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jar-of-maise · 8 months

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"Um Lyney," Paimon began, in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"Oh? It isn't like you to be so shy, please go on, what's on your mind?" Lyney asked, looking up at her curiously.

Paimon looked at Aether anxiously, then floated a little closer to him, shedding sparkles as she flew, "well, some of the kids were telling us about how you tell them about fairytales..." She begins.

"Ah!" Lyney snaps his fingers, "are you here to ask me to tell you some stories? Well why didn't you say so?" He hops up easily, gracefully revealing several embossed hardcover books which fall out of his hat.

"Take a pick! There are many here, don't be shy," Lyney says cheerfully, showing the books off happily, "this one is a personal favourite," he winks at Aether.

The cover is of a golden-haired prince, drawing a sword from his sheath, sparkles dance around his figure. White armour adorns his strong figure. "It's a pretty cover...but," Paimon begins, raising a finger.

Lyney raises his eyebrows, "oh? Not to your taste? That's alright," he twirls the book around on his fingers, then tosses it up in the air, where it disappears after a sharp snap of his fingers.

"How about this one? It's about a mermaid and her journey to the human world," Lyney offers, smiling at Paimon and Aether as he shows them the book.

"Well, they're all very nice but–" Paimon tries again.

"Goodness! Have you always driven such a hard bargain?" Lyney asks comically, shaking his head, the books tumble down from his hands as he sighs in defeat.

"Lyney." Lynette says with a deadpan look on her face, "they probably want you to tell them a specific story."

"Yeah!" Paimon exclaims, "thank you Lynette!"

"No worries," Lynette says, crossing her arms and nodding, "my brother does have a habit of talking too much," she says, tail swishing side to side.

"Hey! I'm still here you know!" Lyney cries.

Lynettte fixes him with a very exasperated glare, "I know."

"Oh Lynette, how could you be so cruel to your dear brother?" Lyney whines, slumping, a few cards slipping out from underneath his hat. They fall sadly onto the ground, like limp autumn leaves.

"Um..." Aether begins, "we were hoping to hear about the story you created for the kids here," he says hopefully.

"The story...I made?" Lyney asks, perking up, "you want to hear my stories?" He asks in a tone so innocent that Aether can't help but feel endeared by his excitement.

"Yeah! Of course we do, you're a great storyteller Lyney!" Paimon cheers, "yeah!" Aether agrees, nodding vigorously.

"Well then," Lyney gathers his cards in one sweeping motion, shoving them back into his hat, "I can't disappoint my audience then, can I? Please take a seat, the show will be put on momentarily." Lyney grins, gesturing at the table in front of them.

"Please help yourself," Lynette says in a monotone voice as Paimon and Aether slid into their seats. She places her hat onto the table, and once she removes it, trays and plates of snacks appear magically.

"Wow! Thank you! Paimon's digging in then!"

Lynette nods, satisfied, she pours herself a cup of tea and takes a long sip from her cup.

"So Lyney," Paimon says to the magician, who's mumbling to himself as they help themselves.

"Hm? What's up?" Lyney asks curiously.

"The children here said that this story was called, 'The Thief's Hope' but, they also said that it has a sad ending," Paimon comments, "is that true?"

"Ah, you want to hear that story," Lyney says, there's an unreadable expression on his face, "well I wouldn't say it's that sad, uh, it's just not your typical fairytale."

"Yet the kids still love this story," Aether says, watching as Lyney puffs out his cheeks in slight disagreement.

"Yeah I don't really know why," Lyney laughs, slumping onto a nearby couch with a poof!

"Hey, at least that means you're a good story teller!" Paimon says comfortingly, nibbling on a cupcake as she talks.

"Perhaps," Lyney looks at Aether, then at Lynette. His eyes are wistful as he gazes at his hands silently. Outside, the rain was pouring ceaselessly. A cold wind brushed by and the water rapped on the windows. Lyney thought for a long time, then he just sighed fondly, fingers tracing a seam on his shorts before smiling brightly at Aether and Paimon.

“Alright! Let me tell you the story!” He jumps up from the chair and bows deeply, “Lynette, if you would please,” he bows towards his sister who sighs, “fine," she says.

