#but STILL! objectively you have to hear me out

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐤

Paring: Mentor!Lilia Calderu x Reader

Summary: With volatile and unpredictable magic you never know what can happen.

A/N: Still grasping how to write Lilia, so I hope it’s in character!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

I hope you guys like it, let me know!!

Warning: Accidental magic, magic cock, blow jobs, vaginal sex, creampie, large dick.

Word count: 3.7k

Date: Nov 09, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

Tag list: @yourbasicqueerie @mgruiz @yippie-kai-gay @confuseuniverse @aggieharkness @liliasgirl @thesharkwhalewhoohooooo @walkethisway @honkhonktheslutshere @ratsnestinmyhair @audreylise @kenzie-floops @pattiluponespopcornmaker @moonlightprincess696 @trindad2k @etherynn @astrxinze

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The kettle makes a hissing sound, the boiling herbs fill the room with a sweet scent and the morning sun shines into the stove. The gray haired witch hums a tune under her breath and walks around the room, collecting more ingredients for the tea. She feels freshness in the air, an inkling that something good is about to happen. 

Sundays are always calm, she closes up the shop for the day and entertains her apprentice. You’ve been working under Lilia’s guidance for a month, being the only witch in your family meant that no one could teach you. You were lucky enough to stumble upon her one day when browsing on your computer. 

You aren’t a divination witch, you still don’t know what your deal is, but your magic is volatile and unpredictable. Lilia teaches you with the best of her abilities, and that is more than you could ask for, you look up to her and dream of reaching her level of wisdom. 

As you enter the shop, you hear her moving around in the back. Walking into the room, you halt when the tarot reader stops in her tracks. Her entire body freezes and she lets out an unrestrained moan in the middle of the kitchen. 

Pursing your lips, you wait for her ‘episode’ to end.

“Hi.” You let out timidly, standing by the bead curtain. 

She turns around, wide eyed and arms raised in the air. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned. 

She waves you off with a flick of her hands, facing the stove once again. Her visions always seem to sour her mood and leave you anxious, more times than not, she doesn’t know what they mean.

Passing the strap of your bag over your head, you place it on the squared table before heading to the counter. Resting your hip against it, you observe Lilia grab the kettle with a towel clad hand. 

“Do you want some tea, doll?” She pours it in two mugs before waiting for an answer, you nod either way. 

She passes you the ceramic cup and you rapidly grab into the handle when it burns you. The aroma hits your nose and you groan. Lilia always makes the best beverages and this time you smell a blend of lavender, lemongrass, and a few other herbs you couldn’t quite identify. The taste is as divine as the scent. 

“How have you been this week?” She leans next to you. 

“I’ve been fine.” You tell her uncertainty and amends. “There have been a few accidents…nothing I couldn’t handle, though.” 

She hums into the mug as she takes a sip. 

“And those ‘accidents’ were?” She probes.

Swallowing the liquid, you hide your face behind the cup.

“Okay. Let's start then. The sooner you can control your magic the better.” She walks past you, her robe fluttering behind her. 

Leaving the empty cup in the sink, you follow her to the middle of the room. 

“Did you practice what I told you?” She asks patiently. 

“Hum…” You hesitate. “I did.”

“And?” All her weight shifts to one leg as she places a hand on her waist.

“Well, it worked!” You exclaim, trying to lay her off. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “To a certain extent…”

“Okay.” She takes a breath in and straightens her spine, arms at her side. “Show me.” 

Transfiguration. 

You’ve moved beyond learning how to change the corporeal form of an object, and have now evolved to modifying the physical appearance of yourself and others. What she’s teaching is pretty basic, but for someone who didn’t know she was a witch for most of her life, it’s hard to grasp, especially with a temperamental magic like yours.

Closing your eyes and concentrating, you feel goosebumps rise up on your skin as your magic flows through you. When your powers are under control, they feel like a waterfall being released, spreading over your body and consuming you. Outbursts were a very different story.

Opening your eyes, you see your mentor gently smiling at you. 

“Good, that’s good.” She praises, and you break into a huge grin. 

Receiving her approval is something that always warms your insides. 

Grabbing your hairs ends, you observe the change in color. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was enough for you to see your improvement. You turn the purple strands back to their natural color. 

“Great. My turn.” She says encouragingly. 

Pressing your tongue against your lips, you grimace at her.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“You have to learn.” She tells you firmly before adding. “As a witch, you must know how to defend yourself.”

You blink at her. 

“Relax, baby. Anything you throw at me I can reverse.” 

Your brain short circuits at the pet name.

That was probably your downfall. Lilia always tells you true witchcraft takes time and concentration, especially for beginners. 

Her expectant face makes you close your eyes, and let the magic flow through you again, but this time it's different. Your head thinks of nothing else besides Lilia’s voice and how she called you, you can’t focus on your intention and you feel the spell going wrong before it’s completely finished. In an attempt to join your jumbled thoughts and the power running over your skin, you imagine Lilia with longer fingers. 

It doesn't seem to work because in a few seconds you hear a screech.

“Divine Mother.” 

Peaking through one eye, you first glance at her face, her reaction making you expect a major change in her appearance. She looks the same, her hair still tied up, her nose doesn’t look bigger like some sort of wicked witch and her eyes remain the same color, the only thing you notice is her shock. 

Her arms are raised breast level and that’s the next thing you look at. Expecting sausage like fingers, you’re surprised when you’re met with her usual handful of rings. 

“What?” You frown. 

Your gaze drifts over her figure and that’s when you notice the bulge in her skirt. 

Squinting, you almost crouch down to get a closer look. The thing is huge, cylindrical and pressing forward, clearly constricted by something. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what’s in front of you and you stare long enough for Lilia to clear her throat. You glance up and it dawns on you. Oh, god. 

“What were you thinking when you did the spell?” You gape like a fish out of water.

Was she honestly continuing the lesson as if this wasn’t happening?

“Well, I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that.” You gesticulate widely, a blush rising in your cheeks. 

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sways. The movement makes her skirt brush against the hard on and you gulp when your vision is automatically drawn to it.

“Concentrate.” She tells you firmly and you meet her eyes, pursing your lips.

“Why are you losing? That’s a simple transfiguration spell, you can undo it. You just told me that!” 

“No, it isn’t.” She speaks calmly, noticing she’s making you anxious. “This is a magical penis, a much more advanced incantation. You shouldn’t be able to do this at this stage.”

“Okay…?”

“There’s no way I can make this go away.” She speaks to you like someone does to a child. 

“What?” You ask, agitated. 

“Advanced magic, harder to undo.” She tells you simply. “There’s only two ways to get rid of it. The caster has to be the one to take it away.”

“Well, let's do it. It’s not that difficult, right? I’ve already put it there.” You respond with renewed energy, waving at her crotch.

This is not going to be a bigger problem than it should. 

“No, it’s not easy. You did this by accident.” Your sight strays to it again and it looks like it’s staring right back at you. “You need to focus this time, so you can do it consciously.” 

You hum absently before closing your eyes. The problem is: the image of that monster is buried in your brain. You focus on it, but the only thing that crosses your mind is its size, what it would be like to have it throbbing in your hands, pounding into you...

“Stop, stop, stop.” Lilia huffs in front of you, turning around and sitting on the armchair.

“What, what is it?” You follow her and stand by her side, she rests her forehead on her propped hand, eyes closed.

“You made it bigger.” She tells you pointedly. 

The penis really does seem magic, it hypnotizes you and you can’t take your eyes off it. Whenever you notice Lilia isn’t looking, you glance down, partially seeing the bulge covered by her dress and robe. 

Wetting your lips, you ask. “Well, what is the other way?” 

“Huh?” She’s clearly lost in thoughts. 

Moving to perch in front of her, you focus on her face. 

“You said there are two ways to get rid of it. We tried the first one, what is the second?” 

She presses her lips and you wait. 

“It needs…release.”

“Oh.” You slowly back away towards the door. “I’ll leave and you can…y’know?” You finish by making a lewd motion. 

She narrows her eyes, you stop dead in your treks. A small breeze fills the room as you linger, sensing there’s something more.

“It needs to be sheathed.” She pauses. “Climax inside something.”

You take a deep breath before asking. “Is there…Is there someone who can help you?” 

God, you didn’t know anything about her personal life. Meeting every sunday meant you’ve only seen each other about four times, and there couldn’t be a worse situation to ask her that. 

“No.” She tells you and, by the way she answers, you refrain from making any more questions. 

The morning sun shines over the room, in the distance you hear cars passing by on the street and the silence hangs as you stare at each other. 

