#i am just a mere watcher in this situation

[bandzboy]

there needs to be nuance in this situation it’s so obvious that the media is jumping on yoongi because they saw an opportunity to join a smear campaign of a bts member and i wanna preface by saying this nobody is saying what he did wasn’t wrong and i know that’s what is going around a lot. dui is wrong and i think everyone can agree on that. in this situation, he didn’t injure anyone else and fell on his own while being drunk and he did acknowledge this TWO times at this point but obviously using this situation to cover up other news in south korea will come in handy

hybe is nothing doing anything to ease any of the damage and when this came out initially, bang pd was caught in LA with girls half his age who people found out later on were cam girls and so that’s why they used yoongi’s situation to protect him and the company because, if there’s anything this situation showed once again is that companies will do ANYTHING to protect their image and would never do the same for idols in fact, they would throw idols under the bus to do so

this situation is going too far and it’s getting ridiculous to the point he had to apologize twice and honestly what else can he do in this situation? when he probably will face the consequences and know what he did is wrong. people are asking for more when there’s nothing else to explain here when the facts were given and people still wanna make up their narratives because they hate bts. it’s just all seems insane to me atp

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

simply lilac outtakes: lilac & minta

(set before the second strawberry ceremony - this would have occurred off-screen)

LILAC: Hey, so Ezekiel said I’d find you up here - oh. Talk to me.

ARAMINTA: It’s nothing, really.

LILAC: It’s clearly something. What’s up - did Dodo only recite love poetry to you twice this morning?

ARAMINTA: Today is your day.

LILAC: It is my day - and I’m choosing to make it about you at this moment. So tell me.

ARAMINTA: Hosting this - it is a privilege and I love seeing how the contestants grow - but it also makes me think back to the island, and of all the other people Dodo could have potentially been happy with instead of me.

LILAC: Wait - whoa. Have you not seen the two of you together?

ARAMINTA: I have. And all of this feels so unfair since when it’s just the two of us, he makes me feel like I’m the only other person in the world. It’s nothing that he’s done. It’s just me - all me. And I see you with contestants and I think “oh, they could be cute, but then they also could be cute” - what if everyone else is thinking that Dodo made the wrong choice?

LILAC: Then plum everyone else.

ARAMINTA: What if he has made the wrong choice? For him, I mean?

LILAC: Okay - oh, woof. Listen, when people have just started dating, most of the time they’re not exclusive. And if they are, it’s purely incidental.

LILAC: So what you saw on the show was merely what would have been going on in the background in real life. Though I get where it would have been hard to watch. Do you still feel like he’s the person for you?

ARAMINTA: Yes. Absolutely.

LILAC: So is it more that you wish you’d met under different circumstances?

ARAMINTA: Yes - actually, no. I wouldn’t have been the person that I am today, had I not entered the competition. It - it definitely did a lot of good for me.

LILAC: And maybe if you and Dodo had met elsewhere, you wouldn’t have given each other a chance? [dryly] I’m feeling that way a lot about my situation.

ARAMINTA: True. And I appreciate the opportunity. But then I look at Daisy Dee, who’s so gorgeous and has such charisma, and Sierra, who’s simply amazing - and I wonder how he could have possibly picked me? It’s not that I’m jealous of either of them, it’s-

LILAC: The Inner Araminta Own Worst Critic?

ARAMINTA: Perhaps. 

LILAC: You could also maybe look at it like, “here’s all these ‘amazing’ people he met and had a great time with, and he still chose me? So to him, I must be extra amazing? And he must really want to be with me?” Could you try and think of it that way?

ARAMINTA: Hmm.

LILAC: And if you can’t see yourself that way, could you maybe believe that Dodo does?

ARAMINTA: [...]

LILAC: Would you try and talk to him about this sometime? I know that communication isn’t always easy for you stiff upper lipped Henford types, but if you explained how you felt exactly the way you explained it to me just now. He thinks the world of you. And if I’ve noticed that something’s been off about you lately, then I’m sure he has too. In between all the belching and the paranoid muttering, even.

ARAMINTA: [tentative smile]

LILAC: Well, time to face the music. Just let me fix your mascara first. We’ll just pretend it’s bled since the Watcher didn’t fork out for the Lovestruck pack. Also what’s this dress you’re wearing? Amazing.

ARAMINTA: It’s a @sentate. We had all packed formal outfits for the final, but production never gave us the chance to change.

LILAC: Then production’s a bunch of idiots. Dodo would have proposed to you on the spot. Actually, we better have Lou check that he’s off set for now. Can’t have him ruining my moment in the spotlight, can we?

dodo harper by @akitasimblr, daisy darling by @mdshh, sierra mitchell by @tipsy-clouds

[townsenddecades]

1316 – Day 3

Baby Joan only survives for a few weeks before a fever, certainly brought about by malnourishment, claims her.

Both parents are devasted, but Malika is downright inconsolable. She doesn’t say as much to Benjamin, knowing he would try to talk her out of it, but she blames herself. She must have done something wrong. Maybe she could have been more careful, more pious, more anything. Maybe she should have eaten more, for her baby. But how could she have justified that to herself, when she would have been taking food out of Amye and Malcolm’s mouths?

Sadly, the tragedies don’t stop there. People have been dying of sickness and mere hunger for months, so it is little surprise when over in Mahlsberg, William Watmore, Edith’s husband, falls gravely ill. She doesn’t feel too well herself, but she supposes that that is merely her pregnancy, the lack of food, the fear for her husband and the pressure of taking care of the house and their young daughter all on her own. There is little time to nurse her husband on top of it, but she does her best.

It is almost a relief when he dies, even though she hates herself for the thought.

The reality of her situation, that she is now a starving, heavily pregnant widow with a small daughter to care for and a sodden, unyielding piece of land, only crashes upon her later. She takes care of the necessary formalities to have William buried – and she grieves for him, truly she does, she just can’t think of that right now – and then reaches out to her family. Her father’s and siblings’ support are now the only thing she can hope for.

Her family doesn’t fail her. It is arranged that she will spend the months until her second child’s birth in the empty cottage on her father’s land, so that she isn’t alone, and Malika and Benjamin can help take care of her daughter Elsie. She feels a bit guilty that she and Elsie will strain the Townsends’ limited food stores even further, but she doesn’t see any other way for the two of them to survive.

While she is away, William’s brothers will take over tending to her plot, which the Earl has graciously agreed to. No doubt the fact that her sister is married to his legal advisor’s son has helped with that. She doesn’t intend to complain.

She almost cries when she arrives back at the farm she grew up on and is greeted warmly by her father and siblings. It is a relief to not be responsible for once, and she is only too glad to give Elsie into a delighted Malika’s care and rest.

After losing her own babies, Malika is glad to have another child in the house to take care of, and is soon completely besotted with little Elsie, who is a precious, friendly girl. And Benjamin, despite the circumstances, is glad to have his daughter in his home again and is looking forward to meeting his youngest grandchild. Losing Duncan and Joan has been hard on him, too.

Edith takes a few days to regain her strength, but once she feels a little better, she puts herself to work. She might not be able to help being dependant on her family’s kindness and what little food they have, but she can at least help Malika in caring for the house.

So, she puts herself to work tidying, helping with the three young children, tidying, scrubbing, and whatever else needs doing. The work helps her not to think about William or her future too much. It still hurts her deeply that he will never meet their longed-for second child, or that her baby will never get to know its father.

She is glad to at least have a cottage to herself and to Elsie – that way, no one notices when she gives into her grief at night. The last thing she wants is for her family to think her ungrateful, after all they have done for her.

Prev: 1316, Day 2 <--> Next: 1316, Day 4, Part 1/2

WATCHER’S COMMENT:

Killing sims and writing about the grief of those left behind still hurts, but that’s the challenge. We’re not done with the famine deaths yet, either.

Joan would have been such a pretty sim, too. I am very unhappy that I won’t see her pass on those genes.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Mousetrap, pt. 6

Author's Note: Tav is dealing with the PTSD from (literally) hell & Raphael's repeated assaults. Suicidal thoughts.

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

Tav found that while she could trance well enough, for some reason her memories would not replay themselves as they once had. She'd been told once that drow couldn't, yet until recently - at least, that she remembered - she'd been able to. Perhaps a result of whatever the druid grove she remembered on first waking had done...it didn't matter.

She would retreat into better memories, of better times, a thing necessary for her since coming back in time.

Since Raphael's visits had begun, it had gotten more and more difficult...

...until last night, when she had been unable to summon them at all. Astarion's feeding had interrupted her latest attempt, and in a futile effort to be better rested she had closed her tent flap and changed into some of Gortash's clothes. Even though she'd worried the remaining scent might wear off, she'd changed into the shirt he'd once worked on the Steel Watchers in. Then a pair of pants he'd usually chosen to sleep in, tied tightly with a belt. For good measure she'd spilled a few drops of the Rotgut Red on her pillow.

Halsin's former pelt had made for a good blanket, but nothing had done her as much good as Gortash's things. It had all relaxed her so much she'd actually fallen asleep rather than the trance she'd planned for.

But this relaxing slumber was, in the morning, broken by a sudden shout, and then a scream.

Tav bolted upright and looked, bleary-eyed, out of her tent, still half-wrapped in the pelt and holding up the sleeping pants.

"YOU!" Halsin was rushing toward Orin, who herself was heading in Tav's direction.

"Halsin! STOP!"

He looked over and she saw his eyes widen, his gaze deepen - she knew then that Raphael hadn't lied. (But, something whispered in her mind, did he ever? He was honest about what he had to give.)

Tav stepped in front of Orin and stood between them with her arms stretched out, while the latter half-cowered behind her.

"Step aside, Tav," Halsin said, not once looking directly at her, but at the cowering woman behind her, "This thing will end us all if we do not take care of the situation NOW."

"She doesn't know who she is," Tav replied quickly, not moving an inch. She felt paradoxically both wildly out of place and exactly where she was supposed to be. "And believe me, I checked. With the tadpole."

"And you think that's enough?"

"Would Orin the Red be cowering behind me if I weren't telling you the truth?" Tav asked, "She still has the same urges but she's not the same person."

"...none of us are," Halsin said in a defeated reply. He kept his hard gaze on Orin, and lifted a hand to point, "I will be keeping an eye on you. I did not live this long to have your blade buried in my back, AGAIN."

Orin merely nodded and practically squeaked in what Tav assumed was meant as a reply.

Tav turned around and in a quick attempt to both get the woman away from Halsin and have a moment alone with the man to explain everything, suggested she take some time to do blade training with Lae'zel. It would be something to occupy her time, and perhaps wear out her bloodlust just a bit.

"Am I deceived," Halsin started slowly once Orin had left, "Or do you remember a past that has not yet happened?"

She expected to feel elated, pleased, some form of a positive emotion. But she felt the same grief as she had when he looked unknowing into her face.

Why? Why can I not be happy? What is wrong with me?

"You...are not deceived," Tav replied slowly, not finding herself able to meet Halsin's eyes. Shame had risen from nowhere, and already she felt submerged in it. "I do."

"Then why defend her? Why--"

"I just told you. She doesn't remember it. She doesn't even know who she is. She answers to Orin because I told her it was her name - I could have told her anything and she would've accepted it. We have...an opportunity to turn an enemy into an ally and considering what we will have to fight against..."

Orin had taken everything from her - twice - and yet the woman that had hidden behind her wasn't that same person. Would Orin the Red have so nicely healed them up with her song? Would Orin the Red be reluctant to kill someone else? Surely she would enjoy mutilating herself, but...

Mercy, mercy, mercy

The more Tav hurt, the more she gave, and the farther she could put the pain from her mind.

Tav finally settled for saying, "What Volo seems to have started, I can finish."

"Ever the savior," Halsin said, "You trust far too easily, m--"

"Mama!" Cald's voice rang out suddenly, "The owlbear is here, like you said! And the dog!"

"Ah...later than I thought..."

"I must know," Halsin said quickly, "One more question--well, I have many, many more, but one I want to know the answer to now."

"What?"

"The boy," Halsin said, concern clouding his face, "Is he mine?"

"No," Tav replied. She saw the man's face drop and added, "I would tell you if he was, but he's not. Let me handle this, and then--we can talk."

She hurried off then, still feeling that keen sense of wrongness. Something was warped within her, with every joy blunted and every hurt amplified. Why? What was happening?

No. You have no time to feel sorry for yourself. The Shadow Cursed lands lay ahead. Ketheric Thorm. All that the area entails.

Deep breath.

The owlbear cub was most enthusiastic about the leftover meat from the party the previous night, and seemed to want more.

"It's alright, little one. I have more, if you want to stay."

They hadn't rescued it from the Goblin Camp, so how...? No, she told herself a second after that thought.

(Or had they, and there had been so much going on that she'd simply forgotten?)

No, she would not question a blessing. The little thing was missing its mother, was hungry--that was the important thing here.

He's afraid, Scratch said, when she asked, His mother was killed by those goblins. I tried to help him but he jumps at everything.

"The hand that feeds is the hand that's loved. You won't get rid of it anytime soon," Gale's voice was heard over her shoulder, just in time to scare the poor cub off. "...or so I thought, at least."

Tav HAD hoped for the little one to occupy her time longer - she saw Cald looking after the cub, and then looking at her for an answer.

"He was startled by the sudden noise," she explained to him, "He'll come back, don't worry. He was hungry, and too small to hunt on his own."

Then a look at Scratch.

"You can stay here, if you'd like."

Cald looked up at her, and gave a grin. He seemed to like the idea of a dog even more than she did.

She felt she couldn't smile, but tried anyway, and was rewarded by a hug.

"I'm going to the river to have a bath. Don't get too far away from camp unless you decide to take your raven shape, alright?"

He nodded, and Tav grabbed a few things from her tent before heading off to the river - noting, of course, that Halsin followed her at a distance. She tried to ignore the fear and shame that welled up, telling herself it was needless, telling herself this was what she had wanted. A chance to speak to him and explain, to unload at least some of the anxieties that had been plaguing her, to have someone to share the mental load with.

She sat down at the river's edge, and took off her boots. Footsteps were heard behind, and the fear in her gut turned to sudden and unexplainable panic in her chest. And even when Halsin--of course it was Halsin, she chided herself, who ELSE would it be?--sat down beside her, the rapid beat of her heart slowed only a little.

"Tav," he said softly, "Or should I call you Deirdre? An apt name, I suppose, considering all that has happened."

She merely nodded--and kept her eyes on the water. "And that was before I...lost you. And Astarion. More...more has happened since then, and I..."

"If you do not wish to share it, you need not. If you are worried I may be angry that you found love again, you shouldn't worry about that either. To love again after grief is a sign of great strength."

Tav brought her knees up to her chest. "But I lost him too."

She took a deep, shuddering breathing, wrapped her arms about her knees, and lowered her head. When tears wouldn't come she lifted it again, and started to slowly talk again.

"I made my way after you and Astarion died, and...there was my husband," she knew he would find out about Gortash anyway, but wasn't eager to speak about it now. Not now. She knew Halsin would have something to say, and she would strike back, and she just didn't have the capacity for it at the moment. "For a while we were happy, and...and...then Cazador struck. You remember the Rite of Ascension?"

Halsin nodded.

"He went through with it, and..." she shook her head, "He released Orin from the prison we had her in, helped her to cause the chaos she so loved, and...eventually drove us from our home in Baldur's Gate. If it weren't for Withers, I'd have been dead too."

