#like at least it would have been unique!!

[aventurineswife]

hello~ I was hoping I could make a teensy (hopefully it stays teensy request XP) Dan Heng, Aventurine, Dr Ratio, Jing yuan, Jiaoqiu and AE!Sunday with a s/o or spouse who gets cold very easily but they remain quiet and dont complain abt it out loud to avoid being a bother XPc 🍮♠

Unspoken Warmth

Summary: Your partner notices your quiet endurance of the cold and offers warmth in their unique way, despite your reluctance to show weakness.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Dr. Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Quiet Intimacy, Cold Weather Care, Protective Characters, Emotional Support, Silent Love, Soft Moments

You never complained about the cold. Not once. The chill of the wind outside the Astral Express had crept into your bones, and while most would have found the drop in temperature unbearable, you kept your discomfort to yourself. Dan Heng, however, was not one to miss the subtle shiver that ran through your body as you sat near the windows, gazing out into the vast, starry void.

He had noticed it before. How you would curl into yourself just a little tighter when the cold crept in, how you would sit with your shoulders drawn in, silently enduring the icy air without a single word of complaint. It wasn’t like you to ask for anything—Dan Heng knew that much. He respected it, perhaps more than you realized.

But that didn’t mean he was blind to it.

One evening, as the train hummed steadily through the vastness of space, he sat beside you, his sharp gaze flicking over the space around you. It had gotten colder, the sort of bite in the air that left no room for doubt. Yet you remained still, your posture ever so slight in your discomfort.

Without saying anything, he stood up and moved toward the cabin's storage. You heard the faint rustle of fabric, and then he returned, holding a thick, dark cloak draped over his arm.

“This should help,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, as he carefully wrapped the cloak around your shoulders.

The warmth that radiated from the fabric immediately enveloped you, a small relief from the chill that had been gnawing at your skin. You opened your mouth to thank him but caught yourself. He was already back in his seat, his spear resting against the wall beside him. His demeanor hadn't shifted—stoic, calm, as always.

But then, you noticed the subtle change in his expression. His gaze, soft yet insistent, met yours for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t pity, but understanding. You weren’t the only one who carried silent burdens.

“I’ve got your back,” he added quietly, as though reading your thoughts.

And you knew, without needing to say a word, that he would always be there, silently offering warmth when you least expected it.

The cold had arrived swiftly, settling in with the smooth precision of a well-played hand in a game of cards. But unlike the calculated nature of your partner, this sudden chill seemed to have caught you off guard. Your body shivered slightly as the evening air settled over Aventurine’s apartment, the cold creeping into your bones.

You didn’t complain. You never did. Despite the discomfort of your quiet shivers, you simply curled your arms around yourself, hoping the warmth of your own body would be enough to stave off the cold.

But Aventurine—always observant, always attuned to the smallest details—had noticed. His sharp eyes flicked toward you, noting the way you hugged your arms tighter to your chest. He did not ask, he did not speak aloud, but within moments, you felt his presence beside you.

He draped his coat over your shoulders, the fur lining warm against your skin. You blinked in surprise, raising your head to meet his amused, yet tender, smile.

“Never thought I’d see someone like you let the cold win,” he teased gently, though his tone carried no malice.

You couldn’t help but smile in return, though you still said nothing. Aventurine’s smile deepened, as if he understood your reluctance to voice your discomfort.

“Stay warm, my dear.” he whispered, his hand brushing your hair back with a softness that felt almost too tender for the flamboyant strategist.

As he moved to sit down beside you, his cloak still wrapped around your shoulders, you leaned into him, letting the warmth from both his coat and his presence soothe the cold. No words were needed. With Aventurine, you had learned that sometimes, silence was the most profound way to express affection.

The cold was biting, a stark contrast to the usual warmth of the laboratory. You hadn’t said a word about it, of course. You never did. Your pride was too strong, your desire to not be a burden too ingrained in you. But that didn’t stop the creeping chill from seeping into your skin.

Ratio, ever perceptive despite his sharp and often dismissive nature, had noticed the subtle way your shoulders hunched as you worked alongside him. The shivering that danced along your arms hadn’t escaped his sharp eyes.

He did not comment. There was no question in his tone when he moved from the desk to the shelves, his fingers brushing over vials and medical instruments with precise ease. He returned a moment later with a heated compress, offering it to you without so much as a word.

“Place it here.” he instructed, gesturing to your hands.

You blinked at him, surprise momentarily breaking your usual calm demeanor. You hadn’t expected him to notice, much less to care.

Ratio’s eyes met yours—intense, unwavering, yet there was a flicker of something softer behind them. A quiet acknowledgment of your discomfort.

“It’s not weakness,” he added in a rare moment of tenderness. “Sometimes, even the strongest need a little help.”

You didn’t need to speak, but you gave him a small, grateful nod, the warmth from the compress beginning to seep into your body, making the cold feel a little less sharp.

It had become a routine. The cold would set in, and you would remain silent about it. You never asked for his attention, never begged for warmth, but Jing Yuan—calm, calculating, always two steps ahead—had noticed.

The evening had grown cold, and though you tried to remain composed, Jing Yuan’s sharp eyes caught the subtle way you tucked your arms around yourself, the faint shiver that ran through your form.

He didn’t speak a word at first, content to observe from a distance as you tried to maintain your stoic composure. But after a few moments, he stood, slowly walking toward you with the same deliberate pace he always maintained, his golden eyes softening with a quiet understanding.

Without asking, he wrapped a thick blanket around you, his hands brushing over your shoulders as he adjusted it for maximum comfort. His actions were practical, yet there was a gentleness in his touch that spoke volumes.

“You should have said something,” he murmured quietly, his voice carrying no reproach, only a subtle note of care.

You offered a faint smile, though you still didn’t speak, content to let the warmth of the blanket and his presence surround you. Jing Yuan simply nodded, his gaze distant but kind.

“I’m here,” he added softly, his usual authority giving way to something more personal. “Next time, let me know if you’re cold.”

And with that, you knew—without a word—that he would always be there to offer warmth, whether spoken or unspoken.

The cold came as it often did, unannounced and relentless. You tried to ignore it, as you always did, curling up with your thoughts and your work, pretending the biting chill didn’t bother you.

But Jiaoqiu, perceptive as always, saw through your act. His gentle eyes studied you from across the room as he prepared his alchemical concoctions, his hands steady and graceful. When he noticed the subtle tremble of your body, he moved toward you, his expression calm but his intent clear.

Without a word, he produced a thick, soft blanket from one of his cabinets and carefully draped it around your shoulders, ensuring you were warm but not overwhelmed.

“I know you don’t like to ask for help,” he said, his voice low and comforting, “but you don’t need to suffer in silence.”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hung between you. You hadn’t needed to say anything, yet Jiaoqiu knew exactly what you needed. The warmth from the blanket and his thoughtful gesture melted some of the cold, but it was the warmth of his care that truly made the difference.

And for the first time that day, you let yourself relax, allowing Jiaoqiu’s presence to be the healing you didn’t know you needed.

The cold had always been a silent companion. You never complained about it. You never showed weakness. It wasn’t that you didn’t mind the chill—it was simply a matter of pride. You would endure it silently.

But Sunday, ever the observant leader, had noticed. He saw the way your movements became just a bit stiffer, how your usual calm demeanor seemed to falter as the temperature dropped.

One evening, as you stood near the window of your shared quarters aboard the Astral Express, lost in thought, he approached without a word. You felt the weight of his presence before you heard his soft voice.

