#the way this year is almost over and it's still providing gems like this

[mythicalmangos]

ORVILLE PECK on GOOD MYTHICAL MORNING

[dorothylarouge]

Dorothy's Top Five Games of 2024

Honorable Mentions:

Suzerain: A gripping and fully-developed world of politics and international relations, Suzerain released its Rizia DLC this year, and I played through both it and the main campaign. Its realistic portrayal of political and economic processes, in the backdrop of a world almost our own, proved extremely addictive.

Goodbye Volcano High: A heartfelt and moving interactive animated miniseries about coming of age in apocalyptic times, with some great indie rock-flavored music.

We Love Katamari Reroll: A delightful followup to the original Katamari Damacy, We Love Katamari is more of the same - and what more could you ask?

Sea of Stars: A beautiful love letter to classic JRPGs, with gorgeous environments, delightful timing-based combat, endearing characters, and wonderful music, including guest tracks composed by legend Yasunori Mitsuda.

Dragon Age: the Veilguard: Now the story of a studio who lost everything, and the one game that had no choice but to get them back on track. It’s Arrested Development.

And now, the list proper.

Fifth Place: Penny's Big Breakaway (Evening Star)

I have a tremendous soft spot for 3D platformers. Some of my earliest memories of video games involve playing Super Mario Sunshine, Sonic Adventure 2, and Spyro (the bad one) on GameCube.

Penny's Big Breakaway feels like a refugee from that era of platformer, one which would have felt at home on the Dreamcast, GameCube, or even the original Xbox or PlayStation 2. It combines energetic, almost frantic platforming with a high skill ceiling and combo system with a turn-of-the-century graphical aesthetic and fantastic music by Tee Lopes to provide a return to form for a genre which has for too long been permitted to languish.

As with most 3D platformers, story is not a major focus. You play as Penny, a yo-yo-toting busker who ends up running afoul of an emperor and must escape imprisonment by his army of colorful penguins. That's it. That's all you need. This simple premise provides ample excuse for Penny to run, jump, and roll her way through a host of themed worlds. Sometimes, less is more.

With that said, this is not a perfect game. The controls take a lot of time and effort to master, and even after a good amount of play time one is liable to fling oneself off of the map. Health powerups are not as plentiful as they should be, especially in boss encounters, and a lack of camera control can be downright painful at times. Still, these complaints do not ruin the game, and hopefully they can be addressed in a sequel.

The developers of Sonic Mania have created a true gem with this, the debut game from new studio Evening Star, and I look forward to seeing what the studio comes out next - like the best platformer mascots, Penny has the charisma and style to inspire adventures for years to come.

Fourth Place: Neva (Nomada Studio)

Neva is the latest release from Nomada Studio, creators of the brilliant game Gris, and where Gris was a parable of grief and loss, Neva is an ecological fable in which a girl and her dog must make their way through an increasingly-ravaged natural world beset by decay and corruption.

The core gameplay of Neva builds and iterates upon what was seen in Gris, with a dash, double jump, and ground pound, but added in are a sword, which main character Alba uses to fight enemies as well as unlock obstacles, and abilities involving the titular dog which are unlocked over the course of the game. The combat is fun but fairly rudimentary, and I saw it as a garnish on the real focus of the game, which is robust and engaging puzzle platforming of the kind that made Gris such a delight.

The game, as expected of Nomada Studio, is gorgeous, with a beautiful art style, impeccable sound design, brilliant use of color, and haunting, atmospheric music. The level design is also excellent, spanning a number of natural environments which are slowly but surely overtaken by the creeping decay, as well as man-made structures resembling those in Gris, which are also crumbling and in a state of decay. The degradation of nature and collapse of the structures of man are linked in Neva, giving rise to uncomfortable thoughts about the state of the world today.

Neva is defined by cycles, cycles of life, death, decomposition, and the cycle of the seasons, which give each of the game's four chapters their names. The game ends in an echo of its beginning, a beautiful and bittersweet ending I will not spoil here.

Neva is a hauntingly beautiful, if frustratingly short, gaming experience which I think will stay with me for a long time. I felt compelled to hug my dog after it was done.

Third Place: Metaphor: ReFantazio (Studio Zero)

When Metaphor was first announced, the impression that everyone got was that it was fantasy Persona, with a large amount of development staff carried over from the Hashino Persona games, a lot of mechanics and systems carried over from those games, and even some summonable demons from the mainline Persona and Shin Megami Tensei games. Commentators made note that this was fantasy Persona. Journalists endlessly referred to it as fantasy Persona. Reviewers regarded it as fantasy Persona. It was such a cliche, so aggravating to fans, that it became verboten in the fanbase to refer to the game as fantasy Persona.

Metaphor: ReFantazio is fantasy Persona. This is in no way a bad thing. As in the Hashino Persona games, there is an emphasis on social simulation, with the main character forging bonds with his party members and honing his social skills - not to self-actualize as a social being, as in Persona, but to prove his mettle and worthiness as a king to a kingdom cast into chaos after the last king's murder.

It is this emphasis on fantasy that sets Metaphor apart. The game is constantly musing on fantasy tropes and the transformative nature of the genre, and it has a surprising amount to say about the appeal of fantasy narratives, to say nothing of its overarching themes of prejudice and self-determination.

In terms of gameplay, Metaphor actually takes a lot more from the Press Turn system of Shin Megami Tensei than the One More system of Persona, and it took me a while to get into the groove of it. Once I did, though, I had a great time chaining attacks to strike at opponents' weaknesses and finishing my turns with devastating damage via the game's Synthesis mechanic. The game's central gameplay feature, the Archetype system - a sort of job system like those in Sqaure Enix RPGs - was also something I took to readily after some initial fiddling. The game lets you mix and match abilities from different archetypes via the skill inheritance system, and I had a lot of fun creating an ideal build for each playable character.

And then, of course, there's the characters. Metaphor features a large cast of characters, and I was happy to see that all of the social link equivalents featured strong and compelling narratives that made the time needed to invest in each rank of their story a worthy commitment. In particular, I found the narratives of Eupha, Heismay, and Maria especially compelling, and the bonuses provided through spending time with them to be particularly valuable.

Metaphor: ReFantazio is fantasy Persona. And that's a good thing! It's a great game, and I hope it's one that gets revisited sooner rather than later. Studio Zero have produced a real gem for their debut title, and I really hope they keep the momentum going.

Second Place: Ghost of Tsushima: Director's Cut (Sucker Punch Productions)

I am a huge fan of the works of director Akira Kurosawa - Throne of Blood is my favorite film of all time - and the jidaigeki genre of samurai films in general, so when I learned that Sucker Punch was making a game inspired by the genre I was filled with excitement which turned to dismay when I learned that the game would be PlayStation exclusive. Thankfully, though, little stays PlayStation exclusive for long, and I was happy to finally play Ghost of Tsushima when its Director's Cut released on PC this year.

The setup of Ghost of Tsushima is pretty simple, and slots in nicely with its genre - you play as Jin Sakai, the sole survivor of a massacre of samurai at the hands of invading Mongols, and must use all the tools at your disposal to free the jito, your uncle, and liberate your island home of Tsushima. Along the way, you begin to chafe at the code of honor you are expected to uphold as a samurai and as your uncle's heir apparent. While Ghost does have a simple premise, it is its characters, and their struggles and dreams, which kept me invested throughout the experience.

The game's combat is consistently satisfying, with the player rotating through various swordfighting stances to counter specific enemy types, while also having access to a bow, bombs, poison darts, and various quickfire items which can disrupt enemies and allow you to control the flow of combat. It's a fun system to master and learn how to get through any encounter without taking any damage. Occasionally the game also puts you in one on one duels with certain enemies, which are always fantastic - the one at the end of the game especially.

Where Ghost really shines, though, is in its exploration. I wouldn't call Ghost of Tsushima a true open world game - the player's access to the island's various regions is gated by story progression, and you unlock more of Tsushima as you progress, while having free reign of any area you have access to at any given time. The game heavily rewards exploration with a variety of activities and collectibles, which differentiate themselves from the typical Ubisoft-style open world icons by being fun, useful, and engaging. You'll scale mountains to reach a shrine to a kami, or rest for a while in a hot spring to increase your health, or (anachronistically as the art form did not exist in the 13th century) compose a haiku to earn a new piece of cosmetic gear. You'll also follow a number of character-based side stories, one-off side quests, and mythic tales which unlock powerful abilities and armor, all of which are extremely engaging and memorable. I would liken Ghost of Tsushima to last year's Tears of the Kingdom in terms of just how good it feels to explore and discover the island of Tsushima's beautiful environments, and uncover all of its secrets.

As a lover of the genre, I could barely put Ghost of Tsushima down in my initial playthrough of over 70 hours. It more than earns its spot on the list, but there's just one game I think left even more of a mark on me this year.

First Place: Persona 3 Reload (P-Studio)

I am a recent convert to the Persona series, having first played Persona 5 Royal in 2022 and playing Persona 4 Golden when it released on Xbox in 2023. However, I have fallen deeply in love with the series, and when Persona 3 Reload was announced I made the decision that I had to play it on release day. I called out of work and preordered the game - something I never do - and through a combination of being trapped in my home by a massive storm and losing my job the next week, I ended up plowing through Persona 3 Reload in about a week. I simply couldn't put the game down.

I had very little knowledge of the story or characters of Persona 3, having never played my copy of Persona 3 Portable since this game was announced so soon after that released, and so experiencing this narrative for the first time was an experience I'll never forget. Persona 3 is a game about death which is simultaneously extremely life-affirming, celebrating the relationships, connections, and simple joys that make life worth living, while embracing the fact that everyone must someday die and using that fact as motivation to live every day to the fullest. It is a moving, emotional story anchored by rich, engaging characters. I cried several times throughout.

The gameplay of Persona 3 Reload, a refinement on the turn-based systems of previous entries, is polished to a shine, and I found myself blowing through whole blocks of Tartarus, the game's only dungeon, in a single in-game night due to how engaging and addictive the combat felt. It felt extremely rewarding to find effective combos and a synergistic team that could raise each character's Theurgy gauge as quickly as possible, and the structure of Tartarus hooked me in surprisingly effectively, given that I wasn't a big fan of Persona 4's TV Wortld dungeons, or Persona 5's Mementos, dungeons with a similar structure to Tartarus. It helps that there's a surprising amount to do in Tartarus, from rescuing lost civilians to fulfilling requests for the Velvet Room attendant Elizabeth to exploring the various Monad Doors and plundering their rare items.

Persona 3 Reload is a very special game, one that I think will stick with me for a very long time. I can easily see why fans had been clamoring for a remake for so long, and I am extremely grateful that we finally got this game as a result. It is a genuine masterpiece, and easily takes the title of my game of the year.

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

both of you

this song is incredibly special.

it’s almost like it’s over isn’t it is the questions. as i said in my post about it’s over isn’t it, johnston said that pearl feels lost and out of place by the end of the song. both of you has the answers!

steven

i love that steven is the one who sings it. it helps greg & pearl connect, because they’re raising steven. steven reassures them that he feels loved. more loved than greg felt as a kid, along with rose and pearl, who never even got to be kids. pearl also saw how pink was treated in her early years.

rose would be proud of both of them.

rose symbolism

of course, steven is singing the song, but they can still sense rose’s love and lingering presence.

pearl tends to notice the personality and speaking pattern similarities between steven and his mother. in rose’s scabbard, she said, “sometimes, you even sound like her.” so, steven singing the song helps with certain epiphanies and needed closure.

he also has her gem, and when he sings the first, “you both love me and i love both of you,” a tear falls from his eye. to me, it represents rose’s healing tears. interesting, because:

“steven, your mother had healing tears that flowed from her gem. she felt real love for those around her. she felt real sorrow when they were hurt.” — garnet, an indirect kiss.

it definitely symbolizes what rose would say to them if she was alive.

after that line, greg & pearl tear up, too. pearl tears up exactly like she does in the scene where she says steven sometimes sounds like rose (after: well, i think you’re pretty great).

she’s also symbolized by the rose petals in the air and the light around steven being pink. which brings me to my next point.

colour symbolism

the light around steven is pink, symbolizing his mother. rose’s colour was pink, and she also happens to be pink diamond—something that is only known by pearl at the time.

the light on greg is yellow and the light on pearl is blue... which symbolizes a lot of different things.

foreshadowing, for one thing. somewhere on homeworld, blue and yellow are at odds as they’re dealing with the loss of pink. pink, who became rose. this scene gives us a hint about rose’s secret, because eventually we meet blue & yellow and we hear what’s the use of feeling blue. obviously these are two completely different situations involving two completely different people, but it’s a pink diamond hint.

their colours also represent things about greg & pearl in particular.

yellow symbolizes optimism and light, the way greg tries to keep life light for the people he cares about. this is both good and flawed. while he likes living in the moment, he never wanted to have deep conversations & talk about the past. sometimes it can be a form of avoidance, especially when things are unhealed, important, or impacting the present and future.

as i said in my last analysis, greg and pearl are two different extremes & opposites.

blue symbolizes order, loyalty, honesty… but blue also symbolizes sadness. she keeps secrets, always tries to take care of everyone, and it makes her forget about herself. blue also symbolizes timidity, just as the confusing situation, personal insecurity (i.e., always focused on what she can do for her/how she can help her, yet rose could find comfort in simply who pearl is), and pain has made her believe that rose didn’t love her as much as she loved her.

as they bond, he finally provides a sense of warmth that helps with the coldness she feels, and she allows him to really feel everything that he often tries to avoid.

