#Farewell discourse

[friarmusings]

What does it all mean?

Our gospel text for the 6th Sunday of Easter comes from a section of the “Farewell Discourse” that focuses on Jesus’ departure and discusses the disciples’ relation to Jesus and their conflict with the world. Our gospel pericope falls at the end of this section. The “Farewell Discourse” stretches over several chapters, seems to curl back on itself with repeated messages and promises – and to…

[borgialucrezia]

i'm just thinking about arthur getting terrified of tommy when he broke down after the failed assassination of mosley and instead of approaching him and trying to reassure him, he sneakily took out the bullets of his gun while driving back to the mansion and let him roam wild in the field acting all suicidal. and by letting him run into the field alone at least he knows that tommy can't kill himself with an empty gun... it's batshit to me how his assumption of tommy killing himself turned out correct and he saved his life by emptying the gun...these two are so fucked up actually.

[dailykallura]

Thinking so much about the intimate way the camera focused on the physical closeness of Keith and Allura on their final hug... Zoomed all the way in to obscure how their bodies touch, yet still emphasizing the proximity of their faces to each other.

The way this hug, in 40 frames, establishes the intensity, yet deniability, of their relationship - because everyone else got visible loving yet despairing hugs and a soft kiss, but Keith and Allura got a sustained focus on just their faces. And still, the depth of the intimacy and sadness is laced in the animation - Allura, slowly approaching Keith, eyes closed even before she touches him; Keith, the curl of his body subtle in the way his head minutely bows as they hold each other, his facial expression central to the experience.

We never do see them separate from this embrace.

[epiphainie]

My controversial response to your controversial weewoo show post is that the show doesn't care about the recurring queer characters at all. They barely care about Hen most of the time. It took until the Karen and Athena scene in 8B for Karen to be allowed to exist away from Hen as a character even though Karen has been in the show since season 1. Josh has been downgraded to Maddie's gbf with a brief stint as a gay Yoda for Buck and it's a surprising downgrade when I thought the lowest they could go before was gay bashing as a plot device. So I'm not surprised at the shit they pulled with Tommy. Or even the decline in the writing the writing for Buck.

oh 100% i think my controversial bcktmmy opinions always boil down to "the show doesn't care about tommy like that" anyway. it just strikes me as odd everytime i see a post about how "tommy is the only blah blah" and "unlike this character/this LI, tommy is yadda yadda" and i'm like really, is he? or did we make up this guy in our heads bc i'm not seeing the show being interested in tommy like that to build all that we're arguing. like idk i think it's partially wishful thinking/shipper goggles bc ofc we're gonna adorn the little canon we have of them (like this is an argument for another day but i need to squint really hard to see how the show's saying tommy made buck feel at home in 8x11 instead of he was a plot convenience for buck to move onto the "oh yeah my bff is gone but i'll be okay with it" stage with his abandonment issues) but i also partially think it's ship war goggles bc accepting anything less than "tommy's the most important love interest in the narrative so far" "tommy's the only person who treats buck right" "see how he's being folded into the greater narrative" feels like you're giving ground to the bvddies who take it to the other extreme.

tommy suffers the fate of being a queer character and being a buck love interest where all the show needs for him to do is lead buck to the next stage of his arc (making buck realize he's bi, leaving him so buck's alone again, coming back so he can be the mouthpiece for "are you in love with your bff bc we don't know how to write a queer awakening story without highlighting the in-love-with-straight-bff cliche") and to be potentially useful for the plot (cool helicopter and also nice that he can be suited in the flashbacks). like to me he hasn't been treated as seriously by the narrative as even taylor was. taylor at least had conversations with other characters ffs. and you're so right about this being a queer rep issue bc how tommy has been treated as a character and the show's lack of actual commitment to bcktmmy as an important storyline is a part of the bigger conversation about bi's buck rep

[rhiaarrow]

I'm seeing a large amount of anxiety posting or doomposting here tonight so I'm just gonna take this opportunity to remind everyone here that it's okay to feel that way but if it ever gets too much, it's okay to just walk away.

Even just for a little bit, close the tab and go get a drink of water or just take a minute to yourself.

Don't feel obligated to interact with anything that causes you to feel stressed out.

It's okay to be optimistic about the situation in the same way that it's okay to be more critical. Unfortunately in the grand scheme of things, we don't have all the answers or the knowledge of what's going on behind the scenes, we won't know how things are happening until it's publicly announced.

The dismissal of the update account admins isn't really something that any of us wanted to hear had happened but it's at least a sign that things are actually being done behind the scenes.

Even if it may not seem like much it's at a small piece of proof that the admin funding issues are being addressed. Of course it unfortunately meant that it was revealed that they couldn't afford to keep the updates accounts admins but it's a small modicum of knowledge that they're at least looking into funding admins behind the scenes.

It's still frustrating not knowing what's going on and being left in the dark but ultimately there's nothing we can do except wait for news from an official source.

If I'm being honest stopped really watching as much Qsmp since the admin break, I've watched a couple past vods here and there and obviously I still watch Bad everyday (it's literally a part of my daily routine at this point) but I've not really been marathoning povs like I used to.

The admins were the life of the server and without them it just feels wrong, I was remaining hopeful while I watched Bad play on the server but his statement about reaching his limit today sorta hit.

Because yeah, I've reached a limit too.

I still love Bad and my other cubitos but the server right now just isn't hitting the same. So I'm gonna take my own advice and step back from the content and its fandom for a little bit.

Ultimately there's nothing I can do to help the situation at all and contributing my thoughts on something I have no real knowledge of just isn't really helping anyone.

I'm not getting overwhelmed by the doomposting or anything, I'm just choosing to distance myself for a little bit.

Although I do have qBads backstory to thank for reminding my old Ancient Mythology special interest from years ago which has overpowered my recent Qsmp fixation, so at least my brain has something to do while I take my little Qsmp break for a day or two :)

[gayvephelis]

you know what gang. self care. i think I'm gonna take a break from tumblr for a couple days ✌️✌️

[pilgrimjim]

The Paschal Wisdom of Holy Week

In the Garden, an icon by the hand of the artist, Angelica Sotiriou, 2009. I’m writing this on Maundy Thursday, the night of Jesus’ tender farewell supper with his friends—and the night he was handed over to malevolent powers. The beautiful icon from the hand of California sacred artist Angelica Soteriou [i] captures the wrenching moment between the solidarity of his loving community and the…

[daddytoki]

The Shinsengumi will depart Edo tomorrow; as the city mourns the loss with a heavy downpour, Okita Sougo, the esteemed Captain of the first division, bleeds out in a shallow canal. Across from him lies the equally-battered bane of his existence. She'd opened up his stitches with that last blow. He ponders the irony of dying in this ditch after all they'd been through. Well, if this is how it ends... "Go out with me," he says, as nonchalant as he can manage with a tongue that feels like sandpaper. Hopefully his rival will be too tired out to kill him for it. Said rival scrunches up her nose at the sky and gives it a moments thought. Sougo counts each second by the heartbeat. After an agonizing moment of consideration, Kagura delivers her verdict. "Nuh-uh."

part 2 of: assert dominance by always having the last word

2/3 done only one more to go

[gmaybe666]

I’m an adult with a blog so i I get to say it. I thought the scene in ep 1 of shōgun where kiku seduces/has sex with yabushige’s manservant/assistant in front of yabushige was fucking hot okay. im sad we didn’t get more of that!!!!!

