#creator who is just simply burned out

[ast3ri]

"FFXIV is dying" says people who do all the latest content on patch day, min max casual content to finish them day 1, and wont do older content they havent even touched at all what-so-ever.

"The new relics are so boring" says the people who complained very loudly about the grind of Bozja, cant be bothered to level crafters to do crafting relics, ect.

I dunno man, maybe you're just burnt out because you're trying too hard, or mad the dev team is listening to you. just a thought.

[vorestarr]

ascended astarion and vampire spouses

so I've been reading the dnd 2e manual "Van Richten's Guide to Vampires" for fic/game inspiration, and there's this really interesting chapter on vampire brides and grooms. after reading it, it's very clear to me that Astarion didn't turn Tav into a typical spawn, but into a vampire spouse, which are two very different rituals with very different outcomes.

the typical vampire spawn creation process is exactly what Astarion describes happening to him: a painful death, a painful rebirth into undeath, fighting his way out of his own coffin, and Cazador's complete control over him. this is described pretty clearly in the guide to vampires:

According to most related tales, a vampire can create another simply by killing a mortal either with its life-energy draining power (draining all the character's experience leveIs) or by exhausting the mortal of his or her blood supply. If the victim's body is not properly destroyed, it arises as a vampire, under the control of the creature who killed it, on the second night following the burial. [...] Most vampires remember the instant of their death and the nature of their killer, and understand immediately their new nature. Certainly their new hunger gives them a good idea of what they have become. They must immediately free themselves from their grave. either by breaking it open from within or by assuming gaseous form and diffusing out.

so that's definitely what happened to Astarion, but that's not what happens to Tav. after ascended Astarion turns Tav into a vampire, they can ask him what happened, and he describes the following:

Astarion: You are so beautiful... And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you for trusting me. Player: What exactly happened? Astarion: You were drained dry, and at the height of your delirium, I granted you one drop of my own blood. Things will be a touch different for you than they were for me when I was a spawn. I'm imbibed with unfathomable new talents. I am fairly certain I can extend Mephistopheles' blessings unto you. Player: Does that mean I need not fear the sun? Astarion: You need not fear anything. You will be stronger, swifter, sharper, but you won't be different. You were already perfect before. It's hard to improve.

for reference, this is how the guide to vampires describes the ritual for vampire spouses:

To actually create the bride, the vampire bestows what is known as the "Dark Kiss". lt samples the blood of its mortal paramour—once, twice, thrice—draining her almost to the point of death. This process causes the subject no pain; in fact, it has been described as the most euphoric, ecstatic experience, in comparison to which all ether pleasures fade into insignificance. Just as the subject is about to slip into the terminal coma from which there is no awakening, the vampire opens a gash in its own flesh—often in its throat—and holds the subject's mouth to the wound, As the burning draught that is the vampire’s blood gushes into the subject's mouth, the primitive feeding instinct is triggered, and she sucks hungrily at the wound, enraptured. With the first taste of the blood, the subject is possessed of great and frenzied strength (Str 18, if the character’s Str isn't already higher), and will use it to prevent the vampire from separating her from the fountain of wonder that is its bleeding wound. lt is at this point that the creator-vampire's strength is most sorely tested. He is weakened by his own blood loss, and also by his own rapture as the "victim" of a dark kiss. Overcoming the sudden loss of strength and the inclinations of lust, the vampire must pull her away from its own throat, hopefully without harming her, before she has overfed. Should the subject be allowed to feed for too long (more than 2 rounds), she is driven totally and incurably insane, and will die in agony within 24 hours. Once the subject has stopped feeding, she falls into a coma that lasts minutes or hours (2dl2 turns), at the end of which time she dies. Several (1 d3) hours later, she arises as a Fledgling vampire—and her creator's bride.

this to me sounds like what Astarion describes. he drains Tav almost dry, and at the very last moment, gives them a single drop of his blood. (also interesting reading this guide, the single drop avoids the problem of the vampire spouse being driven ravenous with hunger for the vampire creator's blood and attacking them. did Astarion know this and give them one drop on purpose to avoid that and Tav potentially being driven mad by it? or was he being selfish and this is just a nice but unanticipated outcome?)

i kept reading and there's a lot more interesting information about vampire spouses, but the most interesting thing I found related to the game was this:

Although there are some folk tales that describe the bride of a vampire as its slave, in much the same way that offspring are slaves, a bride is free-willed from the moment of her creation. The creator vampire does have great influence over the bride. however although this control is totally nonmagical. When a vampire is created in the traditional manner—that is, when a victim's life energy is completely drained away—the new fledgling instinctively understands much about the vampiric way of unlife, and about its own strengths, weaknesses* and needs. Not so the bride.

so basically, the vampire spouse is not tied to the vampire creator in the same way as a spawn (i.e., not able to be fully controlled) but is still extremely reliant on the vampire creator to teach them how to live as a vampire. the guide goes on to describe that some vampire creators may lie to their vampire spouse about the control or powers they have, in order to exert more control over them.

interestingly, if you ask Astarion if he can compel you the way Cazador compelled him, he doesn't give a straight answer, he just says this:

Player: Cazador could compel you - can you compel me? Astarion: Why would I need to? You're going to be wonderfully obedient.

to me, all of this says that Astarion was telling the truth when he told Tav that they would be different from him as a spawn, and also in emphasizing that they are not a spawn but a consort. he didn't create a spawn, he created a vampire spouse. he married Tav, and because of this Tav also retains their free will.

of course, Astarion doesn't say this. if he knows, he withholds this information in much the way that this guide describes, as a way for the creator to maintain more control over their spouse. but still, extremely interesting implications for the ascended Astarion romance, imo.

other interesting facts about vampire spouses from the guide to vampires:

the married couple has telepathic communication that can span miles -- so Tav and Astarion can potentially have a telepathic bond even after the tadpoles are gone. (another note, this communication has to be consensual both ways for it to work, so you can't just dig around someone's mind if they don't want it.)

the vampire creator is extremely jealous and possessive. (yeah lol)

their life forces are linked, so one suffering a great deal is felt by the other.

the bond can be broken, but the ritual to do so has to be initiated by the creator. to break it, they both spill their blood on the ground and allow it to mix. this dissolves all aspects of the bond (i.e., telepathy and linked life forces), but the spouse stays a vampire.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

OMG HII I'M A NEW FOLLOWER AND I LOVE YOUR WORK!! May I please ask for HCs or a one shot of Ghost with his s/o being self conscious/ashamed (YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN LOL) about squirting so much that he AND the bed got soaked?? THANK YOU SO MUCH MANY KISSIES MUAH 💋💖

Ghost & König w/ an S/O who is Self Conscious about Squirting a Lot

Warnings: 18+, Sexual Content, Heavy Implications of Smut, Squirting, Insecurity, Embarrassment, Dom Ghost, Dom König, Unprotected Sex, Profanity, etc.

Ghost:

First time it happened, Ghost couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

He just stared down at where his hand connected with your cunt, your cum spattered across his arm, reaching all the way up to his elbow.

The sheets below you were covered, too, a heavy downpour of your juices coating them, soaking them.

“Fuckin’ Hell,” Ghost rasped, licking his lips.

You lay wide-eyed and stationery beneath him, chest heaving with the coat tails of your orgasm.

You’d never done that before.

And the fact that Ghost only looked upon you with a heavy gaze did nothing to soothe your nerves - did nothing to reassure you that what had just happened was normal. Or appreciated.

Sweat-skinned and face flushed with embarrassment, you tried to withdraw, to cover yourself and hide from Ghost’s dark eyes.

They were unreadable. Void of anything discernable.

Before you could pull the soaked bed sheets over you, Simon’s hand tore it from yours.

“Oh no, Princess,” he said. The corners of his lips turned up, not a smile, but one of its off-colour variants, one that spelled devious.

“I’m not lettin’ you go until you’ve covered me.”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head, face burning. You tried to object.

“You…you don’t think it’s weird?” you said, testing. Receding. “I-I don’t think I can do it again–”

“Let me put it this way,” Ghost began. He pumped his fingers into you, four strong, making you squeal, sensitive from your orgasm. He began unbuckling his belt with his other hand.

“We’re not stopping ‘til you do.”

König:

König didn’t stop pummeling into you until you’d finished.

And, upon doing so, your orgasm tearing through you, you ended up spraying.

Hard.

König felt your warm cum shoot against his abdomen, coating him in a thin layer of you.

You noticed, but your mind was far too hazy with the after effects of your high to register it properly.

König finished inside you shortly after, unable to contain himself any longer.

He flooded you, painting your insides white, much how you’d painted him.

Minutes passed, your conjoined, deep breathing filling the silence.

Head somewhat clearer, giving way to distinguishable thoughts, you looked down at König.

He was, simply put, wet.

Not damp, not moist - wet.

And then, the memory hit you.

Your heart sank.

“König…?” you said, voice meek. You watched his chest and shoulders heave, with him bent over you like a bridge, eyes screwed shut.

You went to call his name again, but his lips on yours stopped you.

Between laboured breaths, he muttered dark words into your skin as if they were incantations.

“Why did you hide this from me?” he said, breathless.

You blinked, confused.

“Wha–”

“You thought you could keep this little trick of yours a secret from me.”

He said it as if it were true. The actual truth was that you’d never done that before; not with König, not with anyone.

“I should punish you,” he said, retracting only to roll his hips against yours.

You gasped, a shock of painful euphoria tightening inside you.

“I can make you do it again,” he said. There was no mercy in his eyes. No negotiation. 

“And I will.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[oksana-moods]

All Too Well

Summary: Natasha tried to mend what's left broken. Because no matter what, she's the love of your life and she knows all too well.

A/N: It's been forever. This 5k piece felt like I was writing 300k, it was difficult, funny, hard and I miss doing this more often. I hope you guys like it and please, it be amazing for me to know your thoughts about it.

You can read it as One Too Many part 2 or as a single piece, it is up to you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, mentions of death, alcohol, angst (you know how I am, I can't simply write people kissing without suffering before).

"Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place"

The gun pointing at your face barely meters away should be intimidating, but at this point no one would blame you for not caring anymore. And you didn’t even mean the last couple of days, no, your whole life had been a fight, a struggle, an act of survival after another, so the last few days were nothing but the same blur.

The gunpower inundated your nostrils and the pungent smell masqueraded the smell of blood that clung to your brain and you were sure you wouldn’t erase it even if you got out of your current establishment.

Your heightened senses were capable of decerning all the different blood samples available in your cell: yours and from other occupants that came before you, or the blood that belonged to some of your kidnappers, who’ve learned in the worst possible way that you were not to be underestimated.

Back to the gun, the man behind it kept enchanting the same questions and you wondered how long it would take for them to get tired of your silence or mock replies. A sharp pain in the back of your head made you look up to meet his eyes, another man behind you was forcefully pulling your hair down to force your head up and you were already tired of him doing this.

“Where are the others?” The man with the gun asked, patience waning thin. Good to know you were on the same page. “Where is Romanoff?”

