#Promise!!

[snailspng]

PNG borders.

[starcurtain]

I love your post so much I love how everything is backed by evidence. I wanted to ask for your opinions on ratio and aventurine's relationship (relationship in general, not necessarily in a romantic sense).

My mind keeps goes back to Aventurine and "Aventurine"'s conversation about Ratio's fake betrayal part of the plan and Aventurine says "Or maybe he wasn't acting at all?". I just keep thinking about how even though Ratio did exactly what he was supposed to do to help the plan succeed, Aventurine can't help but doubt the motives of the person that he's working with even when he does exactly what will benefit his plan. I've just been thinking that maybe it's another part of Aventurine where he can't completely trust anyone. I've seen a lot of post where people state that they had a great deal of trust in each other and that's why the plan succeeded but ignore what that line means for how Aventurine might've felt about it.

And then on Ratio's side of this, I do think he cares about Aventurine's well being but only does what he can to help him because if he tried to force Aventurine to be better, to treat himself better, it wouldn't really change Aventurine's mind on his self if it's for someone else's sake instead of his own. The little flavor text of Ratio's sticker in 2.3 mentioned how he's "just doing what a supporting character should do." which is, supporting the main character I'd think. Ratio does genuinely care for humanity so I can't think the only reason he sticks around Aventurine is "because he makes an interesting conversation partner than most."

I just can't stop thinking about how they're undoubtedly connected for another reason besides just their work, and I am just so curious about what the writers have in mind for their cooperation in the future. sorry for my trash heap ✌️ if this is too incomprehensible I understand not answering it

Okay, the full answer to this ask is over here in a separate post, since I thought it might stretch people's dashes a bit if I didn't, BUT before we get to that, there is one little thing I wanted to say and don't have room for in the other post:

You mention: Aventurine says "Or maybe he wasn't acting at all?" I just keep thinking about how even though Ratio did exactly what he was supposed to do to help the plan succeed, Aventurine can't help but doubt the motives of the person that he's working with even when he does exactly what will benefit his plan.

And while I agree that Aventurine has TRUST ISSUES stamped on his forehead, I also think that a lot of people kind of gloss over one major aspect of the scenes between Aventure and "Future" Aventurine, which is that:

Aventurine spends most of those scenes convinced he's actually talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power.

Aventurine starts off suggesting the "Future" Aventurine is a dream or psychotic hallucination.

He rejects the idea that "Future" Aventurine is actually himself at all, and asserts that this "Future" figure is a "newborn of the Harmony's power." He even has a throwaway line asking if he's about to become an Emanator of the Harmony himself. (And the Ena-Gaiathra fans rejoiced.)

Normally I would say that's all there is to this, Aventurine just not wanting to accept this ghostly version of himself and the harsh truths it keeps bringing to light.

But, throughout the entire lead up to the end of 2.1, we get weird moments where the "Future" Aventurine asks for information it should already have. A lot of these are passed off as "Well, I just want to hear you say it yourself!" but... if it's truly Aventurine himself and knows all there is to know about him, why does it need to hear the info from the real Aventurine?

Why do we continually get exchanges that strongly call into question what the "Future" Aventurine even knows?

And:

Later:

(Shouldn't it have already known?)

Repeatedly, the "Future" Aventurine says things that imply it is still learning about the real Aventurine:

Even up their very last scene together, the "Future" Aventurine was constantly pressing the real Aventurine to reveal every detail of his plan:

"Future" Aventurine goes through the cornerstone shuffle, guesses at Ratio's involvement, pushes Aventurine to reveal the broken Aventurine cornerstone, asks what tactics Aventurine intends to use to win his gamble, how the IPC fits into all of this, and finally comes to the realization that Aventurine plans to use Acheron to create "death."

We could go very deep with this and suggest all these weird "Did you or did you not know this information? Are you really me or not?" exchanges are just meant to show Aventurine's doubting nature, that his mind is a mess and that he doesn't, even at his deepest, understand himself, but I don't think the devs did this accidentally. We're being given plausible deniability on purpose.