You are embarrassed to admit, but it doesn’t take long for you to reach a decision. As much as you try to fool yourself by claiming that you wanted to help because you were the one who put her in this situation, you know it’s bullshit. Lilia has you on her hands, you’ve been attracted to her from the start and there weren't enough words to describe what she does to you. 

Watching as she looks up, praying to her goddess, you move. She brings her head down to follow you with her eyes as you kneel in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” She asks you seriously. 

“I’m helping you.” You respond, lightly placing your hands on her calves. 

Her palm rests on your cheek and you lean into it. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

“I want to do it. It's my fault you’re like this.” Seeing the hesitation in her face, you grab her wrist. “Please, let me.” 

She stares you down and gives you a tight smile. 

“I- Are you sure?” 

You nod more excitedly than you should, the eagerness accidently showing on your face. 

She doesn’t say anything else, so you take it as a ‘yes’. Her body is leaning forward, her elbows resting on the arms of the reclining chair and you feel how tense she is. The bulge is right in your face and with trembling hands you roll up her skirt. 

The gasp that leaves you is involuntary. Butchin her dress at the waist, you take a moment to look at it. It’s mostly constricted by her underwear, but you can clearly see how big it is. You take a deep breath before pulling her panties down.

You stare open mouthed. The length is as white as her skin, the head is a light pink and a few gray hairs dust her balls. It weirdly matches her and stands proudly in front of you. The hard on seems painful. 

A monster indeed.

“This looks uncomfortable.” You mumble, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“It is.” A constrained chuckle follows the statement. 

Biting your lips, you wonder how to approach this. You’ve never been a blowjob type of girl, when you used to date men you always avoided as much as you could, and even when you did it, it wasn’t enjoyable. This feels different, though. Your underwear is already wet just by thinking about it. 

Your mentor clears her throat and you peer up at her. 

“You don’t have to do this.” Her hand runs through your hair. 

“Lilia, relax.” You tell her forcefully and grab her thighs. 

One of your hands circles it and her hips buckle, palms fly back to the armchair and nails bite into the fabric as you slowly start to move. By the way it looks, it won’t take long for her to come and a feeling of disappointment dawns on you. It makes sense for a magical penis to be ready for action, but you wish you could take your time with it.

Running your thumb from the base all the way to the head, you collect the pre-cum in there before pushing it back and making the same path with your tongue. Lilia groans and you feel her tension melting a notch. You replace your fingers with your mouth, licking the bead before swallowing it whole. 

It doesn’t take a genius to notice that this thing isn’t going down your throat without choking you, so you focus on what you can do. Taking as much as you can, you make up for the rest with an unclosed fist, using just the right amount of pressure so as to not hurt her. 

Sucking tentatively, you hear a moan and look up. Lilia’s eyes are close, mouth open as her chest rises rhythmically with her anticipated breath. Her fingers are white from the grip, and you realize she’s holding herself back from grabbing your head and forcing you down. 

You groan over the cock and bob around it, your palm going to her balls and massaging them. Eyes fixated, you watch her every reaction as she stiffens under you. 

You feel your arousal beneath your own skirt, it clings to your core and you refrain from using your free hand to touch yourself, compensating by placing your heel under you and matching the movement of your hips with the one of your head. 

Taking a moment to breathe, you feel hands sweeping through your bangs. Glancing up, your eyes meet your mentor’s and you blush when she grabs your hair like a ponytail, taking it out of your face. 

“You’re doing great, doll.” Her voice is husky, you squirm against your feet. 

God, this is not helping. 

You swallow at the praise and focus on your job. Still looking into her eyes, you descend and take it as much as it goes, swirling your tongue around it and bouncing as fast as you can. She tugs your hair harder and you whine against her skin, the vibration making her tear her eyes away as she throws her head back, letting out unrestrained moans as slurping sounds leave your mouth. 

Grinding your hips against your heel, you feel yourself getting wetter by the second and curse for having to take care of it alone. Her groin starts to move in its own accord, she doesn’t even seem to notice as her crotch drives up and harder into your mouth, you swallow and swallow against her, focusing on your breath and controlling the rhythm. She isn’t forcing your head, just holding it and that’s fine, it’s hot that she doesn’t want to hurt you.

Drool starts to drip down your chin and you moan louder against her, feeling the erratic movement against your clit picking up speed alongside your head. You close your eyes and take in both sensations. After all, it isn’t everyday that you get to suck your mentor’s dick. 

You force your head back and inhale deeply, the faster the movement, the harder it is to breathe. Your hand continues the work and the other one joins in, circling her head and pressing it. 

Pushing her cock closer to her skirt, you go down to her balls, sucking one into your mouth and sooner than you expected, her whole body tightens. She lets out a loud moan and her nails sink into your scalp, you quickly try to catch her climax in your mouth before it’s too late. 

An inch away, you feel a sticky consistency gushing onto your face, landing inside your mouth all the way up to your forehead. 

You grimace and lick your lips, tasting the saltiness of her cum. 

Passing your finger over your eyelids, you sculpt most of the liquid and open them when you hear a ‘thud’ above you. Lilia banging her head against the armchair. 

“Goddammit.” Her chest rises and falls with her erratic breath, there’s a red hue on her cheeks. 

“Sorry.” You mumble.

“It’s not your fault. I should have warned you.” She looks down and shock flashes across her face. 

You must be quite an image with cum stuck in your hair and dripping down your face. She stares at you for a long time and you squirm, taking your heel out from under you before anything else happens. 

“We can try something else.” You whisper. 

“No, love. You’ve already helped more than you should. I don't want to force you a second time.” She runs her thumb over your cheek, vaguely attempting to tidy you up. 

“You didn’t force me, and I’ve told you before that I don’t mind.” Emphasizing your statement, you grab her wrist and bring her finger to your mouth, sucking, licking and moaning around it. 

Her pupils blow hide and she turns serious, following your movement as you stand up in front of her, lifting your short skirt and straddling her lap. 

She stares at you, eyes slightly wide and lips parted. The erection stands between you, a magic cock apparently only goes down once it services its purpose. Your wet underwear touches her thighs and a beat passes before you gather enough courage to lean forward. 

Grabbing her neck, you give her time to pull away. Surprising you, she grabs your wrists and pulls you forward, crashing your mouths together. Moaning, you let her tongue guide the rhythm, she makes slow movements, exploring your mouth like she wants to taste as much as she can. The kiss is languid and teasing, she takes her sweet time and you begin to rub your soaked core against her legs.

Separating, you watch as she licks her lips, looking at you like she wants to eat you alive. You brush your underwear against her cock and she groans, grabbing your waist. You’re so painfully turned on that you don’t even wait for her to say anything before you reach down and push your panties aside. 

Rubbing against the hard cock, you try coating it with as much of your wetness as you can. It’s been a while since you had anything this big inside you, if ever. It looks a lot bigger than the ones you’ve seen, your hand hadn’t closed around it before. 

It’s going to be a stretch. 

You take a deep breath before raising up on your knees, you brush the head against your entrance and Lilia’s grip hardens. Sinking down on the tip, you pause, licking your lips before continuing. You take it half way in before stopping. This shit wasn’t only wide, its length was something you had never seen before.

Noticing your struggle, the gray haired witch leans forward, attacking your neck and sliding your shirt straps down. Her hands run from your waist to your breast, her fingers pinch your nipples and you moan, feeling wetness stick to your thigh before your core swallows more of her skin. 

Slowly sitting, you feel your center stretching before your ass finally meets her balls. You halt, adjusting to the sting. Lilia’s work on your tits helps. Your spine is slightly curved as she grips your ribs and her mouth bites and sucks your chest. You feel hickeys forming in your neck and you can bet she did it on purpose, you’d have to walk around with those purple marks for about a week. 

She runs her tongue over your nipple while her hand massages your other breast. You begin to slowly grind your hips in circles motion, a vibration reverberating through your chest as she moans. 

Accepting the pain as pleasure, you lift yourself once and then lower. Your mentor stops her work and bites into your neck, hands gripping your waist tightly as she helps you with your movement. 

You’re so desperate that you can’t even tease her, after trying once, you continue, picking up speed with Lilia’s assistance. You’re both so aroused you can feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Throwing your head back, you moan without restrain, mirroring your mentor’s groans against your neck. Her arm circles your hip and she slams into you, meeting you halfway. 

Her cock is so big, you can feel it beating against your cervix and hitting all the right places as it fills you up. Her free hand goes down and finds your clit easily, rubbing in circular motions. You let out a cry and your movements become erratic, determinedly chasing your release as your walls grip her. 

She’s clearly holding back and when your movements become sloppy as your body goes rigid, she lets go. You both come together, ragged breaths mingling and sweat clinging to your foreheads. 