“why don’t you talk to each other, just give it a try. why don’t you talk about what happened, i know you’re trying to avoid it but i don’t know why.” — steven, both of you

it’s funny, the way that these lyrics point out some of their major flaws and how it’s worsened their grief. greg avoids talking about emotional topics, and pearl hasn’t tried to talk to greg about rose and the reasons behind her death, because she has distanced herself from him. which is a very realistic and understandable thing to do, especially in early grief. however, talking to each other makes her realize what really happened. lastly, i don’t know why is related to rose. she didn’t know that they were at odds, she didn’t know how the norms of human relationships worked. despite we need to talk, there were still many things that were left unsaid between… everyone. she was often stuck in her own mind, which was not the best place to be, so she was quite oblivious to the things that were going on around her. heck, she was stuck wondering why two great people cared for her.

the conversation

greg: look, if i were you, i’d hate me, too.

pearl: i don’t hate you.

greg: but i knew how you felt about rose and i stayed anyway.

pearl: that wasn’t the problem.

greg: then, what was?

pearl: she fell in love with you.

pearl’s “blue” allows greg to finally look back at painful memories from the past. as he speaks, his voice sounds similar to how he sounded when he was just 22. he acknowledges the fact that he should have asked more questions about pearl’s love with rose, along with understanding the differences between gem and human relationships. he knows he avoids heavy topics and gem topics, but he recognizes that despite his efforts in we need to talk, he regrets not attempting more communication between all of them. he’s able to have regrets instead of focusing solely on the positives and the present.

doing so helps pearl get some closure. she also has her own epiphany which helps her want to be greg’s friend: he was the first human who cared for rose enough to actually build a meaningful connection with her. she realizes why she said, “i was fine, with the men…” earlier. greg was different. but in a good way, really.

of course she worried about greg being rose’s favourite: not only does she struggle to understand human relationships, but his bond with rose was the first bond she had with a human that wasn’t meaningless like her past bonds. pearl felt confused and everyone was avoiding conversations for different reasons.

and yet, in the background, steven sings, you both love me and i love both of you.

she always did what she wanted!

this line represents the positive and the negative reasons behind rose’s decision to give up her physical form.

while greg and pearl are around each other and they’re allowed to see the situation in a new light, keep in mind that they never switch colours. pearl’s light remains blue and greg’s light remains yellow.

pearl always wondered: “why did she choose to create life with him and die, over living with me forever? she not love me enough?” she questioned this earlier, during it’s over isn’t it, but as i said earlier, both of you gives her the answers.

you both love me, and i love both of you. she seems to get this epiphany that rose loved everyone who loved her. she loved them as much as they loved her. she loved them the exact same way they loved her. no more, no less.

there is no single reason behind behind rose’s death, but the reasons are unrelated to rose choosing someone. the reasons are related to her and steven.

—> pearl’s symbolism

“that wasn’t the problem… then, what was?”

as pearl realizes that rose did fall in love with her, too, she realizes that falling in love with anyone wasn’t really the problem.

the problem was, she’d fall in love… and she’d love whoever she loved far more than she could ever love herself.

as the show continues to progress, pearl is realizing just how much rose was in love with her, but she’s also simultaneously realizing just how much rose didn’t love herself.

she will no longer look back at the memories and say, “i wish she loved me as much as i loved her,” she’ll say, “i wish she loved herself as much as i loved her.”

pearl represents the rose-related reasons behind this decision: how she thought everyone was better than her & would be better off without her.

“people would be drawn to her, gems would be drawn to her, and i don’t know if they would necessarily realize that she was worshipping them, which was compounding her own sadness.” — rebecca sugar

pearl says, “she always did what she wanted!” close to tears. it symbolizes the pain behind rose’s decision.

—> greg’s symbolism

as steven’s father, greg and steven share similarities. they look alike, and he also has this memory:

“but you, you're supposed to change. you’re never the same, even moment to moment, you're allowed and expected to invent who you are. what an incredible power… the ability to grow up.” — greg the babysitter

greg represents the steven-related reasons behind rose’s death: her love for humanity, growth, creating life on her own, creating someone who she knew would be a gift to those she loved, and her love for steven.

rose’s death was a tragedy, and nothing can change that. there were heartbreaking reasons behind her death.

at the same time, this doesn’t mean she loved steven any less! she loved him so much, and she was so excited for him to exist.

in a way, this song gives answers to everyone, honest answers.

all three of them are loved by rose in different ways, genuinely and deeply. the only person she didn’t love enough was herself.

greg says, “she always did what she wanted!” with a laugh at the end. it symbolizes the warmth and love behind rose’s decision, and the wonderful person that they have in their lives. steven is a gift from rose.

final thoughts

steven, pearl, and greg all grow together in this song. it’s special, because this was something rose loved the most: growth. it will always be tragic, because she loved them all and she loved growth, but she never believed she could grow and she couldn’t love herself.

still, this song gives them a sense of closure and reassurance. they learn from each other and see the situation for how it truly is. they experience rose’s presence and they are able to bond once they realize they have a lot in common: they’re grieving, they’re raising a kid they both love. they’re able to do this with the realization that there really was no love triangle here, no choosing someone over the other. no one said, “yeah, i’ll just accept that she loved you more,” or “well, i mean, she loved you like a friend!” because that’s not the case.

i love this song so much, and it’s so underrated yet so deep and complicated.

[hayden-christensen-verse]

🥀Memento Mori Memento Vivere🌿

Summery: Clay is due for his heart surgery and overhears a plot to end his life. destressed clay leaves the hospital to sit on a bench to make sense of this revelation, someone takes notice of the sadness and betrayal and comforts him. Unknowingly it is death who provides such comfort

warnings: mentions of conspiracy to murder, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft loving smut bc clay deserves it, happy ending (lmk if I missed anything)

reader outfit

readers dress

clays god outfit

clays ring

edit lol: I'm eating sour gummy worms and hot chocolate as I write this, plus reader is kind of based on lady death from the marvel comics, it's just how I think she look like

Edit 2: the picture of the graves is mine that I took about 2 ish years ago :)

clay pov

I stumble out of the hospital doors, me bare feet dragging along the concrete. I make my way to the nearby park and find the nearest bench and sit down with my face in my hands. I sob as I replay the words that I hear from my friend and my gf Sam, they were planning to kill me while I'm in surgery. My mom was right, I shouldn't have pursued a relationship. I drag my hands down my face looking down at the ground, and soon I see a pair of black heels before I look up and see a breathtakingly beautiful woman. her long (h/c) loose and wavy flowing over her shoulders, her captivating (e/c) with gold makeup and red lipstick. her one sleeved black jumper with a deep v-line and a gold belt, her fingers wrapped with gold rings and wrists with gold bracelets. she smiles at me with her kind eyes shining warmly before she sits next to me

no ones pov

"Now what's wrong with you sweet boy?" she says softly, her voice kind and understanding, not pushing to know what is wrong. "My girlfriend Sam and a trusted friend planned to kill me and take all my money and such," Clay says softly, tears still running down his face. her face twists into anger and sympathy, she reaches her hand out and rubs comforting circles on his hospital gown clad back. "Oh, that's so horrible, sweet boy, nobody deserves that at all" she says sweetly. The two continue to talk before Clay checks the time and sees that it is almost time for the surgery, she gets up and bids him goodbye and wishes his surgery goes well, he watches as she disappears into the crowd. Clay stands up and walks back to the hospital and goes along with the surgery but under the hand of his mother's doctors.

y/n pov

After I walk away, I quickly turn into my actual form and out of my human form. I fly over to the hospital and through the wall, searching for the beautiful blonde man and soon I find him, laying on the operating table with a tube in his mouth. I walk to the side of the gurney and lean down and Lighty drags the back of my nails down his cheek. He's so beautiful, so ethereal and so otherworldly, I lean back and watch as he undergoes his proceger. 

Time skip, months later, no ones pov

It's been months since Clay had his surgery and he and his mother start noticing little things appearing in the house like Clay's favorite cigarettes, cute little trinkets of what he likes. Lilith and Clay start getting a bit freaked out and call up a psychic to come check out the house. The bubbly woman walks behind clay and his mother, looking around the penthouse taking in her surroundings. They stop in the living room and start talking about what has been happening.

“So my name is Erica as you know, so tell me what's been happening,” said Erica looking at the duo as they all sit down, clasping her hands.

“Lately we have been noticing things in our home, like trinkets of things clay like or hand made jewelry out of unknown materials” Lilith starts, handing Erica a black ring. The ring has a wood like design that holds in a beautiful gem that looks like it holds the galaxy in it. Erica looks over the ring before her eyes wide and almost drops the ring.

“Oh…..mr.clay have you met anyone that was dressed up nicely in black with gold accessories by chance?” erica says softly

“Hmm, oh! Yes i have i never got her name but she was beautiful” he says confused but happy as he rubs his hands together

“I don't know how you're alive but I think you've met lady death,” Erica says wearily, looking at the duo as their faces turn into shock.

“Death?!” they both say loudly, eyes wide and mouth open

“Yes death, it seems she likes clay and is trying to court him, thus the trinkets and handmade gifts” erica says nervously but happy before she continues

“She's never done this before, usually she would place a mark on you that would make you love her but it seems she's trying to get you to actually love her. You must be really special clay, she very very rarely takes interest in anyone” 

Clay and his mother look at each other before clay speaks

“How would one accept or reject the courtship?’ clay asks,brows furrowed

“If you wish to reject her advances just ignore the object and it should disappear and decline in appearance in your home and to accept you need to wear, use or hold or say how much you like it before she reveals herself after a while.” erica smiles as she gets up and bids them goodbye and leaves the penthouse

From that day forward clay starts wearing the jewelry and admiring the little handmade trinkets with a soft eyes and a small smile, finding it endearing

Time skip

It has been months since death started the courtship and with clay accepting her advances, clay types away drowzee at his home computer, eyes droopy and red. He soon feels hand rest on his shoulders and a whisper as he falls into a deep restful sleep

“Rest now, Vida”

Slowly clays eyes open and glances around, seeing that he is in bed and he sits up slightly panicked and confused.

“At ease vida, you alright” a sweet voice says, the same voice that clay was once comforted by at the park, snapping his head in the direction of the voice. Seeing the mysterious woman with a tray of Clay's favorite food.

“S-so your death?” he asks, swallowing the lump in his throat

“Mmm yes that's one of my names but call me (y/n), mi vida” she says setting the food on his lap

“Mi vida? What does that mean?”

“It means my life” she says sweetly

-

(smut time)

It's been almost 2 years since I've met death and decided to have a relationship with her, she's just wonderful. Though she is busy sometimes, what do you expect when you're engaged to death herself. She's perfect and so sweet, she is just what you could dream of.

I moan softly as I arch my back off the bed, the surprising warmth of her mouth warped around my cock as she sucks softly, her hands rest on my thighs softly as I flood her mouth with my cum. She slowly takes her mouth off my cock and swallows before she crawls up to straddle my hips, grabbing my cock and aligning with her slick cunt before she lowers herself, once all the way down she leans down and peppers kisses all along my face before trailing down and sucking hickeys lightly on my neck. While still leaned down she raises her hims and drops them softly before repeating the process, soft moans of pleasure leave our lips, i move my hands to rest on her plush soft hips as her hands rub and caress my skin as she places a soft trail of kisses along my scar from my surgery, she shows her love is so many ways. like the soft loving kisses, the loving caresses and in her gaze. She looks at me like I've hung the sun, moon and stars, like I'm her entire world. I feel her ethereal silk walls tighten around me telling me she's close, the pit in my belly tightens before snapping as I moan softly in her ear as she does the same. She goes lumps on top of me whispering praises and asking if I need anything. I knew at this moment I had made the right decision by accepting her courtship and I'd spend forever with me.

-

Years pass as Clay grows old and passes into the afterlife and turns into his wifes opposite but immortal companion and lover. Clay sits in a field of flowers dressed in an all white loose outfit with a small crown of black flowers given to him from his godly wife while death is wearing a loose black dress with a deep v neckline. Death sits between lifes legs both looking down with joyful smiles as they caress death's swollen belly that moves with life.

It's said that life and death send each other gifts in the forms of their creations. Life makes life that will die and death will collet and immortalize the gifts and send them to life's eternal paradise onec they are done being given their new bodies. You cant have life with out death or death without life.

memento mori memento vivere

“Remember that you will die so remember to live!”

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hey! tell me of what you think of my fic, likes and reblogs are apricated

[3lder1ch-l0verz]

Hi! Could I request a Steven (Steven Universe future) x reader, where he feels lonely and asks to come over to the reader’s place? Bonus points if they cuddle together and the reader comforts him 🥺

Of course honey! Thank you for the request, I love this prompt! I apologize if its late, work and school have been keeping me busy! Sorry if it's short!

A listening ear...

It had been a long week for Steven. He had been dealing with all sorts of things. Bluebird trying to hurt his dad, his gem powers acting up, Connie rejecting his proposal. He felt on edge, and he needed company outside of the crystal gems.

Who better to go to than you? His best friend, and brother figure! He remembers the first time you two met! He was 12, and you were 16. He was walking on the beach when he saw you, a tall teenager dressed in a grunge style. You were new to town, almost everyone recognized you as the new kid.

Steven was lured in, he was really curious about you! Who knew that one simple introduction would've lead to years of friendship and bonding.

He remembers all the times you stood up for him, protected him from corrupted gems, cared for him when he was sick. Yeah, he had the crystal gems to do that too, but it was different with you, you were pretty much his brother!

In fact, your the one he felt like he could unload his problems with. He remembers the first time he was overwhelmed with the things in his life. You comforted and listened to him for as long as he needed.

Safe to say he trusts you, and needed you now.

With all the recent things in his life, he needed your comfort. So, with shaky hands, he called you, nervous about your response.

When you pick up the phone, he smiles, still feeling a bit nervous.

"Hey (Name)...uh...could I come over? I just...i really need to talk to someone right now..."

He hears your chuckle on the other side of the phone, and that seems to ease his nerves.

"Of course you can Steven! You don't have to ask, I'm always there for you when you need me bubs."

He sighs with relief and informs you he'd be over in a few minutes. True to his words, he arrived at your house in a few minutes. The stressed 16 year old quickly hugs you, needing the comforting warmth of your embrace.

"Hey bubs...tough week huh? Wanna talk about it?"

You rub his back, hugging the youngster back. He briefly nods, and lets you sit him down on the couch. He watches as you put a blanket on him, make him his favorite snack, and provide him his favorite drink.

"Alright then, let's talk. What's wrong Steven?"

He takes a sip of his drink and rests his head on your shoulder.

"... Everything. Everything is wrong. I feel so overwhelmed, it's like I'm a kid again. I don't know if something is wrong with me, or, or if I'm doing something wrong. It just feels like I can't talk to anyone. I'm so used to letting others talk to me about their problems, that I've forgotten how to talk to them about my own problems."