At the very least, we players are supposed to ask ourselves: Could it be that this really is the Harmony and not Aventurine himself?

Until the very last scene, when "Future" Aventurine completely changes his tune to gentle empathy, real Aventurine is definitely convinced that he's still talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power.

Right after the line about Ratio's betrayal supposedly being real or not, Aventurine is still saying:

Or, an even clearer indicator that real Aventurine was convinced he was talking to Sunday's manipulations: The "Future" Aventurine is listed as ??? in the dialogue option all the way to the very end, when Aventurine at last accepts that he may be speaking to himself, and the name card finally changes to "Aventurine."

So, what to make of this line then:

Personally, I think there's enough dubiousness to the whole situation to suggest that we can't really take this line at face value.

Is Aventurine genuinely doubting Ratio here... or, convinced that he's still talking to the Harmony, is Aventurine scrambling to try to keep the last details of their plan out of Sunday's reach?

If after this line he's still telling "Future" Aventurine to stop stealing information from his mind, can we really expect him to be speaking truth here?

Throughout all of these scenes with "Future" Aventurine, real Aventurine continually refuses to reveal new details about his plot, forcing "Future" Aventurine to fill in the gaps. It's clear from other lines throughout the theme park scenes that Aventurine is intentionally avoiding giving away any specifics that the "Future" doesn't already know:

So to me, even though I agree that Aventurine has been made into a distrustful person by his traumatic experiences and I think he does doubt the sincerity of everyone around him...

I don't necessarily think this one line about Ratio should be held up as an example of that deep doubt.

I think there's enough suspicion cast on the "Future" Aventurine and its possible connections to the power of the Harmony that many of the things Aventurine says to it might actually be attempts to mislead and distract, so that he can carry his final gamble through without Family intervention.

And I think looking at this line about Ratio from that mindset also introduces an entirely different possibility many people seem to overlook:

Is it out of character for Aventurine to make sure the only person sacrificed in his gambles is himself?

If Aventurine really thought he was talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power, could it be that saying "Maybe Ratio wasn't acting! Maybe he really did betray me!"... wasn't doubt, but an attempt to protect his co-conspirator? To shift the blame away from Ratio and spare him from the fallout if their plan ultimately went awry? To make himself the Family's only target?

I'M JUST SAYIN'!!

Anyway, totally go read the rest of the actual answer about Aventurine and Ratio's relationship now~! It's all posted!

[luckypunklemonade]

You're Losing Me [Pt. 1 of 3]

| {Read pt. 2 & 3 on AO3; Link in title and pinned post :) } Stiles gets possessed by the Nogitsune. [Established relationship; mild whump; happy ending] Stiles Stilinski (Void Stiles)

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

I tucked my hands underneath my forearms. My fingers were colder than usual, not jarring in any way, though a thought I lingered on. It’s a welcomed abeyance to the keen chill reminding me that I was exactly where I was—an uncomfortable notice of Stiles, or rather Void’s, presence. I still found myself reminded of the distinction. Of course, the dark undereye bags and lowered, vain gaze made it glaringly obvious. It wasn’t exactly Stiles, though I refrained from staring at him, or it, for too long. 

             Mrs. McCall shifted, my eyes subconsciously following her small movements. It seems we’ve all been a little apprehensive lately. Melissa already worked odd hours at the hospital, taking off here and there to tend to Stiles when she could. Scott and I helped when she couldn’t. It was unnerving, sitting in a room with Stiles Stilinski while the room remained quiet. Even more so when we knew he’d have the answers, beyond the words to fix this situation. We all knew it. It took something out of us at some point to realize that.