You feel her cum filling you up, the hot liquid doesn’t seem to stop and you kiss her once more as she spurts inside you. This time the kiss is faster, harder as you pull her hair and whine against her when she grabs your ass and accidentally rubs your clit against her skin. 

The cum starts to run down your thighs and wet the fabrics between you, her cock still throbs inside and you feel her balls shrinking in size. There’s an absurd amount of fluid and you groan against the kiss, the cum making you excited once again. 

Pulling back, you focus on the feeling of her cock decreasing inside you as it disappears, you instantly miss the feeling of fullness. 

Kissing her for a third time, you calmly run your tongue against hers as you replay all this morning's events. Thanking your magic for the mishap, your eyes widen when you remember something important. You pull back.

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you frown at her and whisper. 

“Should we have used a condom?” 

Her mouth drops open. 

[awkward-writes-shit]

Mercenaries x Reader on Laughing Gas who calls them handsome

In this order; Heavy, Medic, Spy, Sniper, Scout, Demoman, Engineer, Soldier, Pyro

Heavy

“You’re handsome…”

The man was too stunned to speak. Medic told him you were going to be real honest when under laughing gas, but he wants expecting THIS.

He finds you adorable like this. You’re absolutely smaller than him (Unless you’re a tall queen/ruler/king, in which we stan * finger snaps *) and carries you around until you’re able to think straight again.

10/10.

Medic

He puts you under just for fun because he finds you cute like this, so he’s gotten used to your loopy speech

“You’re handsome…” “Danke Taube.”

Still makes him giddy every time you compliment him though. Watches you stumble around the room like a toddler.

7/10

Spy

”You’re handsome…”

He knows. He appreciates it, but he knows.

“Merci. You’re a mess…”

Finds your loopy behaviour cute and slightly entertaining. Wouldn’t actively go out of his way to help you, but will keep an eye on you so you don’t end up killing yourself.

6/10

Sniper

“You’re handsome…”

He’s flustered immediately, does the awkward pulling hat down to cover the blush move.

“Thanks Sheila…”

Probably gonna get baby locked in his van due to him not wanting you to get hurt, but also having no idea how to care for you.

8/10

Scout

“You’re handsome…”

Stop inflating his ego, you’ve doomed the others for the next hour.

“YA’ HEAR THAT BUSH MAN?! MA GIRL THINKS I’M HANDSOME”

Bro probably puts you on one of those weird monkey leashes that you put bad kids on (Couldn’t be me…) and just watches you with so much entertainment.

8/10

Demoman

“You’re handsome…”

Dude’s drunk 24/7 so you’re basically the same person at this point.

“No, YER handsome… Beautiful… Pretty… Yeah…”

He’s constantly taking care of his mom, so you’re in good hands. No sharp objects, no fire, no Pyro, absolutely no Pyro, you’re safe.

10/10

Engineer

“You’re handsome…”

So much blush on that poor Texas man’s face.

“Aw… Thanks sweet pea… How ya’ feelin’?”

We stan a man who’s concerned about you. Keeps you in his workshop while he works. More than willing to explain to you what he’s doing like you’re 5.

10/10

Soldier

“You’re handsome…”

He’s a really loud person so everyone is going to know that you called him handsome.

“OF COURSE I’M HANDSOME! I AM THE GREATEST AMERICAN ON EARTH!”

Dude would have no idea what to do with you. Heavy just ends up taking care of you.

2/10

Pyro

“You’re handsome…”

‘Happy Pyro noises’

Definitely not the best at taking care of people, but in you’re loopy state, he’s amazing.

Y’all are absolutely gonna do stuff like colouring, playing with his unicorns, and absolutely cuddling.

[alexanderwales]

I finished rewatching Death Note. I always forget how short anime is, with episodes that aren't much more than 20 minutes when you skip the intro/outro.

I hadn't remembered how much of a sniveling wreck LIght was at the end of the show. There's something about the ending that makes it feel like it was written and directed by a different person, not that Light wasn't always a little weird and pathetic, and not that the show didn't consistently go out of its way to let us know what a piece of shit he was (particularly his absolute lack of loyalty or empathy to anyone, even aside from the megalomania). But he takes the loss like a loser, snot dripping from his nose, voice cracking, begging, and it's so pathetic that I almost felt a little sorry for him.

I've always found the Death Note to be a very interesting prompt, one of those hooks that's so good I'd want to watch it even if it was bad. But in writing something like Death Note, the author has to make decisions about what to show and what not to show, and also make decisions about how they're going to portray the public at large.

There are two big things that stand out for me.

One is that we never get someone arguing against Kira. We get people who are actively trying to hunt him down, but they're mostly not stopping to say "this is why what he's doing is wrong" except a few lines about how he has a childish sense of justice, which is never expounded upon. Kira, on the other hand, we hear a lot from, not just the megalomaniac stuff, but the notion that criminals must be punished, that this is what people desire in their hearts. I get the strong sense that L does not actually care and just views this as an interesting puzzle for him to solve, but for everyone else it's largely left as an exercise to the viewer, and even then, there are moments when some of our task force members come dangerously close to endorsement.

To the extent the show has an answer, it's that (to quote Kanye West) no one man should have all that power, or that Kira has crossed a lot of lines, but no one argues in favor of rehabilitation or clemency or just fundamental humanity. Kira seems to largely be killing prisoners, who have already been sentenced, and are wards of the state, and he says "this is what people want deep down, they will give you the politically correct answer but they actually want the criminal class to be obliterate", which ... there's no character who actually voices any opposition to through the whole series. And I find that weird, because yes, the show has its own answers in terms of how it plays out, but in a show filled with people possessed of immense conviction, most of the people in opposition to Kira are just intellectuals who don't actually give a shit about the ideological question.

(The one big moment when it comes to a head, IMO, is when Soichiro Yagami refuses to write Mello's name entirely because of his principled objection to killing someone. I thought this was great, and I wish the show had more of it.)

The other big thing is that we don't really get a viewpoint of the criminals, with a few exceptions. One is the is Yotsuba group, who are killing people with the Death Note, and the second is the (somehow still functional) mafia that Mello hangs out with. There's also one other scene somewhere after L's death where we see a criminal begging with the police not to have his name written down, and that's about it.

The naive view here is that the show really does believe in Criminals as being a part The Other, a different sort of human being who walk among us. The criminal class are described as rotten and evil, they're shown as grotesque and with exaggerated features or bestial characteristics, and they're generally leering and impulsive. There is no consideration of their humanity.

There's a more nuanced take here, which is that we have a criminal as one of our main cast, Light Yagami, along with everyone else who takes on the Kira mantle. So what is the show saying about criminality through how it portrays them? And here ... I don't know. I kind of don't think that it views them as criminals in the same way? When we look at the ways that Light kills, I genuinely do think that the show thinks that this is different from the way that a capital-C Criminals kill. It's reactionary rather than criminal in and of itself, a response to the injustices of the world rather than being in the same class as those injustices. Light is narratively exempted, and Misa is to. Which isn't to say that I think the show thinks highly of Light, it clearly doesn't, especially in its ending, but I almost think that in the end it Others him too (and also has Teru Mikami drawn in particularly 'evil' style, like a creepy deviant gremlin).

So I enjoyed the rewatch, but there are things that sit a little oddly with me as far as the central themes go. There's probably some discourse I should read that's come out since I first watched it in ... 2010 or whenever, but I think I'll give that a skip.

[sugar--brown]

Aw... sorry! Don't worry as the self-proclaimed queen of fluff, my focus is more on "how do I fix my blorbos?"

So! Imagine...

Nastya is floating into space aimlessly, alternating between hazy consciouness and death. She is just cold all the time now, space is pretty lifeless and lonely in comparaison of her family. Especially without her coat. She hasn't had a clear thought in years... or is it centuries?

Until she crashes on the windshield of a ship. Like a cute little space starfish. But not on any ship. On Silvana! Where Carmilla is currently the captain.

Turns out, Carmilla has found the little piece of metal with the numbers the cyberians had engraved on Aurora. She would never forget them. Ever. And of course, she was worried for her little moonshine!

So, when Carmilla had detected Nastya (don't ask how), she came to pick her up. What happened? Had she been airlocked? That was unusual, usually it was Toy Soldier who was the target...

It's hard to have answers from a popsicle Nastya, so Carmilla puts her daughter on bed rest until she is better. With lots of fluffy blankets and her favourite space hot chocolates.

But of course, Nastya is not going to be better. The moment her thoughts are clear enough, she shuts down. Because her life is over. Her Aurora is dead, she abandonned her family and band, her planet doesn't exist anymore, her relationship with her mom is rocky... what could she looks forward to?

After lot of soft persuasion, treats, and soothing songs, Carmilla is able to convince Nastya to at least explain what is going on in her head.