You nod and frown, not because of his words, but out of empathy and pity.

"Nothing is wrong with you Steven, you're still a kid, and you've been through so much. It's okay to feel how you feel, and I understand how it feels like everyone doesn't understand what you're going through. And in a way... you're right. You're the first being to do the things you do, be a mix of a gem and a human. You've experienced things you shouldn't have had to experience at that age, and for that I'm sorry. But, despite all of that, you'll always have people who care about you. People who'll listen. I may not understand what you've been through, what you're experiencing, but I will always listen and try to help out."

Steven goes quiet, and he smiles softly, feeling a bit better. For the next few hours, you listened to him talk about his problems. You listened intently, and occasionally gave suggestions to help with the problems. Eventually, he fell asleep on you, and for the first time in a few weeks, he slept without having a dream....

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Hi Marina! Today is my birthday and you just gave me an amazing gift! Your post about how long Elvis lives in your stories popped up and this gem about Gigi and Daddy jumped out at me:

“There’s a sensitive young man named Austin who comes knocking on Graceland’s door to see the home of the man he is about to portray and ask his younger widow about him. Is it possible for two people to love a man together who’s been gone for little while now? They don’t know, but they manage it all the same, and somehow, it’s a little less lonely together…”

I am so disgustingly obsessed with this?! I can imagine that after all those years Gigi still loves her Daddy so much. She still talks about him like he’s there and she lives her life knowing that he’s watching over her and their babies. It provides enough peace but when Austin shows up, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. He’s so dedicated to learning about Elvis and preserving his legacy in the best way possible, and Gigi is so willing to help him do that in any way she can. She loved that man so much and to know that someone loves him too is almost too much for her to bare. They bond so closely over Elvis, and Austin grows so close to her and sees something in her. It not sexual at all but it’s a different type of love that is so profound.

(I am so sorry that I got carried away, but I love this so much!)

OH MY GOSH! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART! 🎂💋🌸

All that love has to go somewhere, ya know? And I’m just picturing her and Austin and Lisa able to gush about him together uninhibited because there’s so much trust and love and mutual understanding between them that nothings off the cards and all nuances are understood, no caveats needed, just loving the exceptional man that Elvis was! 🤧

…would you hate me if there was an eventual relationship between Austin and Gigi? Would you? I don’t see Gigi having single socially acceptable relationship in her life yet each one is from the heart in the purest sense and utterly devoted. Gigi is attracted to love and to quote Van Morrison:

“Love loves to love love”

Happy birthday again and thank you for being such a sweet friend to me, so glad Elvis brought you into my life! Xoxo

[imaginetheywerereal]

The Curse Breakers Heart Part 1

Part 2, Part 3

1421 wc

Reader (gn) x Gellert Grindelwald

His presence was intoxicating and familiar. Dangerous. Yet you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And he to you. It wasn't always this way. It started with a favour from a friend. The meeting was brief but it had been enough to captivate him.

Something about him kept dragging you back and as much as you resisted he pursued. 

You could feel his gaze from across the room. You sighed and emptied your glass of its contents, passing it off on one of the many hovering platters. Waiting for the Dark wizard to make his way into your company

You didn't usually attend these kinds of events. Too many stuffy purebloods. Being one yourself you attended many growing up. You had been glad to get away from it all with your work sending you all over the globe.

But your… dear friend — Albus to whom you owed a favour — had called upon it at the most inconvenient of times, as he always did. You should have been with your team in Egypt, the muggles didn’t know the kinds of dangers they were messing with when they uncovered the tomb of Tutankhamun four years ago. The curses and traps in Ancient tombs were always so fascinatingly complex, and the runes.

 Oh what I wouldn’t give to be there right now. You thought almost wistfully, feeling rather morose over this whole affair. Curse you Dumbledore! And your sweet manipulations! How does this always happen to me?

As your frustration at your friend rose, so too did the temperature of the ball room. Something many had taken note of, aside from yourself, shifting away from your person and parting like the red sea as he approached you. Not that you had noticed too involved in your own thoughts trying to escape so time would pass quicker.

You froze when you felt a hand brush your shoulder, the heat immediately fleeing from the room and rising on your face in your embarrassment when you realised you had been doing it again. Turning the room into an open fire working yourself up. Mentally shaking it off you trail your eyes from the cool fingertips resting on your shoulder up their arm, head tilted to meet the mismatched eyes of the man who’d thought to disturb you from your thoughts.

His hand still lay on your shoulder, he had furrowed his brow in what you read as concern but suspected to be false, a pretence to endear you to him, however, his reputation preceded him. You squinted at him.

Taking the hint eventually he removed his hand from you.

“Apologies. You seemed distressed. Gellert Grindelwald pleasure to make your acquaintance…”

“Potter. Head Curse Breaker with Gringotts London Branch. Much obliged.” You provided amicably, shaking the offered hand. As you shook his hand, you couldn’t help but notice the calculating glint in Grindelwald’s eyes. He was sizing you up, just as you were him. A dangerous game of chess had begun, and neither of you intended to lose. 

Such places were hardly appropriate for conflict. Besides he’d be a fool to try and so would you, with the present company. You could feel his followers hovering around the pair of you. You didn’t get to where you were by being stupid. “You surprise me, Mr. Grindelwald.”

“How so?” he found himself asking, intrigued by you and your fiery nature. And Potter. A name he knows well. How could he not? He had dedicated most of his youth to the Deathly Hallows. Since your arrival in a swirling burst of flames, you had become more interesting with every passing second, your fingers brushing against a familiar pendant inlaid with an unknown black stone that seemed to absorb the light unlike any gem he’d known before.

 He watched you start idle chatter with other prestigious families before secluding yourself to a corner where you had faded into the background; had he not been completely focused on you he would have been caught off guard by the sudden raising of the heat in the room. Witnessing you war with yourself as it started. Tactfully he chose that moment to introduce himself, his movements had these peons parting in fear and awe. Turning away from them with a frigid glare, the music started up again, having paused for a beat. And the atmosphere settled back around them.

The grand ballroom was filled with the elite of the wizarding world, their laughter and chatter a mere backdrop to the silent battle of wills between you and Grindelwald. The chandeliers cast a warm glow, but the air between you was charged with an electric tension.

“And please call me Gellert.” He spoke softly offering you a charmingly quiet smile. Dropping it when you frowned at the action. 

“You’re very different than I'd imagined.” You spoke with a sort of deliberate confusion, as if his very existence puzzled you, before your lips twisted up with mischief in mind. “Charming and dishonest, I expected, most manipulators are. But weird and clingy? That’s a surprise.”

You had taken him aback with the comment and it showed in the rapid blinking of his eyes and straightening of his posture. He hadn't even been consciously aware that he had been leaning so far into your space, that you could probably feel his breath on your head. He felt himself smiling despite the rudeness of the statement, he almost laughed, he was adequately entertained, were he a certain ginger with a penchant for meddling, Gellert could probably even say his eyes twinkled in that infuriating way His normally did. 

Not an ounce of fear was detected in your eyes.

“Oh weird am I, you can tell that in the mere moments we’ve known eachother can you? What then, does that make you and how might one qualify as such?” You were a breath of fresh air Gellert found; rubbing elbows with these particular types in such settings did become quite a chore at some point, with all of the quivering and greasing they did to get in his good graces or out of them. But he suffered their company to further his Ideals, for the greater good of wizard kind he must suffer fools in droves but sparsely to leave them wanting. Such was the price of power. You, cliche as it might sound, were different. One might even say weird, yourself. Even now your words made him smile in quiet amusement. 

“I do admit, however, I can get rather attached if the mood strikes. What was it you said you did, my dear?” As Gellert leaned in, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that drew him in. Was it your fearlessness? Your unpredictability? He found himself wanting to know more, despite the danger.

Your frown deepened as he smiled, a silent challenge in your eyes. Gellert straightened, his posture becoming more rigid, but his eyes never left yours. He was intrigued, and it showed.

“Ah forgetful too, that’ll go on the list.” You say not expecting to enjoy his company as much as you were. “I’m a Curse Breaker. Head of the Gringotts Branch in London.” Not minding repeating yourself in the least, charmed by his attention. Most would have been offended by your abrasive comment. He came off as more at ease, like his many masks were removed for however long this moment lasted. Is it naive of me to want it to last forever?

“No.” Gellert said without thinking. Foolishly. At the look on your once near jubilant face he closed his eyes in an incredibly brief and rare moment of regret, opening them in preparation for your dismissal or departure. 

Instead he was greeted to you still infront of him, arms folded, frowning at him unimpressed though your lip twitched trying to maintain the stern expression. Losing the fight you add: “He’s also rude. Good to know. Just so you don't think too little of me, Mr Grindelwald, I’m off my game tonight, I'm not usually so easy to read I must have been broadcasting it. Or you are truly as exceptional as they say you are.” 

He released the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding when you brushed off his blatant disregard for your privacy by skimming over your surface thoughts. “I– regardless… I apologise once again my dear. That was, as you say, rude of me. I found that I couldn’t help myself. You are pleasant company.”

The intense eye contact the pair of you held in that brief moment of weakness is likely what allowed such a slip up. It wasn’t entirely his fault.

“Like I said Mr Grindelwald, it's not your fault. I was pulled from my work to attend this function, I’m reasonably off kilter.” His apology did put a dampener on your mood when you realised the ease in which he manipulates people in his favour. Suddenly you didn’t feel as cheerful anymore avoiding his gaze entirely and peering out at the sea of bodies that started to sway to the music, what am I doing? I’m smarter than this. Why did I even agree to come here? Oh, right. Dumbledore.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Grindelwald, I have someone I’m supposed to meet. Charming to meet you,” you added, your tone polite but distant. As you turned away, you thought briefly, may we never cross paths again.

 Your shoulders slumped slightly as you turned away, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. Gellert’s eyes followed you, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

If you copy this bullshit i'll know. im a lurker.

Next>>

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

since I can't give you the world

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1,279 | Read on AO3

After a job that goes surprisingly smoothly, Heist!Mark has a gift for his partner in crime.

Despite operating in part within a larger network of criminals, it was rare for you and your heist partner to take on jobs from others, ultimately preferring to work independently. You knew you could trust one another, and freelance work meant the two of you could determine the stakes and carefully plot every point of your plan with space for improvisation if necessary, all without being accountable to anyone. It just suited you better.

On occasion, though, you would take up jobs from higher criminal organisations that could provide you with certain tech or aid in covering your tracks, or from rich clients looking for individuals to do their dirty work.

This heist had been one of those such occasions.

A wealthy tycoon had offered a generous deposit in exchange for the two of you infiltrating the penthouse belonging to the family of a rival business. Your client claimed that the owner of the company had taken some precious jewels from him and his own family's possession in their youth, and it remained mysteriously lost for years until they later had them fashioned into a jewellery set and supposedly tried to pass them off as a family heirloom. He wanted you to steal it back, saying you could take whatever else you wanted to throw any suspicion away from himself.

There was no way you could confirm this story, and usually you wouldn't choose to involve yourselves in something so personal and petty on someone else's behalf, but in addition to the incredible sum of money the client was offering just for accepting the job, this would be a fairly simple heist, with him making all the arrangements for you to get in posed as guests to a soirée held at the target location. The only catch was that you had to figure out your own escape, but with your experience it wasn't much of an issue.

The client had provided you with instructions on where to look for the items (he had refused to disclose the source of this intel, which was probably for the best).

You and Mark were able to get into the lavish event without any problems and even had fun enjoying the party before you made your move, easily slipping away from the hubbub; you made your way to distract the guard on standby so Mark could get past unnoticed.

‘Got it!’ Mark had exclaimed in a proud half-whisper, his voice coming through the earpiece communication device tucked away out of sight behind your hair. ‘And I took some other valuables n’ stuff so it looks like a more general robbery, rather than us being after something specific.’

You kept up your conversational diversion for a couple more minutes, giving Mark the chance to sneak out of the room undetected, before thanking the guard for escorting you thus far and heading on your way.

‘Ah! I think I know where to go from here, thank you ever so much for your help,’ you said in an overly grateful tone that felt far too sweet (but worked wonders). You heard Mark scoff at the other end of the line.

As the two of you slipped out and into the night, the triumph and excitement in the air between you was palpable.

‘Oooh, nice haul!’ you said gleefully, peeking into the bag of loot while Mark drove you both back to base. Meanwhile, the jewellery set for the client sat safely in its own case.

All-in-all, it had turned out to be one of your most successful heists.

Later, you have everything laid out to total up your prizes, still somewhat giddy, like kids counting up arcade tickets to see what they can win.

‘Oh! I almost forgot, I've got something for you,’ Mark says, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, which lies over the chair behind him.

Your head perks up with curiosity.

He holds out his hand to you, and in it is an ornate, blue pendant in a teardrop shape, hanging from a delicate gold chain. You can't say for sure what kind of gem or crystal it is, but the cut of the azure stone catches the light in such a way that you can't quite keep your eyes off it. The bail attaching the pendant has a spiralling design embedded in the metal. Overall, it's a beautiful piece.

‘Now, I know it wasn't what we were after but while I was searching the room, I saw it and I can't put my finger on why, but it made me think of you. And it was just sitting around collecting dust, y'know? I just figured, might as well give this to someone who'll actually appreciate it.’

You take the necklace gently from his hands, examining the craftsmanship between your fingers. And you think you might see why it reminded him of you. Well, not really, more like you feel it — a vague sense of familiarity about the design that you can't place, like something from a dream or long-forgotten memory.

‘Yeah,’ he says with a grin. ‘Oh— of course, if you'd rather pool it in with the rest of the loot and get your money's worth instead, that's totally fine. I won't mind, I just thought you deserve to have something for yourself.’

‘Mark… Did you steal this, for me?’

He says it casually, but the whole notion leaves you feeling incredibly touched.

‘Mark. If you got this especially for me I'm not gonna sell it. This is really thoughtful, I love it.’

‘Aw, no problem, buddy. It's nothing.’

‘No, it's not nothing. Thank you. Really.’

‘Well… I'm glad you like it.’ He smiles and you hold each other's gaze for a moment. ‘Oh — here, let me- ’

He takes the necklace from you and after a second you realise he intends to help you put it on.