A blooded grin made its way to your face after you spat on his shoe. “It’s funny you think I’ll tell you now after all you’ve put me through. Do you think I’m afraid of your bullet?” And you didn’t even mean the fact that you probably wouldn’t die if he decided to shoot anywhere else other than your head, but you did mean that you were not afraid of dying.

Actually, you were so tired that perhaps laying down cold wouldn’t be unwelcomed. There wouldn’t be any pain, your body wouldn’t try to heal only to get hurt again. You thought it would be refreshing.

Two steps and the man pressed the gun over your knee, and you already knew, his wicked grin grew wider when your body convulsed with pain even though you concealed your scream in muffled grunts by biting your lips so tide you tasted your own blood, again.

“Why don’t you make it easier for you? You tell me what I’ve asked, and I kill you fast.” He pulled a chair and got comfortable for he knew all too well you wouldn’t budge easy. “I promise you. One silver bullet in your temple. Fast. Easy.”

Your eyes flashed to his. Silver bullets were really affective against your healing skills and very few possessed this knowledge. Someone must’ve tipped him off and the idea stung way much more than the powder burning the flesh inside your knee.

Only two women knew your weakness. Well, your creators knew, of course, but they were not in condition of speaking anymore. Unless someone from this organization was capable of going to hell to have a chat and then return to the living world with this intel.

Your love for Yelena was something so natural and it grew so fast for she was just deranged as you were: uncapable of functioning as what people labeled as normal. You were kindred souls and you felt like you were twins separated somewhere along the road and considering both of your past, who actually knew?

After long nights during long missions, you confided in her this. You were scared of losing control because sometimes the beast inside you took over and your brain couldn’t always sway the instincts. So you handed her one silver bullet in case things went south, she was adamant in returning it to you but you asked her to keep it, for insurance.

And the other person was Natasha. You never knew how she learned this but when she recruited you many, many years ago she already knew. If the pain in your leg wasn’t so overwhelming, you could’ve laughed at the memory engulfing your mind’s eye.

Her tide catsuit adorned with nothing but her black widow symbol, swaying her hips and pretending she wasn’t scared of the woman seated in front of her. You remember how her fear smelled, a stark contrast to her pose. You recall her words, her smile, her flirtatious play all to convince you to use your skills to her so called greater good.

And before leaving, she boldly closed the distance between you and placed a silver bullet in your hand. You understood the message. You weren’t stupid. Later she sworn that she was the only one, at S.H.I.E.L.D. or within Avengers, to know your weakness and you believed her.

And this belief comes back to bite you in the ass.

Because you knew full well that Yelena would die, she would kill herself even, before telling someone your secret. But Natasha? You didn’t trust her anymore. She had done it before, and you knew it all too well. If you were to be honest, after one too many treasons, you didn’t care about another.

Or so you told yourself.

“Good luck.” You rasped out after a long time inside your own head.

The man tilted his head to the side and smiled that smile that told you he already knew what you would say. You would go further and say he was eager for it. “I think in the torture manual says I should tell you that I don’t enjoy this, but I’d be lying. We actually bet how long it will take for you to drop the act and start screaming.”

You bet no one thought it would be that fast. He stumped a knife down your thigh so fast and so hard you saw stars. You could feel the silver poisoning the skin and muscle where it was nested, and it burned like nothing else would.

Unfortunately for them, the apex in you was not used to be a prey and this injury was powerful enough to make your survival instincts kick in. It happened so fast it was a haze, one minute he was laughing, the other he was on the ground - lifeless, and just as the others came, they followed their leader – well, who you thought the leader was, at least.

Funnily, your countdown was wrong, or you were not the only one putting your captors down. As the blood ran free down your leg, your strength and capability of keeping fighting diminished. When a body collided with yours, it was a miracle you were still awake.

Her red hair framed her face perfectly, skin white as snow and her green orbs looked like there was an aurora borealis looking down at you as she nested you in her lap as you felt life slipping through your fingers - veins.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me.” Her voice was strange, as if speaking was a struggle and she reeked fear, but not the same you were used to, as if she was feeling a different type of fear, it was a strange concept, but you hated it, nonetheless. If these were your last moments breathing, you wanted her true smell. The one you knew all too well.

“Please, don’t you dare die. I’ve got you.” Her muffled words found your ear, but it was hard to even comprehend anything at all when her lips felt so cold in your forehead. “Heal. Why are you not healing?”

“Silver.” It was all you could say. It was all you had to say.

She frantically started yelling at someone, perhaps the comms, but before you could close your eyes for good, you saw a red blur and he was complaining about your weight.

Her giggle filled the room as the first sun lights announced the day had just begun, you looked at her alarmed, for it was definitely something new. “Are you mocking me?” Enable to conceal a smile yourself.

“I’m not.” She denied, but her laugh told you differently. Her freckles painted her angelical face and her eyes looked like they held the sun captive. And you. And she knew, all too well. “It’s just I can’t believe you still have this scar.”

Her index finger traced said scar as she looked at you expectantly, waiting for your explanation, even though she already knew.

“I didn’t know Wanda’s necklace was made of silver, okay.” You finally replied, pulling her close to you as if her weight meant nothing, right in that moment this action felt so normal, so homely that it ached. “I thought I could take it from that heated place for her, but it burned me as I did. It was silly.”

She giggled again, though muffled by your shoulder this time, there was something new in her eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “It was cute. Silly, but cute. That necklace belonged to her mother.”

“I know.” You were locked in her eyes, and she stared at you as if she was trying to reach your soul, then you felt her fingertip leaving the palm of your hand to intertwine your fingers as she let her eyes stray to look at both of your hands.

The feeling was overwhelming. You were aware of how fast your heart was beating, you could only hope she couldn’t feel or hear it, for in that moment, all you wanted was to engrave the sight of you, together, and you wish you could just have this forever. Have her forever.

“I’ve never felt this before.” Her brows were furrowed in a way that made you upset, but you wouldn’t let go of her hand for nothing in this world, even if it was to soothe the crinkles in her forehead. “I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, there was nothing that you could do but wait for your brain to register her words and meaning, for a whole minute you simply stared at her, trying to search for a catch or a joke but you found none. And she looked up at you so innocently that you found yourself believing in her.

“I thought-.” You tried, but she never let you finish your sentence.

“I know what I said.” She stopped you midsentence, but her voice was not stern, it was almost tired. “This is not what I feel anymore.” Again, her eyes found yours and the way they shone made your knees weak, luckily you were laying on her mattress.

Somehow, they conveyed so much of this feeling she had claimed she was not capable of nurturing that your stomach did somersaults. And right in that moment, you realized that perhaps silver could hurt you, but this woman was your true weakness.

Specially if she’s looking at you the way she was.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You whispered, it was terrifying saying again the three words that you were sure would make her fly away from this strange arrangement you found yourself in. Yet she didn’t.

“I know.” She confirmed after a while admiring your eyes as if she could read your mind. After deciding she was content with whatever she found, she leaned in and pecked your lips so tenderly it hurt.

Then, when she looked at you again you saw, from the small smirk growing in her lips, that she had gone back to play her prime character: the Black Widow.

“Let’s have a breakfast before the funeral, shall we?” As she got of the bad, you copied her movements going back to your own suitcase to find something comfortable as her voice broke the silence filling the room. “I never asked how you and Sharon became friends to the point you’d come to a funeral of her relative.”

The cleanliness of the room was the first thing you were aware of. In fact, you didn’t even realize you were awake, therefore alive, before the smell hit your nostrils. And with it, her scent.

The occasional up and down from her feet and bouncing leg was the only sound in the room except for the noise coming from the heart monitor over your head. She was anxious, that much was obvious even if you weren’t an enhanced being.

Mentally searching for your injuries and pain, you understood that whatever had happened with you, was all gone. Excluding the lingering pain in some specific places that you credited to silver induced wounds that would take way much more time to wear off.

However, considering the state you were in, whoever tended these wounds had operated a true miracle.

As you opened your eyes, you half expected bright lights, common to these hospital rooms to hurt your eyes, but you soon identified that the only source of light was a yellow bulb close to the door.

Natasha.

“Thanks for working the lights down.” You rasped out and stifled a giggle as she jumped from her chair by the wall and bolted to your bed side. The book previously nested between her hands now long forgotten on the floor.

The iron grip which she clutched your hand didn’t go amiss to you. “A week.” The sadness in her eyes was palpable. “A whole week blacked out.” She explained further but you didn’t need to know the details of how long you were sleeping or how many times your heart stopped at surgery.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Then it hit you, the same type of fear your nose caught when she found you in that facility, it was fear but not the one someone feels when they’re actively facing danger, but it was fear for someone else. Fear of losing someone.

Something stirred inside your heart, but it was something that you couldn’t dwell much longer, not, at least, in that moment.

“They had me, after you sent me as scout.” Your tone was flat, and her eyes widened a little at the bluntness of your accusation, though you were far from settling for little. “They knew about the silver.”

Her hold faltered, but your hand was still snuggled between hers. “What are you accusing me of?” She narrowed her eyes, but her green orbs were bright even in the poor light.

“Cynicism doesn’t suit you the way you think it does.” Before you could even pull back your hand, she completely let it go and got to her feet. “Look at my eyes and tell me that you actually didn’t let them get me, just to find their hideout.”

She had her back turned to you, acutely avoiding your gaze. “Look at me!” You demanded and she had the gall to look at you through her lashes, as if her seductive skills could help her now. You wouldn’t fall for that, and she knew it all too well.

“It wasn’t my intention for you to be captured and I never thought someone else would know about your weakness. I thought I was the only one alive to know.” She finally turned to you, eyes now darting around the floor as if it could grant her the answers she sought.

“Lena knows too.” You corrected her, but if she was surprised by your update, she never showed.

Shaking her head right to left as if to deny such possibility, she exclaimed. “She’d never do this to you.” It was funny that at least in this matter you agreed. “I think she loves you more than she loves me.” A sly smile escaped her lips and you had to restrain your heart from fluttering at the sight of it.

“I was waiting for your check-in. I went to your assigned coordinates, and I know I underestimated their numbers, but I would never let someone capture you.” Her feet dragged her back close to your bed but maintained some distance between you.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You shot back without missing a single beat, crossing your arms around your chest.

She sighed tiredly and looked down at the floor. You wouldn’t let her forget that she was the main cause for you to be locked in the Raft, well, her and your support for Steve when Ross tried to shove the Sokovian Accords down your throat, and solely because you shared his point of view.

After being controlled for most of your life by a group with shady intentions, you swore you’d never submit your loyalty and services to a third party again, even if it was a government group – specially a government group, actually, so only over your dead body you’d accept the Accords.

But when you came back to see if Natasha was fine, she had gone without thinking that you were left behind and in the care of Ross to be taken to the Raft with the others, without sparing a single thought to you.

“I’d never ever willingly put you in danger.” She said taking another step closer to you. “I have never mentioned to anyone about your secret, and I purposefully kept it out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

Her eyes kept darting from her hands to your eyes, never focusing, never staying too long. “Look, I know Yelena would never speak about it, but I wouldn’t either. And I didn’t, you must believe me!”