“You should’ve said something,” he murmured, his words carrying the authority of a leader, but with the gentleness of someone who truly cared.

Before you could respond, Sunday wrapped his long, elegant coat around you, pulling you gently into his embrace. The warmth of his body, combined with the softness of the fabric, melted the chill in your bones.

“You are not a burden,” he whispered, the quiet conviction in his tone breaking through your usual restraint. “I would have done this sooner if you had let me.”

For the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide your discomfort. Sunday’s embrace, his warmth, was enough to make you forget the cold, not just around you, but inside as well.

[salemrph]

"A Hunter's Christmas Hustle" Sylus x MC

Summary: With Christmas around the corner, you’re on a mission to find the perfect gift for everyone, that's included Sylus, a famously tricky person to shop for. You asked for help but can the twins really help you? Sometimes the effort is the best part of the holiday magic.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: holiday comedy, slice-of-life, fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Miss Hunter.

| Word count: 3.916 | Reading Time: 16 min |

A/N: Since this is the first Christmas of Love and Deepspace, at least for me, I'm looking forward for a special Event and have a cute moment between Sylus and MC.

You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels a bit strange staying at Sylus’ place on your days off. Well, it was mostly his doing— he’d insist or come up with some random excuse or side mission to make you stay. So, at the end you agree to come visit him without needing to drag you in dirty business. It's cozy here, even if you’re not quite used to it yet.

Like always you scroll through your phone, noticing you getting a lot of Christmas ads. You squint at the screen, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the holiday promotions. Suddenly, you glance at the date on your phone. Fuck! Christmas in 1 week. And you haven’t prepared anything. Weren’t there also a Party coming up with the team? No, no, no! You go trough the calendar. There is it: 24 of December. Christmas Party with Team.

You need to go shopping, ordering stuff now would only arrive too late. 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to make a mental checklist. “I need a present for Tera, flowers for Grandma’s and Clab’s graves...” You pause, feeling a bit emotional at that thought. You take a deep breath and continue, making a list out loud.

“Then there’s Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel…” Your head starts spinning as you realize just how much you have to do. 

How could you forget? Have you really been that busy lately? It’s not like the whole city isn’t decked out in lights, giant Christmas ads, and festive music playing in every store. 

You realize with a sigh that maybe you’ve been spending way too much time in the N109 Zone, far from the holiday cheer.

“What can I get for the twins...?” you mumble to yourself. Luke and Kieran can be annoying sometimes, but you do like them. Why not bring them a small gift? Then again, you hesitate. If you get something for the twins, Sylus will definitely bother you about it until the end of your days, asking why he didn’t get anything. You're starting to sweat. Maybe he locks you up again in the basement, just for fun. Or worse, he could show up at the Hunters' Association and declare that you are his lover or something. A shiver runs down your spine. This man can be terrifying. 

You know very well how to please your friends and colleagues but Sylus… What do you bring to the man that has everything? 

“Why is he even so fucking rich?” you mutter under your breath, looking around the guest room. The guest room of course has the style of the rest of the mansion. Black. You roll your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration. You flop back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. You need something unique, something meaningful... but what could that be? 

You scroll through your phone frantically, searching for bundles, deals, and last-minute gift ideas. In just an hour, you’ve managed to check off most of your list.

Tera: A relaxing spa voucher—she could use a break.

Zayne: A pack of his favorite macarons, winter edition—he’ll love them.

Xavier: A cozy new sweater—you’ve told him a million times not to fall asleep everywhere. You sigh, picturing him dozing off on some random spot.

Rafayel: A unique shell you found on a mission weeks ago. You haven’t had a chance to give it to him yet, but now’s the perfect time.

Flowers: Ordered, check.

You tap your phone, thinking about the twins, Luke and Kieran. What would they like? You decide on some kind of gadget or toy—they’re like two overgrown kids sometimes, and they’ll appreciate anything they can mess around with.

Another hour passes, and you’re still glued to your phone, opening and closing tabs like a mad person. Your brain is starting to fog up from the overload of gift ideas.

“No... no... lame... oh god, definitely not.” You swipe through a blog about gifts for wealthy people and somehow end up on a page titled “Top 10 Gifts for Your Rich Boyfriend.” Your cheeks go bright red as you skim the list: sexy underwear, romantic getaways, candlelit dinners...

“NO!” You throw your phone onto the bed like it’s on fire, covering your face with your hands. What am I even doing?

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe you could ask Luke and Kieran for help. They’re close to Sylus and probably know more about his preferences than you do. Plus, he did say you could “use” them whenever you wanted. Why not use them as counselors and pack mules?

Since you don`t want Sylus sniffing around you, you think about a small lie. Or maybe just ask without giving information. The same way he always does 

...

"I need Luke & Kieran for an important mission, can you borrow me them?"

Sylus looks up from his desk, his red eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he regards you. 

"Mission? What are you planning, kitten?" Sylus raises an eyebrow at your words.

"Nothing… jus- they will come back in one piece."

He studies you for a moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He seems to be enjoying your vague and cryptic request, and he's clearly intrigued by what you might be up to. 

"…Alright. You can take them for whatever this 'important mission' is. But they better come back in one piece, or I'm holding you responsible, sweetie. And you don't want to pay the price...“ he snaps his fingers. Both appear immediately. As if they had been hiding in the office. 

"Luke, Kieran, the kitten needs you for a... mission. Do as they say. I expect impeccable work."

"Yes, boss!“ They say in unison.

"Let’s go, guys." I lead them out of the office. "See you, Sylus!"

That was easy. Maybe to easy.

He laughs after the door closes. Wondering how you're going to surprise him this time. He's learned to just go with the flow even though he might have the answer to your little secrets. He just smiled, turning back to focus on his paperwork.

“What are we going to do, miss?” Luke asks with a mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes. “I told you, just call me by my name.”

“Are we blowing something up?” Kieran blurts out, making an exaggerated explosion noise with his mouth.

“Or… cleaning up a messy murder scene?” Luke chimes in, smirking.

“Maybe torture someone!” Kieran’s eyes light up, clearly getting way too excited at the thought.

You sigh, regretting this decision already. They’re like two hyperactive hamsters—deadly, but still hamsters.

“No, no, and no!” you say firmly, waving your hands for emphasis.

“Uuuhhh...” They groan in unison, visibly disappointed.

“We have a better mission,” you declare, crossing your arms. “Change into something decent. We’re heading back to Lincoln City.”

Finally, you’ve arrived in the city. It’s strange seeing them without their usual uniforms and masks. Dressed in casual clothes, they look more like model college boys than the deadly assassins they actually are. Most of the girls passing by can’t help but glance their way, clearly debating whether they should approach the handsome twin brothers.

You snort to yourself. Probably they would’ve attracted less attention in their usual assassin gear.

You’re standing in the middle of the bustling shopping district, the holiday decorations casting a festive glow around you. Luke and Kieran are busy taking in the sights, clearly amused by the sudden change of scenery. You clear your throat to get their attention.

“Alright, listen up,” you say, trying to sound authoritative. “The mission is...” They lean in, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Shopping” you declare.

“Shopping?” they repeat in unison, voices filled with disbelief.

Luke looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while Kieran’s expression twists into mock horror.

“Wait, wait,” Kieran says, holding up a hand. “You dragged us all the way out here... for shopping?”

“Yes, and you’re going to help me,” you reply.

Luke smirks, giving you a playful nudge. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with us, Miss?”

