#outside of my infusion at least

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I need to do my daily paperwork, I need to charge my phone, I need to eat something, I need to lay down before I collapse, I need to relax before my head explodes, I need to take a shower and wash my clothes for next week, I need to do my physio routine so my body doesn't lock up worse, I need to refill my water, I need to go pee, good fucking god no goddamn wonder I can barely keep my shit together I have been awake for FOUR HOURS and I only have seven hours until I go back to bed????

[moonstruckme]

Hi love, if you're up to it could you write about bf Sirius teasing reader about something, and it actually hurts her feelings quite a lot? maybe she's always thought she's to shy for him, and he teases her about being quiet and it just hurts so much that he sees her just like everyone else does? like she thought he understood her, but instead he's teasing her about something she's rlly insecure abt ?

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: reader has leg hair

Sirius Black x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You hear Sirius’ ruckus before he’s anywhere near you. Down the hall, shouting and laughter, and then your boyfriend’s voice: “Yeah, I’m on the lookout for my bird. She likes to hide herself away, let me know if you see her?” 

Your face warms, humiliation a prickly, unpleasant thing beneath your skin. The kinder part of you thinks for a second to stick your head out into the hallway so he can stop looking for you, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. A few seconds more, and it doesn’t matter. Sirius twists the handle of the door to your refuge, his amused gray eyes finding you in an instant. 

“Hey there, sweetness.” His voice is smooth and easy. He closes the door behind him, settling down across from you on the carpeted floor like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Lily told me you went to go get another drink, but I think you might’ve gotten turned around. The kitchen’s just down the hall.” 

“Took a wrong turn,” you say sheepishly. Sirius only smiles. 

“My shy girl,” he croons, reaching forward and brushing his thumb over the soft hairs just below your kneecap. “If you were nervous, you could’ve just come and found me, sweet thing. I told you where I’d be.” 

He had, but you couldn’t have gone to him. You already feel like such a child. 

Sirius had been obviously thrilled with how well you were getting on with his friends tonight. It wasn’t like you hadn’t met them before, but this time Sirius had intentionally maneuvered you so you’d sat closest to Lily and Remus, the least obtrusive of his lot, and it had been going well. You’d been contributing to the conversation more than you were used to, encouraged by Lily and Remus’ gentle friendliness and your boyfriend’s pleased looks. After a while, James had cajoled the majority of the group into playing beer pong in the other room. Remus had stood to go, and Sirius with him, pulling his hand from yours and checking you’d be okay if he left you with Lily. 

The way he’d asked it, “Think you can manage on your own for a bit, gorgeous?” all light and teasing and infused with laughter, you’d had no choice but to say yes. Even if you suddenly didn’t feel very confident you could manage, and in the end, you hadn't. 

You’d let Sirius’ silly, thoughtless question get to you. Lily hadn’t even seemed to notice what he’d said, but your face had burned all the way to the tips of your ears, and all her kind, patient attempts at conversation were wasted on you. You forgot what you were going to say, stumbled over your words, apologized and awkward-laughed until you’d finally said you were going for another drink and not come back. You’d found this, a guest bedroom as far as you can tell, and hunkered down. You really hope she hasn’t taken it personally. 

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you tell Sirius now, your voice so soft it’s a miracle he hears. Outside of your sanctuary, the music turns up and shouting begins, the lyrics to a song everyone knows but you. 

“You could never bother me,” he promises. He’s lowered his volume to match yours. “I know how you get.” 

Shame burns hot and painful behind your eyes. “It’s not—” your voice catches, and Sirius’ thumb stills on your knee. You try again. “It’s not something I do on purpose.” 

“Hey, I know.” He scoots closer to you, setting his hands on your tented knees and propping his chin atop them so he’s looking at your face with just a few inches between you. His eyebrows are furrowed. “I know, sweetness. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, you know? Just that I don’t mind taking care of you when you’re feeling nervous or anything like that. You can always come find me.” 

It’s hard to avoid Sirius’ gaze when he’s this close, but you manage, looking down at the carpet past your thigh. “It felt a little bit like you minded when you left to go with James and Remus,” you say quietly. 

He tilts his head, steadfast in his eye contact even if you won’t reciprocate. It feels like he’s taking an inventory of your reactions as they flit across your face. You wish you were better at hiding them from him. “That upset you?” he asks, genuinely curious. “You wanted me to stay?” 

“No,” you say. “Well, yes, but that’s not…it didn’t upset me. You shouldn’t need to stay with me all of the time.” 

“I don’t mind,” Sirius interjects. 

You look up, and he rewards you with a half-happy uptilt of his lips. His expression is kind and open now, not a lick of teasing about him. 

“I don’t need you to stay with me,” you clarify. “It was just the way you asked. It made it sound like I can’t manage without you.” 

“Oh.” Sirius’ brows twitch together, recalling. One of his pinkies starts to stroke absentmindedly up and down on your thigh. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Did I embarrass you?” 

“A little,” you whisper, shoulders hunching as your body tries to shrink away from him. “But it’s more that I didn’t realize you thought that.” 

“I don’t,” he says quickly, voice soft but ardent. “I really don’t, honestly. It was a joke, I was just…I was being stupid. I shouldn’t have made light of it. I know you’re fine on your own, angel, that was just my dumb way of trying to ask if you wanted me to stay and trying to keep it light. I wasn’t trying to tease you.”  

You tug on your bottom lip with your teeth. “It’s okay if you meant it,” you say.

“I didn’t,” Sirius promises. “Really, I swear. Can I—can I touch you? Say no if you don’t want it.” 

“You’re already touching me.” Some amusement makes its way into your tone. Sirius smiles, but doesn’t move until you say, “Yeah, you can.” 

His hands plant themselves on either side of your face, and then he’s jamming your knees apart with his torso, stamping his lips to your face. 

“M’sorry, my sweet girl,” he mumbles, mushing the words into the side of your nose. “I was being a prat, and I’m sorry. I can’t believe I made you feel bad.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling now. Your face is still burning hot, but the cause of that warmth is growing murky. 

“No, it wasn’t nice to make fun.” He pulls back, fondness mingling with solemnity in his gray irises. “I didn’t realize it’d come off that way, but I won’t do it again, I mean it.” 

“Thanks,” you reply just as sincerely. “I’m okay now, really.” 

“Yeah?” He kisses between your brows. “Okay enough to go back out there, or do you wanna go home?” 

You think on this for a minute. “I should probably talk to Lily for a bit before leaving. I feel bad for abandoning her.” 

“She��s alright, gorgeous,” Sirius reassures you, but offers you his hands. You take them, and he hoists you up. “We’ll grab you a drink on the way, say you got sidetracked. I mean, that’s basically what happened.” 

You roll your eyes, leaning into his side as he starts for the kitchen.

[starcurtain]

A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

[hoseoksluna]

INFINITY | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k

summary: your birthdays have never been happy until jungkook became your boyfriend.

note: IT'S MY BIRTHDAYYYYYY. and i wrote this little light fic in just a day for the occasion. no smut, just pure fluff and cuteness. i want you all to go back and read this fic on your own bday and imagine you have such an amazing bf like jk:( enjoy! i love you guys. MWAH.

He was supposed to be here. 

Or at least that’s what your brain kept telling you throughout the longest workday of your life as your fingers tapped away on the keyboard and you used your sweet sing-song voice to talk to customers—something you do five, sometimes six days a week, although today was different. 

Today was your birthday. 

A pitifully miserable day that celebrates the moment you came into this world, only to realize, fifteen years later, that you don’t fit in—that it doesn’t have a place for you, where you belong and where you can be happy. A wretched day that your mom doesn’t want to celebrate because the preparations stress her out and because she thinks your family doesn’t really like you and she doesn’t want you to get sad, when they buy you gifts that are disappointing. 

As if that mattered. As if you didn’t love your family enough that the gifts aren’t what’s important about this day. 

This year shall be different, though. For the first time in your life you have a serious boyfriend that you’ve been with for a whole year now. A round but tall and muscular boyfriend. A Harley-Davidson driving, gold Marlboro-smoking boyfriend that you met a day after your birthday that should’ve been special but wasn’t. You spent it in tears because your mom made you feel guilty about wanting to celebrate it with your family, so you went out the following night with your girls to get drunk, go forget and met this man outside the bar that smoked alone and smiled at you a bit too often whenever you felt his gaze and turned around, your arm half-bent in the air, the cigarette smoke of your own swirling around your shivering form from the cold and the dull excitement that you caught the attention of someone so attractive and adorable at the same time. 

The way his eyes glinted in the yellow lights, starry and tender, as if they had never seen the ugly in this world—or perhaps they have, but they never accepted it. 

The way they rounded even more when you met them with your own, and the way his mouth parted because he seemingly couldn’t believe that you would notice him. 

Your friends knew something you did, innerly, as well—that this man was special and that he was yours. Your best friend, the mom of the friend group, stubbed her cigarette and leaned inside the waterfall of your hair and instructed you what to do. 

Stay here and have another cig. We’re going inside. 

You felt that it was the right thing to do, and so you smiled and you nodded. Your best friend patted your head, smirked to herself and left without any other word. 

You lit up another cigarette. 

And Jungkook… he was a moth, transfixed by the flame, gravitating towards you and sparking up a conversation about the happy birthday headband you were wearing. And you stayed there with him until your fingers were numb with the iciness of the night and until you ran out of cigarettes. 

But you didn’t go back to your friends all empty. 

Jungkook slid two Marlboros of his own into your pack, infiltrated hope into your heart by talking to you so gently and so purely—a hope in a better life and a better world and a better birthday, and infused your lungs with poetry by the way he looked at you. 

Like you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

And a month later, after many dates, you had a taste of infinity on his lips. The infinity of the universe, of the world, of the love that had been brewing in you for him. The infinity of life that likes you, that had mercy on you and gave you someone like him. You had shared that with him on many occasions, but the first time he heard it, he sobbed into your hands. And just like you knew it then that he was yours, you couldn’t doubt it at that moment. 

He was engraved into your veins, written on the page that has your name within the Book of Life. 

And now, a year later, you ponder the hope that has not left the chambers of your heart since that fateful night as you enter your dark, deserted apartment that carries his scent but not his presence. 

You expected him to be here, waiting for you to come home after your afternoon shift. Your manager let you leave a half an hour early, an information you texted your boyfriend as soon as you received it, but now as you click on your messages with him, you perceive that he hasn’t even seen it. 

It hasn’t even been delivered. Only sent. 

Your heart cracks. The infinity thins out. You throw your brown leather purse onto the ground and try, with all your might, to keep your emotions at bay. The words of your mother flood your brain and your spine rounds at the heft of its innermore truth, your tiredness due to your long workday helping, breaking your back until you walk upon the debris of your own bones. 

So much for having hope. So much for believing that you could be loved by those closest to you. Why is this happening to you? Why do you have to be so eternally sad? Having the wholeness of the world against you as if you were nothing, as if you weren’t a human being deserving of love—

The rapid railroad of your thoughts is halted by the three-seconds long beeping of your passcode being accepted and when you turn around, the world you thought was against you turns to face you, ready to immerse you in its kindness. 

Jungkook enters. And it’s not a bouquet of flowers, whose petals graze against his sweaty temple. No, it’s a humongous pot of a white orchid that swallows all light of the room, only to spit it back down your throat when Jungkook crosses the distance and kisses you until your mind gets woozy, spinning around and around. 

A hard, alarming kiss that contains many, many questions. 

