#ic‚ ratio.

[ofhope]

Sleep clung to him like an overbearing coat. Such didn't touch his eyes, his pinpoint gaze zeroed into the occupant of his couch: the answer? Obvious, if the click of his smartphone laying facedown wasn't too ginormous an indication. Restlessness painted itself a distracting portrait upon his muse, eyes wide, not flickering or lowered. There's a tsk in the air, less toward Aventurine, more toward his predicament.

“It was hardly noticeable until moments ago,” not a lie, but a cold truth - Veritas was so submerged in his own sleep, he hadn't felt the tug of the sheets as Aventurine made to his feet, to paddle along to the living room. “I rolled over. You weren't there.”

Dismay was poignant in his tone. Veritas wasn't always forthright with his affections, but the implication was there: once I noticed, I couldn't return to sleep. Then Aventurine opened wide his embrace, and with a puff of air, Veritas wordlessly accepted the peace-offering. More-so on the couch than on Aventurine, chest-to-chest, knee on either hip, Veritas breathed a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.

“In venturing for the opposite, you achieved your feared result. Most times, stasis is better than running out into the battlefield. Given the sheer amount of blankets scattered about, this area isn't far off from such a scene. As you know, I've grown rather used to your presence... that, and it seems you need a reminder: I wear a sleep-mask to bed.”

Bringing his arm to snake around Aventurine's waist, he squished his cheek against the plane of his collarbone contently.

“Perhaps it would do you well to pick out the next living room arrangement. Of course, it won't be without my critiques.”

@souldanced, <3

[soursoppi]

Who gets dibs on the chicken wing?

[itsredpaint]

based on a conversation

[oyasumiya]

ice breaker

[arom-antix]

Me? Posting finished art? Ain't no way :O

No but @korruptbrekker reached out to me and asked if I was interested in doing a collab (go check out their piece here, I implore you), and you know I could not say no to such a wonderful artist asking lil ol me to do something fun like this. We ended up doing a swap @laugaheim and I came up with ages ago that I so sussinctly refer to as a moodboard-sketch-lineart-render swap. Rolls right off the tongue, right? Nah but it's exactly what it says. Make moodboards, swap and sketch from the other's, swap again and line the other's sketch, and then swap once again and finish the piece you sketched.

Very big thanks to Brekker for reaching out! This was so fun, I hope we can do something together again in the future!

[mspaintbladie]

i think being level 20 and unbuilt won't stop my yanqing from trying to fight blade,,

[not-poignant]

wait okay so now that you're seriously thinking of publishing, will you be writing a new prequel to game theory with the new 'Canon'? like the story as it's meant to have happened between gwyn, augus, terho and the nightingale, or are we just starting from game theory?

ALSO I'm so glad that you might be publishing the ftv soon for wholly selfish reasons -- you're clearly done writing about these characters, but personally I am nowhere near done reading about them, and I'm definitely not creative enough to write fanfiction myself either, so I'm just stuck rotating the characters inside my head like a microwave😭😭 it's really tough out here!!!

imagine the massive wave of new readers and the new community that's gonna come in once the story's more accessible... IT'S SO EXCITING

Hi anon!

No prequel, I'll be starting with Game Theory (and Deeper into the Woods will be published afterwards as a prequel, just as it was chronologically in general!)

Quite a bit of Game Theory is being edited and new content being added (anyone on the Gary & Efnisien tier can already see about 2,000 words of new content in the first three chapters alone, including new scene/s with Crielle), and some content being removed where it's OOC. The events with Terho and the Nightingale will be explained in Game Theory, with Gwyn likely meeting with Terho (or learning about him) a few times within.

As for Fae Tales, you know, it's nice to think there will be some new readers, and there might be like a handful or two, but there will be no massive wave. It is the least popular thing I've written in proportion to the amount of time I've put into it. Even the AUs have all generally done better proportionately.

It's one of the reasons I've never rushed to publish, honestly. It's a lot of work to put into something that you know will never financially justify itself. To the point where I think other projects are far more viable financially (Underline the Rainbow as a series I actually think would be great, because new, meaty omegaverse has a very intense (though small) fanbase and I think that series would bring more people in).

There would be no massive wave of new readers. I think we'd be lucky to see at most about 10 or 20 new folks, and I'll cherish everyone, but I'm also pretty realistic. More people find all my other works these days than Fae Tales, The Ice Plague is still one of the worst performing things I've written in proportion to length + time + work investment (despite being one of my favourite series out of anything I've written).

I think I'm realistic, and I also think there's a chance that the Fae Tales Verse if published could draw some haters. Most people don't want that level of BDSM in their epic fantasy, unless it's much lighter 'romantasy,' which Fae Tales definitely isn't. There's even a chance I might get my KDP author account suspended because of breaching content TOS/violations.

So yeah, it's a risk, but I'll take it. It's just not a risk I'm prioritising right now, because I can't see a way that the Fae Tales Verse will ever really go that far. Hand on heart, way more people who come over from my fanfiction find Falling Falling Stars and Underline and almost no one (with maybe a few exceptions - I love y'all) goes into the canon these days unless they're older / long-time readers.