"What did the bone man do?"

"I gave him the Crown of Karsus, and he sent my son and I back. Only two could go, he said, and Cald's father...decided his son was more important."

"He sounds like a noble man."

Tav didn't move. "Besides me, Cazador remembers, Raphael remembers, and some fourth person I don't--"

"Myself, perhaps?"

"No, I had to buy your memory--" Tav stiffened at the slip, and buried her face again. This time the tears did come, and when she felt Halsin's hand on her shoulder the panic rose once more.

What is wrong with me? Halsin wouldn't hurt me - why does my body react like he would? What poison has taken hold of me?

"Tav..." Halsin's voice sounded off slowly, "...what do you mean, 'buy'?"

(Clawed hands at her hips, teeth at her neck, the scent of cherries and hellfire all-round.)

"I was alone," she finally sobbed, "Alone, for six years, and none of you remembered, and...and...it wasn't as if he asked for anything important..."

Halsin seemed to be trying to encourage her to lean against him, and she submitted to it reluctantly. The panic in her chest seemed to grow worse with even just one of his arms around her, so it was unsurprising when she felt the effect of a calm spell radiating from his hands.

"Tav," Halsin said gently, "Are you comfortable saying it, what you gave him?"

She shook her head, still unable to meet his eyes.

"You didn't promise him the Crown?"

Tav attempted to say "No, I didn't promise Raphael the Crown" but her voice simply refused to speak the words. She tried again, and then a third time, and still her voice would not do what she was asking of it. So she shook her head.

"You remember now," she said, "And Wyll remembers. I would have asked for Astarion too, but..."

"You did not want to burden our star with an extra reason to fear Cazador's anger, perhaps."

Tav didn't correct him. She sat thinking for a brief moment - how wrong it sounded. 'Our star'...more than a decade ago the words would have made her happy, filled her with warmth, and now...

...now she did not know what they were doing to her.

"I could give him his memory," she hiccupped, "But it would cost me half an hour's time with that--with Raphael. If you wanted I could see it done before--"

"No. No, absolutely not." Halsin sat back and lifted her chin--and she saw then the pained look in his eyes as she flinched from the movement and looked away. "I will not have you buy his memory with your pain. You know he would not want that for you."

"It's...it's...it's such a small thing..."

Despite the spell, the fear rose against it, battered the wall which he had put up.

"This husband of yours," he said a moment later, when he let go of her face, "Is he now alive?"

"He--he is. But we can't--I can't--"

"Is it one of the others?" he asked, "Gale, perhaps? Wyll?"

"No, neither of them. It's someone we're going to have to..." Tav took a deep breath. "I can't do it again, Halsin, I can't. I saw Astarion dead, I saw YOU dead, and then to have to look at E--my wounded husband as I was leaving him behind...I can't go through this again. Everyone who comes to love me dies."

Tav was mortally afraid Halsin would pick up on the one syllable she had spoken of Enver's name, that the love and concern in his face would turn to fury and hate as it had been directed at Orin. But he didn't seem to catch it.

"If I let such things deter me from love I would never have come to adore you and our star as I did," Halsin replied, "But I can understand the pain of loss making it difficult to...try again."

She could practically feel the sorrow rolling off him, and sat back. "It's not that I don't want to, but I..."

Deep breath.

"Let us...let us focus on cleansing the Shadow-Cursed lands first," Tav said, "The rest of them don't know anything, and..."

At least he understood her need to change the subject.

"And you have a child to mind. He's wonderful, you know...even before I remembered you, I thought how like you he was. He was eager to understand, to help, and had many questions I was more than happy to provide answers to. Even if he is a bit more interested in clockwork and artificer things than I am capable of understanding. He was pleased to have someone to instruct, himself."

"He...he is very much like his father in that way," Tav said weakly. At last the panic was fading, at last she could relax against him. "His father was a tinkerer of sorts, more enamored with things he could use than those things found in nature."

"I hope he did not stifle your love of it," Halsin replied. Having apparently noticed her ease he gave a smile.

"That's just it," Tav replied, "He didn't stifle me at all. He liked the city, but he didn't keep me from nature. It was more that...it was more that being around nature, after losing you..."

"I see."

She took a deep breath, and pulled the pelt from her shoulders.

"I feel I should give you this. It...it's yours, after all."

"I never--" Halsin started, and almost as soon as he had, stopped.

"Before...Orin skinned you. It was one of the things she was happy to show me, when we returned from defeating Raphael." Tav took a deep breath. "I...I had it...tanned, and...kept it."

Halsin took the pelt, and looked it over. His brows knit together, whether in concern or anger she wasn't sure. But she assumed quickly that it was the latter.

"I'm sorry, Halsin, I shouldn't have kept it. It was yours, after all, I should have buried you with it."

"Why should this upset me? It is natural enough a thing to happen, and you did not take it as a trophy or to decorate your floor. You took it for a cloak, to stay warm."

She just gave a nod, and looked down to the water. A bath, as she'd said she meant to have, sounded good, but the thought of being nude before anyone, even Halsin...

But to leave or ask him to leave...she didn't want him to feel this was his fault, and she didn't want him to worry.

Tav washed up as best she could without removing any clothing, while Halsin naturally chose the opposite way. Again there was that feeling of the panic struggling beneath the wall of calm, and again there was confusion. Why should sight of him in this state disturb her so? He wasn't the one who had violated her. He wasn't the one who turned what she'd once enjoyed into a currency of agony, pain paid in exchange for silence and memory.

But her mind seemed convinced as though he was, and that only made her feel worse. Any thought that he might desire to ravish her as he once had filled her with fear.

"We should--hurry back," Tav said, once she had finished with her hair, "We've got to make a start, and...I...we should speak to Wyll, too."

"Does he know of everything? Did he die?"

"No, no, he took his father's place, and..."

The effects of the calm spell were fading, and then came the sudden panic that Wyll might inadvertently reveal all. Tav took a deep breath, and attempted to force the fear back.

"He was well enough, until the end, when...when it all went so wrong."

She tried on standing to once again hand Halsin his pelt, but he only smiled and draped it around her shoulders. "No, no, it is yours. Let it stay where it is, and keep you as warm as I wish to."

Tav prayed Halsin wouldn't realize that the smile on her face did not reach her eyes.

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

Of course.

When she and Halsin returned to camp to find Raphael standing in its midst, that was all Tav could think.

Of course.

A flash of memory from the previous night went through her mind. The teeth at her neck, the claws at her hips or on her shoulders, the...

It seemed as though he knew what she was thinking, because the moment her thoughts were on the more intimate parts of the previous night, Raphael's gaze turned in her direction. His placid expression shifted into a smirk, and there was no spell that could blot out the hysterical dread that seized her then.

"Such terrible manners you have," Raphael tutted at her, "Am I not even to receive a welcome?"

"You aren't wanted here, devil," Halsin growled, "And if you will not leave, we will--"

"I wasn't addressing you, bear, but your dear leader, who really should do me a favor and call you off. If I am to get Karlach's work done, I can't have distractions."

"Karlach's...work?" Halsin was confused, as were Gale and Astarion, who were the only others within earshot, but he was the only one to speak. "Tav, what's he talking about?"

"Tell him," Raphael's eyes practically glittered with mischief, "Tell the druid what I mean. One would think such a caring leader would be proud she had found a solution to the problem unsolveable."

"I made a deal..." Tav's voice shook as she spoke, "With him, to...to fix Karlach's infernal engine."

"Yes, and it's a good thing you were wise enough to accept my aid...she would not have lasted very long without it. Now where is she? Be a good mouse and fetch her."

Tav's body didn't react automatically as it used to when Raphael gave an order, but she went off anyway. The sight of his smug smirk filled her mind, and a nervous gulp soon followed. She didn't dare look up, fearful of any inquisitive or pitying looks from the others.

"Karlach," she finally said, once she'd reached the tiefling, "I've found a solution for your infernal engine problem."

"Really, soldier?" A hopeful smile followed. "Did Dammon come up with something while we were all asleep?"

"No, no, I didn't go to Dammon," Tav shook her head, "I...had a chat with a devil of Avernus who said he knew how to fix you."

"If his idea is for me to go back to Avernus, then the answer is no. I just escaped Zariel, I don't want to put myself under another devil's power. It'd just be trading one master for another."

"I'm not entirely sure what solution he has in mind, I'm not an infernal engineer. But I've already...paid him...so there's no need to worry about anything being required of you."

And maybe, she thought, as she lead Karlach back to Raphael, Maybe once you find out about Gortash, you will be merciful enough to only break my neck.

She knew damn well it could not be hidden forever, but it was her fervent hope that it could at least be put off until after the Elder Brain was dealt with. When this was all over, there would be nothing for her to lose that wasn't already gone.

Some tiny part of her whispered that Karlach might be a solution to the agony. You could have told her, it said, and simply let her rage do what her rage does, until you are no longer moving. Until it is all over.

No, Tav refused, Too much is at stake. Everyone out there is relying on me.

She would simply have to find something, anything, to give herself to. Someone to help, that would fill this terrible emptiness.

"A little late, are we?" Raphael spoke the moment she was back, "Quite rude of you, but given the party I've heard tell of, it's a wonder you slept at all. I will be gracious, and forgive you."

"I never sleep well," Tav replied, and forcing back her disgust, added, "I am...grateful...you say so. Now...what exactly will this fix entail? Karlach doesn't wish to go back to Avernus."

"That's just as well, because I'm reasonably certain there's someone who wishes to keep her there. News does get around in the Hells, after all. And there won't be any tedious engineering work to do, no--that's why you came to me about this, isn't it? To find a savior in the face of certain doom?"

Answer, his eyes demanded of her.

Once more, though she was not being compelled to obey, Tav did.

"Of course."

A satisfied smile spread across Raphael's face, and shifted back to placid disinterest when he looked back to Karlach, reached up--

For a moment the tiefling's body was limp, like a reference doll suddenly bereft of its support. She nearly fell to the ground, but managed to catch herself before she did. Not a moment later she was sitting, though, hand over her chest, breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" Tav asked, and then looked to Raphael. "What did you do to her?"

"She needed a heart, did she not? It's functioning normally, no need to thank me...but if you wish to..."

Tav ignored him, and knelt beside Karlach. "Does anything hurt?"

"N...no, I just...I...I'm not used to a heartbeat...I haven't felt that in ages!"

She whooped, and then wrapped Tav in a tight hug, but Raphael standing there for a few moments before vanishing soured her thoughts and poisoned her happiness.

How grateful will she be when she learns the truth?

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

"We'll go south," Tav said, "To my home in the swamp to stock up on supplies, before we head to the mountain pass, and then to the Underdark."

"What of the creche?" Lae'zel asked, "Or have you decided to make prayers to your god and succumb to the ghaik?"

"We will visit the creche. But if they are hostile--which they may very well be, because we are not all githyanki, AND we have the tadpoles in our heads, it is best to have a backup plan. Would your creche not suggest slaying those with ghaik infection, were they not of your kind? With you present, it could be different. We might even persuade them into helping us assault Moonrise Towers, seeing as that is where the tadpoles are coming from."

"A...sound enough plan."

That conversation done, she looked over everyone packing things up, and sought out Wyll.

"We need to talk," she said in a low voice.

"Yes, I suppose we do." He gave a weak smile, "Karlach's been celebrating...please, tell me the patron you spoke of isn't Raphael."

"I could tell you that, but I'd be lying."

"What happened?" he asked. "How--"

Tav unloaded everything, finally relieved to have someone for whom there was no need to hide anything. Wyll had never judged her, after all, and surely would not judge her now. Halsin was all that was loving, but if he knew she'd been anywhere near Gortash in a romantic sense she feared that would all come to an end in an instant.

"I saw him back before--you showed up to my home that first time. He threatened to tell Cazador--who remembers everything, by the way--and I had to...pay him a debt of time."

She took a deep, shaky breath.

"I didn't know what else to do but give him what he wanted," she said. "It was either that or risk Cald's safety."

"Does Gortash remember?"

"Not a thing." Tav swallowed. "Not a bit, not at all. I could make him remember, but that would cost me half an hour and I don't--"

She took a shaky breath.

"Tav," Wyll said delicately, slowly, "What do you mean by it costing you half an hour?"

"Of time. With Raphael. Do I--do I need to explain further? I don't know why, but he's been like a man obsessed...I know he still wants the Crown of Karsus, but he's acting as if something's going to happen that will make me want to give him the Crown on my own. Without the--the deal he tried to give us last time, I mean."

"You don't need to do all that. Gortash--"

"As he is right now, Gortash wouldn't give me a second look," she said, "Other than...I don't know, seeing me as some wild hero to be broken under his boot. The situation was different because of Orin, but with Orin here...and he's not the same man I left behind. I could HAVE the same man, but--"

She took a deep breath.

"Does Cald know?" Wyll asked. "Have you told him?"

"As best I can," Tav replied. "About his father, I mean, and the adventure ahead. He knows nothing of Raphael except that he's not to be trusted."

"And Orin?"

"As you can no doubt tell, she doesn't remember anything," Tav replied, "We've got an opportunity here, and...I mean to take advantage of it. Well, not--you know what I mean. She could be a powerful ally instead of an enemy."

"I understand," Wyll gave a nod, and after a moment's consideration said in a lower voice, "What's the plan?"

"The same as last time. Defeat the Elder Brain. And this time...this time, we don't lose anyone. Not Lae'zel, not Halsin, not Astarion. Everyone lives."

She gave a weak smile.

"Can I count on the Blade of Frontiers for that?"

"The Blade of Frontiers is ever at your service." He gave a grin, and an exaggerated bow.

"Thank you, Wyll...thank you."

Tav lead them all away, south, feeling for the first time that her burden was beginning to lighten.

[thenewfuture]

Hey guys, Mod Freeze here….

…

…We need to talk.

Or more like, I need to talk and get these emotions off my chest.

If you were on my main blog then you know who this is about already. But for those unaware and not in the know…

Let’s get educated, I guess…

On Tuesday, several big name YouTubers were the talk of the town with their biggest sparks of controversy on Twitter. But we’re here to only talk about one of those individuals. Chuggaaconroy.

Chuggaaconroy is a long time YouTuber who has been making Let’s Plays of his favorite games for over 2 decades now. And I was avid watcher of his since I was about in middle school. Something…clicked with me with how he handled himself, his silly little puns, his goofy attitude, his informative research into the games he was playing; it all seemed so cool to me. I looked up to him, I wanted to be like him one day, maybe even go to a convention and meet him in person at his panel. That was my dream, he was idol…

……….On Tuesday, Lady Emily brought forward that Chuggaaconroy had been sexually harassing her last year. Asking her for feet pics and wanting her to partake in his fetish despite already having a girlfriend. To which, he admitted to be true. Claiming he “misread” the situation, or “was unaware” of how he was coming across….

….Y’know they say to never meet your heroes, or to never idolize anyone for these reasons alone, yet it never clicked with me. I was fans of many other big shots in the entertainment world, be it TV producers, actors, writers or other YouTubers, one by one each was found to be creepy in the end. Some of them I liked their content for a mere day before they turn around and got exposed. It’s be funny if it wasn’t so sad…

Despite all of that though, despite having seen numerous of people I’ve looked up to for their content and got inspired by, everytime. I told myself. “If this happened to Chuggaaconroy, I would just give up. I would give up on people, this dream I had, everything! Because I would know what to do with myself” I couldn’t fathom…a world…where someone I looked up to for such a huge part of my life…could do something like that…

So I want to talk about several topics regarding this.

