#like does she even like me? does she care about me? she claims she does and then does this like wth

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Can you rank the sdv bachelors/bachelorettes on who would adjust the best/worst to farm life? I'm curious on your opinion :))

Sure thing, let's do a ranking on our marriage candidates 😃 Thanks for the ask, dear anon! 🫰💕

Also, I think it's worth saying that I think all candidates will adjust well to their new life on the farm. This is where I described and judged candidates when they first moved onto the farm, from day one. This is just my opinion, so if you think differently, feel free to write about it here in replies!

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SDV bachelors:

Shane gets a confident 8.5/10. After all, he didn't get the nickname "chicken man" for nothing, as he takes excellent care of hens on his aunt's ranch. So much so that he's bred his own breed of blue chickens! Plus, I'm sure Shane has helped Marnie take care of other animals while in the barn, and knows a fair bit about growing crops (at least his favourite hot peppers). So he will adapt almost instantly!

I'll probably get some hate for this, but I'll give Elliott a 1/10. With all due respect to our gallant writer, he literally has a quote where he says he "won't water the plant with salt water this time." ...Who would ever think of watering a freshwater plant with salt water, even without a background in gardening? So it's going to take Elliott a long time to adjust to life on a farm, especially if it's a Beach Farm ("Don't water the tomatoes with seawater!").

Normally Sam's mother, as she herself claimed, didn't make him and Vincent do house work, and there's no garden or hint of anyone in the family taking care of the houseplants (most likely Jodi doing all the work). So Sammy jumps from the life of a carefree musician to one full of farm chores, at least partially. In fact, he doesn't mind giving it a try, just doesn't know where to start ("Honey, help me"). 3/10, he's a little confused, but he got the spirit.

Being constantly busy working with patients, despite the small size of the town, and a bunch of other things to do in his clinic, certainly doesn't leave Harvey enough free time to do much gardening. But at least there's some time to read books, and the library just happens to have a couple of interesting ones about farming. I think it will at least give him the opportunity to grow tomatoes in a pot (albeit decorative ones). It's going to be a lot harder with farming, but Harvey even likes it. Still, 3.5/10, he's trying.

Similar situation with Sam, Sebastian will jump from a life of freelance programming work to the farm work. Of course Farmer won't force Sebby to work for them, after all they love him for who he is, not as free labour. But emo himself feels he should help his spouse with their work somehow. He's so-so at growing crops, but taking care of the chickens and goats is much better. 4/10, the black hens are his favourite, btw.

Oh, Alex will fit into farm life quite nicely. The athlete may have difficulty tending crops, watering potatoes and garlic with too much water, but in terms of physical tasks he does just fine. Drag heavy bags of seed/hay? Heck yeah! Load heavy pumpkins into the shipping bin for sale? Easy, he'll do it with one hand! It's like a workout for him. 6.5/10, go Alex!

SDV bachelorettes:

Penny may not have had the opportunity to grow melons or have a small garden near her house (well, trailer in this case), she was constantly reading books about foraging and farming, overflowing with dreams of having her own green place. Soon her dream came true, and all the theory they read was not wasted. Of course, the young teacher will definitely have difficulties, as this is not a small garden but a huge farm, but she will adapt quite well. 7/10, very nice.

4.5/10 for Maru. Actually, she's been a great helper on the farm from the beginning, only her area of expertise was different. Maru will easily fix any broken oil maker or calculate the proportions of minerals for fertiliser, but when asked to take care of the vegetable garden, the young inventor will definitely fall into a stupor. Still, I'm sure she will get used to it, because Maru is a genius, and if she can create an intelligent robot, she can handle growing strawberries as well.

I was going to give Haley the same number of points as Elliott, but I thought her trying to learn how to interact with cows and my idea that she wanted to learn about growing sunflowers deserved another point. So let it be 2/10. Yes, very low, but Haley used to be squeamish of any dirt and smells, so farm life, which is just full of dirt and smells (especially from the barn) will be a bit difficult for a girl.

In general, Leah's knowledge is closer to foraging than to farming, but the talented artist is definitely not afraid of hard work, and has a basic knowledge of growing crops. She definitely offered her then (future) spouse help on the farm several times. Yes, it was flirting, but Leah was actually willing to help carry seeds and water the plants, even had something to share about growing mushrooms on stumps. 7.5/10, she's a great fit.

On the one hand, Abigail has some experience in farming, as Pierre definitely asked her for help in his small vegetable garden behind the shop. On the other hand, the purple-haired girl didn't really show much interest in all this and she seemed to lack patience with plants and flowers before. It's different now, but Abby thought at times that her father and mother's chatter about plants was for a reason after all. 4/10, not too great, but not all bad either.

Emily takes care of the flowers in the house, so some knowledge she has. She loves nature and being outside, that's undeniable. Farming skills? Well... yes and no. Emily is a hard-working bee, but almost all of her time has been taken up at the Saloon, cleaning the house, and a passion for tailoring, so she doesn't have much experience. Still, it's there, and I'd give it a 5/10, but more because of the fact that Emily definitely takes good care of the animals ("My friends")

_________________________________________

So, from best to worst (SDV bachelors):

№1: Shane; №2: Alex; №3: Sebastian; №4: Sam; №5: Harvey; №6: Elliott.

From best to worst (sdv bachelorettes):

№1: Leah; №: Penny; №3: Emily; №4: Maru; №5: Abigail; №6: Haley.

[acciotaitlynn]

Xavier following you around begging for forgiveness, interfering with your dates, etc after you break up with him because he chose mc to save instead of you but he regrets it now plzzzzzz? 🥺

Hiii! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ I hope it's okay that this is spicy! Xavikitty's got me really worked up 😩💦 This healed something in me fr. Thank you for requesting!

→ xavier༝you ꒰sylus is your bestie꒱

→ 18+, unprotected sex, vsex, marking/claiming, fingering, masturbation, angst, angel/baby/good girl used, you know he's eating that pussy ⋆˙⟡ reader is not mc from lads

→ wc: 9k

It plays on an endless loop in Xavier’s head—he remembers pushing you into harm's way to protect her. He shuts his eyes, steeling himself as the memory flares up like a haunting specter, nausea twisting at its force.

How can he possibly make you understand? After countless lifetimes dedicated to protecting Mai, it’s become instinctual, as natural as breathing. He’s devoted himself to placing her life above all else, including his own, to the point where it requires no conscious thought. His body moves according to her needs, like weary clay molded to her unyielding will.

Typically, keeping her safe fills him with immense pride and joy. She’s the center of his existence—the one thing he’s never once regretted dedicating himself to.

He’s unsure when that began to change. Perhaps it was the first moment he laid eyes on you. He remembers it vividly… 

You stood beside Mai, the woman he’s always considered the most beautiful soul in the world, yet all he could see was you. A soft, surprised inhale escaped him as he caught your radiant gaze. Then his eyes wandered over your form, drawn to the uniform that hugged your curves in all the right places—curves that stirred a long-buried ache in him, a longing he’d almost forgotten existed.

Captain Jenna assigned you to the Unicorns team, instructing them to show you the ropes during your first few months. Much to Mai's dismay, Xavier took a shine to you. You both hit it off instantly, diving into animated discussions about books, video games, and anime that last for hours. 

Xavier changes around you. It's a stark contrast from his usual aloof demeanor; he becomes like an overeager puppy, radiating a cheerful, youthful energy that draws you in. You make him feel alive, his soul buzzing with excitement whenever you're around.

Then there's Mai. The lingering touches and flirtations between her and Xavier are familiar yet futile. He feels something for her—his body still heats up when she’s near, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach whenever she hugs him. But you? You make his heart race to the point where he can't think straight. You ignite a spark in him that he’s hesitant to acknowledge, filling him with light and hope. 

With Mai, it’s different. While she makes him happy, the constant chase for something unachievable cloaks their moments in a bittersweet melancholy, even during the brightest times. A nagging question lingers in his mind—is he starting to care for you so deeply that it’s overshadowing his feelings for her? Is that even possible?

Mai has consumed his thoughts and desires for as long as he can remember. He struggles to disentangle himself from her, even against his will. But ever since that first mission together, you’ve carved a place in his psyche that’s too significant to ignore. 

Unbeknownst to him, his changes around you are glaringly obvious. And you can't help but smirk at how annoyed it makes Mai. She does her best to keep you away from him, often splitting up during missions to maintain her hold. She sits closer to Xavier, throwing you daggers with her glares, her flirtations with him seemingly growing bolder by the day. 

Currently, her arm is draped over his shoulders as she whispers into his ear. As your eyes meet Xavier’s, warmth blooms in his gaze, only to falter when you quickly look away.

It’s only been three days since he pushed you in front of that wanderer without a second thought, pulling Mai away as though her safety was paramount. Mai executed her plan with precision, positioning herself between you and the threat when Xavier was distracted to force a choice upon him. It was meant to convey that he ultimately belongs to her.

You've asked him to avoid speaking to you unless it’s work-related, and even then, you prefer silence. His gentle voice feels like a sharp knife cutting deep into your resolve. Just one more month, and you can escape this toxic duo for good.

Watching Mai cling to him is torture—some sort of cruel cosmic punishment for an unknown transgression. Every place her hands linger is a spot you crave for yourself. Your desire for Xavier has burned since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s evident he shares that longing, how his gaze roams over you when he thinks you’re not looking, and how he blushes fiercely at the simplest of touches.

You just don’t understand it. You know their heartbreaking history; Sylus filled you in. Giving up on something you've worked so hard for is a monumental challenge. Still, they don’t joke and laugh like you do. His eyes don’t light up for her the way they do for you; that deep cerulean gaze doesn’t trace her form with the same heat anymore. He no longer seeks her out or reciprocates her touches. In fact, he’d likely forget her entirely if she weren’t always throwing herself at him. 