[hyakinthou-naos]

HelPol Discourse & Ableism

A more nuanced addition to this post - which I made on a low spoons day (if you're just interested in the ableism part then scroll to the bottom).

The Dunning-Kruger Effect

“The Dunning–Kruger effect is a cognitive bias in which people with limited competence in a particular domain overestimate their abilities”

- Wikipedia

The Duning-Kruger Effect was first pointed out to me by another pagan practitioner - and in that context it was used to describe those who claim to know what is “right” or “wrong” for all practitioners within a given tradition.

This fellow practitioner (I can’t remember their name - this was at least 2 years ago) pointed out that those who are incredibly knowledgeable about a given tradition don’t tend to go around policing others practices.

Why?

Because being knowledgeable about any religious or spiritual tradition means recognizing how incredibly human made traditions are. They are loose - flexible - ever changing and ever evolving within both individual and community practice.

Now - that doesn’t mean “anything goes” within a tradition or religion, quite the opposite.

It instead means that the best way to create a cohesive tradition (or revive a cohesive tradition) is through working together as a community to discuss what is and isn’t valid praxis.

One individual (or a small group of individuals) speaking on behalf of an entire community is very rarely a good idea.

Bold “unpopular opinion” posts - telling others what is and isn’t valid praxis - is not only incredibly hubristic, but is also only going to lead to anger and infighting.

It is through conversation that we can get to the root of an issue and try to find consensus as a community.

As an example: I could make a post explaining my interpretation of, and feelings around, people worshipping Medusa. I could explain that I have negative feelings because this type of worship was not seen in antiquity. But then I could also make it clear that this is just my opinion - and that I’d be interested in hearing others points of view*

*some of those caught up in this controversy have done this, and have wrongly been demonized for it - while others have done the exact opposite, stating their opinion as law.

If someone makes a post similar to the example and you’re still going to be antagonistic or cruel - then just block that person. You’re going to save both them and yourself a lot of needless stress.

If someone makes a post that is actively inflammatory - you can do one of two things:

1. If you have the energy and bandwidth, you can engage with them in a discussion or civil debate.

2. If you don’t have the energy or bandwidth, or if OP is unwillingly to engage you in such talks, then just block them. Again - it will save you a lot of needless stress.

Lastly - we as Hellenic Polytheists need to be better about our ableism.

If there is something in our faith that is ableist (example: you must always stand with arms outstretched during ritual) then it shouldn’t be part of our faith.

Just because some people do not have any limitations on their physical mobility or mental energy - does not mean that the able-bodied way of doing things gets to be the default or “correct” way of practicing our faith.

I want to make a longer post on the ableism that is rampant in both the HelPol and wider Pagan communities - but for now I think that will suffice.

Askbox is open, as are DMs - The Temple is always open to community building, community discussion, and (civil) community debate.

Eirene - peace and farewell,

- Temple Hyacinthus

[hawtlineblingz]

My Thoughts on Zayne's Hidden Motive Discourse

pic : chibiayato (x)

Disclaimer : this post is made as a response and purely written by my understanding and opinion on recent discourse that happened on tiktok regarding the hate and mischaracterization on Zayne. This post isn't proof read and English is not my first spoken language so i appologize for bad grammar / spelling mistakes and i hope my points and arguments can came trough correcty.

! DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER PLATFORM (link shares are okay) !

Context :

I'd like to put out my arguments, as proof that i highly do not support the narration, the hate train from TikTok community has on zayne saying "they made him a pushover wattpad boy on this card" and said this card is Zayne being very OOC.

Before putting out my thoughts. I want to point out that i wrote this based on the game's JP Dub because i understood Japanese better and i just want to say that there are alot of contexts and implied language that unfortunatelly got lost on the EN translations.

[Proof media shown below]

Quick summary of the card and proofs :

At the beginning of this memory MC got injured on a mission and zayne suddenly was positioned as the helping medical staff for the area that MC we're working on though he lied about his reasoning during this moment.

Their interaction is highly implied that zayne communicates with her as Zayne the Doctor and Zayne as MC's romantic partner.

Its clear that zayne uses different words when talking with her as a Doctor and as a non platonic partner and so is his tone when speaking.

Proof 1 :

After treating her wound as a doctor, he put MC hair behind her ears and, told her that he's going back to work.

(Vid down below)

If u watch the JP dub u can clearly tell this is him playing 2 different figures at the same time.

Proof 2 :

When MC we're talking to the kid that she saved, Alfred, he told her that she was very strong, and she asked if he wants to see her solid abs. But then Zayne came in, while coughing, and said

Though on the JP dub he says "That's useless, a kid shouldn't be seeing that". In a teasing way, though his tone is very stoic and he said it with a poker face.

And after that he spoke to her switching being a doctor and a partner again, when he told her to wait in the treating room 5. He does this for litterally the whole menoria, but i think 2 examples are enough as a proof.

Proof 3 :

The mention of "fortune telling". A reference to Zayne's MYTH 2. It's not really important but i just wanna point this one out to argue that during this conversation Zayne n MC clearly have a healthy realtionship he mentions alot about her wellbeing as a very important part of his stress management, seeing her well and able to banter with him put his mind at ease, knowing MC's nature to be a little bit reckless and clumsy.

Proof 4 :

When Alfred told MC and Zayne that they we're invited to the farewell ceremony, and asked them if they could attend, she bargained Zayne for his time to appreciate the people on the area, calling him "医者のおじさん" or Uncle Doctor. And Zayne referes to himself as both Uncle Doctor and Brother Doctor or "医者のお兄さん" now this is very important. Because this shows a concrete proof that Zayne has been playing 2 person figures during his time at the local's hospital. As Dr. Zayne and 'just' Zayne.

On the JP dub he said "Uncle Doctor might be busy, but Brother Doctor might have some time to spare". This important context is basically not translated well on the EN dub. And he is not acting OOC.

Proof 5 :

At the farewell ceremony, MC and Zayne talked about life and death meaning and value, as a hunter and a doctor. On this part u can clearly hear Zayne is a little bit upset on how reckless MC is as if she doesn't value her life enough to help people. She told him about already having her last wishes but she stopped herself because he interupted her, Zayne is upset, again, u can hear him clearly not happy at the way she positioned herself and her life against danger and death.

