world around you based on things that, to him, never happen at all. "Do this", "don’t do that", "take the other one", or, his absolute favorite, "don’t make me fix that".

Why not? he wants to ask, say, demand. Why not fix all of it?

It takes a while for him to realize that all of your fire means you’re burning from both ends. In fact, it takes Becca.

"You should bring her by sometime," she tells him on a rainy afternoon. "While I’m still alive and kicking."

His little sister just turned ninety-eight. Her kitchen sideboard is filled with black-and-white pictures reminding him of all the things in her life that he missed, arranged in perfect little wooden frames.

"And why would I do that?" Bucky asks, scowling at his cards.

"Because you keep mentioning her," Rebecca says dryly and whisks the cards onto her pile with quick fingers.

"You gotta be kidding me," he groans, noting down her points. "And I don’t."

"Do, too. I don’t remember you being this terrible at this game."

"Because I haven’t caught you when you’re cheating."

"Exactly. It’s embarrassing." She wins the next trick, too. "How’s Tuesday?"

"Am I clairvoyant now?"

"I was thinking lunch."

"No." Finally, he gets a couple of points down. When he glances up at his sister again, she’s looking at him expectantly and he sighs. "What?"

"You can’t fault me for being curious," she says. She has just as many opinions as she did when she was sixteen. Her eyes are still the same, too, the same shade of blue as his and the same glimmer of archness as their mother.

"Don’t you think it’s weird?" Bucky says, finally giving in. "The whole … time thing?"

"I think it’s very weird, but so’s you returning from the dead and kvetching about it." Her eyes narrow when he starts to protest. His mouth closes again. "Besides," she continues, shuffling her hand around, "it doesn’t sound all that fun."

"To have the power to never make mistakes?"

"To have to live through every mistake twice without anyone knowing."

Something about her words strikes him like a match, and so he tilts his head and squints at her and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s got it wrong.

That you carry not only your past, but all the futures you’ve seen that never came to be; all the what ifs having turned into answers.

And he thinks, how nice. And then he thinks, how horrifying.

It’s a thought that follows him over the next couple of weeks, and it starts reframing your interactions for him, in a way.

"Will you stop staring at me," you say without looking up from your book.

Honestly, he can’t. He’s still trying to pick up on it, the split second between before and after, that little change of your posture, your hair, your face, that tells him more time has passed for you than it has for him.

It’s more of a feeling than anything else, something right at the back of his mind telling him that something is different if he concentrates on it enough, but he’s never sure what it is. And he doesn’t like that; not one bit.

So Bucky crosses his arms and leans back. "Why?"

A flash of irritation makes your nose twitch, even though you still refuse to meet his eye.

"It’s rude, for one."

"Noted." He waits for the two that never comes. "Anything else?"

And there it is. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of moment, like the air shifting around you ever so slightly, a certain knowing glint in your eyes when you roll them and get up.

"Annoying!"

He can’t help it. He wonders what your original answer was.

***

Bucky’s relationship with time changes slowly, the deepest cuts carefully mending themselves until looking back doesn’t feel like getting his bones ripped apart anymore, until he looks at you on a cold day in January and realizes he’s fucked.

At first, he hopes that it might be a fluke. A trick of the light, maybe, or seasonal allergies. That’s the reason why his eyes are drawn to your face as soon as he enters a room; the closest source of discomfort always the thing he seeks out first. That’s the reason why his chest constricts like that.

But the truth is, he knows this feeling has been building slowly; he’s just been unwilling to admit it.

Something soft and delicate has started to nestle in that gaping hole inside his chest, unbothered by the walls he’s so carefully built up.

He’d never planned on you.

Fuck, if he’d known in the beginning, he might’ve …

No, he thinks. He wouldn’t have changed anything.

Because you’re too good for him, anyway, and he knows it. Smart and strong and funny and gorgeous and capable of things he’s not sure he’ll ever fully comprehend; and it’s worse than that, because he knows you now.

You’re grouchy in the mornings and you make terrible jokes when you’re nervous and you have a strange feud with his cat and your smile makes him want to put his fist through the wall because what is he supposed to do with any of this?

He’s not made for this dance anymore. That part was taken from him so long ago, and he’s delusional to think that anything or anyone could return it to him after all the bridges he’d been made to cross and burn. Why would someone like him deserve to be given tenderness anymore in this life? Why would anyone want to try?

But that foolish thing blooming inside him feels a lot like hope, despite of what he keeps telling himself.

There’s just something about you that keeps pulling him in, and honestly, he’s tired of fighting it. Then again, the thought of you feeling the same is nothing short of ridiculous.

He’s not the same guy as he used to be. Hell, sometimes he’ll look at old photographs and barely recognize himself.

He remembers life before, and maybe that’s what makes this so hard. He remembers talking to pretty girls, their bright smiles, their soft skin underneath his hands. Good times were easy to come by, even though life was hard in a different way, then. But he was good at it; acting on his feelings alone used to be simple, fun, second-nature almost.

It’s different now.

It used to be different only once before, and look where that’s gotten him.

No, he can’t say anything. Not ever; or not yet, at any rate.

Sometimes, though, Bucky lies awake at night and listens to the rain knocking against his window, and he remembers how much easier falling asleep used to be when he had someone next to him and his mattress didn’t swallow him alive.

He’ll remember the dark circles under your eyes and wish it could be as easy as asking, too. He wonders if there’s a universe you remember where he tries, but he doubts it.

These days, he knows his mind again. And it’s not a burden he wants to share.

You have enough to carry on your own.

Maybe, he thinks as he stares up at the ceiling at three in the morning, maybe there’s still a certain comfort in your powers, in knowing all the possibilities, but it also means constantly losing something that’s real; always mourning the life that isn’t.

He can relate to that.

And maybe that means you can relate to him, too, at least a little bit.

It’s odd, how comforting that last little thought is to him.

When he does eventually fall asleep, you make your way into his dreams, too, sometimes. Those times are the worst.

You’re you, and he’s him, and there’s a sort of "us" in the both of you that doesn’t exist in real life. So when you let him lace his fingers with yours and press your lips to his forehead and it feels easy, that’s usually the point when he wakes up, heart tumbling over itself, right hand tracing the ghost of your touch, always too much, never enough.