So, why doesn’t he draw a line? Why won’t he create the boundary he so obviously needs? It’s maddening. 

You wish for the patrol minutes to fly by so you can escape, grab a few drinks, and retreat to the safety of binge-watching anime, where you can finally process your feelings. 

Your friend’s ringtone cuts through your frustration as Mai nuzzles into Xavier, earning a grimace from him as he pulls back slightly. The deep voice on the other end of your phone call soothes your irritation like crisp, smoky whiskey. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, relief washing over you at the welcome distraction. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now.

“You sound upset, sweetie. Is a certain naughty kitten causing you some frustration again?” he teases, referring to the skank currently toeing Xavier’s thigh. You glance around, taking in the scene around you, and it only intensifies your disgust. It's a crowded street, and she just pops her boot off and goes for it.

“It would be great if you could come take her away. for like, ever,” you mumble grumpily.

"But then you might miss me," he drawls, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"That's why video chat exists," you reply, rolling your eyes.

Mai knows exactly who’s on the other end of that line, but her confidence in your friendship with Sylus keeps her at ease. She knows you don’t stand in the way of her claim on him. Instead, she leans closer to Xavier, her fingers tracing lazy shapes along his arm, a suggestive grin plastered on her face. 

Yet it’s a futile effort. Xavier is hanging on your every word, his focus unwavering. His remains unreadable as you assure Sylus you'll arrive soon.

Finally, the clock strikes midnight. Unfortunately, you’ve ridden here with Mai, as your car is in the shop. You contemplate how to ask for a lift, but before you can gather the courage, Xavier swiftly breaks free from Mai’s grasp and gently guides you toward his car.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Xavier!” Mai's voice drips with irritation as she tries to pull him back.

He dodges her intervention, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t you need a ride?” he asks, keeping his gaze steady on you.

Mai’s stunned expression is almost comical, but Xavier doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He’s not about to subject you to another awkward ride with her, especially when he can’t shake the unsettled feeling that gnaws at him at the thought of you having dinner with Sylus. How easily you seemed to relax upon receiving his call is driving Xavier mad. 

As Mai seethes next to her bike, Xavier’s focus remains ahead, his expression calm, but his grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. You angle toward the window, crossing your arms and letting the scenery blur past. Irritation bubbles just beneath the surface, and you can’t help but murmur, “Escaping your master’s leash. Impressive.” 

He glances at you, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but then he turns his gaze back to the road, leaving the tension hanging in the air between you.

Sylus is waiting when you pull up, propped casually against the bar’s porch, with a cigarette in hand and a knowing glint in his eyes as he watches you arrive. Xavier seems poised to say something, but you hop out of the car before he can get the words out, striding straight past Sylus and tossing a casual “What’s up?” over your shoulder.

You miss the way Sylus shoots a glance at Xavier—a look that says, “You better behave.” He has no grudge against the hunter; Mai chose Sylus, so what was there for him to resent? That was until Xavier started hurting you.

“I seriously don’t understand what you see in her,” you mutter as Sylus takes a seat, prompting a chuckle from him and a playful ruffle of your hair.

“I find it all part of her charm,” he shoots back with a grin.

With an exasperated sigh, you focus on getting drunk enough to forget Xavier. That task feels daunting until Sylus volunteers for karaoke, his performance drowning out your worries. When he flops back down at the table, he wears a broad grin, eyes sparkling.

“Good, right?” he asks, confidence overflowing, and it takes all your restraint not to tease him.

He’s sensitive about his singing. So, you lean in with your best serious face. “So good, Sy. You’ve gotten even better!”

His ego balloons as he settles back into the booth, nodding appreciatively as he says, “Truly.”

Carmine eyes brightened by the drinks, his flushed face scans the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at how effortlessly beautiful he looks when he lets loose. Just once, you wish he’d look bad, allowing you to be the cute one in the friendship.

Noticing your irritated appraisal, Sylus chuckles, his arm draping over the booth. He shoots you a mock, severe look. “Better not let your hunter catch you looking at me like that, sweetie. Or Mai, for that matter.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Your head is getting bigger. Seriously, it might be wider than your shoulders by now.”

But his smile vanishes, replaced by concern as he studies you. “How are you holding up?”

Your gentle smile reflects your appreciation for his genuine concern. Sylus can be a pain, but he also knows how to be a great friend. “I’m okay, I guess. If your girl gets any more hands-on, though…” You narrow your eyes at him like it’s his fault. “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s all over him lately?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tossing back a shot. “Sweetie, look at me, then at him—what’s there to worry about?”

Your scoff drips with sarcasm, enough to irk him. He raises an eyebrow and playfully kicks your ankle, smirking as you wince and curse loudly enough to catch others' attention. But soon, his worry returns, his voice softening as he tries to comfort you. “You know their history, dove. Surely, you can see that letting her go will be nearly impossible for him. I warned you about this.”

He did warn you, and you didn’t listen. Now you wish you had. You gave him a tender smile and a reassuring pat on his hand, murmuring, “I know. I just need time to accept it.”

Mission accomplished—both you and Sylus are sufficiently drunk as you head out, making plans for him to drop you off at your place. You’re busy teasing Mephisto, who’s perched on Sylus’s shoulder. His irritated nip catches your attention, and you notice Xavier’s car is still parked outside. 

Xavier knows you can see him, but you turn away, hopping on Sylus’s bike as he takes off. Guilt and irritation bubble within him as he hits the dashboard, cursing softly while watching you disappear into the distance.

When did he start hating Sylus for being near you rather than for being near Mai? As he contemplates, he realizes their relationship hasn’t bothered him lately. He’s certain he heard them banging last night from his apartment, and he couldn’t have cared less. All that consumed his mind was how to show you how sorry he is. 

After a while, his imagination ran wild, turning Mai’s cries of pleasure into thoughts of you, your sweet voice calling out in ecstasy.  His desire grew painfully as he imagined you beneath him, gripping himself tightly as he came hard enough to see stars, all while dealing with the guilt of betraying your trust.

Earlier, words had failed him, bound tight by guilt and nerves. He doesn’t know how to make you understand, but he has to try; the thought of seeing you in pain any longer is unbearable. The need to wrap you in his arms and kiss away that adorable frown grows stronger daily.

The hope of taking you home and getting a chance to try again disappears with your retreating silhouette. He groans in frustration, his head hitting the steering wheel as exhaustion trickles over him.

He’s an absolute mess. He can’t eat or sleep—two of his favorite things. Even meat doesn’t hold appeal right now. He’s miserable. 

Helplessly, he follows you and Sylus, watching your figures from his car as you sit in front of the TV.  Eventually, though, he leaves, knowing knocking on your door in the middle of the night to fall on his knees and apologize isn’t a realistic option unless he wants you to see just how much he’s falling apart over this.

At some point, you fall asleep, and Sylus covers you up before heading out. Both you and Xavier hope for relief in your dreams, but instead, your dreams are haunted by each other’s presence.

Mai has taken the day off to accompany Sylus on a business deal, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss her. It would have been nice if Sylus had taken you along instead, leaving her here to make Xavier as miserable as you are.

Once upon a time, the thought of being alone with him on a mission filled you with excitement, practically keeping you awake the night before from sheer nerves. Now, you do your best to ignore him, walking just out of reach.

He kicks a rock, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “We should head back soon; it’s getting late. We can look for the protocore again tomorrow.”

Guilt bubbles up in you at the melancholy lacing his voice. You nod and gesture toward a nearby Wanderer, saying, “Let’s take that one down and head out.”

The two of you fight seamlessly, your movements flowing together in a rhythm more exquisite than what he shares with Mai—something that seems to stun him every time. Without realizing it, he’s started gravitating toward you during battles, often having to forcibly pull himself back to her side.

A fresh pang of guilt gnaws at him, a feeling of drifting further away from what he’s always believed to be his purpose in life. He feels so lost, and there’s only one direction he longs to run in.

When did you become his guiding star?

The trip home is the most awkward car ride you’ve ever endured, the air thick with unease. You let out a long sigh, adjusting your seat as you turn up the volume on Mozart's Symphony No. 41, the "Jupiter" movement, hoping the music can cut through the oppressive silence. The soothing notes help ease Xavier's anxiety a bit, which in turn allows you to relax as the tension around you fades—if only slightly.

But as he parks in front of your place and kills the engine, the uncomfortable atmosphere returns with full force. Every part of you longs to bolt inside, terrified of the conversation that looms ahead. You know what’s coming. He’ll look at you with those beautiful, earnest eyes and say he’s sorry, genuinely believing it, but that apology will only sharpen the pain. If he genuinely cared, he wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way. If you mattered to him, he would have shown it when it counted.

You look away, remaining still in a silent invitation for him to speak.

His soft voice slices through the tension, murmuring, “I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of silence washes over you, anger surging beneath the surface—a force that takes all your strength to suppress. You shake your head in disbelief, your nails digging into your palms as you seek relief from the emotional turmoil. Pain to drown out the pain.

He notices, gently taking your hand, unfurling your fingers, and placing them back in your lap. Your body responds to his touch, a raw ache begging for more, while a part of you screams in frustration. Shooting him a glare, you cross your arms tightly, fighting against the tears welling up.

“Don’t touch me, Xavier.” Your voice is low and firm—an order that conflicts with the desperate plea of your heart, urging you to draw him closer.

His face falls, shoulders slumping as his hand drops to his lap. “Okay,” he whispers, the hurt in his voice cracking your heart a little more. You reach for him, then quickly pull back.