[footballandshit]

Kylian Mbappé | 26 February 2023

Olympique de Marseille vs Paris Saint-Germain F.C.

[silverstarfics]

I have no excuse for why I made this I just thought it was funny. Anyway, introducing:

TAG Characters as Random Messages @astranite & I Have Sent To Each Other

Scott:

John:

Virgil

Gordon:

Alan:

Kayo:

Penelope:

Parker:

Brains:

EOS:

I promise I didn’t forget Grandma it’s just that Tumblr has its dumb 10 photos per post limit anyway her quote was going to be ‘we have displeased the rain gods’

[everlastiingiimmortals]

@reversescale asked: (What would it be like if Ratio got the acknowledgment of Nous? Would anything change? Furthermore, what if he was invited into the Genius Society? Would he accept it?)

Sleepless nights had grown more frequent as of late, with the addition of the Divergent Universe to Ratio's workload. None of it had been obligatory, none of it at all. But, not for the first time, he finds himself strung up in a strange sense of restlessness -- almost anxiousness -- as he parses through the compendium he compiled, again and again and again.

...Why?

Not even Screwllum, with his far superior ability to take in information on a page, would read through this entire document, and he'd told the Trailblazer this himself. Realistically, the likelihood of even half of the data within making it into the Divergent Universe was slim at best. It would take an entire Amber Era to even get through all of the pages. So why did he?

...Not for the first time, the thought crosses Ratio's mind about how disproportionate his visible effort is to his declaration of involvement. Yet how could he settle for anything less? Screwllum, surely, knew he would receive more than he asked for by enlisting Ratio's aid. The doctor was never known for half-assing anything, after all. And still, it was not enough. He hadn't done enough, compiled enough, found enough of the evidence Screwllum he needed.

It is not his project.

He sighs, rubs his temple (his headaches seem as though they're growing worse with the sheer amount of data he'd been sifting through lately), and rolls the tension out of his neck as best he can. There is no need to get worked up. Thankfully, the sky is clear tonight; he'd already taken a bath recently, so laying on the grass to trace the constellations would surely be enough to quell his mind.

But the red glow outside indicates otherwise. A glance upwards is more than enough to rob all the breath from Ratio's lungs, leaving him choking on nothing. All at once his head expands, compressed by the confines of his skull -- it shrinks to nothingness then expands once more, splitting and breaking down his skull to encompass the planet, the galaxy, reaching to the outer stretches of the universe -- who he was and what he is no longer matter, Veritas is as much an ephemeral, minute, pitifully small concept as Andreas -- he knows so much. He knows too much. And as that thought concludes a new one is born, a new path stretching outwards -- everything and every life that will ever come to be and has come to pass is known to him, but not by him, far more than he could ever fill a book with, or ten books, or a thousand books -- lives and people and worlds flash past his mind, too fast for him to take hold of and look at any single one -- there is simply no storage system in the known universe large enough to record it all -- he is ignorant in the wake of the mind and might of THEM, and he feels so strangely detached from the muted despair he vaguely acknowledges is his own and suddenly he is slingshotted back into his body, gasping for air and gripping onto his windowsill so hard his knuckles turn white.

"You..." Andreas' knees threaten to buckle as another pulse of pain lances through his skull. Something hard and cold clinks against his palm as he clenches his hands into fists. A divine, shimmering key lays nestled between his fingers, only tangible in the barest definition of the word. Should he look away, should he let it wane from his mind, the key would fade, too. It takes all his effort to keep his hold on it. "You," he repeats, mouth dry, mustering up all the willpower and strength he has to glare at the impossibly massive entity that had manifested in the sky. He is shaking, trembling from head to foot. "After all these years... after all this time, now you show yourself?" He can feel the absence of that sudden pressure of knowledge like an abyss separating his brain from his head, and his heart beats too quickly, too loudly, too softly in his own ears. Every second is a fight to remain in his own mind, and it feels like mockery of his own insignifance, or perhaps a test -- but the Aeon does not respond to him. THEY do not do anything but simply wait, and stare back at him.

It becomes unbearable to hold Nous' gaze, and as Andreas looks away the key slips from his grasp. He realizes, then, Nous did not come for the boy who spent his nights looking to the sky. Nous came for Veritas. THEY will only respond to Veritas.

"Keep your key," Andreas spits around a closing throat. Veritas will not speak. "I want nothing to do with your Temple. I have no place with the likes of Kuwabara or the Lord of Silence."

Nous holds THEIR silence, and THEIR gaze, for a moment longer, then fades. The oppressive noise lifts and Andreas feels himself fill the space his body takes up and only that and he can breathe, finally, and his lungs expand and contract with every breath as a human's should. He feels all ten fingers and toes and the wind on his skin and he is, once more, unremarkably and inconsequentially human. Except...

An invitation to the Genius Society is not something that can be refused. It is not a request, nor an inquiry, nor some offer that can be turned down.

It is a claim.