He leans closer, unclasping the chain carefully.

‘So, what's the occasion?’ you ask, conscious of how his hands brush against your skin as he moves them to close the clasp behind your neck.

‘Do I need a reason to give my friend a gift?’

‘... I guess not.’

He lingers in your space a bit longer than necessary, hands just barely resting at the curve where your neck meets your shoulders.

And maybe it's the tenderness and unspoken intimacy of this physical act, or that you're used to taking and not so much receiving, or the fact that he thought to keep this for you at all, but for whatever reason, your heart feels incredibly full.

‘It suits you.’

After that day, you wear your new accessory all the time when you're home.

You refuse to wear it out, even if you're simply going to meet with friends or the two of you are on a standard grocery run, out of fear that it'll get lost or damaged or, ironically, stolen.

Regardless, Mark can tell how much it means to you by the way he'll notice it hanging over your collar bones when you groggily traipse over to the kitchen for breakfast every morning, or how it is still around your neck when you fall asleep slumped against him in your living room by the end of the day. And whenever anyone comes over to visit, you wear it proudly, and he feels himself swell with happiness and pride in turn when your friends compliment it and you mention how ‘Mark gave it to me’.

You truly do love your gift, but what you cherish far more is the care behind the gesture, and the fact that he looks pleased whenever you wear it.

You'll have to find some way to return the favour.

[medsocionwheels]

Wheelchair Access Does Not Mean Shit Without COVID Precautions

I just spent the last 2 hours trying to compose the most polite email possible explaining to my fellow graduate students that requesting everyone suggest wheelchair-accessible locations to hold our IN-PERSON graduate recruitment event next month is nice, but a futile effort if disability access is the goal.

I have spent the last 7 years begging for this email. Begging to not have to fucking ask for a change of venue because I cannot get in the door. I am STILL our department's ONLY wheelchair user. I am one of 2 people in our department who still takes COVID-19 somewhat seriously--the other person is a somewhat, I'm totally serious. So, I'm one of 2 people in our department who still wore a mask on campus last semester after the first month of class. I am the ONLY one to refuse to be in our building unmasked. Just like the wheelchair access, I have repeatedly stressed the need for COVID-19 mitigations. Nobody wants to wear masks, and nobody wants to offer a virtual option, and nobody wants to admit these things to me so they end up ignoring me every time I bring it up. Yet ALMOST EVERYONE wants to comment on my absence from departmental life for the last three years.

I shouldn't be this frustrated. If you saw my earlier blog post today, though, you already know that it was on this issue. The blog post was planned. Discovering the gem of an email from one of our first-year graduate students was not.

I couldn't leave it. I'm the only wheelchair user in our department, and I'm the only one with chronic illness who is openly concerned about COVID. I have no idea about the recruits.

I wanted to be abrasive. I wanted to bring up how infuriating it is that they have the audacity to bring up wheelchair access for the first fucking time this year when our weekly events are still in one of the least accessible rooms on campus. I wanted to tell them how I have been sitting with my fury, watching their group-me posts raving over one COVID superspreader event after another, being nice enough not to lash out and tell them how fucked up that behavior was.

Instead, I thanked them for acknowledging the need for wheelchair access and proceeded to "provide sociological insight" on why COVID-19 precautions are necessary for disability access. Then I contextualized things in terms of my class privilege compared to other disabled people and other graduate students. And I offered to help them make the events COVID-safe.

My response to the situation is a perfect example of the exhausting dynamic I was writing about earlier. We are still fighting for disability access that we started pre-COVID, and we can't even celebrate those wins because they are paired with the knowledge that events remain more inaccessible to disabled people than they were prior to the pandemic. It means sitting at the bottom of the stairs with our wheels while the non-disableds rave about "progress" and other bullshit like that.

Non-disabled progress means putting in a ramp, but missing the part where that ramp is attached to a building on top of a mountain, and the only way up the mountain is a large staircase. Your ramp does not mean much if we cannot get to the flat ground because it is elevated and only accessible by stairs.

Your ramp does not mean shit if you plan to give us COVID.

Holy fuck this is so exhausting.

[feelinsophantastic]

Gravity Circuit - Move at Your Own (Fast) Pace

(hello! i've finally made another review (my first since.... july? august? whenever i finished kunitsu-gami). i had a dmc1 piece in the works, but burnt out like.... immediately, and didn't play many games since then! that being said, i really liked this one, so i hope that point gets across well enough here. my writing's been skewing sort of academic, and i'm not totally sure if i love it, but i'm still experimenting and am ultimately still happy with this. enjoy!)

Introduction

I have not played a game in quite some time. I’ve dabbled in some multiplayer titles, but for the most part, I’ve been busy and sad. The idea of playing a game sounded like almost too much for me to handle, so I simply didn’t. That is, until I decided to pick up the controller one day and play… Fez. But that did not go well! I am unintelligent. So I looked through my Steam library, noticed a little gem I’d been very excited to try, and got straight to downloading. That gem? Well, you read the title. It’s Gravity Circuit, a 2D action platformer with a focus on movement that hooked (heh) me in an instant. I cannot overstate how effectively this speedy game snapped me out of my doldrums and helped me fall in love with a medium all over again.

To put it bluntly, Gravity Circuit just feels right. In my hands and in my heart. Every piece is masterfully and lovingly crafted, every inch thoughtfully designed to be both friendly and challenging, a welcoming introduction into the world of action platformers for some, and a nail-biting test of skill for others. Its systems are not complex, but they’re deep, infinitely satisfying to master, and accompanied by some excellent set dressing that makes for a totally complete package with hours of excitement beneath its brief surface. The game is immensely freeing, allowing for a total exploration and personalization of its systems, and by the end, I was given an experience I can call entirely my own. There is not a thing that Gravity Circuit shoots for that it does not hit, and any annoyances I may have found within it are just that: annoyances. Minor friction, a split-second of unhappiness instantly washed away by love. Though I certainly found myself frustrated playing it at times, it was in no way the fault of the game. It understands its audience, and makes every accommodation necessary to provide the smoothest, most action-packed platforming experience I’ve had in a great while. I can’t recommend Gravity Circuit enough, and it’s one of my favourite games that I’ve played this year.

Style

From the outset, it is abundantly clear what Gravity Circuit is going for. It’s standing on the shoulders of giants such as Mega Man X and Mega Man Zero, and it wears its inspiration like a badge of honour. However, its reverence never becomes egregious, and nothing the game does feels derivative. Every piece it’s taken from other games, it’s either matched or improved, and it has a level of care for its originality that many spiritual successors fail to meet. Little feels out of place in the modernized format, and it’s added just enough flavour to stick out among the many action platformers that can be found on today’s storefronts. 

What’s most striking right off the bat is the immensely detailed spritework, and the overall aesthetics. Gravity Circuit is absolutely gorgeous, and each sprite is full of a life one would not expect of the cast’s quite literally robotic nature. The game uses a limited colour palette to give each of its characters a distinct personality, warm oranges and sinister purples composing only tiny portions of the game’s diverse roster of opponents. Each level is bursting with beautiful backgrounds, charming enemies, and cute civilians to rescue, and I can vividly recreate several of the game’s screens in my mind. Gravity Circuit is bursting with visual easter eggs, adorable companions, and menacing enemies, using a visual language all its own to distinguish itself from many other modern pixelated games. And not only are the game’s sprites beautiful in their own right, but when combined with its fluid, forceful, and snappy animation, the visuals do a great service to the incredible gamefeel, providing a sense of weightlessness and speed that is unmatched in any game that comes to mind. All of this, tied together with futuristic design sensibilities, coalesces into a game that is eye candy at any point, instantly recognizable and infinitely laudable for its visual glamour.

What’s just as strong, though, is the soundtrack. Each track fits the target vibes of the level it’s in exceptionally, and all of them were just as catchy on the hundredth run as they were on the first. A consistently great soundscape across the board is just one of many things contributing to Gravity Circuit’s strong aesthetics, but I would argue it’s among the most important. Hits are crunchy, and kills even moreso. Telltale sounds of super move activations and enemy attacks reverberate around the ears, making combat just as satisfying to listen to as it is to perform. The game knows how to tickle the player’s eardrums, and whether it be with its consistently quality music or its punchy sound design, it all makes for a wildly memorable experience for the ears. 

Gravity Circuit is, without a doubt, charming. It’s made with an overwhelming reverence for the classics it was born to mirror, and elevates their ideas to new extremes without ever disrespecting the source. Whether it be Mega Man or more modern influences, the game cares greatly about its roots, but is never too afraid to stray from them in the pursuit of anything greater. It adds a great deal of its own spice to the equation, sticking out amongst the crowd with grand, distinct artwork and an infectious soundtrack. Gravity Circuit’s style is cohesive, thoughtful, and lends the game a credibility utterly deserved by the excellent concept and execution.

Movement

When games seek to evoke such vivid memories of classic titles past, they often run the risk of letting their style cannibalize their substance, ultimately leaving behind a portrait of what could be rather than iterating on the concepts that make them special. That being said, Gravity Circuit makes no such mistake, and embraces its strong focus where others may complacently stroll. The game is unabashedly fast, and emphasizes the type of mastery one might expect from older Sonic the Hedgehog titles or the like, and such a clear vision of a fast-paced but precise platformer that doesn’t compromise on its other elements such as combat is admirable. Domesticated Ant Games, the developers of Gravity Circuit, understood their game’s strength in traversal, and fully leaned into it throughout development, leading to a remarkably fun, responsive, and tense gameplay experience.

What’s immediately noticeable in Gravity Circuit is how fluid it feels to play, and the speed with which you can move. The protagonist, Kai, is never out of the player’s control, and once you’ve adjusted your bindings with the game’s exceptionally robust options menu, you’re free to explore the game’s movement to your heart’s content. Weaving through tight levels at breakneck speed, using different super moves for traversal, learning the best spots to defeat enemies versus simply passing by them, each of these are core parts of Gravity Circuit’s movement that enable a steady skill growth and feeling of mastery as your playtime increases. Whereas many games focused on speed and the evolution of player skill have a weak initial playthrough that makes way for a more enjoyable and skillful one down the line, though, this one makes movement satisfying immediately. Kai runs with a great swiftness, enhanced by trailing afterimages, and this swiftness is paired with a delicacy of control that means despite the great speeds you can reach, you’re never at a loss for precision. You can barrel through obstacles, go around them, or combine the two, and decisions like these never come at the cost of your movement’s fluidity. Combat and traversal weave in and out of the core experience at a barely perceptible rate, making it incredibly easy to enter a flow state. Quite simply, it feels natural, and mastering the mechanics by which you move becomes just as important as finishing a level, or defeating a boss. Getting lost in Gravity Circuit’s gameplay loop is commonplace, a testament to how well it fits into the hands of its players.

But beyond the mere acts of running, jumping, sliding, and divekicking, all of which Gravity Circuit certainly succeeds at, the game has an ace up its sleeve when it comes to traversal: the hookshot. This is the core innovation on offer from the action platformer, and it’s such a success in concept and execution that I almost want a sequel made for the sole purpose of expanding upon its possibilities. To elaborate, Kai comes equipped with a ranged hookshot, one with both combat and movement applications. It’s one of his few ranged attacks, but what are arguably more important than that are its implications for traversal. You can grapple and swing from ceilings, fling yourself towards walls, and with some upgrades, even grapple onto enemies and use them as a launchpad. Which ceilings are grabbable is admittedly not well-notated, but I found throughout my playthrough that whenever I needed the hookshot to come through, it did. Mastering the tool is key to mastering Gravity Circuit in its entirety, and it can tie together incredibly long, freeform, and rewarding sequences that would leave anyone feeling powerful. What’s so impressive about the hookshot, though, is how its usage evolves alongside the player’s skill, starting out useful and remaining as such for the duration of a playthrough. At the first layer, it can be used to grapple onto moving platforms and cross gaps, simple but absolutely effective use cases. Later, its swinging properties become more potent, and a great deal of momentum can be built up and transferred. Even later, the hookshot can be used to grapple onto the ground and alter momentum, slingshot using far walls, or even reset off of midair enemies to continue an aerial sequence. There are boundless opportunities to use the hookshot to augment your movement, and at every level of play, it’s a design success.

Gravity Circuit is a fluid and enjoyable experience at every level. It feels perfect in the hands, and finding your way through the stages as fast as possible is a major part of its appeal. Of course, this never takes away from initial playthroughs and reactions, but there is so much beneath the surface that repeat playthroughs are naturally appealing. Whether it be racing for better times, mastering a single screen, or speedrunning the game in its entirety, the game’s speed and maneuverability makes any number of challenges satisfying to see through, and I enjoyed peeling back its layers as my time with and love for the game grew.

Combat

Arguably just as crucial to its rock-solid identity as its movement, Gravity Circuit’s combat was satisfying for me from the very start. It’s not only deep, but hard-hitting and rewarding, providing a focus on melee combat that the movement greatly facilitates. I was just as interested in theorycrafting unique ways to dismember my foes as I was in finding ways to move past them, and this versatility in approach shines throughout the whole experience. Gravity Circuit is a sandbox in which the player can find any number of ways through its stages, and the excellent combat is a major piece in this.

Firstly, at a base level, combat feels incredibly solid. While you initially have only a few attack options, it’s never too limited, providing the player exactly what they need to push through any given stage, and only growing more rewarding as time goes on. The player’s kit consists of three directional attacks on the ground as well as three in the air, as well as four directional super moves and his hookshot (both of which I will touch upon shortly), and this simple moveset is enough to keep the player satiated for a while. Combat is brief, unobtrusive, and punchy. However, as time passes, your arsenal grows, and with it the potential for unique combos and synergies. You can extend your range, your speed, or even turn running and sliding into attacks themselves, and each of these fundamentally change the way you interact with enemies. Stringing together short melee combos with the game’s lenient attack cancelling is satisfying, and weaving in and out of effective ranges is quite natural given your speed. Gravity Circuit’s combat is weighty enough to feel good at the most basic level, the skill expression and potential for fun only increasing alongside playtime.