He made his boundaried clear especially having to positioned himself as a cardiac surgeon on how it's hard when he had touched someone's naked beating heart on his own palm, doing an OC-CPR. Trying to save that person.

During this time MC fell silent as she think about everything and rechoose her words, reminding herself how difficult it is to prevent and save someone from death.

Proof 6 :

When the lanterns being released to the sky MC said that the lights is beautiful, he nods at her saying "yes, its beautiful" but he didn't even turn around to look at the lantern, his eyes are glued to her posing for the picture. A VERY IMPORTANT POINT, he admited that he IS talking about her, not the lantern. You can tell on how his yearning for her is growing here, It's not everyday Zayne can be this transparent with his intentions especially when being asked.

Proof 7 :

As MC fell asleep on his car after the flight he asked if she wants him to drop him off at her place, but then he asked again, gently, if she wants to just stay at his place. Again, hints for his yearning on his voice.

NOW. This one has been a point of hate on Zayne because on the EN translation he said this :

While on JP he said "if u can't answer it now, i'm assuming it's a okay". Now this sentence implying a hint of worryness on how tired and sleepy she was.

The people on tiktok pointed out that Zayne did not care about her consent while on the card, is clearly said that MC did KNEW and RECALL she went straight to Zayne's house. The situation isn't like as if Zayne took her somewhere shady without her consent. And he treated her with so much care by cooking her breakfast.

Proof 8 :

Now here Greyson exposes Zayne to MC that he insisted that he wanted to took the medical mission on a high risk quaranteened area, even though he was positioned on a less dangerous area beforehand. He even said Zayne acts like he doesn't care much trough his words but Zayne is actually CARES and WORRIES about her alot.

We can see trough out his latest cards, every emotions are drawn on his voice and body language.

Proof 9 :

During this part it stated that Zayne did gave MC permission to overstep his boundaries by pursing his lips, giving permission MC to touch his skin.

- every convo during this part is Zayne  flirting with MC and the boombayah happened and they took a nice nap-

Proof 10 :

Post sex nap convo between Zayne n MC shows how Zayne has changed as a person, his tone is very gentle and witty, clearly he's comfortable with her, and another clear sign of a healthy relationship. On this moment, Zayne starts up a topic about being open, and straightforward is very important to him, but MC revoked Zayne by saying he also isn't being transparent with her, Zayne kisses her forehead and said that he hates hearing things about her wellbeing from other people, it made him feel like an outsider. And the rest of the conversations is MC and Zayne giving each other reassurance regarding keeping each other safe and sound.

Now i'd like to mention a few things from Zayne's previous card, Snowy Serenity, and a few things from Zayne's Find Tobias' (Abyssal Chaos) coversations with MC.

That the main 2 problems within Zayne and MC's relationship are :

1. Zayne is really bad at letting people hear what they wanted to hear even if it's to give the other person a sense of security, he sometimes a bit too blunt and too honest, but he's willing to work it out. This was also briefly mentioned on the Heartwork Routine Event.

2. Zayne and MC is struggling to be alot more open with each other because they don't want to worry their partner.

On Abyssal Chaos MC said that Zayne has changed by being more bold and flexible with her. Shown how much he's being alot more confident in engaging PDA.

The pattern with them is they both need something impactful and intimate to be able to open up. On Snowy Serenity Zayne was missing. And on Hidden Motive MC was injured. But after that theres an improvement between their relationship as the intimacy gave them a safe space to be open to one and another.

The Zayne hate on TikTok mainly focuses on how they said Zayne is turning into another wattpad boy and everything is OOC, but from the proofs i have stated above clearly i dont agree with that because i see it as Zayne and MC are both working out their relationship, and Zayne is constantly working himself up to be a better person who is willing to communicate.

The crowd on TikTok are blaming Infold and Sylus for "dragging" Zayne into another Wattpad based character while, again, I think Zayne character development is very well written, i don't feel like this card is fanservice-y, even though this whole game is a fanservice, i get it, it's one of the selling point of an otome game.

The thing with Zayne being bolder when it comes to intimacy shows on how much MC already trusts him, and how he has become very comfortable with her, Zayne is the type of person who has a habit of bottling his emotions, even though he got praised by almost everyone for his incredible self control. But Zayne on this timeline is a normal human being with physical - spiritual needs and emotions, not a demigod, not a mythical creature. Zayne himself has a breaking point considering how much restraint, yearning, has been closed of from affections he already been trough growing up. AND him letting loose his self control and lowering his guard down is not an incredibly OOC act, in fact most of the time initiated the intimate acts as shown on his previous cards, once MC flags up her green flag he took the lead.

Plus, this is a relationship is between two consenting adults. Everyone can tell this isn't the first time they engage in intimate / sexual activity.

As time goes by and the story progresses obviously we're going to see changes, and process within the characters. Zayne is not a block of wood and he is not an exception. Blaming Sylus and Infold writter for this is also not a solution, even Sylus himself is not a typical wattpad / booktok CEO. Though, again in otome games it's very common to have tropes between the love interest and the protagonist. I just hope the hate on Zayne stops, because i honestly enjoys his character writing. Same with the TikTok community hate on Xavier saying he gr00med MC, and saying Caleb is into inc3st relationship, i don't even understood how the mischaracterization on the boys are so severe on TikTok it's kind of sad.

Infold writers incorporates so many linguistics and cultural reference that's also a shame it's not translated well enough to the EN sub and dub so often times people missed their opportunity to understand why the card title is "Hidden Motive".

Ending statement from me is that i wish many players would do their own indepth reading and understanding before making a misleading scene on social media, this is why sometimes a certain fandom / community can't have nice things because of their own fandom and actions can lead to a train of hate and misconceptions regarding the game and our boys.

Proofs exhibit below

I highly suggest to watch the whole card on EN dub and other language dub (on this case its JP dub) as a comparison because the underlying contexts on some of the sentences are different.

[friarmusings]

The Promise of the Paraclete

Our gospel text for the 6th Sunday of Easter comes from a section of the “Farewell Discourse” that focuses on Jesus’ departure and discusses the disciples’ relation to Jesus and their conflict with the world. Our gospel pericope falls at the end of this section. “The Advocate, the holy Spirit that the Father will send in my name—he will teach you everything and remind you of all that (I) told…

[rpfshippingpolls]

⚠️ DON’T START DISCOURSE ABOUT RPF IN THE NOTES!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO SO ⚠️

Do you ship it?

Reason:

“What if we were both revolutionaries and we kissed? (Read Che's farewell letter to Fidel)”

Submitted by @castroxche

[verstappensrealwife]

Just Friends - Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

[ lando norris masterlist  / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... they go from friends to lover. ʚɞ fluff  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 2300 words ʚɞ warnings: drinking alcohol, mentions of drunkness, kissing.