          Now, I stand uncomfortably in the hallway before the two other people directly involved. Scott and Melissa share my facial expression. I realize how alike their faces are when they’re concerned, and so damn tired. I avoid reading into it, something I’ve had to do a lot lately. Mr. Stilinski’s concerned and curt nods when I told him he shouldn’t visit his son, my mom’s face scrunching when she sees how beat down I appear, even when I smile, and the increasing intervals between visits to Stiles from Scott. I realized people around us were dropping like flies, falling victim to the Nogitsune’s harsh tongue and backlog of provoking secrets he just seemed to have. It seems that Melissa and I have the most resolve so far, though it’s not anything I feel confident bragging about. 

              I look back at Melissa, her eyes aimed through the door at Stiles’ sitting figure, still as ever. Instead of asking how long it’s been since we’ve talked to Stiles in the flesh, what’s running through their minds, or the other trillion thoughts circling my mind like vultures, I sigh and try to translate what I can to them. 

“Do you guys think it’s even possible that we can get him back?”

                 I can tell it’s a sore spot, but something they’ve considered regardless. Especially Melissa. As a mother and nurse, she has no choice but to think of every outcome and to keep pushing regardless. I know for a fact, under normal circumstances, she’d never put her son’s best friend who could almost be another son to her into such a removed category. It’s not something I could ever see her agreeing to, and it’s not something I’d ever ask her to. 

                   Scott looks down, reactions muted as the new normal for him. I don’t push him, nor do I push the question. They just look at me, sigh, and return their line of sight to the ground. My eyes follow Melissa’s to the back of Stiles’ head. I try not to think about the bubbling emotion I experience when I watch the slender shoulders of my boyfriend rise and fall calmly as if I could walk in there now and ask him where he’s been. As if I could sit next to him and he’d smile and say “There you are.”

                     My eyes strain to meet Melissa’s. I suppose seconds ago, she’d shifted to see my internal struggle flash in my eyes. I struggle to make my expression anything but pleading to her. It’s just not rational. She knows as much about this as I do. With the amount of anxiety-inducing, ancient articles, and disintegrating books I’ve read, she probably knows less. It’s unreasonable to look at her like this, to silently ask for reassurance when she must be struggling herself, but I do nevertheless. She only responds with the same loving frown she’s no doubt accustomed to giving patients. 

“It’s getting really hard.” I successfully dodge a voice break with a sharp swallow, dulling the ache in my throat. “It’s getting hard to find him again.” 

                I will not cry. Melissa knows that. It’s assuredly a creed she holds herself to as well. She knew I wanted to break down, I knew she did, too. After a while of silent observation, I began to notice Melissa and I were quite alike. We both have made a sort of silent pact to keep the show running. To be the glue. Not to shed a tear until we hear Stiles attempt an Irish accent again or try to explain why Scott and I should take Pre-Calc with him. It made it worse to wish for it. It’s like we were getting farther and farther from it with every audacious smirk he flashes - something that used to be so endearing coming from him. I suck in a breath.

“God, it sucks, huh? Every conclusion we make, every path we go down gets lit up in flames. How many times have we run this course?” I ask this more as a way to exhale my thoughts.

               They stay silent. Like always, but I can’t blame them. It’s real, too real. I realize I'm getting selfish, asking them to complain alongside me. To be a pillar to lean against, knowing full well I could take the entire morale down. What little is left of it, anyway. Knowing better than to add to the negativity, I clear my throat, raising my eyebrows, reminding myself not to change the atmosphere too quickly. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna get a little more done tonight. Then, I’ll head home I think.” 

I don’t wait for an answer, just a small pause and a neutral smile before heading back towards our makeshift headquarters.

                Melissa and Scott stay outside, probably talking. Probably exchanging a comfort and understanding I’d kill to be a part of right now. That’s not my place, though. I can’t insert myself into their lives more than I already have. I scold myself for being so brash and emotional with them when I know the last thing they need is more hopeless rambles. I almost have to psych myself up to enter the room but refuse to, grasping what little choices I have here. This whole thing has felt too open. No answers and a million possibilities. 