“I must?” Your eyebrows shot up so high so fast it hurt. “Well, you made it pretty damn hard for me to believe, don’t you think, Nat?” Your tone was hard, but you were not even speaking too loud.

Somehow, Natasha thought this hurt way much more.

“C’mon all I feel for you-” She tried to counter, but you wanted to swallow the lump stuck in your throat trying to choke you, so you cut her midsentence.

“Words, Natasha.” She found herself locked within your burning eyes. “I kept you as an oath, yet you hid me like another dirty secret. And all you’ve felt you kept hidden – buried – just as who you really are.”

After years thinking about how she lured and how she hurt you, you thought that maybe spatting what your relationship really was – a hidden lust, would make you feel better, would free yourself from her hold, but it didn’t.

After all, calling her unfair wouldn’t change how lonely she made you feel, how she took your happiness away whenever she drew herself back to her main character as she left you daydreaming about imaginary scenarios built in “what ifs”.

As your words found her ears, they settled heavily in her stomach. She knew she had massed up, she had hurt you many times, yet all she wanted was go back in time and erase all her wrongs and all the times she promised and never delivered.

She didn’t possess a time stone, though. There was nothing she could do about the past, however, she knew she couldn’t run from her mistakes anymore. If she wanted to start anew, she’d have to show she was different.

She wanted to, no, she needed you to understand that she was a whole new person because you’ve changed her. She didn’t want to hide anymore and for that she’d have to let go of her walls and be vulnerable. Truly vulnerable.

Funnily, she had played with her vulnerability before, being vulnerable just enough for people to lower their shields or masks so she could get what she wanted but this was something else entirely.

This time she wouldn’t act. She’d be vulnerable, at your mercy hoping she’d make it out alive on the other side. It was something new and it scared her, but losing you was scarier.

“I didn’t know you came back to check on Barton…” She tried weakly, knowing that this was a sore subject for the both of you. Each with your own views and reasons.

“I helped Clint, yes, but we went back looking for you. Yet, Ross was all we’ve found.” Your glare was cold, perhaps colder than ever. In the pit of her stomach, she knew she deserved it, she just wish you could move on with it.

“I was wrong, okay. Is that what you want to hear?” She snapped, though her voice was still in a low tone, eyes sad. And you hated it. “I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not going after you that day at the airport or at the Raft.”

Her eyes fell once more to your hands, she slowly nursed them in hers and this action was so soft, so hesitantly as if she was afraid of you taking it away; afraid of you shutting her down once more.

“I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t, and for that I’m sorry. But I- I wish we could try move on from this. I still have feelings for you.” As words flowed through her tongue, you watched as eyes portrayed a sincerity that you rarely saw within those forest green orbs.

Usually, they hid her true feelings or performed like an actress twisting her truths mixed with pieces of lies and characters she created through life until she herself was unaware of what was true or not.

“I hear you, Natasha.” You rasped out after a long moment lost inside her beautiful eyes. “You speak of things as you did before, yet you never act on it.”

Her hands were warm, a muted invitation to go back to your dreams of having a life with her. The only person who never showed any sign of fear about your nature, that never once treated you like an animal.

She never treated you like a woman either.

“I want you to show me.” Your stone-cold eyes punctuated your feelings in the matter at hand. If she wanted to have you back, she’d have to show you she’s changed for words could only take her so far.

“I will.” She vowed and smiled softly, though her heart was shattering inside her chest. She made a career making people believe in whatever she wanted, she supposed she’d be able to make you believe in her heart.

How hard would that be?

Laugh filled the room after another not-so-funny Tony’s jokes and your head throbbed as the sound echoed inside your skull. Parties like these were always a torture for you, after all, your enhanced abilities of hearing and catching smells better than a normal person proved to be really awful in a place full of people with different perfumes, scents, chattering and loud music.

However, Tony himself forbid you from leaving tonight for this was his engagement party and it would be rude to Pepper if you left too early. Deciding that indulging him was easier than arguing with him, you found a safe corner and pretended to enjoy whatever was going on.

Though, your sharp eyes, even though you tried hard, always wandered after a certain redhead and you could all but clench your jaw every time you judged someone got too closer for your comfort.

Jealousy clawed its way through your throat and even the best bourbon from the bar couldn’t help it. You knew you had no right, no claim, especially after your last conversation. Still, your heart acted on its own and made sure you’d regret your words and resolve.

Considering that you were one drink from scooping lower than ever for her, you abandoned your glass on a random table and vanished to the balcony in hopes the fresh air could help your head and brain.

The cars down the streets ran from side to side completely unaware of your inner turmoil as you pathetically looked down searching for answers you wouldn’t find there.

In fact, as your answers arrived at the balcony, you realized that her hills clicking the marble floor announced her before her perfume invaded your nostrils in waves as she moved closer and closer towards you.

“Tired of mingling?” She asked as she lined her body at the railing. Her red hair bobbed around her ears in meticulously designed waves and her dark maroon dress hugged her curves in all the nice places.

She was flawless.

As always.

“I think I might’ve break Sam with incredible five words.” You gave her a sly smile that she retributed with a smirk and a fake gasp.

“This is basically a whole speech.” She clicked her tongue playfully. “I think you’ve been around Tony just too much.”

You snorted a laugh and she let a broad smile paint her lips, content with herself for making you ease the pained expression adorning your face the whole evening.

Uncertenty hugged you like a cold blanket as you pondered your next words. As if rolling the dices in a game you were sure you’d end up losing, you turned to her and spoke. “You’re really beautiful tonight, Nat.”

Your heart fluttered as she fought back a smile trying to win her lips and looked down as if she wasn’t expecting your praise. She genuinely looked flustered by your words.

“Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself. Well, I already praised your choice of suit, earlier.” She turned her body so now she was fully looking at you and you tried to remember how to properly breath. However, it was as if the air was composed of her scent.

You were intoxicated.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. “This is the first time we speak tonight.” You clarify. Truth be told you’ve been keeping a fair distance from her and funnily enough she didn’t make the effort to push you and your comfort space.

She did make it obvious that she was trying, though. She invited you out in front of people, she brought you coffee whenever you were reading in the garden in the morning or brought you a blanket when you were on the couch watching movies with Wanda.

Whenever you were called to a meeting, she worked the lights so it wouldn’t hurt your eyes that much. And, one day, she brought you the files they recovered from Hydra from the mission you were taken, and you both learned that one of your creators left behind a journal and there were a lot of dirty secrets down there. Including yours.

To be honest, she was really trying to show her true intentions, but you were still afraid that this was just for show, just a ploy for you to lower your guard and be disappointed after she return to her normal pattern of misleading.

However, the way she stood basking in the moon light looking at you like she was slowly sipped through the cracks of your determination of not giving in that easy.

Her soft smile was a sight to see, and you even forgot that you were waiting for her to reply. “Directly, yes. I sent a drink to you earlier.”

Then it clicked in your head. Your laugh was loud and very uncharacteristic of you, though Natasha simply stood there admiring your carefree stance, a rare occurrence.

Your mind traveled to a moment earlier that night when the waiter approached you with a drink in hand, stating that the lady had sent it to you complimenting your fine tailored suit. At the time, the way he vaguely waved in the direction of Agatha and other ladies, you thought that one of them had been the person.

Though if you thought harder about it, Natasha was at the bar in that moment, right behind said ladies.

“Now it made sense.” You grinned back at her and nodded your head softly. “Thank you for the compliment and the drink.”

“Of course.” She flashed on last smile and turned her body to admire the city bellow and you did the same. Though you found it hard to ignore her presence by your side. You could feel the heat emanating from her skin, her sweet scent still impregnating the air around you and you could hear her fast heartbeat. It was uncommon.

In a haste, you both turned towards each other and started to speak at the same time. A nervous laugh scaped your lips as you signaled for her to go on first. And she did.

She closed her eyes as one does when bracing for the impact, as if second-guessing her next step, but when she opened her eyes again, there was no doubt and no deceit. “I love you and it’s ruining my life not having you, knowing that I am the one who pushed you away.”

You were speechless by her blunt confession, specially because she never, ever, used the word love in such a direct sentence. She expressed her feelings before, yes, but always with an adore, in love with you once or twice, never this straight.

She took your silence as hesitancy and reached for your hand, she yearned for your touch and the closeness of the last weeks made her heart clench with longing. “I am asking for a chance to show you who I really am, and I, please, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I wish to make it up to you.”

Her eyes were pools of emotion and you had trouble in breathing with her so close now. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, the way I should’ve since the very first time I kissed your lips.” Her free hand caressed your cheek in such a tender way that you felt your knees weak.

She was definitely your true weakness.

You brain was haywire, short-circuiting with the lack of air and the sudden increase in your heartbeats. There she was. The woman you felt like you could love forever, offering you what you always wanted: her heart. For real this time. Not the hide and seek games you’ve been playing in the past.

She promised and have been showing changes, however, if you were to be honest, all she’d have to do was to come at you and say hi. If you were to be honest, she would always have your heart at her mercy.

Unable to form words and knowing that your silence was unnerving for her, as you saw her brows furrowing, you decided to answer her differently as you brought your hand to her own cheek and guided her lips to meet yours.

Her lips were soft as they used to be, and you could feel her body melting into the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open when you broke the kiss and smiled softly at her. “I love you too, Nat.”

Smiling back at you, Natasha circled her arms behind your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and another. And another.

And you knew, all too well, that she wouldn’t stop soon.

taglist: @username23345; @afuckingshituniverse; @strangegardentaco; @waltermis (I know you didn't specifically asked to be tagged, but I am doing it, nonetheless, because if your rb - and because you sparked a fire in this. Thank you.)

[lunaxstrange]

Can we talk about love in orv?

[SPOILERS]

Okay so, I am aware that Kdj loves the "story" but I really wanna point some things out individually because it's 2am and ORV is on my mind.

Kdj had the easiest way out of the 1863rd turn. The most perfect turn (at the time) but he really went I'd let the world burn for Yjh? Yeah, everything is "part of his plan" but let's talk about the 73rd Demon King arc. My man would do anything to make sure Yjh finishes his story. Apart from this, it's the fact that while everyone else dislike any other version of Yjh (even he hates himself lol), Kdj loves every. single. one. I mean 3rd turn (1864th) Yjh? Yes. Hsy's 1863rd turn? Yes. Frickin' Secretive Plotter? Got off to a rough start but yes. You simply cannot make Kdj hate his beloved protagonist. I mean, this man risked his whole existence to make sure the 0th turn is actually the most perfect one. He didn't want Yjh to regress but became his sponsor anyway because it's what Yjh wanted. He would do anything to see Yjh happy. This type of love isn't romantic or platonic or anything else, it's the most inexplicable form of love. Love in its purest form. I'd like to take the time to compare it to Achilles and Patroclus because while we can fight over whether these two were gay or not, we cannot deny the sheer love they had for each other. No strings attached. Kdj is in awe of Yjh.