The light mends your heart, the softness of his lips, despite the harshness of the long peck, gluing all those broken parts together, and your lungs bloom with new flowers of poetry that he’s more than capable of taking care of in you. His free hand grips your waist, intensifying the questions in the kiss and when he pulls back, they thump in his big, round eyes that are never brown, but endlessly black. 

They thump so vivaciously that they plunge out of his mouth almost immediately. 

“Where were you? I waited for you outside of your work. I wanted to pick you up,” he says, panting, so out of breath as if he ran all the way here and broke a sweat. A bead of perspiration trickles down his other temple—and there, behind his ear, you notice a singular cigarette with a brown butt. 

Gold Marlboro. 

The sight is an electricity that drives life into your heart, making it beat as if it was never broken in the first place. 

Your lips are dry, your throat parched, and you think you need another one of his kisses. As a matter of fact, that’s all you want. His kisses, his sweat, his warm presence. 

Him. 

“My manager let me go home half an hour early,” you explain, gripping the hand that holds you, feeling guilty. Jungkook’s eyes pierce you, paying the utmost attention to you, coaxing your words out of you. You can vividly see that he needs them. “I texted you. I thought you’d be here.” 

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes for a split second. A wave of relief washes over him and he purses his lips before he presses them not against your own, but against your cheek, his free hand migrating to the back of your head. And the warmth of his palm slaughters all of your bad thoughts, makes space for happy thoughts and happy emotions—and the act is so severely profound that you have to hold onto him, grip his waist like he gripped yours, and take the transformation as best as you can. 

“I was so scared,” he whispers onto your cheekbone, resting his face against yours, sinking his fingers into your hair. “If it weren’t for your coworker who told me that you left early, I would still be standing there.” He withdraws, looking down at you and pointing your face up at him. “My phone died. I didn’t get your message. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I wanted to surprise you.” 

Your heart enlarges, escaping out of your throat and into the pot he’s still holding. You shake your head, thinking he doesn’t need to be sorry for anything, and pucker your lips to ask for another kiss. Jungkook nearly whimpers at the sight, leaning down and obliging, softening the kiss he’s so willing to give you, melting it into a hundred more kisses that make your tummy flutter. And there, there the hope, which he had suffused you with a year ago, comes to a full circle and you comprehend that as long as you have him, you’ll never spend your birthday in despair. 

And because of that, you deepen the kiss. 

The tears streaming down your cheeks feel so terribly faint owing to the overwhelmingness of your emotions. It is gladness that clutches your whole being, gratitude second, and your expanding love for him in third place. And all those emotions dissolve into his cheeks in the infinity of your kiss and it is when you press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck that you realize that the orchid pot isn’t the only gift he has for you. Around the same wrist, belonging to his hand that holds the flower, are hung small gift bags that prevent you from fully dissipating into him—and that is the matter that severs the kiss, which holds the entire universe. 

And it’s not the contents of the gift bags that makes it collapse. 

It’s the red ring box that he fishes out of his pocket. 

Jungkook doesn’t get down on his knee. His hands tremble, very much like your heart, your blood system, your muscles, as he opens the box and allows you to see the gift for your very first special birthday. A diamond ring, held up by a gold lining shaped into an infinity sign. The infinity of his kiss, the infinity of your love for him, the little things you observed that made him cry—all made true in a singular ring that flits in his tattooed, trembling hand. The orchid gets placed on the nearby round table and the foreign emotions, which go beyond the ordinary happy emotions you’ve ever felt, suffocate you. So much that you begin to tremble just the same, sobbing as you turn your gaze away from the magnificent ring to the greater, blurry magnificence of his eyes just to catch the same, identical tears drenching his red, red cheeks. 

“Jungkook…” you mewl, sniffling, your constricting lungs not letting you say anything else, and you cup his hands like a flower. Perhaps to still their quivering, perhaps to just simply hold them—feel his warmth, feel the vibrancy of his tattoos—because, truth be told, you have no idea what’s happening.  

Jungkook calls you by your name in order to have your full attention and you anticipate finding in him the meaning of this all, stability and groundness. And he doesn’t hesitate. Hell, he doesn’t waste a second. 

“My little princess,” he starts but pauses momentarily, his bottom lip quivering as he holds his tears and you fall apart. At the pet name, at the unfolding of his emotions that bear nothing but raw beauty you’d readily die for.  “This is my promise to you that I am yours for all infinity. Nothing can break it, nothing can stop it, and that defines our life together. I want to spend it with you until we’re the last two people on this Earth. I know our love will keep us alive.” Tears spurt down onto his cheeks against his strong will and you wipe them away as you feel yourself swelling up with love, with something beyond joy, and with utmost, utmost adrenaline. “I love you with everything in me.” His voice breaks and you break in tandem. Jungkook envelops a buff arm around you, burying you into his chest, and for the last part of his speech, he draws close to your ear. “Happy birthday.” 

And he kisses that little seashell, kisses the planes of your cheeks until he finds your lips that he seizes, violently, with his until the infinity bursts at the seams, imbuing you with its eternal, yet different energy that promises that everything from now on shall be joyful and beautiful. His sob entangles with yours and, pulling away with a smack, he grins down at you. No piercings, just the flush of his cheeks and the love for you he radiates adorning him—and you love him. 

You love him so awfully devastatingly. 

And you tell him. You tell him as he takes your left second-last finger and slides the promise ring down that digit. And you tell him again when you meet his eyes, as if for the first time all over again and jump into his arms. The diamond reflects the light, stealing it, hiding it for you and him, the size of the ring fitting so perfectly that another set of tears gush through. 

And then he’s patting your bum, telling you to open your gifts and he kneels with you on the floor and goes through each bag he got you. A red lipstick, a perfume, a black silky dress with matching stilettos—all of which he wants you to wear on a Saturday night with him to celebrate. Then, all your favorite ‘you’ things that you love. Face masks, even lip masks, bath bombs, shower gels and body creams. Fluffy socks, pajamas, granny panties. A bottle of red wine and four packs of grape ice vape. 

Jungkook leaves you stunned. And you don’t have time to process all those wonderful things because suddenly you’re up on your feet and you’re led into a rhythm of a song he begins to hum, slow dancing with you in your living room. One hand firm on your waist, the other just as firm clasped around your hand, his eyes fixed on you, mouth in that everlasting pout. 

And you fade into him. Don’t think about your mother and the hurtful things she said. They cease to exist in the atmosphere of your shared life with him, more now than ever. You focus on the stability of his grip on you, the smoothness of his hand, the tightness you feel on your waist that grounds you, your feet that get on well with his in this dance and your hips that he loves to see moving. You focus on yourself; you focus on him. On the way he dressed up for you, ironed his black shirt and on the way he still smells so good, even though he broke a sweat. 

On the way he just committed his life to you. 

And then, he’s dressing you in the pajamas he bought you. Baggy and banana-patterned, beige and yellow colored, sitting you down on your couch and lifting your legs, one by one, to keep your feet warm with your matching socks. He’s taking your make-up off, brushing your teeth and smoothing down a face mask on your forehead, cheeks and chin, pecking you sweetly. And you’re straddling him, putting the same one on the planes of his face, and as you’re focusing, he meditates on something within his heart. 

And Jungkook shares it with you, all ruffled, sleepy and puffy. 

“I love you, my little princess. For all infinity.” 

You breathe it in, believing him. 

“I love you, Jungkookie. For all infinity.” 

You fall asleep like this—on his bare chest with your face mask still on, one that he peels off after the fifteen minute mark. And you dream about what your infinity with him looks like as your age no longer matters and stops here. 

Infinitely young, infinitely loved. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[magicalbats]

Soft Edges (Harumasa x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 3756

Warnings: afab!reader, chronic illness, piv, condoms, angst with porn

⭐

Spring rains bring summer flowers, and the clawing death rattle at the end of the world.

The moisture in the air bothers his lungs. 

You spend some time puttering around in his small kitchenette, preparing a herbal infused tea to help soothe the ache in his throat while he coughs and hacks incessantly in the other room. It makes the one bedroom apartment smell vaguely like an apothecary rather than a hospital bed. 

That seems to come as a relief almost as much as the warm drink does when he sips on it, humming a low sound of appreciation before thanking you for the thoughtful gesture. 

Sitting on the edge of the mattress with him, you study Harumasa for any signs of further deterioration in his condition. There were good days and there were bad days, and today was just unfortunate enough to be one of the latter. The hot tea and its medicinal properties seem to do him some good though. He doesn’t look like he’s in the process of actively dying on you, at least. 

Noticing your lingering stare on him, he lifts his attention to peer over at you. “What? Is there something on my face?” His voice is still a bit raspy. Weak. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, come on. Tell me where it is so I can get it.” His unoccupied hand, the one not currently wrapped around the cup he’s got braced against his knee, comes up to swipe at the corner of his mouth, his cheek. But the knowing twinkle in his eye belies his sincerity and gives him away. 

Laughing despite your best attempt not to, you reach out to gently tug his arm back down. “Stop that. You know I’m just worried about you. It’s not nice to tease me.” 

“But I told you I’m fine, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about.” He assures you, his fingers snatching at yours before you can pull them out of his reach. 

Successfully snagging them, he makes quick work of sliding his palm over yours and fitting the digits together like they were a perfectly aligned puzzle snapping into place. 

And beyond the sterile sanctity of his apartment, the pelting rain buffets at the windows, an incessant staccato played to the tune of the howling wind.  

His skin feels clammy, you notice, and you wonder if you should go get the space heater out of the closet in the hallway. It was almost summer in New Eridu but the rain had brought with it an unseasonable chill that had even made you opt for a hoodie before venturing outside. He was probably feeling it worse than you were. 

“Haru - -“ 

“You don’t need to fret over me so much every time you come over,” He tells you gently, his thumb idly brushing over the back of your knuckles. “No matter how much you may want to be, you’re not actually a nurse you know. And for the better, really.” 

“Why is that?” You ask, earning yourself a softly husking laugh from him. 

“You’re way too cute, for starters. I’d never be able to control myself and I’d get into all sorts of trouble. Can you imagine your patient popping a hard on in the middle of you trying to help them get dressed? You’d hate it too, don’t lie.” 

Rolling your eyes at that, you start to pull away but he holds fast to your hand. The way he snickers, low and quiet, like his lungs couldn’t take anything more than that, almost pulls at your heartstrings enough to distract you from his real angle. But at the same time it’s also an intimately familiar sound that you don’t associate with his illness at all, in so much as you could separate one from the other. He often laughed like that when he was in the process of turning your own body utterly against you. 

Warming at the thought, you shoot him a halfhearted look of warning. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not incapable of dressing yourself then.”

“Mm, perhaps. But I’m afraid that’s not gonna’ stop me from getting a hard on though.”

He throws you a playful wink to go with it and you draw a quick breath to chide him for not taking his health more seriously, for always downplaying his own mysterious maladies. But the words catch in your throat when he suddenly tugs your captured hand across his lap. 

Right into the center is where he presses it, making sure you feel the stirring outline of him through his cozy pajama bottoms. That he’d managed to change into them at all before knocking out under the medicated lull of myriad sleep aids and nervous system suppressing narcotics the night before was likely a small miracle. Sometimes the looming possibility of Harumasa needing help with basic everyday functions like dressing himself did not seem like such a far off what-if.  

It was not yet that day though and he was still in control of his body, at least for the time being. 

Lifting your gaze, you find his eyes underneath the attractively tousled fringe of his bangs where it was slipping forward without the usual headband in place to keep his hair back. He’s smiling at you, a barely there upward curl of his mouth that almost reads of fatigue rather than sly intent. The ghostly suggestion of tension lines on his otherwise blemish free face further solidifies that impression. 