As I mentioned, Kai comes equipped with his hookshot, and this turns his base kit from functional to exceptional. It does not put up notably high damage per second given its slow rate of fire, but it makes up for that in two ways. The first of these ways is fairly shallow, but nonetheless important: range. The hookshot is the only meterless option the player has with any semblance of disjointed range, and as such, it has an important role to fill. Given Gravity Circuit’s intense movement, you’ll often find yourself simply meeting your target head-on, but for the situations where that won’t do, a slow but safe takedown with the hookshot is always there for you. The second, and much more interesting, way that the hookshot justifies its combat ability is in its ability to pick up enemies. The enemies in Gravity Circuit must take a certain amount of damage to be stunned, and after that threshold has been reached, they can be hit with the hookshot to be grabbed by Kai. This allows him to throw them in any direction, instantly breaking destructible walls, opening loot chests, and most importantly stunning other enemies. Of course, this leads to incredible chain reactions of destruction, and seeing as you make few sacrifices in speed while holding a foe, strategizing when to grab an enemy and where to throw them to make your runs even faster becomes a core part of the experience. The hookshot solidifies itself in both movement and combat as a cornerstone of Gravity Circuit’s breakneck pace and tight design, allowing for infinite creativity within such a superficially simple tool. 

But despite how much I loved using the hookshot, it wasn’t my favourite combat mechanic. That’s no fault of its own, but the competition is stiff, and my favourite tool to utilize throughout the game’s battles were Burst Techniques, the super moves I alluded to earlier. All eight of the game’s main bosses grant the player new Burst Techniques alongside the four you begin the game with, and each of these have vastly different use cases that encourage specialization and loadout building. These attacks come at an energy cost, though, and their great power is balanced out by their relative scarcity (unless the player is willing to sacrifice upgrade slots for more energy gain). The moves are certainly strong, but never too overcentralizing throughout a casual playthrough. Burst Techniques can range from passive timed stat boosts to screen-wide beams, from invincible dashes to command grabs, and anything in between, and your selection of attacks has a drastic impact upon not only how you approach combat, but how you approach Gravity Circuit’s stages as a whole. A wide variety of the game’s options can be used for movement, and it goes to show how intertwined combat and traversalare. That’s not to say that there aren’t any purely offensive Burst Techniques, though, and I believe this is where the combat can be broken wide open. Burst Techniques can cancel into one another, leading to devastating combos that, personally speaking, motivated my attack selection quite heavily. Any number of combos can be formed, and the system is incredibly malleable to the player’s wishes. Burst Techniques expand the playing field of combat greatly, and the variation within the mechanic means that battles in Gravity Circuit can become whatever you wish them to be.

Gravity Circuit’s combat, while deep, is never obtrusive, and it plays to the game’s strengths. It’s quick but calculated, simple to grasp but fun to master, and incredibly expressive. Whether it be through the strings you concoct, the long sequences of grabbing and throwing you can chain together, or the devastating super combos you can rattle the game’s bosses with, Gravity Circuit lives up to the fantasy of being a superpowered robot willing and able to mow down anything in his path, but it does so with a precision and care that allows for a great sense of progression and mastery. The game provides a sandbox of combat options that allow you to make each experience entirely unique, and the option to edit your loadout in the middle of a level gives you the freedom to adapt to each challenge you’re faced with in any way you desire. Gravity Circuit’s combat is forceful, smooth, and ultimately as present as you want it to be, with tens of options to surpass it, bypass it, or master it all at your fingertips.

Replayability

I cited Sonic the Hedgehog as a game in Gravity Circuit’s wheelhouse, one dedicated to the player’s mastery of the systems, but I always bore a grudge against the blue hedgehog’s adventures that I have experience with (though that isn’t many!). The games simply did not do enough on my first go-around to motivate repeat playthroughs, and this is a trap I find many similar games falling into. Gravity Circuit, however, has no such issue, and when my first playthrough was finished, I felt as though I was just getting started. The game not only has a great deal of replay value, but it’s also excellent at motivating the player to experience that value, and that’s just as key as the replayable content in my eyes.

One sentence that ran through my head constantly while playing Gravity Circuit was, “I can’t wait to be better at this.” I loved the mechanics almost immediately, and I couldn’t wait to dive deeper and improve. And this desire, this need for growth, never went away. The game does a great job at intrinsically motivating the player, providing a timer to improve at the end of each level and other small objectives such as killing a certain amount of enemies, or sustaining a small amount of damage. There are no prizes for such a high degree of completion, but the satisfaction I received upon perfecting a level and mastering its layout are all the rewards I needed. Especially when, upon completion, options like new enemy patterns and level arrangements are added to the mix, it becomes clear that Gravity Circuit is a game made to be played over, and over, and over again, each attempt stronger than the last. I can always boot it up, speed through a level, and feel happy with myself at the end.

That’s not to say that all the motivation is intrinsic, though. The game has plenty of goodies tucked away within its stages to keep you coming back for more, with many of them altering the way you interact with the game entirely. As I’ve mentioned plenty of times throughout the review, you can spec out your Kai into whoever you wish him to be, whether that’s an energy battery, a ranged demon, a defensive beast, or a speedy linebacker, but these upgrades are generally found or unlocked by hunting within the game’s levels for nooks and crannies that catch your eye. They can be as simple as a cracked wall or gap in the ceiling, but many of them bear little platforming challenges before you can claim your prize. These prizes, though, are well worth the effort, and while some of the smaller upgrades (known as Chips) are unlocked by saving civilians and provide general passive buffs to energy gain or attack speed, there are plenty of other upgrades to be found within Gravity Circuit’s corridors. A smattering of health and energy capacity upgrades are available, and I found these absolutely crucial, especially since I was spending Burst Techniques like a fiend throughout my playthrough. But the secrets I found most rewarding were Palette Chips, the most difficult tidbits to find with the most earth-shattering gameplay implications. Each of these chips, based on the game’s main bosses, grant you unique passive techniques, such as a hovering beam attack, a ground pound, or an air slide. These drastically altered the ways I played, and I often centered the entirety of my loadouts around my Palette Chip. They even grant a small bonus perk of providing alternate colours! Palette chips are a capstone to the game’s vast expanse of customization options, and emphasize how wholly unique you can make your playthrough in the face of thousands of others. Needless to say, Gravity Circuit has plenty to look out for throughout its levels, and provides many opportunities for the player to return to its stages with freshly powered-up eyes.

Through its many challenges, options, and upgrades, Gravity Circuit never failed to keep me coming back to master its many intricacies. It’s a game you can find hours of fun within, whether through its main campaign, its boss rushes, or merely the power fantasy of stomping an easy New Game + run. Each of these experiences, as fun as they are, may not last quite as long without such a toybox of new options and techniques to play with, but the game has that in its favour as well. I see myself returning to it long after today, if only for a quick burst of breakneck fun to clear my head. While the campaign is short, Gravity Circuit lasts far longer than what’s listed on the package, and I can’t recommend it enough to someone looking to sink their teeth into a fun, everlasting experience.

Conclusion

Needless to say, I really loved Gravity Circuit. It is a clearly focused, intelligently designed, and beautiful game, with plenty of nuance and challenge to sink my teeth into. I was expecting a fun time, but I was not expecting such a wake-up call that got me excited about the medium of games all over again. And despite the great detail I attempted to go into, I was still forced to omit things for time. The game has very tight level design, just long enough to be intricate but just short enough to make going back to them enjoyable. The bosses are well thought out, and hit the balance between difficulty and clarity perfectly. The difficulty is masterfully tuned to provide a strong challenge while still making the player’s growth in power and skill evident. The game nails almost everything it shoots for, and I couldn’t be happier that I picked it out of my hat to play.

In all, I don’t really have a negative word to say about Gravity Circuit. It understands perfectly what it wants to be, and delivers on that dream with nary a bump in the road. The art is incredible, the gameplay is smooth, malleable, and satisfying, and there’s no shortage of fun to be had with its tight movement, snappy combat, customizable protagonist, and towering skill ceiling. Gravity Circuit is both faithful and modern, bringing the likes of games like Mega Man X right up to speed with modern sensibilities and adding just enough of its own spice to stand out amongst its contemporaries. 

[existentialmagazine]

Review: The cosy pixellated shop management game ‘Tiny Witch’ feels like a solo-campaign of ‘Overcooked’ with a mystical twist

With just a four-person Brazilian studio team focused on premium pixel art style games, the developers and publishers Creative Hand have previously worked on smaller indie gems like Make The Burger and There Will Be No Turkey This Christmas that perhaps have gone under your radar. Now sharing their newest game Tiny Witch, the group look to appeal to cosy gamers everywhere - as long as you’re also up for a challenge.

As cute as its title and appearance may lead you to believe, the management game Tiny Witch is actually quite chaotic beneath its surface. With your character Sophie dreaming of running her own minion store for the dungeon masters that pass her by, she’s swiftly left cursed by a mysterious cat offering her dreams on a platter but with a cost - never being able to leave the store until she reaches high magnitudes of success.

Though perhaps unideal, this is still what Sophie had always been yearning for, and that much is clear in her dedication to make it work. With passing day and night cycles, it’s your job to take care of the customers that visit by creating and combining differing resources before they lose their patience and leave. From activating spells, unlocking new recipes and preparing the best minions in time, there’s a lot to juggle and a lot to unlock the longer you progress.

Later down the line, your minion-crafting store can be relocated to a forest, a cave and a desert, along with a magnitude of new things like resources and a pounder, as well as different stages such as a wrapping stage where you can buy decorations, pets, and add new work tables. With a lot of incentive to get it all done and meet your goals, Tiny Witch makes sure to give you your moneys worth in terms of content down the line.

Much of the whimsicality and appeal of Tiny Witch comes from its art style though, encompassing the warm pixelated visuals that gamers have grown to highly adore over the past few years, specifically after the rise of Stardew Valley. Making the game appear visually cosy with gorgeously vibrant shop decor and unique, cute character designs, you’ll perhaps almost be lulled into a false sense of security that this game is somewhat calm. Mixing together a chaotic amount of gameplay with textures that fill you with ease, Tiny Witch does a great job at bringing together two styles that couldn’t seem farther apart.

While there is so much to love about Tiny Witch, it does fall short in a few ways. For one, the difficulty at times feels almost unfairly unbearable, giving you too many customers that you cannot possibly serve with the limited resources available to you. This difficult only continues to ramp up too, offering no slider to make it easier or ways to aid you in your continued failures.

Overall though, Tiny Witch has a lot to love in a small package. From beautiful visuals to addictive gameplay, you’ll find yourself pouring a lot of hours into this title without even noticing it pass. While it has its flaws, we can only hope with continued love and support the developers will take on board feedback and continue to grow the game to incredible heights.

Tiny Witch is available to play on Microsoft Windows, purchasable here. Existential was kindly provided with a Steam code for this review.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Screenshotted on PC.

[full-of-mercy]

Livio could not bring himself to return to the orphanage after he had his hand in its near destruction, even if he found a reason to persevere, a reason to keep fighting, in one of its former residents. In her children.

Jasmine. She may not have recognized him, but he remembered her. All of the complications of their relationship, his flight from Hopeland, fell away when he shielded her and her children from Elendira's nails. He still wears the jacket and hat they gifted him.

Markers. Talismans. The first steps in repurposing himself as more than just a collection of traumas and horrors aimed at the Eye's enemies. And now he is here, grounded, breathing slow and steady, just like Melanie taught him all those years ago. Inhale, count, exhale, he contains his urge to bundle her up into a bear hug. That can wait. He holds his peace and watches.

Watches Nicholas swallow his nerves and meet her gaze. He learned it from someone, looking beyond the surface; he is not immune to perception even if he might not want to be perceived. He is as he is, prepared for censure, prepared to see her balk.

She doesn't. Not even when he chuffs a chuckle, showing teeth that befit his surname (clean, at least). Not even when he demurs, "Broken clock's right twice a day, ma'am."

No retreat, not even when she ruffles his hair with matronly reproach.

All of them carry heavy burdens. More than she knows, perhaps more than she can surmise, they are stained with blood and the choices others wrenched from them. Most important of all: they are alive. They have the agency to walk through the world, to change it, to grow into themselves. She is grateful to see it, however it came to pass. However they survived, they returned.

At last, Ms. Melanie does not spare Vash from the ritual of inspection. It is an act of reverence and respect as much as it is an effort to acquaint through Looking, through Seeing, and the mirror works both ways—after all, while all three men on the baggy sectional tower over her standing, they are at eye level while seated.

Every child who crosses her threshold, every adult helper who decides to stay on, receives the same provided that they do not recoil from it. Some who have graced these halls with their light were skittish, fearful. They took time to warm up, time to understand that not every extended hand was poised for a strike. Some learned more readily than others. Some held on to the lessons of trust, some had to relearn it.

Melanie suspects that each of them suffered broken trust countless times.

The years have taken their toll, rounding and softening her figure and her face, creased as it is with laugh lines and crow's feet. Her hair remains blue-black despite the rigors of time, and her dark eyes remain keen, a curious artifact of indeterminate age. While her hands are weathered, they are warm, steady, deft.

Even if Vash is not one of those she raised, she still treats him with the same care. Arms, elbows to shoulders. The point of his chin. Hands.

Not a word of the asymmetry in his limbs. Not a breath on how gem-like his irises are, nor of his reputation, or indeed of his angelic appearance in their hour of need. Here he is not Other. When she holds his palms in hers, she squeezes and smiles.

"Well, it's nice to finally have a proper introduction, Vash the Stampede. I’m Melanie." There, then, she slants a knowing glance aside. Wolfwood clears his throat, draws a breath as if to interject, but she shushes him and turns her attention right back with a swipe of thumbs over Vash's knuckles. "And it's a pleasure to meet a friend of Nicholas'. Thank you for being there for him and for Livio. And for us."

Livio cannot contain his quiet 'ooooh.' Almost too quick to see, Wolfwood snaps an arm out to gather him in for a side-hug and a grate of knuckles against ashen hair. Try as he might, squirm as he might, Livio cannot break the headlock, laughing deep and broad and patting for mercy from the relentless noogie.

Fortunately, it doesn't last long; the tiny human in the bassinet fusses and Nicholas freezes.