Yjh. The regressor. The protagonist. The person Kdj loves the most. Yjh had everything (0th turn) but he really gave it all up just to meet Kdj. Suffered the "Hell of eternity" just to see him. Bro didn't even love Lsw the way he loves Kdj. Tbf, 0th turn Yjh didn't know what the real struggle of passing the scenarios without help was but I'm sure he got the gist. Okay, sure, you can call it "curiosity" that led to Yjh keeping Kdj alive during the 3rd (1864th) turn. But my guy didn't choose Kdj to go to Peace Land because he had "someone he loved" like bro, YJH!? THE COLD REGRESSOR??? HE DID THAT FOR KIM DOKJA! Not to mention the fact that Yjh didn't even care that his whole life was a mere novel. He just despised the fact that Kdj chose the 1863rd turn over him. I'm gonna cry. Bro wanted Kdj so bad that he kept fighting the Secretive Plotter. Not only this, he gave up the 3rd (1864th) turn for Kdj too. Went from Supreme King to terrorist just to save Kdj. When everyone else - even Hsy - gave up. After all, what is a protagonist without a reader? The whole astronaut ordeal might've been to "find his purpose" but we can't ignore their connection. He gave up everything he could ever ask for twice (0th and 3rd/1864th turn) for Kdj. The attachment these two have with each other is insane.

I could go on about them for eternity but we have another person to talk about - Hsy. This woman spent 10 years exhausted, stuck in a world-line and body not her own for one person. Even if it's only Hsy with half her memories, she gave up her perfect world-line because she missed Kdj. Just like Kdj loves Yjh, Hsy also loves every version of Kdj. She wanted to meet him, no matter what the world-line. My girl had only a few hours where she was in control and decided to use off all those hours to write TWSA - a story she herself disliked. Hsy wants to see Kdj happy, every part of Hsy loves Kdj. There is nothing a writer could love more than an avid reader who loves their story. And let's talk about the fact that Yjh and Hsy absolutely hate each other. He is literally her creation (more or less) but their relationship is questionable. Why? Because a protagonist has no value without a reader. Kinda like Asuka Ren and Kyrgios Rodgraim. They have no special relationship despite being creator and creation. Since there is no reader, Asuka and Kyrgios are as distant as two people can be. Alternatively, what brings Hsy and Yjh together is Kdj.

I just can't get enough of the way ORV relationships are written. If I had to describe love as a writer, I'd cite ORV as an example.

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘂: 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche x gn!reader:

⤷ cw: obsessiveness, self aware ⤷ speed-wrote this so sorry for any mistakes spps

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

XIAO is perplexed, if anything.

Why would you write such things about him, of all people? In a way, he’s honored that you’d think highly enough of him, but what’s with this strangely flowery language? The adeptus has read his fair share of local tales, but this is nothing in comparison. Not by far.

In a way, he feels like he’s intruding upon your personal information, but then again, you don’t even know he’s alive, do you? So as long as you stay unaware, it’d be fine, right? At least, that’s what he tells himself as he reads over the text you’ve accidentally left open on your screen, face flushed as sudden heat rises to his cheeks.

Is this… normal? Do all humans do things like… this? Writing their fantasies down in text to satisfy themselves? 

Xiao really won’t ever understand the things that mortals do. The male isn’t sure how to feel at all.

Do you… Do you want him to do these things to you?

Maybe that’s why he keeps reading the words you granted him to read, over and over again, breath shallow. 

Do you want him to whisper his praises into your ear, to confess his love to you while the two of you watch the sunset beneath the mountainous skyline? To smile at you, light glimmering within his amber eyes? To hold you in his arms, to kiss you so tenderly, just like how you wanted him to? Just like how you wrote?

Because if that’s the case, he’s willing to. More than willing.

 A thousand, no, a million times over, he’ll do it all, however many times you want. ♥

KAZUHA is impressed at your work, and more than a little interested.

After all, the wandering poet he is, Kazuha has written quite the number of literature pieces himself, all of them about you… so he’s quite enthralled when he finds out that you write about him too! He might be overthinking some things, but he’s really, really excited about it… likely more than you’ll ever realize.

Because to him, writing is the highest form of endearment - a way to express oneself in the truest way possible, and to discover that you’ve been doing that for him, well… he can’t stop his heart from beating as fast as it is!

This means you feel the same way about him that he does you, right? After all, if you’re writing about how much you love him, that’s basically a confession, isn’t it?

And If… If you asked, he would be more than willing to show you the countless poems he’s written about you… some written in red ink, some in black, several smudged while others lay half-torn. Either way, all of them are for you, of you, all of them singing praises of your name and affectionate adorations of your being.

Because simply a hundred of them isn’t enough, not by far, to profess his profound love for you. His love for you is an imperfect feeling that sends his heart racing and his face burning.

He’ll just have to keep writing and writing until he can capture the obsessive feeling that seems to swallow him up, however long it’ll take. ♥

HEIZOU is only slightly surprised, but more so intrigued.

Who knew the creator had such a… shameful side to them? No, that’d be a disrespectful way to describe it… how about bashful? He finds it innocent, almost, which is strange.

In the first place, many wouldn’t expect you to be so susceptible to such fantasies, let alone write such ideas down. And while he is somewhat shocked, it’s also predictable. Heizou has analyzed your personality and character over and over, countless times over, and he knows your tendencies, all of them. This is merely a different foresight in thousands upon thousands of possibilities.

But expectation aside, Heizou can’t help but keep reading what you’ve written about him… do you really think of the detective like this? Someone so… charming and romantic? It’s flattering, almost too much so. The very thought of it, the very sight of your carefully crafted words and sentences, he can hear the way his heart thumps in his ears and the way his face is twisted into a lovesick smile. 

After all, if this is what you’ve dreamed up of, then that’s what you want him to do to you, right? Haha, ask nicely, and Heizou will be more than willing to play along with whatever you have in mind.

Ah, but you should keep in mind.

Once Heizou has a taste of what he wants, he might never stop.♥

SCARAMOUCHE judges you, of course.

He finds it puzzling and somewhat unsettling at the same time… why is it that you write down such stories about what he would do to you? He hasn’t done a single action described in the fantasies you’ve written, so why do you still persist so earnestly?

…It almost disgusts him.

Of course, he’d never say it to your face… or then again, maybe he would. Scaramouche is a brash man, and that’s common knowledge. After all, the strong can say whatever they want, can’t they?

Still… it’s oddly comforting to see you do this. And the male doesn't really know why. Maybe it’s because you care for him enough to dream about these kinds of things? Or maybe it’s evidence to him that you won’t be another to leave him?

He’s strangely conflicted, and to him, that’s weakness. Both appalled and enthralled… how is he supposed to feel?

And it doesn’t help that even through his whines, he keeps reading. Reading with the slightest dust of red across his cheeks and the way his breath hitches every time you’ve written his name. Heart skipping a beat every time his eyes scan over the sentences one more time, once more, just once more.

Is that the way you feel about him?

And why was it that he felt the same? ♥

(a/n) oh dear my mental state is declining again wooOoOo

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Errors, “Errors,” and Sci Fi

@strawberry-crocodile

tvtropes calls stuff like the wolf example "science matches on" which I think is a pretty fair shake

This.  This is what’s got me thinking so much about errors.  There’s a certain danger, here.  A certain way that this particular effect — delicious dramatic irony — tempts the mind when reading old stories, even true ones.

What do you know about R.M.S. Titanic? I ask my class every year, and the first hand rises.  “It was unsinkable,” the student inevitably says, and everyone is nodding, “or so they thought.”  I write the word UNSINKABLE on the board, underneath my crude drawing of a ship with four smokestacks.  It will be crossed out before the end of the hour, but not for the reason they expect.

“I find no evidence,” Walter Lord, preeminent biographer of the ship’s survivors, wrote, “that Titanic was ever advertised as unsinkable. This detail seems to have entered the collective mind so as to create a more perfect irony.”  Indeed, historians’ examinations of White Star Line documents show the shipbuilders themselves worried it would be so large as to risk collision; they stocked several more lifeboats than 1910s regulations required.

The War to End All Wars (deep breath, satisfied exhale), also known as World War ONE. Chuckle.  Shake of the head.  What if I told you that this phrase, used primarily in American newspapers after the fact, wasn’t meant to be literal? Nowadays we’d say The Mother of All Wars, or One Hell of a Fucking War, but we wouldn’t mean literal motherhood, literal intercourse.  What if I said the armistice and the Lost Generation and the Roaring 20s were all braced for another outbreak of European conflict, and yet we still failed to prevent it?

Did you know they were so confident in the safety of the S.S. Challenger that they put a civilian schoolteacher onboard? I do, because I’ve heard that one repeated many times.  Only, see, it’s got the cause and effect reversed.  Challenger launched on a day the shuttle’s engineers knew to be dangerously cold, because the first civilian in space was on board. And NASA knew its shuttle project would be cancelled entirely, if they couldn’t get that civilian’s much-delayed entry into space in the next two weeks.  So they launched on a cold day, and killed her instead.

These are all what cognitive science calls Hindsight Bias on the personal level, what sociology calls Presentism on the cultural level.  Social psychology’s a little of both, is primarily interested in why you’re sitting on your couch in a Colonize Mars shirt watching PBS and chuckling at the fools who believed in El Dorado.  It wants to know why the mind flees straight from “marijuana will kill you” to “marijuana will cure cancer” without so much as a pause on the middle ground of its real benefits and drawbacks, its real (mild) risks and rewards.

And they can paralyze the sci-fi writer, if you think too much about them. Jetsons is futurist one decade, retro the next.  “There are no bathrooms on the Enterprise,” the creators of Serenity say smugly, as if Gene Roddenberry should’ve simply known that decades later it’d be acceptable to show a man peeing in full view of the camera, nothing but the curve of the actor’s hand to protect his modesty.  “No sound in space,” the Fandom Menace says, “No explosions in space,” and “A space station can’t collapse in zero-G.”  Only then NASA burns a paper napkin outside of atmosphere, transmits music using only the ghost of nearby planets’ gravities, and logs onto Reddit long enough to point out the Death Star would implode in its own gravity field.  And now we’re the ones pointing, the ones laughing, at those earlier point-and-laughers.  Self-satisfied, smug in superiority.  As if we did the work to find out ourselves, instead of just happening to be born a little later than George Lucas.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

*swings legs* some SAGAU thoughts for when you're sick

it's been raining for days.

no one's sure what caused the sudden flood- normally Liyue's storms were quick and short, unless an Adeptus or God had some part in it- but this time it continued for weeks, the rainwater soaking into the soil and pooling in crevices, the canals of the Harbor overflowing into the streets. the people grow worried, turning to the Qixing who have no solutions, and the hidden Rex Lapis investigates in the shadows and uncovers nothing.