He knows it’s not real.

He knows it’s just an indulgence; selfish, really.

The problem is that whatever small hope has decided to settle in his very core is impossible to kill, no matter how much he pushes it down; and he’s not sure he wants to lose it again.

Secretly, silently, serendipitously, you make him have faith in the future again.

But it’s not time for it yet.

if you want to read more about these two (plus a lot of time related shenanigans), read the main series here. or check out the rest of my bucky fics, that's also an option 💚 i don't do tag lists but you can follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications

[intimidating-fettuccine]

This post is coming from me in my space of panic and resignation that I have been in all day, but I just. I felt the need to say anything at all.

Please do what you can to survive. This week, for the next few years, maybe forever. Please do what you can to survive. We cannot give up, we have to remain unified and continue supporting each other. That is all we can do. I don’t know what the future will look like, but we should be prepared to handle anything.

If you are like me, a female, I wish you so much support. With the rights we are about to lose, please keep yourself safe. Look into birth control if you can, especially IUDs or implants, I’ve been doing that myself. Please only surround yourself with people that you know are trustworthy. I’ve seen lots of women saying they’re going to be joining the South Korean 4B movement (not dating, having sex with, marrying, or having children with men), and honestly I encourage it. Even if you’d like to be a mother, it’s not safe anymore. If something goes wrong with your wanted pregnancy, there’s an incredibly high likelihood that you will not be able to receive care. That is a horrific reality, but it’s something we need to be aware of. If you are in a safe, loving relationship I am incredibly happy for you and I wish you the best. If you are not, or if you are single, do whatever you can to get to a safe place, please.

To any of my LGBT+ followers, please remain safe. Please, please, please be careful, with what you say, with who you talk to, with how you present yourself. I can’t even imagine how terrifying things might become, but I don’t want any of you to be ashamed, to stop being who you are. Just please be safe in how you do so. I wish you all so much luck and love because you all deserve to be free to express yourselves, to live as who you are in freedom and not be so heavily judged and prosecuted and punished. Please have safe spaces, and safe people to surround yourself with if you can. This blog will ALWAYS be a safe and inclusive space for you. I see you, and I accept you, and I support you so much. Please take care.

My support goes out to everyone who is about to be effected, because it is about to be more than just women and LGBT+ members, but I wanted to touch on those two specifically because they are the ones closest to me. I love you all. I’m sorry that this is how things turned out, but we need to keep going. We need to stay strong. We need to keep fighting and surviving because they want us to give in and we can’t do that. It might get incredibly tough next year, in the next four years or even longer, but you cannot give them the satisfaction. You have to outlive them, to prove to them that you can survive and that you deserve to be here.

I don’t particularly care if anyone thinks I’m being dramatic about this and I’m not trying to fearmonger. I don’t want anyone to be scared, but I can’t hide the fact that I’m scared. That I don’t know how things are going to look moving forward. But I care about each and every one of you.

Continue living with airport rules right now (doing whatever it takes to get to your destination of the future). He’s not in there yet. We are still safe right now. Please do what you can to prepare and to steel yourself for any outcome. But, for the next couple weeks, please just take care of yourselves. Indulge in activities you love, eat food you love, sleep as much as you can, take care of yourself as much as you can. You are not alone in this. Everyone that voted for her, we are all in this together. We cannot forget that.

I love you all so much. Please be safe. Know that you are not alone. Be strong, and be proud of what you fought for and who you are. You deserve to be here, and you deserve to be who you are.

[roseofdarknessblog]

Uncertain tomorrows (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 2 410

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: You and Levi slowly start to realize that the war is finally over.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Uncertain tomorrows

Suddenly, the whole world around you got so eerily quiet. As night came over Fort Salta it felt as if time had stopped. Those fortunate enough fell asleep, others were sitting or laying around, while a couple of people were still wandering outside, thinking about what happened just a couple of hours ago.

This was it.

The end.

The end you all fought so hard for.

„Stop staring at the ceiling and get some sleep,“ said a hushed male voice right next to you.

Levi was right, closing your eyes and sleeping for at least a couple of hours was the best possible thing you could do. But how were you supposed to do that? With everything that happened, your eyes were filled with tears every other moment. And even though you never let them roll down your cheeks, it felt as if you had cried your whole soul out at least a hundred million times.

„Not that you should be doing anything else...“ you mumbled quietly and rolled onto your left side to look at him.

All the airship hangars were empty now. Well, not entirely. They served as a good place for all of you, the Marleyans, and all the refugees from Liberio to spend the night in. Nobody knew what would follow and many people didn’t even dare to ask. They were happy with the fact that they survived the end of the world. For many, that was more than enough for the next couple of hours and maybe even days.

To be honest, it was enough for you as well. All that mattered, was that you and Levi were still together. With so many memories running through your mind, the fact that he was still alive was the most important one.

„Are you still in pain?“ you asked and reached your hand over to him, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. His right eye was still bandaged and the left one was closed. He was trying his best to get some much-needed rest. Even though he fought just like during old times, shortly after it was over the pain caught up to him. When all the adrenaline was gone, he wasn’t even able to stand up on his own or talk through the pain his whole body was in. „I could go find that Marleyan medic and ask for more painkillers.“ He shook his head and slowly turned it to the side to look at you in the darkness.

You were more than grateful when the man, your enemy not too long ago, took care of Levi’s injuries. He did his best with the little he had on hand and you were sure that you would never forget that. It was better than nothing, even though you still worried about Levi a great deal.

Getting him to a proper doctor or even to a hospital was something you knew that needed to be done soon. But how? How would you do that? Where would you go? There was... simply nothing. Just deserted rocky terrains or scorched empty fields of land. The only civilization was the people around you – the Scouts, the Eldians from Liberio, and the members of the Marleyan military.

„How’s your leg doing?“ you dared to ask in a whisper, not wanting other people in the hangar to hear you.

„Cutting it off would hurt less,“ he hissed through gritted teeth, closing his only healthy eye once again.