Lynette snaps her fingers and just like magic, a large backdrop appears behind Lyney, Paimon gasps in surprise and Aether leans forward curiously. It’s a depiction of the Fontaine streets, and the desolate piece of artwork is crafted with life-like accuracy.

“Allow me to take you back in time,” Lyney steps forth, a hand tucked behind his back as he twirls his hat on his fingers.

“There once lived a young boy, he was very poor and often worried about when his next meal would come by,” Lyney snapped his fingers and a little doll fell down from somewhere above his head, it was neatly stitched together, yet dirty and battered as though it had been abused and never loved.

Lyney smiled and nodded at Lynette who waved her hand. A spotlight shone onto the makeshift “stage” focusing on the tiny doll who picked himself up and began to walk around.

“He was often bullied, looked down upon and slowly, he found himself pushed to the darkest streets, where the light did not fall,” as he spoke, Lyney flicked his fingers, they appeared as dark, long shadows on the harsh light of the backdrop and the doll was flung away.

“But he never forgot what being in the light felt like,” Lyney’s voice echoed from somewhere, like a omnipresent narrator. As he spoke, the little doll picked itself up and began to stumble slowly towards the audience, “he longed to go back, there was a hole in his heart that he wanted to fill. A void that was as dark as the night sky.”

The inky blackness that suddenly filled the stage was so desperate and suffocating that Paimon audibly gasped. No light shone, indeed, it seemed as though even the oxygen was being removed from their lungs. Aether wondered if this too, was a part of the magic.

"He tried to fill his heart with the scraps that littered the streets," Lyney's voice began to speak again, "he hoarded those little things zealously, even they had no love for him and he had no love for them."

A small pinprick of light appeared on the stage and focused on Lyney's figure, he stood in the centre, with a grave expression on his face.

"His fingers were nimble and his feet too, were agile," Lyney smiled, a small doll appearing on his hand.

"He took the memories and love of others, he tried to light up the darkness in his heart with the light and warmth of others." Lyney procured a candle, "but he could not chase away the cold in his heart, nor could he brighten any corner of that room, for it was locked!"

Lynette grimanced into her cup, but begrudgingly waved her hand. The flame of the candle died out as she waved her hand and Lyney smiled widely.

"How should I light up this dark heart?" Lyney walked across the stage, making a thoughtful expression, "Ah! The boy realised something, when he was wandering the streets one day!"

Lyney smiles, carefully placing the doll down, "people crave the unknown, they are fascinated by fantasy…and what better way to achieve that than–” a sudden burst of streamers erupted from behind his back, “magic?”

The backdrop changed, it was a light and happy scene, where the doll reappeared, looking much cleaner and put together, the doll was surrounded by other dolls, they were smiling at him.

"If I can't love myself...and I can't take it from others, what if I made them give it to me? That was what the thief thought," Lyney grinned, blowing a shower of confetti hearts at his audience.

Aether smiled slightly when some of the paper brushed his cheek.

"So he began to try and perform, with the few skills he had learned from stealing. No matter how he tried to mask his true self, this boy was a thief," Lyney pointed at the heinous doll with an accusatory finger.

"The truth was that he was a thief, and that all his story-truths were lies." Lyney declared.

Aether and Paimon smiled knowingly, Lynette helped herself to a muffin. She was enjoying the chance to enjoy as many treats as she could.

“So the thief had finally found something that could fill up his empty heart," Lyney kept talking, "but still, the feeling of emptiness persisted. So he kept performing, kept going, just to chase that feeing," butterflies flew out from Lyney's finger tips as he spoke.

“The treacherous thief lied his way to the top. He tricked people ceaselessly, putting on a show that the masses would love. Lies were piled up on falsehoods. The thief could no longer return to the shadows of his past."

Lyney made a shape with him fingers where the light reflected it's shadow onto the backdrop, "The Thief looked down at the world from on top of the tower he’d built. It was exquisitely crafted, held together by fabricated illusions. He was a sinner, a devil who’d escaped from hell who was undeserving of the light he had gained."

Aether's eyes narrowed slightly, he sipped some tea but listened attentively, Lyney noticed this change, smiling to himself he thought, 'ah he gets it.'