Searching your face, he pleads, “May I have a moment to explain? I know it won’t help, but—”

You grab your bag, cutting him off. “No need; Sylus took care of it. You chase her across the cosmos, hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you. I'm caught up. Thank you for the apology, though. Really,” you say softly, closing the door behind you. As you walk away, you can almost feel the weight of his regret lingering in the air.

A date at Meow’s Cafe, surrounded by adorable miniature cats, should be a delightful experience. Yet today, it feels heavy with the weight of Xavier’s absence. It’s your first time here without him, and everything is off; the playful mews of the kitties have lost their charm, grating on your nerves instead, while the usually vibrant atmosphere feels dull and lifeless.

The man sitting across from you is undeniably attractive, with dark, wavy hair, a chiseled jawline, and a smile that promises excitement and chaos. You can’t help but appreciate the way his fingers linger a moment too long on your skin or the longing glint in his eyes. Yet, the ache of Xavier’s absence lingers, casting a shadow over your attempts to enjoy the moment.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you scrub your hands, your thoughts lingering on thoughts of him. Just as you’re about to shake the memories away, his soft voice—almost a whisper—brushes against your ear. “Does he play as well as me?”

You can almost feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable mix of frustration and jealousy. Xavier’s emotions swirl around him, creating a glow that’s impossible to ignore. Watching you with someone else, someone who seems to draw you in far too easily, has shattered something within him. 

As you turn, you’re startled to find him standing there, his presence commanding and intense. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths quickening, and his hooded blue eyes betray a storm of feelings: anger, grief, desire, and a potent possessiveness that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine.

You fight to maintain your composure, voice steady as you ask, “What are you doing here?” Tara set this date up for you just yesterday, assuring you that it would help you forget about Xavier. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his lips grazing your cheek as he pushes you gently against the wall. For a moment, his tender touch makes you forget all about the boundaries you've set.

“What are you—”

He cups your cheek, kissing you so softly it nearly steals your breath away. “There aren’t words to express how sorry I am,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours, thumb brushing away your unshed tears as you stand frozen, torn between pushing him away and kissing him again.

You allow his lips to skim your neck, cursing your body’s betrayal when you feel an intense warmth spread through you at just the brush of his breath on your skin. 

“If I could do it over, I wouldn’t make the same choice,” he confesses, his eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. The truth in his words shakes him to his core—given another chance, he would choose you without hesitation.

Reality crashes over you, jarring you from his spell. You pull away, a sad, pitying look crossing your face. “Yes, you really would,” you reply quietly, determination solidifying your resolve as you stride out of the cafe with your date in tow.

Your date's name is Ash, but it feels irrelevant; he’s merely a means to an end, a warm body to help work out your frustrations. A pretty placeholder whose touch you imagine belongs to Xavier—a delicious fantasy until you accidentally murmur Xavier’s name, and the atmosphere grows awkward. 

Left alone, forced to find release on your own. Visions of Xavier’s cock filling you up while his beautiful gaze locks with yours consume your mind. You’re a mess of whimpers, chanting his name in a prayer that fills the stillness of your room as you ride an orgasm so powerful it borders on pain. Despite its overwhelming intensity, it does nothing to ease the ache that demands you give in to him, insisting on your claim in every way possible.

It disgusts you how you can still want someone who causes you so much pain, someone who can never care for you like you care for him. 

Your phone pings, lighting up with a message—from Xavier. He hasn’t texted you since that fateful mission, and you kick yourself at the happiness the sudden communication brings you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Next, a video comes through, sending your phone flying across the carpet as a shriek leaves you. Your hand claps over your mouth in shock, and you immediately rush to retrieve it, relentless desire flooding you at the image on the screen.

Xavier reclines on a sofa with his legs spread wide, his black button-up open to show off his lean, sculpted form. He frees his cock—so hard it looks painful. He must be super sensitive because the moment his hand wraps around himself, he lets out a needy little whimper that curls your toes.

You wish more than anything to take him in your mouth, to taste the pretty beads of precum that make his movements slick and sloppy.

Your stunned murmur of, “W-what is happening…” sounds so horrified and horny that it's comical.

Your fingers move almost of their own accord, slipping deep inside you to match his rhythm. You prop your phone up so your free hand can trail over your body, pinching and rolling your nipples as your breath quickens alongside his. You hate yourself for every touch, but you can’t stop. Your attention latches onto him and nothing else, unable to look away, even if what’s about to happen ends up ruining you. 

His grip firms instantly as if aware of your reaction, and he strokes himself faster. His head kicks back, his eyes slam shut, and a low groan escapes him. “I’m picturing myself inside you,” he admits, “Imagining laying claim to every inch of your body and soul.”

His gaze pierces through the camera, earnest and pleading, his blue eyes shining with unfathomable need.

“You think I wouldn’t make a different choice if given the chance, but you’re wrong. Besides fucking you, regret is a constant on my mind, relentlessly replaying as I watch myself make the stupidest choice of my life.” He lays his head back again, keeping his eyes on the camera as he languidly strokes himself, continuing, “Centuries of longing for and chasing after Mai, of dedicating my very existence to her, and then you come along and turn my entire world upside down with just a smile. You make me want to give up everything I believe in to be with you.”

His words trail off as his movements become frantic. With an incoherent mumble, he says, “I bet you’re so tight… so warm. Are you wet for me, angel? I hope so… W-will you cum with me?” The plea in his voice is unmistakable.

You whimper, nodding frantically, your pussy squeezing your fingers as his filthy words spur you on.

Your gaze flits over his body, unable to settle as your pleasure builds. He’s so pretty—his face flushed, sweat beading on his skin, his cerulean eyes burning bright. A whiny, needy repetition of your name leaves his lips as cum covers his hand and stomach, sending you hurtling into your own release.

Shame fills you when the pleasure subsides. His face moves closer to the camera, and he softly murmurs, “I really miss you,” effectively ripping your heart out and stomping on it before the video cuts off, an unsettling silence filling the air. You want to scream and cry, and most frustratingly, you want a second round with the most significant thing ever filmed.

A sudden realization hits you, and you groan, stuffing your face into a pillow with a muted scream. Work tomorrow is going to be so awkward.

Thank the gods your car is finally back from the shop. An immense sense of relief washes over you, knowing you won’t have to endure another ride with Xavier after what happened last night—or, possibly even worse, with Mai.

However, that relief quickly evaporates as you arrive at work and see Xavier striding toward you. He boldly brushes your hair back and leans in close, whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself last night? I know I did,” his smile warm and inviting.

He takes your chin and tilts your face, his voice soft as he confesses, “I’ve never felt so good. Not even at the thought of Mai.” You squeak in surprise, instinctively pulling away.

Xavier has decided he’s done fighting his feelings for you. The hesitation about the changes this could bring to his life—and the guilt that comes with it—is gone. He wants you more than anything, and now he’s determined to show you just how much.

As you walk side by side on patrol, his soft voice fills the air with light-hearted musings and playful teasing, yet you constantly remind yourself why you must keep your distance.

Meanwhile, Mai glares daggers from behind, trying desperately to distract Xavier at every opportunity. She attempts to hold his hand at one point, batting her lashes with a cute little pout. But he quickly pulls away, brushes your arm tenderly, and continues walking by your side. 

A warmth spreads in your heart, and you can’t help but worry about how easily he’s breaking down the walls you’ve built around yourself.

Mai’s cheerful voice grates on Xavier’s nerves as he struggles to finish his paperwork for the day. The office is empty now, and he’s itching to leave, his mind consumed with thoughts of seeing you.

Mai pulls up a chair, pretending to help him, but her true intentions are clear when she rests her hand on his thigh, continuing to write as if it’s the most natural thing. Her fingers begin their creeping ascent, and Xavier’s heart races. His body locks up, and anxiety rises as the ability to breathe leaves him. 

Mai has always been flirty, something he used to find endearing, even if it was just a ruse to keep him coming back for more. But this was more than suggestive flirtation. When she presses her lips to his for the first time, she sighs as if kissing him brings her true joy.

How many times has he longed for this? Centuries of wishing for this moment—and he feels nothing at all. 

Xavier pulls back with a pained expression, searching her beautiful eyes. He makes no move to stop her, testing how he truly feels. After so much effort and heartbreak over wanting, no, needing this and Mai, he has to be sure before giving it all up.

Her fingers trail delicately over his abs and chest. He lets her kiss him again; this time, Xavier kisses back, trying to coax out some emotion other than this empty void. Kisses trail his skin as she frees his cock, only to pull back in disbelief when she feels his lack of arousal.

He watches her with detachment as she strokes him, pouting when he remains limp in her hand. Gently stopping her as she moves to take him into her mouth, he says, “I can’t do this anymore,” his voice soft but resolute, as a weight lifts from his shoulders.

Mai narrows her eyes, her mask slipping momentarily as she murmurs, “Xavier, you don’t truly want her. You’re just so pent up after all these years that anyone will do,” her veil of teasing returns as she leans closer, urging, “Let me help. This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” 

She frees her breasts from her tank top, squeezing and tugging enticingly. This isn’t the girl he fell in love with—the gentle, kind soul that captured his heart so long ago. Over her lifetimes, she’s become cold and cruel, the alluring brightness in her eyes dimming with time. Xavier realizes he’s been chasing someone who no longer exists, a profound grief washing over him.

Taking out his phone, he finds a picture of you and shows it to Mai as she scowls. Pushing her hand away, he murmurs, “You have no idea what I want. Watch.”

Gazing at your smiling face on the screen, he begins his cock, becoming painfully hard within moments, lust shadowing his features. Mai’s eyes burn with genuine desire and jealousy, but he feels nothing for her.