You knew that he was coughing up blood earlier during the fight. And when you asked him about it, he scoffed and said that it was only because he accidentally bit into his lower lip and tongue during the fight, so he had to spit out the blood from his mouth. You didn’t believe him even a little bit and kept a very close eye on him but... that was truly the only thing you could do. Besides praying to every possible god in the universe that he would pull through like every time.

„You sure you don’t want those painkillers?“

When he didn’t respond, you were left alone with your torturous thoughts once again. And slowly, it was more than you were able to take.

All of you killed Eren and saved the little that was left of the world and its population, you lost people along the way and you were also turned into a Titan. You fought against the Rumbling, against all the previous nine titans... against the boy, who years ago came into the Scouting legion with a dream of eradicating all titans.

And even if that dream of his was fulfilled in a very gruesome and twisted kind of way... well... it did happen in the end. All the titan powers were gone once and for all. Or at least that was what you were hoping for.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Levi spoke again. „Aren’t you going to ask that question?“

„What question?“ you asked a little confused and found Levi’s hand in the darkness under the blanket. Only then you realized that his hand, and probably the other one too, was tightly curled into a fist.

„About what’s going to happen now. Tomorrow, in a week, month...“

„No, I’m not. I don’t have the strength or brain capacity to think about that. Not now, maybe later.“

Maybe after the realization, that everything really came to an end will set in. But until then, you felt like you’d stay stuck in some kind of bubble, where the past, present, and future were mixed together, creating a portrait full of sorrow and uncertainty.

A shiver, that ran down your back, made you move a little closer to Levi and hold his hand a little tighter. You very gently interlocked your fingers and moved your head, so your forehead was resting against his shoulder.

„Are you worried about cuddling up to me properly?“ he asked, the remaining fingers of his injured hand running through your messy hair.

„I don’t want to hurt you, that’s all. You’re hurting all over.“

„That doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel you as close as possible,“ he whispered and rolled onto his side with a painful sigh you’ve never heard from him before.

All everybody had were a couple of blankets or coats from the military or the Eldian refugees, but it had to be enough. It was still better than lying on the ground itself. Another positive thing was, that the night wasn’t too cold. So laying there, in a dark corner of one of the hangars was more than bearable. The only truly important thing was the man lying there beside you, whose warmth was reassuring and calming. Just like during old times, when you were still living in the Underground together.

„It doesn’t seem real,“ you whispered and wrapped your arm around Levi carefully, resting your foreheads together. When the tips of your noses touched gently, you smiled a little and kissed his lips lightly. „We were fighting for so long and it’s done now. We don’t need to do it anymore, there’s no war to win now, we did it. All of us... together.“

„Almost all of us...“ Levi corrected you almost inaudibly and brushed his lips against yours again. It was such a gentle movement but so full of love.

„I still remember the day you, Isabel, and Furlan left the Underground and the day you came back for me. I remember my first days spent in the sunlight, how it pained my eyes, and how sunburnt I got all over my face during the very first training.“

„Shitty glasses gave you that awfully smelling cream.“

You chuckled and gently caressed the back of his neck, letting your fingers slide into his hair. It had grown a fair bit over the month he spent in the forest with Zeke. „But it did help a whole lot, don’t forget. My skin was okay in two days.“

„Yeah...“

Losing Hange was something that scarred both of your hearts. They were with you since day one and suddenly... suddenly they were not. It wasn’t easy to process, even after everything that happened since then. You still saw them right there before your eyes when you closed them and you couldn’t believe you’ll never hear their cheerful voice again.

But then again, the same feelings tortured you when it came to many other people. Your heart hurt for Sasha, Erwin, Moblit, Miche, Nanaba, Isabel, Furlan, Petra, members of your own squad, and many more. It hurt just as much, as Eren’s death. Because until the very end, you believed that there was a way to bring him back from the path he chose to walk down. You believed Armin and Mikasa, Jean and Connie, who never wanted to give up on their friend, would talk sense into him. You hoped... so damnd much... that it wasn’t late for him to turn back.

But eventually... you simply had to face the fact, that not all things can be undone and not all people can be saved.

Thinking about all of your fallen friends and comrades made you stay quiet again. While Levi was absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair, you were running your hand up and down his back comfortingly. He never felt this fragile in your arms and that put tears in your eyes again. 

With your foreheads still pressed together, you could feel his warm breath on your face when he talked. „You’ll finally have the chance to wear those pretty flower dresses you always liked so much.“ His lips met yours in a loving kiss.

You nodded with a smile, stroking his cheek. „That will be nice for a change. No more uniforms or ODM gears, no more training...“

Eventually, you would miss all of that, you were sure. After all, military life was all you knew for almost fifteen years. But a little change sounded more than welcoming. Having the chance to finally live a different life. A happy and safe one. A life where you and live could be just... well, Y/N and Levi. Two ordinary people – best friends and lovers, not soldiers.

„Years back, when I was badly injured after the encounter with the Female titan... you promised me that if I pull through, we’ll get married,“ you whispered into his ear, brushing your lips over his cheek. „And then things got crazy with Eren and... we haven’t really had the time ever since.“

„Maybe now...“ he said, trying to pull you even closer to his body. He never had a problem doing it until now. So it had to be you, who scooted closer and found a way to lay comfortable again, while your own body was hurting and bruised from all the fighting. „We can finally do whatever the hell we want.“

„All the stupid things we never got to try,“ you chuckled, wrapping him in a loving hug.

„We can mourn all we want and then just move on.“ His voice was getting quieter, while you could finally feel his body relaxing against yours.

„Get lost in all the grief and pain, all the heartbreak and then... we’ll wake up one morning and not feel it ever again. Or at least not that much.“ Your fingers once again found their way into his silky black hair, stroking and massaging his scalp very gently. „We’ll have the life all of them dreamed about. And we’ll live. For them and for us.“

Both of you could hear your voice breaking, while tears eventually rolled down your cheeks. And it felt so damn good to finally let yourself cry and grieve. It was a way to ease the pain that was pounding through your entire body.

„We’ll figure something out, we have the rest of our lives to do that,“ you added in a reassuring tone, kissing the top of Levi’s head.