Firstly, boundaries. It is always important for you to set up boundaries and protect yourself. Even against the smallest of things, know your limits, and address them right from the jump. If someone asks you to do something you’re not comfortable with, don’t play along to appease them, do not engage with that activity or person anymore and shut it down as soon as possible.

And this goes around the other way, it’s important to think before you say something and ask yourself? “Is this okay? Is it really all right to do this?” Something innocent and harmless to you may not be so to others, abd you have to check yourself. I have in the past spoken out of turn with others, typically in a joking matter when the situation was far more serious then I thought it to be. It led to conversations becoming awkward and south badly because I misunderstood something.

Now I know there is a....ginormous margin of a distance between making jokes at improper times and....sexually harassing someone to partake in a fucking fetish, but the point still stands. Communication is a two-way street. I also don't want to make it seem like I'm victim blaming here, oh no. The fault still lies with Chuggaa. I just want others to protect themselves in case something does arise similarly, and for others to think before doing something.

Next point, the defenders. Now I have made it abundantly clear that I am so distraught by this news, and wish that it was untrue or that this would be a dream I could wake up from. But we all have to face reality at some point. That doesn't stop others from trying to defend their beloved idol, oh-so much though. Now I can understand to some degree the point of having it resolved through DMs, instead of leaking it on Twitter for the whole world to know; but bottling up all those emotions and baggage isn't exactly the healthiest thing to do either. It was right fro Lady Emily to stand up and let everyone know of the sexual harassment she had to endure.

Regardless, people still wish to defend Chuggaa anyway. And some....think it would be an excellent idea....out of all excuses....to say that it's normal for him to not find any wrongdoings on his part.....because he's autistic and doesn't get social cues.

.......You all know exactly how I feel about this type of excuse so let me reiterate.

....Don't.

....Ever.

.....Ever....!

....Ever!

EVER!

Use Autism as an excuse, to justify shitty behavior!

It. Is. Unacceptable!

You're just being ableist and reducing every other austic person out there by condemning shitty behavior, and you're infantizing Chuggaaconroy and acting like he doesn't know any better.

Chuggaa is not a fucking soft "uwu"cinnamon roll baby boy, he's a grown thirty-something year old man! Treat him like it!

And also, Chuggaa has never once hidden behind his autism as an excuse for anything. He admitted to it without a shadow of an excuse or any truth dragging to be forced out of him. So don't say stuff for him and defend his actions with that. Because, news flash, LADY EMILY IS ALSO AUTISTIC! What fucking double standards are you implying by saying she should've simply said no, but free Chuggaa of any and all crime.

I fucking hate that excuse! And as a person with Autism myself, I WILL NOT FOR SUCH SHIT BEHAVIOR AND DEFENSE LIKE THAT!

Ugh.........

.......So....what now...? Am I ever going to learn? Are we ever going to learn? Should we stop idolizing and looking up to others in general? Is it wrong to ever dream and get inspired because of others... I don't think so...

This brings me to the last point I want to talk about...

Inspirational figures. It's easier said than done to not look up to somebody, it's human nature. We look up to people all the time. Our parents, family members, our friends, actors, musicians, writers, influencers, fictional characters. And it's to an ever greater effect when you're a child. We think of them as heroes, gods. People inspire one another, and that inspiration sparks a light in someone's heart, and allows that person to carve out their path and find their potential future in life.

How many of you have gotten in to something because of someone else? Because you saw someone popular do it and you wanted to follow in their footsteps. I'm guessing a lot of you...

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be like somebody, to chase down that avenue of the person you admire so much. And it's going to be a long and treacherous road, but I need you to understand something... That person is so far away...so out of reach you can't touch them...but you know who you can hold...your friends. Your family. Those people closest to you, are that matter most. Not someone behind a screen. And like I said, it's going to be extremely hard to break away from that idolization. But don't ever stop going down the road to your future. Don't chase after someone else....love yourself first and foremost. Inspire yourself. Be your own inspiration.

And if you look up to me, or if I have influenced you in any way with this blog or my writing... Thank you...that means a lot... And I hope you can shine even better than I can... I hope you stick with the ones that matter most to you.

So class, what did we learn today.

-Set up boundaries to protect yourself from strangers at the first jump

-Think of what you're going to say before you say it

-It is isn't inherently wrong to have heroes.

-Inspire yourself

-And don't fucking ever use autism as an excuse from criticism. Or I will find you and eat bones starting from the inside and working my way out!

Ahem...! So, that's all I wanted to say. I know this stuff isn't what you're used to on this blog but I just had to get this out there and speak about it somehow. And I hope to see you all soon with some updates.

Take care of yourselves...

-Mod

[lumen-tellus]

KURO YOURE COOKING TOO HARD I AM SO CLOSE TO PULLING OUT MY WALLET RIGHT NOW

(also some of the dialogue is really making me think of my own skk oc who is just an au of one of my other ocs and immmmmmm Thinking A Lot rn)

for anyone interested (aka only me, so this is also doubling as some note-taking for future me) -

currently, my SKK oc is a PGR AU of another oc, Yulia i.e. Maria from my original Dreamland project (which is currently languishing bc it only exists in my head and putting things down on paper is so hard dsygdsyudgsy)

for this AU, the planet ends up going boom bc it so happens to be one of those doomed civilizations watched by the Watchers - and so, Yulia and all her friends and loved ones go boom with it rip

subsequently, she gets reincarnated into the PGR world; from the very onset of her new life, her goal is to locate any of her friends who may or may not have been reincarnated as well. she spends a good chunk of her childhood combing Babylonia for anyone who even remotely seems like her friends or family, and when she comes up empty, she turns her sights to the remnants of humanity on earth.

thus she enlists to become a commandant for the mere opportunity of being able to head to the surface and get into often-enough contact with the people still living there, and that's where the canon plot takes over.

the fun part is that because her soul isn't native to the game universe, she simply cannot join the natural flow of this universe's cycle of life and death and entropy - she's been constantly reincarnating from all the dead ends of the timeline without realising, the act of death and reincarnation being so forceful that it wipes her memory of the other timelines save for fleeting pieces.

and ofc, with the numerous dead ends that come with a job as dangerous as hers, these fleeting pieces have been steadily piling up to the point that she's also been suspecting the same thing as Lee and his premonitions. though she can't say for sure what exactly is the cause for her own situation - she's perfectly human, though she's also quite well aware that there are some things that simply escape the definition of logic and plausability altogether.

so lol this mention of "deja vu" and this frame's general premise of time..................... lol. l o l. how fitting.

[thesorcererspen]

About Me

Hello,

I am TheSorcerer'sPen. Some just call me SP. Either is fine. Writing has always been a passion of mine since childhood. I graduated a few years ago with a degree in writing & rhetoric, but I've never been brave enough to share anything online. My fiance and best friend have both encouraged me to put myself out there more, so I wanted to start by introducing myself to the writing community here.

I am a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, mythology, and crime stories. I am also obsessed with manga/anime, especially HunterxHunter, Naruto, and Jujutsu Kaisen. My favorite book of all time is Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Game of Thrones and Dune are both in my top five favorite books of all time. I am not a huge fan of romance stories, but I love stories with well-written romance subplots. Action scenes are fun, but I am here for the great dialogue and character interactions. Internal conflict is seriously underrated.

I am a huge history and mythology buff, so much of my writing is inspired by these two things. I love writing dark fantasy stories and exploring themes of class, power structures, dysfunctional families, friendship, forbidden love, angst, etc. But, really, I just get such great joy from creating my worlds and creating characters that feel alive. My characters become like my imaginary friends.

I want to use this blog to showcase my writing and connect with other writers in the community!

I have two current WIPs listed below.

Traitors of the Nation

Genre: Urban Fantasy

In the nation of Astoria, the cold carves bone deep and its citizens are divided by blood—those with the golden blood type are called the magia, people with super abilities that manifest themselves when the user is thrust into dangerous situations. The noble elite wants to control this power with a class system that ranks its citizens based on the nobility of bloodlines and the usefulness of one’s abilities. Commoners with the golden blood type are forced into labor assignments, and the elite have created a device to suppress the abilities of an individual should they prove to be defiant.

Izan Ashida and Satoshi Nishimura are childhood friends who find themselves on opposite sides. Izan sits among the highest elites, serving as a bounty hunter who does the Crown's bidding, while Satoshi is placed in a lower class and branded a danger to society. War is brewing between the classes, and it has the royal family on edge. Revolution is coming. But when an elite military officer orders Satoshi be executed for treason Izan must confront a past he was desperate to leave behind and decide where his loyalties truly lie.

The Immortals' Gambit

Genre: High Fantasy/Mythos

Casimir Kozak has lived his life in hiding, afraid of being discovered as a cross-blood in a world where humans struggle as mere mortals and the vampiric hemomancers known as the Zegoshi reign as gods. But the nine immortals are not the only thing to fear.

The Watchers, a highly trained military faction of the Zegoshi, are everywhere. They are tasked with maintaining social order and executing any cross-bloods they encounter. Beyond the wall, there are dragons, violent beasts who are enemies to Zegoshi and humans alike. At least, that’s what he had always been told.

Tired of living within the confinements of the wall and wanting to escape his Zegoshi father, he runs away from home on his eighteenth birthday. But his venture outside the wall proves to be lethal when he has an encounter with a dragon, discovering that the beasts have been disguising themselves among humans.

A rogue Zegoshi intervenes, sweeping Casimir into a world of intrigue and danger. Forced into an alliance with an enigmatic young Watcher captain, the trio embarks on a mission to investigate the surging dragon threat in society. But as he begins to delve deeper into this world, he uncovers hidden truths about humanity’s history with the dragons, the true intentions of the gods, and a prophecy that reveals the role he must play in this deadly game of power and politics.

[prose-for-hire]

Penny for your thoughts

Pairing: Wesley x reader

Request: Not requested. I just needed to write something from my own brain !! Inspired very loosely by season 3′s ‘earshot’. Reader can read minds and struggles with this. One day, they meet Wesley and thoughts threaten to spill. [Italics = thoughts]

Warning: Very mild violence mentioned. Hostage situation.

When you first meet people, you always knew exactly what your first impression on them is. Sometimes it was good, others not so good. But it was never as disastrous as the time you met Wesley. He hadn’t been in a good mood that day anyway, he was late and his research had led to nothing. Even worse, he would have to face Giles and admit that he had been wrong about which codex the relevant information would be in.

It was the early morning and you had arrived at your new job. You had needed something normal, you weren’t to know that living in Sunnydale would be the furthest thing from normality. You were the new school administrator, hired only because you knew the exact answers that Snyder was looking for when he interviewed you.

There was something about you that people couldn’t tell just by looking at you. You were telepathic. You could read people’s minds. That’s how you knew exactly how much he disliked your demeanour. Some people were jealous of your abilities, but often you decided it wasn’t worth the constant headache (both metaphorical and unfortunately literal too).

Whenever anybody found out, they often held you at arm’s length. People liked to keep their thoughts in their own heads, apparently. Not in yours. You had been practicing ways to ease the headaches and thus quietening the voices down inside your mind. These foreign thoughts bubbled up when you focused on someone you were near, but you could block out a lot of it now. Thanks to a lot of practice.

This morning, Wesley had been trying to walk straight past the front office and into the library without being stopped – but you had got in the way of that. You stepped in front of him and he stared at you as if he was trying to burn holes into you.

“Yes?” he asked curtly, looking past you now towards the corridor he should be walking down.

“Hi, I’m Y/n, the new administrator. Snyder’s asked me to put this sign-in sheet in place for, uh, late staff…”

“This is ridiculous! I am barely a minute past the hour-”

“I know, but you still need to sign…” You said, your voice wavering as he thought about how he wished that you would explode into dust like a vampire and leave him alone. He scribbled something illegible onto your sheet and stormed away, cursing you both in his head and under his breath as he walked.

You sighed. You learned two things on your first day at Sunnydale High, one being that doing your job and contractually having to side with Snyder wasn’t going to win you any friends. And a second being that vampires, demons and evil existed. Which, I mean, you guessed it must be true if you had the abilities that you did but it was finally confirmed to you.

The rest of the term went on like this, with you only ever encountering Wesley the same way and him getting decidedly more annoyed with you every time. You, on the other hand, became more fond of him. You learnt more about him every morning through his thoughts and found him to be a kind and genuine man who was just desperate to prove himself to the people he now worked with.

After getting a cold reception ever since you met him, one morning was a little bit different. Not only because Wesley was early but he made a point by saying good morning very loudly to you to which made you smile widely at him. You couldn’t help it, his thoughts had made you really like him. He faltered only slightly and you didn’t quite catch what he thought as he brusquely walked past.

Much like in verbal conversation, you didn’t always hear everything clearly if you weren’t focusing enough. Moreover, you often tried to make a point of letting people have as much privacy as you could. You could hear an underlying buzzing of everyone’s thoughts but if you focused and isolated on a person you could hear it clearly. But everything was always so busy it could be hard to catch things clearly sometimes.

In some instances, however, some specific thoughts called out to you with an almost painful clarity. This happened later that same day. You had walked into the library to explain to Giles that there had been some complaints from students that they had been turned away from the library for no good reason when it hit you.

I will eat them. I will kill them all…

You must have reacted very obviously as Giles with sincerity asked if you were okay. You rushed out your words, knowing that this was a lot to suddenly admit – but you knew these were the right people to tell.

“There’s something in here, the school I mean. Something looking to eat people. You need to, uh, do some research. The Sumerian will have to wait, this is happening. And soon-”

“H-how did you know about-” Giles began, he had just thought about beginning to read the Sumerian text he needed.

“Uh, yeah, so, I can read thoughts and I know I can trust you because you save the world often between school opening hours and I never once thought about telling Snyder so please just trust me?”

“I knew it!”

“You have never thought that before, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce”

I may have done… eventually.

“But you didn’t” You smiled softly and he looked at the ground. Giles caught this look between you and your seemingly one-sided conversation. You found his look endearing and found yourself thinking this for a moment too long before snapping yourself out of it.

Nobody tried to test you or question you after they chose to trust you. They appeared to be able to tell how genuine and how much you appeared to want to help. So, they listened to what you said and began to do more patrolling. Some even questioned other students in case they had seen anything suspicious (which, they had it just didn’t happen to be the kind of suspicious you were all currently researching).

Buffy and her group of friends were guarded around you with their thoughts which you were used to, people really didn’t like their thoughts being shared. But at the same time, you could hear that they thought you were pretty cool which was really a big compliment.

You were all searching for this demon on the school campus, it had been a week by this point and you and Wesley kept being paired up by Giles. Whether that look you gave him had inspired him to be a match-maker or he was truly oblivious and just wanted the two of you far away from him you didn’t know. Either way, you had quickly been adopted into the little team.

Wesley was bashful and often began tripping over his words to talk about anything that you appeared to take an interest in. He began to warm to you once he realised you had just been trying to keep your job and not trying to ruin his career as a watcher (and fake librarian).