Tucking himself back into his boxers and fixing his pants, he asks, “Did you throw yourself in front of that Wanderer to lure me into saving you?” This question has nagged him whenever the scene replays in his mind. 

He’s almost certain Mai wasn’t near you when he began the battle, only to find her next to you when the Wanderer attacked. The chaos made it difficult for him to be sure.

The answer becomes clear when Mai clears her throat, quickly glancing away. Nervousness plays on her features as Xavier takes on a chilling demeanor, standing and collecting his paperwork with meticulous movements. Any remaining connection to her ignites and burns away as he regards her coldly, fighting hard to maintain his composure. 

“I’ll be requesting a transfer for both her and myself. In the meantime, don’t even look in her direction,” Xavier says, his calm tone carrying an underlying warning: there will be consequences if she crosses the boundary he’s setting. Adjusting her top, shame, and embarrassment on her features, Mai watches as Xavier turns and walks away. 

Your phone pings as you slip into an oversized T-shirt, and the screen lights up with a message from Sylus: “Looks like you won the game, dove. My money was on you all along,” complete with a celebratory champagne bottle emoji.

What the heck is that supposed to mean? 

You’re about to hit the call button to get an explanation when a knock at the door reveals a rain-soaked Xavier. His eyes light with relief upon seeing you. You let him in, grabbing a towel and doing your best to help him dry off, earning a gentle smile as you fluff his hair. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pulling away and searching his face.

His fingers brush your cheek tenderly as he nods and says, “If I were to ask you to leave Linkon with me, what would you say?”

Your eyes widen as you sputter, “Um, I—like for the day?” 

He gives you a rare, genuine smile, then chuckles as he replies, “No. Like forever. Together.” He kisses you tenderly and nuzzles your nose. “We can start over somewhere new,” he whispers earnestly.

You want to believe such a thing is possible, but doubt lingers, pulling you away from his embrace. “Xavier… you don’t mean that. Mai—” 

“Is no longer part of my life,” he finishes. Gripping you by the waist and drawing you closer, he tilts your head to meet his gaze.“I don’t care how long it takes to prove it to you. I’m a very patient man,” he murmurs.

“How exactly do you plan to prove it to me?” you ask, your voice low and sensual, surprising even yourself.

You adore the way Xavier’s eyes heat up when he hears it. He hums softly, his lips brushing your ear while one arm holds you close, his fingers tracing down your arm to entwine with yours. When he kisses you this time, your body aches to melt against his, but you stand your ground, determined to make him fight for it. His tongue gently explores your mouth, groaning as he tastes you fully, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss.

He pulls back and studies you, his thumb grazing your lips, admiring how they glisten as he spreads the moisture around. “So pretty…” he murmurs, his mouth skimming the soft skin under your ear, teeth grazing lightly, sending shivers through your body.

His brows scrunch in a pout as he reaches for your hands that hang limply at your sides, “Why won’t you touch me?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.

“I’m not sure you deserve it yet,” you mumble, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I see,” he says with a hint of amusement.

Slowly, his touch travels under your shirt, teasing your nipple with light sweeps of his thumb. His mouth and hands explore every inch of your skin he can reach, worshiping you so delicately it takes your breath away. 

“Xavier?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to see you,” you admit, nervousness spilling into your voice.

Xavier’s throat bobs as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he sheds his clothing. At first, he’s hesitant, afraid you may not like what you see.

It’s a silly fear since he’s the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. Lean and slender, his body is honed by centuries of combat, the faint scars on his pale skin testifying to trials overcome. Your hungry eyes catch on his cock, so long and pretty that you moan quietly, just thinking about how good it would feel to take it.

The look of pure longing on your face instantly eases Xavier’s insecurities. His thumb sweeps over his cock, gathering beads of precum before he holds it to your mouth, a plea evident in his eyes. You want to remain strong, but the desire to taste him overpowers you. You suck it clean, your eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. His cock twitches eagerly as a strangled “fuckk, angel” escapes him, his thumb pumping deeply into your mouth as he bites his puffy lip. 

“May I see you too?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. You nod and let him pull it off, fighting the urge to cover yourself as your nipples perk in the chilly air. The way his gaze travels your body is so sensual and awe-filled that it’s almost devastating.

His hands tangle in your hair as he tilts your head, his kiss far more profound than any before. He presses you against the wall, trailing kisses down your stomach and along your inner thighs before pulling your shorts down. A groan escapes him when he sees your bare pussy. 

Instantly, he thumbs open your folds, dragging long, languid fingers through your heat before holding his hand up for you to see. “So wet,” he murmurs, rubbing it around and watching it stick to his fingers. “Is this all for me? he asks, wonder filling his voice. 

You nod, whimpering pitifully as he licks them clean, his eyes shutting in ecstasy at your taste. A desperate curse leaves him as he commands,  “Spread your legs then; I can’t let any go to waste.” You do as he says, whimpering again as his fingers trace delicate circles over your clit. “You’ve done so well for me, angel… practically dripping. You’ll feel amazing like this.” Then his tongue is deep in your cunt, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep groan against your skin that shocks your entire system. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair without hesitation, holding his face firmly in place as you grind against it. His straight nose brushes your clit with every turn of your hips, sending waves of pleasure through you. He kneels before you, and his gaze is unwavering as he slips a finger inside you, his lips and teeth teasing your slick, warm skin. Xavier loves how puffy your clit gets under his mouth and how sensitive you are to even the slightest of his touches.

He yearns to be closer to you, to be enveloped in your warmth and your scent as you cum in his mouth. Guiding you to the couch, he lies down and motions for you to come closer. “Use my face,” he commands softly, his voice laden with desire as he finishes. “I want to enjoy my meal.”

He eases you over him, his mouth inhaling you eagerly. Growing frustrated that you won’t put all your weight on him, he pushes you down so your pussy lands flush on his face. “Good girl,” he mumbles against you, urging your hips along. At first, you’re concerned about his ability to breathe, but the worry quickly vanishes as he teases your nipples and plays with your ass.

He whimpers as your fingers finally begin to trace his skin, his hips making needy pumps into the air, desperately seeking friction. Your touches are so tender, your gaze full of adoration, and a giddy smile spreads across your face at the sight of his slick-covered features.

You run your hands lovingly through his hair, the look on your face causing him to fall apart. He lets out a strangled cry that vibrates through your pussy as his cum covers his stomach. He sucks your clit harder, fingers pumping into you rapidly as you ride his face.

“Yes, yes, yess!” you shout, hand gripping his hair tightly while the other reaches around to play in his essence, coating his sensitive, twitching cock as he whimpers quietly. You can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed as you turn into an absolute slut above him. It’s just so deliciously indecent. 

He’s so sticky from his release, shimmering with sweat and the faint glow of his evol. His face and ears are flushed, your essence covering his mouth and chin. He gazes up at you with so much desire as you bring your soaked fingers to your mouth, tasting them slowly.

The moment he feels your tight walls flutter around his fingers at his taste, he replaces them with his tongue, devouring every bit of your cunt. Even after he cleans all your cum, he refuses to stop. He pulls you tighter against him, forcing your hips to move until you whine and tremble uncontrollably above him.

“T-too much, Xavier, pleasee,” you mumble desperately, tugging at his hair. He chuckles softly and sits up, letting you rest. You settle on his lap as he leans back against the sofa, giving you a gentle smile, his lips still wet and shiny. Your touch is uninhibited now, free from hesitation as your fingers map his skin. 

He’s so responsive. Just the gentlest of touches elicit the most adorable, most sensual sounds. Your fingers ghost over a perked nipple, earning a strangled groan in return. His head kicks, and his hands form tight fists as he tries to show restraint.

You meet his eyes, your voice soft as you ask, ‘Xavier… have you ever felt truly cared for and cherished before?” 

You want to cry and rage when he blushes and turns away, whispering “no” as pain briefly crosses his features. 

Cupping his face, you kiss him tenderly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. “I promise, you’ll never have to spend another day without knowing how loved you are,” you vow earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise as he silently mouths the word “love,” as if trying to see how it feels on his tongue. “No one’s ever said that word to me before,” he admits quietly.

You smile gently, meeting his gaze. “Well, try saying it out loud next time. You need to get used to it.” Your lips find his again, gentle and searching, conveying all the emotions too scary to put into words just yet. You bite and suck at his neck, teasing relentlessly when his body betrays how good it feels. 

You work a faint mark on his collarbone, admiring it with a brush of your fingers as you quietly ask, “Are you really all mine?” Your awe-filled gaze meets his. He pulls you close, cupping the nape of your neck and murmuring, “Yes,” against your lips. A smile lights up your face, mirrored by his beaming expression as he witnesses your joy.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says earnestly, brushing your hair over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes with a teasing grin and mumble, “Don’t push it,” before silencing his words by pressing your tongue into his mouth. He pulls away after a moment, biting his lip as he forces himself to be gentle, playing with your breasts. Little tugs and pinches over one nipple while the other hand traces your curves.

It’s not nearly enough.

“I won’t break, Xavier. You need to do it harder,” you plead, frustration filling your voice.  Your plea is soon replaced with a surprised, strangled cry when he murmurs, “Yes, mam,” and stuffs his mouth full, biting and sucking roughly.

His touch turns rougher, too. His fingers squeeze your ass so hard they’ll surely leave marks, complimenting the bruise blooming on the swell of your breast. 

“All mine,” he says, meeting your eyes with a teasing, confident smile as he echoes your earlier sentiment. You squeak in surprise as he grabs your thighs and presses down, sliding you along his cock, using your pussy to smear his cum around, soaking your heat and thighs in slickness.

You take over, hips moving faster, desperately seeking more of the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

“You’re so soft and warm…” you murmur dreamily, ruining him when you finish with a whimper of, “Gonna feel so good filling me up,” before burying your face in his neck as you move against him.