He really wasn’t in the mood for talking or dreaming about the future. And that was perfectly fine. Even you weren’t in the mood, to be honest. You tried to do it only to keep your mind occupied and not to let it wander to the worst places.

Hours were slowly passing you by in complete silence. Levi was resting in your arms, avoiding even the slightest movement to not feel any more pain. Even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t even think about falling asleep. Fear didn’t let you do it. So instead, you kept a watch over Levi. In the silence of the night, you focused on his calm breathing until morning came around. He finally fell asleep just a few minutes before sunrise.

Soon after, Jean came to check up on the two of you. He looked just as exhausted as you were feeling, so he probably didn’t get any sleep either. You assured him that everything was okay and that if anything came up, you would come and find him or the others.

„Was it all just a dream?“ Levi asked in a whisper maybe an hour later, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You could hear voices from outside, people were starting to wake up and move around once again.

„No, it wasn’t. It’s over and we made it out alive.“

Levi nodded slightly, pressing his lips to your neck and tightening his grip around you. When you closed your eyes at that moment, all the events of the past years seemed unreal. Suddenly, you felt like a kid once again. A small girl growing up under the Capital, who was only dreaming about living up on the surface in the sunlight.

„We came so far, Levi, and made all of them proud, I’m sure about that. Today, we got the chance to wake up into a world they all helped to create... for us.“

„And we’ll honor them by living the best life we possibly can,“ he added and looked up at you. With tears in the corners of your eyes, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and hugged him even tighter so as to never let him go anywhere without you.

Yesterday, you all left your past lives behind and today all of you woke up to a brand new beginning. With so much pain and sadness in your hearts, you got the chance to look into the future and be present for a fresh new start humanity needed so much.

[iz-star]

My thoughts and guesses / theories about Zayne's upcoming main story branch.

Like I've said in previous posts, I've been hella busy with work and most of all, exhausted so I haven't been able to come here and scream about the game updates (let alone draw something) but I still want to summarize my reactions from the past few days.

About the main story update, I'm really excited to see what's going to happen! I love the Dawnbreaker references but I have to be honest, I don't really think this is Dawnbreaker, he's still Dr Zayne (they both are part of each other somehow, but you understand what I mean).

Here's why:

At first, I genuinely thought this time we really would get the chance to interact with Dawnbreaker since Zayne is wearing DB's outfit and not a jumpscare outfit like in Snowy Serenity but the more I watched the trailer, the more I realized that this is still Dr Zayne which both makes me feel alleviated (cause if it were to be Dawnbreaker, it would leave us wondering where Dr Zayne is) and scared cause if he gets to suffer/ sacrifice himself in this time line like he did as Foreseer and MoF, I don't know well how I'll handle it.

He's a male lead so I don't think they will kill him off (? but somehow with Zayne one never knows, he's honestly always surprising us. In any case, my wildest theory is that if something happens to Dr Zayne, then we'll continue his branch with Dawnbreaker... idk? Anyway, don't really pay too much attention to this since it's most unlikely that something like this happens.

The impression I got after watching the trailer so many times is that this is actually Dr Zayne in the process of becoming 'Dawnbreaker' (maybe not exactly his other self but the concept) which has been one of his biggest fears; the reason? Because the Xander Sciences experiments, the severe cases of Protocore Syndrome and Metaflux anomalies are probably speeding the process of humanity to get doomed since in Dawnbreaker's world, humans turning into wanderers is something pretty recurrent and the very reason Zayne is a killer and his world is apocalyptic. Dr Zayne knows of this, he knows using protocores in human hearts is dangerous (the very reason he gave up his research in university), he also knows that to be exposed to big quantities of metaflux is what turns humans into Wanderers, he knows it because when he and William fought side by side in Mt Eternal, it was in order to destroy a Protofield that got out of hand and the Metaflux anomalies there were bringing to land more Wanderers. It was until they destroyed the protofield when William started to turn into an Abomination and then, a Wanderer.

In the trailer, Dr Zayne says something like 'We have no choice but to destroy this place" so my guess is that there is another big Metaflux anomaly like in Mt Eternal but this time in a place where there is a lot of ppl and due to being exposed to it, they're turning into Wanderers, something that Zayne as a Doctor can't cure: "Aren't you a Doctor. You should've save me!"

In fact, this is something he can only cure as Dawnbreaker:

I'm really interested to know who was the guy who asked Zayne to kill him. My guesses are:

William (and this probably a flashback).

Carter

Greyson (most unlikely since the voice didn't mach but goshh could you imagine the angst if it was him??)

So if there is another Metaflux anomaly it means that there's a Protofield that got out of hand and it probably was in either Akso Hospital or Xander Sciences company cause they had a special patient that accoring to what they say in the trailer, had a fragil heart that would've stopped long ago.

If I'm not mistaken (and since I'm currently sleepy and feeling lazy) in the World Underneath anecdotes Carter and Xander Sciences tried to keep some patients alive or to revive them using protocores and keeping him in pods but it didn't work? However, long before these anecdotes were released, we knew that there were already organizations doing research about immortality:

It seems that 'A special energy field' is necesary in order to reach better conditions to regenerate the human heart. What if this 'special energy field' is something similar to a Protofield? If we remember correctly, in both Rafayel and Xavier's myths MC's heart was necessary for them to live immortal lifes? In Rafayel's case, she seemed to give ppl some kind of energy? But at the same time she couldn't leave their city neither. In Xavier's case, her heart was like an unending source of energy for Philos core and they wanted to feed Philos core with her so they would stop to sending humans and then Philos core would stop crearing wanderers.

In both cases, it seems that MC is the source of energy of a Protofield that both gives it enough quantities of energy to keep it balanced and making ppl within this field to be immortal (like her) without the risk of becoming wanderers. In Rafayel's myth, she was already the source of this field, so there are actually no wanderers in this myth. In Xavier's myth, she wasn't the source of it so they were creating wanderers bc of it.

What if in this case, Xander Sciences discovers that the key to reach immortality lies in creating a Protofield with enough energy to create the needed conditions to regenerate human hearts for indefinite amount of time and that the KEY to achieve this lies in MC's aether core??