Childe simply watches the rain in silence, leaning against the cave wall, the horns of his Foul Legacy form lightly clacking against the damp stone. unlike the rest, he knows the source of the downpour- but it doesn't make it any less worrying.

there's a soft groan behind him, and Childe's head jerks towards the mound of blankets on the floor, hurrying to kneel beside the figure buried beneath the covers- the Creator, his God.

you.

how long have you been sick for? too long- far too long for anyone, but there's not much either of you can do, with the entire nation and beyond hunting for your head. his claws brush your forehead, a low whine slipping from his fanged maw when he feels it burning, just as it was the day before. the Abyss in him howls for revenge- to strike down those who hurt you, those who chased you away, those who forced you to hide in a dark, cold cavern- but a shuddering gasp from you quiets his desire for blood, cooling it to soft, fluttering concern in his chest. your eyes, previously screwed shut in pain, crack open as you look dazedly at Childe's Foul Legacy.

"Ajax...?"

ah. his God uttering his true name in such a gentle tone would normally make his heart soar, but now it simply makes him whimper, knowing you can barely see him through the haze of your sickness. your hand extends out from under the blankets, weakly grasping one of his claws, and in a moment of solemn, fretful reverence, he brings it to his mouth and presses his version of a kiss to your too-warm skin. you shift, attempting to scoot closer, and Childe carefully scoops you and the covers into his arms, resting his chin atop your head as you curl against his chest.

you let out a wracking cough, and Childe has to hold back a sob, instead focusing on purring smoothly to help you sleep, talons mindful of the injuries and bruises that litter your body.

holding his God close, Childe quietly watches the rain thin slightly as you find comfort in his hold.

[ufopigeon]

to the random ass proshippers

I’ll block proshippers and I won’t throw any first punches if I find the accounts. Just block n’ move on. Think what you want, but think it away from me. This is for the ppl who are going after others both anonymously and in the open, and being insistent about misunderstanding his character. It is absolutely absurd that some are really trying to PUSH the mere implication that the Postal Dude could be a pedo/have pedophilic tendencies, or that “it makes sense for him”. Some of you are ragebait I’m sure, but I also sadly think some of you are really genuine. And this is also the last I am going to speak about it. Just wanted to do something longer on behalf of everyone else who does not agree with this random influx.

The Postal Dude is obviously designed to be an ambiguous character, allowing players to project various characteristics onto him. HOWEVER, this doesn't mean that any and all negative traits can be justified. Ambiguity in character design is meant to give freedom in interpretation, but it doesn't equate to carte blanche for projecting extreme or inappropriate characteristics that aren't supported by the game’s narrative or the developer's intent. Assuming that a character would commit any and all bad acts simply because they commit some is a lazy and inaccurate approach to understanding character design.

The argument that, "Durrr he’s literally a mass shooter, why is it so far-fetched for him to be a pedo too?" is a slippery slope fallacy. It’s that same exact shit all the edgelords try to use when they say (just so they can justify attacking any queer fans, same way SOME proshippers want to feel justified in attacking those who disagree), “The Postal Dude SPECIFICALLY hates gay people and trans people and wouldn’t support them at all/be grossed out by them! Why? Uhh, because he’s literally an evil, vile character! Duh!” Sure he is. No denying that. And sure, you can think that about him. But it’s just fundamentally inaccurate. Just because the games allow for extreme behaviors doesn’t mean they endorse or include every possible immoral action.

And just because a character engages in morally questionable actions doesn’t logically lead to them engaging in the worst possible behaviors. The creator's stance is crucial in defining the boundaries of the character. If the creators have explicitly stated that Postal Dude would never engage in pedophilia (just like how they explicitly stated he wasnt transphobic) and that such content would never be included in the game, this is a definitive limitation on what the character can be reasonably interpreted as. Again, I don’t care if you hold a private opinion that differs. But when you start accusing those who disagree with this extreme interpretation of being the weird or wrong ones, that’s where it becomes an issue.

Dude's actions, while extreme, are presented within a certain context that aims to criticize or mock certain aspects of society. Pedophilia is not something that fits within this satirical style. Yes, even for Postal 1997. I don't care if it is generally considered more "serious" than other games, they still had Dude throwing out stupid-ass catchphrases in a silly radio-host-sounding voice that was obviously supposed to be a stark contrast to what was happening on screen (“Buttsauce”. “Smells like chicken” when burning NPCs. Really now? Go ahead and listen to more from the original. They’re all silly one-liners.). It was a shock at the time and a bit of dark humor. Following games only increased this aspect.

All in all, Postal Dude’s actions, while immoral, are usually presented in a way that allows for some level of detachment or absurdity, keeping them within the realm of dark comedy. Yes, 1997 is still included here. It’s an absurd game. One man took out hundreds of people and was armed to the teeth, even with literal rocket launchers. His main weapon has infinite ammunition. It was an obviously over-the-top video game with a loose connection to reality and an even looser message about “something something mental health and everyone has it in them to go postal”. It was a game made to shock people. Pedophilia, however, is universally considered an irredeemable act, something that cannot be framed in any context that would make it acceptable or even darkly humorous. The distinction between immoral and irredeemable acts is crucial here. The Postal Dude can be morally ambiguous, but crossing into irredeemable territory would fundamentally alter the character in a way that the game and its creators/99.9% of the fans do not support.

Also: “But muh 1997 promo art where it says his girlfriend was 17!! She says they just started dating 3 weeks ago!!” Yeah. The same photo was used with the girl also saying, “It was so weird. He told everyone I was his girlfriend, but I only met him once.” It says “live” near the bottom corner, implying this was an interview with the girl AFTER the crimes had taken place. In the promotional pic where it states she’s 17, it also says she DIED of third degree burns while he was on his rampage. Now that doesn’t really add up, does it. How can this girl give an interview after everything is said and done while also dying in the middle of his killing spree?

AKA, these promotional photos were reused over and over because they were on a budget and really not thinking about it, and are absolutely not valid for legit storytelling purposes at all. RWS has even said this themselves.

[its-dari]

The Loving Hands of God

Creator AU - Where the reader is treated like a diety by the characters of Genshin Impact

Pairing(s): None || PLATONIC: Son! Wanderer & Parental! Gender Neutral! Creator! Reader Summary: He is reminded everyday that you chose him. But some days are harder than others; and he's grateful to have you sweep the cloudy skies away.

A/N: I don't really play Genshin but here we are, I'm just getting out my ideas - don't mind me.

This Wanderer is named "Kaito(神愛)", with the characters written for "god" and "love". I thought it could be cute to kind of give a call back to his origin but something also to remind him of how far he's come. He also calls the reader "Oya", which is the best thing I could get to a gender neutral Japanese term for mother or father.

I won't be taking requests! This is most likely a one time thing. This is also inspired by "this lovely piece" by @dropletpetals

(Extra Miscellaneous HCs: "The Son of Graces")

Warning(s): Wanderer backstory spoilers! Some revenge. This was written on my phone so forgive any errors.

Over grassy, rolling knolls - filled to the brim with blooming flowers in his favorite colors and breeds. Even under the loving warmth of sun on his cheeks and clouds turning themselves into the childish shapes of his desire. Even as the song on the winds speak his new name into his ears, the bonfires below burning it up so it reached the heavens. to the voices of acolytes proclaiming it so...

He was worried.

Worried and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He was unwanted everywhere else.

By his mother, who made him a puppet - who left him with no identity or name

By the Fatui, who deemed him unworthy.

So when it came to be; the Creator's return to the mortal plane...

When he'd come to demand answers, angry about simply existing.

Your voice so gentle and warm, apologizing that you were not there to help him when he called to your name in begs and prayers. When the world you made and hurt him so much and how sorry you were that it treated him so cruelly... He felt the sincerity pouring through every pore, it washed over him - like a blanket.

You understood his pain.

He found that you had long since been asleep, since the dawn of the Archonic creation. Even the small bit of divinity used to create each drained your body, already tired from forming Teyvat with your hands. So you could not know of the acts being committed in your name, what those of your own blood were doing.

"If I had known one of mine created their own, I would have cherished them like I did them." You said with a softness only rivaled by your hands.

He had fallen to his knees, unable to stand after the crushing weight of pain fell upon him. You were not completely blameless...

But you did not lie to him.

Did not abandon him.

You stayed until the tears dried up, stroking his sore eyes.

"So now that I know she did not love you like you deserve... You are mine now." He nearly fell again, but your embrace held him up. "You will be my son... And I will give you everything."

How it was so warm and loving, arms cradling him as if he were nothing more than a babe. His hands white-knuckling at your divine robes as he just sniveled into your chest, no doubt covering them in his snot and tears... But you didn't care, cooing sweetly to the boy about how he's already made you proud. How you already loved him.

He nearly cried again when you gave him his name.

"You will be my son, so your name will have our title."

You pondered about it for a while before having a servant fetched ink and parchment. It was a bit unusual, seeing you hold the calligraphy brush. Seeing the ink touching the edges if your sleeves and staining them, but you just smile so brightly when it is finished.

「神愛」

He longed for a place to belong, for an identity... For someone or something to give him worth.

You have given him all these things.

He was uncomfortable at first having it, as it was blatantly a reminder of his lineage. of the woman who abandoned him... Of beelzebul.

But you only smiled.

"It is to remind everyone where you started," your hands come to guide him "and how far you've come."

"The character for god, so you always remember me and so I am always with you." You hummed a lullby as the strokes appeared across the parchment. "And the character for love so you know how much I have for you."

He smudges ink on his robes too, unable to stop smiling as his whispered his name to himself.

Kaito was the name on the tongues of the acolytes once his adoption was raised outside your walls domain. Call of festivals was announced to welcome him into the fold, into the public, as the beloved son of Teyvat's dear Creator soon to be celebrated as well.

For if he was worthy in the eyes of the Creator; he should also be worshipped.

He laughed at Beelzebul's frantic correspondence sent to you; of which descended into begging for at least a letter to be sent... You had found yourself simply unable to deal with her after finding out what she'd done to him, decidedly icing her out on his behalf.

It was a wonderful feeling being loved, as sweet as it would be showing her what had become of her puppet.

He allowed an invitation to his coronation be sent to her, despite your worries about his mental health.

"Are you sure you want to see her, dear? it'd be so dreadful if she ruined your special day." You asked him gently, your concern making his cold heart swell.

"I will be fine," he insisted as you settle another crown to test on his head, amused "it will show her what she missed and how much it cost her."

You laughed at the cruelty but don't otherwise protest.

You didn't find a crown suited to him that day, though you thanked the providers. The items were returned and shop-keeps were able to keep them as they were considered beautiful pieces by the creator.

The day came and he still did not have a crown.

But he trusted you to find one, as you insisted it would be only appropriate as he was your son.

The day had come quicker than he would have liked, how he was primped and cleansed - donning the celestial robes of the creator.

Of you, his darling guardian.

They were deep violet, small pearlescent spots likes stars crawling up the gold trimmed edges. His under clothes blacker than the abyss, the servants in awe of his beauty. Leaving him bashfully flushing and modestly brushing off their assorted compliments. He dripped in opulence, gold pieces to accent his looks as the crackle of blessing came from the Gnosis you made personally for him.