You kept listening intently as you and him did your usual loop around the school, having to hope everyone in the school could forgive you listening to every single thought in search of the person you had heard that day. You were sieving through every thought anyone had ever had and it was getting tiring. Exhausting, even. Your head was so full it began to spin almost violently. A merry-go-round you could never get off, it kept going faster the more you listened.

While you were listening one day in the library, Wesley, who you had been distracted by and had been watching from the other side of the room had moved to stand beside you. You hadn’t noticed him, much less that he was speaking until your legs gave way from under you. You started to collapse to the ground until his arms reached to catch you. It was instinct, he gripped you tight preventing you from falling. He allowed you to shift some of your weight onto him as you walked towards a chair. He turned away to make you a cup of your beverage of choice to relax you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Wesley said softly as he sat beside you. His demeanour so different from how he had been even a week ago. You had become fond of him much before this, but he was just beginning to warm to you. To understand you had only been doing your job, helping his when you could. You had been leaving notes of thoughts you had overheard on Wesley and Giles’ desks ever since you realised what was going on with the school and the Hellmouth.

“If I got a penny for every thought I heard… I would be rich” You smiled, but you appeared washed out and weakened as you tried to raise yourself from your seat. This was a mistake, you began to go dizzy and tried to still yourself, raising your hand to your head. Without you noticing (or, admittedly himself until it happened) his hand rested on the back of yours. Your stomach flipped, an elation rising inside at the mere whisper of his touch.

He leaned in closer, his face now level with yours. The proximity sent shivers through your body. You closed your eyes, focusing only on his touch. No thoughts, not even your own should interrupt this. It was promise. Of care, of some deep down need to comfort you. No matter if his intentions were romantic or otherwise, just knowing he cared meant something. It was enough to keep you happy. You wanted to stay in this moment, where his touch was yours.

But, of course this was Sunnydale. Wesley had appeared to help you clear your mind. Enough to hear something.

Kill… Eat… Kill… Eat again

“No!” You shouted, a completely different style of shivers now went up your spine. You were horrified at the images you were starting to see. The thoughts were getting stronger which meant… they were getting closer. If only you could make out exactly where.

“Y/n, I apologise. I should n-not have thought to-”

“Wesley, no, that was- well, it-” You paused and sighed. This was a conversation for another time. You just wanted to tell him how much the tenderness of his touch meant, but it really wasn’t the right moment, “Demon. I heard the demon! I think it’s in the basement” You rushed out, gesturing for him to follow you.

How is that possible? We checked at least a dozen times.

It could have been hiding or somewhere else – it could have even been invisible. I just know where it is now.

You nodded, thinking this was the only reply you had given him. He blinked not once but twice. He was surprised to say the least. You had communicated to him without speaking. You were fascinating to him. He looked at your lips before scanning the rest of your face as he thought how much he wished that he could…

No. Better not think on this now. His mind may run wild and the last thing he needed was you catching this particular train of thought.

You stepped gingerly into the dark basement, the light was very dim but you were both able to just about get your bearings. You could hear the thoughts again, louder and louder as you approached. All this guy seemed to do was think about killing and eating.

Talk about one track mind.

Wesley made a noise that sounded like a laugh. You didn’t realise that it was in reaction to your own thoughts. But any remnants of a smile was wiped off his face when he saw the scene before him.

There was a pit of what appeared to be lava with a green coloured demon hanging precariously above it. In the corner of the room, a man that looked human apart from the sizeable canines and horns protruding from his face.

Without thinking and notedly before the demon in the corner of the room had spotted you, you started to pull at the rope that the green demon was suspended from. Wesley, although the frown on his face read as a reluctance to assist what would usually be seen as the enemy, came and helped you anyway. Especially when he saw how affected you clearly were by what you could hear of the demon’s thoughts.

You managed to untie the rope that was fixed in place to keep the demon suspended just as the man who intended to dine on them began to run at you. This made your hand slip, letting go of the rope and making the green-hued figure drop into the pit with a scream.

As Wesley moved to protect you, using the skills he could remember through the fog of fear he was experiencing you ran to the pit. You gasped, pleased to see the four hands were clinging onto the crumbling side of the pit. The demon hadn’t fallen into the pit yet – you still had time to help.

“Take my hand!” You shouted over the noise, opening your palm for the green demon to take. You could hear the demon’s desperation, their thoughts that it was the end. You couldn’t bear it. You had to help them.

“Go” Wesley shouted to the green demon as you both helped them up from the pit. The demon whose thoughts brought you into the basement became even more mad at this and began to attack you fiercely.

You managed to keep the demon at bay until reinforcements arrived. Buffy and Angel soon ran into the basement and held off the demon from snapping off your limb and eating it like a chicken leg. You did all you could to assist with the fight and shouted out the demon’s intended movements out to give the others the upper hand.

Wesley walked you home that evening, after Willow spoke an incantation to close up the lava pit and make it very hard to enter the basement (the last thing you needed was anyone else setting up (evil) shop down there).

You continued to be a big part of the group as the months went on. You would spent a lot of your time researching and learning all you could from demons and the students to help Buffy fight. You didn’t have the heart to tell the others that they weren’t fooling anyone – most people had at least some idea there was something special about her and her super-strength.

As you did your bit to save the world, your mind was never far from him. You had grown close, savouring every detail you learned about him. You knew that through the sometimes clumsy and ‘proper’ exterior, there was a kind and well-intentioned heart. He wished to open up to you, but his upbringing made it hard for him to grow out of the need to hide his emotions and feelings.

He caught your eye during a meeting and you couldn’t stop your own thoughts from flowing.

I love him. Wow, is this what being in love feels like? I can’t stop thinking about him…

He smiled wider as you thought this which made you want to hold him into you even more. Everything about him, from his need to stick to what he had been taught to the letter to the deeply sensitive and caring parts of him he revealed with out even meaning to and everything in between.

He was soon the reason you arrived at work with a smile on your face. Just to catch a glimpse of him or hear something from him. It meant everything.

Graduation day came and so did the battle against the Mayor and his ascension. As rubble, dust and demons lay defeated around you, he made his way straight towards you. Ensuring that you were safe. That you hadn’t been hurt.

“I think I’m out of a job” You joked, still catching your breath after the fight. But this was a futile task as Wesley rested his hand against the base of your skull and pulled you towards him, crashing your lips with his. 

His lips glided over yours, a subtle urgency igniting your continued passion for him. You grasped at the shirt that had been ripped in the fight, feeling the warmth of his skin as you kissed him with all the feeling within. He pulled you nearer still, no matter how close you were to him would never be enough.

This fight had put everything into perspective. He needed you, he loved you just as he was sure you felt the same. He couldn’t hide away from revealing the deepest parts of himself from you anymore. He had only kept it because he was sure that his mind was deceiving him. You couldn’t possibly feel those things for him. Those things he had dreamed and hoped and wished that you would say. It had appeared too good to be true.

“My entire life I have found myself having to prove myself, to work to be accepted. When I met you, without realising until much after, my heart started beating again. I began to live because you made me feel like I matter. That I could make a real difference.”

“Wes, you make a difference everyday…”

“Well, before I met you it appears that I had been living my life wrong”

What does this mean?

“It means that, uh, I was miserable. You showed me a joy to life that I had not even considered” He replied before continuing to explain how much you meant to him, “You do the right thing, the decent thing, no matter if it is written in the watchers handbook or otherwise. To assist even a demon in their hour of need, I am in awe of you. Truly”

You smiled, leaning in to press your lips against his again, ready to tell him exactly how you felt about him. You couldn’t hide this feeling you held, your soft adoration enveloping him in the best way.

As you leaned against him, you realised something – he had just answered your thought. He knew everything, had heard every adoring thought fact that he had been too polite to reveal to you until recently. He had been able to read your thoughts.

You had been so wrapped up in your feelings in a way you never had before, your feelings for him were just so strong, that you had managed to broadcast your own consciousness into his mind. Only such strong and true feelings could do this, you were sure of it. He confirmed this to you later when he revealed he had done extensive research on it.

The soft aroma of love now surrounded you, it smelled of him. Cologne and old books. This smell surrounded the area, which thankfully masked the smell of dead demon in the air. You walked away from the battle, victorious, now in more ways than one. You felt as if you were on top of the world, invincible by his side.

With his confession and your minds entwined with the deepest sentiments of love, you didn’t think twice when he asked you to leave Sunnydale with him. You would embark on a trip spanning several states, the two of you fighting evil and helping others. You grew closer, adoring every inch of the other and finally made your home, at least for a while, in Los Angeles.

[justnerdthings]

New Beginnings Ch. 1

Female Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Note: First fic I'm posting. Be gentle. I have a tendency to edit my stuff to death, but i'm gonna fight it. Anyway. This is the first chapter of a Mortal Kombat reader insertion fic. Takes place a few years before the new 2021 movie. Feel free to send me questions, concerns, comments, whatever. But remember this is for fun.

A mix of voices slowly stirred you. You didn’t understand what they were saying. A mumbling. Hushed. And as you finally became aware that you had woken up, it took everything in you to just open your eyes.

Cold. It was so cold. You could feel your body begin to shiver. As you looked up at the ceiling, you noticed immediately, even with heavily blurred vision, that this was not your ceiling. Or any ceiling you knew.

The familiar wave of anxiety crashed over you. Every nerve in your being came to life as adrenaline was instantly pumped through your veins. Where were you? You moved to sit up. Your head spun. Your stomach came up to your chest. A weak cry escaped you as you fell back on what you thought was a table.

The voices silenced. You had only just noticed that before you heard footsteps coming closer. The sound of fabric flapped.

You were holding your head as you dared to open your eyes and see only a vague, unfocused image of someone standing over you. “Wh-... Who are you?” You could barely speak.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now,” a soft, masculine voice answered.

You didn’t feel like protesting. Your head… Your head was throbbing. You’d had headaches before, but this took the cake. This was the blue ribbon of headaches. You felt your stomach lurch again. You gagged. Oh no, you thought. Your mouth watered. Oh no, you dreaded. You knew it was coming. “Bu-... Bucket-!” You barely got the word out as you rolled to your side and stomach acid spewed from your mouth.

Whoever was standing there had seen it coming. Perhaps your skin turned white or green just before it happened. It all went into a bucket… At least you thought it was a bucket. “It’s okay. Let it out,” the man soothed. You felt a hand begin to rub your back, and that alone was enough to fire off your nerves and make you hurl again. “That’s it. Take your time.”

You must have thrown up at least twice more before you began dry heaving. Nothing left to come up. Rolling onto your back, your breath was labored, chest rising just to fall like a brick landed on it, repeatedly. Oh, God, what the hell happened?

You’d passed out.

You’d woken again to voices. This time, they were more clear. You still couldn’t make out the words exactly, but you knew they were words at least. Eyes opening, they slowly focused. The ceiling was definitely not yours. It was stone… A cave? Orb lanterns hung above you to light the room. Your head was only slightly less throbbing. Slowly, ssslllooowwwlllyyy, you pushed yourself up. Something pulled at your hand. Looking to it, you noticed an IV line. What the hell? Who put that in your hand? Your head spun, but thankfully not nearly as bad as before. You could handle it.

“Oh! You’re up!” A voice called. You turned your head to see… a monk? Was he a monk? What the hell was a monk doing here?... Where was here? “Yes. Good. You’re up,” he said, with an accent and mild broken english. He stopped at the side of the table you sat on and bowed his head. “How do you feel? Should I grab another bucket?” He asked, voice full of concern.

God, you felt awful. Like the hangover from hell. You shook your head to the monk and held your head. “Where am I?” you croaked.

“Ah. Good. You’re speaking much better now.” He was nodding. “Where you are is not important right now. Please, tell me how you feel.”

“What?... No, where am I?” You insisted.

The monk had frowned, but seemed to have expected some protest. “You are in the temple of Lord Raiden. He sent for you after he sensed your danger.” “What? Lord who?” You rubbed your head and finally looked up at the monk, your brows knotted in confusion.

“Lord Raiden. A very generous Lord. He protects Earthrealm--your homeword.”

“My what?” What the hell was this guy talking about?

He seemed troubled suddenly. How could he explain simply… There was no simplicity in this situation. “Forgive me. You’re safe. You are among friends. Please…” He turned and reached for a side table where a clay pitcher sat. He poured water into a clay cup and offered it with such grace.

You took it. “Thanks…” Something about accepting drinks from strange men went through your mind as you looked into the cup. It looked like water. It smelled like… well, nothing. Did water even have a scent? You hesitantly took the tiniest sip you could… It tasted like nothing. Maybe it was water.

But he sensed your suspicion. He poured another cup, making sure you watched him, and then drank the cup dry. He showed you the empty cup to prove it.

You looked to your cup. To him. To the pitcher. Back to your cup. Well, if he would drink it… You took a committed sip and let the water wash over your mouth and down your irritated throat. It must have gotten burned when you threw up. You finished the cup and looked back to the monk. He held out his hand with a smile. You handed him the cup. He refilled it. He handed it back. You drank from it again, more comfortably.

“Yes. Good. Not too much. Don’t want it coming back up,” he said and sat the pitcher back on the side table. He gave you a grateful bow, for what, you didn’t know, and stepped away. “You gave us quite a scare when you got here,” he spoke as he ruffled through old cabinets and old clay jars on the other side of the room. “You’re lucky to be alive. Thankfully your arcana surfaced just in time, by what I was told.”

Your what? You eyed the pitcher of water again, then the IV still stuck in your hand. You ripped it out with a small grunt and tossed it to the floor. Looking up to the IV bag, you reached and turned it over to read the label. It was a simple saline. A breath of relief escaped you. At least it wasn’t something harmful.

“Yes. Very lucky indeed. Fortune favors you, I see. Very good.”

The hell was this old man talking about? You reached for the pitcher as he went on and poured yourself some more water.

“Lord Raiden will certainly be pleased that you’ve recovered. Oh…” He paused, a look of realization crossed his face. “I should send word to him that you’ve woken again. This time for the better it seems.” He left the cabinets and walked over to the curtain that separated this room from a small hallway. He stuck his head out and began calling out, “Brother Zhao! Please send word to Lord Raiden! Our guest has woken! She seems well!”

Brother Zhao? Where the hell—

“Yes. Good.” He was back at the cabinets again. “Here we go.” He finished with whatever it was and walked back over to you with a bowl, offering it to you.

Looking into the bowl, your brows rose at the sight of some sort of… goop. You looked to him, at a loss of what it was.

“Ah. Yes. Okay. For your head. Taste awful, but works good. Just a bite.”

Your expression only changed slightly, but the volume was much higher. No way where you going to eat that. What even was it?

“No? Okay.” He set the bowl on the side table next to the pitcher. “It’s here if you change your mind.”

Unlikely, you thought. But your head continued to throb.

“Perhaps food then?” He asked, and you suddenly became very aware of your very empty stomach. “Dinner will be served soon. I’m sure there will be something there you like.”

You had to change the subject. Your stomach had awoken with the offer of food. “Who are you?” You asked.

“I am Brother Feng,” He answered with modesty.

“So... This is a temple. You must be a monk?” You questioned.

“Yes!” He answered in soft glee. “I serve Lord Raiden.”

“Who is Lord Raiden?”

“He is the watcher and protector of Earthrealm.”

“So… Like a god?”

“God. Yes.”

“Okay. So, this is a religious temple?”

“No.”