-୨♡୧-

You have known Lando practically since the day you took your first breath—well, maybe not quite that early, but close enough. He was barely two when you entered the world, your mothers having been friends since their school days. So, it was only natural that he made an appearance at the hospital with his mother to welcome you into the world.

His first reaction upon meeting you was a mixture of surprise and disappointment, his innocent query about your gender met with tears when your mother revealed you were, indeed, a baby girl. It's a story you never fail to bring up whenever he expresses admiration for you.

"Y/N, you're such an amazing person," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol, as you practically carried him through the pulsating lights and booming music of the club. His arm draped heavily over your shoulders, you were on a mission to save him from humiliating himself with an ill-advised karaoke rendition of a Queen song.

"You didn't think I was this great when I was born," you quipped, your own sobriety a stark contrast to his inebriated state. In fact, you hadn't planned on being in the club at all. It was Lando who had insisted on your presence, summoning you to "rescue him from this esteemed establishment!"

Today, Lando, you and a few others found yourselves dining together. The evening air was balmy, with the soft glow of summer casting a golden hue through the windows, illuminating your face in a particularly enchanting manner.

He won’t deny looking at you a little longer sometimes, and quickly coming to his senses by stopping immediately. Just a friend.

You found yourselves amidst the lively celebration of a friend's engagement, nestled by a large window that framed the enchanting evening sky. The restaurant exuded a cosy ambiance, with lush greenery draping the walls and vibrant artwork adorning every corner. Across the room, the exposed brick walls added a touch of rustic charm to the eclectic space.

The table before you was a veritable feast, adorned with an array of delectable dishes and overflowing drinks—empty glasses serving as a testament to the spirited revelry that had unfolded. Amidst the cheerful chatter of your companions, you found yourself engaged in a spirited discourse with your friend beside you, passionately expounding on the intricacies of drink measurements, though your slightly slurred speech betrayed your less-than-sober state.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the scene, you settled your portion of the bill and rose from your seat, bidding farewell to each friend with warm hugs and heartfelt kisses. Exiting the restaurant alongside Lando, you were met with the cool night air and the anticipation of your awaiting ride.

With the Uber en route and a mere seven minutes away, you and Lando stood side by side in comfortable silence, the faint glow of his phone illuminating his features as he scrolled through Instagram. Occasionally, he would eagerly show you a post, finding amusement in the most obscure content, prompting an amused quirk of your eyebrow or an incredulous shake of your head.

When he insisted on the hilarity of yet another post, you regarded him with mock incredulity, your eyes silently questioning his sense of humour. His playful insistence only served to deepen your amusement, eliciting a hearty laugh that bubbled from deep within your chest.

The video showed himself as “Lando Norizz”.

"I do have ‘rizz’, you know," he declared with mock indignation.

“As if,” You snorted, “Prove it tough guy.”

Drawing closer to you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. The proximity of his body, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the intensity of his gaze should have rendered you speechless—if only you were sober. Instead, you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound ringing out into the night air.

Apologies tumbled from your lips between fits of laughter, though any offence Lando might have felt had quickly dissolved into shared amusement. Chuckling together, you settled into the Uber, the echoes of your laughter filling the night as you made your way home.

As you stumbled through the door of your apartment, Lando in tow, the weight of laughter and shared moments still lingering in the air, you tossed your keys onto the side table with a careless flick and collapsed onto the inviting embrace of the couch. Without missing a beat, Lando joined you, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of the night. With an affectionate eye roll, you nudged him playfully as he settled beside you, the warmth of his body a familiar presence against your own.

He reached for the remote, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. He flicked on the TV, the ambient murmur of the characters serving as a gentle backdrop to the two of you being occupied by other things. Despite the lure of the TV screen, your attention remained steadfastly on the book you were reading, Lando’s on his twitter feed.

"Was my charm really that terrible?" he queried out of the blue.

You glanced up, eyebrows knitting together in contemplation before offering a nonchalant shrug. "It wasn't horrendous," you admitted.

"So... any pointers? What went wrong?" he pressed, a hint of curiosity lacing his words.

"Because I was a tad more drunk thirty minutes ago, and besides, we're friends," you replied matter-of-factly, returning your attention to the book you had been engrossed in.

As the weight of your words settled between you, Lando felt a pang of realisation pierce through him like a dagger. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth he had been oblivious to until that moment. The casual dismissal of his attempts at charm stung deeper than he cared to admit, a stark reminder of the invisible barrier that separated them. With a heavy heart, he watched you return to your book, the distance between you feeling more pronounced than ever before. In that fleeting moment, Lando's gaze lingered on you, his heart aching with the silent acknowledgment of what could never be—a realisation that left him feeling more alone than he had ever felt before.

He coughed awkwardly, the sound breaking the tense atmosphere like a fragile thread snapping under pressure, and rose from his seat with uncharacteristic haste. "I- um- I'm gonna go to bed," he mumbled, his words stumbling over each other in a clumsy attempt to fill the silence.

"Alright," you replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him retreat. "No funny business in my spare room!" you called after him, injecting a note of levity into the moment.

His laughter echoed in the hallway, a bittersweet melody that lingered long after he had disappeared from view, leaving behind a lingering ache in his chest as he wrestled with the realisation that his unspoken desires would forever remain unfulfilled.

The next morning, as you nursed your slight hangover with a steaming cup of coffee, you sought solace in scrolling through TikToks in the comfort of your kitchen. The first few videos passed by in a blur of mundane content, until your own face suddenly appeared on the screen.

You weren't a celebrity by any means, but being known as Lando's friend had its consequences, as evidenced by the video capturing the previous night's awkward encounter outside the restaurant. Your groan echoed in the quiet kitchen as you watched the clip unfold, realising with a sinking feeling that your innocent moment with Lando had been misconstrued by the watching world.

He was mere centimetres away from you in the video, his gaze unmistakably fixed on your lips with an intensity that made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was clear to anyone watching that his intentions had been misinterpreted, yet the damage had already been done. As the video looped, each replay serving as a painful reminder of the misunderstanding, you couldn't help but wonder how something so innocent had been twisted into something else entirely.

As you read through the comments, a curious mixture of amusement and surprise washed over you as you noticed a recurring theme emerging: shipping you and your friend, Lando. At first, you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, scoffing at the playful speculation and fanciful theories concocted by strangers on the internet. But as you delved deeper into the comments, something shifted within you.