But the way he looks at you speaks volumes, loudly conveying the message of the young man he might have been if he were not so plagued by ill health. He was sickly, yes. There was no getting around that uncomfortable truth no matter how much he tried to write off the severity of it. 

Yet he was by all accounts in the prime of his life, or he should have been anyway. Just a headstrong twenty something with the libido to match. He wanted to live, to experience. You could certainly give him that. 

“Are you sure?” At his nod, you carefully adjust your hand to close your fingers around the slowly stiffening length of him. He breathes a quiet sigh when you squeeze it through the thin layer of his bottoms. Keen and perfectly eager, but as always you were wary about going into it too hard and too fast. Especially after that coughing fit he had earlier … 

“Don’t make that face,” He murmurs. Stretching his arm out to the side, he sets the nearly empty cup on the bedside table right next to the menagerie of prescription pill bottles left out in disarray. “You’re not going to break me or kill me. Promise. I said I’m fine, didn’t I?” 

You think the two of you must have drastically different ideas of what it means to be fine but you don’t say that to him or push the topic any further than that. For his sake as much as for your own. 

And when Harumasa reaches for you, pulling you in against him, you willingly relent and sink happily into the familiar warmth of his lean, athletic frame. He feels sturdy enough that you don’t let your mind linger on it any longer than necessary and instead give yourself over to the searing kiss he presses into your mouth. You trust him to know his own limits, to recognize when something was actually wrong versus when he was just going through a bad flare up or having a shitty day. If he was feeling well enough to initiate this then you were happy to oblige. 

Which was the real crux of it, wasn’t it? The problem with a casual hookup turned long term relationship through some inexplicable means that you still weren’t entirely clear on even to this very day. What should have been a one time exchange somehow became months spent together, and now these sorts of physical exchanges were one of the rare comforts you still had that everything was going to be okay. Somehow, someway, it would all work out in the end. 

Because he certainly doesn’t seem frail and prone to illness when he bodily hauls you up further onto the bed so he can toss you down next to him with an expert flip. Your weight bounces against the mattress once from the momentum and then he’s on top of you, pinning you in place underneath him. The Harumasa you’d met that very first night and the one you make herbal tea for to soothe his throat were sometimes difficult to reconcile in your mind. But there was no mistaking that they were indeed one and the same in moments like this. 

Leaning over you, his mouth meets yours in a slow motion crash, hungry and eager to taste, eliciting a low moan of wanting from you. Kissing him back, you lift your arms to twine them around his neck while his hands slip under your hoodie to feel along your front. The shirt underneath is quickly rucked up to give him access to your chest where he hooks his fingers into the band of your bra, inching it down while his tongue tangles with yours.  

You gladly arch into his touch and your tits slip free to brush against the interior of your sweatshirt unimpeded. The sensation makes you full on shudder. Tearing your mouth away from his, you loose a quaking exhale into the still apartment which he responds to with a soft groan. The sound makes your socked toes curl as he shoves a hard kiss into the soft swell of your cheek, your jaw, then your neck. 

Unable to go any further past the bulk of the hood gathered around your throat, Harumasa pushes back just enough to give himself room to work. Grabbing the hem and shoving it up to bunch under your chin, he quickly brings his hands back down to slip them into your stretchy leggings next. Your achingly stiff nipples strain in the open air now, making the growing knot in your lower stomach tighten even more. 

A new buzzing thrum of anticipation runs through you as you lift your hips up off the bed, allowing him the space needed to yank them down your legs. They’re immediately discarded as soon as he’s got them off, carelessly tossed to the floor before he crawls back up to cover your body with his again. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, lowering himself to his elbows so he can fully cage you in. His mouth finds its way to yours as if pulled by some invisible string and you drag your hands down his lithe frame while you exchange another heated kiss. 

Sliding underneath the rumpled back of his long sleeved shirt, your fingers quickly locate the top band of his pants and tug. The two of you are pressed too tight together in a tangle of limbs, slowly grinding against one another, for you to pull them more than half of the way down. That’s decidedly fine though, and you take to gently kneading over the exposed strip of his ass with encouraging squeezes that just make him press into you even harder. 

The outline of his cock is rigid and unrelenting where it digs against you, moulding your panties to the shape of your labia. You’re eager for the friction of his cock moving inside you, flesh sliding against warm, sticky flesh, and you can tell he is too. Yet he doesn’t rush it and instead takes his time savoringly rolling his hips as if to drag it out and make it last just that little bit longer. 

Or, an unhelpful voice in the back of your mind suggests, maybe this slow tempoed pace is all he can handle right now. 

That chilling thought curbs any impulse you might have to speed things up and take your pleasure from him, allowing Harumasa to set the pace while you simply follow his lead. The first night you’d met after a brief exchange of text messages you’d wrestled with him for dominance in this very bed to see who would come out on top. Now, however, you’re pliant and perfectly in tune with the signals of his body, lessening the demanding pressure of your hands when his breath starts to become a bit too labored. 

Groaning a shuddering noise of appreciation, he nudges himself down to your chest where he covers one pert nipple with his mouth. A roughly calloused palm comes up to grab and pinch at the other while he suckles your teat to aching attention, using his lips and his tongue to lave at the bud. His pulse soon seems to even out again and the shallow contractions of his chest become not quite so dramatic. Still, you worry about him. 

“You should switch me spots, Haru.” You tell him gently as you thread your fingers through his soft, silken hair, cradling him to your breast. “Let me be on top this time.” 

Harumasa comes up off your tit to shoot you an overly confident smirk, one you’re not quite sure he can back up right now. But you don’t protest or tell him to stop when he reaches between you to fist at his pants, shoving them down in the front to let his cock spring loose. “That won’t be necessary. Really, I had no idea I was dating such a mother hen. I’m not made of glass, babe.” 

A mournful chord curls through you, dousing the knotted heat in your stomach by some small margin. 

At the same time the rain picks up outside as if mirroring the tumultuous rising current of emotion in your chest. It smacks at the windows so hard they begin to rattle in their frames, thunder booming loudly somewhere in the not far off distance. The storm was getting worse. You hope the electricity doesn’t go out. 

“I know you’re not.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Keeping his tone light and playful, Harumasa stretches over you to pull open the bedside table drawer. A condom is quickly located and pulled out, the foil wrapper crinkling lightly when he starts to rip it open. “Even if I was on my deathbed I think I could still make you scream. I wouldn’t underestimate me if I were you.” 

“Please don’t joke like that.” You snip back at him, not finding it even remotely funny. But he just laughs another low snickering sound as rolls the flesh colored rubber over his stiff cock almost down to the base. Feeling a mild pang of remorse, you draw a careful breath and say much more gently, “You don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to, Haru. I told you I’m taking birth control.” 

Humming a quiet sound, he gives himself a brief pump of his hand over the latex before settling between your legs once again, his hips nudging close to line up with yours. “Don’t worry about it. This is just fine.” 

You’re not so sure you believe that. But for as long as you've known him he’s always been adamant about using protection and you don’t understand his reasons enough to really argue against it. He’d said once he just didn’t want to take any risks or run the chance of leaving you worse off than when you’d met him. You hadn’t been sure what to make of that then and you still don’t know what to make of it now.

There were a great many things about Harumasa that remained a mystery to you though, like what exactly was wrong with him, what his diagnosis was. No matter how you posed the question he was never outright or forthcoming about that either. And while it bothered you sometimes, undeniably so, you’d found that your feelings for him were much too tender for you to push him on such topics. He’d tell you when and if he was ever ready. 

So you reach up and take him into your arms, pulling him against your chest while he tugs your panties to the side with his thumb. His mouth angles towards yours on a steady, unfaltering trajectory and he kisses you deeply, sinking into you with a stilted sigh of relief. 

The weight of his body coming to rest on top of you prods the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing in on clinging, sticky viscous arousal. You’re keenly aware of the heat of him even through the barrier of the condom and you issue a faint moan against his lips as your legs come up to lock around his waist. The careful squeeze you give him has Harumasa sinking inside you, slowly stretching your inner sleeve to the now familiar shape and size of him. 

Another teeth rattling peel of thunder sounds right overhead, as if the very center of the storm was hovering directly above the building. Perhaps it was watching the scene play out, its destructive energy growing and cresting in time with your pleasure while the two of you move in tandem with each other. Or maybe it had taken offense to the measly little ants getting it on first thing in the morning instead of bowing down and cowering in the face of its mighty wrath. 

Or maybe — just maybe, it was trying to warn you. One of you, both of you. You or him. It was impossible to say when the notion itself was so ludicrous but you can’t quite shake the feeling of existential uncertainty that sits like a lead weight in your gut now. 

It feels good having him thrust inside of you, just like you’d known it would. If you were only a bit more naive, in fact, you might have almost thought Harumasa had been made for you, and you him, given the way he seems to rub against every single pleasure inducing nerve ending along the way. You can’t help but grow wetter for him, tightening for him when your muscles eagerly clench down on the steel of his galvanized length. And you freely moan into his mouth where he’s still kissing you between soft rattling groans but … 

Why was he so dead set on using condoms even at this casually crucial junction of the relationship, after all these months spent together in sickness and in health? Did he not trust you? Did he think you were lying about the birth control and he simply wanted to avoid being stuck with you indefinitely? 

Or — could it actually be that the problem lies with him, resting squarely on his shoulders rather than yours? Did he fear what taking that final step would mean, what the end result of it might manifest when he was always prone to bad bouts of illness? 

Was the looming possibility of the existential end really so close that he needed to worry about such things? 

This was no way for a twenty something to live, and you cling to him all the more fervently for it, desperately clutching him to you like a lifeline. You wanted to save him but you don’t know how, so you open your body to him instead. Shelter, comfort and peace; the safe haven of flesh and blood, and heated breaths swapped back and forth between two locked mouths. 

And Harumasa gladly loses himself in you as if in chasing his release he could also escape the cold, bony fingers that hover just out of reach behind him. His flexing hips quicken, smacking into you with abandon now, and he sobs a frantic moan that you greedily swallow, taking it into yourself before feeding it back to him. 

His skin is so clammy under your hands. Like even the flush of arousal couldn’t completely disperse the chill that’s taken up root in him, and your heart skips a harrowing beat when his labored breaths suddenly turn thick with choking little gasps. His chest positively heaves against yours as your hands fly up to take his cheeks between your palms, carefully pushing him back just enough to look into his face. 

Expression wretched, Harumasa whimpers a low sound as if in apology while his pace slows to a weak crawl, almost a total standstill. He doesn’t completely stop fucking into you though, his cock stiffly nudging through your slick inner sleeve at such a stilted, uneven rhythm you know finishing like this will be impossible for you. But that doesn’t really matter now. It’s the very least of your concerns as you softly shush him, cooing gentle reassurances that make him screw his eyes shut as if he were in pain. 

He barely manages to reach his peak before the coughing takes hold of him again. It doubles him over and makes him collapse on top of you where he proceeds to shove his face into the pillow next to your head. You’re only distantly aware of his cock flexing within you and filling the tip of the condom with impotent seed, the vast majority of your attention fixed on the way he hacks and wheezes through the fit that assails him. It bows his spine into a dramatic, worrying hunch which you gently try to smooth out with your hand. It’s no use though. He can’t seem to get it under control. 

“Harumasa, let me help you.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He croaks, very clearly not fine. 