Nastya doesn't say "I'm scared of changes and organic beings in general because the first time I came in contact with them it traumatized me, so I snapped when the last bit of her homeplanet disappeared" because she is not aware that this is the problem. Instead she says to Carmilla the same thing she said to Jonny before shutting down again.

Carmilla is distressed to hear that, a love so pure and wonderful which lasted for milleniums couldn't shatter like this! Especially not between Aurora and Nastya. So, she goes to speak to Aurora. Nastya refusing to leave the Silvana.

Carmilla talks woth her oldest, in a way she never did before. It's raw, it's hard, but it's geniune. Carmilla talks about how Nastya still considers herself as cyberian, how herself had been negligent of the mechs' mental healths, how her relationship with Loreli went... Aurora also talks, which became small miracles lately. She talks about how she feels like Nastya loved her only because she had been abused and not because of who she was. She talks how hurt to realize that Nastya only saw her as a machine. She talks how she will never act as an organic being because it is wrong of her.

And oh boy! Carmilla and Aurora have a lot to talk about.

Meanwhile, Nastya is still in bed aboard Silvana. Refusing to move a finger. Which doesn't please Silvana.

Silvana is not everyone. They (let's use they as their pronouns) are a sentient ship just like Aurora, or maybe not in details but close enough! And they are offended about how Nastya talked about Aurora. They have a conscious! They are not an object that you can change entierly by switching pannels and bolts! How dare this little princess to imply it's the case! Silvana was expecting more than that when she listen Carmilla's tales about The Mechanisms.

Silvana is less soft and accomadating than Carmilla. They are not a mom. They are a spaceship able to travel between dimensions! So, she forces Nastya to talk.

And when Nastya finally snaps and says what she has buried deep down... She breaks down. She screams, she cries, she destroys things... she is messy. In a way she never really had been. Just like any organic beings. Or at least any immortal organic beings.

Silvana is surprisingly great at helping realised that Aurora is still Aurora even if she changes. Just like Nastya isn't the same than years ago. That running away is just hurting herself. And the love of her life.

I will not pretend that everything is perfect right away. And certainly not that everything goes back to how it was.

But, gradually and with a lot of errors, Nastya and Aurora reconnects. It took a stupidly long time! But they have the eternity to fall in love again. In a new way. A more geniune one. It feels like a new relationship, one based on the love they have for the real person their partner is, not what they represent.

It's slow, painful, and ridiculously messy, but they succeed. Nastya went In.

Just in time for a certain Pilchard to put a computer virus in Aurora, making Nastya succomb to it just the way she would have when she had this unique connexion to her love back in the days.

It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.

quote from gender rebels

Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm

screenshot from A Bedtime Story

Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.

The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.

And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.

And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:

"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)

Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.

Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.

While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.

Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.

Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.

And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.

Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.

and hard for nastya.

‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’

Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)

So nastya left.

[rikosseen]

Lookism with mute, younger brother

Anon request | ft. Goo, Gun, Jake, Eugene, and Yuseon

You run up to Jonggoo, kicking the back of his knees. The blonde grunts, turning to look at you with a bored expression.

Look what I got, you sign.

Goo’s eyebrow quirks up to see what you’ve got this time. You quickly rummage through your bag and shove a figurine in his face. Your brother backs away for a second until he recognises it. Slowly, Goo takes it in his hands, and examines the object. Left, right, up, down.

Holy crap, is this the original?

A devilish grin forms on Jonggoo’s face before he grabs you and hugs you tightly. You squirm, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail.

“This is the limited edition-” you kick his balls, and your brother falls to the floor. As he clutches his man pearls with one hand, Goo cradles the figurine with the other and looks up at you.

“Where’d you find this?” he says, caressing the object like a pervert.

In the next door dumpster. There’s other dolls there too, you respond.

Rapidly, the blonde scrambles to his feet with newfound energy.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?! LET’S GO RIGHT NOW,” he screeches, running to the front door to put on his shoes.

You blink at your brother, and cock your head to one side.

You want to… look through the trash with me?

Goo waves his hand dismissively, and the two of you walk out to your neighbour’s trash can.

Your clothes are going to get ruined-

Before you can finish, Goo Kim is already diving head first into the waste bin, scavenging like a vulture. No. A hyena is a more fitting description- because Jonggoo is cackling like a madman.

It’s in the recycling bin though..

But your brother’s too occupied. So you sit down on the pavement and idly play with some rocks on the sidewalk as people pass by, calling Goo a homeless drunk.

Gun places the freshly prepared sushi on the table before turning to you.

“What do you have there?”

You eagerly offer him a few broken pieces of something, awaiting your brother’s reaction. Jonggun examines it curiously, studying it for a moment as he holds it up, inspecting it as if it were an artefact. Metal?

“Where’d you get this?” he asks, before promptly shoving a piece of sushi into your mouth. You absentmindedly place a few strands of blonde hair on the table. The hair seems all too familiar—alarmingly familiar. You pull a Polaroid from your pocket. In the photo, Goo stands outside his apartment, mouth agape, locked out. Jonggun stifles a snort, almost hearing the screech that must have accompanied the moment. He looks utterly ridiculous.

“Is this his sword?”

As Gun pieces everything together, your excitement is palpable.

Do you like it? you sign, still chewing contentedly.

Gun grins, ruffling your hair, and shoves two more pieces of sushi into your mouth.

“Go put it in your treasure box,” he says.

You jump up quickly, eagerly gathering Goo’s hair and the broken pieces of the handle, ready to safekeep them. But before you can make your way to your room, Gun grabs you by the back of your collar, tutting in mock disapproval.

“Finish the food first.”

You pout dramatically, but your brother simply stands up to go wash the dishes. He pauses for a moment, then turns back to you.

“How’d you manage to get into his apartment..?”

As far as anyone knows, Jake is the biggest softie for those he holds dear. And if he did secretly have favourites, you’d place first. The man absolutely loves how spontaneous you are, loves the way you get all excited to show him the new things you’ve found. Be it skipping stones, phallus-like sticks, leaves, or snacks that Sinu’s dropped, Jake has a whole inventory in his bedroom. One where he guards the items you give him like some forbidden treasure by utilising a lock. No one is permitted to take it, and only he has the key to said lock.

.

When Jake returns home, you jump up from the sofa to run up to him. Upon seeing you, he gives a crooked smile while taking off his loafers. He’s been coming home a lot later than usual, and the weariness is evident in his features. There’s not much you can do about his errands, but he brightens up enough when you give him the little treasures you find.

I went to the beach for a field trip today, and got you seashells. Do you like them? You eagerly look up at your brother, and his smile widens slightly.

The glimmer in his eyes returns, and Jake feels rejuvenated. Feels like his energy’s been replenished.

“I love them,” he says, squeezing your shoulders and embracing you.

Eugene’s head is in a spiral, and he wants nothing more than to be alone. So many things have gone wrong within the past few months, and more than ever before, Charles Choi is posing a tremendous threat.

Where on Earth could that red paper be?

As Eugene continues to lose himself in his concerns, the door to his office creaks open, and two heads appear. You and Yuseong stand in the doorway, awaiting his permission to enter and play. Eugene glances up at the two of you, letting out a small, amused breath before gesturing for you to come in. Without hesitation, you and Yuseong eagerly enter, quickly retrieving a large container of Legos placed near the bookshelf. While Yuseong busies himself with constructing a city, you suddenly recall something important. Scrambling to your feet, you rush over to Eugene and tug at his arm.

“What’s the matter? Got something new to show me?”

You nod enthusiastically before pulling out a red sheet of paper from your satchel. It’s a little scrunched up, but you hand it to your brother anyway. The chairman hesitates, but slowly unfurls it. When he does so, his breath hitches, and a quivering smile forms on his lips.

The red paper.

“Where’d you find this?”

Inside DG’s car. Can I get more paper like this? I like red paper, you respond, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Heart beating rapidly, Eugene nods and gives your head a pat.

“Of course, of course,” he says. “Go and play with Yuseong. Let’s do something fun tomorrow.”

Your face beams at this, and you scurry off to play lego.

- I can’t be the only one finding this panel of Eugene so funny

[elegantlyeva]

Hey! I loved the story! Thank you so much! I hope it isn’t too soon to request again and if it is please ignore! I was wondering what those days in the hospital was like with Scott? How did he get hurt? Did he not like (actually loved it) having her fuss over him? Don’t worry about not getting to it right away. I truly just appreciate you even giving it a thought! Thank you!

A while 

a/n: Thank for the request bb <3 This is like weeks overdue, but I’m finally done with midterms so to the others who requested I'm getting through everything right now!

Word Count: 1.1K

The hospital smell flooded your senses as you walked through the doors. 