You shoot him a glare. “Call me by my name, Luke.”

“Right, right,” he says, grinning.

“I actually need your help for...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Christmas is around the corner, and I wanted to buy Sylus something. I’m not sure what it should be, so...” 

Before you can finish, Luke and Kieran burst into giggle. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, clearly delighted by your admission.

“Oh, so you want to buy our boss a present, huh? That’s pretty cute” Luke teases, smirking.

Kieran nudges him with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “And you’re asking us for help? Luke, maybe she does have a soft spot for boss after all.”

You feel your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Are you two going to help me or not?”

Luke straightens up, placing a hand on his chest with a mock-serious expression. “If you’re serious about buying a gift for the boss, then you’ve definitely come to the right place. We don’t call ourselves his right-hand men for nothing.”

You exhale, feeling a bit relieved now that they seem genuinely eager to help. “I want something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, but that he’d actually like.”

Kieran tilts his head, pretending to think deeply. “Something unexpected, huh? Well, that’s tricky. Sylus pretty much has everything.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you say, feeling a bit helpless. “I was thinking about getting him some records, but he already has so many...”

Luke and Kieran nod in agreement, their expressions thoughtful. 

“It’s a good start. He does love his music. But you don’t want to give him something he already has, right?” Luke asked. 

“How about something more personal?” Kieran suggests, tapping his chin. “Something that shows you put a lot of thought into it. A gift only you could give him.”

You bite your lip, considering it. “Personal... but how?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Luke says, shrugging. “The boss isn’t as complicated as he looks. He’d appreciate anything that comes from you.”

Kieran gives a playful smirk. “You could just wrap yourself up with a bow, and he’d be over the moon.”

“Kieran!” you gasp, your cheeks turning red as you lightly smack his arm. He laughs, dodging away with a wink. 

Luke chuckles but gives you a more genuine smile. “He’s joking—mostly. But seriously, boss isn’t the kind of guy who cares about expensive gifts. He’d value something that reminds him of you, or a shared memory.”

You pause, mulling it over.

Kieran nudges Luke, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes. “Hey, what about that old record shop on the Avenue? They’ve got vintage records you can’t find anywhere else. You could look for a rare one, maybe something with a story behind it.”

Luke nods, his eyes brightening as well. “Yeah, and you could pair it with a handwritten note. Tell him why you picked it. He’d love that.”

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That’s... actually a great idea. Thanks, you two.”

Kieran gives you a thumbs-up. “No problem, but you owe us for this.”

Luke grins. “Yeah, and don’t forget to give us the credit when he’s showering you with kisses later.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

The twins laugh, and the three of you set off down the busy shopping street, feeling a new wave of excitement. Maybe this gift hunt wasn’t going to be so impossible after all.

In the end, you managed to buy everything for your friends—even for Captain Jenna, who isn’t exactly easy to shop for. But as you wandered through the record store, flipping through album after album, nothing stood out. Everything felt generic, impersonal. And you know Sylus well enough to realize that giving him something half-hearted would just fuel his endless teasing for weeks. 

By the end of the day, the twins delivered you at home after treating them for dinner. You're tired and leave all your bags in the living room of your apartment. You throw yourself down on the couch and take out your phone. Maybe you were overthinking this. A nice accessory or a bottle of whiskey could work—he has a taste for the finer things, after all. It wouldn’t be anything cheap, either; you can afford something like that with your Hunter salary.

The day passes, only 2 days for Christmas and you still have nothing. 

Desperate for ideas, you even tried bringing it up with Tera over lunch. That turned into a chaotic disaster, though. It was exhausting dodging her barrage of questions:

“Who’s the gift for? Why are you even so worried? Wait, do you have a new boyfriend? I demand to meet him!”

You had to laugh it off, making up half-baked excuses until she finally dropped it—though you could tell she didn’t believe you.

And then there was Sylus himself. Yesterday, he sent you an invitation to a Christmas dinner. You wanted to say yes, but you had already committed to the Hunters’ Association Christmas party that same night. You tried to decline, but after some back-and-forth, you reluctantly agreed to meet him afterward.

Now, sitting alone on the couch, you can’t help but replay that conversation in your mind. The way his voice softened when you said you couldn’t make it, the slight pause before he insisted on seeing you later anyway—it made your chest tighten. He sounded almost... disappointed. And that’s what makes you want to find something truly meaningful, something that will show him how much he means to you without you having to say it out loud.

You look at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. You’re running out of time. If you’re going to surprise him with something from the heart, you need to figure it out now.

With a new sense of determination, you push yourself off the couch and grab your coat. Maybe you won’t find the perfect gift sitting around here. It’s time to get back out there and keep looking, because if there’s one person you want to make smile this Christmas, it’s Sylus. But be honest, you´re not going to admit that. Not yet. 

...

It’s Christmas! The party with your unit is small but cozy. The space is filled with the warm glow of twinkling lights, the scent of spiced wine, and the sound of laughter echoing off the walls. You drink, you eat, and you feel a rare sense of contentment as you watch everyone enjoying the night. It’s moments like these that remind you why you love this chaotic, ragtag team.

The gifts you bought last minute seem to have gone over well. Captain Jenna grinned when she unwrapped the sleek new knife you picked out for her—a practical gift, just like she’d like it. Xavier looked genuinely pleased with the soft, oversized sweater you chose, already pulling it on and joking about how he wouldn’t fall asleep everywhere now. Tera hugged you tight, eyes sparkling as she held up the spa voucher. “You really do know me,” she said with a teasing smile.

Earlier in the morning, you made a quick stop by the hospital to drop off the bag of special winter-edition macarons for Zayne. And you place the flower on the graveyard. Pray for them and wishing that you could spent one more day with them.

You glance at your watch. It’s getting late, and you promised Sylus you’d meet him after this. You take a deep breath, excusing yourself quietly from the party. Tera shoots you a knowing look as you head for the door, but she doesn’t say anything—just gives you a little wave, as if to say, good luck. 

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, clutching the gift in your hand as you start walking. There’s a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside you.

Suddenly your watch vibrates urgently and flashes a warning: MetaFlux Fluctuation Detected. Your heart skips a beat. A Wanderer? Now?! You glance around, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The distant sound of a woman’s scream breaks the silence, and without hesitation, you sprint in the direction of the noise, already reaching for your weapon. 

The first Wanderer lunges out from the shadows, its distorted form shifting and writhing in the dim light. You don’t waste a second. One precise shot, and it disintegrates into a cloud of shimmering dust.

„My child! Where is he?“ the woman cries out, panic in her voice. You look around fast, this is not over. 

„Mom!! Help!“ You hear the voice of the kid nearby and run over. You bolt towards the sound, pushing your legs harder. You reach the boy just in time, shielding him with your body as another Wanderer lunges forward. The creature’s claws slice through the air, narrowly missing you. You fire three quick shots, each one hitting its mark. The Wanderer lets out a guttural screech before it vanishes into thin air, dissolving into the night.

"Are you okay?“ you ask, your voice softer now, concerned. The boy nodded. His mother rushes over, wrapping her arms around him and thanking you over and over, her voice thick with emotion.

The mother and child thank you from the bottom of their hearts before leaving. You tell them to please stop by the hospital, just in case. You wave goodbye to the boy. Sigh. What a night!

"Where's my bag?" you mutter, scanning the area. You spot it lying on the ground, right where you dropped it before sprinting into action. Relief floods through you—until you notice the dark, wet stain spreading across the fabric. 