Lyney kept talking, "Like a famous actor, the parts that he had to play continued to increase. People’s lives were entrusted to his hands at night, and in the daytime, he stole people’s hearts. He had never been bested and life itself, was the stage for his craft.

He sat under the night sky one lonely evening, gazing out into the inky darkness. The thief looked at the stars, they had always sparkled so beautifully, untouched by pain or sorrow. He wanted that light, even though he knew he could never emulate that gentle radiance.

That was when he met her,” Lyney’s voice took on a reminiscing tone and suddenly Aether was seized by a strange thought, was this just a mere story? He had no time to ponder this question, because Lyney was moving onto the next part of the story.

”Who was she?" Lyney wondered aloud, "well, perhaps she could be described like a burst of sunlight in a cold, frosty winter, or a wonderful flower blossoming in a wasteland...but no," he paused, "she was more than just those."

"She was the steady roll of waves on the ocean, she was the star that never left the night sky," it seemed like Lyney had forgotten his magic in that moment. He stood before them, as a performer still, but Aether realised that this was not only a story, but a reflection of Lyney himself.

"She was not words, she was a feeling," Lyney almost whispered to himself. Yet in the breathless silence that beheld the room, he may as well have shouted those words. Upon beholding this vulnerable side of Lyney, Aether couldn't help but smile sadly.

"The Thief was a certain kind of summertime sadness, one that spring couldn't cure," Lyney said slowly, withered petals falling with every step he took backward, away from the audience.

"He had no words that could describe her, for all the stories The Thief had spun, all the lies he'd said, there was no word he knew that could speak about the truth in her. But The Thief liked to call her mon armour," Lyney smiled bitterly, there was a hatred in the way he uttered those words.

Aether was taken back, but he didn't know why Lyney seemed to dislike those last few words so much.

"Her presence was gentle, yet searing. To The Thief who couldn't remember hugs or caresses, her touches was an uncomfortable, addicting burn."

Sitting in the audience, Lynette looked at her reflection in her cup sadly. This, was his way of atoning for lies, by weaving truths into his stories so that he might not spin falsehoods. She knew Lyney better than anyone else, to most this was obvious, but they didn't know about the hopes of her older brother. Past his light, and his shadow, was a young boy who loved to love and be loved.

That, was also a kind of truth.

"This Thief," Lyney murmured, "he was a haunted house, hollow from inside to out, plagued by a restless soul that was more focused on destroying the construct that kept it existing than anything else. Every now and then, a wind would rush through and open half-closed, weeping wounds.

The people who sojourned in this house did not help the soul, they loved only the mystery, the romance, the unattainable nature of his performance. And often left the house shabbier than when they first entered.

But not mon armour, she came in, like a little ghost. Planting purple wisteria in his mind, with wonderful trees that entwined their roots around the house and bound him to the earth. Camomile grew from his scars, moss and dewdrops patched his wounds.

She planted gardens of lavender in his mind, so that his anxiety might be soothed.

If there was anyone that might make him feel like life was worth living on, it would be her. A gentle love, that didn't demand. How funny, The Thief had never once known how to care, he did not think about the emotion itself. Never committed." Lyney nodded, though Aether didn't know if he was talking to himself or his audience.

"Yet he tried, loving was clumsy. He couldn't make sense of the lines he was meant to colour inside and often scribbled outside of those boundaries. But at least, he was less transient, and more of a home now." Lyney drifted off into his own thoughts, "my love, what a wonderful name, if only..."

Aether lets him mumble to himself, Paimon also floats over to him with a soft, melancholic smile. "Poor Lyney..." she says quietly, "the story must mean a lot to him."

"I think there was a bit more than just that," Aether comments, but refrains from saying some of his other thoughts, knowing Paimon would just freak out.

"My brother finds it hard to express himself," Lynette chips in, "thank you for listening to him," she bows her head.

"It's okay, please tell him that we'd listen to him anytime!" Paimon exclaims waving her hands.

"Thank you, I will."

"I know you're not much of a talker, but we'll also listen to you, if you need it," Aether says, smiling brightly at Lynette, who gives him a little smile in response.

"I will cherish that offer." She says, "honestly," she adds, looking at Lyney with a half-endearing, half-fond and equal parts exasperated expression, "for someone who insists he's unlovable, loving sure comes easily to him."