The call you got from Kate, of all people, was not something you expected. You liked the girl, sure. She was nice and had separated you and your boyfriend. It was weird having her call your phone, though. You hadn’t even been sure she had your number.

She barely got five words out before you hung up and started to drive.

Apparently, Javi and Scott had gotten into a little mishap after underestimating how close the tornado was going to get.

You packed Scott a bag, knowing he was a bit germ-crazy, adding some clothes, his toothbrush, and some other night things, assuming he’d have to stay the night.

Maybe it was a little premature. You knew he had been taken in the ambulance—Kate had said he was conscious but also looking concussed. Still, even if he wasn’t staying the night, he’d probably want to change.

Walking through the hospital hallway after lying to the secretary about being Scott’s wife—since only family was allowed—you popped your head into Javi’s room next door. Tyler and Kate were sitting in the visiting chairs.

Tyler smiled, waving you over, but you shook your head. “Sorry. I’ll come back. I’m going to check on Scott. Just wanted to make sure Javi was fine.”

Javi laughed, knowing damn well you weren’t coming back after seeing Scott.

His door was closed, so you knocked softly, but there was no answer. Assuming he was asleep, you opened the door anyway and headed in.

The sound of voices filled the room, and you mentally face-palmed when you heard Scott arguing.

“I’m fine. Get this shit off me.” Heading fully inside, you saw that the "thing" he wanted off was an arm cast. No one had seen you yet.

“Sir, we’re trying to set your arm back in place. If you don’t have the cast, you’ll move it too much. The bones will heal on their own, but they need support, and if you’re moving it and banging it into things, it’s never going to heal.” You could hear the doctor’s exasperated voice, so you cleared your throat and made your way over.

The frustrated expression on Scott’s face softened when he saw you but didn’t disappear. He let the corners of his mouth tip up and moved out his good arm to beckon you over. With no objections, you quickly made it to his side, hugging him awkwardly so as not to hurt his bad arm. 

“What took you so long?” There was a bit of a whine in his voice, not that he’d ever admit it.

“What do you mean, what took me so long? Kate was the one who called me!” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“My phone got crushed. And I would’ve called you myself from Javi’s phone, but these doctors are insistent on me not using my arms,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the poor nurse.

“Arm, sir. One. The other is alright. I mean, you should take it easy. You still have a couple of bruises, but you’re fine overall.” Scott scowled, letting his head fall on your abdomen while the nurse left with a sigh.

You smiled softly as he moved over so you could sit on the bed next to him. “I told the secretary we were married,” you said, assuming it would get a smile out of him.

And it did. “Yeah? Where’s the ring?” he asked, picking up your hand.

“I should be asking you that,” you said, and he rolled his eyes, putting an arm around your shoulder to bring your head to rest on his chest. “Give me a few months.”

You had only been teasing anyway. “So, why are you giving these poor nurses trouble for doing their jobs?”

“I need both my arms. Both. How am I supposed to get anything done with only one? I’ll be half as fast and more of a liability than anything, and—” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, and he sighed softly.

When you pulled away, you looked at his food tray before actually speaking up. “You okay? It’s not the best news to get when you’re driving home from work, hearing your boyfriend is being taken to the hospital.”

Scott groaned, letting his head fall back onto the bed. “I’m fine, really. Don’t sweat it. It was a stupid miscalculation. All of this could’ve easily been avoidable if we hadn’t been moving so slow. Javi said we had more time. I thought we had more time.”

You didn’t say anything right away, knowing he needed to take a few breaths when he got like this. “I’m fine, though. Sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. I swear I would’ve called, but my phone got crushed with the back of the truck.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry. I was only messing around earlier. I’m glad you’re okay.”

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, and shook his head. “A sweatshirt would be great. S’fucking cold in here,” he mumbled, and your ears perked up.

“I brought you a bag. That’s what took me so long,” you said excitedly, happy you could give him that. He squeezed your waist with his good hand.

“This is why I love you,” he mumbled into your hair. You side-eyed him a bit.

“That’s it?” you asked, and he rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for the sweatshirt and toothbrush. You snorted, handing him both, and after a struggle to get the sweatshirt over his head and helping him to the bathroom despite his dizziness, he settled himself against the hospital bed.

“I took off from work,” you mumbled, letting your hand brush through his dark hair. He glared at your words.

“Why would you do that? I’m fine,” he grumbled, attempting to roll his eyes, but it worsened the pounding in his head. You laughed, mumbling something about karma, and he pinched your side.

“We can just stay home for a couple days. I don’t trust you to actually stay home without anyone watching you.” He went to protest but was cut off when you gave him a disapproving look.

“Fine,” he said, looking like he was going to say more but glaring at something behind you. “What do you want, Owens?” You turned around to find Tyler leaning on the doorway.

“Relax. I’m not here for you. Your girlfriend said she’d come back to hang out with us in Javi’s room once she was done checking on you,” he said, smirking at Scott’s scowl.

“She will not be hanging out anywhere near you. She’ll get a worse headache than mine if she’s around your obnoxious ass.”

You rolled your eyes. This would go on for a while.

[peapodbond]

I'm going to hit Tim Minear with a calendar.

Okay, so, first of all. I'm a Teen Wolf fan. I'm used to wonky timelines. (Lydia had two canonical birthdays!) And 9-1-1 did get a little wonky! There are references that contradict each other all time, but since there is no set 'length' of time that each episode covers, maybe they do all work together. Could go either way!

But. For real. Abby? Seriously?

I have indulged in the Abby and Tommy jokes before. It is, objectively, hilarious to imagine.

But the math just is not mathing with what was given as their backstory.

2018: Buck is working at the 118, done his probie spot?? (in 1×2, Buck says he's been on the job for six months), and meets Abby.

2017: Abby and 'Tommy' break up. (as per her voiceovers)

2015-2017: Abby and 'Tommy' were engaged (as per Tommy saying they were engaged for two years)

?? - 2017: Abby and Tommy were dating. I have to assume it was at least six months? So at minimum, they were together for 2.5 years.

Let's recap! Chim came to the 118 in 2005. Hen came to the 118 in 2010 (there is some fun Twilight math involved, ask me about that sometime). Bobby shows up before Buck (in 1×5, Hen says he's been there for a year so it would have been six months before Buck, but Bobby Begins Again gets loosey-goosey with the time and it ~seems~ in that episode as though he went straight from Minnesota to LA after his family died and he got sober the first time, and the title cards in that episode say the fire happened in 2014. I don't really believe that he was at loose ends and drinking for two years. At that point in time he would have decided that the sooner he got back to work the sooner he could save 148 people and see his family again.)

Tommy, Hen, Chim and Sal were all friendly by the time that Bobby showed up. They made bets with each other, hung out after work, and razzed each other about stealing lunch money. This is a friendship that started shortly after Gerrard was removed (also 2010, because Hen was still a probie when the car accident happened) and continued until Sal and Tommy left the 118 in 2017.

You are telling me that Tommy managed to have a two and a half (minimum!) YEAR relationship, and that neither Chim nor Hen (nor Bobby!) met her, heard her name, and connected the dots when she started showing up with Buck?

Tommy, who was closeted and didn't feel safe coming out. Didn't mention his girlfriend slash fiancée so that people would stop asking about his relationship?

Not to mention that in Bobby Begins Again when they're all at the bar, Tommy mentions that being single is easier. So he's single! Which means that even with Abby waiting a year to hook up with the himbo the math doesn't math properly either.

And in Lou's interview with Decider he said that it was only decided recently that Abby and Tommy were going to be a thing.

Tim had seven years worth of timeline knowledge to figure that out. It feels like the length of the relationship was decided on so that Josh could give that (actually awesome) speech at dispatch.

(Also after hearing that 8×5 was written to be so good so that everyone would be even more upset in 8×6, it feels like it was just written to make it hurt even worse.)

So, it could have absolutely been written that they both dated Abby, but to be honest? It's more compelling if it had been earlier. When Chim is hired at the 118 Gerrard is asking Tommy when his girlfriend is coming to cook dinner - in 2005, fresh out of the army and DADT and faced with a boss that is homophobic, of course Tommy, at 21, would date a woman and go so far as to get engaged. And he and Chim, who were barely friends at that point, would not have been talking about their personal lives then. Of course, that would retcon the fact that 'Tommy ' and Abby had only broken up the year before the show started, but it would actually still work for the Patricia reference - Buck would have been much closer to Tommy's age when they would have dated, and Alzheimer's means that twenty years and twenty minutes can feel like the same amount of time away from you.

There. I made it make sense! And I didn't even have a team of writers and producers to guide me along the way.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 12

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Summary: Avoiding Messmer in his Keep comes with some difficulties, however, the Tarnished finds more answers that she was not ready to hear.