What if what Zayne is trying to protect here is MC's heart so they won't use her to reach immortality, EVEN if he knows that this most likely will avoid tons of deaths and will stop the creation of wanderers and ALSO will avoid his future as Dawnbreaker but even so he chooses to save her, just like he did as Foreseer and Master of Fate.

And lastly, he mentions "When that day comes... When I can't wake up" my only guesses are:

His nightmare of becoming "The Grim Reaper" will become true.

By destroying the Protofield that is creating the anomaly, he also freezes himself?

Maybe he steals part of MC's power or even he takes the creatio protocore he gave to her as Foreseer and uses it on himself so instead of using her as the source of energy for this Protofield, he offers himself as this unending source of energy? (This one is quite wild and seems unlikely to happen but I still wanted to mention it ahaha).

Anyway these are all my thoughts for now. Please take this with a grain of salt, since these are only silly theories and nothing official. We'll have to wait some days more to discover the truth.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Pleaaaaaase give me and all of us ALL the lore I would love it 🥹

Yay!!! Let me try and go in order of events?

Actual essay below the cut

Lilith! So, in this universe, there is obviously no deal with Xaden to keep Vi "safe" in the rider's quadrant, but Lilith sends her anyway because she still thinks Vi will be safer in the quadrant than in the scribes, venin-wise. Because of this (in the quadrant with no Xaden) a few things happen! Vi's generally MORE aware of the venin adjacent issues, she's less confident with her lightning, and when it becomes clear to Lilith that Col. Aetos is after Violet, she knows she has to figure something new out.

The storm! The storm is Lilith's doing. @k2jk and I chatted about this briefly, and they summed it up pretty well in that Lilith starts the storm to try and delay Vi from reaching Athebyne entirely, but when that fails, she adapts and overcomes (if you will) and decides to use the storm to keep Vi in the cave with Xaden. Obviously, she doesn't have the deal in this universe, but she knows Xaden, at the very least, cares about the venin problem, as she suspects Vi will too. Also, Vi had THREE dragons, so she was fine, battle-wise. I think in canon Lilith is out of town (LOL) when war games happen, but in this specific universe where (again) Vi doesn't have X looking out for her, I think Lilith would be a lot more hands-on (in her very Lilith way). Also, Lilith clearly has a thing with like, storms at times other people would not want a storm. Seems her love language is just ruining people's day!

Xaddy! So Em and I (@maethologies) captured the Xaden lore in this as instead of being a child of divorce as he is in canon, he is instead a child of PLEASE get a divorce!! I don't know what the math is precisely, but canonically, Fen Riorson had to have been pretty young when he had Xaden, because Sgaeyl is AROUND fifty, I believe. This led me to conclude that his mom would be pretty young too? So there's that part of things, and then add in the fact that their marriage/betrothal/sex pact was contractual and not out of love, and that Fen HAD to be a pretty hard core guy in regards to his commitment to the revolution, and I think we have a nice recipe for some issues! Amy @skyfallscotland's original prompt was that either the Tyrrish Rebellion never happened, or it happened differently, and I decided to take the happened differently route of things. And when considering how things could have happened differently, my first thought for a variable we actually know about was Xaden's mom. So, I made her Poromish (which I think she is, I just think she's hiding in the Isles in canon). Basically, the idea there is that she left when he was ten, but she did come back, and she was pretty in and out of his life. She's not queen, because his parents aren't married (afaik) but she's...around? sometimes? But, her presence in Tyrrendor was able to get Poromiel to throw some extra troops/weapons/money/ whatever who knows at the Rebellion, which helped the Rebellion win. Another thing Em and I talk about that is relevant to this fic is that we both see Fen/unnamed woman who is Xaden's mom as a mirror of xaden/cat, or what xaden/cat would have become, sans Vi. To ME, this means they were pretty toxic, fought a lot in front of Xaden, general manipulation what have you. If we ever get Xaden's mother's first name I will probably succumb to my demons and write a full prequel fic, but that day is not today!

Xaddy part 2! I said this elsewhere, but Xaden's gryphon gift is basically his second signet! That's how he cheats at rock paper scissors (what a guy!!) and that's how he repeatedly reads her mind throughout the fic. Vi doesn't seem to know about gryphon fliers having mind work gifts in canon until X tells her, so I assumed she wouldn't know. Also, like, of course he bonds Sgaeyl eventually. Of course. Not to @ Amy twice in one post, but I think of it as VERY similar to Keep Quiet in that it's like, we know this guy. We know his destiny. We Know. So yes, he bonds Sgaeyl EVENTUALLY, but not on page. I have an idea, actually, but I don't want anyone else asking me to write a continuation of this AU, so I don't want to say it publicly just yet, LOL.

I think that 's it for now? If there's anything else lore-wise anyone else was wondering about, feel free to ask!!

[withloveoptimus]

Ask by @musicalmedli : How about a human he secretly likes doing something that unknowingly means bettothal in Cybertronian culture and it freaks her out. can be sfw or nsfw, your choice.

had some difficulties posting this the first time and unfortunately lost the ask but here it is now !

i had lots of fun writing this and i hope y'all enjoy !

TFP Optimus x Female reader

Summary: Reader accidentally proposes to Optimus and, after a quick talk with Ratchet, she promptly freaks out.

Warnings: none

sfw , fluff , misunderstanding , miscommunication , pre relationship , cultural differences

Optimus had begun to act weird around you, and you weren't entirely sure why. He was more affectionate with you, whether it was simply holding you in his palm or sending you smiles that he wouldn't share with anyone else. It made you swoon, of course, but also a little curious.

Wanting to return said affection, you bought him a gift with the bit of money you scavenged together. You'd gotten him a few books from the local bookstore that the two of you frequented. It was a cute little store and the lady that owned it was so sweet, she happily indulged Optimus' curiosity whenever they were there.

Although you didn't have to, you wrote him a little note as well, writing the kind little thoughts down and thanking him.

When you'd presented the gifts to Optimus, he was happy. His face brightened up like when you present a kid with candy, and you fought the impulsive thought to kiss him.