"...Mmm-hmm, that's about right. Go on, you get her resettled." Melanie releases Vash's hands and smooths her own down the front of her apron, staring meaningfully until Wolfwood disentangles himself to contend with the trouble he's made. She takes his vacated spot, plopping right down into the halo of warmth with a contented sigh. "Now... something tells me this isn't just a social call, but I do hope you have the time to wash up and join us for breakfast.” A beat of pause later, she appends with all the gravity of knowing, “It’s griddle cake and sausage day.” 

Nicholas glances aside to the couch to gauge, but Melanie looks on with encouragement, with trust. Gently, carefully, he stands with the squirmy and now-cooing bundle in the crook of one arm, surrendering his thumb to the ferocious grip strength of a baby who knows she was missing out on something interesting.

Aid was always rendered at a distance. Bandits and thugs looking for an easy mark never found one in this particular corner of the desert. Merchants, tradesmen, all directed and paid to deliver their goods to the orphanage’s front door. One time, Vash managed a circus.

Adjacent is the closest he has ever been. Like Wolfwood and Livio, he has not set foot on its grounds proper since that day. 

There are children old enough to remember. 

Most people do not soon forget when they see such a thing; an explosion of crystalline feathers glimmering in the sun twisted at the breadth of their tips by the torsion of spinning bullets – miraculous or monstrous, and the pendulum generally swings in one direction more often than not. Small problems, petty problems, problems he has faced before. 

What Wolfwood and Livio each face predates him. How they are received is far more important, and it is telling that Vash discerns no ripple of fear, no bated breath as the children watch on with bald curiosity.

Vash flashes his companions a double thumbs up, content to remain a part of the background noise and fuss as they step indoors. He only has the opportunity to study the two rooms they pass on the way to the stairway. Vash drinks in all the organized chaos of everyday life with wide-eyed fascination nevertheless.

Piles of laundry, sorted by color, have been separated into different halves of the room. With children, it is easy to tell which side is which. ‘Clean’ is a temporary state of being in these parts, he imagines. The storage shelves are far from bare, as evidenced from freshly purchased pantry goods and the occasional flash of colorful treats stored at the highest shelves; kept well away from all but the most daring and impertinent hands.

Goggles and his caravan must have made it up the hill and past, then.

For the duration of their walk through the orphanage’s halls, up its worn stairs, past the walls that bear scars of another kind, of smaller hands and smaller feet, Vash tries hard to imagine that Nicholas and Livio were once small. The orphanage itself is a canvas, and nowhere is free from wiggly, scrawling crayon doodles, taped on drawings, or the crowded timelines of many height charts that migrated away from crowded door frames. 

The reunion precludes him– he assumed.

“Oh, uh…” Vash’s brain immediately scrambles for an excuse, and he almost manages one until he looks into Nicholas’s eyes. 

That’s that. 

His arguments disintegrate. Taking Wolfwood’s hand into his own, Vash squeezes and submits himself to inspection on the couch as well.

There are three full-grown men sitting on her sofa, but motherly scrutiny makes boys out of them all. Melanie smiles at them all, hands on her hips.

“Oh, don’t look so dour.” 

She starts from the right, with Livio. Tears brim in her eyes as she reaches out, smoothing her hands over Livio’s elbows and patting up to his broad shoulders, sweeping up to catch his chin and to study his gaze, then back down, taking his impossibly large hands into her own and mapping the lines of his palms with her thumbs. 

The little boy with puffy eyes and a tear-streaked face is still there. He’s old enough not to need so much rescuing from his big brother anymore. With a clean section of her apron, she gently dabs at the corner of Livio’s eyes.

“Looks like someone’s been feeding you well,” Melanie smiles. “Have you been getting enough sleep? I know it can be hard some nights…Remember to focus on your breathing.”

Nicholas next.

Melanie follows the same routine as she did with Livio, shoulders, face, hands. Like the black markings around Livio’s eye and the metal cap over his ear, if she notices the odd glimmer in Wolfwood’s eyes, the peculiar pattern of beard hairs that are more like feathers collected along his jaw, she gives no indication. They have all seen and survived stranger times, and she does not think to question the gift of having Nicholas and Livio here when she learned so long ago that children of blessing are rarely ever seen twice.

Both of them are too young. Too young to carry so much sadness, so much pain, and so much death. 

“Still getting yourself into trouble, I take it?” Usually by helping someone else (so often to his own detriment, so often ending in that very spot on the sofa, in this office). That remains no different then as it does now.  Nicholas looks perfectly healthy otherwise. Of course, she has surmised that there are additional reasons for that. “I’m happy enough knowing you finally decided to take an old woman’s advice.” 

Melanie glances at the final member of their party, who jerks to attention and visibly squirms like a funhouse mirror when she steps in front of him.

“Ahaha…” Vash laughs nervously. “Hi, ma’am. Name’s Vash…the Stampede…”

[alkaidpedia]

SR+ A Way Back: Part 2 Interests

Key: 🦌: Lu Chen/Alkaid 🖌️: MC

One sentence “I want to” almost came out from my mouth. I must compose myself and pretend to calmly ask. (I composed myself)

🖌️: Then, how do you intend to write me? 🦌: I wanted to ask for your opinion. I contemplated, my fingers unconsciously played with his lapel pin. 🖌️: For example, “My appreciation for MC's great contribution in frequently coming and disturbing the production of this thesis”? 🦌: What disturbance are you referring to? MC hugged Alkaid from the back in the scene before, so basically Alkaid tugged her hands up, prompting MC to bend down and fully lean herself on his back. He turned his head, his cheeks lightly rubs me. In his pupils is like there were a luster of gems letting out a bluish green light in the bottom of the ocean and the reflection of the stars rocking. What find of disturbance can only be this nebula of entangled plain silk, suffused with the bluish green ocean waves? I can’t help myself to move closer.

🦌: Your name is only used in the thesis from the last time your helped with the colouring the picture. Lu Chen blinked, facing the monitor with a list of collaborators’ names and their provided help. 🦌: You see, will this disclaimer be alright? His expression was sincere and no ulterior motives although he didn’t pressure anyone, I can’t help but ponder over how this person… Confronting whatever challenge all with ease and skill… How is it still making my heart beat so much for him?

=flashback=

To bring up his interest in astronomy, I could not help to think of the conversation in YueCheng planetarium — 🖌️: Lu Chen, was this the earliest moment your felt a strong interest in astronomy? 🦌: Hmm? 🖌️: The day you came to YueCheng high school for the public astronomy class exhibit, is that day the start of your interest in astronomy? 🦌: Its earlier. 🖌️: Oh? 🦌: Maybe 7 or 8 years old… oh, that's not right, when I was 5 or 6 years old. Lu Chen paused for a moment, it appeared he recalled memories of when he was young. I can’t help but to blink. 🖌️: 20 and 22 years old is somewhat young; but 7 or 8 and 5 or 6 years old is somewhat really young… (The difference of 20 and 22 y/o is a lot lesser than 7 to 8 or 5 to 6 y/o...) 🦌: I don’t remember clearly. Because of Lu Chen’s memory strength, him saying he doesn’t remember clearly I can’t believe him. But he didn’t give me a chance to question him and very quickly the conversation continues. 🦌: In short, it is when I was really young. That time my mother’s work was really busy, sometimes she brought me to her colleague, or let my uncle take care of me. 🖌️: Uncle? 🦌: Mm, he is a taxonomy scholar and he would bring me to walk though the desert, the stary sky looked brighter there than the city… 🦌: Later when I got older, I planned to develop in the field of astronomy, and heard many opinions about it. 🦌: Some said, regardless of whether I do astronomy or explore the world, are both basic scientific research conducted by huge countries with the capability to do so, and many things are not so easy to use in reality. 🦌: Some also said, this is a rigorous and uninteresting subject, it is more of data, code and physics… 🦌: These statements I think are all right. When I mentioned to study astronomy, Lu Chen’s pupils brighten up. 🦌: But I remembered that moment the first time I was convinced. 🦌: Everywhere around me was empty and quiet, all of it was boundless not reaching the edge of the sand, the celestial stars are many and beautiful. Uncle pointed at the sky and taught me how recognise the directions. 🦌: He said, the stars will point you the way home.

[hakesbros]

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[mysticstronomy]

IS LIGHT INFINITE??

Blog#228

Saturday, September 17th, 2022

Welcome back,

The speed of light traveling through a vacuum is exactly 299,792,458 meters (983,571,056 feet) per second. That's about 186,282 miles per second — a universal constant known in equations as "c," or light speed. 

According to physicist Albert Einstein's theory of special relativity, on which much of modern physics is based, nothing in the universe can travel faster than light. The theory states that as matter approaches the speed of light, the matter's mass becomes infinite. That means the speed of light functions as a speed limit on the whole universe.

The speed of light is so immutable that, according to the U.S. National Institute of Standards and Technology, it is used to define international standard measurements like the meter (and by extension, the mile, the foot and the inch). Through some crafty equations, it also helps define the kilogram and the temperature unit Kelvin.

But despite the speed of light's reputation as a universal constant, scientists and science fiction writers alike spend time contemplating faster-than-light travel. So far no one's been able to demonstrate a real warp drive, but that hasn't slowed our collective hurtle toward new stories, new inventions and new realms of physics.

Although the speed of light is often referred to as the universe's speed limit, the universe actually expands even faster. The universe expands at a little more than 42 miles (68 kilometers) per second for each megaparsec of distance from the observer, wrote astrophysicist Paul Sutter in a previous article for Space.com. (A megaparsec is 3.26 million light-years — a really long way.) In other words, a galaxy 1 megaparsec away appears to be traveling away from the Milky Way at a speed of 42 miles per second (68 km/s), while a galaxy two megaparsecs away recedes at nearly 86 miles per second (136 km/s), and so on. 

"At some point, at some obscene distance, the speed tips over the scales and exceeds the speed of light, all from the natural, regular expansion of space," Sutter explained. "It seems like it should be illegal, doesn't it?"

Special relativity provides an absolute speed limit within the universe, according to Sutter, but Einstein's 1915 theory regarding general relativity allows different behavior when the physics you're examining are no longer "local."

"A galaxy on the far side of the universe? That's the domain of general relativity, and general relativity says: Who cares!

That galaxy can have any speed it wants, as long as it stays way far away, and not up next to your face," Sutter wrote. "Special relativity doesn't care about the speed — superluminal or otherwise — of a distant galaxy. And neither should you."

Light in a vacuum is generally held to travel at an absolute speed, but light traveling through any material can be slowed down. The amount that a material slows down light is called its refractive index. Light bends when coming into contact with particles, which results in a decrease in speed.

For example, light traveling through Earth's atmosphere moves almost as fast as light in a vacuum, slowing down by just three ten-thousandths of the speed of light. But light passing through a diamond slows to less than half its typical speed, PBS NOVA reported. Even so, it travels through the gem at over 277 million mph (almost 124,000 km/s) — enough to make a difference, but still incredibly fast.

Originally published on www.space.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, September 21st, 2022)

“DOES LIGHT RUN OUT OF ENERGY??”

[offtorivendell]

Silent Night

For @hacawijo - thank you, my lovely, for being such a gem of a person; you deserve the world.

Merry Christmas, you filthy Elriel!

That goes out to the entire Elriel fam, btw. All my love to each and every one of you - there are too many to tag!

❤🎄❤🎄❤🎄❤🎄❤🎄❤

Thank you @wingedblooms for all your help!

Read it on AO3, if you'd prefer.

Word count: 6891

TW: mild adult content.

Disclaimer: this is a festive Elriel one shot, set at the Winter Solstice a year after the events of ACOSF. Characters and places belong to SJM.

The sun was slowly setting in the sky, the calming colours of a winter dusk infinitely brightened by the snow falling in gently cascading waves of white, silently blanketing the world around her with the hope of a fresh start to come, as Elain Archeron finally reached the kitchen door at the back of the townhouse.

Scuffing the soles of her thickly lined boots against the sturdy doormat, both of those items luxuries she could only have dreamed of a few short years ago, she wrestled with the parcel in her arms, finally freeing a callused hand from her mitten to activate the door's unlocking spell, which was keyed to her once more after her move back to Feyre and Rhys' old home.

It had well and truly been time for her to gain a modicum of independence, yet, thanks to Koschei the Deathless' looming threat, she had had to be reasonable with her choice of abode. The townhouse provided her with her much wanted privacy, but came with protective spells cast by the High Lord of the Night Court himself; it also minimised the potential risk to her neighbours, as they shared no corridors or stairwells with a death god's potential target.

Elain and her family weren't quite sure how Koschei had discovered that she was a Seer, as, for all she and Lucien had a slightly awkward relationship after they had declined their mating bond, she didn't think he would ever betray her like that, but Beron had… let slip the fact that it was information that had been circulating on the Continent, so here she was, once again at risk of being held hostage, or worse. Still, she insisted on paying rent, and refused the offer of any help outside Nuala or Cerridwen running occasional perimeter checks. That was different, though. They were her friends, and she would have done the same and more for them if the situation was reversed.

Sighing as she shoved her way in through the door--and oh, if only her lady mother could see her acting in such an undignified way, she may have had a conniption and passed away all over again!-- Elain put the brown paper package on the stone bench and closed the door behind her.

Azriel’s gift almost hadn't made it in time. At first, after their disastrous encounter last winter solstice, and the heart-wrenchingly awkward indifference that had followed for the year after, she had thought she'd decided against buying him a gift this year. But two months ago, as Elain was sitting and having tea with Nesta, Feyre, and little Nyx at the House of Wind, and she heard her sisters discussing the gifts they had planned for their respective mates, something in her had snapped, and she made up her mind to not let her mistake ruin the first true friendship she had ever made for herself. She needed to heal whatever rift had come between them.

So, knowing she was incredibly short on time, Elain had sent away for a yarn made from the wool of a sheep that thrived in the Winter Court, paid for the outrageous express delivery, and spent her evenings knitting Azriel an undershirt to keep him warm on missions involving wind and ice and snow. She knew he could use his siphons to create a shield, but she would much, much rather he save that magic for protecting himself in case of emergencies. Weaving her wishes and love for him into every stitch, Elain had finally made a black sweater that, though it was lightweight, veritably oozed with softness and warmth and comfort.