Sucking in a sharp, clawing breath that seems to rip his throat on the way down, he slowly manages to rouse himself enough to pull out and roll off of you. You’re quick to follow him though, pushing up to your elbow so you can look down at him while your hand continues to ineffectively rub over his shuddering back. He sounds like he’s going to cough out a lung. The thought of calling for an ambulance momentarily crosses your mind but you know how he feels about the hospital. Only if it’s an actual emergency, he’d once told you. 

But how the hell were you supposed to know when that line had been crossed? 

Unsure what else to do, you lean further over him so you can reach down and carefully help him take the used condom off. It’s a difficult task in this position, when he’s half curled over on his side like this, still struggling to get his breathing under control, but you manage, somehow. Just like with everything else, you try to make it work. 

And outside the unsympathetic storm rages on. 

⭐

Crossposted: here

[seraphinitegames]

Hello, wonderful being(s) who operate this blog. Wayhaven has become a sort of home for me and I thank you so much for making and sharing it with all of us. It’s amazing to watch the world and fandom grow and following the process with you!? Incredibly generous and dedicated of you! It’s so clear that this is a labor of love and I hope that after all your hard work you are impressed or at the very least satisfied with the incredible amount of work you put into every aspect of this. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

Feel free to ignore this, but it’s a question I think about often while reading Wayhaven. We all know that N doesn’t like technology and believes (perhaps rightly so) that nowadays we rely on electronics too much. I happen to be legally blind and rely heavily on technology to get around that. Such as using my phone camera to zoom in on something I can’t see or read. Or having to need a voiceover to ‘read’ my books for me. N is my favorite and I wonder how they (and perhaps A, since they’re so old and seem to be rather wary of tech too) would feel about this aspect of technology or if the MC had to depend on such workarounds for their own limitations. I love how independent and capable the MC is and that there is no pressure or plans for the MC to become a vampire. But this particular ‘what if” comes to me often if I happen to be thinking of Wayhaven while I go about my day with my little tricks and such to do what I need to in order to see and get about.

So sorry for the long winded message. >.< Thank you so much again.

Aah, what a wonderful and kind message! Thank you so, so much! I'm so happy to hear Wayhaven is a home for you. I truly wanted it to be a space people can fall into and just lose themselves in.

As for your question, Nate/Nat probably would never have thought of the benefits of technology in this way. When they can fall back on magically-infused aids to help in things, that's where they would go to!

Adam/Ava is at least more open to uses of technology, but doesn't tend to use tech outside of what the Agency offers too.

N and N came from ages where tech just wasn't a thing, and even after all these centuries, they haven't come to rely on it yet, lol! :D

Thank you so much for the ask and again for the amazing message! <3

[hyunsvngs]

hyunsvngbinimas!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: they're in love your honor, mostly vanilla, brief rimming, brief foodplay, kitchen sex, clit play, unprotected sex, creampie

You hate that Felix is so good at these types of things. He’s had to help you reassemble your gingerbread house three whole times now, when it’s unceremoniously fallen apart on the tray, and his creation looks perfect. He’s even done you and him standing outside in icing, with Bbokari standing next to you both as your little chick pet.

Not that you’d have been able to truly focus on yours anyway. Felix had been accidentally brushing against you, grabbing your waist, sometimes pushing past you to grind his cock on your ass. It was meant to be a cute experience, both of you in matching Christmas pyjamas and Felix in his Santa hat, but of course your gremlin of a boyfriend had to turn it into something sexual.

“Mine looks bad,” You whine, stomping your feet. Felix looks at your house, all slanted walls and barely-attached roof of it, and bursts out laughing. You whine again, elbowing him in the tummy softly. It’s his fault! “Felix. Don’t be mean! Not all of us can be super creative.”

“I know baby, I know,” He’s still laughing, but he wraps his arms around your middle. The Christmas music is still playing softly in the background, and he sways you and hums along to the song. His Christmas hat tickles your neck, and you finally let yourself smile, hands grabbing his forearms where they rest around you. “At least you’re good at making cookies. Look! You even did a Jureumi one for Minho hyung.”

You blink at the cookie where it’s cooling on the tray, before nodding in acknowledgement. The lines are a little bit wonky, but you know Minho will kiss your forehead and thank you nonetheless. “I think he’ll like it.”

“He will,” He nods, kissing your cheek. “He’ll love it, baby, and if all else fails, Chan will love your gingerbread house.”

“He’ll just lie to be nice about it.”

“Well, yeah, but-” Felix is cut off by his own giggle as you swat at him, before he grabs your hands, rendering you motionless. “Don’t attack me! It’s Christmas!”

You ignore the urge to tell him that it’s not quite Christmas yet. You’d been invited to Felix’s dorm to bake for the other members and have a sugar-infused Christmas party prior to the actual day, and Felix had ushered everyone out so that it would be a surprise. An unhappy surprise, you think, because your gingerbread house looks shit. 

“It’s not my fault it looks bad anyway, Felix,” You groan, pointing an accusing finger at him. He throws his arms up in surrender, a faux-innocent look on that beautiful freckled face. “You kept touching me.”

Felix drops his arms then, giggling. “Did it get you hot under the collar, baby? That’s so cute,” You let him crowd you against the counter, the smell of gingerbread and sweet icing filling your senses. He braces you with his arms, surprisingly muscly, and your hands come up to your chest as if to defend yourself. “You’re so cute. I couldn’t help myself, not with you looking so delicious in these pyjamas.”

You glance down at your pyjamas. Minnie Mouse in a Christmas dress stares you dead in the eyes. “I have Minnie Mouse on my shirt.”

“That’s what makes it so cute!” Felix gushes, a smile on his face. “You know I love you looking so domestic. It makes me just wanna… y’know.”

You watch with an amused smile on your face as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. He’s so ridiculous. You love him. “Makes you wanna what?”

“Touch you,” He breathes, leaning in to peck your lips chastely. When he pulls away, there’s a more determined look on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “I want to touch you. I have since we started this fucking baking date. I just wanna bend you over the counter and make you cum, you look so cute.”

Oh. Your chest starts heaving, breaths tumbling out your lips. “Oh, Felix…”

“Will you let me?” Felix questions, little fingers coming up to play with the collar of your shirt. His hands are burning hot on your skin, making you squirm in your spot and huff out a sigh. “I want to make you cum, baby. Will you let me?”

“I- Yes, yeah, I’ll let you.”

“So cute,” He murmurs, dark doe eyes scanning your face, and then he’s kissing you. You let him, mouth opening pliantly for Felix’s typical soft, yet messy kisses, open mouthed and channelling all of his love through them. 

The pom pom on his Santa hat dangles precariously and tickles your face, but you ignore it, fingers moving up to rest on his broad shoulders. He crowds further into your space, if it’s even possible, and pushes his hands up your shirt. You gasp into the kiss when his hands knead your breasts, sans-bra due to your intended comfort in your pyjamas. Your nipples are hard, pebbled against his palms, and he groans into your lips.

Felix groans into the kiss, his deep timbre reverberating through you, and then he’s shoving his hand down your bottoms. “I wanna play with your clit, make you cum before I push inside,” He huffs, and you nod eagerly, letting your legs fall apart just slightly to accommodate him. His fingers push into your folds, finding your clit and almost whining at the mess he finds between your legs. “Oh, baby. It’s so wet down here, you liked me touching you?” 

“I always like you touching me,” You murmur, a pink flush rising to your cheeks. Felix chuckles, and then he’s rubbing circles around your clit. He always knows how to touch you, how to make you cum so quickly and so hard that you’re seeing stars and can’t breathe for a minute afterwards.

You usually love tangling your hands in his hair while he pleasures you; you love to hear his sharp intake of breath each time you tug a little harder. With the scarlet santa hat hiding his locks, you’re lost. His fingers speed up, harsh circles on your sensitive bundle of your nerves making your hands scrabble for purchase, flitting between his chest, his shoulders, cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips back to yours. You don’t know what to do with yourself, you can barely contain your upcoming climax.

“Felix,” you utter, a breathy moan. “Lix, Lix, look at me.” He looks up obediently, dark eyes wide as they meet yours. “Cumming, cumming, I-”

He hushes you with a kiss, he doesn't need to hear what you're trying to say. He knows you're cumming, he sees it in the way you look at him, the way your eyebrows furrow and your fingertips dig into his skin with a wail. He feels it as your wetness floods his fingers, and he gives you a second to try and catch your breath before speaking.

“Good?” Felix chuckles, kissing your nose. You scrunch your nose up in response, and he does it again, and again, until he stops and presses his forehead against yours. “Mm. I want to fuck you. Can I?”

“Yeah,” You nod, smiling. “You can always fuck me. How do you want me, Lixie?”

“God,” He grins, teeth white and shining. You let your eyes trail across his freckles while he thinks, hands securely on your waist and eyes fluttering shut. He hums, and then spins you around, pressing your front into the counter. “Like this. Bend over for me, baby, I’ll hit it nice and deep.”

You wiggle your ass teasingly and Felix moans, slapping your asscheek. It only takes a second and he pulls your pyjama trousers down with your underwear, running a thumb through your folds. 

“So sloppy,” He muses, and then you hear him sigh. “I want to try something, baby, stay still for me.”

He reaches over and you hear a few clattering noises, and Felix dribbles something cold on your ass. You squeal, shifting, before his hands go to your hips to keep you in place. 

“Lix, what’s-”

“Icing,” He groans, and you hear him shifting onto his knees. His tongue hits your skin, licking up the trail of sweetness on your asscheek. His tongue dips over your skin a few more times for good measure, even going as far to lick over your asshole, tonguing the rim.

“Lix, please, I can’t wait,” You whine, hips wiggling tantalisingly. “Lixie, please, please-”

You’re cut off by the feeling of the blunt press of his cockhead against your hole. It has you wondering briefly if the boys are going to come home halfway through you getting fucked, and it makes you whimper, pushing your hips back into Felix’s cock. The feeling of his pyjamas against your skin makes you realise that he’s fucking you with just his cock pulled out, otherwise fully clothed, and you gasp, feet kicking against the floor.

“Gimme it,” You slur, head dropping down onto your arms. “Wet enough, feel, gimme it!”

When his cockhead breaches your hole you wail, loud and unabashed.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight, baby, fuck,” He groans, sinking into your heat slowly. You whine, pushing your hips back on him again, and his hands splay across your ass. A beat passes, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow and passionate and so delicious that it makes you moan. You feel his pubes against your ass, trimmed hairs on his balls slapping against your clit with the sinuous rhythm. “Feel good? Tell me, tell me, fuck, baby…”

“It’s so good, Felix, I can feel everything, it’s so- hnnnng, Felix, Felix, please, faster-”

“I’ll cum if I go fast, baby, give me a second,” He huffs, head dropping to your neck. His chest presses against your back, and he continues to fuck you slowly for a bit before he speeds up. With the position, he’s got you deep and pliant, legs spread for him to do what he wants to you against the counter. Finally, his pace increases and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You feel a wave of pleasure crash over you as Felix's thrusts become faster and harder, his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Ah, ah, like that, like that, oh my god,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head. Felix always fucks into you just right, and you reach back to grab onto his hand, pulling him closer into you. “Oh, keep going, just like that, I’ll cum again, I’ll cum.”

“Cum for me, cum for me,” Felix moans, his voice higher pitched as his balls slap against your clit. He’s getting close. Your pussy’s so wet that the slapping sounds echo around the kitchen, yet your moans and whines are louder than anything else. “Baby, c’mon, cum for me, I’ll cum inside.”