He promptly thanked you with a warm smile on his face.

That's when things began to spiral.

Optimus' affections were much more frequent and whenever he would speak to you, whether it was in the comfort of your house (he liked to help around and use his holoform even though you insist he doesn't need to) or when you're out for patrol, his tone is fond and warm. That's not unusual for him to do but it felt odd. It's like those few moments when you're talking to a crush or lover.

That thought made your face hot and you quickly tossed it away. That wasn't it; there was no way he would talk to you in that way.

When you bring it up to Ratchet, Optimus' closest friend, he has an unreadable look on his face before swiftly recovering.

"Do you know about Conjunx Endureas or Conjunx Ritus?" The medic asks you, looking uncomfortably serious.

The lost look on your face was enough of an answer and he ex-vents. According to Cybertronian culture, you learn that you had accidentally proposed to Optimus fucking Prime.

What a shocker.

You promptly left before Ratchet could tell you anymore, deciding to head home for the day and process the information. One day of being home turned into an entire week. You avoided going to the base like the plague, only answering texts from the kids while ignoring Optimus' worried texts and calls.

You were a full-grown adult, yet here you were, doing what you only saw in those cliche romance movies you watched when you were bored. It was wrong and totally stupid, but you could care less.

You loved the Autobot leader, that was a fact, and the simple implication that those feelings would be returned made your heart beat faster. Marriage, though, was a huge step to take and you two weren't even dating yet!

A conversation would need to be had eventually but for now, you'd rather process everything at a distance.

One day, upon returning from work, you see Optimus' alt mode parked in your driveway and dread pulls in your stomach. You knew it was coming but you just weren't prepared.

Hesitantly, you enter your house and find Optimus' holoform in your living room, sitting patiently on the couch. He had a serious look on his face, and it made you want to curl into a ball. Before you're able to say anything, he stands and walks over to you.

You gulp, biting your lip, as he stops just a short distance from you.

He tilts his head down and you realize that the serious look he had was actually... shame?

"I... I apologize, it seems that I misunderstood the intentions behind your gift." He speaks and his gaze suddenly elsewhere. There's a hint of embarrassment in his tone. "I hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable in any way."

The note; he was talking about the note.

"Oh, Optimus, I-" You start but he cuts you off.

"If you wish to stop talking to me, I understand." Then he goes, rambling about you and his feelings, all the while you try to stop him because you don't want to stop talking to him or anything of the sort. The conversations you two have are the highlights of your day and you love just being around him. You don't get the chance to do so because he just won't stop talking.

So, you went on your tippy toes and shut him up the only way you knew how.

The kiss is sweet and, a little awkward, as you hadn’t kissed anybody before. Optimus stood stock still for a few moments, eyes wide as he processes what exactly was happening. Then, his hands are on your hips and he’s reciprocating the kiss. A warmth spreads throughout your body and your mind becomes hazy, any thought passing through your mind were only of him as he surrounds you. You press yourself closer, savoring every second that passes.

When your lungs finally begin to demand oxygen, you pull away with a breathless gasp.

“So,” you murmured, “we obviously need to have a conversation.”

Optimus huffs, amused, “We do.”

A few beats of silence pass and you’re able to properly breathe.

“Where shall we start, then?” Optimus inquires, tracing his fingers along your hips.

“We’ll start slow, like dating slow.”

“Understood.” He smiles, warm and affectionate, “May I take you out for dinner?”

Your cheeks flush and you bite your lip, “Of course.” Everything he does is making you swoon and it’s the best feeling in the world. Just what did you do to get someone like him?

He ghosts his lips along yours, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whisper, allowing him to kiss you breathlessly.

[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them Part 2/3

Part 1 || Part 3

Pairings: Four, Hyrule, & Warrior x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

A surprise attack - that's what had awaited the group. They had their guards only slightly down, still keeping an ear for danger, yet that didn't do much to protect them from the onslaught of monsters who soon surrounded everybody faster than anyone could draw their swords.

It wasn't a huge deal at first, at least for ten seasoned heroes. They've been in troubling situations before, both during their own journeys and when together, so they all know how this sort of thing works, in fact some were even having fun with it, making a competition out of how many enemies they could each take down. Then everything went south - fast, too.

That troublesome lizard the Chain has been tracking for weeks - or has it been months now? - appeared without a sound onto the battlefield, going successfully unnoticed amongst the chaos as he creeped through the shadows waiting for an opportunity to strike. Everyone had gotten pretty spread out from each other, pushed apart by their enemies not that they took the time to notice nor worry. This meant the lizard could've realistically chosen anyone as his victim, it was dumb luck that his eyes landed upon Four who was finally beginning to break a sweat as he tried to one-up a Moblin.

Maybe a second passed between that Moblin disappearing into purple smoke and a blur entering his vision. All Four knew for certain was that he just barely blocked the lizard's sword which had been swung his way with such force that it knocked him off his feet. He's been knocked down before, though, and planned to fight without hesitation until -

"- GET AWAY FROM HIM!" It was you. Four didn't even realize you were so close and before he could object, you were engaged in your own little battle with that lizard, successfully drawing its attention away from your downed friend, however your efforts were not without cost. 

You got hurt. Bad, too (although Four would say any injury is horrid if felt upon your skin). You were thrown to the ground just like he had, the difference being you weren't as fortunate as to block the lizard's sword, rather taking a direct hit which sent you crumbling to your knees. Any other day, Four would've been amazed by your determination when you still tried to stand your ground with a wobble, but it was no time to be in awe of your skill. He doesn't doubt that if it wasn't for Warrior and Twilight taking on the lizard next, you wouldn't have won that battle you so desperately fought.

Now Four feels as if his breath is caught in his throat while he stands by, helplessly watching as Hyrule heals you. You're in better spirits than he thinks you should be, awake and alert, but winching in hissed breaths whenever moving too quickly. He can't help feeling responsible for this, cursing himself for not having seen that lizard earlier. If he had, he would've been able to hold his own ground better, giving you no reason as to rush in so suddenly. Of course, you have a different outlook on the situation:

"I hope you aren't kicking yourself too hard over there, Smithy," It's like you can read his mind - or perhaps you can just read his facial expression. You raise an eyebrow at him almost teasingly as if your tunic isn't stained in your own blood, "I was the one who decided to jump in, you didn't ask me to - and I'd do it again if it means you're safe, just so you know."