            That’s very likely why my breath catches when I step into the room, past the door, only to see Stiles- No, Void looking right at me. He was docile but his eyes tracked every moving figure with malice, breathing slowly through his nose over the duct tape on his mouth. When Void saw me, his eyes changed. Not in a menacing way; he seemed like he’d been expecting me at that moment. Like I’d fulfilled his prophecy. I went straight to the desk by the couch, setting my bag down. Somewhere in the way his eyes changed throughout my visits and how I’d dodged the manipulation time and time again, I stopped trying to talk to Stiles. I’d just sit and do my research. I knew Void saw the bags under my eyes get darker and my hands get shakier, the close-lipped smiles I gave to the people around me got less and less genuine. I wouldn’t admit it, but he was starting to scare me beyond the worry I already housed deep in my chest. 

             I saw his eyes narrow and his head tilt ever so slightly and I didn’t look away. The raging uneasiness he’d always kicked up began to settle. A sadness stays suspended, though still. I know better. When I don’t look away, he takes it as a challenge. I knew he would, but I was so tired of getting nowhere. The tape on his mouth is loose, it allows him to talk. I’m just so captivated by the spark of intrigue in his eyes that I let him. I only register the shock that his voice elicits after he blinks. It’s a very familiar voice, I don’t know what I was expecting. After losing Stiles beneath Void, I guess I anticipated a change. 

“You’re not stupid, are you?” He manages to replicate Stiles’ distinct rasp. I’m not sure that it’s a replication at all. His words are muffled. It’s admittedly awkward with the loosened tape still stuck to his cheek. I stay silent, taking mental notes while he takes the cue to continue.

“Can always see the gears turning. You’re a lot of things.” 

Silence rumbles through me for a few moments as I study him. Trying for anything other than direct and confrontational eye contact. I feel dread accumulating in the pit of my stomach invasively, taking up all room. When he speaks again, my mind has already been made up to shudder.

“But you’re not what I thought you’d be.” It hits, but he doesn’t let it soak in. “I mean, really? You claim to love me, but you saw the symptoms. You did nothing. How can you say you love someone you can’t tell is dying?” He almost smiles.

             When I stand, it’s swift. If I hadn’t had a mission to stop his words, I’d have surely felt dizzy. I quickly smooth the tape back over his mouth. His eyes narrow pridefully, knowing he’d planted the seed of doubt. He knew enough about me to know I’d foster it myself. I turned and bit my nails, sat before my computer, the repository for our research into the situation and the beginnings of what would be a weeks-long research bender that would run me physically and mentally into the ground.

         The realization of what I’m truly losing, what I’ve lost, enters my head so explosively that my sense of hearing dulls. The thought I may have to give up, I may have to lose my best friend and boyfriend, that I may have to ask his closest friend and mentors to…it guts me. I get up, the feelings and thoughts following suit as I stand by the door. Melissa and Scott are working silently in the room across from this one. Likely on other things, as this couldn’t affect their lives on the outside. They see me standing by the door, zoned out. Melissa keeps an eye on me, I know, but I don’t look at her directly yet. 

       I look back towards Stiles, finally seeing a sort of malice in his face. The sort of hate uncharacteristic of Stiles. It made the realization that I was losing him more opaque. I want to beg him to look away. I want to warn him, “This is serious, you’re losing me.” I am torn between that selfishness. How could he see me and not realize what he was doing? I wish he could fight his way out. That, in some way, he’d be stronger. I knew it wasn’t logical. Just like how silently turning to Melissa, eyebrows knitted together in a pained plea, wasn’t logical. I did it anyway. Frustration overtook me. Nothing was fair anymore, nothing was right. I had spent so much time treating the figure on the couch with caution and care, all for seemingly nothing. If it was all going to get worse, why would I even try?