“Can I put it in? Please?” he begs, lifting your ass just enough to rub circles with his leaking tip at your entrance. He’s trembling, holding back the urge to fuck you roughly. Instead of answering, you lower yourself onto him, wincing as his cock stretches you open. 

He can’t take his eyes away from where you join, watching you drip down his length as he delicately rubs your clit, his eyebrows scrunched up in an adorable expression of concentration. 

“Does it hurt?’ he asks, noticing your quiet gasp of pain as you take him halfway. You nod, whimpering slightly. He leans up to kiss you, pressing down on your bottom lip and tilting your chin to meet your blissed-out gaze. “You’re still so tight, angel. I’ll open you up better next time, I promise.” He nuzzles your nose, trying to distract you from the pain as he pushes in deeper.“Can you take it for me? I-i’m almost there,” he says, his eyes trickling back down to where you suck him in.

Pleasure begins to mix seamlessly with the pain, and you don’t bother to respond, your eyes rolling back as a sigh of ecstasy leaves you. Xavier takes that as a yes and gently presses you down until he bottoms out. Desire begins to overwhelm his features as he watches your essence mix with his at the base of his cock.

He searches your eyes, kissing you softly and murmuring, “How does it feel?” 

“Honestly? Nothing has ever felt so good. So full…” you mumble, starting a slow, torturous cycle of movements. You pull him out to the tip before letting him fill you up again, over and over, until the moment comes when he finally allows himself to let go. He presses you flush against him and pushes deep inside you, setting his own much more intense pace. He spanks your ass with an adorable smile, his blue eyes shining with joy. 

You eagerly match his movements, chanting, “Harder, Xavier! Harder!” You squeal happily when he flips you onto your back, throwing your legs above your head and fucking you so much harder. A mirthful smile appears on his face as his cock pierces deep inside you, forcing out a raw, strangled cry of pleasure. Pleasure builds and crashes in an instant, your pussy gripping and pulsing so tightly around him that he can barely breathe.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over me,” he praises, stroking your clit in time with his thrusts. His pace quickens, helping you ride your release. Sloppy sounds fill the air as you spill over him, spurring him on. He grips your hips tight to keep you from sliding as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Such a good girl. You can give me another one, can’t you?” he murmurs, his weight pressing down on you, pushing his cock even deeper than before. The soft, pale hair trailing from his pelvis rubs your clit just right. His moves are deliberate, urging you to come again with a sharp cry as tears fill your eyes and your body starts to tremble. 

He kisses your cheek, his movements never slowing. “So perfect for me… Just one more, angel,” he whispers, making pointed thrusts into your g-spot over and over and over until you spill all over him again. 

He can’t seem to stop. Every orgasm he pulls from you only makes him more desperate and needy. “So fucking wet… you have no idea how good you feel,” he mumbles incoherently, burying his face in your neck and bringing you to release again just from the feeling of his warm mouth on your skin and his filthy words. 

“T-too much, Xavier, I can’t! Please!” You’re sobbing and overstimulated—a sensitive, weak mess. 

“Shh. It’s okay… It’ll be over soon. You want to show me how much you love me, right?” His tone is teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes tells you your answer means a lot to him. 

Tears fall harder as he kisses you, and you manage to choke out a strangled “yes.” 

“I know you do,” he says tenderly. His tongue pries open your mouth and softly commands, “Swallow,” as he spits into it. 

Blushing deeply,  you follow his instructions, moaning in ecstasy at the taste, which earns a pleased hum from him. He tugs on your bottom lip, admiring your blissful expression and the tears tracing your cheeks. His praises continue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. 

“Such a pretty little angel, following my instructions so well.” Another orgasm approaches alarmingly fast, feeling almost too powerful, and you wonder if your body can withstand it. Xavier seems to read your mind because he mumbles, “You can,” before fucking you even harder. 

You squirt so much that it pulls out a strangled, “Fuck, yes. You’re doing so fucking well…” from him as his cock squelches around inside you. “I–i can’t hold out much longer. You… you feel too good,” he admits softly against your lips.

 “Please, Xavier... Please cum for me, i–i’ll do anything,” you plead, needing to feel claimed by him more than you can express. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you murmur, “Do you want to finish inside?” pulling him as close as you can. 

He whimpers at your words, cradling your head against his chest as his cock continues to fuck into you mercilessly. The moment his hips stutter and he sinks into you with one last, deep thrust, his cum spills inside of you, and he captures your lips in the most tender kiss you’ve ever felt. Despite reaching his climax, he doesn’t stop. His cock pistons into you with renewed force.

With fierce determination, he pulls one final orgasm from you, his movements gradually slowing as you ride through it. As soon as he pulls back and looks at your ruined form beneath him, lust clouds his features, and his cock hardens again. Anxiety hits you over the state of your more-than-abused pussy, and you whine, “Noo, Xavier—just let me take care of you for a little while. ’m too sensitive.” 

He chuckles, scooping you up in his arms and resting back on the couch. You try to fight the arousal his hardened length pressing against your ass brings. He meets your gaze, kissing you softly and holding you close as your heartbeats grow steady. He peppers your face with gentle, searching kisses. 

“Earlier, I asked you how you felt about leaving Linkon with me,” he says, tucking hair behind your ear as nervousness plays on his face. 

“Mhmm; the forever trip,” you murmur dreamily. 

He smiles softly, meeting your gaze, and asks, “So, what’s your answer?” 

You nuzzle his nose and answer earnestly, “I’ll follow you anywhere, Xavier. Just lead the way.”

A month later, you wake up before dawn to find Sylus’s face just inches from yours, a wry grin on his lips as he glances at Xavier sleeping beside you. “I took your key away specifically to prevent this kind of thing,” you hiss, careful not to wake Xavier as you untangle yourself from his limbs and quietly climb out of bed.

You gently brush his hair back, marveling at how his smile lingers even in sleep now. The melancholy that once plagued him for centuries has vanished, replaced by a serenity brought by your affection. He often tells you that you make him feel truly happy and free for the first time in his life. 

After pulling on a robe, you follow Sylus to the kitchen, halting in your tracks when you see a brand-new laptop on the counter. “Sy, what did you do?” you ask hesitantly, eyeing the device with suspicion. He rolls his eyes and motions toward it.

“What does it look like, sweetie?” he retorts, as if that clears everything up.

“Why did you buy me a laptop, Sylus? You know I don’t like gifts…” you start, but he quickly interrupts.

“Well, you should have thought about that when you decided to move several hours away from me,” he replies. You can sense he’s happy for you and Xavier, but there’s a hint of struggle with this change in your relationship.

Drawing him close, you pinch his cheeks, enjoying the irritated glare he gives you. “You’re my best friend, Sylus. I’m not just going to up and leave you after all these years,” you assure him, giving his nose a gentle boop before turning away.

He chuckles, relaxing a fraction as he ruffles your hair and then refocuses on the task at hand. “I bought you the best one on the market. They assured me it has an excellent camera—I need to ensure that my pretty face comes through crystal clear during our video chats,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he adds, casually pulling a new, shiny smartphone from his pocket and handing it to you. “Both this and the laptop come with a tracking system that alerts me immediately if anything seems off,” he assures you, gently grasping your chin to meet your gaze. “Never hesitate to reach out for my help or just for company. I’m here for you, no matter how far away you are. Got it, dove?”

You want to tease him for being so serious, but his sincerity makes it difficult. It’s a rare and precious thing from him. With a gentle smile and tears welling up in your eyes, you pull him in for a tight hug. He freezes for a moment in surprise, but then his arms wrap around you, a smile spreading across his face as he swings you around.

When your feet settle back on the floor, the sadness has melted from his features. “The laptop has top-notch sound specs, too, so I can still sing to you when you’re feeling down,” he reassures you. It takes considerable effort to suppress the grimace that threatens to break your mask of enthusiasm.

Sylus lets out a low, knowing chuckle, easily seeing through you. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to fake that better over video,” he muses.

You grin and look around your empty home, excitement coursing through you. The transfer request with the Hunter’s Association went through almost immediately, and Xavier found a charming cottage with a small farm, plenty of bookshelves, and just enough room for the two of you. Sylus can’t help but smile at your evident joy. “Today’s the big day,” he teases.

You nod, your grin widening as he raises an eyebrow and offers a suggestive head toss. “You should wake your precious hunter now. You’ve got a lot to do,” he says.

Giggling, you pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, earning a blush that makes you laugh even harder. Then, you dash off to wake Xavier.

[witches-dream]

Warning: Ramble incoming

Here's what interests me in a potential Burning Spice redemption story, specifically the scenario in which Golden Cheese takes his Soul Jam away

First off, she can't... "Claim" it fully, she can't use its power, because she's not about Destruction, which is what his Soul Jam represents. Similarly to how Spice couldn't use her Soul Jam because he doesn't represent Abundance, and similarly to how Smoked Cheese could do fuck all with it other than ruining absolutely everything. There was a reason that the initial Soul Jams got split, and now that they are separated into their respective halves, the originals no longer exist and CAN'T exist.

So that's why if Goldie were to take Spice's Soul Jam, she'd have to store it somewhere. And I'm assuming that being far away from it weakens the connection, but then again Hollyberry was taking strolls around Beast-Yeast while her own Jam was sitting in her kingdom, so the connection is still there even when 1) the Soul Jam owners are far away and 2) they have weak spiritual connection to it (as in, each of the ancients had to reconnect with their respective lights to get their full power back).

What I'm getting at is that even if Golden Cheese takes Spice's Soul Jam and fucks off with it to the other side of Earthbread, it's not guaranteed that Spice will lose his connection with it and therefore immortality. So here's a logical continuation to this scenario.