Your head lolls forward, your bottom lip wet with drool. Felix rarely came inside, too worried about the risks, and the idea has you hurtling into ecstasy. “You’ll- really? You’ll cum inside? God, I want you to, Lixie, please-”

“I’ll fill you up, baby, I promise, c’mon. Show me how good this cock makes you feel.”

With a particularly well-timed thrust into your g-spot, you fall apart, wailing through your orgasm and trying to grip onto the counter with sweaty palms. Your cunt flutters around Felix’s cock over and over, the tightness forming a new intensity for him, and he groans before his hips halt against your ass. You feel his hips trembling against you as he cums inside, filling you up with pulses of white cum and making you feel full of him. It’s so hot, so sexy that it almost makes you want to go again, but you’re interrupted by the sound of voices by the front door. 

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbles, pulling out of you with haste. You gasp at the realisation that the other boys are back, yanking your bottoms up and trying to ignore the feeling of Felix’s cum leaking out of you. He shuffles around the kitchen awkwardly, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible, and you giggle as he wiggles his bottoms up awkwardly. 

You both try to make yourself look busy, trying to fix your now collapsed gingerbread house and fiddling with the cookies. You hear a scoff from behind you, and you turn around to see Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin. The youngest has a dumb smile on his face, Minho looks to be suppressing the loudest laugh he’s ever done and Seungmin’s scowling.

“Hi!” Felix says, too cheery. “Do you wanna try our gingerbread house?”

“Only if you promise that’s actually icing,” Seungmin remarks, raising an eyebrow. You flush, lips parting in shock. “It stinks of sex in here.”

Jeongin grins, elbowing him playfully. “As if you’d know, hyung.”

“No, but seriously,” Minho smirks, eyes flitting between you and Felix. “Can’t you two do anything without fucking like rabbits?”

Felix turns to you, a bright blush beneath his freckles. You’re embarrassed, but the soft look in his eyes reassures you, a fond smile on his face. “It’s Christmas, and we’re in love.”

You coo, and Seungmin fake gags.

“You’re both disgusting.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

In what ways would you change Yuu (or would you get rid of them entirely)? The writing feels inconsistent on their place/importance. If they were just a conduit for the player to watch the events unfold that's one thing but in another story they are an active player.

I'd personally play into the beastamer aspect more. They are supposedly the reason why Ace, Deuce, and Grim were able to work together thus I'd want them to have more agency in making plans, giving orders, etc. Rook calls them Trickster but in what way (lol). The vagueness of being a self insert pains me. I'd also want to give them some magically infused weapon (or has a magestone embedded) just so they aren't fodder or sideline material.

Mmm… As much as I dislike the blank slate self-insertiness of Yuu (I’d prefer to read about an actually realized character), I wouldn’t want to get rid of them altogether. I think they’re important for the role they serve in the narrative even if in execution is inconsistent and not done well.

The problem with “changing” Yuu is that there has to be a certain level of ambiguity due to the design of the game. You cannot give them too much personality or you risk alienating the audience that likes to project or self-insert. There’s also a limit to how much uniqueness a mobile game can lend its players characters; the format isn’t exactly known for having super in-depth player arcs, it’s known for their colorful casts of rollable characters. The devs have to toe that line carefully, not to mention juggle Yuu’s participation with letting the other characters shine. It is for this reason that I won’t be doing a total overhaul of Yuu or just deciding “give them a personality!” as what I’d change about them. Rather, I’ll be proposing alterations while thinking like a dev (ie preserving the current story and as much of the self-insertiness as I can while also trying to give Yuu more to do/say).

Now Yuu, being the outsider to this world, is perfectly poised to have others dump exposition on them. This serves the dual purpose of being able to diegetically explain things to the player. (We wouldn’t get this advantage if the player character was changed to be like… a Twisted Wonderland resident; you could explain some magic things to a layman, but a resident wouldn’t need more common knowledge like country names exposited to them. Were this the case, we’d need an additional excuse for Crowley to take in a native.) It’s also convenient to have them be the “eyes” for the player to experience the world through, since Yuu is able to conveniently be present for most major main story events. It essentially makes them a human-shaped video camera.

I’ve often heard people suggest that if we need a POV character, why not go with Grim since he basically serves the same purpose now anyway. My answer to that is: Grim is also an arrogant asshole who picks fights, just the same as any other NRC student. If Grim were the player character, he wouldn’t be contributing much or helping to guide the other students learn to get along. We need Yuu here to be that driving force for change because Grim simply isn’t capable of it when he’s instigating himself half of the time.

A smaller thing about Yuu that I love is the idea of them being the school photographer! (This is something that is shown in the second anniversary animated video too!) It gives us context for the cards we roll and it implies that Yuu is the one documenting these precious memories. I want Yuu to stay if only for this reason.

Personally, I wouldn’t make Yuu a combatant. This is antithetical to their role and I feel would instead work against them (or at least create a scenario where Yuu has to have some level of battle prowess; this impedes on the self-insert nature of them). Sticking a magic item in their hand makes little difference since they most likely wouldn’t know how to handle it in the moment. (Nor would a magicless human even be able to use some of them; for example, a magestone is completely useless to them.) A magicless human with no combat experience is just another liability to account for, not to mention it actively puts them in harm’s way. It might be cool in theory, but I think in practice it goes against the very concept of Yuu. They’re meant to be here to show that there is “another way” to the NRC students—that violence doesn’t solve all your problems, proof that you don’t need to be a powerful being to “change” others or the world around them. They’re supposed to be underestimated and not seen as much of a “real” fighter, and they’re supposed to prove those notions wrong by demonstrating their worth via other avenues. In this “the weak obey the strong” school, Yuu has to be the one to show them that strength comes in forms that are NOT magic power or battle prowess.

I feel that Yuu works best on the sidelines as a supporter and strategist. Strategy is, after all, half of the battle, and it’s a part that people tend to overlook in favor of the flashier fighters. But strategy is crucial and it can turn the tide against a formidable foe (as we see in the prologue)!! I think this is something the NRC students need to be made more aware of too, so Yuu should stay as the strategist; they just have to be given more opportunities to show off those skills!

With all of that being said, here is what I would change about Yuu:

Drop the beast tamer thing. It gets mentioned prominently like once in the prologue and then never becomes truly relevant. Maybe it’ll become important when it comes to taking down OB Grim, but that will be SO late in the main story that the payoff doesn’t seem worth it. There are no examples of Yuu’s beast taming skills ever being used in the main story, so the whole “oh you have the makings of a beast tamer” thing is so useless. If you really want to keep it, then let Yuu’s innate talent/skills for beast taming help them out at least once per main story book. This means I’d want to see instances of Yuu getting other creatures (ie not just Grim) to help them out.

Allow Yuu the agency to act on their own when it comes to finding a way back to their own world. Going home is so often relegated to a single line or a few sentences and then not addressed again until next book. Have Yuu take initiative instead of waiting around for updates from Crowley. They should go out and ask questions, investigate on their own, etc. Maybe have them get involved in each book’s conflict because they happen to get mixed up in it while conducting research instead of being TOLD to go and fix a problem. Book 6 marks the only real time I can think of Yuu making a drastic decision against Crowley’s advice. It puts them at great risk, and that’s something they’re willing to take for the sake of saving their friends. We need more moments like this throughout the rest of the story. However, Yuu won’t be allowed to do whatever they want unrestricted because 1) it falls out of the scope of a mobile game title and 2) we want to largely retain the capacity to self-insert. So when I say give Yuu more agency to act, I mean it ONLY in the sense of being more proactive in their efforts to get home.

Add a short comment or two from other characters depending on which dialogue options are picked for Yuu. It would be too ambitious to incorporate a full-on branching storyline or strong “choose your own adventure” elements, but at least have the other characters consistently comment on whatever brief dialogue option Yuu has rather than ignoring them 90% of the time. This wouldn’t alter the story in any way but it sure would be nice to have a little more flavor text and more of Yuu actually being acknowledged as present.

Yuu should fully commit to being a planner and strategist. We get to see this aspect of Yuu like once or twice in the prologue (when they tell Grim where to spit fire at the ghosts/planning how to beat the Phantom in the mines) and then are left to extrapolate this to the rest of the game. Maybe you can argue they figured out Azul’s scheme in book 3 too, but this isn’t good enough. If you’re going to set up the idea, then have consistent segments in each book that reinforces that idea. Have Yuu brainstorm ways to jailbreak in book 4, have Yuu be perceptive enough to notice that Malleus isn’t feeling great in book 7 (only for Malleus to brush them off/insist he has a solution), etc.

Have a short story segment that explains how or why Yuu earns their nickname “Trickster” from Rook. We got this with Floyd, so the other known nicknamer should reveal this, especially since the name “Trickster” implies intelligence and cunning. Yuu should have an opportunity to demonstrate this (in book 5 maybe?), which earns them Rook’s respect and the new title. This should also be informed by other parts where Yuu shows how smart they can be.

More time bonding with Grim. I say Grim specifically because I commonly see him as a hated character in part because of how he “steals lines/time” away from Yuu. (Adeuce and Malleus are fine as they are because the former already stick up for/help Yuu out and the latter is meant to stay mysterious until late in the main story.) This means that if you don’t already like Grim, the whole “Yuu chases them to Styx HQ to save Grim” plot point in book 6 rings hollow. To truly build a bond with Grim, please give us moments prior to book 6 that show how much they care for one another and are linked to each other as partners. Times when Grim causes inconveniences for Yuu don’t count. Give me instances of them cuddling at night or talking to each other about their hopes and dreams or whatever. This would establish the value that Grim sees in Yuu, as well as the value that Yuu sees in Grim. It makes it more believable that Grim would cry when he’s alone or realizes he hurt his partner, and that Yuu would defy the headmaster’s advice and put themselves at risk to save Grim.

Better incorporate the ghost camera and its usage in the main story. The ghost camera provides an in-universe explanation for gaming meta (ie the card illustrations); in the main story, it’s hardly ever mentioned save for its introduction in the prologue and when Yuu takes a picture of Mickey with it. What should happen instead is Yuu will take a picture of the characters involved in that chapter. This way, it’s a physical reminder of the time everyone spent together and the bonds they’ve developed. It further strengthens the idea of the students learning to get along and Yuu being there to facilitate that while also keeping the ghost camera relevant.

More time where Yuu actually bonds with/“changes” the other characters. One huge gripe I have with the main story is that we’re TOLD that Yuu’s presence changes and improves the boys for the better, that they teach them how to get along. Very little of the actual main story supports this (outside of the prologue). At best, Yuu has a very short chat with some of the OB boys at the end of their respective book. Yuu should have a little more time in this regard. I don’t know, maybe Idia is still struggling to socialize when he comes over to play video games at Ramshackle so Yuu has to gently encourage him to give it a try or says something to help include him in the conversation. Little things like that! Keep the strong interactions the other characters have in changing the OB boys (like Trey being the one to rush to Riddle’s side, the twins teasing Azul, etc.), but have Yuu help facilitate them opening up emotionally and being vulnerable with one another.

This last point is debatable (I keep changing my mind about it), but possibly make a point of showing how Yuu is adjusting to this new world. This honestly might mess with the self-insert aspect (which is why I debated to leave this out), but I also feel like it might be interesting to reinforce Yuu’s desire to go home h demonstrating homesickness or issues with settling into Twisted Wonderland.