A/N: Ah, so Tarnished fucked up… I wonder if Messmer will ever forgive her? On with this chapter! Enjoy!

A03 link

-

Chapter 12: Insurrections

Your bedchambers have become familiar to you for some days now: a mess of what you once were. It is uncertain how long you've stayed in your one spot, staring idly out your window, wondering if one day you may gain the courage to apologise to Messmer.

You knew that it would never happen. His Lord had not come to see you, and you had not gone to face him. By the third day in your confinement, tiredness stings at your eyes. Your lack of awareness of time gives you no indication of what time of day it is. You stay up most of the night, starve and sometimes sleep, all the while looking like the mess you see yourself as.

Staying in your bedchambers felt as familiar as when the Impaler had imprisoned you, but this time, you knew you deserved it.

You don't wish to think of confronting Messmer, for he would not accept or listen to your endless apologies. You're worried he would burn you in the very spot if you dared even look his way. You're, however, thankful he didn't kick you out of his keep and burn his allegiance and protection away like cinders in your face.

It was perhaps wrong of you to lash out at him, for you had a guilt that you knew somewhat more than he.

Queen Marika was imprisoned in the Erdtree and you didn't have the heart to tell him.

Sitting up from your spot by the window, you brush your hands along a rigid object, looking to find a hairbrush, golden as Queen Marika's grace. It takes some effort to brush through your locks to untangle the knots and control the frizz, but you think you look presentable.

I must redeem myself in his honour. You tell yourself as you try to dress: simple trousers, boots and a shirt, one with red thread that loops through the buttons. 

You think back to his challenge: to bring Redmane Freya's head as an offering. To wish to return to that time, to be the feral Tarnished he thought you were.

If there was a way... you think to yourself, and the idea that springs to mind is one that only you can conjure. To meet face-to-face with someone you should've confronted ages ago.

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

"Lady Tarnished, it has been some time since we last spoke."

Sir Ansbach looked up from his book to greet you, though you're certain he is inspecting you of your drab attire, your dour look and the sunken skin that seems to make your face look sallow and worn with age.

"Ansbach, I must tell you of something. You mustn't tell a soul." Not even Messmer. To think if he found out, what he'd think of you for seeing hallucinations of his half-brother.

"You can tell me anything, Tarnished." He says, but you're certain your next words to come from your mouth will deem you in his eyes as one marked with insanity. Maybe pledging a deal to the Frenzy Flame would've been a better idea than this. "What troubles your mind?"

"I..." you swallow a thickness in your throat, and your heart hammers, "What would you do if you were seeing the ghost of someone?"

"It depends who it was," he strokes his grey beard, "A loved one? A close friend perhaps? Who is it you see?"

"The long-dead form of Prince Godwyn."

Ansbach takes a long pause, though it seems, he's not surprised by your words. "You too, are plagued by a long-forgotten Lord?"

You try to dismiss your feelings about it all, the confusion still plagues your fragmented memories of the past. "It seems so. But I do not know what he wants of me, why he's coming to me to give me vague and cryptic words." You laugh to yourself wryly, "Forgive me, you must think I've lost my mind."

"Not at all, Tarnished." Ansbach's warmth in his voice does show some concern for you. "Dreams make most of us think of our realities differently. Some dream of greatness, others madness. It is what makes us. St. Trina traverses in our minds, giving us the path ahead."

St. Trina is not who we think she is. You scoff. She appears as a girl, and sometimes a little boy. It brings something to click in your mind. "St. Trina is seen as a little boy in dreams, a little boy who was cursed with eternal youth."

Ansbach peers at you quietly. "You think this is Miquella's doing?"

"He is oddly quiet in all of this. His followers, walk his path and we hear nothing of it. Why did Leda ask me to find Messmer? If not from her, it was from Miquella." You think. She asked that you had to deal with him, which could mean they needed something from his corpse. Could it have to do with his curse?

Ansbach sighs whilst you think, endless mutterings are ceased as you turn back to him. For the first time since meeting him, he looks... terrified. "Tarnished, I ask this of you carefully. Miquella is not what you think he is."

"I'm aware. If not for his loyal devotees and changing identities, Miquella is more cunning than we think."

"Are you aware that he had been Mohg's consort?"

Did he have a choice? You question. "Mohg desired him for greatness."

"No, he did not," Ansbach's voice is gravely low, "he did not even need Mohg in the long run. It was his body he needed."

You squint your eyes at his words, "What do you mean his body?"

Ansbach gives a weary sigh, resuming, "The Lord of Blood was merely a diversion to Miquella's schemes. It was not Mohg who needed Miquella but Miquella in search of a vessel, a consort to call his own."

"It was Mohg who stole Miquella though? He was his consort."

"That is what is known and what is falsehood, Tarnished. It is Kindly Miquella who twists and warps our reality, our bonds, our love." That's impossible. You tell yourself: another ploy for Miquella's allies, but what if they too, had been swayed by his twisted games?

"What of Mohg?" He was another of the Demigods who felled by my hands. "He has been... dealt with."

"Aye, but do you recall where his body lies?"

Your heart thunders deeply, your skin feels as if it's sticking to your clothes. "Last time I checked, still where I remember."

"His body was missing from the Mohgwyn Palace."

No, this can't be. "You're saying-"

"Miquella is using it for a greater purpose, even better than his mother's."

Your thoughts are racing but you only have one person on your mind. "So, when Leda asked that I dealt with Messmer-"

"She meant for you to bring back his flame, his kindling."

It feels as if the ground tilts you, your world seems to be spinning with questions that are screaming over the others to be answered. There is no way of knowing if they can be, but all you can think of is Messmer; who broods in his Keep unaware of the danger he's in.

"Tarnished," Ansbach grabs you by the arm to pull you back. You don't realise you've turned away from him, walking with a purpose to find the Lord of the Keep and set things right. To tell him everything. "Miquella is a monster, who must be stopped."

"I know," you whisper so low that you don't recognise your own voice, "but what I am if I cannot get Messmer to heed my warnings?"

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

The door to your bedchambers shudder as it collides with the stone-brick wall, groaning as you barge through. You're keen on finding weapons, armour, anything to help you in this fight. It was enough playing coy and hiding in the Keep, it was time you had to face Miquella and whatever vestige he had made of Mohg's body.

The wind is dead as you rush around the apartments, with no luck finding anything useful to you. You felt useless: running around without decent clothing, no food packed or no idea how you'd find what you were looking for.

You're so wrapped up in your little mind, that you don't seem to spot that the room has grown cold spots, and the outside world diminishes into darkness. Candles blow out themselves as you scramble to the wardrobe when you notice. You know something is in the room with you: the air is so silent that you cannot concentrate on your breathing. 

You wring your eyes shut before a ghostly hand plays with your curls from behind you.

"Show yourself, Godwyn."

You spin around on your heel to face the monster head-on, coming face to face with the golden eyes you had grown to despise, to fear. "Now, where are thee running off to?" He toys with you as if you're his plaything, coyly smiling down on you as if nothing is the matter.

You clench your jaw as well as your fists. "I will not play your games, Godwyn," you dryly laugh, "or shall I say St. Trina? Or how about Miquella?"

The golden prince plays docile with your confrontation, a victim in your outburst. He keeps some distance between you two for now. "Always playing the knight, aren't thee?" 

"I am stopping Miquella." You don't have a weapon, but you're not afraid to fight him -or whatever this thing was- dirty. "Step aside. I will not ask you again."

"He hates thee. For speaking ill of his mother." Godwyn says, his voice is honeyed and sweet but his words are sinister. You know exactly who he's talking about and it frightens you to your core how he knows. "Why would he wish to be with thee?"

"He shouldn't," you answer, though you try to hide the pain in your voice, "he does not need to forgive me at all. All I want is to set things right. Not be seen as a lowly Tarnished that no one can trust."

"But that's all thee art," Godwyn says as he circles you, "A lightless creature, devoid of love, and compassion, afraid to even seek simple friendships without knowing it will end in heartache."

You shut your eyes, but even still, you can feel his presence. "You are not here. Get out of my head." You hiss.

"Spat out over and over again to live and die." His words echo like the chiming of bells in your head.

"You are dead. You are not here to torment me."

"I died the day thee didst." You feel his hand ghost over the nape of your neck, gracing your jawline as you feel his cold breath on your skin. You grimace from the deathly touch. "T'is why thee feel such guilt. Thee wished thee hadst stayed."

You blink back the tears when you open your eyes, finally facing him. "It never would've happened. Not then, and not now." You begin to bend your knees slightly, positioning yourself as if ready to fight. "Will I have to get through you?"