Four huffs from where he sits mere inches away from you. Simply happy to see you alive, he didn't have time to care about the fact that he’s been holding your hand nonstop since first getting you out of the fray which had been a good ten minutes ago, "Shouldn't I be the one saying that, not the other way around? What is this, the second time you've saved my butt?"

"I don't think you almost falling off a stool counts," You argue, but after a moment of thought, you give his hand a squeeze, your voice a bashful whisper, "...And who says we can't both say it, hmm? Both be willingly to protect each other with our lives?"

"Because then it would be contradictory - If I'm willing to die for you and you're willing to die for me, then we'd both die" 

"At least we'll still be together.”

Four frowns, but to your surprise, he proposes no argument. He instead nods eventually, squeezing your hand back as he looks off across camp in silent thought, “...I guess that’s logical. I’d just prefer we stay together in life, though.”

"You guys are sappy as hell."

"Shut up Legend."

You've had a well deserved afternoon of peace - at least the best you can probably wish for given the circumstances. You don't necessarily have a lot of scented soaps on hand or even access to a proper bath for that matter, and despite being near a town, you’ve been rationing your rupees since it’s slim pickings collecting them from only monster drops and those clay pots everyone fights over. Still, you did manage to sneak away from all the boys for some time alone, soaking in one of the nice little hot springs found around Death Mountain.

Still patting your hair with your now damp towel, you wander back into camp with dreams of a pleasant meal to finish your day with, after all this is Wild's universe, so you would think he'd know the area well enough to bless you all with something wonderful made from nearby resources. With this said, you're pretty surprised when your nose scrunches up in disgust upon a disastrous smell filling your nostrils. 

It doesn't take long to notice the source, having to push through a few bodies to discover what everyone is glaring at: a pot of bubbling soup of a color you hadn't realized could even exist...and a texture you wish you didn't know existed.

"What happened?" You whisper to Legend who's closest to you. He shrugs as if this sight isn't all that bad, although you're certain he's already thought of some excuse that can get him out of eating tonight.

"Hyrule messed with Wild's cooking again."

"How? Wild's been watching him like a hawk since the last time."

"He wasn't here. He came down to the shops to get some things and when we all walked back together, we found the food like this."

Oh yeah. You remember now. Having overlooked an ingredient for his soup, Wild decided to run down to Goron Town where the others had already gone for a quick supply run and to question locals about weird portals. Soon after he left, the Traveler promised to watch over camp while you went to check out the hot springs as you’ve been dying to do. During your excitement, it failed to cross your mind that he’d be left unattended with Wild’s half-finished food.

"What did you add?" Wild has a hand on his hip, the other holding a ladle that's pointed directly towards Hyrule's chest accusingly as the poor boy sinks into himself, trying to stumble out a response. 

This is far from the first time he’s messed with cooking despite everyone agreeing he should be banned from so much as touching a spoon, yet you can’t help feeling bad for the hero regardless of his bad habit in not keeping his curiosity under control. Hyrule did help you today. If it wasn’t for his kind offer to watch over camp on his own, you would’ve had to put off visiting the hot springs until the others camp back, drastically lowering your chances of being able to sneak away for some alone time. 

“I’m the one messed with the soup,” All eyes are suddenly on you, not a single one looking convinced, but you continue anyways, “You said that you thought it needed ‘a little something more’, so I figured I’d try to help with that. I didn’t expect my additions to cause such -...mildly repulsive results…I’m sorry, Wild. I’ll remake dinner tonight if you want.”

Wild narrows his eyes, humming in thought for a good few seconds before announcing, “I don’t believe you! But…”

He then turns on his heel, dramatically dipping his ladle into the soup. The quote-on-quote ‘liquid’ doesn’t drip back into the pot once he brings up a ladle-full, instead sticking to the utensil before flopping into the soup with a heavy ‘splash’, “...I might be able to fix it if I add more broth - but this is the last warning I’m going to give: the next time anyone tampers with my cooking, I’ll only be making food with a jar of goron spice added in from then on, you hear?!”

Everyone is quick to agree, although Hyrule shows some brief hesitation until you elbow him roughly in the side. At that point, he eagerly nods, giving Wild a little piece of mind as he tries to figure out how to fix this dinner ‘you’ve’ so cruelly ruined.

“...Thank you for that,” Hyrule whispers to you, bashfully joining you beside fire as you lean back and shrug casually, “I really owe you this time.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. I already owed you for allowing me a nice break,” You nod your head towards the path that leads to the hot springs before peeking open an eye and glaring at him, your voice suddenly stern which sends shivers down his spine, “But seriously, dude, do. not. touch. Wild’s cooking again. Forced to eat meals laced with goron spice is where I draw the line in my love towards you.”

“N-Noted.”

No matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut, all Warrior can see among the darkness is stars that seem to glow brighter whenever another wave of pain shoots through his nervous system. He'd like to say he's had worse, although this is truly in his top five - maybe even top three. He can't adjust his body without grinding his teeth, yet he tries anyways, digging the end of his sword into the ground and using it as support to get himself up, but each inch he moves is agony to his battered body.

The moblin - if he remembers correctly, it's from Sky's universe - follows the bloody trail that had been left behind after it had previously tossed Warrior, stalking closer to the downed hero who can only curse his luck. Of course something like this happens on his turn to patrol. He shouted for help not long ago, although given the distance he's gone from camp, it's fairly possible no one heard. Even with the moblin raising its spear, he finds himself more concerned with the others than himself, praying to Hylia they don't get ambushed like he had -

"- HEY! OVER HERE YOU OVERGROWN PIG!" The moblin pauses, forced to turn its entire body to see where the voice had come from. This allows Warrior to see around it, spotting you running towards them with your sword drawn. He might've been relieved at this point if not for quickly noticing the fact that you're completely alone.