"No, no, no! Please no," you whisper, crouching down and unzipping the bag with trembling hands. The bottle of whiskey you were hunting down the last two days. Is shattered in thousand pieces.

Your heart sinks. This wasn’t just any whiskey—it was a rare, vintage bottle from a small distillery he’d mentioned once, in passing, when he thought you weren’t listening.

„Fuck!" 

You stand up, clutching the soaked bag, and check the time on your watch.

22:30.

You’re supposed to meet Sylus in half an hour, and you’re still a good fifteen minutes away from his place. Panic bubbles up inside you. Maybe you can find a late-night shop that carries something similar. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.

"I can make it," you say aloud, more to convince yourself than anything.

…

You finally arrive at the meeting point—a lookout near the water. It’s the same place where you spent last winter with him, watching the fireworks together.

“Kitten, you told me you were at a party, not a battlefield. What happened?”

“Eh?”

You’ve been running around for the last 30 minutes trying to find that stupid bottle and make it on time to meet Sylus. A little embarrassed, you attempt to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. Your cheeks are flushed from the effort. Sylus stands there in his black coat, looking amazing as always. Your heart beats hard in your chest. He watches you, trying to piece together what happened, and then a smile tugs at his lips.

“Even on days like this, you don’t get a break, Miss Hunter?” He runs his hand gently across your face. You flinch slightly, wincing in pain. “You’ve got a small cut. So... are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, just a Wanderer. It will heal,” you say with a shrug. He sighs softly.

“Careless as usual.” He pulls a small band-aid from his pocket. “Stay still.”

“Why do you have something like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It so happens that I have a kitten who never pays attention to their injuries,” he teases.

You make an exaggerated offended grimace, but inside, it feels like a small gesture of affection. He places the band-aid gently over the cut.

“I’ll consider this your Christmas gift,” you joke.

He laughs. “Oh no, sweetie, that wouldn’t be enough. But I’m impressed with your minimalist idea of happiness.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope.

“You didn’t have...”

“Open it up. And thank me later.”

You take the envelope cautiously, slowly peeling it open. Could it explode? You shake your head at the silly thought. When you finally look inside, your eyes widen, and you let out a soft squeal of excitement.

“Are you for real? This tickets has been sold out for months. How did you…?”

“I have my ways, sweetie,” he replies with a smug smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

“It’s always a pleasure making you happy.”

But your excitement fades quickly as the realization sinks in. He’s managed to make you immensely happy again, while you stand here empty-handed. You have been looking for the perfect gift and you have screwed up at the last minute. On top, you haven't found a replacement for the bottle. 

"I wanted to give you something too for Christmas...“ you started. Closing the envelope and putting it in your pocket. "but... it broke while I was protecting a kid from a Wanderer.“ You look down at your feet, feeling small and pathetic, your shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Sylus gently lifts your chin with a finger, guiding your gaze back to him. He smiles, that soft, understanding smile that always makes you feel seen. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace. The chill of winter seems to disappear in his hold, replaced by the comforting heat of his body.

“The best gift is having you by my side, kitten.” he whispers into your ear, his voice low and sincere.

You feel your heart beating faster.

"Actions speak louder than words"

You agree with Sylus that both would be more honest with each other. Maybe now is the time to show him just how important he is to you. You spent so much time looking for something to buy that you forgot that the simplest gifts are often the most meaningful, especially when they come straight from the heart.

"Sylus… I actually have something else."

"Oh, is that so?“ 

„Can... I borrow your face?" He loosens his grip slightly and steps back, taking your hands in his, warming them up. He looks at you, amused and curious, and leans down.

"Close your eyes..." you whisper. He doesn’t say anything but does as you ask, his smile softening as he relaxes his face. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race, each beat echoing louder in your chest.

The world falls silent for a moment—it's just the two of you, suspended in time. The anticipation tingles through you as you lean closer, closing the distance between you.

You press your lips gently against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin against your lips is electric. It’s a simple kiss, but it carries all the unspoken words you couldn’t say out loud. A silent confession. You linger there for just a heartbeat longer, feeling him inhale sharply, as if caught off guard by the intimacy of it. As you pull back, the first snowflakes begin to fall, drifting slowly from the sky. The soft touch of snow melts against your skin, but Sylus holds you close, not letting the moment slip away.

„Now... that’s a present only you could have given me." He gives you the most tender smile. "Thank you."

He looks like he wants to say something else but remains silent. Instead, he pulls you into a deeper embrace, burying his face in your hair as the snow continues to fall softly around you. You’re more than fine with that. No, you’re happy—grateful for this sweet moment.

You realize you’re a step closer to falling for him completely, accepting that the connection between you two is stronger than you ever imagined.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“Merry Christmas, kitten.”

[vamphorica]

Because I hate being happy for more than two hours at a time, I've been considering to what extent Matt knew that Takada's kidnapping was a suicide mission.

I've been looking at this screenshot while I've been using it as a reference for a drawing and given that the poor boy is only designated sixty-nine seconds of screentime in the anime, I think it is interesting that there's a substantial pause on this specific frame. Matt is surrounded by Takada's bodyguards, unable to get out of the predicament he has found himself in. At this point, he believes there are two possible outcomes: he will either be arrested, or shot dead. You could interpret his expression here as apathetic, as that is how he tends to be characterised, but he sits in his car and looks out towards the row of headlights for about seven seconds. He considers his situation, acknowledging the number of men pointing their guns at him, and then he leaves his car.

The question is, did it occur to him then, or had he known beforehand, that his death was inevitable? Remember – Matt is one of a few characters in Death Note to be killed 'traditionally'. Should we take the Shinigami Eyes into consideration here, we have to assume that Matt is fated to die at this exact moment in time, regardless of circumstance. There is nothing that would have saved him from his demise that day.

However, I do wonder if, at nineteen years old, he is truly apathetic about his own life. I genuinely believe Mello sees his own death as an inevitable sacrifice, but I am not so convinced that Matt actually cares enough about defeating Kira to lay his life down for the cause alone. The manga suggests he leaves his car almost immediately upon being caught, and his final words, sadly, suggest a lack of foresight about the gravity of danger he is in.

Kira's world is not one in which justice prevails as Light envisioned, but rather it is an autocratic reign of terror. There is absolutely no chance in which Matt would be detained in a society in which death is considered the appropriate solution to crime. He is a Wammy's boy, but even if he had not have been associated with the House, Matt would have still been aware that his risk of death is heightened exponentially through his association with Mello alone.

In the anime, when Matt looks out the window of his car, we hear his inner monologue. Nonchalant, there is no fear to be heard in Drew Nelson's performance of the lines, and Matt's awareness of his impending death is presented as being limited. Is it an act? Or is Matt portrayed as lacking self awareness to such an extreme extent? Perhaps to 'justify' Matt's position as the third successor to L, Ohba felt the need to present Matt as ignoring the inevitable, but at least to me, this feels like it greatly undermines his intelligence. He may not be competing against Mello and Near, but that does not negate the fact he was still raised in the same institution that they were. All the children are freakishly smart, that is the whole point.

Did Mello propose the plan to kidnap Takada to Matt with the acknowledgement that they were both likely to be killed? Mello's final thoughts in the manga and anime are asking Matt for forgiveness, his death apparently unanticipated by the former, which feels like a failure in writing the deaths of these two in a manner that reflected who they were.