            I turn away from both sets of eyes to think. No one can help me, us. No one has the answers, it’s wrong to expect them. Should I give up and save myself the grief of having my boyfriend look at me so hatefully, or save whatever lies in the haze of the future? Just having to decide angers me. It sends a hopeless sigh through my gritted teeth. Having the care sucked out of me every day hurts, but would withdrawing it altogether be much worse? 

     It strikes me then just how tired I’ve become. I had no idea if my mind was clearly articulating my emotions, just that I had something to feel. It was overwhelming how appealing it was to sit down on the floor, legs spread out in front of me, head lulled against the wall, eyes falling shut. Recently, sleep has been more of a minimum requirement. The fact that I saw it fit to forget the mess that I’ve become alongside my friends was almost tempting. 

       When I glance back at Stiles, his face remains the same as the last time I looked. Hostile and unimpressed, it wasn’t discrete. It sent another sigh from me, more frustrated. It was a never-ending uphill battle as of late. I looked at him, deciding to ask the touchy questions, to try his patience. If an option is to give up, everything else must be an option, too. 

“How long can we do this for?” I turn to face Void with my arms crossed. I realize Melissa and Scott can hear my voice. However, they remain in the adjacent room. Stiles’ eyes stay on mine, although they’re not as intense. Seemingly distracted by my words, I continue letting my thoughts control the dialogue. 

“Until it’s too far gone. How long?” Allowing the words to flow impatiently, I get more passionate. I let the selfish thoughts free, not as if I would apologize anymore. I step forward, standing in front of the coffee table separating me from him. A barrier I used to feel suffocated our connection. A connection that no longer exists. “I have given you…everything- I mean, I’ve spent every ounce of empathy and hospitable emotion on you. The only thing I have left is anger.” 

     Spoken as if I was saying “ Do you understand me? How could you drive me to this cliff? ” He listened, all emotion drained. I felt relieved. As if I had lifted a crushing weight off of myself by distracting him from idle hate. “All I have done is work myself into the ground.” I have used up all the good-natured cadence I can muster. “I was here this whole time, bleeding and driving myself into ruin for you. All of us, fighting.” 

           It seems he’d realized I wanted something, something I couldn’t define or pin either. He’d gone borderline catatonic. He knew I’d never normally keep going, that the battle had been chosen for another day. I decided to choose this battle. He remained still and stared forward, silently implying pointed ignorance. 

“Fighting in your army that you created.” Frustrations overflowing, I slam my fist on the table, “ Don’t ignore me ! I am the only one left here for you.”

       This catches his attention. However, instead of the egotistical smirk I had already braced myself for, I found him searching my face. His eyebrows were just barely lowered in surprise. I had also warranted Melissa to yell my name, warning me. She was now in the doorway as I leaned back slowly, never once breaking eye contact. I was too close, too harsh for her taste, I note. 

“I wouldn’t even try anyway. For what? At this point, what would any of us be fighting for?” I see every person is silent, trying to decipher if I’m being rash or giving up, not liking either option.

I now address Void more directly, having gained his full attention. His confusion slightly faded, “Truthfully, I just wanted to be seen. That’s my problem, right? Too dependent on reassurance.” 

         I turn, glancing at Melissa, at Scott. How isolated this feels when I think about it. I let out a scoff. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought I was truly losing it laughing at the moment. Still not confident in that fact, I continue, “I’m just fading away. I’m grabbing onto nothing. I want to scream at you, mostly.” I shake my head. “I want to scream ‘Do something!’ ‘Say something!’ Y’know?” 

“I wanted to risk something so badly for you, and I did! I have sacrificed and chosen you over so much here!” My frustrations don’t anticipate a reaction,

“God, I wish I hadn’t.” I, unlike Void, let the room sit in this. 

“I wish I hadn’t because I didn’t sacrifice anything for you. I wish I didn’t have anything to prove, but I do and I hate you for it.” I take a single step away from him to ground myself.

I let the words speak, letting go of the anxiety, of how they’ll be interpreted. I didn’t hate Stiles.