As he finally was ready, he wondered if he was worthy.

Your eyes sparkled like gems when you saw him, taking him in your open arms and bursting in joy. Happy to see him looking so handsome and playfully crooning about his future partner in a manner that made him absolutely red in embarrassment.

You only laughed and softly spoke, "Come baby, there is a whole world to show that you are worthy of worship."

His hand was clasped in your's, the walk slow and almost agonizing. The chattering of people growing less distant with the passing moments, his hands shake and he needed a second as you stepped onto the balcony first.

The cheers of Teyvat boomed like a sonic roar, your hymns and prayers called to the wind as the ground and skies bellowed your name. He is terrified....

But he is ready.

You lifted your hands for silence, still smiling as bright and as warm as the sun. The hush that came was nearly instant, eager faces peering up in utter reverence. Archons on high waiting to hear your lovely voice.

"My dear creations, Teyvat.... As you have heard, I have found a son." The cheers from below just made you smile wider "It is much more than just finding someone worthy to hold my place and succeed me, it is because I love this boy... Love him so dearly that I wanted him as my own, he deserves your worship. Deserves to be loved as much as I. He'd gone through much pain and it broke my heart to know that this world that I made treats its kind people with such cruelty."

Your eyes watered when the people join together, holding hands and each other.

"If I could take all the suffering, I would... But feeling and understanding pain is what shows we are alive, that we are stronger for persevering." your voice shook, "And my poor boy had been through so much."

Your hands wipe your eyes and they watch, captivated at your grace and beauty - even in your sorrow. But then you give them a smile again and step aside, calling to the masses in pride that is so reminiscent of a parent.

"I, the All-Creator, Jewel of Celestia, have the greatest pleasure to present to you; your prince and my son..." The curtains pull back and he walked onto the balcony, beams of light shining off his hair and deep eyes. "Young lord Kaito of Teyvat!!!"

The screams would be deafening if you both weren't so high up, the chants of his new name louder than he can even think. The shouts of praise nearly make him shrink, but he stood tall. Especially as your hand touched his back, as your smiling face came into his peripheral. With his head up, he looked at them dead on and waved.

He smiled.

Especially as his sharp eyes caught Beelzebul's pale, shocked face. but the fuzzy warmth in his chest only grew as your fingers touched the top of his head.

From your touch, your grace washed over him. The weight of a diadem formed on his head. The Gnosis on his chest buzzed to life and his body rolled in a brightness rivaled only by the stars, from his skin to his blood - it was if he was charged with energy. A power that was unlike anything else he'd ever had.

"Divinity suits you, Kaito." You hummed, taking his hand.

Kaito smiled shyly and just squeezed your hand and whispered, "Only because I take after you, Oya."

At your side, he finally has a place.

He finally has his rightful godly status.

As he looked to see pride in your glittering tears and smile nearly blinding... A peace like no other settled within him.

He belongs.

He is worthy.

[barbieaemond]

Sometimes it’s hard to stay here. Hard in terms of mental energy completely burned out because of anons. When I started this blog I was not aware of this, I was not ready and that led me to nuke my old blog. I’ve learned how to deal with it and I try not to care anymore but as I said, it’s hard.

I don’t know why it is the way it is in this fandom. I find it tiresome at times, exhausting even, because I end up piling a lot of bad energy that turns my brain into mush. I post gifs, problems. I post fics, problems. I say my inconsequential opinion, problems. This is not about today, please don’t come at me saying I’m whining, I’m not whining. I’ve piled up unpleasant things over the weeks due to my nasty anons (many of them don’t even get their moment in the sun), as well as the ones my moots and friends got, and I’m simply reflecting.

Plus, it’s not about me. Sadly, it’s not just about me.

I see this happening to everyone here, especially creators, the very people who should be cherished instead of chased with pitchforks. And for what? Because you disagree with them? Scroll. You don’t like that fic? Scroll.

Please, find something more positive and imaginative to do than harassing strangers on the internet. It’s not worth it and you end up ruining someone’s day or kill their motivation to keep the very fandom you’re supposed to enjoy, funny and alive.

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Couldn't find any fatui x reader SAGAU so I wrote what I wanted to read. It's a tough gig, but someone has to do it. Also yes, I know my sentences are too long

Contains - Mentions of blood (yay), me pretending like scara is still part of the fatui and la signora isn't dead, a good part of this is just you monologuing about how you're going to die (spoilers: you don't) no gold blood (sorry guys) also gn reader

With every labored breath that fell from your lips, you became more certain that this was where you would die. Not in a comfortable bed, surrounded by family to hold you gently as you slipped on, but alone and scared in a foreign land. You traced patterns on the snow that you lay upon, the only movement you could force yourself to do since you collapsed into that very snow hours prior. Part of you said it was the cold that had brought you to your knees, the other, more rational, part said that is was the gaping wound in your side and the heavy trail of red that you had sloppily painted the pristine landscape with.

You could not recall who dealt that blow to you. There were too many bows, swords, spears, that had rained down upon you to tell whose had cut you. And you hadn't looked. You didn't want to know, of those who you had adored through a screen, had performed the killing blow. It was a miracle that you had escaped. Perhaps it was a blessing from the god whose face you had unwittingly stolen, to give you the chance to fade away gently before they could inflict more pain to you.

But as soon as the thought of a peaceful end crossed your mind, you heard it. At first, you could pretend it was merely the howling wind that swirled above, but as the noises got louder, your brain was forced to recognize them as they were: voices. A single tear slid down your cheek as you lay motionless, the last tear you would shed for yourself.

"-they get this far? With the amount of blood they've lost, surely they must be de-"

"Shh! Don't even speak the words! The death of a god would not go unpunished and I do not delight in the thought of what punishment would be in store for us, so please, refrain from such-"

"Over there!"

The hands that grabbed you almost seemed to burn, their gentle warmth scorching your frost-ridden skin. Panicked voices swirled around you, words disappearing from your mind as soon as they are spoken. The only thing you truly hear, as the darkness surrounds you, was the frantic yell for a healer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were warm. A rather bland, yet incomprehensible feeling considering the few days you had just had. However, as you forced your eyes open, the reason for your warmth became clear. Gone was the infinite snowy landscape, replaced with a truly massive bedroom and a crackling fire that provided your only light aside from the slightly ajar double doors and the sliver of light they let through. And the bed that you lay upon, which seemed far too spacious for even two people rest in, was piled high with furs and blankets. You wondered whether the person who had made this bed for you had simply taken every blanket they could find and thrown them upon you in the hopes that it would keep you warm.

"Liyue had extended their sincere apology for the treatment of the Divine One, but we are yet to hear anything from Inazuma."

The voice that snaked its way into your room was firm and professional, but with a sharp venom lacing every word, especially the nations that they named. The next voice in comparison made no effort to conceal its vicious hatred, anger seeping out of every letter.

"Not even a letter. How disgraceful. I expected nothing less from a nation that cannot even know its creator when they see them, but somehow, they still disappoint me."

Quite a few murmurs of agreement surrounded that statement, revealing truly how many people stood outside your room, before the first voice responded.

"You would think, Capitano, that such devout worshippers would have a good set of working eyes, however-"

You did not hear beyond that. That name, it told you everything about where you had found yourself and the nature of those voices whispering in the hallway.

The Harbingers.

You almost had to laugh, that your sworn enemies within the narrative were the ones to be providing you shelter after your 'allies' had turned against you. But instead of a laugh, a name fell from your lips, louder then intended, causing the voices outside to hush.

The name of the person you wished to see and, if you were being honest with yourself, your favorite Harbinger.

Now the only question is... who was it?

Pierro

Dottore

Columbina

Scaramouche

Sandrone

Signora

Pantalone

Tartaglia

Capitano

Arlecchino

Anyway, I'll write their lil pathways when i have the energy but hey, if you're reading this, if you want to comment which one you want first, i might listen

[goodolddumbbanana]

Something about you are fated to be the monster. And something about it is so easy to break a Moon

I just realised something... The main reason why Moon didn't fuck himself over that bad just like Nexus is simply because back then, he had Sun as his hatred burning passion.

He was so focused on tortured Sun while letting his Killcode activated. He had his murder as his outlet, he had Sun as his outlet. His emotions for highest and lowest still in his control because someone helped him to release it.

Because when we look at it, Nexus lost Solar just like how Moon killed these kids, killed Jonathan by accident. They both hold a lot of guilt leading them to their breakdown.

Like how Moon wanted to die to get rid of these guilts, Nexus worked himself in despair with a little sparkling of realised no matter what him do, he couldn't protect and save anyone and then end up pushing everyone away

(He killed Eclipse, Eclipse comes back. Earth lost her body when he wasn't there, Sun got kidnapped multiple times, and died in his dream. Losing Solar just a final hit in his nail.)

Because Nexus, Nexus has no one. Dude just freshed-out woke up and had to face Eclipse right after that, and then a lot of craps too. He didn't have his outlet, always has to be better than the old one. And remember, Creator builds Moon to be a monster, a beast.

And we can unclip the wing of that beast, but couldn't change his nature. We had seeb the Moon who killed his Sun, he got so bottom in his hatred. Also, Moon has left half of his issue for eclipse and kc. He has scraped one piece by piece the thing that makes him insane.

But Nexus. He is a fresh new Moon. All his problems and issues are still inside his code.

And this revives Moon, he still has his Killcode, which means, the potential of him gone bad, once again happened. Which means, if Moon doesn't go Cray Cray, he will do something worse .

So.... Murder good for your health, I guess.

[ladyrijus]

Lately, I have been thinking about Kotake and Koume, and, out of interest, have read through a lot of interesting takes on their involvement in Ganondorf's upbringing during Ocarina of Time. However, I've noticed that some of these discussions tend to depict them as emotionally distant, exploitative, manipulative, and even borderline cruel.

Which, granted, isn't entirely out of line for their characters. What other personality traits could we expect out of witches who brainwashed their people into doing the bidding of their king, who were born nearly 400 years before the events of Ocarina of Time and therefore hold a vastly different worldview than the rest of their tribe?

But as always, I like to carry a bit of sensible skepticism when it comes to the narrative that is being pushed in the game. And I find it almost imperative to do so for Ocarina of Time, given that it is played through the eyes of Link, a child soldier who fails to question the orders that he believes he is meant to follow, and the kingdom of Hyrule, which had recently come out as the victor and dominant power after a "civil" war.

The question still remains, however. What, in Ocarina of Time, would "redeem" Twinrova? Where can we see evidence of their "goodness"?

In my opinion? Their powers.

Their powers, I argue, were not chosen randomly by the creators of Ocarina of Time. It was absolutely intentional to show their association with the Gerudo Tribe and more importantly, the Gerudo Valley/Desert. Just think about it, the climate there is scorching hot during the day, yet biting cold during the night.

Wouldn't you, with powers of ice, try to cool down your people after they return from a tiring yet successful hunt?

Wouldn't you, with powers of fire, try to warm your people up when there is not enough hides and furs to pass around?