Your head was spinning again, but this time in sheer confusion.

“Not religious as you know. It is merely a shelter for the Order of Light.”

“Order of Light?”

“Yes.”

“Which is…?”

“The warriors of Earthrealm.”

“Right…” Of course. How could you be so thick, you thought with heavy sarcasm. “Are there other… realms?”

“Yes. Many.”

“How many?”

“I do not know exactly… Most have been destroyed. They no longer exist as they once did. Barren. Empty.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, that is a long story. Too long for me to explain in one sitting. I’m sure Lord Raiden will tell you everything himself.”

“He’s going to talk to me?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Like… He’s a person? I thought gods were spiritual.”

“He is both.”

You weren’t sure what to say. What could you say? You were going to meet a god… or someone anyway. “Okay,” Was the only word that left your mouth before you sipped from your cup.

A knock came at the wall on the other side of the curtain and Brother Feng turned to answer. With his head poked out to see who it was, he spoke with controlled joy. “Master Liu. Wonderful. Did Lord Raiden send you?”

“Brother Feng,” A soft voice answered behind the curtain. “Yes. He was told she had awoken?”

“Yes, yes! Come.” Brother Feng had stepped aside and a much younger, much more handsome man walked into the room. He wore a black, sleeveless gi with a red sash tied around his waist. In his left hand was a string of prayer beads he seemed to be idly fidgeting with. His deep brown eyes found you instantly and to your surprise, he bowed at the waist to you.

“I am Liu Kang. I come on behalf of Lord Raiden. He wishes to speak with you if you are well enough.” His voice was so controlled, yet so relaxed and smooth. You could tell he was a man of well manners… perhaps a monk himself? He did have prayer beads. But damn, he was just too handsome to be a monk.

Wait. What? What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this guy!

He was easy on your eyes though. How could you not notice.

“Miss…?” His concern pulled you from your head.

“Oh. Sorry. I just… Headache,” you admitted. It was only a tiny lie. You’d gotten distracted. But you did have a headache. Was that bad? You were in a temple? Did they know it was a lie?

“Perhaps I should return later,” Liu Kang suggested, not at all seeming upset with the idea. “After you rest some more.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to this guy. He just oozed patience. “N-no. It’s okay. I can speak with him.”

Liu Kang’s concern was drowned by a small smile. He bowed his head and stepped aside with a gentlemanly gesture towards the curtain. “After you. Please.”

Where the hell were you? A temple. Lord Raiden’s temple. Okay. But where? You scooted to the edge of the table and placed your cup on the side table. Brother Feng had come to your side and offered his assistance. You were thankful for it. Your legs wobbled as you pushed onto them. Just how long had you been asleep? Looking over yourself, you were still wearing your own clothes.

Brother Feng allowed you to use him to steady yourself as you willed your legs to work. By the time you reached the curtain you were confident enough to let go of him, but you could feel him watching you with great attention. You could feel Liu Kang had taken over as you stepped out into a small hallway.

The hall was lined with more rooms curtained off. It became apparent that this had been some sort of makeshift hospital. An eerie, familiar feeling set in. Modern technology contrasted the antique furniture as you made your way down the hall.

“This way.”

You snapped back to focus on Liu Kang, who now gestured towards an actual door. A simple wooden door. You turned and walked… albeit a bit shaky. Liu Kang opened the door for you and let you step through first. You’d then stepped into a long, torch lit hallway. The walls were still cave-like. You couldn’t help it. You had to ask. “Are we underground?”

Liu Kang smiled and shook his head as he led you down the hall, staying at your side. He kept a watchful eye on you, seeming ready to catch you at any second. “No. Not exactly. This temple was carved into the side of a ravine. You’ll be able to see once we turn that corner ahead.”

“Ravine?...” Suddenly, you remembered your fear of heights. Okay, fear wasn’t the right word. Phobia. That fit better.

Liu Kang seemed to notice your sudden fear, because he now turned his head to look at you completely. His eyes searched your face. “Yes. A ravine. Are you alright? Do you need to rest?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m fine. Just… Not a fan of heights.”

He seemed to relax with that confession. He nodded. “We will pass the view as quick as you can manage.”

You nodded. Good. Hopefully you could avoid the view completely if you just looked at the floor the whole time.

“My apologies, there is no other route from here,” guilt was heavy in his voice.

“No. It’s okay. I just wont look. If I don’t look, I can’t see how high up I am. It’ll be like it never happened,” You lied nervously. Truth was, you were so afraid of heights, that even climbing a step ladder made you nervous. Always had. Ever since you’d fallen out of that tree as a kid.

Liu Kang continued to watch you. You glanced up to him and noticed just how his eyes seemed to look not at you, but into you. You looked away, back to the floor as he led you around the corner.

“Don’t look,” He warned with a gentle voice. You took a deep breath and tried to walk faster. But of course, you snuck a peak out of the corner of your eye and caught the sight of the setting sun. Not a cloud in sight. Stars were just beginning to shine… Then your eyes drifted down.

You saw it. The ravine. You gasped and froze. Oh no. No. No. Too high. Way too high. You stopped dead in your tracks. Liu stopped just a step ahead of you. He looked back with a furrowed brow.

“I looked…” You sheepishly admitted.

He frowned. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

He stepped to the other side of you, blocking your view. His eyes drifted down to your chest and you felt the instinct to slap him for looking, for being a perv.

He must have noticed your disapproval. As he looked back up to your face, a red hue came to his cheeks. “Oh. No.” He held his hands up defensively. “I did not mean to offend you. I was just watching your breath.”

Yeah, sure. You’d heard that one before… No you hadn’t. That was a new one.

“Your breathing is shallow.”

“Kinda normal when you’re scared,” you quipped.

“Breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He gestured with his hand the rise and fall of his own diaphragm as he took a deep breath. You tried to copy his breath, but yours shook. “Good. I promise, you’re okay. You’re not going to fall. Come here.” He took a small step forward and you watched his feet. Taking another forced deep breath, you willed forward. He took another step. You took another step. Another step. Another step. “Breathe,” he coached gently. You sucked in another breath. “There. Keep going.” He began to walk at a normal pace and you stayed right with him.

When you thought you couldn’t do it anymore, you reached the next corner and were again surrounded by the cave's walls. A heavy, relieved breath escaped you as you leaned against one of the walls. And to his credit, Liu Kang didn’t say an ill word of it. He seemed to relax with you, as if worried you were going to panic. Which you did.

“See? You did it,” He told you, that warm smile on his face again.

You nodded and let another relieved breath leave you. “Please tell me I don’t have to do that again.” But his silence made you look back up to him.

He frowned.

You groaned with dread.

“I think we’ll focus on getting rid of your fear of heights. Training won't do you any good if you can’t focus,” He thought aloud.

“Training? What?”

“Lord Raiden will explain.”

“Just how many more views do I have to walk by before I get to see this guy?”

“... I will block your view as best I can.”

You groaned again. That meant there was at least one more hall like that one. Hopefully just one.

It wasn’t just one.

It was four.

Four.

Why did this Lord Raiden have to build his house in a damn hole in the Earth?!

You couldn’t do this anymore. No. No more views. Walls were good. Solid, windowless walls were good. Liu Kang placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“This fear is a problem.”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“But you faced it. Five times. You could have stopped before the first.”

You groaned.

“You have a brave soul,” He said with confidence. “I can see why Lord Raiden was adamant about saving you.”

“Saving me?” You looked to him. At this point, a confused expression could just be permanently plastered to your face and it’d always be accurate around here.

“Yes. Come on. Only a little more way to go.” He stepped ahead of you. You followed.

"There you are," a deep voice called as Liu Kang finally led you into a large room of pillars that resembled Tesla coils. You looked to see a man, dressed in all white with a harvester hat that obstructed most of his face from view.

Liu Kang bowed his head to his Lord in greeting as he walked towards the man in white. "Lord Raiden, she is exactly as you described."

You, once again, confused, looked to Liu Kang as you followed him past the electric pillars. You could feel the electricity in the air and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Is she? That's great news." Raiden tilted his head up just enough so now you could see two glowing blue eyes staring right at you.

A chill was sent down your spine, but you stood your ground, mostly curious about this man, this place. Was he really a god?

"Yes. I am really a god," Raiden answered your thoughts. Your eyes widened and a sense of dread filled you.

Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think about Liu Kang's ass, you thought frantically. You'd been stealing glances of it the whole way here.

Raiden grinned. Then he laughed openly.

Ah, shit. Your face grew hot. It must have been red as a firetruck.

Liu Kang, however, was now the one confused.

[gayboysteve]

I don't even genuinely consume much Watcher content lmao I am not in any way particularly attached to them than I am any nebulous person I watch on television. I never said the responsibility falls solely on the audience just that we share SOME of it as unpaying members receiving the benefits of their labor. I don't agree with the way they went about it, or necessarily even the idea of a streaming platform, but I'm saying that we DO owe creators something in exchange for their work and that they ARE entitled to the idea of people wanting to pay.

I can admit they poorly handled the reveal of it without acting like some kind of monetization through the audience is not an unreasonable request. We also don't know if they hired people while the business was doing better and now have a harder time with advertisers which is something they specifically mentioned. That they haven't been doing as well with them lately, which would certainly decrease the amount of income coming into the company. I can absolutely think that trying to save jobs rather than just cutting them in that situation is a viable response.

I've also worked for a small business and had to do plenty of work in terms of market research. We don't know what numbers they crunched behind the screen simply because they didn't give us a poll. I certainly never polled our customers at my job over whether we should increase our hourly rates on electrical jobs, we merely adjusted with inflation and the cost of materials and explained that to customers because it was out of our hands. If the things we need to do our work cost more there really isn't anything we can do other than charge the customers higher in order to not sustain a loss or just simply break even. Maybe that depends on whatever industry you work in but I haven't seen a decrease in customers over this.

My main issue is the way that everyone seemed to come up with ideas they could've made money instead that were absolutely unfeasible or downright cruel- like the extremely vocal amount of people that stated they should just fire a bunch of their employees. During an economic recession. They have responsibilities as business owners but we have a responsibility as consumers as well.

IF we want their product.

If you don't want the product then it simply doesn't matter. But if you DO how can you say that it's unreasonable to request supporting a small indie creator? Just because they didn't necessarily make the greatest business moves also did not at all justify the kind of behavior I saw this weekend. Stalking their wives on social media to comment on how much each item they wore or bought cost. The blatant racism towards Steven. I saw a group of a couple of different people talk about planning to go to the live show to spit in Shane's face. The sheer hatred and vitriol and readiness to completely abandon the show as well as acting like they were a rich Fortune 500 company as well as comparing them to JEFF BEZOS and the 1%. The tons and tons of eat the rich comments. The constant talk of feeling personally betrayed. All this over disliking a decision instead of just people saying "hey we don't like this".

Part of it is certainly the parasocial relationship that a lot of viewers have with the guys, but some of it DOES come down to entitlement. I noticed a slew of people suddenly chiming in they'll be subscribing now, when those same people were talking about six dollars as if it would throw them into financial ruin.

well that was fast, but i feel like i’m being guilt tripped for feeling disappointed—i might be the only one but still— and now they changed it so it will release first on their platform and a month later in youtube for free

the mention of their employees is what i find most guilt tripping like i was the one to hire them and take away their pay even though this could have all been avoided if they did a poll or asked an expert. i feel like downsizing could have helped as well

[astersofthesky]

Reasons why I ship LawLight

It's been a year since I last watched Death Note and up to this day, it still remains on my TOP 5 FAVORITE ANIME (alongside Attack on Titan, Daiya no Ace, Gintama, and the Inazuma Eleven franchise).

Be as it is, the ship between L and Light holds a special place here in my heart. And today I want to talk about the reason why I am head over heels for this painstakingly beautiful ship.

For a quick heads-up. "LawLight" is a non-canon ship pair from Death Note. The two person involved are Yagami Light also known as "Kira" and the Great Detective L otherwise known as Ryuuzaki. I believe that their trope belongs to the enemies to lovers. They are also the most famous ship for the said fandom.

I admit that I am a certified fujoshi. So when scenes like walking together under falling sakura leaves, going to a cafe for their date to confirm their suspicions about each other's identity, and was even CHAINED 24/7 were shown, I can't help but ship them despite the fact that they are LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL AND CATCH EACH OTHER.

Actually for me, what makes this ship so appealing is their cat and mouse chase. A criminal and a detective. The spark and sexual tension apparent in their battle of wits. Who shall fall first? Who shall emerge victorious? And I firmly think that this dynamic between them is also one of the biggest factors why this anime/manga became such a success.

In the eyes of a shipper, some of their interactions are seen as a potential fuel to lit a burning flame called romance. Another thing, they also complement each other.

Why? Well, let's look at Yagami Light first.

Light used the notebook to alleviate his boring mundane life. Because of his high IQ, normal things don't ellicit excitement for him. Also, always hearing about everyday crimes, his strong sense of justice tells him to rid the world of this disgusting humans who continue to cause chaos for the world. So, immediately grabbing the death note as an opportunity to make his ideals a reality, KIRA IS BORN.

Of course, no matter how good the intention is. Taking lives is still a murder. And the fact that Light wanted to take advantage of the situation to become GOD OF THE NEW WORLD, it's true essence is slowly turning into selfishness. Just like any ordinary case, the police have taken interest, no, it's more accurate to say that they were FORCED to take interest. With no more cards to play, the worldwide police decided to ask help from their trump card. Yes, the world's greatest detective L.

Hiding in a single gothic letter and synthetic voice, Light had found his other half. The yin to his yang. Why you ask?

It's simple. L is the only person who can match his intelligence. Who can see through his barrage of lies and alibis. He was the only one who doubted him, the only one who almost sent him to his doom.

He was the ultimate obstacle Light needed to overcome. Because of this thrill, of this danger, Light found true challenge. Other than the joy of killing criminals for his dream, battling with L brought an unexpected bliss deep within his soul. Because of L, his once dull world had been painted with complicated colors. L is the only one who can understand Light.

He is his enemy.

He is his Equal.

He is his captor.

The same goes for L.

Being the number 1 detective in the world, I bet that cases has become repetitive for him. With his astounding deduction skills, he could immediately solve a case while eating his favorite sweets. Thus the appearance of Kira is a mystery for him.

A highly difficult game for him to solve and win. As he said himself, he is childish and he hates to lose. So in order to win, he's given away his identity. He steps out of his shadows and approached Kira himself. Maybe it's a call for responsibility, a call for justice, or a call for his pride, whatever his reason is, he's willing to risk his life.

When he made contact with Light, he had realized that Light is the only other person who can see through him. His trials, his tests. Light never fails to amaze and surprise L. He had even considered him his successor, even though he only used it to test Light, with the latter quickly grasping the subtle accusation.

He is his enemy.

He is his captee.

He is Equal.

No one knows if their relationship had gone beyond detective and a criminal. If they ever had a genuine conversation. One without lies and hidden intention.

A talk as L and Light.

Looking at a watcher's perspective. A single particular scene showed a glimpse of their relationship. The rooftop and foot massage scene who fueled a lot of LawLight shippers.

"The bells are unusually loud today." - L

At the rooftop, L had asked Light if he had ever uttered a truth once in his life. With Light regaining his memories, L knows that this attempt is futile, yet he still tries. And maybe, even held a little hope that Light would surrender himself.