He needs to stop representing Destruction.

If he no longer believes in his power and his worldviews, if he grows weak and gives up on everything, then his connection to his Soul Jam will weaken, he will lose his powers and then his immortality.

Another option is to destroy his Soul Jam, but 1) I'm not sure that's possible and 2) if Goldie wanted a trophy would she do this?? And if she wanted to spare Spice's life, destroying his Jam would be akin to indirectly killing him cuz he would lose immortality.

But anyway. How would you even go about making the Great Destroyer not represent Destruction anymore? With even a fraction of his power left, he'd still go after Goldie. He'd force someone to use spice magic to teleport him to Goldie's kingdom. If the Soul Jam is stored there, he'd gain his powers back just from being near it. I suppose we can introduce some sorta technology, like a barrier that blocks magic, which would prevent Spice from accessing his Soul Jam's power. But, if he's still connected to it, does that take away his immortality or what?

As long as he 1) believes in the "survival of the fittest" principle; 2) believes history repeats itself with no meaningful progression; 3) has no desire to give it a chance; 4) wants to fight Goldie and take her Jam; 5) believes that only destruction will distract him from boredom and probably 6) lots of other things, he still represents Destruction and therefore his Jam is still his. How to go about tormenting him enough to break that connection is beyond me. Heck, even if he kneels before Goldie and begs her to kill him, you can argue that's still his belief that destruction is the only way.

But i digress. I don't think that you need to think that deep for a fanfic. Cuz a fanfic is always a "what if" scenario based on what you want to see, not what would actually happen, and "what would actually happen" is subjective anyways, cuz this is a fictional story and those are inherently subjective.

I guess the conclusion of this ramble is that there's not a way, at least an easy one, where you could pull such a scenario off in a canon-compliant way. Cuz if you did, all of that ⬆️ would get in the way of the actual story you'd wanna tell. But mortal Burning Spice is too cool of an idea to not allow some creative liberties even if they're canon breaking but c'mon. Who cares about "canon" when you can have fanfic.

That's all from me, good night

[holyshonks]

At the End of the Game

A short writing contribution for Potluck 2024!

I'm kind of obsessed with the fucked up, sibling-adjacent relationship that John, Cortana, and Miranda share. I got the impression, too, that they knew each other before the awards ceremony in Halo 2, so this explores some of that.

Halsey is not the Spartans' mom, but she sacrificed her daughter to give them the care and attention she was not giving her. Cortana is not flesh-and-blood, but she came from Halsey, so what does that make her? Her sister, her daughter, her clone? Miranda should be the easiest to define, but her relationship with her mother tests the tension between biological truth, and when neglect negates any claim to parenthood. In Halsey's efforts to spare them, to keep them close and preserve them, she failed them all.

John stepped through the hall, aware of how his footsteps shook the delicate equipment even out of armor. In the bowels of the lab, he would find Halsey’s office. Typically, she could be found around a table, deep in thought, working through something with Déjà. Her office was reserved for briefings or bad news or both, and John readied himself for anything. As he turned the corner, he stopped short. 

A girl. She was short, with a brown bob and brown eyes to match, deep and severe for a child. To John, she seemed impossibly young to be in a place like this, but he could also not recall the last time he interacted with a child. John did not have a typical childhood, nor a typical adolescence. His frame of reference was skewed by his own experience as a young, augmented teen with shatter-proof bones and a body that did not match the roundness of his face. Certainly, she was too young to be military. His jaw tightened. Halsey swore that the SPARTAN-II recruiting process was a last resort. If something about that changed, he wanted to know. 

"Who are you?" the girl asked, before he could ask her the same. 

"I'm John." 

Out of habit, he nearly rattled off his rank and superlatives that the people who wanted something from him were always looking for, but she was someone different. 

"You're waiting for Halsey?" 

"Yes." You didn't tell me your name. 

"Well, wait your turn."

John’s eyebrows perked at her curt response. She was either not as young as she looked, or sharp beyond her years. She was toying with him, looking for answers that she herself wouldn't share. She knew more than him, or, at least, wanted him to think she did.  He didn't understand why she was playing mind games, but he understood them. 

"Okay," John said impassively. He was an unwilling player, but he liked to win. 

"Why are you here?" 

"Same as you," he said, nodding to the door. 

"But why? What is she to you?”

“You don’t know?” The ghost of a smirk tugged the side of his mouth. 

She frowned. She got down here somewhere, knew more than a civilian would. But she didn’t know everything.

"What makes you so special?" 

John half swallowed. He knew the response he was supposed to give, been trained to give. If she were military, he would tell her it was classified and move on. But she was not military, not quite a civilian. She was something else that he couldn’t place, and until he recognized the theater he was in, a typical answer wouldn’t work. 

"I'm not sure what you mean,” he replied, still probing. 

"Why you? Over me?" 

His brows notched. This was getting stranger. "Who are you?" 

The words came out before he could stop them. She opened her mouth to speak, but the door to Halsey’s office slid open. If it weren’t for his augmentations, John wouldn’t have noticed how Dr. Catherine Halsey stiffened in the doorway. Her lab coat seemed to swallow her more every time he saw her, despite her larger-than-life reputation. 

"Miranda." Dr. Halsey blanched. "John."

The girl—Miranda—unceremoniously handed over a data pad. Haltingly, Dr. Halsey took it from her. 

"Permission slip. I need you to sign before I go back home."

Halsey read over the data pad. 

"Harmony? For two weeks?" 

"It's camp. Lots of people do it."

"And your father?"

"He won't be home when I get back."

Halsey's gaze shifted up and to the left, remembering. Then she shook her head. "Harmony is too far. There was a Covenant freighter detected in that system two years ago. It's not safe."

"Because of one ship, two years ago?"

"One ship that we know of."

"You’re making excuses. You just like telling me no.” Miranda’s cheeks began to redden. Her lips curled over her teeth. 

Halsey's eyes flickered to John. "Why don't you come inside? We can talk—."

"What difference does it make to you?" Miranda interrupted. "If I'm gone on Harmony or I'm gone with dad, I'm still gone. If you wanted to control me, you shouldn’t have given me away."

The doctor flinched like she'd been stricken. The girl crossed her arms, and John noticed something strikingly familiar about the challenge in her eyes.

"That's different,”  Halsey murmured. “At least I know you're safe with your father." 

John remembered. It was Jorge who noticed first, though he was never one for gossip. He’d kept it to himself until the tension and paranoia in the lead up to their augmentations began to eclipse reason–as the date drew nearer,  the trainees had begun to murmur about Halsey’s absence. Some attributed it to shame, that she knew the augs would fail, and that she could not face them. But Jorge was one of the oldest Spartans. He had—or used to have—a younger sister, and he remembered the way his mother looked, in those days. 

"Are you signing?" 

John had seen Dr. Halsey stand up to men twice her size, to ONI, to admirals with chips on their shoulders. She never hesitated to bite back at her rivals, or to defend her position. But her hands trembled as she signed her name on the dotted line. The moment she handed the data pad back, Miranda turned to leave. 

She regarded John for a moment. “Being her favorite isn’t what you think it is.” 

Before John could respond, she was on her way. 

"Miranda," Halsey called, "I want to keep discussing this. When do you go back?" 

"You don't know?" She rounded the corner, and disappeared. 

John and Halsey were left in silence. He swallowed. He wasn’t equipped for this. He should have excused himself the moment they started speaking, but something kept him there. Halsey seemed more vulnerable here than in a war zone. 

"I apologize, John. I...I didn't think that would go that way." Halsey’s mouth pulled into a tight line, regaining her composure. "Come in."

The room was too small, but it was all they could spare, given the circumstances. Johnson came up with some excuse. A quick briefing, and then back to the aftermath of Halo’s destruction. The briefing before the briefing, really, which Lord Hood pretended he was unaware of. The truth before she was given ONI’s version, a version she would see right through, John was sure. His shirt collar pinched the sides of his neck, his dress uniform too starch-stiff to tug loose. It was uncomfortable. It was the least he could do.

John let Cortana do the talking. She knew the most, and besides, she was always better with words. Miranda Keyes stared into Cortana’s avatar. The blue light reflected off her face, revealing shadows beneath her eyes. She hadn't said anything while the artificial intelligence recounted what happened on the Halo ring. What happened to Captain Keyes. What happened to her father. Instead, her erudite gaze passed between Cortana and John.

"Your father was a hero. Is a hero," Cortana concluded.

Long silence stretched between them. Despite what she'd just been told, her expression remained cool and unblinking. After tense seconds, Miranda leaned over the table, fingers clasped.

"Another one of my mother's pawns, aren’t you?" she breathed, nodding at Cortana.

Cortana's hologram flickered. When she reappeared, she stood straighter. The binary code that made up her image rushed down in rivulets.

"Ma'am?"

"That's okay," Miranda said, regarding them both. "I am, too."