To summarize, the changes I’d make largely involve making TWST commit to briefly mentioned details (that they largely don’t follow through on) and making Yuu actually do a little more to warrant crediting them with resolving issues + fostering friendships. A lot of the problems that exist now are due to promising a lot but then poorly executing on what was promised.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Want to Be a Prince

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You play the part of a princess at Lila Kay's party and meet the prince you've been dreaming of.

Warnings: fluff, Street gets nervous and flustered

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“You have got to be the best parents in the world,” you tell your newest clients, Deacon and Annie Kay. “If my parents had done stuff like this, I never would have moved out.”

Deacon chuckles as Annie asks, “Then how would you have become royalty?”

“Can’t deny the call of a tiara,” you reply. “But, seriously, thank you for hiring me and Lila is going to love this. All the kids will.”

“Thanks to you,” Deacon points out. “Lila’s had a rough year this is quite literally the least we could do.”

“No, Mr. Kay, it isn’t. Most parents wouldn’t even consider going to lengths like this just to make their kids feel better. Lila won the parental lottery.”

“When you’re done feeding our egos,” Annie teases, “your castle is ready, and the makeover team is here.”

“Thank you.”

Deacon checks his phone, then says, “Street’s dropping off the bakery order. He just left work, so he should be by in an hour or so.”

“Did you get him that cupcake he wanted to try?” Annie asks.

“He’s a grown man, he can buy his own cupcake.”

“That sounded like a yes to me,” you murmur.

Deacon sighs and nods. “I did.”

“Good friends, too,” you muse as you rearrange the princess dresses beside you.

“Okay, can I run through everything one more time?” Annie asks.

Deacon smiles and gestures for her to go ahead. She’s got the party planned out wonderfully, but she wants everything to be perfect for her daughter, and you admire that. Watching how she and Deacon interact, their words and actions filled with love for each other and their family, makes you smile. You want that. But if your better half wanted to arrive a little faster, you wouldn’t argue.

“The girls will get dropped off at 3 after school, they’ll come into this magical wonderland and meet the makeover team, pick dresses, get their hair and makeup done, and then head outside for a royal dinner. They’ll see the castle, be welcomed by a real princess… I think we’ve got everything,” Annie lists.

“You did a great job, Annie,” Deacon tells her before kissing her forehead. He checks his watch, then asks, “Do you need to get ready?”

You lean back and check the clock on their wall, partially blocked by pink streamers, then nod to yourself. “I do. Need me to do anything else?”

“You’ve already done more than enough.”

“Why didn’t you stay at Disney?” Annie inquires.

As you stand, you smile and answer, “I felt like I didn’t have enough time. I loved it, but kids were in and out so fast, getting rushed by the staff, that the magic was gone. That’s why I do this, so it didn’t make sense to me to stay there.”

Annie nods and muses, “Worked out for us.”

“I hope so.”

You leave them to finish setting up and find your items arranged neatly in their master bathroom. Changing out of your clothes, you put on the items you wear under the pink princess gown you chose for tonight’s party. Then, you do your hair and makeup, focusing intently on the mirror to ensure your look is precise and aligns with your outfit. After rubbing body-glitter-infused lotion over your collarbones and down your arms, you step into your dress to slide it over your hips before placing your arms into the off-the-shoulder sleeves. With your shoes on and everything packed away, you take a deep breath and exit the Kays’ bathroom.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” a voice you don’t recognize says.

As you return to the living room, Annie whispers, “Whoa. You look amazing.”

Deacon turns toward you, and you see bakery boxes on the table and Deacon's friend Street. You remembered his name after Deacon said it, and now you understand why. You assumed he was a cop, too, but you weren’t expecting him to be so cute. Or to stare at you like he just walked into Narnia and you’re a mythical creature.

“Hello,” you greet softly.

“Oh, hi,” he replies, blinking quickly. “You’re a princess.”

You nod. “Sometimes.”

He keeps his eyes on you and says, “I dressed up for Sam’s last party. My costume wasn’t as good.”

“You didn’t work at Disneyland before you started freelancing,” Deacon points out.

“I bet you were great,” you tell him.

Street clears his throat and looks at Deacon, recoiling slightly at Deacon’s knowing look. “Do you need help with anything else?” he asks, hoping that Deacon says yes and he has an excuse to stay close to you for longer.

“Actually,” Deacon begins.

“I’ll do it,” Street interrupts.

You laugh under your breath, and Street feels like a kid at Disney for the first time. He doesn’t even know if you perform well as a princess, but you look like one, and Street can’t seem to look away from you.

“We need to set up the dinner table,” Deacon says. “Which is outside,” he adds when Street doesn’t move away from you.

“Maybe I should be a prince for Halloween,” Street muses as he follows Deacon.

“You should,” you agree.

Street smiles at you before he closes the door, and Annie looks at you with the same knowing look as Deacon gave Street.

“What?” you inquire.

“Nothing,” she says lightly. “You want his number?”

You consider acting shocked for a moment, then look down at your dress and answer, “I’ll ask him.”

With fifteen minutes left, you walk outside to find your place in the castle Deacon had built in his backyard. Street looks up from the princess-themed table and smiles at you. You realize you haven’t introduced yourself and walk to the table before offering your name. Street shakes your hand, and everything feels different when you pull away from him.

Glancing at Deacon, you’re glad to see him occupied with chairs before you ask, “Could I… could I get your number?”

“Yes,” Street answers. It comes too quick, but he doesn’t even care enough to be embarrassed as you smile and push your perfectly curled hair over your shoulder, exposing your glittery collarbone.

“I don’t have my phone,” you tell Street.

He looks at your face as he pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to you. Once your name and number have been saved, you return it to him and relish in feeling his fingers brushing over yours.

“I’m so glad I picked up those cakes,” Street murmurs.

“Does that mean you’ll reimburse me for the cupcake?” Deacon interjects. He waves his hand and adds, “I’ll ask at the wedding.”

“I have to go be a princess,” you tell Street.

“I have to find an excuse to stay.”

“It’s Lila’s party, Street,” Deacon points out.

Street nods, his eyes on you.

“Fine, you can stay, but I’m putting you to work as a waiter.”

“Whatever you say, Deac.”

“Wow!” Lila exclaims, exiting her house dressed in a blue and purple gown with sparkly eyeshadow and her hair braided delicately. “A castle!”

The girls behind her awe at the castle, wide-eyed as they look around.

“Hello, my fellow princesses!” you call, waving from the castle tower. You move your hand to your necklace and widen your eyes to compliment, “Your gowns are beautiful, true beauties, just as their wearers.”

As the kids rush toward the castle, eager to meet the princess, Street watches from Deacon’s side as you smile, lower gently, and accept hugs with a grace he’s never experienced. He knows it’s an act, but it has to be an extension of you. It makes him desperate to learn more about you. To learn everything about you.

“Can you talk to animals?” Lila asks.

You smile and whisper, “We can all talk to animals, the key is learning to be quiet and patient enough to listen for them to reply.”

“Deac, when you said wedding earlier,” Street begins, leaning toward Deacon.

“Don’t,” Deacon interrupts. “You two figure that out later.”

“Gladly,” Street replies before straightening.

You walk with the princesses to the tables Deacon and Street set up, whispering with them and complimenting their bows as they reach the table. When you meet Street’s eyes, you smile and curtsey before sitting beside Lila.

“Where’s your prince?” she asks.

“He’s saving good people,” you answer. “I see him often, but dinner with princesses is always a treat.”

Deacon and Street serve macarons and chocolate pastries around the table before dinner. When Street reaches you, he whispers, “Princess.”

You smile widely, then quickly replace it with your practiced princess expression.

“I’ve never wanted to be a prince before today, Deac,” Street says.

“The right woman will do that to you.”

“You’re so pretty,” Street blurts out.

You laugh and look down at your t-shirt and leggings. “Thank you.”

“I mean, you were beautiful in the dress, but… it’s just you, you’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re a prince.”

Street hesitates, and you take his hand, smiling your genuine smile as you ask, “Are you going to ask me out or do I have to do it?”

“Where do you want to go? Give me something to work with.”

You brush your thumb over his knuckles and murmur, “You’ve got it.”

Street nods. “Will you go out with me? We can get dinner and then try the best cupcake in the world.”

“That sounds perfect,” you reply. “I’d love to.”

Street sighs, and you bump your shoulder against him as he walks you out of Deacon and Annie’s house. “I wasn’t going to say no, why are you acting relieved?”

“I’m so nervous,” he confesses.

You turn toward him and place your hand on his cheek. As you kiss Street, he feels like he could be a prince. As long as you’re his princess, Street knows who and what he is. And what he's going to be for Halloween.

Bonus:

“I guess the cupcake paid off,” Deacon says as Annie watches you and Street out the window.

“Only you would take credit for what just happened, David,” Annie replies, smiling.

“I knew he’d have a crush on her. Like I told him, the right woman turns you into a prince.”

[dr-zeddy]

Miquella is a deeply tragic character and saying he's a villain just because he used someone, who was probably way worse than him to create an order lead by kindness, makes you come off as pretty short-sighted imo Miq was as much of a victim as Mohg. He had good intentions, he truly believed he could make the he could make the world a better place.

*exhales deeply* Are you the person, I think you are? nonetheless....

I'm going to shed my opinion on Miquella now because I seriously can not tell if this is bait or not from things we see and know in the base game and DLC and want to clarify my thoughts on him and why I believe rendering him as a victim is extremely problematic, also outside of the entire Mohg situation.

Is it so hard to internalize that the things Miquella did were actually highly morally questionable? I got to admit, he is a way more interesting character to me after the DLC because of the things he did (and I enjoy villains, so yeah.) I guess the »villain« term is as much accurate as some of you folks justify brainwashing to be ethical , when it is done with good intentions and keeps the peace, with which I personally do not agree with at all.

I don't see Miquella as tragic because honestly we have nothing to suggest that this guy suffered in any way before he decided to rip himself off of his personality. And that is the point, he decided to do that himself. No one forced him to this. Miquella had a choice, unlike Mohg. Yeah sure, you could argue that he suffered through his immense »empathy« but honestly, Miquella's empathy for the weak and shunned always came off as superficial. Why does he not care for the Albinaurics being tortured in Castle Sol, which is clearly allied with him? Where are the Misbegotten and other creatures in Elphael? Where are the Albinaurics? And the Omens? The Nomads?? Miquella claims to want to create a perfect world where everyone is equal but honestly except for words we hear, we do not see any fucking action or effort to truly include them in his world order.

And that's the thing, Miquella reeks for me at best of naivity and at worst of white saviour complex. He grew up as a fucking empyrean, he had a good relationship with at least one of his parents, he was a golden child. From the things we see and hear in the base game, and now the DLC, it feels like Miquella does not seem to grasp the complexity of the situation when it comes to subjugation. If that is due to his child-like thinking, infused by his curse or actually just his personality, is up for debate. Can you truly care for the subjugated as someone more privileged? Absolutely. But only if you truly educate yourself on the matter and actually listen to the needs of the excluded and shunned.

What does Miquella do instead? He rips everyone off of their autonomy to make decisions themselves if they refuse or challenge his beliefs. That is textbook tyranny. You can not save someone, who refuses to be saved by someone like you. Doing so anyway is extremely ignorant. In the end, Miquella actually puts his needs & beliefs before that of those he claims to desire to save. He is so convinced of his own agenda that he loses track of the moral dilemma, his approach to worldpeace poses. That is not tragic. These are the thoughts of a megalomaniac. If Miquella's selflessness was truly genuine there would be no need of compelling affection. However, he bewitches people. Over and over.