Matt is, by all accounts, a fandom project rather than a fully developed character within the Death Note canonical universe, but we are aware that Matt was created for Mello. I hardly expect Death Note to explore the intricacies of such themes in the series (particularly given, as much as I hate to admit it, Mello and Matt are not the main characters within the franchise). However, even with the rather minimal source material provided to us by both manga and anime, we are made aware that the two have a very unique relationship. They know each other intimately, and Matt does not fear Mello as many of the other characters in the series do.

Mello does not want Matt to die. He values Matt and while one could attribute the gratitude for him to the popular fan narrative that Matt is the one to look after Mello after the explosion, or indeed the idea that the two are in a relationship, their interactions with one another already set up their alliance as one that appears to transcend the regular boundaries of friendship. Again, I'm pulling a lot from fanon here, I know. Take it up with Ohba.

Narratively, if Mello has to die, so too does Matt. Ohba could not foresee this character that is so dependent on another to live beyond him. Yet I simply refuse to believe that Mello would have placed someone so important to him in a compromising position where the likelihood that he will be killed is almost certain. As much as I believe that Mello's final thoughts being directly addressed to the deceased Matt demonstrates an important ode to their relationship, I cannot understand how Mello would have been shocked to hear of Matt's death, given the risk.

We know Mello was fully aware that he was going to die that night. If he did not die, Near would have, and I think to Mello that would have been the greatest loss he could have suffered in their ongoing conflict. Regardless of whether you believe Mello cared about Near to any extent or not, I genuinely cannot imagine Mello would have been happy to succeed as L had it been attained through Near's 'sacrifice'. I am actually exploring an AU of this very idea in a fanfiction I intend to publish early next year, in case you're interested, haha.

This returns to the question as to when Matt realises he is not surviving this mission. Presumably Mello asked for his cooperation, and in doing so, he would have had to explain the plan to Matt which, quite frankly, reveals Mello's intent to die as soon as it is advantageous to do so. Given that Mello did not want Matt to be killed, did Mello reassure Matt that he had created the plan to guarantee his safety? Did Matt believe him? Was Mello deliberately vague, only telling Matt that he needed to set off the smoke gun, then hit the gas and get away from Takada's security team?

As far as I can tell, there is no reason as to why Mello would have been dishonest with Matt, explaining what he was planning to do and why. Perhaps he even suggested to Matt that he could find someone else to take on his position, given the danger he anticipated they would be in. Matt is, as I think the series makes clear, very loyal to Mello, and so I doubt such a proposal was even considered, but I think it is safe to assume that if Mello knew how this plan would end, so too would Matt, whether Mello explicitly told him or not. He would have figured it out.

When Matt and Mello part ways for the final time, not shown to us in either the manga or the anime, they both know that they are saying their last goodbye to one another. I think Mello hopes that Matt will survive somehow, experience a Kira-free world and move on with his life, but I believe Matt knows, well before he got caught, that there is no escape from the inevitability of his death.

Maybe, when he steps out of the car, confronted by the 'big guns', he holds out a little faith that at least he might see Mello again soon.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I just read this ask about skin care and i had a bit of a similar ask

What would bot think about eyes colors ? They only know yellow, red and blue ones, so when they see brown, black, green, heterochromia or grey ones (i do have grey eyes, it is a sign of a lack of melanin in your body (im the defenition of being white asf i can't go outside without sunscreen)), how would they react to that?

They would find it facinating.

Cybertronians come into being with many various optical lens colors. The coloration has very little to do with function or frame type when a bot is born naturally. Some say it connects to the color of the spark. Others swear up and down that optic color ties each mech to a Prime. The various religious cults across Cybertron used to herald specific colors as being more pure than the others. Science, however, dictates that optical lens coloration is completely randomized for mecha born of the Well of Allsparks. There is no divine reasoning behind it. The cold forged are a different story, that with most low caste bots being given red optical lenses in order to help them work better in low light areas. The Prime is also another similar case since every single Prime to have carried the Matrix has been recorded having blue optics. Most high caste bots chalked the low caste and the Prime's optical lens colorations always coming out the same as being Primus's divine ordainment of functionalism.

Both Optimus and Megatron shut such views down after they came into power in their respective factions.

With all that stated, I believe the bots would think eye colors are interesting, and maybe even a little worrying considering their own history. Seeing as humans can't pop out of the ground randomly, the bots look at their eye colors as a denotation of birth function, at least for the most part. Those with blue, grey, or green eyes tend to come from the colder regions of Earth, generally being of paler skin. As such, the bots tend to look at them as the flight frames of Earth due to the relative rarity of the colors and their nature as recessive genes. Flight frames on Cybertron were not particularly common after all. Brown eyed humans are seen as the grounders of Earth, being most common but often quite resourceful and hardy. The bots do recognize that in light of modernization, it is now difficult to decipher the 'frame type' of most humans, but they still take note on instinct.

The eyes of humans are fascinating, especially those with unusual colors. The ones with odd eyes are the triple changers, beastformers, and predacons of humanity. Rare in the extreme, but gifted in something unique. Humanity is an interesting race, and while the bots are well aware that humans don't technically have frame types like they do, the comparisons come anyway.

[dragonwysper]

Just finished Mouthwashing, after hearing all sorts of snippets of fandom drama about it. I'd stayed away from all that because I didn't have the context, but now I do! So I'm blasting you all with my thoughts.

Long post. Be prepared. Spoilers for Mouthwashing and CW for in-depth discussion of SA below.

So the biggest aspect of the drama side of the fandom that I've been seeing is how the game handled Anya's rape. Some people think it was devastating and properly showed the awfulness of Jimmy, and feel Anya's trauma was portrayed accurately and handled well. Others think Anya was somewhat one-dimensional; she was given a stereotypically female-specific trauma to match the different pain/traumas of the other crew members, and feel the subject wasn't given enough weight and respect.

After having played the game (while also going into it with the knowledge and expectation that it would be about SA), I can see both sides. Though I think my thoughts on everything come from some core details.

Firstly, the core theme of the game is not SA. It's karma. Jimmy is a terrible person who doesn't care about the pain he inflicts on others, as long as he gains something from it. The game follows him as he destroys the people around him, and treats them like fodder to fuel his own goals. We see all of this catch up to him in the end, and he's sortof divinely punished, or overcome with guilt, or whatever it is, because of it. Each person's harm is unique and everybody has their own micro-themes, but the core theme of the game is overwhelmingly karma.

Essentially, this is not a game about SA. This is a game about a terrible person getting what's coming to him.

Secondly, rape as shock content is a common gripe regarding mostly horror movies. It's a quick and easy way to create motivation, so much so that it's turned into its own subgenre of 'rape and revenge' plots. Think I Spit On Your Grave style movies. The other side of the same coin is objectifying the victim, which creates an exploitative feel. The act of the rape itself, and furthermore the shock of it, is more important than the victim and their feelings and trauma. Rape is detached from the lasting harm it causes, and is more something to justify getting up in arms about something/someone rather than a trauma.

And while we do see some of Anya's trauma from SA, Mouthwashing by and large is not meant to be a commentary on SA specifically. Again, it's about how terrible of a person Jimmy is, which makes the SA, at least in part, a tool to make the player hate him.

Ultimately, if Mouthwashing was changed to where Anya faced a different form of harm from Jimmy, instead of SA, it would still be just about the same game. You could still make a convincing game with karma and bad people getting their comeuppance as the core theme. And that I think is the most important realization to have about the subject.