[billysgirllol]

“mhm.” got what from his mother? being entirely wrong and insane? “hard to believe you did that.” the songbird muses, bitterly thinking how he has no heart for himself let alone anyone else. “last i checked…tigris, you and grandma’am all shared a condo. the snow penthouse.” lucy gray reminds since he’s out of his mind and can’t even think for himself. “you never spoke highly about your grandmother even back then. and she didn’t take a likin’ to me much either, so that makes sense.” of all things, he does seem to remember this information about his hateful grandma. “except— you did. you did attack me first in the woods the last time. so i came prepared this time.” dumbass, she bites her tongue from blurting that last word like she almost does. “lucy. my full name is lucy gray, you know that.” annoyingly glaring off to the side, “i don’t know what you meant before.” because at times, she was using him too— in the beginning. a part of her did spark care and love in her heart for him, there was a glimmer of it but it didn’t engulf her because she knew something wasn’t honest about him. she knew something was OFF. those bad feelings extinguished any forming burning love in her chest for him the second she began to sense those red flags arise, even long before he started shooting at her or lied to her. it’s complicated on how to put it in words, because at times her heart did flutter when he was kind to her and kind to maude ivory. when they exchanged kisses and that day at the lake— but all of that died and to her, he very well could’ve just been faking it all which makes it easier to pretend those feelings never happened. “course i cared for you, but i began realizin’ you aren’t the noble person i thought you were and i don’t go for people like that. a liar with a bad heart is a quick way to turn me off.” so in other words, no, she doesn’t have feelings for him anymore. if his kind acts were genuine like the acts he’s doing now, then she certainly would’ve changed her mind. it’s a weird feeling, seeing him be nice to her, it serves to irritate her even more because she would’ve liked coriolanus to be this person but instead he was a monster. is a monster. “there’s one on my upper arm,” covered by her sleeve on her left arm, “and a few cuts on my legs. but those’ll be fine...” she claims even though they aren’t as she watches him slip the sock onto her foot.

“i wish i knew.” wishin’ she knew why so many born in the capitol are so heartless, tigris may be the only one that isn’t. “must be where you get it from, then.” his father. “tigris is alive, you should know…” the brunette mumbles, hands nervously raking through her damp curls. “well, that is rude cause i never attacked you first. you killed people, lied about who you killed, was goin’ to kill me. don’t act like you’re the innocent one here.” lucy gray bitterly speaks, brows creasing at him in anger. sounds like coriolanus lives beneath there, after all, it looks like. “i attacked you because you tried to shoot me a thousand times the last time we saw each other. ‘course i attacked you.” a scoff sounds from her, irritably watching him come closer. “i don’t mean anything to him. to you.” growing frustrated he almost keeps getting away with tricking her like he wants. it’s bizarre how alike he is to coriolanus but isn’t coriolanus. except, he is— cause that’s all a lie. “i won’t if you don’t try killin’ me first.” she mumbles, keeping her knife right behind her, sitting on it. saying that just to flinch when his hand wraps around her ankle, feeling like he’s trying to restrain her, capture her or something but realizing he’s just moving her foot to the water. what an even weirder image this is… coriolanus taking care of her blisters and weirdly caring about the state of her skin. staring and staring… trying to figure him out. different mannerisms, different hair color, different clothing. but the same face and the same hands with just more wear and tear to his callouses, probably all designed to throw her off guard like her mind is currently doing… spinning. peering into his eyes is what’s so haunting most of all.

[lil-oreo-crumbles]

SVTFOE fandom what’s one small, obscure detail about the show you think about an awful lot for no good reason that you firmly believe no one else thinks about half as much as you do, if at all? (When I say obscure I MEAN obscure)

I’ll go first:

Comet Butterfly was probably the one who hired Dr. Jelly Goodwell as the Royal Monster Expert.

The Butterfly family probably didn’t have a “Royal Monster Expert” before Comet. Estrella didn’t care for politics or queenly duties, Celena was busy with whatever she was dealing with and also didn’t pay much mind to the Monster situation, Rhina was preoccupied with her spells, riddles, and marital situations, and Crescenta “solved” (she didn’t) the “Monster problem” with her rigged election campaign. Why would she hire a “Royal Monster Expert”?? She’s actively a horrible person, It doesn’t make sense why she or any other Butterfly would make a position to “field study” Monsters.

What does make sense is Comet designing that position in the early days of her ���peace” agenda. Making an “attempt” to understand them enough so she can figure out how to go about conducting her “peace” treaty. Jelly Goodwell is very fond of separating Mewmans and Monsters from each other because “when Mewmans and Monsters cohabitate bad things happen, usually to the Monsters.” If we go off my theory that the Mewman-Monster Accord Moon signed into law reflects (or basically is) Comet’s treaty, then the separation statement makes sense.

Even if the title of “Royal Monster Expert” existed for a while, Comet without a doubt (in my mind) hired Jelly Goodwell. If she’d been “studying” monsters her whole life like she claims, then it makes perfect sense that she was hired back when she was young. Comet would be around her age if she was alive so it only makes sense that Comet was the one who hired her and designated the position. And, again, bringing back her treaty, if Comet and Goodwell worked together in any way, then both of their agendas being separation makes complete sense. Comet hired someone to “field study” Monsters, Goodwell reported back with her findings, and Comet conducted her treaty and dealings with monsters accordingly.

Comet has always just given me the same vibes Goodwell does; they’re like glass reflections of one another. On the surface they look like they actively want to help actually make progress for the impoverished and colonized monster citizens, smiling and playing nice, but patronize them as literal animals (see Comet’s FAMOUS “beast of the forest” line and her patronizing of Seth and Batwin’s wife… or just read her chapter holy shit), refuse to take any of them seriously as equals, and think separating them from Mewmans is the best call.

(To clarify because I feel this being brought up: NO, I’m not saying Goodwell influenced Comet and am now taking blame away from Comet. No, if anything Goodwell’s “angle of research” was probably thrust upon her by Comet (think a “Dr. Goodwell, why don’t you study their mannerisms and habitat so we can communicate with them on their level” line from Comet), and Goodwell reported back with the agenda she was sent out with. If anything, those “findings” only reaffirmed and strengthened Comet’s established bias. I’m not one of those people who take away accountability from the queens because I think they were “influenced” Comet is pretty stupid already 😭)

[maxgicalgirl]

I’m not going to lie I’m like really stuck and don’t know what to do with my feelings about All Of This. I dont have therapy until next week and they don’t have space to move me up and I dont really have anyone else to talk through how I feel ? I dont know what to do.

[glindyupland]

I just think it’s silly that so many people complain about Villain Amaya as “wasted potential” and that “we were robbed” like-

My pals, post canon fan fiction is right there. The desire to free her husband is right there. Either by touching an evil book while being too eager to remember the obsidian oil, or being possessed by contact (ie what she believes is true loves kiss) when trying to reason with him in the dungeon.

We don’t need a rewrite, we can have a continuation. Both can be true. Amaya is a complex character, she can handle it.

[ragana62]

I have always thought that not only would Corlys have 100% backed her if she decided she wanted to fight for her claim, but probably already had plans in motion to support her in doing so even before the council had concluded. Probably even before it had commenced. Honestly, he very well could have started the planning the day he walked out of the Small Council when she was passed over for Baelon.

He’s not an idiot. The odds of her claim, or her son’s claim, being accepted over Viserys’s claim were relatively slim once it came down to the council instead of just a family matter. Even if she had been chosen, the odds that some Lords might take issue with the idea of swearing loyalty to a Queen who threatened to undermine their own claims to their seats/future succession lines by her very existence were never zero. Either way, there’s a very real hypothetical future war there that will take some careful maneuvering, because they do have ships and a dragon and loyal banners to help support the claim, but so does most any other hypothetical faction in that conflict. It would be stupid not to plan accordingly.

That war probably wasn’t 100% hypothetical the night the verdict was read, in my opinion, particularly when there were such strong (and tbh easily offended/insulted) personalities like Corlys and her Baratheon kin supporting her. I don’t think it’s a matter of “Rhaenys could have fought for her claim, but decided not to and that shows her priorities and temperament vs. some of her kin’s priorities and temperament”. I think there was a moment where she walked into a room prepared to have to face pity and was met instead with a war table, with maps, with strategies, with men already planning her war for her and she had to say “no, I’m upset, but I’m not going to kill my cousins over this, I’m not going to burn the realm for this, I’m not going to endanger my own children over this, etc.”, and do so in a manner that forced them to listen to her over their pride.

For me, that’s also a lot more powerful. It’s not a simple “oh I care more about my family than I do my own power” or even an “I’m clever enough to know it wouldn’t be good for anyone to burn half our crops and kill half the houses in the kingdoms only ~100 years after the conquerors did it and rule over the ashes to spare my pride”. It’s a “I chose to wield my power, the same power that makes me qualified for the very throne I was just denied, not to take the throne, but to actively prevent others for taking it for me because I am intelligent and compassionate enough to know it won’t be worth it when the dust settles.”.

I think Viserys and Daemon know that, or at least that Rhaenys could very easily have gone to war over it. Daemon was raising an army of his own during the council to support Viserys, that’s not something you do if you aren’t expecting a fight after. Something tells me, if Rhaenys had to actively stop the war instead of just saying “not worth it, let’s go home” before the plans were made, they don’t know that. For Daemon in particular, it shows weakness on her part, it shows she never was meant to be on the throne BECAUSE she wouldn’t fight for it, it shows she is hampered by things like sentimentality that keep her from doing what she needs to do, and that shows in how he interacts with her years after. Viserys I think has a better sense of it, or at least is sentimental enough himself to respect and be grateful for what he sees as a choice to prioritize family over personal gain. That also clearly shows in how he views her and interacts with her.

Not to go full conspiracy theorist with this, but I think that there are elements of that hypothetical war in Rhaenyra’s real war. The blockade of the gullet at the very least is too immediate to have not been a hypothetical sitting out there that just needed the word to implement. I also think that her efforts (in the show at least) to try and circumvent the war show that Rhaenys knows this is very much just her war pushed back a few decades with the cast of players shuffled slightly and even more dragons in play to raise the stakes. Both philosophically (eldest daughter/daughter of the eldest son who was raised being told the throne would be hers one day vs. younger son/son of the younger son who is at the very least a bit reluctant or ill suited to the job but is still somewhat preferred by many for reasons utterly unrelated to job performance) and practically (Rhaenyra is surrounded by people who want this war, not necessarily because they believe in her or her claim, but because they think supporting her and winning it puts them in a better position than they could have joining the opposition whether that’s through existing ties of blood or marriage or just because they can get a higher position in the Black council than the Green one at this stage and hope to leverage it or else simply settle a score of their own through the war. Rhaenys absolutely was as well even if my head cannon is entirely bullshit).