Of course, there are his efforts of curing Malenia still. But even that is, in the big sight of things, not really a selfless act because Malenia is a.) close family and b.) he gets and actual use out of Malenia's talent as a skilled swordswoman. I do not think Miquella bewitched her, I truly believe Malenia followed him by his own will and I also do believe he really did want to help her! However true kindness lays in how you treat those who can do nothing for you. Bewitching those who can do nothing for you and refuse to follow you, is not exactly a very pretty picture of his character.

And in comes Mohg to this occasion. The game is so fucking obvious about the fact that Mohg was the exploited one and I seriously do not understand why people still insist he isn't and exploited Miquella?? He is the only demigod we know for certain of, who was brainwashed. With Radahn and Malenia we do not know for sure but with Mohg we do. The fact that Mohg was bewitched implies that Miquella could not be sure that Mohg would have agreed to a deal and that would have been a way safer route than to bewitch him and his closest consult. I mean, Miquella almost DIED because he underestimated Ansbach's knowledge on how Mohg behaves. Why the fuck risk that if you could have just openly made a deal with Mohg, if he was as power hungry and crazy as the game implied?

In contrast to Miquella, Mohg is actually one of the most tragic characters in the game. This motherfucker was told his mere existence is a crime, grew up in the sewers locked away for years, he had no one except this one Outer God who seemed to care for him and showed him maternal love, something he was deprived off his entire life. Not getting into the speculation on how the cult operated before Miquella took over but it's very clear that he ruined Mohg's life. Mohg just wanted to get away from the toxicity he grew up with and created his own haven, from which he too thought, was the right thing to do. However he never forced anyone to join him. He never mind controlled people. People followed him by their own accounts.

The cult in itself is probably morally questionable too but we also have no idea how the Mohgwyn Dynasty worked before Miquella essentially took over. But by that standard, everyone is in the Lands Between is a twisted bastard with their different agendas ….

The point is that Ansbach is still right though when he says that »Mohg deserved better«. NO ONE who is genuinely interested in helping the shunned and subjugated, would chose one of the most excluded and tormented souls as their pawn. NOBODY deserves to be treated like this but the fact that Mohg is a product of extreme racism and social exclusion makes it so much worse and makes Miquella look so much more hypocritical. It suits the stuff we see in Castle Sol and the Haligtree … Miquella wants to be seen as the world's saviour so badly but seems to have no understanding on what suffering actually means. Because he never experienced it. His empathy is superficial and short sighted. The fact he is convinced he is doing everyone a favour in bewitching them, and does everything in his power to achieve his dream, makes him a truly terrifying villain. And that is something I like Miquella for. Is that really so hard to accept for people like you?

Sure, you can still live out the fantasy in your head that the mindcontrolling intermitted in Mohg to "grape" Miquella (even tho the game also never confirmed this????) if that pleases you, but for the love of God stop acting like it is a fact that Miquella was used by Mohg because he wasn't. I guess a lot of personal feelings from my side bubble up regarding this topic and I'm sorry of if I come off as passive aggressive but as a survivor of abuse as a minor by someone "popular", and nobody believed me, and Mohg being one of my comfort characters, that shit hits different. Just not a fan of turning victim-abuser dynamics upside down, sorry.

[avelera]

I need to take a second to yell about the first five minutes of Arcane Season 2 because the whole Jayce/Mel/Viktor shakeout was so exactly, 100% the complete opposite of all of my theoriesthat I'm kind of in awe of it.

My theory was that the bomb would hit and the hexcore infusing Viktor would shield him and probably Jayce. That Mel would die in Jayce's arms or be very badly injured to the point of a coma.

I thought that Mel would become the causus belli for Ambessa and that seeing how the hexcore saved Viktor and possibly Jayce would trigger the breakup between Viktor and Jayce, because it would seem inescapable that Viktor had chosen to save Jayce and to let Mel die, perhaps out of jealousy. It might have been a split second decision and not really Viktor's fault, but from Jayce's point of view it would be difficult if not impossible to be around Viktor in the early fallout and pain of her death/injury.

At some point, I thought an injured Mel might come back with hexcore/arcane power, thus making Jayce even more wildly conflicted about how to feel towards Viktor and thus leave him at the mercy of the Arcane speaking through Mel as its avatar.

And y'all. Y'ALL.

COMPLETE 180 FROM THAT

Mel might be the one who has some sort of magical enchantment forcefield around her. Those gold tattoos and her gold eyes in the womb in Ambessa's video are starting to look really suspicious as some sort of built-in protection she has that she may have consciously or unconsciously extended to Jayce (when he moved to shield her) either by accident or on purpose.

Viktor was the one horribly injured into near death/a coma, taken over by the hexcore, and likely to cause Jayce a great deal of conflicted emotions later when the Arcane speak through him (I can't wait).

Mel might know she saved Jayce and damned Viktor in a split second decision that was not out of jealousy, but it might appear that way to an angry and hurt outsider like Jayce. Jayce finding out that she had this protection might serve as a point of conflict for them later.

That said, I'm somewhat doubtful of this being a long term point of conflict from Jayce towards Mel because I think Jayce would be more happy she's alive but it's possible she at least fears this possibility. It's not clear yet if she even has such a protection, and if she does if she knows about it. Plus we kinda have passed the moment where I think it would start a fight between Jayce and Mel, or more than a brief feeling of betrayal on his part (since I doubt he would expect Mel to save Viktor, let alone with such a brief window to even make such a choice, if it's a choice by her at all) , but it's interesting that Mel says that people just randomly surviving disasters is a thing that happens unpredictably, perhaps lending to an interpretation that this sort of thing happens a weird amount of times to her and she may or may not know why.

ANYWAY! I'm sort of in awe of how exactly the bomb aftermath was the exact opposite of what I'd predicted, and how well it works and continues to work in the show, honestly, I'm a bit feral about how good the writing is in this show overall

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Day.10 ~ Dragons against the cold ~

Aemond x fem!reader

warning : fluff, kissing, comfort, cuddling, mentioning of war

Summary : Even though the dragons were dancing and fire was everywhere, it was still winter that came over Westeros and so did the snow, a snow that could do nothing against the warmth of Aemond and his dragoness Vhagar when he flew out with his wife.

info : I knew at least one had to come from hotd and hey Aemond needs a little winter love. I hope you enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the air got colder the higher he flew with Vhagar he hardly noticed, not only did he fly with Vhagar relatively covered but the dragoness was so infused with the warmth of her fire that he never froze.

At most, the newly hatched and small dragons of his niece and nephew felt cold, but not the queen of dragons, whose scaly leathery skin probably never really knew the feeling.

A feeling of trembling, of fear of retreat when he went into battle alone, not knowing how long the war would drag on...for who else would face his half-sister?

From the moment this war began Aegon had to be protected, the queen was in deep mourning after the loss of the prince and he, Aemond was the only one who could and would fight.

,,How long will you keep this up until I lose you?” his wife's voice made him pause, the morning was early, breath coming like mist over his lips as the one-eyed prince turned to her.

She was wrapped in his robe, the night they had spent together long overdue, the taste of her kisses, her softness and love it was what drove him on, what kept him going, ,,As long as it takes for the black to fall but Vhagar and I will be victorious...we always are” he countered, his steps coming back to her.

Fine hands stroked her cheek while the spahir flashed in his eyes as she kissed him goodbye, ,,Then be victorious today too, may the stranger have mercy on the snowstorm” she let him ride out of the palace to join Vhagar.

All she could do on this snowy morning was look up at the sky to see him fly away and keep her family company and support.

Be it reassuring Aegon, trying to ease Helaena's sorrow, making Alicent realize how urgent the strike was and showing Otto the letters and promises of the lords once more.

She tried what she could while her heart yearned for her beloved, whom she prayed would return, that winter would be merciful...until the moment he didn't come back one morning, even in the evening.

Her tears had already stained the pillow and her nightgown, her brother-in-law was raging, her sister-in-law was weeping bitterly and the Widow Queen was almost dying of worry, Otto had not given up hope with Ser Criston.

Until the moment when winds blew around her room, massive wing beats could be heard and she heard the door to her room open, ,,Do not frighten my heart, I promised I would return...I had been looking for a place for our quiet moment,” he whispered as he sat down by her bed, dried her tears with his hands and placed a kiss on her fingers.

Tear veiled eyes looked at him as he wrapped her in a winter cloak and lifted her into his arms in one movement, ,,What is this?” she asked as he simply carried her out of the palace to his horse, probably to return to Vhagar who was waiting outside.

But he didn't answer the question, instead he just had a small smile on his lips, a smile she had only seen when he had teased his nephews and seemed to be cheerful.

Aemond's arms closed around hers as Vhagar rose to fly north and she soon stopped shivering as the dragoness's warmth spread to their bodies, ,,It's nice isn't it?” he asked and she agreed, the warmth of the fire was really nice, like sitting in front of a fire but not burning.

The minutes and hours that passed were interspersed with kisses, tender words and kisses before he shook her slightly awake and she saw what he had discovered, just before the border of the north of the Stark, a huge waterfall had frozen and was now glittering like a giant crystal in the rising sunlight.

,,This is beautiful,” she said, leaning forward slightly on the saddle, Aemond sitting behind her, a look of contentment on his face, it was a place of peace without the fervor of war, a moment of retreat and no hatred, a moment he could finally enjoy alone with his beloved.

,,Only you are more beautiful" he smirked and watched her smile before pulling her lips into another kiss as the roar of Vhagar could be heard as the frozen waterfall began to cast a peaceful rainbow for the lovers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[niuniente]

Congratulations on the yeeterus! Just as a heads-up, you're gonna feel like you've got the WORST period cramps for a few days while your muscles readjust, and you're gonna have to pee WAY more often after the procedure, just, like, on the regular. At least that's how the whole recovery thing went for me. Good luck!

Thank you for the yeetus(!!) tips! I've been in such horrible daily pains the past 3 years - to that extend that I had to ask a doctor that how much pain killers can I have without over-dozing myself - that I'm not afraid of the post-surgery pains. I get ready for the frequent toilet trips by making sure I stay hydrated so thanks for that heads up!

What I do worry a bit is the climb up to my apartment. Two sets of stairs as this building has no elevator. My gyno said that it won't be an issue but I sure it's going to be painful.

I hope to recover quickly so I can then return fully to a job hunt (unless I already get a job before that).

I have had anemia since I was a child (I think I was born anemic, that can happen when your mother has anemia while being pregnant) so I can't imagine how I will feel after the iron infusion. I hope it is akin to that lovely post of a person getting a hearing aid and going "You can hear dry leafs on the ground?! You can hear rain outside?! Amazing!". I hope that in my case it's like "You can walk stairs up without dying?! You can exercise?! You can clean and not feel like a zombie after?! Amazing!"

I'm really, really, really looking forward to a more sporty and active lifestyle after I've fully healed. Maybe I'll go back to naginata lessons? Perhaps I start dancing? Or go acting again (it's surprisingly physical)? Maybe I can finally take boxing lessons or go to try savate?

So many possibilities! *u*

[loonexists]

Hyperfixation strikes back and I'm absolutely not normal about how tragic Gordon's character actually is once again.

A lot of words in very bad English (because I clearly don't get enough sleep) under the cut.

Okay so Gordon and Warren as the main characters are obviously dualistic. They work as a duo for that exact reason and it's mostly about the way they handle things. They balance each other and stuff but that's not my point. My point is that they're not only dualistic when it comes to their personality. They're also dualistic when it comes to how they're presented in the story itself not taking the plot and interactions with other characters.