Anya's SA was the first trauma, and the details of the aftermath are what kickstarted the plot, but it was, intentionally or not, a tool to make you hate Jimmy. Because the game isn't about Anya and her trauma. It's about Jimmy and his karma.

I think Mouthwashing is fascinating, and that theme of karma is not something I see done well very often. I think the style of the plot and all the little details that expound upon the micro-themes of the game are extremely well done. And I think it did handle its themes of SA better than a lot of content that discusses it. But it's not perfect, and it falls short of really digging into the true weight of it. It's not a game that makes any real progress on the portrayal of sexual trauma in media. It's cleaner and less graphic than 'rape and revenge' stories, but it ultimately still relies on exploiting the shock of rape to serve a 'bigger' plot.

It's late, I'm tired, and I'm struggling to properly word what I'm feeling, but hopefully my interpretation of nuance comes through.

[under-snail]

y'all i think i cracked deltarune

sort of. this theory is really long but broken into parts to make it easier to read.

I. Sans originates from Deltarune

so, it's pretty much confirmed that pre-Undertale Sans came from somewhere else, right? some place that he misses, but can't go back to.

so where did he come from?

I think, the world of deltarune. I have enough evidence that I'm pretty sure that at the least this part of the theory is correct. there are lost of hints, but overall:

there's one major difference between monsters in undertale and monsters in deltarune.

monsters in undertale don't bleed. they dissolve into dust the moment of their death. this makes for a unique type of funeral.

now, let's compare this to deltarune:

even though we don't see any monsters die (yet) in deltarune, in chapter 1 Susie makes a very interesting comment.

well actually, susie, everyone does NOT bleed, right?

the only dead monster we see in the light world is Berdly after killing him in the dark world. he is, presumably, dead, but he hasn't turned to dust. he's just...sitting there.

not to mention, IF monsters turned to dust in deltarune, there would be no reason for there to be a cemetary in the town, right? because there would be nothing to really bury.

So we've established that monsters in undertale turn into dust, while monsters in deltarune bleed and die similarly to humans.

there are no monsters in undertale that bleed or leave behind a body after being killed.

except for one.

now, we don't see sans leave behind a body. but, he moves just out of our line of sight just before dying. most likely he teleported elsewhere just before he died.

so, now that we've established sans originating from deltarune, let's move onto the next part of the theory

II. Deltarune is a sequel to undertale genocide.

(this part of the theory has been positied before, but I don't know where it originated. i first heard it from a deltarune playthrough by BornLosersGaming)

so, let's start with a seemingly innocuous fact.

this is taken from the official deltarune website.

now, this could mean nothing. but I find toby's word choice of 'completed' to be very interesting.

not for people who have played undertale, or even who have finished undertale. it's for people who completed undertale. the word completed is generally intended to mean having done everything possible. ex. the completionist instinct. completionists being those who have completed genocide.

let's look at chara's words after we complete the genocide run:

could the 'next' world mean deltarune?

that would indicate that the red soul possessing kris could be chara, moved on from erasing undertale and intending to do the same here.

let's remind ourselves that chara is US. we give them our own name at the start of undertale. they are meant to be a stand in for the player.

but how can chara make a reappearance, since they don't exist in deltarune. they don't even have a name. except, they do.

i think this was a very clever trick on toby's part to ensure the player enters their own name.

so to summarize: chara/frisk(frisks role will be discussed)'s soul has erased the undertale timeline, and have 'moved on to the next' possessing Kris and planning to erase the world of deltarune as well.

III. Chara represents the completionist instinct

so, this might be a little more of a meta take than a theory, but I think it ties in.

so, I don't think chara is a 1:1 representation of the player. chara doesn't appear in every playthrough of undertale. their presence only becomes known when we make illogical decisions.

when we play the pacifist run, we play in the role of frisk. almost nobody commits genocide in their first playthrough of undertale: it's our urge to complete, to know everything, that pushes us, the player, to light.

frisk is the character. chara is the controller. when frisk's actions reach the point of nonsensical, it doesn't make sense for frisk. we are no longer playing within the role of the character. we are playing solely to fulfill the desires of the completionist instinct. this instinct is said the best through the words of flowey. the only other being, aside from chara, not to have a soul. (as chara's soul was 'stolen' from frisk)

i think this could be a sort of commentary from toby, about how completionism takes away from the 'soul' of a game. as when you're acting in its favor, you are no longer playing the role you've been given.

as the completionist instinct takes over, the lines blur between frisk and chara. chara gains more and more control until they have complete control over frisk. we have taken control of the narrative in a way it was never meant to go.

we are no longer frisk. we are only ourselves.

IV. Sans is the sole survivor of deltarune

I think that by the end of deltarune (at least the snowgrave route, but possibly all routes) we will erase the deltarune timeline in the same way that we erased undertale's.

sans will be the sole survivor of this 'genocide' prompting him to escape to the universe of undertale and try to stop the 'anomaly' before it begins erasing timelines.

in undertale, sans acts like he knows what's coming next. what the anomaly (us) is capable of. and he spends the game trying to prevent us being taken over by chara, by befriending frisk so they don't feel the need to give in to chara or, as a last resort, fighting us himself.

while sans doesn't have complete omnisciense over the resets, he definitely has more of a sense of when the timeline is being messed with than other characters. because he's experienced is the most of anyone.

a lot of his fight dialogue gives us the feeling that he's seen this play out before.

this was the tip off, when he first sees chara jumping from timeline to timeline, jumbling them, throwing them off course, and eventually erasing them entirely.

sans knows where this is all going. that chara's victory won't just mean a reset, but the complete erasure of the timeline.

contrary to popular belief, i don't think the resets are what sans is primarily upset about. otherwise he'd fight us in other routes. no, he onlu fights us in the complete genocide run, when he sees chara fighting to take full control, because he knows what that means.

deltarune is our future, but it's sans' past. i think this is true because the sans we meet in deltarune is a sharp contrast to the one we all know. he doesn't appear suspicious of kris or on-edge. because unlike undertale's sans, he doesn't know the stakes of what's going on.

i think chara's past and intentions may also play a role in why kris is so distressed by the soul's presence. don't get me wrong, it would be distressing to be controlled by another being regardless of what that being is doing. but i think it might go deeper than that.

kris is desperate to get rid of the soul even in the case of a complete pacifist. even if all we're doing is sniffing flowers and making friends. maybe kris knows what we're capable of, maybe even what we've done in the past. we played innocently in the role of frisk for a while, too. but eventually our completionist urges-Chara-took over. Kris knows that the same thing will happen in their timeline, and they're trying to prevent it.

tldr: sans originates from the deltarune universe. deltarune takes place post-undertale genocide but in sans' past. chara represents the completionist instinct of players and the cruelty we're willing to commit to 'complete' the game. the soul is chara and is controlling frisk with the end goal of erasing the deltarune timeline.

bonus: who the hell is ralsei?

i don't actually think that ralsei is secretly evil. i think they're more aware than most characters of the soul and its intentions. they plot with kris behind our back and tries to shepherd us into a pacifist path, perhaps to delay our intentions of erasing the timeline.

[brainbaring]

WE COULD HAVE HAD THIS. WE COULD HAVE HAD THIS BUT INSTEAD THEY DECIDED TO GIVE US THREE FUCKING MINOTAURS AND TWO CATS.

[haunted-xander]

Sometimes I think about Urianger's role in and feelings on the Thancred-Ryne dynamic and I think watching it kills him a bit inside. For several reasons.