It seems his mask finally slips. No longer playing the charismatic eldest son that you could remember, nor the one who could win anyone over, he stares down at you with the coldest eyes, unfeeling and detached. He is quiet for once, and what feels like forever, neither of you speak, his soulless eyes bore into your soul, with no warmth, no love. 

Finally, he answers you, but it is not his voice anymore, no, it's the voice of many. "No," he sighs, before he catches you off guard, by grabbing your face, pain erupting from the contact. "Let me aid thee."

Your scream seems to be cut off, your body is pushed through complete darkness, flying like a ragdoll through matter of space with no stopping. Your head hurts from where his hand came into contact with you, similar to thousands of tiny needles piercing your skin all at once.

The spinning finally stops, you think, and when you blink, you're not in the apartments of the Shadow Keep, but rather in the middle of a field, surrounded by bodies of millions. You look down at your clothing, surprised to find yourself once again in Leyndell armour. The armour feels heavy on you as if trying to weigh you down.

You squint over the horizon of corpses to see what stares back at you: Godwyn in his full glory and what would've been him in his prime. Dressed decadently in the finery of golds and blues. He carries his infamous halberd as he stalks his way towards you. His face has morphed into something you don't recognise as being him anymore, gone is his fine flaxen hair, now a dull faded hue. His face is half covered by his hair, but you can only see one eye staring back at you: white with black sclera.

"I will not fight you, Godwyn!" You scream, but your words fall quiet with the roaring of his armour clanking as he charges, weapons clashing with a force that you're almost knocked to the ground.

Godwyn fights with the strength of his father, weaving to knock you back as you can only dodge his swings and stabs. Some get you in the joints, but you're not expecting the pain that comes from them. They burn with a far greater pain than should come from a stab or slice. You grimace, and a wave of weakness takes over you, sudden that you almost fall to the ground. You try to compose yourself, pulling back the layers of protection to stare down in horror. Your skin protrudes with black veins, spreading further across your flesh. 

Death blight. You have experienced it before, but not to this strength. More stabs from him and it will be an instant end. You would rather not be stuck in an endless life-death cycle with the Golden-haired prince, not when you needed to get out of this dream-like state.

You dodge another swing, narrowly missing as he strikes a corpse instead. Think, think! This simply is all an illusion! Remain calm! You tell yourself, avoiding more hits as you try to concentrate on where you should be. My chambers, the Shadow Keep. 

From behind Godwyn, like a mist in the air, it dissolves to reveal that you're surrounded by a veil of delusions. Now! You roll out the way, running as fast as you can to reach the broken part of the veil. Your body feels weakened from the death blight, but it's enough for you to reach for your escape.

You crash through darkness once again, with no Godwyn to be seen. You look around yourself for his sudden appearance, finding no sight of him. Feeling some relief, you think how will you escape this next illusion. Your breathing echoes as you're standing in a large chamber, your footsteps the sounds you hear.

You're ready to call out when something catches your peripheral: a small dim light, glowing softly. An escape! You draw in close to it, like a moth to the flame, and you follow until you come across a room you recognise. There are candles dimly glowing in the room, giving a dark blue-ish hue to the room. It's cold, colder than you think it would be. You look around yourself when it dawns on you.

This is where you first fought Messmer. Everything looks exactly how you remember it to look, and you swear you must've traversed the entire keep to reach here under some spell. You're about to call out for someone, hoping that this was all some way of testing your patience when something else catches your gaze. Marika's statue stares down at you, coddling the clothed babe of Messmer in her arms. However, it is the figure that lies just by the statue's feet.

Walking cautiously closer, you hear the softest of whimpers, sobbing. It is when this figure at closer inspection seems familiar. You see a little boy, with hair so red that it looks so similar to burning flames. Serpents curl around him as he lies beneath Queen Marika's intense stony gaze. He looks up at her with an innocent look, his eye glassy and golden as the seal that holds the twisted one inside glows. "O prithee," you hear his tiny voice, "let me see mine mother again."

"Messmer." You call out to him, running to reach him. The boy does not seem to spot you, still, he watches his mother's statue like a loyal hound, hoping for her return. "Messmer!" You don't seem to be getting any closer to him, seeingingly, the room grows larger and darker, and his small body seems to grow smaller and smaller the closer you move.

It's when you hear the many voices again, all burning in your mind with a screech that you collapse to the ground. Bastard born. Corrupted one of ill-making. You push to stand, looking around you to find no sight of anyone but young Messmer. He has still not spotted you, so intently focused on his mother that he does not hear your screams of agony and your shouts to gain his attention.

The voices grow in numbers until you think your head will explode. No, I must save him. You tell yourself, pushing forth as you take painful steps towards the red-haired child. 

"It wasn't your fault she left!" You shout into the void, and it's only with that, Messmer's little head perks up, his golden eye wide in fear. Looking around him, you know you must try again. "You are not the monster you think you are. You are far greater than any of her wishes, her goals. All-- all you wanted was your family, your life, and you got sent away."

Messmer is still scanning the room, his fearful look is slowly melting with some semblance of hope. You try reaching for him, despite the screams, the agony and the death blight. "Messmer." You call to him softly. "Messmer, please." You call again, and it's with this clearer call that his eye locks with yours. They don't look at you with fear or hatred, no shock.

You wonder if this is your sin, replaying to you over and over again your mistakes. Dying to relive it all.

A tear slips down your face as you smile over to him. "Forgive me."

It is with those two words that you realise the ringing has stopped, the screaming and voices have ceased. You think you know of peace, as you blink and find yourself back where you were before. In the comfort of your chambers, pressed into a wall with the confusion of everything melting away from your mind.

You think you can finally breathe a sense of relief when you notice that there is no silence in the Keep. There is a distant sound of something, constant and growing larger in sound and numbers.

You move to the window, surprised to see nothing, but only when you hear more that joins with the sounds of what sounds like a stampede. The ringing of a bell. The shouts of soldiers from afar. The sound of burning wood.

"Messmer." Your heart leaps from your chest. You have no idea where he could be, nor do you know how long you've been stuck in that spell. You look down at your simple clothing: you cannot change in time to reach him, and you don't want to imagine what carnage awaits.

They knew to distract me. How did they know to find me here? You wish to answer, but you don't know yourself. You look back from the door to the window, and an idea comes to mind. I do hope Messmer isn't too angry about what I must do.

Bypassing the idea of using the door, you find the heaviest item you can: a candle holder, a book, the vanity if you can muster to pick it up, smashing each thing against the window, until it causes the vanity to show some signs of cracks. A small opening is all you need as you use your elbow to smash through the rest, glass sticks into your skin as you bleed, but you continue until the opening is large enough to slip a hand through.

You crack the window open, and you hurry to climb through. A gust of wind greets you and reality hits you with how high your chambers were above the Keep. The barren wasteland greets you below, and you contemplate if you have lost your mind.

No time to think. You tell yourself, as you shuffle your way along the thin edge. Jump.

With no time for cold feet, you release yourself from the wall you're holding, pushing yourself as far away from the rooftops as you begin to plummet. You know where you will end up, and where you will find yourself when you wake up.

The sky grows smaller the quicker you fall, but the noise surrounding the Keep grows, a commotion festers, a siege. 

You shut your eyes as you brace for what waits, hoping you're not too late to find him.

-

A/N: I do like to imagine Tarnished is a "ask questions later, got to leap off this building first, see where I land" type of gal. I do love writing feral, himbo women, and I can only imagine Messmer may have a type growing when he sees her again.