Insisting on one final attempt at negotiation (because while there is no case to justify calling Rhaenyra going in person to King’s Landing to have a little chat with Alicent in the show a good choice, “hey, I know for a fact they aren’t all all in on the war, diplomacy isn’t weakness if it saves lives and gets results” absolutely is sound council and something Rhaenyra isn’t hearing from her other councilors) can be seen as more sentimentality, more weakness. Daemon certainly sees it as such at times. Coming from someone who only a few decades prior was in the exact same position and had to pull the realm back from the brink of war herself, it also reads as “Look, I know exactly how some of these strong personalities think, that so many of these people would be happy to wage war for their own pride and ambition through you and your younger brother, and it will be horrible and costly if you let them. I see your hesitation, I see hesitation in some of your opposition. Make sure it is worth it, that it is what YOU want, and that there isn’t another way forward, before you turn them loose. Don’t go to war just because Daemon wants to fight or because it seems like there is no other way forward with all these people whispering in your ear that it is inevitable and necessary.”

I think it’s easy to write Rhaenys off as “oh, she’s just the motherly voice of compassion and reason”, in part because that is very much what her family tends to do with her as well. And she is that, at times. It’s also easy to take some of her girlboss lines from the show and her temper from the book and turn her into some bitter and angry person who only joins Rhaenyra’s war to settle her own scores of lingering resentment. She can also be that at times. But I think, on a fundamental level, what she is, is aware. Aware of the people around her and what they assume about both her and each other, aware of the fact that nothing is ever so simple as a Rhaenyra vs Aegon conflict when there are too many other voices in the council rooms who all want something of their own, aware that it is all a game at the end of the day and that like all games, there are different ways to play it and different prizes to aim for instead of it needing to be entirely all or nothing. Whether that’s taking one look at Rhaenyra and saying “you don’t actually want a war, you are hurt and you want freedom” or at Daemon to say “really, he could do without the fancy chair and crown so long as he doesn’t have to kneel and submit himself before whoever does have them, which is probably why he’s so bad at actually being in charge of most anything without getting bored or annoyed”, or taking one look at both councils and recognizing that this is their war more than either claimant’s and that if that is true there might be another way out of it once again.

She listens more than she speaks, because she knows that all speaking accomplishes is giving your claimed allies and potential enemies leverage, and that people will give away a lot when they don’t see the person in the room with them as a potential threat, or indeed even see them at all. She preaches diplomacy over combat, not because she can’t fight when required, but because she knows what battles cost and that it’s not always worth it.

It’s easy to forget (particularly because it’s not even mentioned in the show), that the whole reason the council was necessary in the first place, was because her father was killed in a war when she herself was young and pregnant and her uncle was named heir in her place before dying himself, are you really expecting me to believe she didn’t take one look at Rhaenyra on Dragonstone, losing Visenya in her grief over her father, and have to take a moment to push down the complicated emotions that brought up? Her own grief for her father and the life she could have had had he lived, the grief of losing her own children, her frustration that once again a princess was being so easily cast aside and the bitterness that even if she repeats a million times over it doesn’t bother her anymore, it still does bother her, just a little bit, when the old wound is opened again in just the right way?

So when Rhaenyra finds herself surrounded by hotheaded lords all pushing her to raise armies and burn the realm for her throne, and Rhaenys watches as she loses another child to the war almost immediately, ignores her own grief to try and present something akin to the powerful front she thinks is expected of her only to find herself still struggling to be seen or heard by the very people who claim to be doing all of this for her, of course it’s personal. Even if her grandchildren weren’t caught up in all of it, if there wasn’t a risk that either faction saw a refusal to pick sides from her as a liability and tried to eliminate her as a potential third claimant, I think she’d have been on Dragonstone to at least advise Rhaenyra if not lend her practical support. At the end of the day, it’s still her war, even if it’s no longer her name being shouted in the battle cries, at least in her mind. If it is going to be fought this time, with so little personally left to lose, she’s determined to fight it herself.

You know had Rhaenys wanted to, she could have started a war over her own claim. Corlys would have 100% backed his wife and they do have a fleet and dragons etc. But the fact that she didn’t shows her fundamental character imo.

[wishesofeternity]

"Antiochos’ and Stratonike’s activities in the eastern part of the [Seleukid] empire are largely shrouded in mystery, but, as Engels has argued, Antiochos was far from idle since he embarked on a large building programme and was active in securing the frontier. There is some evidence to suggest that his new bride accompanied him for much of this period. We can perhaps identify Stratonike’s presence with her new husband in the Upper Satrapies through the gold coinage minted in Susa and Baktria in c . 287. The two gold coin sets are of the same type, the obverse features the laureate head of Apollo facing right and the reverse features Artemis in an elephant biga facing left with the legend ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ ΣΕΛΕΥΚΟΥ in exergue.

Figure 1: Coin of Seleukos I from Baktria Depicting Apollo on the Obverse and Artemis with Elephant Biga on the Reverse (Houghton and Lorber 2002, SC I no. 163).

Figure 2: Coin of Seleukos I from Baktria Depicting Apollo on the Obverse and Artemis with Elephant Biga on the Reverse (Houghton and Lorber 2002, SC I no. 257).

The reverse image of Artemis in the elephant biga is within the same design type as a large range of other coinage issued by Seleukos I celebrating the success of his elephants and thus his eastern campaigns. The appearance of Artemis is however unique to these coin types. This suggests the emphasis on the close links between the twin gods, Artemis and Apollo, depicted on the obverse and reverse of this coinage . Since there appears to be as a close link between Apollo and Antiochos as there is between Zeus and Seleukos, the presence of Artemis could be seen as a symbol for Stratonike. This would create a series of parallels: Seleukos/Zeus, Antiochos/Apollo, and Stratonike/Artemis. The first two reflect what we see for these two kings at the list of priests of Seleukid kings in Seleukeia in Pieria . Additionally, it may be notable that the sister-wife ideology [...] appears to be evident later in the reign of Antiochos.

As all of the Apollo/Artemis cointypes were produced on high value gold coinage, this suggests that it was issued in order to commemorate a significant event. While the type was similar to other Seleukid coinage, the shift from Athena to Artemis was clearly discernible and unique. The arrival of the new joint-King and Queen in the region to take up residence would have been a suitable moment for the issuing of the new coin type. This advertisement of their new rule certainly falls in line with Seleukos’ wedding speech which confirmed their new roles."

-David Engels & Kyle Erickson, "Apama and Stratonike – Marriage and Legitimacy", "Seleukid Royal Women" (edited by Edited by Altay Coşkun and Alex McAuley). The pictures of the coins are screenshots from the book.

[fuzzbuns]

Arlecchino discourse is really awkward because both sides are so convinced they are right and that the other side just lacks media literacy but 9 times out of 10 the take in question is also wrong and it leaves me scratching my head a little bit….

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

i see anti-jonerys

i block

[verseandrhyme]

"ARE YOU STUPID!?" Mitama shrieks, turning on her heel. "Did all those battles rattle your brain so severely that you cannot even think for a gods forsaken minute!? Because I cannot believe someone can so intentionally misconstrue everything I say, every time!"

This is worse than talking to her father. At least there is a trail of logic in what her father says.

"I am not a leader! I am a nobody shrine maiden, fighting at other people's will! It does not matter if I care for the fools who end up under my spells, only that I heal them well! That is my duty, regardless of flag or army or personal feelings! And unless you intend to wound a student to prove a point, I will not have you baselessly claiming I do not do my task well!"

She feels lightheaded. She feels the on-comings of a headache. She feels like she never wants to speak to a member of the Blue Lions again.

"I was not talking about the peace of Fodlan! I was talking about my peace! My right to live how I want! 16 years of my life have been sacrificed to war, do not preach to me about what is earned and enjoyed through the labors of others! I know what war takes from people, and if Fodlan's methods are failing to bring it a peace that is not fragile, maybe it should try something else!"

As if it is her fault the monastery cares more for maintaining power than dispatching threats. As if it is her fault Fodlan's past is so distasteful to its neighbors that it cannot find true peace.

"Do you expect your healers to lead the charge to capture forts? Do you expect your pegasus knights to march through the mud? Do you expect archers and mages to stand at the forefront? Because if you think every exercise and every strategy applies to every soldier, perhaps that is why Fodlan needs to constantly fight!"

She laughs. Spiteful. Leaning back on her heels, she throws her hands in the air. "Oh, yes. Because the attitude of a single commoner is as bad as those privileged few heirs who will actually be allowed a seat at the table. At least I know Hoshido's prince has a heart."

She is tired. She is cold and wet and miserable. She wants a nap. Mitama glares at him and scoffs. "A single blizzard spell sent you falling to your knees and you mock me for a lack of ingenuity?" She rolls her eyes. "Are you finished? Or do you intend to waste more of my time?"

the battle of mud and flags

[dontmeanyoudontmissit]

So anyways my plan for the next two months is to kickass at work while I get another job and then leave their asses.

[viksalos]

it's like actually hilarious that now that i'm learning to communicate with my graduate advisor, *she's* actually better at figuring out when i'm struggling mentally and helping me to calm down and find support, than certain "friends" who now seem to be threatened by my increased self-awareness and expertise on certain topics to the point that when i COME TO THEM struggling and asking for help, they fixate on their own insecurities and berate me for it rather than... fucking helping me or anything

[jentlemahae]

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