Light on the other hand, as expected caught the meaning of his question, within that short silence, he contemplated his answer even if it's just for mere seconds. But because Light had already steeled his resolve, he chose to lie.

He had already made a choice.

And that is to kill L.

And L himself knows it.

At the stairs, an intimate scene between them is shared. Both are drenched in the rain, then L suddenly offered a foot massage to Light. For non-shippers, they say that it's a Bible reference.

But for people like me, it's simply nothing but a bittersweet moment where for once, emotions are stirred and shared.

The atmosphere, their longing stares.

Light drying L's hair.

The exchange of words.

It truly is a very painful and touching picture.

"It will be lonely isn't it? You and I will be parting ways soon".

L is known for not showing his true emotions. Yet in here, he bares everything. From the way he looks at Light and that slight curve on his mouth, like he's very regretful of something. Maybe it's because he wasn't able to personally give him the verdict or it can also be what ifs and what would they have become if they didn't meet in this kind of circumstances.

On Light, he looked shock and somewhat sad. They say it was an act, but the knowledge of his arch-nemesis soon dying, the one who has been with him since this "chase" started, the one being who gave him thrill and pushed him to his limits, the one who for months, was chained with him 24/7, the only one who could stand as his equal, the one who made him feel, losing that person will surely give you mixed emotions, and I believe that the sadness there is genuine, even though it had been overshadowed by his delight for victory.

It was only a for a short moment but for once, they've dropped all facades as they face each other as L and Light, not Ryuuzaki and Kira.

After L's death, Light is shown to have lose some of his sanity. I've read in a site before telling that L was the one who's holding his ground. And with him gone, with the thrill of danger gone, Light suddenly found himself at loss. He spent months trying to rid of his enemy. His disappearance had caused a void in his heart.

I remember a certain scene where Light imagined L sitting at his usual chair. His eyes were dead and devoid of color. That's where he also started to lower his guard down. For him, L is his only formidable opponent, his other half. He is his equal. It proves with the appearance of Near, where Light says that he's far inferior to L. That he doesn't deserve to wear his mask.

Light had come to respect L.

In Light's final moments, he sees L. A hallucination some says. But they're missing a point here.

The fact that L showed up, either his soul or an imagination, means that he had become an important figure to Light. Maybe he was thinking what L said during the times that they are wearing the chains.

"As long as we are wearing this chains. You and I are bound to share the same fate. If you die, I die." - L Lawliet

Yes, the chains are gone, physically. But because Light had allowed L to become an important piece of his life, he had secured the chain for L to held him captive for as long as he's alive...and if you let your imagination wild, even after death.

This are the reasons why I fell in love with this ship.

They're both broken.

One is blinded by power.

One had secluded himself from the outside world.

Their chase will never be forgotten. A game that only the two of them understood knowing from the beginning that they will never achieve a happy ending. This painful and bittersweet ship will go down in history.

[aestheticaxolotl]

Lets Talk About Gunnar Maelstrom

Evil Daddies is where it’s at.

One of the meanings of the word "Maelstrom" is 'A situation of state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

Let me start with Maelstrom, usung the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, this will be hard seeing his major inclusion to the story so please bear with me once more as I do this).

Professor Maelstrom is a middle-aged man with pale skin and white hair with a receding hairline. He has broad shoulders and wears a black blazer over a dark gray turtleneck. As stated previously, Maelstrom is seen as being an almost unnaturally pale color, hinting towards possible Albinism.

Now, Middle aged according to the wiki page is between 50 and 60. Seeing the receding hairline and the lines on his face (Also can someone point me to a source about those random chin hairs? Like please I need context). 

He obviously has stress and sleep lines. I imagine these are due to his life choices and idiot operatives. His ethnicity is stated as being Swedish but continues to contradict itself when it later states that Maelstrom is from Scandinavia. I think this is to throw the readers and deep show watchers off and it would work better if both ethnicity and race were left as unknown. 

Now we move on to the easier things, personality, which is LONG. So let me start writing!

Of the five members of V.I.L.E's faculty, Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group, being the first to speak as well as hand out orders. As one may expect, Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry. Professor Maelstrom often likes to tinker with his patients' psyches and enjoys psychologically evaluating students, much like someone finding joy in pulling the wings off a butterfly. He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him. He also has an apparent fondness for the more psychotic recruits. In keeping with his name, his main desire is to spread chaos and disorder, with any actual gain being a secondary concern at best. Carmen considered him to be creepy, and rightfully so after he and Dr. Bellum collaborated to wipe Crackle's brain. Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker as he has no tolerance for her stuck up behavior towards him. He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens. His use of the term "bait" as a pun is in reference to fishing bait, and in the novel adaptation, it is used twice. Further expanding the psychological exam scene from the show, in the novel, he declares that Carmen gave the "wrong" answer to the Rorschach test, stating that the image was a seahorse. The novelization expanded his sense of humor, though it mentions that even that had a dark and unpredictable tinge to it, showing delight in the lengths that his students would go in order to not be called upon in class. The show does have him throw a small quip every once in a while, often tinged with exasperation at his colleagues' antics or ignorance. He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style, having asked Le Chevre and El Topo in the "The Fishy Doubloon Caper" to acquire an Ecuadorian Eight Escudos doubloon to be melted into solid gold cufflinks.

As done in my previous post, I will be diving deeper into the statement in the bolded font. 

Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group,

I don’t see any major reason for this face besides that there is a level of respect among the Faculty that centers around Maelstrom, seeing as he is one of the psychologically smarter than any of the other members, except Shadowsan but that is a post for another day. He is a very scary character because he is unpredictable, and possibly in the minds of the other, can be blamed for their crimes should they ever had been caught, but this leads me to my second quip with Gunnar Maelstrom.

Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry

When one looks up the term ‘Criminally insane’ we get the following “an accused person that is deemed to be suffering from cognitive illness or fault which frees then of lawful accountability for the unlawful behaviors” from https://psychologydictionary.org/criminally-insane/. 

I cannot at all say that I support this terminology on the stance that Maelstrom is more than aware of his action, to the point where he logically makes the choices to leave his fellow faculty behind at the prospect of capture. One cannot say that a “Criminally insane’ person is able to make these choices so quickly and with such calculation as to pack a go bag and hire an escape driver. But I digress.

He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him.

I don’t think that Maelstrom can stand to be labeled by other people. The exact use of the phrase “Weak-minded’ points me to believe that Maelstrom sees himself as mentally stronger, powerful, and far beyond that of the average person. This points to his class, and I’ll explain this in the next part, being the most critical and important to V.I.L.E as a whole.

His main desire is to spread chaos and disorder

This is WAY too specific to just be a drop in detail. No character is created be be a chaotic mixture, but they are built to SPREAD chaos, and Maelstrom is the perfect character to do this. His favor to Paperstar is a direct jab at this detail about him, she is an element of chaos that he put into play, the disorder of her is why he places her, while the other faculty hate Paperstar, he finds her the perfect wild card.

Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker 

I fully think this is, as the wiki and al of my sources say, Cookie Booker represents the original 1998 Carmen Sandeigo. And the loathing between them is a reference to the original game and books.

He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens.

Not gonna lie, but I love this detail. The details, that caused me to GO BACK and watch the episodes with Maelstrom, was that the man likes fish. This adds onto the effect that he is rather cold and uncaring towards people, seeing them a thing to observe and keep. I also just love the idea of him having a fish tank and spoiling his goldfish that he named Clyde or something equally related to big time crime, like Al Capone or as said before Clyde.

He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style

I’m sorry but Cleo and Gunnar challenging each other to see who is better in fashion? I’m sorry but they are the fashion police. Also I think this places WHO he is close to in the Faculty. I am very willing to bet that Maelstrom, who left Coach Brunt to drown and die, would NEVER leave Cleo or Bellum (Possibly) to die because they align more with HIS goals.

Brunt is... Dare I say... THE DUMBEST OF THE V.I.L.E FACULTY

WHAT DOES SHE DO?!?!

WHY IS SHE HERE?!

SHE’S STRONG AND THAT’S IT!

I digress (i used that phrase twice now), I just think his goals line up more with Cleo and (Again, possibly) Bellums’.

Now I go onto my favorite part of these paragraphs, the trivia/abilities. I love trivia/abilities, just because everyone sees this word and they are like ‘oh it’s just dumb facts’. BUT NO! It’s DENSTRAMENTAL to the character and links to their personalities.

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch. Professor Maelstrom specializes in psychiatry. He has been shown to have a favorite student, similar to the other faculty, in Paper Star; despite her disregard of the protocol in Mumbai. His grudge against Cookie Booker could be a subtle reference to the hostile relationship that his previous incarnation had with Carmen Sandiego in the 90's cartoon. As shown in the season three episode, The Haunted Bayou Caper, he has a fondness for Halloween.

Most od this is already covered, i know, so I won’t go over what I already did. SO let me just say... I know-

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch 

I NEED to SEE Maelstrom just- *Pulls and Bait and switch* -STEAL FROM SOMEONE. Like. I could totally believe that Maelstrom is the sleekest, most sneaky, most Swiper is swiping guy in the world. I am okay with letting them tell me this, but NO okay with them not SHOWING ME.

Netflix, I HOPE you see this so you can give me a SHOW on HOW GUNNAR MET MY MOTHER, COUNTESS CLEO.

He has a fondness for Halloween.

Charlie Pants. 

Do I need to say any more?

Okay, big ending time. So Gunnar Maelstrom, a deeply interesting character, mysterious backstory that a person can read into, different fun facts that lead to speculation and interest and amazing stories. I love Gunnar Maelstrom’s character, his personality, and his appearance. His effect? 100. His story? 100. His ability to make me rewatch the series? 100. 

Thanks for reading this. I’ll have another one out soon! Requests are open

[snarwor]

Happy holidays @anarchycox! I’m your secret santa! It was so hard keeping it secret for two months straight lolol. Have some SOFT Geralt/Lambert!! Thanks @thewitchersecretsanta for setting this up! More under the cut, or click the link to read on AO3!

Lambert always left Kaer Morhen first. The pass was still entrenched with snow, but he had his bombs, and if worse came to worst, Igni would light his way like it always had. He went on foot, drawling out his distaste of having someone to rely on and to rely on him in return, even if it would save his tired legs at the end of the day. He’d bought - actually bought - enchanted boots that never wore thin like the others, and he was determined to get his money’s worth. He always tried to set out before the sun rose, to watch the grasp of night slowly weaken through the trees as the day dawned, and him within it.

His attempts at disappearing in the night were never unobserved, however. Three pairs of golden eyes watched his descent down the main road from the keep, before two of those pairs turned away at the first turn that concealed his journey, the morning still too chilly to be considered merely brisk. One silent watcher kept his post, however, catching glimpses of the man’s trek down the clearly-defined, decades-trodden trail from the keep. It usually took three days down the mountain for even a Witcher’s eyesight to fail at tracking its quarry.

And Geralt’s eyes never once left him.

There were moments where Geralt doubted winters had even happened at Kaer Morhen, that the affection and touches and kind, soft words were just his imagination dealing with the aloof nature Lambert always put on at the beginning of spring. Imagine a better life, because you’re not going to get one, and all that horseshit.

Geralt made himself wait until Lambert had very definitely made his way off the mountain before packing up his own things, if the weather permitted. He wasn’t following him, of course, but the castle was just that much colder without the smirk-lipped man there to keep him warm while the wind howled and the snow snarled. Once again, there were two sets of eyes watching him, until he made the turn, and they turned away. Geralt spared one more look at the old keep, some pile of stones that didn’t mean home, but was where he had home.

And then he’d go. It became easier and easier for him to slot picking up Jaskier into his schedule, as he gathered start-of-season supplies. Enchantments and rations in Novigrad, his bard in Oxenfurt, some healing supplies from one particular hut along the Pontar.

Days passed too slowly without Lambert making fun of something. Jaskier was too polite, too refined to actually say the crass joke they were both thinking. Even Eskel, when he ran into the man, was as unchanging as a mountain, and just as unshakeable. It was no wonder he prowled the keep like an antsy panther before Lambert showed up. He was missing a part of him.

It was in the southern tip of Kaedwen where Geralt found Lambert. Jaskier was luckily away for some festival or another, and with summer in full swing, Geralt found himself grateful for the warmth, but it wasn’t a fire in a hearth he knew each crack of by heart. It was enough, though. Geralt wasn’t following Lambert, but when he’d heard “witcher” and “crazy” and “probably dead” in an old tavern, he knew the signs as well as if he’d been tracking a wyvern.

Lambert was, coincidentally, fighting a wyvern, and losing, when Geralt came upon him. He unsheathed his silver sword and prowled forward. The two were too wrapped in battle, too close, for Geralt to afford Lambert a distraction. When he found his in, he fired a crossbow bolt at the beast’s head, at least stunning it while Lambert found his bearings.

From just the cursory glance, Geralt could tell he hadn’t been eating well, and that the wyvern had injured his hand in the skirmish. On top of the other reckless Lambertisms he adhered to on the Path, like the sleepless circles around his eyes, the drawn tension in his shoulders speaking of desperation for victory, the worn look to his clothes telling of no time to waste on himself.

The younger witcher let out a snort. “Of course you’re here.”

“Good to see you too,” Geralt said with a roll of his eyes.

“Go ahead and step back, I’ve got this under control,” Lambert insisted, though he was obviously favoring his left hand.

“Sure. And when you lose that hand, you’ll have it half under control.”

“Oh, fine. Stay alert. I think there’s a mate.”

“You think there’s a—!?”

Just then, a second screech joined the first, the stunned wyvern having recovered. Geralt thought quickly, but Lambert had the advantage of already being in battle. He cast out with his left hand, pushing the wyvern back with an Aard, before charging the off-balance creature. Geralt did the same on the other wyvern, grounding it with a few crossbow bolts to its wings.

Fuck, I need to get better at aiming this thing.

The battle was difficult, but decisive when, after Geralt had taken the head of the second wyvern, Lambert had dropped a delayed-fuse bomb into the mouth of the first. They ran, but within a few seconds, were covered with wyvern innards. They spent several minutes heaving at the smell, but they were safe, and neither had sustained more injuries than a few bruises.

“See?” Lambert panted, a beautiful smile on his face, cutting through the gore across it. “Under control.”

In awe of him, as always, Geralt shook his head and wiped the mess off his face. “Come kiss me, you bastard.”

Lambert’s ears went a shade of red that had nothing to do with the flesh and blood on his face. He drifted over to Geralt as if pulled by a string, and they shared a quick, chaste kiss, blessedly free of gore. That longing and ache in his chest dissipated just a little. “Let’s go back to the inn. They promised a room. This is still just my contract.”

“Would’ve been just your grave, too,” Geralt said, receiving a smack to the arm for his troubles. “I’ll buy dinner. And a bath.”

Geralt didn’t want to acknowledge how hard the Path was on Lambert, not outside of Kaer Morhen when they could be free about it for as long as they wanted, but the many bowls of stew and bread he pressed on the man were enough. Geralt knew Lambert was the one who brought back the most supplies every winter, but it wore him to the bone each year. It frustrated Geralt each day, until he couldn’t count the other Witcher’s ribs with his eyes.

“Where’d you learn that trick with the gag reflex on the wyvern?”