And given that no one (aside from maybe Ganondorf) has these powers, it is safe to assume that the Gerudo regarded Twinrova as blessed beings; divine guardians sent by the Goddess of the Sands as a reward for their endurance in such harsh climates.

Again, this isn't to condone their actions that take place during the game. We see they are more than happy to kill in the name of their king, willing to coerce others into killing by ways of dark magic.

However, we should also acknowledge the fact that we're encouraged to see just that: two antagonistic witches who revel in brainwashing, killing, cheating death, and being unapologetically evil.

Boring. If we wanted absolutely evil, death seeking creatures, we can look to literally any other magical creature in Ocarina of Time.

Rather, it's important that Twinrova are humans (or humanoid, though either way their sentience still stands), as it forces players to 1) look at the bigger picture and question why the twins behave the way they do and 2) recognize that they have motives that go beyond simply helping a king assert control over an entire world.

Perhaps, Twinrova might have been prolonging their lives to look out for their people, as they had no one with magical affinity to mentor until Ganondorf had demonstrated his own prowess in the mystical arts.

Perhaps, over the centuries, they realized the chiefs and chieftesses before Ganondorf were not cutthroat enough like their Hylian counterparts to fend off territorial expansion/colonization.

Perhaps, after seeing their era of prosperity being snatched away from them, they grew hateful of the kingdom that lives in splendor, and wanted to see it burn and freeze the way they do.

Perhaps, after seeing the complacency of the new generation, how some of their best warriors seek out lovers in that damned Castle Town, they realized this boy was their only hope of restoring their honor and dignity.

[viviennevermillion]

finding solace

notes: i don't feel like this one lives up to my usual standards of writing i hold myself to because i wrote it while experiencing writer's block and mental health issues but i really wanted to write something.

also if you like my works, feel free to commission me!

word count: 2.7k

contains: leona kingscholar x gn!reader, comfort, reader has depression

warnings: symptoms of depression, non-sexual nudity (taking a shower together)

dark content creators & consumers do not interact

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The sun broke through the blinds in an almost grotesque, unnerving way. Or at least, that was what it felt like for you. Seeing Leona of all people be more active than you was a bad sign by itself, but your own mood was something you could hardly ignore at this current moment. The more time passed, with you idly laying in your boyfriend’s bed, covered only half by the blanket and the bedsheets a mess from the tossing and turning you had done throughout the day; the worse you started to feel. But anything you could do seemed as pleasant of an idea as climbing a whole mountain right now. You scolded Leona often enough, but this was probably what he felt like all the time. Minutes seemed to turn into hours and you wanted to cry but the tears were far from coming out. You knew crying could sometimes make one feel better but it seemed like not even that was an option for you now. 

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, tired and exhausted; then setting it down and trying to rest but ultimately realizing destiny was hellbent on keeping you awake, no matter if your eyes became red and felt like they were burning. So you gave up and picked up the phone again. What was the point of anything right now?

You wished there was at least something you were looking forward to in the near future that would motivate you to do something or make you feel happier. But all there was, left a bland taste in your mouth and a hopeless expression of defeat in your eyes as you gazed up to the ceiling in a desperate search for anything that wouldn’t bore you to death. Leona wasn’t a big help either. He had his own depressed state of mind to deal with and right now that consisted of laying in bed next to you, not doing anything as well. You tried to snuggle closer to him but no position you found in his arms brought you the comfort and happiness you were used to. It was warm in Savanaclaw and you wished the blinding sun and the heat would be replaced by a cool wind of the night, even if it was just 10 minutes.

Leona had told you a story once of one of the kings of the past who ran away from the palace after a coup when he was just a child; collapsing in a merciless drought and destined to die of thirst and heatstroke had it not been for two kind strangers who’d take care of him and look after him. That was how you felt at this moment. Like you were left in a barren wasteland as the sun was looking forward to grill you alive, even though Leona had put up a ventilator in front of the bed so you’d be more comfortable. 

You could see from the corner of your eyes that he was watching you, silently, as the minutes passed and nothing happened. You wondered what was on his mind. He gave you your answer soon enough.

“You don’t seem to be doing too well there, herbivore”, he commented and turned your head to face him. You simply shrugged, not knowing what to respond. Leona’s expression darkened. He was used to this attitude from himself, but seeing you like this; with the same lack of energy and optimism as him; made his heart ache. He had long since given up on himself but in his eyes you deserved so much. You deserved that beautiful smile he slowly but deeply fell for and you deserved to feel excited and hopeful. 

He hated to see you like this. If anything motivated Leona on days like these it was trying to make sure you were at least content. Ever since he had confessed to you, he had been coming to classes more frequently and trying to fill his day with more activities. He could hardly motivate himself to do anything for himself but doing things for you gave him that final kick needed to get up from the bed and stay up.

He absentmindedly looked at you for a while; lying next to him with your eyes closed. Leona was lost in his own thoughts and when his attention shifted back to you, he noticed there were tears staining your cheeks now. Your slowed breathing indicated that you had fallen asleep at last and Leona propped himself up on his right elbow to press a kiss to your forehead. Get well soon, herbivore…, he thought and gently caressed your cheek before getting up from the bed.

When you woke up, Leona was nowhere to be found. You tried calling out to him but he didn’t respond. Just as you sat up to scan the room for signs of where he might have gone, the door to Leona’s room opened. Your boyfriend entered and tossed his leather jacket loosely onto the desk chair. You hadn’t even woken up by him leaving.

“Where did you go?”, you asked curiously. “You’ll see”, Leona gave you a reassuring smile, “I got a surprise for you. But first, we should take a shower. It’ll do you good.” You rubbed your eyes in an exhausted motion and kicked the bedsheets off you. “Are you trying to say I smell bad?”, you groaned and Leona rolled his eyes. “No. The counselor they sent me to after I…uh…got a little too enthusiastic about winning the Spelldrive Tournament; well anyway, they said that sometimes a cold shower, a walk or somethin’ like that can already make a big difference in my mood or whatever”, he ran a hand through his hair. That’s a very mild way to say ‘overblotted’, you thought but refrained from commenting on it. “By the way, I got us food”, Leona handed you a bag with a bunch of meaty snacks, “I even got you a vegetable.” You reached inside the bag, inspecting the contents. “Leona, that’s just a whole cucumber.” “If ya don’t want it, I’ll give it to someone else, herbivore.” You glanced at him for a moment before starting to eat the cucumber. Not what you would have picked for lunch, but it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?

“Anyway, you comin’?”, he asked and gestured towards the bathroom. You nodded weakly before Leona went to grab some towels, but you didn’t find the energy to get up; scrolling through the same five apps on your phone again but having run out of anything new to look at. “Herbivore?”, Leona called out and entered his room again, to find you with one leg and one arm off the bed; trying to motivate yourself to just get up and join him. He sighed and grabbed a water bottle from the desk. “Your mandatory hydration”, he commented dryly as he handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow at him but drank quite a bit of it, finding that you’ve needed this after all. As soon as you had finished, Leona just picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, gently putting you down on the edge of the bathtub. 

“Thank you”, you sighed, grateful that Leona had done for you what felt like it’d take you another 30 minutes. When you stepped into the shower, you wrapped your arms around Leona’s waist and rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes once more as you let the water run over you. “It’s cold”, you complained as Leona took care of everything for you. “It’s supposed to be, genius”, he mumbled as he applied the shower gel to your skin, “otherwise you’d probably fall right back asleep and wake up feeling even worse. Trust me, I know.” The last sentence was nothing more but a quiet whisper but you picked up on it anyway. 

You remembered the past few days and how you could hardly tell what happened on which day of the week because they all seemed to blend into one another like a never ending loop of mediocrity. You remembered the stress and your worries for the future. And suddenly you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Quiet sobs left your lips and Leona’s ears instantly perked up at the signs of distress coming from you. 

You gasped in surprise as you were met with the cold water from the shower head directly into your face. “What the fuck, Leona?”, you hissed. “It got you to stop sobbin’”, Leona shrugged and you noticed that he was right; you were becoming aware of your surroundings again and your breathing calmed down a bit. Leona lifted your chin up and looked into your eyes. “I love you, herbivore. So cheer up. Don’t make me worry so much, alright?”, he said and patted your head.

He hugged you from behind and his voice became softer as he nuzzled your neck. “I love you so much. Don’t forget that, okay?”, he whispered and pressed kisses to your cheek and your neck repeatedly until you had stopped crying, “I can’t stand to see you like this.” To see you like me, he thought but kept that to himself. “I hope I can lift your mood a little”, Leona gave you that soft smile only you got to see and kissed your lips gently.

Once you stepped out of the shower, you felt refreshed and already a lot better than before. You helped Leona dry off his hair, a smile finding its way to your face when you saw how the water pearled off his ears and how they flicked when you were rubbing them with the towel. This didn’t go unnoticed by Leona. He crossed his arms with an annoyed expression. “Why is it that when you feel like shit and you smile for the first time again, it’s always from treatin’ me like an oversized cat?”, you could hear the pouting tone in his voice and a chuckle escaped you. “You’re cute”, you smirked and booped his nose. “Stop that”, he warned but leaned into your touch immediately when you started to caress his ears with your fingertips, sighing softly, "the things I put up with to see you happy..."

“So, what was that surprise you wanted to show me?”, you asked once the two of you had gotten dressed again. “Put on a jacket. Something warm”, Leona grabbed a small backpack and you could hear the jingling of keys, “we’re gonna go on a small trip.” Curious about where he would take you, you followed him out of the dorm. Outside of the Hall of Mirrors, Leona gestured towards a Magical Wheel which had been parked at the side of the building. “I rented that one while you were slumbering”, he tossed you a helmet and smirked at you, “hold on tight or I might just lose you and never look back.” You poked his side in response to his teasing.

“You should put on a helmet too”, you crossed your arms. “I’ll be fine”, Leona said, putting the key into the engine and starting up the vehicle. “Leona.” “Fine, I’ll wear the damn helmet”, he rolled his eyes and then grinned at you, “I’ll keep it on for the rest of the day and watch you complain that you’re not getting any kisses.” You sighed but got onto the vehicle behind him after Leona had put on his helmet. You wrapped your arms around Leona's waist, trying to adjust to the movement of the Magical Wheel. It was a little intimidating at first, given how different it was to a regular car; but Leona kept you safe and even though he teased you a little, you could tell he made sure not to drive any faster than you were comfortable with.

As you made your way down the path on the hill that Night Raven College was located on, you could see the village on the island as well as the ocean; the light of the sun now seemed a lot softer and bearable than it had been about an hour ago. You could feel the pressure of the wind as Leona drove the vehicle across the island, giving you the scenic tour of the area. 

The two of you stopped by the lake and the forest for short breaks, laying down in the grass next to each other while gazing up at the vibrant green of the trees and the red apples that grew on them. You could hear the humming of the birds and watched the clouds pass by. “That one looks like you”, you pointed at one and poked Leona. “How the fuck does that look like me?”, the second prince raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning your overactive imagination. “It’s pretty”, you just shrugged and Leona leaned over you, smirking and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I can live with that answer”, he chuckled and his ears twitched while he did this. 