"He has a lot to give," Aether says kindly, Lyney is quiet, a broken piece of cermanic-ware, so fractured yet so well patched up he looks new. Aether is glad he has something to hope for.

"Lyney loves like he breathes but treats it like it's cancer," Lynette replies, "when he first realised he was infatuated he said he got a heart stroke. Yet if loving really was a disease, he'd hope he'd never recover from his illness" Lynette takes a sip of tea and rolls her eyes gracefully. "In that sense, he's utterly hopeless,"

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fire-lizard-ro · 14 days

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Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine

So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.

Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.

Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-

Anyways I will try my best.

Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶

I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.

It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!

No gender is mentioned for the reader.

CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶

Writing under the cut (SFW):

You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.

Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.

You picked up the phone.

“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.

“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.

You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”

You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.

The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.

Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.

“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”

“Seems it’s working, then.”

It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.

And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.

“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”

A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.

“Hiya, darling dearest~”

“Aventurine.”

“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”

You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.

“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”

Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”

He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.

“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”

Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.

You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”

He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.

“Kakavasha.”

“What?”

“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.

“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”

“And I love you, sweetheart.”

#roro writes #asks answered #gn reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine x gn reader #ew I’m a SAP #I had to give him a good ending like come ON #my lil Aven 🥺🥺🥺#if this is all over the place and talking in circles #then my apologies big dawg #LMFAO-#it’s like 2 in the morning I speed wrote this

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hiding-in-the-vault · 2 months

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isnt this whole wilbur thing a huge warning sign against getting too attached to ccs, because we can never truly know them? why are we celebrating a few fans putting /150/ dollars + whatever the commission fee for the artist was into a birthday present for a guy who just.. doesnt know them? its not like merch or supporting a creator, its literally money in the wind. between this and merch dropping like clockwork but sapnap being the only one actually doing content (and hes clearly just doing it for the kick quota.. sorry but the streams are so lackluster), im getting really disillusioned with the dream team. theyre literally just coasted by because of a hyperdedicated fanbase they dont really seem to give a shit about. people talk about how amazing and kind they are but are they really? we dont know. why are we monetarily supporting millionaires its literally just charity but for rich people at this point, they dont provide any value in exchange. i think people should really consider why theyd rather drop ~180 dollars on a billboard for a rando instead of charity or buying something they want or need. sorry idk i just feel fed up with how much time and money and love i poured into these guys and in response were getting nothing. sapnap didnt even bother to denounce the abuser he used to interact with. i could have donated and actually helped someone instead of buying a fucking hoodie i cant even wear to school because id get bullied.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a little wake up call. They are just some guys that stream and make videos. You’d think the last few Situations™ would teach people to simply not put cc’s on pedestals and expect perfection from them. But you must realize that if you’re going to argue against people giving cc’s money, then you need to go all the way back to every single sub and donation they’ve gotten through twitch as well. It’s always been a luxury some choose to do because they get something out of it. They were never forced or tricked into doing it. And I don’t know how the Sapnap billboard was funded, but I donated to the George b-day billboard. Gave up $5 because I thought it was a fun community idea, and it did not impact my ability to donate or buy things I needed. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that. It’s not a streamer's fault that you chose to spend money on them instead of donating.

If you’re upset by the lack of content, then entertain yourself with something else. People have been saying that for ages. If you think their intention is to continue promising content and never delivering just to squeeze money out of fans, then leave. I personally don’t believe that.

Dream believes he does owe us content, but we don’t get to decide when it comes. And you don’t have to give them a dime for it.

#vault talks #discourse #sorry if im a little blunt. i dont usually get anons like this lol #and yeah school kids can be mean :( im glad i didnt have to worry about this when i was in high school #if it helps at all. i wear my blindingly neon green dream hoodie out sometimes and no one has cared in the adult world #but anyway. i dont like to entertain regret. one day they will fully retire and that wont take value from anything they made before that #even if youre unsatisfied right now dont let that effect the good times youve had prior #edit: forgot to add: in case anon still sees:#also let’s not pretend sap and wil were ever close lol #geor.ge was the closest to him out of the three and he hasn’t said anything either. and he doesn’t need to. it’s gotta be hard :/#look at poor to.mmy #demanding responses is not the way

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