So No. 85 of the Genius Society requests a temporary leave of absence from the Intelligentsia Guild. He visits his hometown. He tells his parents the news. His father, quiet as ever, beams with pride. His mother weeps, not only with joy, but for the sudden shock of sheer white that has woven itself into his hair. (How strange -- he is only 38, but this fails to bother him in the slightest.) He visits Herta's Space Station once more, and the eyes on him are different; numerous as always, yes, full of awe, certainly, but full of ignorant admiration, worse than he'd ever experienced before. He feels those eyes even through his headpiece. He is to be the newest member of the Simulated Universe project. Screwllum introduces him properly to Herta, Ruan Mei, and Stephen, and he can't help feeling slightly sick as they look into his eyes with recognition. Stephen isn't there in person, but he shakes the puppet's hand, then Ruan Mei's. They're both cold. The sensation doesn't leave for hours. Screwllum's hand on his back, meant to be reassuring, makes him want to remove his skin instead.

He lays in his bathtub for hours upon his return home, half-drowned in steam and bubbles until his skin prunes and his bathwater cools to a temperature he can scarcely feel. He should get out; he will get cold.

He doesn't know what to say to Aventurine. If he should say something to Aventurine. Given the speed of the IPC's news network, Aventurine probably already knows. The next time he meets Aventurine, he will no longer be a Mundanite. He, realistically, has no need for Aventurine any longer. But Aventurine -- the IPC -- has all the more need for him. His value has fundamentally increased. The unfairness of it makes him sick. Eventually, he resigns from his job as a professor. There is no point in a genius teaching that intelligence does not belong only to the elite. The irony behind it is nothing but cruel.

Occasionally, the Key of Wisdom surfaces in his mind; it appears on his desk, under his pillow, beside his chisel.

He refuses to touch it.

He is unable to let it go.

[witheredgardenparty]

Has anyone talked about how each member of the Genius Society represents the over reliance on the belief of intelligence but not the act of intelligence?

[ofhope]

@souldanced sent in...

❝  Five hours without you was excruciating. Let’s never part ways for that long again. How I’ve missed your warmth, your softness, your comfort… ❞ Face nestled on a certain someone’s chest, he lovingly traces circles on skin. Suddenly Aventurine startles, glancing upward, visibly surprised. ❝  Veritas! There you are! How long have you been there? Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop? ❞ He jests. Sort of.

Aventurine illustrated affection in a myriad of ways. Drowning one in gifts (response triggered by trauma; an intense fear of abandonment and thus urge to make one's self appear useful... even if Veritas didn't hurt for cash), actions (another trauma response: less detail needed), and lastly: selfcare. Not in regards to Veritas himself, however Aventurine oft ran him a bath, cozied his bed prior to nighttime, or allowed him serenity to complete a highly anticipated page in his book (in terms of discovering more holes for Veritas to poke in theories, anyway).

This was one of the ways not brought about by unfortunate circumstances, or littered here and there in a history of pain. This one was unique to Aventurine, and frankly, he was no stranger to perversion around ... this specific area. Veritas was thankful he forwent his usual robe for dressing in a hurried manner, for reasons he could only believe the Aeons gifted him foresight on. Had he not, his wish of another book accomplished would've been dashed long before it took off.

“Excuse me?”

Referring to his chest as a separate entity was a new one, though.

“My apologies; it's difficult not to eavesdrop when it's your ear being bent to listen.”

For all his tenacity, a shiver rippled down his spine.

“Damned gambler. Couldn't you warm up your hands before thrusting them upon me?”

Still inclined to finish his book however aware that, once set in place, Aventurine's seal was unbreakable... thus, thrusting his book into Aventurine's unsuspecting chest (a mirrored image Veritas believed amusing), Veritas bent, braced his forearms 'round the crooks of Aventurine's knees, and lifted up, up, up.

“If you're so intent on busying yourself, might I suggest a place to sit instead? Where we both can focus on what's truly important to one another.”

On this day, Veritas Ratio learned he wasn't number one in Aventurine's heart. Rather, what's in front of his heart was.

[starbursttide]

getting back into hsr so i wanted to draw some of my favorite guys :]

[gemkun]

i see now , this is all an elaborate plan to provoke some reaction. by losing the 50/50 in this gacha he attempts to coax out that . . . similar sensation that was elicited on “ keeping up with star rail “. but no , there will be no succumbing to this charade. why would there be any need for a response when there had been no intention of attaining him from the start ? fare — thee — well , gambler.

[iiryoku]

Aven is just flopping into Ratio's lap: hey there, handsome. You come here often?

Oh, the temptation to shove him off was itching at the tips of his fingers. However, due to his desk being so close, with important papers upon it, which he didn't desire to get scattered all over his floor, Ratio merely eyed him with a stoic, and rather, unimpressed expression.

❝ You're in my office, so I see that being a question waste of my breath, Gambler. Are you simply here to try and distract me from important matters or do you actually have something worthwhile that you wish to talk about- Also. Get. Up. ❞

[footballandshit]

Gabriel Jesus and Granit Xhaka | Inside Training