[autisticjoshrusso]

ok ok ok. a post about josh, buck, and maddie at dispatch as promised. (and because i dont feel like writing a whole separate post or repeating myself etc, if im pointing something out as evidence for my autistic josh headcanon, it'll be in parenthesis like this) also this is long because im going basically line by line in some places so just be prepared for that and such.

the first thing i wanna say before anything else is that like... as far as how this conversation fits into the larger narrative, i was fairly disappointed, due to the way that including this scene like this is kinda implying that the racism was fine because of being closeted etc. HOWEVER. luckily for my sanity it is pretty clear that from a character perspective, that's not at all what's being said by josh himself here, and we can be pretty certain that he is not aware of tommy's past behaviors. in fact he has almost no facts or context about the situation, which i'll get into later.

now that the disclaimer is out of the way, im gonna move onto character analysis and will not be touching on what i think the narrative might have meant etc. any further. like this is going to be purely talking about character dynamics and dissecting the dialogue etc.

we start out right away by skipping all the exposition right into a hard cut of maddie reacting to the news that tommy and abby were engaged. LOVE this set up we get right into the important part quickly and we as the audience only have to hear information that is new to us, not the information being repeated back to the character for whom the information is new.

and oh maddie. i love you so bad. she's like DAMN thats crazy, and then makes the obvious turning people gay joke. her energy here is sooo like it didn't make sense until looking at it in retrospect, but she's shocked and invested yet not taking it very seriously as a concern for buck, because well, she's having a baby and this is objectively not that serious comparatively <3 but i do love that she sees buck's reaction and quickly reins it in and is like woah im kidding im not actually being homophobic holy smokes. which. it kinda still is a little. but i think she's allowed <3

and then... josh enters the scene. he apparently only walked in as buck was saying "-kissed a boy" so of course he had to be like huh? gay shit? something gay? boys?? what's going on over here? and i love that for him. and i love that maddie immediately is like oh hi bestie i catch u up to speed on the tea <3 the maddiejosh bestieism is so back we never lose <3 and that fact that she's like. feeding in the facts in a way to dramatically amp up the tale i love it. she really said man the things my baby brother gets himself caught up in are wild.... anyway <3 true sibling behavior is finding the perfect balance between being supportive and being so so annoying <3

and she is supportive still. like when it becomes clear that there's something deeper going on here she does try to help him work through it. and its so interesting to me the way she is sort of seriously contemplating his words and is shocked when josh not only speaks up but is being very serious and equally focused on the problem at hand. it's like... she's trying so hard to figure out how to help her brother with something she doesn't fully understand that having someone else speak up to help them kind of shocks her and boy does that say something about their lives and the buckley sibling dynamic!

side note, the way josh is jokingly like "she didn't bring her personal life to work, unlike SOME people" and maddie's little look of mock offense?? they're so cute i cant handle it.

i also really love how the shots are framed during this conversation. at first, even when she's not talking and is just listening to josh talk, maddie is still in frame, we're still getting her reaction, she's an active participant in what's going on. and then there is the one shot where she's talking and josh is out of frame, hidden by buck, because whatever reaction he might be having isn't important, it's a buckley sibling moment. (he's not an active participant at that point; he's entirely observing and reacting and gathering information, not dictating the direction of the conversation whatsoever.)

it's only when josh gets very serious and it starts to turn into a heart to heart moment just between him and buck that maddie is allowed to leave the frame. it still goes back to her in very brief cuts when her reaction is relevant, but she steps back out of focus and let's josh handle the conversation. and i love that so much. thank GOD someone else is helping buck sort out his problems that isn't his parentified sister or just generally someone more marginalized than him. it was kind of getting irritating to watch, as much as i love buck so much. like dude... the emotional labor. watch it.

and man. this conversation guys. everything about it makes me an insane crazy person. ive already mentioned this in the tags of some other posts but like... its so fascinating because on the surface it is such a cohesive conversation, but when you really break it down and analyze both of their expressions and body language alongside what they're saying, you can start to see the cracks in it. what one of them is saying is not what the other one is hearing, in both directions. they are having two different conversations and i think it's critical to analyze both of those conversations and how they are interacting with each other. what josh says, what josh hears, what buck says, and what buck hears are four entirely separate things happening alongside each other.

the first part is josh trying to get a sense for how serious this relationship is to buck. when buck falters at the question of "do you love him?", he elaborates with follow-up questions that, to josh, define "love" or close enough to it. answering "yes" to those questions is close enough to a "yes" to the question of "do you love him?".

(which. ok. the particular choice of questions makes me insane because they do essentially boil down to "do you prefer this person to solitude and grant them an equal or greater importance to yourself?" which is sooo... it's said from the point of view of someone who greatly values their solitude and would not easily grant someone that level of importance.)

unfortunately, well, buck is NOT someone who greatly values his solitude, and puts other people before himself quite easily. buck would answer "yes" to those questions for basically anyone. josh does not know or understand this about buck and takes buck's answers at face value, while buck is taking this as sort of... it's hard to explain, and i think others have done a better job of capturing buck's perspective already tbh. he's convincing himself that he loves tommy here because josh is unknowingly handing him that information and expectation, and buck loves to mold himself to fit an expectation etc.

and then comes the second part, which... i think this is where it is most critical to realize that josh has none of the context about tommy, abby, and buck and those respective relationships. by his own admission, he didn't really know much about abby or about her breakup with tommy beyond the fact that it was upsetting. he didn't hear the way tommy talked about abby to buck at dinner, and he definitely didn't get to see any of the real fallout and damage to her psyche that tommy leaving her caused.

but buck did! im not inclined to rewatch s1 to get any exact quotes or anything but from what i remember, she either outright said or implied that she was so heartbroken because tommy left her because of her mother's illness. buck is understandably very upset because he understands exactly what she went through and how, unless abby was lying to not out him, he didn't exactly come clean with the breakup, and left her feeling like it was her fault, like there was something wrong with her or she was being weighed down by caring for her mother. he calls tommy's behavior exactly what it is: dishonest and cruel.

but josh doesn't know this. all he is hearing is a young, freshly out bisexual calling a gay man "dishonest and cruel" for having been engaged to a woman for his own protection. and he responds exactly how you'd expect! he reminds him of queer history and the fact that he doesn't really have a right to judge the people who grew up and had to survive in a world that was much less safe to come out in.

(and i said in my other post that's still doing numbers that "pre-Glee/post-Glee" is an actual queer discourse talking point and makes sense that it'd be used here, as awkward and cheesy as it seems, but it's also a win for my television/film/popular media/hollywood culture/etc. as a special interest headcanon. <3 we love to see it)

and it kills me because of course buck is just going to take this at face value and decide he needs to stop feeling the discomfort he's feeling, leading to the subsequent doubling down and over committing that is typical of his unhealthy relationship patterns.

(and then at the end of the speech josh has to literally announce that he's leaving DSJFHJKDSKJ. because walking away/ending conversations is so awkward and difficult and the easiest way to mitigate that is to lean into the Dramatic Homosexual Stereotype mask or whatever <3 i've long been of the opinion that josh is someone who uses the behaviors associated with queer men and queer masculinity as the blueprint for his neurotypical mask, which is why he often comes across as being just a little bit off from the Funny and Bitchy Gay vibes that it seems like he's going for. and boy did his exit from this scene just reinforce that headcanon so hard!)

they wrap the scene with a little bit more levity too which is kind of nice to like. move on from that. because it got kind of heavy there for a second.

overall i do like what this scene accomplished, but like i said at the start, i think it has some really unfortunate implications that weigh it down for me. still, always nice to get more josh content, especially when it's pretty consistent with his character as established AND not at all related to doing his job. we got to see him and maddie being goofy and maddie being allowed to let someone else deal with buck's problems for a second. and the whole thing was very well shot! excellent camera work going on throughout.

i don't actually know how to end this post so yknow. im gonna make a dramatic exit now or whatever <3

[sade-alicious]

please i cant be the only one slightly majorly off put from the fact that will being gay is the butt of so many will jokes. like… i know most people dont have bad intentions and they may be queer as well but its just excessive sometimes. and he’s a character that’s dealt with homophobia his entire life, so a lot of fandom jokes are in really bad taste. other characters have dealt with issues like sexism, bullying, the struggle of being poor, racism, and yet…

[thranduel]

i don’t understand why people hate gale.

“he’s annoying” or “he talks too much” or “he’s too clingy and got offended when i was in a relationship” (which was a BUG, it takes two seconds to do some research before jumping to conclusions) are the most stupid reasons to actually hate a character.

he’s the one that has the warmest personality when you first meet him as well, so i just don’t get it?? i’m not saying you’re not allowed to dislike him, and this doesn’t apply to everyone, but SOMETIMES it feels like people just hop on a “hate bandwagon” because i see so many comments (especially on tiktok… where most of the people only started playing because it’s “trendy” now) about him that are the exact same as each other and it’s like people have lost the ability to think for themselves and form their own opinions after actually playing the game properly and learning about the characters.

so many people even go on about how it’s a turn off that he “doesn’t shut up about his ex”… like maybe actually continue playing the story to understand why it’s a significant conversation to have and why it’s a huge part of his character arc, and stop being weirdly bitter/jealous/annoyed when the man is also a VICTIM that has been manipulated and abused in a relationship with a massive power imbalance.

[qqqqqqqqqqq0]

i've been having some trouble falling asleep lately

[transgaysex]

god remember jake marshall. from rfta

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

when i knocked on my conductor’s office door this afternoon she yelled ‘COME IN’ but it was locked so i imagine her reaction upon opening the door was probably something like ‘who left this upset and trembling chihuahua on my doorstep? oh, it’s just em.’

[jumping-jackalope]

its just so crazy to be faced with the proof that people think about you even while you are not around

[marciliedonato]

was anyone gonna tell me brad taste in music reviewed hesitant alien and gave it the most absolute dogshit rating like. living up to the name i see like jesus christ, man......