But that had only been the first part of her plan. It had taken her longer to knit the undershirt than she had anticipated--a fair few rows of miscounted stitches or uneven tension had had to be fixed--but Elain had delivered her creation to one of the weavers in town who specialised in charming clothes, with instruction to imbue the piece with spells for subtlety, warmth and protection.

Interestingly, though, when Elain had arrived to finally collect the finished item not an hour before, complete with the weaver-witch's profuse apologies for the delay, she had received both a strange look and a comment that no spells would take, except for a very basic stitched rune around the collar and cuffs to help prevent fraying, as the garment already contained its own innate, powerful magic.

Elain had been floored, but quickly thought to mumble something about the wool being specially ordered from the Winter Court, before she had paid the female, thrown her a bright smile and headed back out into the steadily accumulating snow. It had been a long morning of cooking and baking with the twins, a cold march from the river estate to the weaver's shop in Velaris, and the walk home had only served to increase her exhaustion.

Now, as she removed her cloak and hung it in the mud room off the kitchen, she stared at Azriel’s gift with apprehension. Over summer, when discussing how she had been progressing with mastering her Sight, Amren had mentioned her powers, with an 'S'. As in plural. At the time, Elain had assumed it was a slip of the tongue, but…

Is this what she had meant? Was there something else, some otherworldly power, slumbering away below her reborn flesh? She did occasionally feel something, especially when she was angry, but it had frightened her, so she had instead worked to control what little temper she had.

The clock chiming three o'clock in the afternoon roused her from her reverie, reminding her that she needed to wash and dress for her family's solstice gathering this evening, and give Feyre’s birthday cake one final check. Rubbing her temples--when had she started doing that, she wondered--Elain climbed the stairs to her room.

***

Freshly washed and dressed in a velvet gown of such a deep cobalt that it appeared to be black, until the light hit it just so, and carrying her overnight bag--as the chances that no one would be in any shape to fly or winnow her home later on tonight were high--Elain entered the kitchen to see a shadow lazily curling around the parcel she'd left unattended on bench, and stopped short as her heart gave a beat so violent that she thought it might very well have been its last.

She knew that shadow, just like she knew Azriel couldn't be trusted around wrapped gifts, and she suspected why it had come.

Nuala and Cerridwen had planned for whoever of the two was free to arrive soon, in order to help her transport Feyre’s birthday cake to the river house--it was another three-tiered work of art, if she did say so herself--but apparently Azriel had decided to help out this year, because that shadow was decidedly his. She could always tell.

Hurrying to stuff Azriel’s (luckily) wrapped sweater into a blue and silver gift box with a note already inside, she had put the lid on just as she heard a knock at the backdoor. Rubbing slightly sweaty hands on the tea towel hanging from the hook by the stove, Elain braced herself for who she knew would be on the other side as she walked across the flagstone floor of the townhouse's cozy kitchen to open the door.

And there he was. She hadn't seen him for months.

Dressed in an immaculately tailored overcoat and trousers in a black so deep it seemed to devour the light streaming out past her, leather boots polished to a shine and his hair falling softly over his forehead in a manner that just begged her to run her hands through it so she could see all of his beautiful face, his wings shifted noiselessly as he waited to be invited inside. Belatedly meeting his hazel eyes, Elain noticed the pink on his cheeks and realised she was staring; kicking herself internally--she had wanted to repair their friendship, not make her hopeless feelings any more uncomfortably obvious than they already were--she gave him a gentle smile as she stepped aside to let him in.

Heading into the cupboard that was spelled to keep things cool, Elain took a few seconds to calm herself--letting the cold into her veins, to cool herself down--as she collected Feyre’s already boxed cake with a quick peek to ensure it was still standing upright, and then carefully carried it the short distance to the work table in the centre of the room.

Azriel had been staring at the box, a shadow quickly disappearing from view under the table as she returned to the kitchen's main room. Raising an elegantly arched eyebrow, Elain pointedly looked at him, then placed the cake box onto the table.

"Spymasters are supposed to be trustworthy, no?"

Clearing his throat, Azriel chuckled. "When unidentified boxes are sitting in the middle of the room just begging to be inspected, I would argue that it's my job to make sure all is well."

Elain scoffed as she ducked to slip on her heels, then shrugged into her warmest cloak, proclaiming, "It's solstice, and the box is clearly a gift for someone that didn't make it into Rhys' hiding spot. Should a spymaster not have better excuses up his sleeves, ones that play into context?"

Once again, if only her mother could see her now, speaking so boldly in front of a man--a male--who outranked her in almost every way. The thought made her smile.

Azriel stilled a little, wings and shadows settling as he held her eyes while bowing deeply, before straightening once more.

"I do apologise, my lady. Perhaps you would do me the honour of giving me your professional advice on the matter as I convey you to the party? Only it's already busy there, and all the food you helped to prepare will be gone if we're not quick. Cassian and Mor can't help themselves."

Elain grinned. From anyone else, a joke about her 'professional opinion' would have rankled, even if it was kindly meant, but Azriel had always seen her, and listened to everything she had to say. Never judged her, or given her words one jot less respect than he did his High Lord and Lady. Even if he had made it clear in the last year, that she could never dream to have him as a lover, the way they had immediately fallen back into their easy friendship tonight gave her hope that all was not lost, for she would rather have him as her dear friend than not at all.

Placing the gift box in her overnight bag, and shooting Azriel another look, Elain slung the bag over her shoulder before he could offer to carry it for her, careful to miss her long hair, and approached the cake box once more, contemplating.

"How do we do this? I've never carried a giant cake across the city through the shadows before."

Grinning, Az's eyes danced as he looked from the box to Elain. "If you'll allow my shadows the responsibility, they can keep it safe as we fly. Unless you'd rather shadow walk, but the risk of us dropping it is much higher than them."

Elain’s mouth dried in an instant, and the next words out sounded like she'd only just regained her voice after a long illness.

"Fly? Whatever--" she coughed. "Whatever is easiest."

She knew her cheeks were flaming. Shamefully.

Azriel made no movement, uttered no sound, but the air hummed regardless, and the next second she watched as his shadows surrounded the cake box, engulfing it as it melted away into nothingness. Elain's eyes couldn't help but widen at the magical display, and, if she didn't know better, she would have said that Az stood just a bit taller--held his wings a wee bit higher--in response.

He held his arm out for her, manners as polished as any lordling she had known growing up (but shoulders that were much, much broader, she couldn't help but notice). Elain looked up at Azriel, knowing her face was an open book, especially to him, but unable to do much about it.

Another smile softly bloomed on his face. "Shall we?"

Steeling herself for the exquisite pain that was being held by Azriel, when she knew she couldn't hold him back without giving herself away--even if she could manage her face, her heart was racing as if she had sprinted from the Sidra to the townhouse sometime in the last minute--Elain silently looped her arm through his, shivering as he covered her hand with his, and followed him through the door.

The solid oak door closed and locked behind them, and she stood there, mutely, just staring at it as she willed her mind to calm down.

Clearing his throat once more, Azriel beckoned to her with his arms, hinting at what Elain had been both dreading, and relishing the thought, of in equal measure.

"May I?"

Ever the gentle-fae, Azriel still waited, never assuming, until she tore her eyes away from the door and looked at him once more.

"Oh, yes. Sorry." Elain gave him a guilty smile. "I've been a little distracted lately, don't mind me."

Gathering her into his arms as carefully as he would Nyx, Azriel cradled her to his chest as he walked clear of the patio furniture, giving his wings ample space for take off. A cobalt shield flared brightly around them before it faded into a blue glimmer of light, and the chill breeze faded away. A mighty crack and boom echoed around them, and then they were in the air, climbing high above the chimney tops, until Azriel’s wings angled to catch the air current that had them sailing over Velaris as dusk became night.

Softly--so softly she almost didn't hear it--he spoke. "After my behaviour last solstice, I know I have no right to say so, but… if you ever want or need to talk, please know I will always make time for you."

Shocked, Elain could only stare at the scene far below them, a never-ending tapestry of winter wonder, her beloved city and home, as she digested what he had just said. Eventually, and oh so carefully, she responded, weighing every word.

"I know you told me not to apologise, but Azriel, I really am sorry. I put you in that position, I read you wrong, and I am so sorry to have lost our friendship this year." Try as she might, her heart couldn't be calmed as she forced herself to continue, for it needed to be said. "You mean the world to me, and I would much rather have only this, than nothing at all."

There. Her cards were all on the proverbial table. She had become adept at secret keeping over the course of her life, but she never wanted anything to cloud her relationship with him, whatever it may be, ever again.

Azriel gave the ground around them a cursory glance before he angled his head sharply, to look her in the eyes. It was likely just the cold, but she could have sworn there was a distinctive shine to them that she hadn't seen before.

In the end, all he did was close his eyes and give her a brief, tight squeeze, dipping his chin to kiss the top of her hair as he flew on.

Elain managed not to cry with relief. A solstice feat in and of itself.

As they reached the outskirts of the river estate, and Azriel banked to begin their descent, he finally spoke, voice rough.

"You mean the world to me, too, Elain. Please don't ever doubt that."

They landed on the drive at the front of the estate and, tucking his wings in once more, he gently set her down by the steps. Facing him now, Elain could finally look up to his beautiful face without wrenching her neck; she hadn't seen his eyes this joyously bright, nor such a smile on his face, since last year, and she felt herself warming from the shadowsinger's light, the winter wind nipping at their ankles long forgotten.

Smiling broadly, she bowed--an odd look in her gown, granted--and offered Azriel her hand.

"Shall we?"

***

Solstice dinner was, as usual, a long and luxurious affair for the entire inner circle, as they gorged themselves silly on food and wine and family, though Elain spent some time going back and forth between the kitchen and dining room, helping Nuala and Cerridwen, who would be spending the next day with their own loved ones. Luckily, or not, Elain was seated at the opposite end of the table to Azriel, though she frequently felt his eyes on her throughout the meal.

After dessert, which included Feyre’s birthday cake emerging from the shadows unscathed, triumphant in white and gold, as well as sticky date puddings with thick, freshly made vanilla bean custard, they had all gathered around the fireplace to exchange gifts.

This was the part Elain had dreaded and, after putting on a brave face all night, managing to restrict her furtive glances towards Azriel to only once every ten minutes, her nerves were raw, and she had decided she didn't have the strength to give him his sweater in front of their loved ones. To risk the reception highlighting yet another mistake would have been more than her heart could stand, so she left the blue and silver box in her overnight bag, and instead relished in the gifts she gave to the rest of her family.

If anyone noticed the glances she sent to Azriel or her bag, they spared her any comment. She knew, though, with absolute certainty, that Azriel had marked the absence of a particular box. Firstly, he was the spymaster; how could he not? And secondly, she saw a bright, curious shadow hover around her bag before disappearing--the sight of which pulled painfully at her heart. Another surreptitious glance at the shadowsinger caught him staring at her, and, though his face remained neutral, she felt such heat from him that she had to look away, or be trapped for good in the depths of his eyes.

And so, after a long night of various levels of drinking and debauchery, especially after Nyx had been put to bed, Elain, though feeling the effects of her long day--for it was well past midnight and she had risen before dawn--was still oddly energised. She knew what was coming, could not stop it if she wanted to, and could only hope not to blow it this year.

Elain had decided that her best course of action was to head up to her old room to change for bed, waiting for the house to fully come to rest before sneaking back down to, if she was lucky, catch Azriel, and if not, at the very least, leave the box on Azriel’s pile of gifts for him to find tomorrow morning. He would know whom it was from.

But Azriel, it seemed, had anticipated her move, and apparently welcomed it, for he sat by the dying fire, the light of which set his magnificent wings ablaze in shades of orange and red, with two mugs of drinking chocolate--a new arrival from the Winter Court, courtesy of Kallias and Viviane.

He stood quickly, stepped forward, and then stopped, as Elain crossed the threshold of the family room. "You came back down."

Elain stared at him, entranced by the light in his eyes, before once again remembering herself. He really was too easy to stare at. He knew it, too, the handsome bugger.

"You made drinking chocolate, I see." She smiled, "I hope it was from Rhys' personal stash."

Azriel laughed--actually laughed--and Elain felt her heart concurrently ease and speed up; a contradictory experience, but there it was. Only he did this to her. Not even Graysen had discombobulated her so, and she had fancied herself in love with him. She had loved him, she realised now, but not as deeply as she did the male before her.

Sitting back down, he tapped the seat beside him, and held out a mug of the decadently rich chocolate drink. It smelt divine, and, maintaining a little distance between their bodies, Elain accepted it and relaxed into the couch, placing the gift box on her other side. It would never be safe from prying shadows, but there didn't seem to be any visibly about at the moment, anyway.

They sat quietly for a minute, sipping their warm drinks, before: "Good haul this year?"

"Oh, yes." Elain nodded. "Lots of gardening supplies and tools; I can't wait to put them to use come spring. How about you?" She cringed internally at her attempt at small talk, it didn't belong between the two of them.

Azriel smiled guiltily, clearly having come to the same realisation. He always could read her.

He twisted on the spot to get a better look at her, and cleared his throat. If she happened to automatically copy that movement, well, it couldn't be helped. She told herself it was only polite, and not because she was drawn to him as a bee was a blossom.

"Elain, I--" Eyes shining, his throat bobbed as he swallowed before continuing. "I really am more sorry than you know, about last solstice. Please believe that it was never, ever you. It pains me more than I can say, that you've carried guilt with you for a year, for something that was never your fault."

Elain opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again, thoughts whirling as she drew the edges of her wrapper more tightly around herself. How could her misreading of the situation be anyone's fault but her own?

"Az, really," and here he smiled softly at her renewed use of his nickname, "You don't need to take the blame from my shoulders. If I'm in the wrong, so be it. I can only acknowledge it, apologise and move forwards."

Shadows flickered behind his eyes for a moment, before he responded. "You didn't misread me; I practically led you on, then rebuffed you. I am ashamed of my own actions, never yours."

Elain was still for a moment, considering, then she smiled.

"So, we have both decided that we are ashamed of ourselves, yet we still care deeply for the other, and have missed each other horribly for twelve months. How about we agree to drop the shame and just embrace each other, instead?" She blushed a little at the formality of her words, but she realised she would not take them back if she could.

"Deal," Azriel responded vehemently, and held out his hand.