Like, to begin with there's the guilt he's been carrying with him since he ushered Minfilia to the first, how he effectively killed the person Thancred cared about the most in the world and who's "death" ended up causing Ryne's entire Situation. He looks at what's happening between them and can only think "I caused this" even though that's not really true. No one person is responsible for this outcome, it's a culmination of several circumstances and the consequences of them. Logically, Urianger knows this. But it doesn't matter, because his guilt is overpowering his logic.

And also, like. What Thancred is doing here, the way he's knowingly letting Ryne be and stay hurt because he literally cannot bring himself to tell her his feelings, is the exact same mistake Urianger made with Moenbryda. Of course, the circumstances are vastly different, and the potential consequences to Thancred telling Ryne the wrong things or her misinterperating it is far greater (being a matter of literal life or death), it's still the same sort of paralysis they are trapped in.

And he knows it. He sees it. But he can't say or do anything about it, he doesn't have the right to. He acknowledges the mistake, but he hasn't really improved upon it yet. He still doesn't voice his thoughts and feelings as he should. He's also non-confrontational by nature, he doesn't argue or try to change peoples minds, he probably doesn't think he has any place to.

So, he tries to help in what little ways he can. Because he doesn't want it to become Monebryda again, he doesn't want to know he stole not one but two people from Thancred. So he does what he can. He tells Ryne little tidbits about Thancred, things that help her understand him but are safe to share. Nothing too deep, nothing too personal. Just small things, things that are purely factual, because he can't afford to give her a false image of who Thancred is. He teacher her fun and interesting things, because Thancred isn't in the mindset to provide her with non-essential skills.

I like to think Urianger has brought it up with Thancred at least once, during one of his stays. But nothing would've come of it. Not really. Unlike Y'shtola, Urianger isn't pushy, he'll bring it up once or twice and when he sees this won't go anywhere, he gives up. He wants to help, but he knows that persistance only does do much, and he is not the person who has the resiliance needed to push and push until Thancred finally budges (because he won't budge, it won't help anything but to sour things further by adding aditional stress to an already strained dynamic).

And like. Urianger gets it. He gets it because he's been the same way- not saying what he should to someone he loves more than anything else because she was meant to figure her life out herself, and 'steering' her in any direction by telling her his feelings (regardless of if the 'steering' is intention or not) will go against that. He gets it. He gets it and it's all the more painful for it. He knows it can't just be fixed by acknowledging it or with encouragement, something needs to happen to break the stasis.

I think this is probably why he stayed behind while they went off to Nabaath Areng. This is the very last chance they have to say what they want to, and he can't afford to be the anchor anymore. This is about them, not him, he can't let their resolution be buffed by his presence, so he stays behind. Which was probably for the best. Ryne got nervous when Urianger said he's staying behind, probably not too excited about being alone with Thancred (well, not alone, but WoL doesn't count) so soon after she had ran away crying. But she needs to be nervous. For anything positive to come out of this Thancred and Ryne both can't afford to be too relaxed. As sad as it is, the stress is necessary for anything to happen. He knows it. Does he like it? Absolutely not, but nor does he like his other plots. At least no one dies this time if it goes right.

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[ritualove]

Silas admittedly got a little bit bashful again when Shira teased him again. He couldn't help but laugh as he watched her perform, him being the sole audience memeber. He liked watching her perform, even if it was at his expense, frankly he kind of liked that it was at his expense, he wouldn't admit it though. When she said she wouldn't mind infecting him, it made his heart skip a beat. His face definitely went a strong shade of red, Shira's face in her hands being his saving grace. Seeing her laugh so openly gave Silas a strange feeling, almost like a sickly feeling but nice? Oh god, that might actually just be butterflies. "How could that have come out right!?" Silas said, laughter finally leaving his blushed cheeks. He was mesmerized by how she moved, especially when she was laughing. The way she hid her face in her hands, looked through the gap in her fingers, and put them in her lap. She moved in such a unique way, it was almost hypnotizing. Silas took another, smaller, sip from the glass, and offered Shria another sip from the glass. He wasn't sure whether or not she wanted it, but he would be remiss if he didn't ask. His head tilted at her statement of honesty, he couldn't help but smile, "You also shouldn't tell lies." He said, in a fun tone. Silas has definitely broken promises in his life, more than he would like to admit.

He felt relief as she reaffirmed that his company dosen't concern her. Shira's soft tone, like a surprise to herself, even got Silas a little hung up. He has been looking at her so closely, examining her every light movement, or the way the light touches her soft skin, but he hasn't taken the chance to listen to the way she talks, or the way she breathes. Her voice sounded strange, in a good way, the only way he would be able to describe it is comforting. As she asked him what he was intrigued by, Silas actually had to pause as he considered his answer, a deep perplexion spreading across his face. He found his answer, and recited it in the appropriate noir movie narrator tone. "Probably the femme fatale thing, sitting on a window sill, looking out the window, smoke on your lips. You look like someone who has a secret, a secret that I can't help but want to know." He was a little impressed at what he came up with, he should have written it down, but it wasn't exactly the truth. It was a performance that he said to her, and she deserved better than that. She deserved to know his honest, uneditted thoughts. He leaned in, close to her, his head past her head so he could whisper in her ear, "In all honesty I have no idea what about you intrigues me, but I want to find out." He pulled back, giving her her space back, the smell of Shira's hair leaving him with a buzz, a second hand high.

Silas raised an eyebrow, "A photographer?" He smiled, like he just found out a clue to a mystery, some break in a decade old cold case. He's been photographed countless times, for magazines or the back of his books. He dosen't think he's ever had some want to take his picture, at least without getting paid, it felt nice, especially being told it in a whisper. He couldn't help but move ever so slightly closer to her, her proximity more comforting than the sound of her voice. Her closeness something he has grown to desire. "I'd love for you to take my picture, as long as my clothes stay on." He paused, eyes going upwards in thought, "Actually I'd love for you to take my picture either way." Silas watched her closely, a mischievous grin forming on his face. Just a silly joke, even if he was being completely honest.

Shira couldn't help herself but laugh with him, stars in her eyes as she shot him a curious but teasing look, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, you want my cooties? Specifically? You're right, very different. My mistake." She gave a mock bow, silently repenting; but her gaze remained on him, lashes batting in a deliberately slow pace. "I guess, I wouldn't mind infecting you, then." It sounded much better in her head than it did out loud. A deep blush spread across her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands as a series of her own giggles erupted. "Oh, god, that came out wrong." Came out wrong but the sentiment was still the same. She grimaced into the space between her fingers before she placed her hands back into her lap, smiling at him wryly. "Thank you very much, Silas." Shira said, making sure to match her tone to the way he had said her name just a beat before, lingering and sweet. She didn't hide her appreciation, relaxing back against the sill as she watched him help her make the content's of the cup disappear. "I've never made a promise that I didn't keep." Her tone deliberate. Almost a tease, a challenge wrapped in affection.

She had noticed too, the way he looked at her when she was in the midst of speech. Not in a shallow way, much like one would go through the motions a la muscle memory. Rather that he was not only listening to her words, but assessing the true meaning’s that were nestled in the in-between’s; every gasp, hum and scrunch of her nose. It wasn't often that she saw that kind of sincerity. It exhilarated her and terrified her all the same, adrenaline pulsing and filling her with a warmth that spread throughout her chest. Shira had spent years trying to thicken up her skin so that she wouldn’t keep dripping blood all over everything she came in contact with that made her feel that kind of warmth. But in that moment, she wanted to shed that skin. Serpentine. A yearning that only increased the longer Silas peered at her. His carefully placed smile pulled her from the rest of her internal monologue, “To Portland!” she parroted, bringing her hand up to pretend to clink a glass against their shared one that sat in his hand. Even if she didn't think that it was wise for her to ever go back there; Shira still found herself thinking that Burnside might glow a little brighter if Silas were standing on it.