With each passing remark, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of recognition that began to take hold. You found yourself reflecting on the countless moments you and Lando had shared together— the inside jokes, the late-night conversations, the unwavering support through thick and thin. And as you considered the undeniable bond that existed between you, you couldn't help but acknowledge the striking parallels between your friendship and that of a romantic relationship

Suddenly, the playful banter and lighthearted teasing that had once been the hallmark of your friendship took on a new significance, leaving you grappling with the realisation that perhaps there was more to your connection with Lando than you had initially realised. With a newfound sense of introspection, you closed your phone, the words of the commenters lingering in your mind as you pondered the possibility of something more between you and your friend.

As the minutes ticked by and your thoughts swirled with newfound clarity, a profound realisation settled within you like a weight in your chest: you wanted him. Wanted him in a way that transcended the boundaries of friendship, in every conceivable sense. You wanted his laughter to be the melody that filled your days, his warmth to be the comfort that enveloped you in moments of doubt, his presence to be the anchor that grounded you amidst life's storms.

Yet, amidst the fervent desire that pulsed through your veins, a gnawing uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your newfound revelation. Did he feel the same? Did he see you as anything more than just a friend? The questions lingered, casting a shadow of doubt over your burgeoning feelings, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the prospect of laying your heart bare.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the kitchen counter, the weight of your newfound realisation settling upon you like a mantle. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with the potential for heartache and rejection, yet amidst the swirling tumult of emotions, one thing remained clear: you couldn't ignore the undeniable truth of your own heart any longer.

As he strolled into the kitchen, the sight of him shirtless and clad in joggers that seemed all too familiar sent a jolt of warmth coursing through you. Yet, as you met his gaze, the weight of your realisation pressed heavily upon you, urging you to confront the truth that had been swirling in your mind. "Did you know people shipped us?" you blurted out, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

He shrugged nonchalantly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he masked it with a casual indifference. But you knew better. You could see the subtle tension in the set of his jaw, the guardedness in his expression. He had known—had felt the weight of those speculative gazes just as keenly as you had. "I guess so," he replied with a noncommittal shrug, his tone carefully neutral. "Why?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, and you found yourself grappling with the sudden urge to lay bare your heart before him, to confess the depth of your feelings and the tumultuous journey of self-discovery that had led you to this moment. But as you met his gaze, the uncertainty that clouded your mind held you back, leaving the words trapped on the tip of your tongue, unspoken yet pulsing with a fervency that threatened to consume you.

Without a word, he took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking until you could feel the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

In that charged moment, with the weight of unspoken words pressing down upon you, you felt something shift within you—a primal urge to seize the moment, to bridge the gap between friendship and something more. And so, fueled by the fire of your newfound realisation and the palpable tension that hung between you, you closed the whole distance between you in a single, daring move.

With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, the warmth of his skin electrifying against your touch. And then, with a surge of courage that bordered on reckless abandon, you pressed your lips to his, the kiss a declaration of desire and longing that transcended words.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sweetness of the moment, the taste of him searing itself into your memory with every brush of his lips against yours. And in that fleeting instant, as the world fell away around you, you knew with a certainty that resonated deep within your soul: this was where you were meant to be.

As you pulled back, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you met his gaze with a newfound sense of clarity and certainty. And in the quiet understanding that passed between you, there was no need for words—just the simple, unspoken acknowledgment of the bond that had always been there, waiting to be embraced.

With a soft laugh and a tender squeeze of his hand, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, hearts entwined in a love that was as simple as it was profound. And as you leaned in to rest your head against his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement for the journey that lay ahead—a journey that promised to be filled with laughter, love, and countless moments of simple, unadulterated joy.

El fin.

this is the best thing i have ever written in my many years of life. thank you me.

[sirxaibs]

Veritas Ratio HSR X Reader

“Stubborn, Stubborn, Stubborn.”

masterlist

You’re apart of the crew and an aspiring scientist. Though focusing in the forensics field to help out on missions.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. You hunched over a cluttered desk inside Herta’s Space Station, scribbling notes that looked more like deciphered codes than legible science. The quiet hum of machinery served as a backdrop to your forced concentration, punctuated every so often by the sharp scratch of a pen.

Dr. Veritas Ratio sat a few feet away, posture rigid, eyes sharp beneath a veil of bangs, hand flying across the pages of his own leather bound book like a man possessed.

This wasn’t what you imagined when you signed up to “shadow the renowned Dr. Ratio for advanced forensic learning.” You wanted to expand your skills, help the crew better on field missions because for some god forsaken reason, every time you stepped foot on a new planet, you were the one knee deep in clues, bodies, and mysteries no one asked for. It only made sense to sharpen your mind where it counted. days in and Dr. Ratio had barely acknowledged you unless he was critiquing your logic like a middle school science project.

Still, you tried again.

“So,” you started, voice casual, “when you said the neural pathways respond to stimulation, were you implying synaptic frequency increases even without cognitive awareness, or?”

“I was referring,” he interrupted at lightning speed, “to the involuntary oscillation of signal transmissions under external influence, something any second year biologist could tell you. Your phrasing was inaccurate, misleading, and honestly bordering on theoretical idiocy.”

You blinked, stunned into silence not because you were offended, but because his words were fired off like bullets from a gatling gun. You couldn’t even keep up enough to be offended. Still, you smiled, brows raised. “Right… of course. That’s what I meant. Totally.”

He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge the sarcasm. Just kept writing. You sighed, staring at your notes and trying to find the motivation to continue copying something down about tissue decomposition in altered gravity conditions. But your thoughts were elsewhere specifically: “The brain is a muscle, my ass,” you thought bitterly. “This man is a stick in the mud.”

You tried once more, adjusting your chair just enough to glance at him. “Hey, uh… Ratio?” He didn’t stop writing. “I just wanted to let you know it’s my last day here. The Express is taking off tonight.”

He paused. Pen hovered in midair. For the first time in hours, he turned to look at you. “Then I suppose this is farewell,” he said evenly. “Any mind still desperate to learn more is worth a modicum of effort.” You blinked. That actually sounded… almost like a compliment? “But you remain, unfortunately, idiotic.”

There it was.

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped. “Thanks, I’ll take that as the most affectionate thing you’ve said all week.”

“There is no affection in scientific discourse,” he replied, already back to his book.

You exhaled hard through your nose. There’s no pleasing this man. Still, you gathered your things, slung your bag over your shoulder, and gave him a nod. “Appreciate the time. Really. Maybe next time, I’ll come back knowing enough to offend you less.”

Ratio didn’t look up. “Unlikely, but your optimism is statistically entertaining.”

You paused at the door and gave one last look over your shoulder. No goodbye. Just the steady scratch of pen on paper. Annoying. Insufferable. Condescending. You had plenty of normal conversations with Ruan Mei, Screwllum, even Herta who could be a little unhinged but at least talked like a human being. you couldn’t say you didn’t learn something. Even if you wanted to shove him into a simulation chamber and press “random.”