"N-NO! Don -...DON'T!" Warrior tries his best to stand up and reach for his sword, however he immediately crumbles onto his knees, hissing in pain as his free hand hurries to cover his wounded side. 

You don't listen, although you most likely didn't even hear him, too busy going face-to-face with the moblin. It reacts to your charge by holding its shield out in front of itself, yet you take no issue in running right up it, stepping onto the top edge which you use to kick yourself into the air over the moblin's head. You successfully catch yourself on your feet behind and, before it can recover from this surprise, you attack, hitting the monster as many times as you can manage. 

It cries out and angrily swipes its spear towards you (while Warrior holds his breath in worry), but even then you're faster, swiftly leaping out of harm's way and slicing its side in return. The moblin huffs, raising its spear to throw, however it stalls, eyes rolling back into its head before blood loss finally overcomes it, causing it to crash into the ground with a loud 'THUD'.

"Warrior!" You take no time celebrating your victory, hurrying to your friend where you fall to your knees and immediately begin looking over his injuries. His tunic is soaked in crimson at this point particularly around his side, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact damage. You curse yourself for not having gotten here sooner even though you truly did run as quickly as your feet could carry you after hearing his distressed shouts for aid. Thank Hylia you happened to have been foraging not too far away. If you had stayed in camp with the others, you would've surely lost a beloved member of your group.

"Here. Stay still," You order, reaching into your pocket and uncorking a bottle you kept there. A pink glow is free to flutter out and to your friend, practically dancing over his wounds in careful work that brings instant comfort shown through his sigh.

"...Why'd you do that?" Warrior wonders aloud, earning a confused look from you.

"Would you rather me have dragged you back to camp for Hyrule -?"

"- I mean why did you take on that moblin like that? Alone no less."

You huff, taking offense despite knowing full well that he isn't insulting your skill. He’s just terrible at wording stuff (all Links are), "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to steal your thunder there. I was only thinking it would be better to save your dumb butt than to take my time personally gathering an army to collect your corpse afterwards.”

Warrior clicks his tongue, forcing his eyes away from you, "...I'm thankful, don't get me wrong, but it was still incredibly stupid...You could've gotten just as hurt as me..."

"Hypocrite," You huff under your breath, although he still hears and pouts as a result. Gently, you take his chin, directing him to face you again, "I get that you're a captain and all, thus you feel responsible for protecting others, but there's nothing wrong with admitting defeat and trusting someone else to take charge if necessary. Your ego isn't worth your life, after all, I’ll only mourn one of the two.”

Warrior blushes, trying to look anywhere except your eyes, yet you refuse to let him do so, too amused by his adorable embarrassment to let go of his chin right away.

"I...I suppose you're right."

"I always am."

"...I'll be sure to remember that from here on out."

[luna-rainbow]

idk if you've seen that post, it's from years ago at this point, where someone is surprised to hear that Bucky has a disability. i think it's in an ask with a response like HE'S MISSING AN ARM. remembering that left me thinking,,, what are your thoughts on Bucky's own comprehension of his disability? like, i'm sure he experiences chronic pain, and he's aware of his disability *especially once he has a metal arm that can be detatched as we see in tfatws* but i also feel like he might feel guilty taking the title of disabled because he has the serum and is "super" plus he doesn't feel like he deserves the support/help that can and should be given to disabled people when they need it. ALSO he hasn't had all that much time to process as a human rather than a controlled weapon that he is missing an arm. his prosthetic has been welded into him,, with probably less sensation,, but it functions like an arm,, idk i just feel like it probably hits him out of the blue, too 🥲

Oooh thanks for the interesting ask nonnie! And yes I do remember that hilarious post.

Here's my usual disclaimer that this is just throwing out ideas and that canon lends itself to many different interpretations.

I think the first thing to consider is Bucky's relationship with disability as a concept. He was good friends with Steve, a chronically ill person, but sometimes people have a different bias when it comes to invisible illness versus visible body difference. I have seen people, including disabled people, who are more accepting of one type than the other. He had grown up during a time when disability was considered a "defect" and there was talk of eliminating them from the gene pool, so there might be some inherent fear of being seen as "disabled". At the same time, he had also fought through one of the bloodiest wars of human history but also post the antibiotic era, which means a lot of major injuries became survivable compared to WW1. He likely saw many people around him become physically marked in one way or another. I have a feeling that that experience would have reconciled him with the fact that the value of life is greater than physical wholeness. So overall, I think Bucky probably had a fairly accepting view on disability and illness back when he was able-bodied, and while he needs time to process the loss, that acceptance is probably somewhat protective against self-hatred.

The second thing is the curious subject of Bucky's bionic arm. I have met (lower limb) amputees who reject the "disabled" label, because to them once they put on a prosthesis they could walk and run and work and exercise. I think worrying about being "deserving" might be a small part of it, there's a bigger part of worrying about social perceptions of disability -- they didn't want the "handicap" label to be used to hold them back. I suspect you are right, in that Bucky probably sees himself as very capable, even super-humanly so, with the (very high-tech) prosthesis. He most likely feels that being a soldier is a big part of his identity and sense of worth. I suspect also...going back to what Bucky's relationship with the word "disability" means, his interpretation of that (given he came from the 1940s) might mean something that has a profound impact on function, and he may feel that he doesn't fit that mark.

The third thing is Bucky's relationship with body image, which has varied from movie to movie. The Winter Soldier had no qualms flaunting that arm, but then the Winter Soldier had no mind of its own, and its handlers knew the metal arm was intimidating. In both Civil War and TFATWS, we see Bucky wear gloves and long sleeves to hide his arm, which he removes when he starts a mission. It could be that he doesn't want to scare people or draw attention to it day to day, or it could be that he associates the arm with the soldier part of himself and he doesn't want to see it when he's trying to return to a normal life. Interestingly, in Wakanda, Bucky had been quite content to walk around without any sort of prosthesis at all. This might suggest that he's less bothered by the missing arm than he is by the need to wear a weaponised prosthesis.

But you know, people are fickle creatures, and I am sure when he's hit by PTSD or a bout of anxiety or depression, his views on body image and his physical limitations would take a very nasty turn and he would have to work through all the stages of grief again.