“No, no, no,” she quietly babbled, her hands waving in small, dismissive but friendly strokes “don’t be sorry, it’s okay. I don't mind.” And she really didn't mind; him looking at her like that. Even if it did make her more self aware. Shira pressed a palm back to the sill for a moment, trying to steady herself from a heartbeat so strong she swore she could feel it even in her toes; all numb and buzzing. “Pray tell, Silas,” she hummed — a soft, blithe tone that surprised even herself “what is it about me that is so intriguing to you?” Shira tilted her head to the side, her toes curling inside of her sneakers in anticipation of his answer; bated breath furling in her throat. “I find myself intrigued by you too.” Barely escaping amongst her own over thinking.

Suddenly; a thought. One that she couldn't stop from rushing to fruition, proverbial word vomit “I think I’d like to take your picture sometime.” Which only left her blushing even more than before. She wanted to evaporate, sure she was embarrassing herself now. “I mean, if you'd like that.” Shira quickly added, squaring her shoulders as she resumed her position leaning towards him, quickly growing fond of their hushed conversations and carefully placed nuance.

[magpie-trove]

%

[siphisket]

Skirt Toge made a special appearance while drawing online with friends!

I ended up really liking how it turned out so I cleaned it up a bit, keeping on theme with the funky colors my friend drew behind him lol

[tangyyrine]

I don’t think we talk enough how the 2019 Loki comic tried to do “erm… God of Stories doesn’t really fit me anymore… 🫤🙁” only for that entire sentiment to be ignored in every comic that came after and for Loki to continue to be called God of Stories. And as they should be!!

[rainbow-crane]

[obligatory reminder that this is a mastermind au]

Mukuro Ikusaba, Junko Enoshima, and Ryoko Otonashi are near-identical triplets. Mukuro has freckles, but otherwise, they looked almost identical for years. Keyword *looked*, as their personalities were all wildly different, to the point you wouldn't believe they were raised by the same people.

(Their parents, Kenji Ikusaba and Hana Otonashi, wanted to keep their family names, as well as Kenji's mother's maiden name, so when they found out they were having triplets, they decided to give each one one of their names. This is why they have different surnames.)

From a very early age, Mukuro, the eldest triplet, was fascinated with weapons. When she heard on the news about a bomb that had exploded on the train her dad would take to work, her first thought was to wonder how the bomb worked before her father's safety. It's not like she didn't care outright, she just found the topic fascinating, and no one seemed to get that besides her sisters. The idea of a gun in her hands was alluring. So when Fenrir approached her on a family camping trip and offered her training and a place on their corps, she happily accepted. She had lightning fast reflexes and incredible stamina, the most athletic in her class by far, so she was an ideal candidate. She was also small, and could take cover and get in closer where others could not. Fenrir took advantage of that.

Ryoko, the youngest triplet, loved puzzles. They were a lot of fun, and surprisingly easy for her. She wasn't sure what it was, but puzzle games and riddles just came so naturally to her. They were entertaining, moreso than anything else, and they were fairly stimulating. As she got older, though, they started to get easy. Too easy. Almost boring to run through them. Her best friend Yasuke suggested entering competitions. Games shows, maybe. Maybe those types of competitions would be more stimulating, and any money she won could go into her education fund. She agreed. It sounded like it could be fun. She won every time. As she quickly realized, it wasn't just the puzzles she could read with ease. It was her competitors, too. When she put her mind to it, she could perfectly analyze not only what the best move would be, but the moves her opponents would make, too. She became a bit of a marvel. The 12 year old girl that could defeat anyone, with an unbroken streak of victories. Many tried to break that streak. All failed.

Junko Enoshima, the middle triplet, hated society. She hated being told what to do, when to do it, how to be a good woman. She hated all of it. What she did love, though, was Gyaru. Rebellion. The idea of claiming power for herself. She saw the way her older sister had become so strong, already independent of the family, and her younger sister, the genius, making a name for herself and their family. She was stuck in the middle, not quite forgotten, but not quite known, either. And so she invested in Gyaru. It was fun, an escape, and while it was meant to be just for herself, it got her attention. Actually, a LOT of attention. Maybe it was just because her sister's had already garnered so much attention, but once she started to branch out, people wanted her for photoshoots, advertisements, magazines. People were taking notice of her unique approach to the style. She became a trendsetter, and despite being the last sibling to start working, she was the first that Hope's Peak Academy took notice of.

All three sisters were accepted into Hope's Peak, which made them all ecstatic. Not only were they all uniquely the best at their passions, but they also got to see each other again. Mukuro had been away from home for so long, after all. Sure, Ryoko was in a separate homeroom, but that didn't matter much. At least, not until Mukuro and Junko woke up in the killing game, with Ryoko nowhere to be found. (She was also the figure in their motive videos for chapter 1, though this doesn't affect the chapter.)

actually fuck it. Crane's Ideal AU master-tiers go (plz ask me to elaborate I love 2 yap)

[comixandco]

there’s an alternate universe out there where when you reach the sanctum in totk when “zelda” does her little cutscene she ends it by throwing a dagger at you and it whistles just past link’s head as he reacts in shock before readying himself for battle and then you regain control of him as a boss bar appears at the top of the screen that reads “Puppet Zelda, Twisted Memory”

and Link is forced to fight the one he swore he would protect and has been chasing after the entire game, and instead of a sage offering him warnings or encouragement the Zelda belittles him and accuses him of abandoning her and failing her and leaving her to die

and her attacks at the beginning of the fight are those bursts of bright light and the daggers but as you whittle down her health and begin stage two the facade begins to slip and the light bursts are replaced with darkness and she oozes gloom wherever she moves and her movements become more stiff and skeletal and broken

and then once you’ve defeated her she rises into the air all broken and limp but still looking at you and says that it doesn’t matter that she wasn’t zelda because zelda is still gone, trapped in the past with no way to come home she could be burried anywhere in hyrule, and she summons a dark bow of light and draws it back as a red-purple bulging mass begins to form at the arrow tip

and that’s when the sages turn up, sidon unleashing a wave that pushes the bow aside, tulin firing an arrow that riju uses to cast down lightning, and yunobo at link’s side, and they all have their own line of dialogue that boils down to ‘don’t worry link, there’s no way that’s zelda, she would never say those horrible things, and we know she’s still out there because you heard her true voice, so don’t lose hope!’

and then zelda dissolves into gloom with a fit of that uncanny laughter and that’s when that megamind-style ganondorf head appears and makes his whole speech about how they have no idea who he is or was and you get his memory and that he has waited all his imprisonment to battle against link and prove that he is the strongest in hyrule, ‘and then you will fall, link, as rauru and zelda did, knowing that hyrule falls with you. Come to the Depths beneath this wretched castle, and meet your fate, o destined hero.’

and then the zelda-gloom melts away into a heart, and the sages have that post-battle talk about re-grouping at lookout landing, and tell link not to do anything rash because they will find the real zelda together

[coquelicoq]

you can tell how bad my executive dysfunction is by how many completed sudoku puzzles there are lying around, or even better by how many started but not completed sudoku puzzles there are. and baby it is sudoku city in here.