Sighing, you stepped out of the lab, muttering to yourself, “The man needs a personality transplant. Or at least a nap.” Time to go back to the Astral Express. Hopefully, without being called an idiot in five different academic dialects.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Dr. Veritas Ratio stood alone in the silence of Herta’s Space Station lab, the ambient hum of machinery now a mere background to his thoughts. The room still carried the faint trace of your presence a slightly skewed chair, a half empty data pad left untouched, a worn notebook you used with mismatched doodles and scientific scribbles alike. He stared at the door for longer than he intended after you had left.

“Hmph.” His voice echoed softly in the quiet room, as if irritated by his own lingering stillness.

With a sharp breath, he returned to his seat, flipping open the leather bound journal he had been writing in not his own research logs, but something far more… unwieldy.

A chronicle. An account. An observation. You. You, the girl who barged into his space several days ago claiming she was eager to “learn more about forensics” so she could stop playing amateur detective across the galaxy like some kind of self declared interstellar sleuth. The girl who stood there in front of him bright eyed, annoyingly persistent, armed with nothing but a notepad and a smile that dared him to reject her.

He should have said no. Really. He meant to.

Entry One:

She is insufferably stubborn.

From the moment she entered, she challenged my authority not with words, but with that relentless, aggravating optimism. It’s like trying to teach science to a golden retriever that insists on wagging its tail every time it gets a basic equation right.

She surrounds herself with the imbecile crew of the Astral Express each of them so charmingly flawed that one would need earplugs just to survive a conversation. She listens. She stares at equations like a brain dead dog. if puzzles are worth solving, and when she gets them wrong…

Ratio’s pen slowed for a second.

Entry Three:

I threw a book at her.

She botched a rudimentary breakdown of spatial decay honestly, I still don’t understand how someone confuses atomic diffusion rates with heat based deconstruction and I threw a book at her.

He tapped the end of the pen to the page.

She didn’t cry. Didn’t storm out. She laughed. Actually laughed. Rubbed the back of her head and said, “Should’ve known you’d have better aim than that,” before flipping back to her notes and reworking the entire equation.

Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn.

He underlined the word twice.

Entry Five:

She got something right today.

Not just right. Brilliant, actually. She identified a miscalculation in a gravitational bleed pattern I hadn’t even caught yet. I told her it was “adequate.” She beamed like I’d handed her a Nobel Prize.

Ratio exhaled slowly at the memory. There had been more moments like that. More times than he cared to admit where he’d look at her work and see genuine understanding growing like a slow, tenacious weed through cracked pavement.

She was undisciplined. A jumbled mess of deduction and instinct. But she was learning.

He flipped to the last few pages in the book, where neat bullet points were written in his precise hand. Not for himself. For her.

• You need to stop jumping to conclusions without sufficient data.

• Emotion clouds deduction. Maintain detachment until evidence is confirmed.

• Your spatial awareness is strong. Consider pursuing work in trajectory and motion based forensics.

• Your memory recall, while clumsy, is oddly adaptive. You seem to remember patterns more than facts use that.

• Stop doodling in the margins.

And then, written softer, smaller, like it embarrassed him:

• You are better than you think. Just… be better still.

He hadn’t meant to go into so much detail. It was just supposed to be notes. Brief, simple. A few guiding remarks she could use once she returned to playing Sherlock on alien planets. But the longer he spent around her, the more the book filled. He would’ve given it to her. That was the plan. Hand it off as a cold farewell and return to his own work, alone, uninterrupted.

But when she said she was leaving, a strange ache settled in his chest. He had closed the book instead. He told her she was idiotic. That was easier than saying anything else. He wasn’t built for sentiment.

But now, in the sterile quiet of the lab, he opened the book again and stared at the last empty page. His pen hovered for a moment before he wrote:

You were the most tolerable nuisance I’ve encountered.

He closed the book. Folded his arms. And sat there, in silence. Holding the only piece of you he could.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. The Astral Express had settled into its familiar rhythm a quiet lull between the catastrophe that just occurred. You sat in your room, sprawled on your back atop your bed, legs dangling off the side as a small packet of data chips and half doodled notes littered the floor beneath you. The lighting was dim, and soft music played in the background something March had been trying to get everyone into. Bubblegum pop something or other. You didn’t mind it.

Then, your terminal lit up with an incoming call.

Caller ID: Dr. Veritas Ratio

You blinked. Seriously? The last time you’d heard from Ratio was months ago, back when you’d finished your “training” with him at Herta’s Space Station. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t sent a single follow up. Hell, you figured he forgot you existed. Which was fine. He’d called you idiotic more times than you could count. You got the message.

So why the sudden contact? You leaned over, smacked the “Answer” button with your palm, and sat back again, letting the hologram flicker to life. The familiar sight of Ratio appeared sharply dressed, arms crossed, and already mid glare.

“Have all of you completely lost your minds?” he barked.

“Wow, no hello? You’ve really softened over the months,” you drawled, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a long yawn.

Ratio ignored the comment. “You brought it on board. A Stellaron. A living, breathing, ticking time bomb and you you let them install it into the crew roster like it’s a decorative lamp!”

“Not me,” you replied casually. “That was Himeko and Welt’s call. I was too busy teaching March how to tell the difference between a footprint and a crater.”

He leaned closer into the hologram, voice sharp as shattered glass. “And you didn’t stop them?”

You tilted your head, gaze flat. “Ratio, I’ve learned many things in my life. One of which is: you do not argue with Himeko unless you want to be questioning your own sexuality.”

“This is reckless. Irresponsible. Foolhardy. Welt Yang used to be logical.”

“He still is,” you said, picking at a thread in your blanket. “Realistically, this was the safest option.”

“Oh?” Ratio lifted a brow, sarcasm soaking every syllable. “Yes, why not keep the volatile Stellaron host onboard the most advanced dimensional train known to man? Surely the best place for a cosmic disaster seed is inside the space equivalent of a floating museum.”

“See? You do have a heart,” you said, smiling slightly. “You’re worried about us.”

“I’m worried about the structural integrity of your ship, and the illogical stupidity of a crew that includes people like well, like you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Ratio scowled. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

You rolled onto your side, cheek pressed to your pillow, gaze on the projection of his furious form pacing like a scientist on the edge of an aneurysm. “No, I am. I just also live on a train that is fully capable of going against the Antimatter Legion, hunted by robots, and now has an amnesiac walking stellar bomb with a winning smile and a personality March immediately adopted like a stray puppy. You’ll excuse me if I conserve my panic energy.”

Ratio paused, folding his arms. “You’ve grown bolder.”

“You called me idiotic for a week straight. I had to evolve or die.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly so softly you barely caught it he muttered

You blinked, eyebrows lifting. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Still. You would be wise to proceed with caution. The Stellaron may not act today or tomorrow, but entropy is inevitable. One misstep, and it could unravel every layer of existence you so casually nap on.”