          I let my voice lower just as it would before tears fell, “And I wish you could choose. I wish you could fight. But you won’t. Because you can’t.” After sucking in a breath, I took his reaction in. I knew he was processing, but he had realized something I had never strived to be described as. I was unpredictable. If only at that moment, I was unexpected. Out of the usual order, no thought went into the words I spoke as it usually would. He had no time to stop me before processing because I had not done so. I walk with purpose past Melissa, out of the door, and out of their sight.

[towost]

another dandys world oc of mine!!

meet tamir the tape measure, i got inspired by crumb mewhehe

[miyamoratsumuu]

hihi frannie :P

HIII ELLE HOW ARE YOUUU? I miss talking to you so so much, I'll make it up to you soon, promise!!

[gold-and-glyphs]

I'll get back to working on requests soon I'm just super exhausted from con!!

I had a lot of fun though! Bought some cool stuff, and meeting Blake Roman pretty much made my entire year 🫶

[tag-if]

hello! will there be an option to change the display mode from landscape to portrait for mobile?

ohhh i am very sorry, nonnie, that's actually a bug (ish)!

that's something that's supposed to be implemented already TwT

i promise with next update i will mess with the upload settings and make double sure that's available to you all

[coydog-grim]

Hiiiii!! If you're on Artfight and have any ghost/spirit characters, would you be interested in having them drawn as part of a mass attack??

I'm planning a spooky mass attack, and any characters fitting the bill will be welcomed! I'm attacking both Stardust and Seafoam! Please just add the ref and your username or a link~

This is my account, in case you want to check it out! Or not!

Thank you :] have a nice Artfight everyone

[venusandsaturnsrings]

will we ever get another taru bot ?

i have at least 10 asks wondering the same thing LMAO but rest assured!! i have a puptaru one in the works!! if there’s any other aus or types you lovely’s would like to see, let me know and i’ll consider it!! :3

[sugarsnappeases]

my fave part of writing essays is going to make tea and then bumping into my friend who’s also having an essay crisis and then feeling good about myself bc she’s written a lot less than me <3

[the-rookinator-3000]

smallll update yippee

hellooo guys!! ive disabled my askbox cuz ive kinda been rlly bothered by em lately.. uhhh for now i'll just keep this blog super duperly personal for now!

[techn0tony]

So! Um! Hi. Question ... is there anything in particular you guys would like to see from me?

I am totally not just finding an excuse to talk to people

[inbabylontheywept]

so once me and my wife were watching a documentary where a snake ate like a million eggs. that snake just went to fucking town on eggs. and the snake made the eggs look so good that i kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and thinking about it, and eventually it was 11pm and i ran out of willpower and decided to eat one (1) singular raw egg just to prove to myself that the snake was surely a liar.

the snake was not a liar. texture is like, super important to me and raw eggs are very Texture so i had another one, and then another one, and then another one, and eventually i ran out of eggs.

i had like, fifteen raw eggs.

i didnt really know how to explain this momentary madness to my wife, so my Plan was to put all the eggshells into a grocey bag, and then throw that grocery bag in the dumpster, and if she never noticed that would be Excellent and if she noticed immediately i could lie and say that the eggs went bad.

except i cant lie very good, and of course with murphys law being such, i got salmonella.

so i threw up a lot and my wife asked me what poisoned me so and i tried very hard to dodge the question but i was oozing shame like oil from a room temperature cheese and eventaully i gave in and told her everything and to her enormous credit she was more flabbergasted than actually upset. she did make me promise to not eat any more raw eggs, which i have stuck to, and she gives me weird looks during nature documentaries now as if desire was the only thing keeping me from eating thousands of pounds of krill anyway i made a joke earlier about being able to eat my age in eggs and my sister in law in law made a drawing to comemorate the moment and also because it was my birthday. she's excellent. thank you 10000000% @cintailed. you should all visit her page and admire her work.

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LESBIANS: 2x08 - “Killing is a Cycle”

[cronchy-baguette]

I promise