"You've been learning human niceties, I see?" Elain joked as she accepted it and shook firmly.

He began to respond, her hand still clasped in his own, but froze just as Elain noticed a peculiar sensation around her left upper arm. Azriel looked on in alarm as she grabbed it, before pushing the sleeve of her wrapper down to inspect the skin. An oddly familiar golden, serpent-like beast wound around her flesh, the light dancing across it such that it appeared to move of its own accord.

"Azriel, what--?"

He blinked, then rubbed his own left arm. "I suspect that, if I remove my shirt and jacket, I will see a matching tattoo." Looking her right in the eye, he continued, "It appears we have made a bargain."

Oh. Oh!

"To… embrace each other?" Elain swallowed. "Not that I don't want to embrace you. That is--not that I do, either--oh Mother." She laughed. "I suppose we just agreed to keep caring deeply for one another. What's the harm in that?"

Still holding his marked arm, Azriel smiled back at her, face more open than she had seen it before. "I never stopped caring for you, you know." He reached up to gently cup her face, his thumb stroking her neck, and she couldn't help but close her eyes as she melted into his hand for a second.

If only she could stay like this forever.

Coming back to herself, Elain made to twist behind her for Azriel’s gift--they could discuss what their bargain meant later, she needed to do this now, while she had the courage--only to realise that the box was missing. Looking back at Azriel, a cheeky shadow had the box mid-air in between them, and Az was regarding it with keen interest.

"Now, what could this be? Certainly not a gift that you, once again, forgot to give to someone?"

Elain sighed, all exasperation. "Go ahead and open it, Az, it's yours. I know you want to."

Azriel took the box from his shadow and jolted, looking straight back at her. "What is this? I can feel it from here. I've been sensing something all night."

Elain only motioned for him to continue.

Reverently opening the box, then the brown paper wrapping, he removed the knitted undershirt and shook it out, eyes blowing wide. "You--Made this?"

Elain nodded shyly. "Yes, I used the highest quality wool I could find from the Winter Court, and knitted it myself. I know it's not professional level, but… it should keep you warm, at least, when you're away on missions."

Azriel looked at her with wonder. "No, I mean--you really don't realise, do you? You Made this sweater. My shadows can sense the power, same as Nesta’s swords and dagger, and not dissimilar to the items we have from the Dread Trove, either. It's more than a simple spell for keeping out the cold; this sweater is warmth, and…" He closed his eyes, shadows writhing over the garment as he considered. "Protection, and something else."

Elain nodded, completely bemused, but at the same time, feeling as if a window had suddenly been thrown open, shining light onto a deeply buried part of herself that she had, so far, struggled to see. It was, she realised, not unlike the time Azriel had discovered that she was a Seer, when no one else had. Then, as now, the naming of the power had helped her to acknowledge and understand its existence.

She wondered why, but that was something to ponder later. Trembling a little with the realisation, she asked, "If it's so powerful, why didn't anyone else sense it?"

Az pondered for a second before answering. "Made items tend to behave as they see fit, and if it didn't want to be found--that'll be the protective magic, I suppose," he smiled, "Then they wouldn't call to anyone else. I assume that, because this was Made with me in mind…" he blushed now, colour blooming high on his lovely cheeks.

Elain’s own face burnt, she knew she looked much the same. Azriel turned to look her full in the eyes, his own brimming with emotion.

"Elain, do you know what a gift such as this--a donation of power--entails amongst my mother's people, or in the Hewn City?" His voice was deeper, all of a sudden, and a tear or two looked ready to escape from his eyes.

She could only shake her head, worry coursing through her veins. Though she had read up on most Night Court customs, of course, and those of faeries in general, books pertaining to Illyrian customs, or those from the Court of Nightmares, were very hard to find, and Rhys and Cassian would wonder why she was asking, if she had. She had suspected they would catch on pretty quickly, especially if she'd asked after she had told Lucien she wouldn't be pursuing the bond the Cauldron had given them. Had she accidentally put her foot in it?

"Have I insulted you somehow? I never meant to--"

Azriel shook his head vehemently. "No, no. Please. This is the furthest thing from offensive." His throat bobbed. "The custom is usually from a male to a female, fae societies being what they are, but a gift of protection such as this amounts to a… a declaration."

Oh.

He regarded the shirt in his hands with such intense awe, before looking back to her, reaching with his hand, as if he had to hold on to someone to maintain some semblance of calm. She took his hand--of course she did. How could she not?

"I know you couldn't have known what something like this means, but--it means more than you could know, even without the custom, that you would honour me with such a gift." His eyes shone. "If you are still comfortable with me having it, I will treasure it. Always."

Elain was floored, and slightly shocked to realise that she didn't find herself embarrassed at having committed such a severe faux pas. All she could do was hold his eyes with her own, feeling the caress he sent her, reading the meaning hidden behind his careful regard, and trust that something was different this year, for whatever reason. Warmth filled her from the inside out, fighting off the chill air behind her, nothing at all to do with the fireplace over Azriel’s shoulder.

She nodded, but failed to keep her voice light as she said, "Of course it's yours. You honour me by accepting it."

Azriel exhaled a breath she hadn't realised he was holding, and a shadow appeared from nowhere, dancing along his newly tattooed arm before pooling in his cupped hands, and a rose and gold toned parcel appeared. He placed it gently in her hands before she caught on, raising one of his perfect brows, wings rustling slightly, when she didn't move to open it.

Whoops.

Unwrapping the paper and removing the lid, she found three small, burlap bags full of bulbs that looked like--

"These are tulip bulbs, from the Continent."

Elain could only stare. He had remembered? She looked at him, at his face laid bare.

"Maybe one spring we can go together, to see the fields in bloom, but until then, you can plant these where you will, and maybe…" He shook his head and looked away.

"Az, these are perfect." She hoped the true delight in her voice could convince him. "Of course I'll go with you. If they were in bloom right now, I would grab my cloak and we could be off straight away."

Relaxing once more, he managed to look at the bulbs in the box, each bag nestled carefully amongst straw to protect the precious life within.

"These will be red," with a scarred hand, he motioned towards the bag closest to her, which, on closer inspection, had a little red paper tag attached to the tie. "These will be pink, and these white." He motioned to the other two similarly tagged bags in turn.

She could hear his heart begin to beat louder, faster; as if it couldn't be helped, despite his centuries of training and ingrained self-control.

Elain stilled, staring at the box in her lap. Flowers held specific meanings, or even intentions, amongst humans… her own heart raced. She didn't want to assume anything, but he had shaken her hand not a quarter of an hour ago; so he had learnt some human customs, at least. Could he possibly be making his own--

Azriel coughed, and she dragged her eyes up to meet his own. His blush had spread to his ears, and she knew he beheld the blatant question in her eyes as he tentatively smiled; she felt his hands tenderly gather up her own, fingers nesting between each other instinctively, as if they had always belonged that way, but had been waiting for permission to regain their natural state.

Passion and love. Affection and caring. I'm sorry.

She knew her eyes were close to bursting, but she couldn't look away.

Azriel simply nodded as he slipped a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, before letting his hand drop to caress her neck. Elain shuddered lightly, warmth and want blooming with a dual intensity so powerful that she didn't quite believe it was happening. If she woke up now, she would probably cry.

Shifting on the spot, she slowly leant into him, looking up just before she tucked her head into his chest and placed her hand over his raging heart. As his arm went around her shoulders and secured her to his side, his expression was--she could only describe it as him being in a state of disbelief equal to her own.

Was this moment dream or reality? Maybe she should pinch herself.

Breathing in his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar, letting it settle over and into her until she felt it coated her bones and lined her veins, Elain could only ask, "Then why?"

He knew what she meant, and she felt his unease return as he spoke carefully. "Last year, things were different. Feyre and Nyx were at risk, which meant Rhys was, too. Lucien was sleeping here, and there was still an unanswered bond between the two of you."

Elain felt herself stiffening, growing cold. "No, you didn't."

Az sat them up straight, so he could look her in the eye. "No, I absolutely didn't. I would have kissed you then and there, to hell with any consequences."

"Then why? Who--" Elain stopped, eyes narrowing.

He marked the moment of her full comprehension, and nodded once more.

"Rhys stopped you? How could he do such a thing behind my back?" She was seething, anger such as she hadn't known in a long while brewing deep within. "After everything, everything I've been through, every choice I had snatched away… he took another."

She furiously rubbed at the tears flowing unbidden down her cheeks, until calm, callused hands arrested her own; she stilled, sniffing.

"Mother, I'm pathetic."

"No. Never," Azriel breathed. "You are hope woven iron, and stronger than you know. And, while I was also furious with Rhys, and am still angry with him, I am also to blame for what happened that night. I should have told you, or made sure Rhys or Feyre did."

"That--that is true, and thank you for admitting to it." Her voice grew stronger. "Please don't ever keep information about me from me again. My family has always tried to shield me from the smallest of truths, I don't want the same treatment from you."

Still holding her hands, Azriel moved to kneel before her, repentance clearly writ across his features. "Elain, I cannot promise that I won't ever act to protect you, as I assume you couldn't promise to never protect those you love, but I will promise you honesty."

Elain gave him a watery grin. "Those terms are both acceptable and understandable. But I find myself wanting to catch a toad in the garden and have one of your shadows deliver it to Rhys' bed… though Feyre probably wouldn't appreciate it."

Azriel laughed, gathering her into his arms as he stood. Elain's arms twined about his neck as if she'd done it a thousand times before.

"I wonder if she'd understand?" She mused. "But still, probably best not to risk it."

Nodding into the top of her hair, Azriel hummed his agreement.

Wanting suddenly to stand and face him more than anything, Elain twisted her legs; Az let them drop gently to the floor in front of him, his hands sliding to her waist. Breathing deeply, she let her right hand fall from his neck to the centre of his chest, as her left moved to his jaw and stilled. Unintentionally, or perhaps not, his wings stretched wide and resettled behind him, and Elain wondered at their beauty.

"So, you researched human greeting etiquette and the secret language of flowers, hmm?"

Azriel chuckled softly, skimming a hand back up her side in a long, languorous stroke to cover her own on his chest. "I did. But you Made a sweater, if we're comparing effort here." He tapped her nose. "After you and Lucien talked, and decided you weren't interested in each other, I knew I wanted to try again, but I had to make it special to you. I didn't want to rush into it, especially if you were still upset at me."

Elain met his eyes squarely. "I rather wish you had, we could have saved a lot of time."

The strangled laugh that followed her declaration made Elain smile in return, until Azriel turned his full attention back to her once more. Only, this time, there was nothing neutral left in his gaze; under his eyes, she felt completely exposed. But she liked it.

His hand gripped her hip, pulling her into him. Voice low, he breathed, "Oh, my dear. We have all the time in the world."

Any remaining doubt dissolved, and Elain felt herself shiver in response, toes curling into the carpet. Azriel’s nose flared, and she knew he could tell exactly what she was feeling. What his proximity, his voice, did to her.

Drifting up onto her toes without realising it, she found herself whispering into his ear, "I should go to bed."

He froze; that preternatural stillness of which only the most powerful fae were capable. In anyone else it would have set off every ingrained warning signal she had, but in Azriel it didn't just excite her, it thrilled her to the core.

"Yes, you should." His voice was deadly soft.

She could follow his own scent; could feel the need between them growing by the second. She wasn’t going anywhere without him. This thing between them had been building for years, and they had waited long enough.

She felt his hand slip up into the base of her hair and grip just hard enough to make her whimper with need, and he smiled. "You like that, do you?"

Elain nodded. She really did.

Azriel's wings flared out once more, almost hitting the wall, as he used the back of her head to tip her mouth up towards his. She couldn't stop staring at his lips, and she realised, with surprisingly little shame, that she was panting--her heart thundering in her chest as her right hand had clenched the fine material of his jacket hard enough to leave wrinkles.

She could have kicked herself as the people pleaser in her surfaced, and she moved to smooth his lapel. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I don't know what came over me."

Azriel took hold of her hands, putting a stop to her fretting. "Don't be sorry. I like the idea of you leaving your mark on me."

Elain looked up at him, biting her bottom lip. She saw him track the movement, intent in every line of his body, as she said softly, "I--I think I like that idea, too. Of marking you, of being marked by you." Her body practically sang at the thought.

Azriel actually growled at that, the sound washing over her, bringing with it a new wave of need.

She needed him. Now.

His hand was back in her hair, she was looking up at him once more, and it felt as though time had stilled while they waited for the other to break their stalemate. Azriel must have realised that she had used up most of her bravado for one evening, though, because he finally uttered the words she had longed to hear for almost two years.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Elain."

"Yes," she breathed.

"But first, I'm going to take you somewhere private."

She had enough presence of mind left to think of clearing up the evidence of their late night meeting, but Azriel just dropped his mouth to her ear.

"Don't worry, the shadows will deal with it."

"That’s… very handy," was all she could manage.

He chuckled, dark as his shadows themselves. "Yes, they can be."

They were so close their foreheads finally met, and Elain’s heart leapt at the casual intimacy. It was something she had seen her sisters share with their mates over the years, and she had begun to lose hope that she would ever experience such a true act with another.

Tipping her chin up a fraction more, she nudged Azriel’s perfectly straight nose with her own--she'd ponder another day how he had been a warrior for over five centuries and not had it set crookedly after a break--and smiled so brightly the shadows behind him lightened in response.

"So… you mentioned somewhere private?"

Azriel pulled her so close their hips met, teasing her with his hands in her hair and at her waist. When she was nearly wild with need, he finally brought his lips down to hers, grazing them--provoking, soft and perfect--before pulling away with a groan.

"Are you ready?" Was the only warning she received before he had her cradled in his arms once more, though her hands caught on pretty quickly, and found their way to his shoulders; for stability, of course.

Laughing, she asked, "What are you doing? I do have legs, you know."

Wings flaring and shadows rising, Azriel hitched her tightly against him. "I'm embracing you," he growled. "I don't plan to let go for a while."

No sound came out, but Elain’s mouth pouted open as she felt her newly acquired tattoo send tingles down her arm, as if to remind her of its existence.

"Hold tight," Azriel whispered, lowering his mouth to hers once more. "And don't make a sound."

*

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