You smiled lazily. “I missed your bedtime stories.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You called me.”

Ratio paused. For a flicker of a second, his expression shifted barely visible, like a crack in marble. Thoughtful. Frustrated. Maybe even… hesitant. “you have a brain. And I don’t like seeing it wasted.” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “You’re tolerable when you’re being cautious.”

“And you’re tolerable when you’re not actively trying to kill me with a migraine.”

The hologram began to glitch slightly signal fading as the Express entered another sector.

Ratio’s voice cut through one last time before the line ended: “Just don’t get comfortable. You may not always have time to brace for the explosion.”

Then the screen blinked to black. You sat there, the weight of his words hanging in the room like smoke.

“…Still didn’t say goodbye,” you murmured, grabbing your tea and taking a slow sip. You weren’t worried.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Herta’s Space Station was bustling with its usual polite chaos researchers skittering around with datapads too big for their hands, drones zipping above heads, experiments sparking in sealed chambers. The scent of metal and burnt circuitry lingered faintly in the air. A strangely nostalgic aroma, really.

You had come here for one reason and one reason only: to visit Screwllum. The robotic genius had promised to show you a new forensic simulation model, one that could track theoretical blood spatter in zero gravity. You were deeply interested, and by “deeply interested,” you meant giddy like a child with a crime scene coloring book.

You weren’t expecting to see him. Not as you rounded the corner of the central archive, passing Herta’s projection arguing with itself, and almost bumped headfirst into a tall figure already ranting at a researcher over some miscalculation involving quantum probability flow.

“Dr. Ratio,” you breathed, blinking once.

He turned toward you slowly. You immediately put your hands over your mouth, gasped dramatically, and staggered back a step. If he gets to ghost you, why cant you have fun yourself?

“Veritas? Is it really you?” you cried, voice shaking like a widow in a play. “The universe said you were lost to the abyss of academia, never to be seen again! I we I waited so long!”

Ratio stared at you, expression unreadable but very much unimpressed. “You’re being absurd.”

“Absurdly in love,” you swooned, grabbing his arm with faux desperation. “I swore I’d wait, no matter how long the stars turned. You you arrogant bastard you came back.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” he replied flatly. “Ill have you know that if you even tried i would’ve answered. You were simply too busy pretending to be a detective on every rock you stumbled across.”

“not one letter. Not one call. Do you have any idea how I’ve suffered? Ive missed my stuck up asshole of a husband”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were messaging Screwllum memes less than twelve hours ago.”

You blinked. “Screwllum loves my memes. Don’t derail me trying to make you look like a bad husband.”

“I should’ve let you fail the entropy unit,” he muttered, brushing your hands off like you were a particularly annoying layer of dust.

You laughed, arms crossing over your chest. “Still as insufferable as ever, Ratio. You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

Ratio returned to his datapad. “If by ‘welcome’ you mean ‘tolerated,’ then yes. I remain consistent.”

There was a beat of silence. The usual static hum of the station pulsed around you. You tilted your head slightly, observing him not just as a former mentor or your favorite verbal sparring partner, but as someone you honestly missed.

You stepped a little closer, voice dropping. “Hey… could we catch up a bit?”

He paused. His fingers hovered over the datapad. Just for a second. Then, slowly, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“why”

You smiled. “Ok big guy is asking the questions, I suppose I just want to see how you’re doing.”

Ratio’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “I suppose… some minds are worth the occasional recalibration.”

“Is that your way of saying ‘yes’?”

“It’s my way of saying you’re still stubborn and prone to foolishness but slightly less irritating than most of the imbeciles I suffer daily.”

You beamed. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ratio glanced away, resuming his work. “Don’t get sentimental.”

But you saw the way his posture shifted less tense, a fraction more open.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Ratio’s quarters were exactly what you expected and somehow even more Ratio than you thought possible.

Minimalist, sterile, everything arranged with sharp symmetry almost clinical, like the man had tried to recreate a science lab in the shape of a bedroom. The lighting was dim, a soft overhead hue that neither strained the eyes nor dared to be comforting. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, but not a single one looked even slightly out of place. His desk had no dust, no loose wires, no snacks just data pads, models, papers arranged in brutal harmony. despite all the perfect order, there was something kind of… homey about it. Or maybe you were just losing your mind. Probably the latter.

“I’ll return shortly,” he said earlier, stepping out with a brief mention of fetching something from Screwllum or threatening Herta’s projection into silence you weren’t sure which. His voice was already vanishing down the hall as you nodded absently, too curious about seeing this inner sanctum of his to stop him.

Which is how you ended up alone in the room and your eyes landed on the book. You hadn’t seen it since your time as his reluctant partner slash student slash mental punching bag. Leather bound, its corners slightly worn, it sat there on the desk like it had been placed just for you to find it. An artifact of a past so recent it still itched under your skin. You told yourself to leave it alone. You didn’t. Fingers brushed the cover. You opened it.

The first few pages were filled with sharp, scathing commentary written in Ratio’s precise, aggressively legible handwriting. Your early days of working together where you barely kept up and made mistakes that, according to him, “required divine intervention to unsee.” You scoffed, flipping forward.

There were notes, not just about your blunders, but about what you’d done right. Diagrams you’d drawn that he’d annotated, not with insults, but improvement suggestions. Questions you’d asked that he’d praised though usually in the most begrudging tone imaginable.

You flipped further. Dates from after your training had ended appeared.

She let that walking disaster <Stelle> on board. Of course she did. Her loyalty to the crew is stronger than her self preservation. Idiotic.

…Though, if she’s the one monitoring it, perhaps there’s hope it won’t implode immediately.

Your brows lifted. Another entry, this time sloppier, less rigid:

Saw her solve a multi layer deduction test from Ruan Mei’s simulation. Beat the projection time by five minutes. Either she’s improving rapidly… or cheating. I doubt the latter. Annoying. Impressive.

And then:

You were the most tolerable nuisance I’ve encountered.

You stared at that line for a long time, blinking. Your heart gave the smallest traitorous flutter. Ratio? Writing that down? In his own personal notes? Voluntarily?

“Veritas Veritas Veritas,” you whispered, amused, letting the book rest gently on the desk again, “you’re so down bad and you don’t even know it.”

You glanced around the room with new eyes now. Not just a workspace. There were signs of you scattered in the margins things you’d said that he’d scribbled down verbatim, questions you’d asked, observations you’d made. There, in this sterile haven of knowledge, you existed. When the door slid open again with that same low mechanical hiss, you didn’t turn immediately. You kept your hands at your sides, innocent, as Ratio entered holding a datapad and a cup of something that definitely wasn’t coffee.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You moved things,” he said bluntly.

You turned, grinning. “I breathed in here. Hope that’s not too much.”