“Same place I learned it on me,” Lambert said airily, making Geralt nearly inhale his beer. “Maybe I can show you later.”

“Fuck’s sake, Lambert,” Geralt laughed.

“‘Scuse me, are you the White Wolf?” a timid voice asked from the side. A boy, too young to be eating here, probably the innkeep’s son, stood almost behind a nearby column.

“My name is Geralt,” he answered, keeping his voice calm and even, a little higher than he usually did. Lambert had seen how Geralt changed when talking to children. It was sweet and kind and all the things people didn’t believe a Witcher could be. Lambert was happy to be able to see it this time. The boy’s eyes sparkled in awe, and he took a little step out from the side. “What’s your name?”

“Mardi,” the child said. “Can I see the silver sword?”

“It’s a little dirty right now, I’ve got this dagger, though.” Geralt shot Lambert an apologetic look, but still looked secretly pleased that the child had approached him without fear. Perhaps that bard is doing some good, Lambert thought to himself. Geralt pointed out the runes on the hilt, and showed off how they glowed when he spoke an incantation over them. “A sorceress I saved gave this to me as a gift.”

“If you saved me, I’d give you the butcher knife in the kitchen!” the boy declared. Geralt gave a closed-lip smile. His fangs were a little scary, even for eager children who play at slaying monsters with their friends.

“I would appreciate that very much, Mardi. I’m sure I’d just be happy if you stayed out of any situation that would warrant a Witcher’s saving from.”

Lambert saw reverence shine from the boy’s face, and his own ragged heart warmed at the sight. Geralt deserved love and affection, more than most, and had been only given scorn, more than most in that as well.

“This is my friend Lambert. I’ve known him since he was your age,” Geralt said, swinging his smile back over the table to an unprepared Lambert. He hid his face in his mug.

“Geralt…” Lambert protested.

“He killed the wyverns that were in the forest today,” Geralt told Mardi, a little conspiratorially. As standoffish as Geralt liked to think of himself, he was really quite good at stepping in and fulfilling social niceties. Maybe it was just dealing with pompous nobles that made him all stony and cold.

“Wow,” Mardi said, his adoration turning like a beam from a lighthouse. Lambert ducked his head a little, but acknowledged it.

“I am competent sometimes, you know.”

“I do,” Geralt said. “I do.”

The room they got was significantly better than the one Lambert would have gotten alone. Geralt had become a bit better of a negotiator since walking the Path with Jaskier, and knew that crossing his arms and glaring went a long way with the right person. Lambert whistled when he dropped his things to the floor, looking around at the swept floors, the comfortable carpet, the large tub behind a screen…

The one bed.

“He almost pissed himself when I pressed the issue. It’s the nicest room, but it’s also the one-beddiest room,” Geralt explained, dropping his saddlebags next to Lambert’s.

“Well, if it’s comfortable and you don’t snore, I think I’ll be able to get a few hours’ rest.”

“Hey,” Geralt said gently. Lambert looked at him, and was pulled into another kiss, this time with an embrace that made his knees weak.

“Hey,” Lambert said, when Geralt pulled back.

“Relax a bit for me? You should patch up your hand.” Geralt took a step backwards toward the door, like he didn’t want to look away from Lambert, though his mind had priorities elsewhere.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. ‘Sides. It’s a scratch.” Geralt didn’t argue with him. He didn’t want to waste the time they had together on harsh words and empty nastiness. He turned away to return down to the tavern floor, and left Lambert to patch himself up. He ordered a bath and two small trays of snacks, things they could pack away and ration for later easily, like cheeses and cured meats. Though he didn’t order any, they both came with two large, if weak, tankards of ale. It’d do. Geralt amused himself with keeping his face neutral to the peace offering from the tavern owner, but he shared a wink with Mardi as he passed by. He smirked to himself when he was finally back up in their room, balancing the food in his hands while knocking with his foot.

When Lambert opened the door, he’d taken off his shirt and jacket, revealing a poorly-bound chest and an even shittier-bandaged hand. “You planning on eating all of that? We just had dinner,” Lambert said, drawing Geralt’s attention away.

It didn’t work. “We are. Some’s for later. Let me rebandage those for you.”

“Fine.”

When Geralt sat down and pulled the chest wrappings away, it showed an almost-healed gash that must have given Lambert trouble on every hunt since he got it. “What did this?”

“Fearsome creature. Almost unkillable. It’s called a Lambert.”

Geralt shook his head with a smile. “You know, it’s always amazed me that you can be so competent, but only when you’re not thinking about it.”

“I’m competent all the time, but my bad luck is also pretty consistent.” They met each other’s rolling eyes. They didn’t really believe in luck. It’d been something of a joke they shared through all the years together. “I tripped.”

“On what?”

“Thin air.”

“Then what did this?”

“I was carrying a knife in my arms, trying to get something out of my pockets at the same time.”

“There it is.”

A knock at the door sounded, and for the next fifteen minutes, hot water was brought in to fill the bath. Geralt tipped the terrified inn workers and locked the door. “You need it more than I do. Get in.”

“Play doctor with me after?” Lambert smirked.

“Only if you’re good.” Geralt’s hand ghosted a little over the side of Lambert’s face, fond and still disbelieving that they’d ran into one another on the Path.

“You know, I’m not a toddler, you don’t have to follow me to the bath to make sure I scrub behind my ears.” Lambert stripped out of the rest of his clothes so he had an excuse to hide his reddening ears.

“You never scrub behind your ears.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” They gathered near the tub, their toiletries stacked on the low bench beside it. When Lambert’s back touched the hot water, he groaned. “Almost like home, when I close my eyes.”

Geralt said nothing about it, knowing the sentiment well. He washed Lambert’s hair, taking care to tickle behind his ears, and worked out the muscles in his shoulders. He took care washing Lambert’s wounds, and checked over the injury in his hand. It was an annoying sprain at most, and would be fine by morning.

“How’s your season going, then?” Lambert asked. He kept his eyes shut, for this all felt too much like a dream to accept as reality.

“It’s been dull. Lotta cold nights lately.” Geralt spoke of the last hunt he’d been on, just north of where they were now.

“Well it looks like I’ll have to change direction, with you clearing out all the contracts in my way.”

“Maybe we could walk together, til they get a bit more popular. End of summer means lots of monster babies.” Geralt stood, and readied a bit of medical supplies for after Lambert got out of the bath. The bastard seemed to be keen on taking his time soaking, however, so Geralt brought over the cheese and bread and meat. “Open up.”

“Wha—!” Lambert got a mouth full of bread, and had to chew to not choke. “You asshole.”

“Quiet, it’s romantic.”

“Choking a man in a bath is romantic?”

“Yes,” Geralt deadpanned. He fed Lambert his share of the food, until he wanted his turn in the bath. Lambert lay on the bed, completely nude and drying off in the sheets like a bastard. “There’s more food and ale on the table,” Geralt said, not indulging as he’d do if he were alone. He washed himself well, and stood, remaining naked like Lambert.

Geralt wrapped Lambert’s hand, running the tips of his fingers over where it was most sensitive and ticklish. Lambert flicked him in the forehead, but allowed himself to be patched up. It was hard to do it himself, especially on his hand, since he only had one other to work with.

“Oh. I remembered. I got you something.” Lambert stood after the gash on his side was patched up, and bent over his bags. He knew he was putting on a good show for Geralt, who gave a hum of appreciation, as if on cue.

Lambert stood again, and brought the item over. “Saw this in a stall in a town not too south of here. They were making them for practically nothing, painted right over another one for a few crowns.”

It was a Gwent card, the backing showing it was part of a Monsters pack, one that Lambert typically favored. Geralt usually ran with a Northern Kingdoms pack, but had been growing quite a little collection to impress Lambert with, and offer as bets when the coin ran out in wintertime. On the other side of the card, there was a fierce, but incredibly detailed drawing of Geralt. “The artist said he’d seen you once or twice, always running through the woods, eyes black as night, hair white as snow, that’s what he said.”

Geralt looked closer at it. The miniature portrait had been sealed in a thin lacquer, leaving the surface shiny and smooth. “Damn, Lambert,” Geralt said with a grin. “This is incredible.”

“Don’t start cryin’ on me,” Lambert drawled, blushing around the ears just a little bit. “Was happy to get it. Even if you didn’t want it, at least it’d keep your ugly mug on my mind from time to time.”

“Aw, my mug’s on your mind?” Geralt smirked, setting the gift down carefully, to be put with his other precious cards, the kinds he kept for tournaments.

“Well, now it’s not.” Lambert was turned in the circle of Geralt’s arms and pulled close. “Cuz you just—”

Geralt cut him off with a kiss. He knew it was unfair, in a way, but he also knew Lambert liked when he was demanding and sure of what he wanted. Geralt cupped his face, holding him there so he could see him. “I miss you too, you know. Out on the Path.”

“You’ve got that bard—”

“He’s not you. Is it so hard to believe that I enjoy your company?”

“Everyone else seems to tolerate it.” Lambert shrugged.

“When have I ever been like everyone else?”

“Alright, Mr. Ego,” Lambert finally laughed, bringing his gaze up to look at Geralt’s again. “Save it for winter, eh?”

“It’s pretty cold tonight. Could always pretend it’s winter, that the walls are stone instead of wood, that the rain isn’t rain, it’s snow. That this,” Geralt pushed him back onto the bed, gentle enough that Lambert could have stopped himself if he wanted. “Is my bed, and you’re still just as stubborn getting into it as you are getting out of it.”

Lambert watched him with a new look in his eyes, something having worked itself out in his brilliant mind. “Okay,” he said in a whisper. “We can pretend.”

After, Geralt rolled off and they both caught their breath, panting up at the ceiling, long after the candles had been snuffed out. Several minutes passed in silence, and Lambert thought Geralt had merely gone to sleep, until he spoke.

“Monsters, though?”

“My monster.”

In the morning, they walked together.

[some-dr-writings]

Gundham Tanaka x Reader One-shot: First Date

Winter always had this captivating beauty about it. A lonely kind of beauty, so distant yet distinct. Nothing was quite like just looking out the window at the snowy mountain forest off in the horizon. Winter break had come and most life fled from the place, returning to their families or simply hid in their dens, like you. With a mostly empty cup of hot coco in hand you looked out that open window as if in a daze. A breeze flew past making the sharp contrast between the cool it brought and the hot cup more apparent. Without realizing it you pulled the mug just a bit closer to your chest, wishing for more of that warmth.

Taking a sip from it, something caught your gaze. Out in the white that distinctive berry purple scarf and long black coat leaped out, like adding a drop of lemon juice to a mild milk tea. “Ice Lord Tanaka, returning to the dorms already?” It was odd for the man to be returning to the dorms in the morning hours. It always took so much time and effort to properly tend to his creatures that he hardly had time for much else. “Ah, so the watcher of endless shadows has risen to search this low domain for a change. The demon beasts have taken to laying dormant in the new creeping polar environs that all but consumed this land.” “Huh, I guess you don’t have much to do with most of them hibernating.” Gundham simply nodded drawing your attention to his scarf. There was no movement whatsoever. “Even the Dark Devas?” “Indeed, they have too.”

“Hey, Dark Lord, want some hot coco?” “Hmm, I see no reason to decline such an offer.”

Gundham leaned against the wall beside your window as you prepared him a drink. At first glance not many would assume the Super High School Breeder and Super High School Level Astronomer would be friends but you two were. You both were very introverted, not finding much stimulation from being with too many others or in loud situations, you two kept to yourselves. Ironically that’s likely what magnetized you to one another. You didn’t need to talk to enjoy the other’s company. There was no need to fill the air with meaningless noise. You never had ‘how’s the weather’ kind of conversations, when you spoke there was always a specific purpose behind it.

Funny thing, the first time you two met you never spoke. You had set up your telescope and were star gazing when you heard an owl. Not thinking much of it you looked though that telescope, having an uncharacteristically difficult time finding Saturn. Moments later you heard some rustling. Finally taking a look behind yourself you saw a man you’d come to learn was called Gundham, wearing a big, thick glove with an owl perched on it. Minding your own business, you went about readjusting your telescope. And there you two stood, Gundham tending to the owl and you internally cheering having finally found that planet. Hearing another hoot, you were surprised it was so close. The man was beside you and the owl perched on his arm kept looking at you. Cautiously the bird was held out to you. Confused yet intrigued you gently held up a hand and pet the bird on the head with the back of your fingers. It’s feathers seemed to fluff out making the creature look even softer than it actually was. Gundham’s eyes slightly widened in surprise seeing the creature’s reaction before pulling his arm back. Facing out into the distance Gundham then threw up his arm, sending the owl flying, never to be seen again. Reaching into a small bag you had beside you, you pulled out a pair of binoculars and passed them to Gundham so he could watch it leave just a few moments longer, even in the far distance. After some time of looking through it, Gundham passed the binoculars back to you. Placing them away you took a few steps back and gestured to the telescope. After a moment of hesitation Gundham looked through it. Much time was spent showing him a few more planets a couple of stars. Soon though you and Gundham parted ways the same way you met. Wordlessly as you looked to the sky and he the horizon.

“So, what are you going to do now?” “That, in fact, was what I was pondering myself till you summoned me.” “Huh… Well, if you have nothing better to do, why don’t we go on a date?” Suddenly loud stifled coughing erupted from Gundham as his entire face flushed such a velvety rose pink. Perhaps you should not have asked that as he was mid-sip. When his coughing fit was over you simply passed him a handful of napkins in case he splashed hot coco on himself in the momentary chaos. “You okay there, buddy?” “I, t-the Supreme Overlord of Ice, am fine! I am unflappable!” “Uh-huh, suuuuure.” “Don’t take such a dry tone with me!” “Okay, okay. Sorry.” A light chuckle bubbled up from deep in your chest seeing a light steam radiate off the Dark Lord’s still flushed face. “But, seriously though. Let’s go on a date. It seems neither of us have anything better to do today, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t mind the idea of being partners. You’re my closest friend, we get along great, any good romantic relationship needs a stable base, I can’t see a more stable base than being good friends, and you’re cute. But if you don’t want to that’s A-Okay.” “Seeker of the Void, you should not speak of partaking in courting rituals so lightly! You do realize you are speaking with the one who shall soon rule this world, Gundham Tanaka, the Overlord of Ice!” “Yeah, I realize that.” Gundham simply stared at you, his mind momentarily blanking. “C-courting me shall be no easy task! Do you truly wish to even attempt such an endeavor?” “Well, if the date doesn’t go well or feels like every other time we hang out, we can just pretend this never happened.” “No. If you’ve the courage to face me and say such things you shall not yield! Prepare you soul for the clash of a lifetime! If you’ve the power to see through your words and fight to the end, I shall await for your challenge at the gates of this confined land.” With that said he placed his mug on the windowsill and walked away.

“… huh.” After placing the mugs on the small coffee table in your room you shut the window… A bright red dusted your cheeks as the situation really sunk in. Flopping onto your bed you buried your face into a pillow. Yes, you had a crush on the Dark Lord for a long time, but you didn’t think he’d accept! You were just saying it casually to test the waters! Oh, curse how you always got so fixated on things and just can’t let go! You weren’t mentally prepared to already be doing this! You didn’t even have a plan! What were you going to do!? A movie? Shopping? What!? What do people do on dates anyway!? You never dated before, the only things you knew about dating were the little you heard from your classmates and the romantic subplots you’ve seen on T.V. shows and movies!