You kissed his lips gently and could feel Leona smile into the kiss. 

The sinking feeling in your chest you had felt for the whole day wasn’t fully gone yet, but every new thing you saw and every word Leona spoke to distract you seemed to soothe the pain a little and made it something you could deal with and overlook with ease. 

Your final stop was the beach near Royal Sword Academy. The sun was already beginning to set and you had taken your shoes off to walk along the shore, holding Leona’s hand. He squeezed it gently and gave you a reassuring smile, as if to tell you silently that things were going to be okay eventually. You’d figure things out together. 

He then grabbed your hand and took a bite out of the hot dog you had bought for yourself. “Hey”, you protested and Leona smirked at you. “Sorry herbivore…but surely you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “take some pity on me, the bird took mine.” He gestured towards the seagull in a couple meters distance, picking at Leona’s meal that it had stolen from him. “Prince Leona Kingscholar, king of the beasts, bested by the common seagull”, you exclaimed with a false notion of drama and tragedy in your voice. “I could grill that little bastard here and now if I wanted to”, he crossed his arms and furrowed his brows, “I decided to have some mercy today.” “Sure”, you laughed and raised your eyebrows. 

The waves crashing onto the shore felt cold when they met the skin of your feet but in a way the sensation also helped to ground you. “Feeling better?”, Leona asked and you could hear worry in his voice; something he only felt comfortable showing around you. “A little”, you nodded and picked up a seashell from the sand, inspecting it as you turned it in your hand. “Do you feel ready to go back to the dorm?” You hesitated for a moment, then shook your head. 

Leona sat down in the sand, pulling you onto his lap and resting his head against yours as the two of you watched the sunset together. “That’s fine by me”, he said, wrapping his tail around you, “we can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t mind.”

You remained silent for a while, running your fingers along Leona’s tail absentmindedly. “I love you”, you whispered and leaned back against his chest. “I love you too”, Leona said quietly, closing his eyes as the wind brushed through his hair and the sunset made his skin feel a comforting warmth. Things weren’t easy on days like these. But both of you knew, come what may, you always had each other to lean on. Things had changed from the days of being alone with your thoughts and having to sort out your feelings by yourself. Whenever one of you was feeling down, the other usually found the strength to get up and drag both of you to a place that gave you comfort. 

“You know, I think I’m going to keep the ride for a while”, Leona nodded towards the Magical Wheel with a smile on his face, “nothin’ much to see here after 3 years of being on this island but I’ll make it work.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Leona”, you whispered and squeezed his hand, "for everything."

[ikamigami]

This is one long post about latest sams, laes and mgafs episodes full of theories and analysises.

So, first things first, Moon.

I'm leaning more towards that Moon is infected with Ruin's virus. And I think that he injected it into himself after he told Sun he'd do that. And I think that Ruin's virus works similarly to kill code. And previously Old Moon's kill code was activating slowly before it fully activated. Now the virus was also activating slowly. We could see that Moon was more aggressive but in a way that he immediately wanted to kill someone. He wasn't just simply more snapish or anything he just immediately wanted to kill. We could see that with Molten Freddy.

I think that the stress from grief and constant work to find a way to bring Solar back and lack of sleep helped with accelaration of the process of activation of virus. I know that when kill code was activating it caused Old Moon burning pain but I wouldn't be surprised if Moon didn't notice that because he was tired and depressed. He could possibly think that his head hurts because of these things. And tbh if I remember correctly Moon said something about his head hurting before he went insane (correct me if I'm wrong though).

Ruin's virus makes someone more violent and murderous. And it definitely makes someone less sympathetic from what we've seen. Which definitely wouldn't mix well with Moon's personality because he's pretty self-centered. And the way Moon acts as of recent it's more than likely that he's infected with Ruin's virus. He doesn't have any empathy, sympathy and remorse. He's more violent and murderous. He's impulsive which is also caused by a virus because it makes someone act on impulses from what we've seen.

I just strongly doubt that Moon would completely stopped caring if even in the worst Old Moon still cared about Sun. Hence why I think that Moon is infected with Ruin's virus. The only other option is that creator did what he said he'll do. He said that he'll come at some point to "fix" kill code's issue which probably means that he'd give it to Moon once again. Also I don't think that Dark Sun did anything to Moon because we saw that even if he hates Moons he still helped our Moon probably for Sun's sake. Because to me it seems that Dark Sun cares about Sun in his own way. Hence why I doubt that he'd cause Moon to become "insane".

Second thing, Ruin.

Ruin seems to want to help. Though I'm still not sure if he's doing it to atone or he's just simply scared of Dark Sun and needs alliance in order to be protected and potentially team up with others to defeat Dark Sun. After all, it's hard to believe a liar especially as good as Ruin. If Ruin didn't have a minor slip ups I think that no one would be able to say that he was lying. His lies were very believable. He truly is an actor. Though if Ruin will continue being trustworthy and keep helping, I think that I may give him a chance. But I still think that he should be punished for the atrocious crime he did cause after all, he killed trillions of innocent lives. At least now Ruin is on our side and he'll try to help stopping Dark Sun.

Third thing, Dark Sun.

Even if I said that Dark Sun cares about our Sun, I doubt that he's a good guy unless he's actually trying to stop someone else who may turn out to be a so called bad guy. But about that later. So Dark Sun is a genius. He definitely is pulling the strings behind the scenes. But for now we don't know why he's doing this. For now we can only say that Dark Sun isn't wrong for trying to stop Moon from sacrificing someone to bring Solar back. After all, we know that it'd be a bad thing for whole universe. I think that Dark Sun will visit Moon and he'll probably laugh at him and tell him that he should've take his advice on how to get rid of his enemies. After all, he offered Moon these informations but Moon being Moon just couldn't accept anyone's help. I have a feeling that Dark Sun won't be happy with Moon. I was thinking about it a lot and I came to conclusion that even if normally he'd enjoy seeing Moon losing his mind, I think that he won't this time because he seems to care about our Sun.

Fourth thing, Earth.

Earth definitely won't be okay after this. She not only tried to kill Bloodmoon to defend herself and Monty but she almost died killed by Moon, her own brother. It's a lot to process. Earth will definitely need a break and time for herself. Maybe she'll move in with Monty to their new house. Anyway, who knows what with Eclipse and if Eclipse will disappear Earth will be in even worse state. And what about Ruin? What if he'll continue helping them? Earth will have to deal with it despite still missing Solar who died because of Ruin's actions. Things don't look good for Earth.

Fifth thing, Eclipse.

Eclipse is dying. I don't want him to sacrifice himself for Solar but it seems highly likely to happen. But first he needs to figure out and rather quickly how to get rid of that thing Dark Sun put in him. He'll definitely be pissed at Moon for what he did to Earth and for almost killing her. I'm glad to see Eclipse trying to help as much as he can with this situation.

Sixth thing, Bloodmoon.

Even if Bloodmoon's death isn't surprising at all and his redemption was highly unlikely to happen the way he was handled was very harsh cold and cruel. Because Bloodmoon still seemed very affected by death of his twin. The way he was talking about his killings sounded like he was coping after death of his twin. After all, what Bloodmoon described with how he kills these families sounded exactly like what happened to him and his twin. He also sounded empty. He didn't seem to enjoy these killings. For me it seemed as if he was doing this because this is what he was always doing together with his twin. Also what's more devastating is the fact that Bloodmoon basically begged to be killed. Probably because the only person who cared about him is dead. No one gave two shits about Bloodmoon - beside Sun but it's not surprising that Bloodmoon didn't take Sun's offer of help. And also maybe Jack cause they seemed to have a good time together. They could've been friends. I can't count Foxy because for me his decision to not wanting to kill Bloodmoon seemed like a choice made on the whim.

Seventh thing, Foxy.

Foxy frustrates me a bit. He doesn't seem to care about the outcome of his decisions. Doesn't matter good or bad, he seems to not give a damn about it. I'm starting to think that Foxy is doing things to please Puppet because he seems to like her more than a friend. Hope that karma will get to him.

Eighth thing, Monty.

Even if Monty got what they deserved I still feel a bit bad for them. I just really have a like/hate relationship with them. Monty needs to rest and process a lot of things. Especially with what Moon did. It'd be better if Monty will take care of Earth and themselves. They need a good break.

Ninth thing, Lunar.

Poor Lunar. He not only has to deal with Astral Bodies and Taurus who wants them dead will be on Earth really soon but he'll also be devastated upon hearing what Moon did to Earth. He wanted to talk to Moon to understand him but now he'll be pissed, really pissed. I have a feeling that Taurus may order Lunar to kill Moon but I think that Moon may kidnap them and trade them to creator for Solar. This seems like a possible scenario. Though it'll depend on what Dark Sun will do with Moon and what Taurus has in store for Lunar. If things will go downhill I hope that Gemini will protect Lunar.

Tenth thing, Puppet.

I don't trust Puppet. Even more than Ruin. Why, you may ask. That's because Puppet seems to know more than others because she sees everything and she seems pretty powerful. And yet she didn't see that if she'll push Moon to bring Solar back it won't end up well. Unless she knew. And also why she waited so long to stop Moon? To make sure he hurt Earth in order to makes Sun's decision to kill Moon a lot easier? Cause to me it seems like that. Especially considering how much Puppet wants to kill Moon. I just find it suspicious. And I was wondering, what if Dark Sun tries to stop Puppet's plans? What if Puppet is actually a bad "guy" in all of this? I know that we can't trust Dark Sun's words fully but what he said about Puppet being a Joker of this universe doesn't sound good at all. And I can't help it but to notice the Puppet's resamblance to Stitchwraith.

Eleventh thing, Sun.

Sun will be devastated by the news that Moon not only used star's power to kill Bloodmoon but he also didn't care that it'd kill Earth and even if Puppet stopped Moon Earth was still harmed by the blast. Sun will definitely be angry but I still doubt that he'll let others kill Moon. I think that Sun may try to talk to Moon once again. I mean I think that they'll meet again sooner or later. I'm pretty sure that Sun will be in even worse mental state. Considering the things that are about to happen with Lunar and Dazzle. I think that Sun will die. Though I'm not exactly sure what will happen but I think that Dark Sun was telling the truth when he told Moon that Sun won't survive the aftermath of events. After all, we're still in aftermath of Solar's death. And I think that Sun's death will be a result of Moon's actions. But I think that Moon still cares about Sun. Same for Sun. He still cares about Moon. I just honestly don't think and can't even imagine that our Sun and Moon would stop caring and loving each other. Anyway, Sun will have a mental breakdown or another psychotic episode or both sooner or later. It's inevitable at this point.

And at last. Solar.

I think that Solar will come back. And I think that he'll be back as himself. But I think that he'll be retraumatised because of the circumstances sorrounding his return. I don't know when he'll be back though. But everything will be a mess, that's for sure.

I think that's all I wanted to say about the recent lore. You can add things that you think I forgot about or if you want to point out some errors in my theories and such.