Ratio’s eyes zeroed in on the open book like a hawk spotting a wounded animal. The datapad in his hand made a dull thud as he dropped it to the desk beside you.

“You read it,” he said, voice low, clipped. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact delivered like an accusation.

You opened your mouth, but he was already moving, closing the book in one motion that was more violent than necessary. His eyes flicked to you, sharp with something between irritation and disbelief. “That book was for me. My documentation. My evaluations. Not for you to comb through like some sentimental schoolgirl with a crush.”

You just raised your hands a little in mock surrender. “Okay, first of all ow. Second, maybe don’t leave emotionally repressed love letters in plain sight if you don’t want them read.”

His scowl deepened. “You are not the center of my notes. You were a case study in irritating persistence.”

You smiled. “A tolerable nuisance, if I remember correctly.”

“I regret ever writing that.”

“You do not.”

Ratio looked like he was about to snap again, but your tone shifted before he could. A little more sincere this time. Less teasing.

“Look, before you combust into quantum dust or something, I’ve been doing the same thing. Kind of.”

That made him blink. His arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched.

You shrugged. “Whenever there was news. Whenever Screwllum or Herta mentioned something cool you did. Whenever you published something with Ruan Mei. I’d log it in a little virtual journal. Notes, quotes, observations. Even drew a diagram of your frustrated face once. It was very detailed.”

“You tracked my activity?” His voice was dry with disbelief.

“Kept tabs,” you corrected. “I mean, you did teach me how to observe patterns and record data. I thought it’d be fun to apply it to you.”

Ratio stared at you. Hard.

You grinned again, stepping closer now, just into his space, enough to make him instinctively stiffen. “So, if you like me so much, Veritas…” you tilted your head, voice dipping into a teasing lilt, “it doesn’t have to stay theoretical.”

The room went dead silent. Ratio’s eye twitched.

“I do not like you.”

You leaned back with a smug hum, hands slipping behind your back. “Sure. That’s why you wrote, ‘perhaps there’s hope it won’t implode immediately.’ About me and the crew.”

“That was in reference to the logistical risk of hosting a walking bomb, not an emotional attac—”

“You said impressive, Ratio.”

“I said annoying right before.”

You shrugged. “And still impressive.”

Ratio turned away from you, muttering curses under his breath in a tone too quiet to catch. But he didn’t tell you to leave. Didn’t shove you out or erase his notes or block access to his quarters. Instead, he sat, flipped open a new file on his datapad, and typed exactly three words

Emotional interference: persistent.

You laughed as you settled in across from him.

“Glad I’m still in your data set.”

[ao3-quente]

MERIADOC AND THE HORN OF EORL

JRRT has a tendency to give the most amazing payoff to the tiniest of things. I'd talk about Ëarendil and the light from the Silmarils that helped Frodo and Sam get past the watchers at Cirith Ungol, but many have written about this particular discourse.

Instead, I give you: Merry and horns.

1

Here's JRRT's set up:

Merry is feeling alone and useless in the middle of great events. He learns that Minas Tirith is surrounded by foes. Pippin is in Minas Tirith! Merry thinks to himself:

Merry wished he was a tall Rider like Éomer and could blow a horn or something and go galloping to his rescue.

2

Reinforcing the idea of horns blowing, and people coming to the rescue:

At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before:

Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains.

Later

But Pippin rose to his feet, as if a great weight had been lifted from him; and he stood listening to the horns, and it seemed to him that they would break his heart with joy. And never in after years could he hear a horn blown in the distance without tears starting in his eyes.

3

Merry mourns the fallen and thinks back to the battle where he won renown but lost Theoden his friend:

[T]he horn of Helm was loud in the mountains, until the Darkness came and King Théoden arose and rode through the Shadow to the fire, and died in splendour, even as the Sun, returning beyond hope, gleamed upon Mindolluin in the morning.

Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing. Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended; over death, over dread, over doom lifted out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.

But Merry stood at the foot of the green mound, and he wept, and when the song was ended he arose and cried:

‘Théoden King, Théoden King! Farewell! As a father you were to me, for a little while. Farewell!’

4

Éomer and Éowyn give Merry the horn of Eorl the Young, who importantly helped save Gondor the first time around.

'My sister begs you to receive this small thing, as a memorial of Dernhelm and of the horns of the Mark at the coming of the morning.’

Then Éowyn gave to Merry an ancient horn, small but cunningly wrought all of fair silver with a baldric of green; and wrights had engraven upon it swift horsemen riding in a line that wound about it from the tip to the mouth; and there were set runes of great virtue.

‘This is an heirloom of our house,’ said Éowyn. ‘It was made by the Dwarves, and came from the hoard of Scatha the Worm. Eorl the Young brought it from the North. He that blows it at need shall set fear in the hearts of his enemies and joy in the hearts of his friends, and they shall hear him and come to him.’

Then Merry took the horn, for it could not be refused, and he kissed Éowyn's hand; and they embraced him, and so they parted for that time.

5

MERRY BECOMES THE GREAT WARRIOR BLOWING A HORN AND RIDING TO THE RESCUE OF THE ENTIRE SHIRE.

‘Raise the Shire!’ said Merry. ‘Now! Wake all our people! They hate all this, you can see: all of them except perhaps one or two rascals, and a few fools that want to be important, but don't at all understand what is really going on. But Shire-folk have been so comfortable so long they don't know what to do. They just want a match, though, and they'll go up in fire. The Chief's Men must know that. They'll try to stamp on us and put us out quick. We've only got a very short time.

They rode back to the middle of the village. There Sam turned aside and galloped off down the lane that led south to Cotton's. He had not gone far when he heard a sudden clear horn-call go up ringing into the sky. Far over hill and field it echoed; and so compelling was that call that Sam himself almost turned and dashed back. His pony reared and neighed.

‘On, lad! On!’ he cried. ‘We'll be going back soon.’

Then he heard Merry change the note, and up went the Horn-cry of Buckland, shaking the air.

Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire, Foes! Awake! Fire, Foes! Awake!

~

Merry blew a horn-call after them as they rode off into the gathering night. The people cheered.

~

Merry blew a loud horn-call, and there were answering calls from a distance.

‘They won't get far,’ said Pippin. ‘All that country is alive with our hunters now.’

~

Ted gaped, for at that moment he first caught sight of the escort that at a sign from Merry now marched over the bridge. Dashing back into the mill he ran out with a horn and blew it loudly.

‘Save your breath!’ laughed Merry. ‘I've a better.’ Then lifting up his silver horn he winded it, and its clear call rang over the Hill; and out of the holes and sheds and shabby houses of Hobbiton the hobbits answered, and came pouring out, and with cheers and loud cries they followed the company up the road to Bag End.

6

And that is why I fucking love Lord of the Rings.