We know a lot about Warren's past. And it's really an interesting thing about him as an amnesiac character. We KNOW him because we know his past. We even know something about his time as a convict because we get to hear him on the records from that time. He doesn't know a lot about himself but we as the observers do.

But for Gordon it's quite the opposite. We know only the bear essentials about his past and most of it is not really that huge. Like OK he played in a band and yet we don't even know for sure what instrument he played. We know his favorite movies and his love for the macabre but it's not his past, it's just who he is on the outside, something anyone can see without looking too deep. We know that's he's half Brazilian on his mother's side and yet we don't even know his parents' names or anything about them at all. I mean we can assume they were neglectful to his feelings from the 'you know who belongs in a jar like that' part and the way he behaves in general but it's not really a lot of information. And it's not like he's being secretive about it, it's just that no one ever cares to ask. And that's exactly what I find so tragic about him.

He's always left neglected. His feelings don't matter to anyone if we're being completely honest. The closest he gets to being seen is when after a fight in a tunnel Warren lets him go back first because 'You don't like being here on your own'. And it's coming from Warren, the closest person he has, and as much as it's appreciated, I really don't think it's enough considering all the trauma Gordon has to constantly go through.

Aubrey is also neglectful to him as she is usually only concerned about Warren.

And yeah, I get it, it's really not the time and place to care about such things as feelings. And yet Gordon always made time to check on Warren, to comfort him, to at least offer his company.

And the most tragic part is that he got shot and went into the pod just as neglected as he always was. And it's not about the degraded infusion, it's about the way he was treated by the only two people he could trust. It's about how Aubrey just contacted him on her own knowing full well that it could get him in serious trouble and potentially murdered. It's about Warren's indifference (though it wasn't really his fault, the man just learned he's a murderer, he really should get a break. But Gordon didn't know about that so imagine how it must'd looked like to the poor dude). And then he was left for 44 years and now nobody can even tell what his condition is in there. 'You don't fucking know, do you?'

So YEAH. In conclusion. Gordon needs to get his fucking hugs and apologies. And he needs to get his shit considered and appreciated. And like. A life long therapy.

[ryin-silverfish]

disjointed LMK S5 reactions from a Chinese sub + dub watcher:

-the animation looks somewhat better than the trailer suggests.

-the worldbuilding, however, is...confusing.

-don't get me wrong, the emotional and character beats still hit right, but...the more I try to make sense of the worldbuilding, the less sense it makes.

(at least my fears about the Ten Kings conspiracy didn't come true, the 9 non-traitor kings are still pathetic pushovers that got [spoilered] by [spoilered].)

-welp, I will attempt to do so anyways. Spoilers under cut:

-In the beginning, someone or something made the Pillar of Creation to ward the world from Chaos.

-Which isn't how Chaos works in the Chinese cosmology, btw, but LMK is mostly its own vaguely JTTW-inspired fantasy setting at this point, so I'll try to keep the mythos-nitpicking to a minimum.

-Then some guy cracked the pillar (in the mythos, that would be Gonggong, but S5 does not mention a single name), and Nvwa had to make the Five-colored Stone + sacrifice herself to fix it.

-The "sacrifice" here is mostly her/her soul getting stuck inside the pillar for eternity, though, since MK still got to talk to her once he entered it.

-Each Five-colored Stone is attached to a Divine Guardian, who also serve as the stone's container, so to speak. They seem to remain outside of the pillar as anchors of reality.

-These guardians are the Divine Beasts of the Four Directions + JE himself, which is why Azure killing JE has such detrimental effects on reality.

-For every Five-colored Stone removed from its container, said container is destroyed, the cracks in reality widen, and the end of the "Cycle" draws near.

-Apart from the Five-colored Stone, Nvwa also created the Harbinger...at some point, and placed it inside SWK's stone, presumably after he has already hatched from it (based on Subodhi's words in S4 that MK is born from the same stone, after SWK).

-This Harbinger is supposed to sleep inside forever, awakening only at the end of the "Cycle" so that he can sacrifice himself to maintain the pillar, keep the encroaching Chaos at bay, and maybe give the world a soft reboot in the process or sth.

-Enter: the Nine-headed Demon, king of monologues and convoluted metaphors, a descendent of Xiangliu——another nine-headed serpentine monster from the Chinese mythos (said to be a subordinate of Gonggong in the Books of Mountains and Seas, who was slew by Yu the Great.)

-My attempt to make sense of his metaphor: basically, he used to live happily inside this Chaos-free bubble too (dark cave), alongside people who have never seen outside of it before, until he walked outside, dived into Chaos (sunlight), and went "Hey, it isn't all that bad! No, it's awesome!"

-Unsurprisingly, when he returned to the world inside the bubble and tried to convince his pals to take the Chaos bath together with him, he got rejected by everyone and turned edgy.

-He impersonated the Tenth King of the Underworld, King of the Turning Wheel, and proceeded to awaken the Harbinger prematurely.

-Supposedly, it's because he wanted the Harbinger to have experienced life for himself in the fullest, instead of waking up only to walk like a lamb to the slaughter.

-But his motivation is pretty confusing, tbh, and hearing Pigsy calling him out for never shutting the fuck up is funny as hell.

(Despite that? I kinda like his personality.)

-What MK did at the end of S5 is...well, the way I see it, he is still using the Five-Colored Stone as reality anchors, but instead of infusing their powers into a single mega-strong container, able to withstand the massive strain, every living being become a container, holding reality in place through quantity rather than quality.

-However, the anti-Chaos barrier does seem to have weakened; before Nine-head escaped into the "Chaos Outside" once and for all like he always wanted, he said that MK had opened the "Pandora's Box", so to speak.

-My completely arbitary theory: the anti-Chaos barrier before is like a giant roof, held up by 5 pillars. Take out 1 pillar, and the whole thing is guaranteed to come crashing down, sooner or later.

-The new one is like a net, with each individual functioning as its individual threads. It can do its job——holding reality together, but also leaves a lot of little holes for the Chaos Outside to slip in and out.

[a11eya]

birthday post!! warning, yapping ahead!!!

saturday morning was overcast, misty. quiet. the roads leading into town were winding, lined by unfamiliar trees. the sun burned off the mist, revealing clear blue skies, and i branched off onto a different road which brought me to the ranch.

the ranch had chickens and turkeys, baby donkeys and full grown pigs. alpacas and a cow! but everywhere i looked were ponies and horses. some stabled, some tied to a hitching post, some being trained in a corral.

the horse i rode that day is a former competition rodeo ropes horse named walt! he's fifteen, all white. there was one other rider there aside from our guide, and that rider's horse's name is marley. she used to jump hoops!

single file, with our guide in front, marley in the middle, and me and walt last, we set out on an hour-long trail through the bed of a former river. it's overgrown now with greenery, shrubs and small trees. the dirt trails were still littered with rocks, big and small, and poor marley must have slipped on them at least five times.

walt was very patient with me. the goodest, bestest boy. i know a little of the basics. a good seat requires balance, good posture. makes it easier for the horse to carry you. how to handle the reins for steering, how to urge the horse to go and or ask it to stop. i've ridden horses before, but you can count the number of times on two hands. so walt was patient. despite the fact i had to adjust my seat a couple times, despite the fact that he was last in a single file line with the longest legs of the three horses.

if you've never ridden a horse, there's an initial discomfort to overcome. straddling the horse's back, adjusting to its gait. paying attention to the road ahead of you. but once you get situated, that all fades to the background.

the rustling of small animals in the brush, the birds flitting back and forth. i heard the screech of some kind of hawk overhead, in a sky whose blue stretched far, uninterrupted by even a single cloud. the dust the horses kicked up as they walked, their snorts as they cleared their noses, the thud of their hooves against the ground.

we finished up around 11:30 AM. though i'd planned to have lunch after riding, i found i wasn't hungry just yet. so i set off to the olive grove where the olive oil tasting was happening.

the grove was out on the other end of town, out where there were more ranches and farms growing food. i passed an orange orchard that, spoilers, i ended up buying clementines from at the farmer's market i went to on sunday (more on that later, maybe).

at the entrance of the grove, there was a building, the tasting room, where containers of olive oil and balsamic vinegar lined one wall. you're given a wooden tray with circular indentations in it, deep enough to allow a small disposable cup (think—the kind you put pump condiments like ketchup for fries out into at restaurants) to sit in. next to each indentation is a label engraved into the wood to delineate between the oils and vinegar. you're also given a small loaf of sourdough baguette to rip apart into dippable pieces to taste with.

you make your way along the line of containers, filling your small cups yourself. they had a selection of extra virgin olive oils, infused olive oils, and interesting balsamic vinegars.

outside, they had picnic tables and hammocks under a small canopy of trees where you could sit and take your time tasting. i tried the olive oils first.

for the most part, the olive oil i've had has been cooking olive oil. the big containers you can get at costco, or at the grocery store. i've had good olive oil only a few times, back when i was in italy a couple years ago and wasn't in the headspace to really appreciate it. so i didn't really know what to expect from this tasting experience.

my brother-in-law asked me what i was surprised by from this experience, or something i learned from it. and it sounds so pretentious, but. i told him it's that you can really taste the notes in each olive oil, the ones that're mentioned in their descriptions. even just in the uninfused olive oils. the mild, buttery flavor of a more mellow oil and the spicy, almost peppery flavor of a more intense one. the way that a balsamic vinegar tones down or complements an olive oil when tried together.

they had a delicious garlic infused olive oil, a white truffle olive oil. a rosemary one, a lemon one. aside from their traditional balsamic vinegar, they had a peach one, a fig one, an expresso one, a cinnamon pear one. apparently, you can make a great lemon cake with the lemon-infused olive oil, or a bubbly, carbonated drink with the peach balsamic vinegar.

i ended up going home with an extra virgin olive oil made with olives from their heritage grove (peppery, spicy), the white truffle infused oil, and their traditional balsamic vinegar. i got my sister and brother-in-law an extra virgin olive oil that's smoother, milder, fruitier, and the peach balsamic vinegar—super sweet.

finally, i went for lunch. nothing too interesting to note.

following lunch, i headed over to an outdoor bookstore! it was lovely, exposed to the sky, greenery and plants everywhere. i ended up buying a book on art—The Artist's Palette by Alexandra Loske. it takes 50 artists from the 16th century until now and dives deep into one of their paintings and its color palette, the techniques used to create the painting.

i happened to pick it up because it caught my eye, and upon flipping through it, it fell open to the section on Artemisa Gentileschi. during my undergrad, i took a class on art history to fulfill some requirement, and in that class i wrote a paper on artemisa. she achieved a hell of a lot as an artist during a time when women weren't given opportunities to achieve, particularly in male-dominated circles. if you're curious, one of her most notable works is Judith Slaying Holofernes (warning for violence/blood/death). she's stuck with me, even after all these years, and the book opening to her section felt a little like fate.

after the bookstore, i headed to a wine tasting. i'm not a big alcohol person, and even less so now that i'm out of my 20s, but the area is known for things like their food, their olives, their wine.

my server was super sweet. she gave me a glass of rose on the house, and i didn't even tell her it was my birthday. i ordered a tasting menu of four white wines, and i sat at my table people-watching as i sipped.

it was still a little early for dinner, so i took a walk through downtown and came across a very busy park, despite the chill and setting sun. kids were running around, crawling all over the slides and monkey bars. people were walking their dogs. so i sat on a bench for a while and just let my mind empty as the blue sky flared in yellows and pinks and purples.