The icy wind blew past causing Gundham to tug even more at his scarf.  A tinge of pink still softly dusted his cheeks since that proposal was made. A ‘date’… Even just merely thinking of that simple word forced his heart to pitter-patter faster and faster. How pitiful that a mere word could draw such a reaction from him. He was Gundham Tanaka and…. and… a-and… he had no idea what he was doing! But it was fine, it was going to be just fine. He was just going to hang out with you! It was fine! Right!? Maybe!? Like, sure, Gundham often found himself wishing you were by his side almost all the time, and the thought of going on simple little adventures like a date were all he dreamed of as of late, so doing for real should be fine, right!? He was getting the chance to do something he wanted! “BE STILL MY FLUTTERING HEART!” Who was he kidding, he was an absolute mess.

The sound of speeding foot falls crunching against snow rang out as you raced towards the breeder. “H-hey, Tanaka. So, is there anything you want to do?” “… You are the one who initiated this, I assumed you would have provided the ideas. Though, your consideration for my thoughts are appreciated.” “Well, if you don’t have any, I was thinking we could go for a walk at a park, maybe go shopping and watch a movie, take a nap, whatever we feel like really, oh and if we’re somehow lucky enough and the weather clears up, we could see a comet tonight! It’ll be extra gorgeous since it’s winter! In winter there’s less moisture in the air so the sky is more crisp and clear than at any other time! Though there are often clouds obscuring the view in this area so, it’ll be a gamble if we get to see much in the first place.” “Ah, go with our instincts and let the universe decide our fate, you’re saying. Very well then! I shall follow your lead.” “Alright, I guess we’ll just start walking and see where out feet take us!”

The pair of you walked in a comforting silence with your cheeks still red, but from the cold or your welling up feelings, neither of you knew. Having gotten to a park you found your gaze wandering around, lingering on the bare, spindly trees and that wavering gray lake. Glancing up at the sky you realized just how dark those clouds above were. Perhaps it would snow soon. The wind quickly picked up, constantly swirling and dancing about you two. It even threw up the long ends of Gundham’s scarf, whipping it around causing a crisp, sharp snap sound to occasionally ring out. With the noise neither of you noticed the similar clicking sounds that began to surround you till something hard hit your head. “Ouch! Wait, hail this time of year, or is it graupel?” All too quickly those ice chunks came raining down faster and faster as the wind grew more violent. “Or would this be sleet? Maybe we should ask a meteorologist. Is there a Super High School Level one at the school? But they’d li-” “Seeker of the Void, it matters not what it’s called. These are small, hard, painful attacks from the heavens. We must escape!” “Ah, you’re right! We can figure that out later!”

As you two ran with your arms covering your head, you raced to the small temple just ahead. “Well… at least we have shelter.” Gundham didn’t respond, just stoically looked out at the precipitation. “… Maybe going on a date today wasn’t the best idea. At least we got some exercise out of this.” You wanted to try seeing the bright side of this, but you could only find that one reason with your usual pragmatic approach. As you were searching through your coat pockets for your phone to look up if a Meteorologist went to Hope’s Peak, you suddenly heard foot falls. “Huh? Wa- Tanaka! Where are you going!?” “Wait here!” Gundham ran and slipped through the wind and hail not looking back. “… Tanaka you idiot! You’re just going to get hurt! What are you even doing!?” Seeing his form retreat off into the distance, a sigh escaped your lips. As much as you wished to chase after him, he specifically told you to stay put, so he clearly had some plan, but a plan for what? All you could do at this point was simply wait for him.

And so, you waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Perhaps it was your unsteady mind making the time feel like it was ticking away at such a slow pace, perhaps he truly was taking so long, but that time waiting for him to return felt like a thousand days. It was certainly not helped by you constantly looking down the white covered path the man had left on, but you couldn’t get yourself to do anything else, you were much too antsy. Then finally you saw a figure. Not even giving it a second thought you raced to it. Surely enough it was- “Tanaka!” You managed to stop yourself in time to keep from crashing into him. Absolutely out of breath, Gundham rested his hand on his slightly bent knee trying to catch his breath. His scarf hung loosely around his neck. “A. There is no Super High School Level Meteorologist. B. Were you running this whole time!? In THIS wind!” It was then you suddenly noticed what Gundham held towards you. “I-I have procured the best charm I could find in the cl-closest marketplace.” “An umbrella! Thank you Tanaka. Though, we could have just stayed at the temple for a while. You didn’t have to go to this much trouble. You must have gotten pelted by the hail or whatever this is. It must have hurt.” Straightening himself out, he looked you directly in the eyes. “I am the Overlord of Ice; these mere pellets can do no such harm to me! I was the only one who could salvage this date. Even if the heavens try to disrupt this union, this ritual, no such thing as fate shall stand in my way!” The softest, most tender of smiles formed on those lips of yours even in that harsh wind, sent the Ice Lord’s heart a flight faster than the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. “… o-oh. Thank you, that’s so sweet.” “S-sweet!?” As you took a step closer, he could feel his entire face igniting in that familiar heat. How were you able to do this to him without even trying?

Wanting to just momentarily hide away to compose himself he tugged up on his scarf. Just as he did so, more wind came thrashing about, stealing the garment. “Your scarf!” You immediately chased after it, leaving Gundham to run after you, desperately holding the umbrella just out far enough to cover you. Zipping from left to right to any direction it was thrown higher and higher. “I think it’s gone into the street!” “Void Seeker! You don-” “Rental bikes!” Dashing out of the park you smashed some yen haphazardly into the slot and took out a bike. You were already riding away when Gundham managed to hop on the bike stand pegs on the back wheel before you left without him. Gripping your shoulder for balance he used his other hand to hold the clear umbrella before you, acting like a windshield of sorts.

You certainly never thought you’d ever find yourself peddling on a bike so fervently in a storm before but here you were, fighting against the wind, suddenly swerving around the few cars that passed your way, making sharp turns when your balance was tossed off, desperate not to crash! The ice certainly didn’t make things any easier, causing the ground to be slippery and bumpy at the same time making control almost near impossible. Despite Gundham’s best efforts those ice chunks crashed into you, and even almost into your eyes at times.

Sliding down a steep hill you had to take your feet off the pedals fearing the overwhelming speed would break your knees. Everything was but a blur as you zipped down faster and faster. “Wait!” You looked over your shoulder to see Gundham, hoping being just a bit closer would make your voice a little more clear even in the thundering clicks and howls. “We might be fast enough now!” “What!?” “Tanaka get your scarf! It might be our only chance!” Understanding, he gave you a firm nod. You tried keeping the bike steady for Gundham, who had to stand on his tiptoes reaching out as far as he could. It seemed each time the scarf was within reach it slipped from his fingers. Every single time! “Tanaka!” You were already speeding all too closely to the bottom of the hill, and you had to make a sharp turn.

…

With a groan you slowly pushed yourself off the ground. “Y/N!” “Huh? Who is-… Tanaka?” He was absolutely unrecognizable. Never before had you seen him so close to you. Never before had you seen him look so worried, scared even. Never before had you heard him call you by your first name. “Where are you hurt? How are you feeling? Do I need to summon healers?” “Did you get your scarf.” “… Seeker of the Void! Now is not the time to fret over such things! What is most important is your wel-” “I see it, your scarf!” You hopped to your feet, quickly racing to it before it got uncaught in the fallen, dented bike. “I got it!” Immediately Gundham was at by your side, dropping the broken umbrella. “You appear well enough.” “Ah! Sorry! I just wanted to get it before it was blown away again. As for me… very sore, maybe some bruising, but nothing bad. I think I more rolled than crashed. What about you?” “Heh, a pitiable attack such as that is no match for me!” “Good!”

A deep sigh escaped you as you picked up the bike. “That was certainly more than enough excitement for a week.” “Let us take shelter there for the time being.” He pointed toward a little café nearby. “What about the bike? I don’t think we can take in it in with us.” “Leave it out here. Look around, other than us no others dare to brave this treacherous terrain. Though should our transport be taken, I’ll pay the price, this is done on my suggestion after all.” Though a little hesitant you decided to go along with that plan.

Stepping into the café was like entering another world. So peaceful, so calm, it was absolutely lovely! When you and Gundham sat down you realized just how exhausted you felt. You simply let yourself sink into the seat. “… Maybe I should have thought this out more. It was awfully spur of the moment asking you out.” You looked out the window to the chaos that dwelled outside. “It was cloudy, I should have had the forethought to check the weather at least.” “Seeker of the Void.” “I mean, I was actually awake in the day and not napping to go stargazing tonight because I knew the weather wasn’t good.” “Void Seeker.” “Maybe I-”

Your thoughts suddenly came to a halt feeling your foot being nudged. “Huh?” Gundham sat there with his arms folded. His gaze seemed to bore holes into your figure, focusing solely on you. “The past matters not. You may dwell on possibilities all you like, but that will not change it.” “Yeah, you’re right. We’ve just got to make the most of this moment, right?” “Exactly.” Seeing that small kind smile curl on his lips set your mind at ease. It was then you remembered something. “Oh, and since in this moment we’re inside I can give your scarf back without it blowing away!” Not wanting to accidentally touch Gundham, knowing he didn’t like contact, you opted to place the garment on the table and slide it to him. “I thank you.”

After that not much was said. You two just enjoyed the quiet. This was just what you needed. Yes, the other patrons were a bit too noisy for either of your liking, but it was nice getting to rest after the hectic time before… It wasn’t that bad in the café either. The floor and walls were soft, light tan, wooden boards, and the furniture were a wooden dark reddish-brown. It was all so mild and warm. The other patrons mostly kept to themselves. The sounds of the creaking of wooden seats, the light thuds of foot falls against the wooden floorboard, the clinking of silverware, and the soft playing of piano music filled the air. The food was good too. The flavors like the café were mild, but comforting. Could use a little something to make it pop, but you were an astronomer, not a food critic, so you didn’t care all too much. It still tasted good.

Soon the music had changed. Still piano, but it was up-beat or at least faster paced. Jazz perhaps? Whatever genre it was, it got your foot tapping to the beat. It was a rather catchy tune too. “Hmm?” Then something got caught under your toes. Wanting to continue your tapping you decided to nudge whatever the object was out of the way. Instead it lightly nudged back? You nudged it with your other foot, which was immediately tapped against by something else. Looking up to the man who sat across from you, you saw he had his eyes closed and arms crossed. Curiously, you lightly kicked forward getting caught on something. A small huff escaped Gundham before you felt the bottom of your foot being lightly pushed back.  

Continuing to tap, nudge, kick, and push one another you were desperately trying and failing to hide your ever-growing enormous grin as Gundham looked to be perfectly stoic and composed, not even flinching. You were now determined to get him to crack. You couldn’t be the only one smiling like a little child. As you were pondering on what to do, your foot slipped when pushing back, kicking the leg of the table sending all the silverware clattering for a moment. Without thinking you clamped your hands over your mouth, not wanting to burst out into nervous laughter and drawing more attention your way. At least you got a reaction from Gundham, who genuinely looked surprised. “Geez, Tanaka. You need to be more careful; we were almost caught.” You spoke just under your breath, not wanting others to hear. “Me? What could you possibly mean? You’re the one who kicked the table.” “You’re the one who started this.” “I, Gundham Tanaka, the Overlord of Ice, would never kick off such a childish game.” “’kick off’?” You desperately tried stifling you giggle hearing the Great and Mighty Gundham Tanaka of all people make a pun. In your little fit of laughter, you missed the tinge of pink which dusted his cheeks and his gentle smile which stretched from ear to ear.

Neither of you were willing to give up your little game, you both wanted to get the last hit in and be the winner. As the game continued you got lost in your own world, all composure thrown out the window, both giggling messes. Your fun was soon interrupted though as an employee came telling you, you were starting to disturb the other customers and that you had spent far too much time loitering around, not having ordered anything else in over an hour. Gundham abruptly stood from his seat, slapping some money onto the table. “You mortal believe you can tell me, the Overlord of Ice what to do!? Though bold you are quite foolish. Come my companion! Let us take flight as to not allow these fiends to humiliate themselves further!” He then gently tugged on your coat. “… Sure, but I must add, you’re really freaking cute Tanaka.” “Cute!? P-preposterous!” Then you zipped past him, lightly kicking his foot. “You fiend! You managed to pull off such trickery! Not that it will matter for long though, for I shall be the winner!” He swiftly made chase after you out of the café.

You ran up and down the streets with the bike in hand trying to avoid Gundham’s attacks while hitting back with your own counters. Only the laughter you two shared could be heard in the calm desolate white world. It was gently carried along by the breeze ushering the peace that now existed. You noticed a glint in the Ice Lord’s eyes, as smirk formed on his lips. Suddenly white ice was kicked up distracting you from your advance and you were counter attacked! Loud, cheerful laughter erupted from deep within Gundham, and continued to do so as he spoke. “Oh dear, sweet, Seeker of the Void! You are in my domain now! There is no hope of your winning this match, for I am Gundham Tanaka, the Overlord of Ice!” “Ha! I bet you can’t get the last hit before we get to the park!” “Hah! I’d like to see you even attempt such a feat!”

The closer the two of you neared the park the more heated the battle became. You felt your heart pounding as you ran. You got the last hit, you just needed to keep dodging and you’d win! Though constantly running and laughing was not a good combination, you were so lightheaded you were likely a little delirious. Gundham was in the same position believing he was winning. Whatever the case was, neither of you could care at this point it was too fun. After placing the bike back in the rack, you leaned against it, trying to catch your breath. “Oh boy, I-I’m exhausted.” “Hmph, t-though you spend your life still and gazing, you put up quite a fight!” “Well, I guess that’s what you get for hiking up mountain peaks for the best view!”

As you made sure the bike was properly secure, Gundham’s gaze shifted towards the heavens. “Void Seeker, do you believe the winds shall grant us a clear view of you comet?” “… You remembered that? I just mentioned it off hand, didn’t I? Or did I start rambling again?” “That matters not, you spoke of it, and it’s your passion. I would never forget.” Your eyes sparkled with delight. “Well, the sky is starting to clear up so there might be a chance! Though obviously checking the weather report is the best, but I’ve found that so often it can be wrong that I just use it as more of a guideline. At this point I just go with my instinct and knowledge of the weather since I have to deal with it so much, I’ve learned a thing or two about how it works, and I think… I think we might have a chance!” “So, we are too rest now?” “Yeah! If we wanna stay up all night stargazing we’re gonna have to sleep now! Aw, I hope this works out!” Giddily you skipped into the park, twirling and spinning around as you took out your phone, setting an alarm.

“This looks like a good napping spot!” Kicking your feet up, you fell onto the ground. “Out here and not the dorms? I assumed you’d wish to quickly collect your tools.” “We’ll have enough time to get to the dorms later! Right now, I’m tired from all that running so we’ll just nap here!” Not questioning your reasoning, Gundham simply shrugged his shoulders and fell onto the ground beside you. Curling up into your coat and closing your eyes you swiftly fell asleep, just barely registering the single light nudge against your foot.

With a yawn and a stretch, you awoke to that dreaded, awful, blaring siren. “… not a cloud.” Gundham slowly sat up, grunting as he tried rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. Standing up you lightly nudged Gundham’s foot. “We need to get going if we wanna get the shopping done and get back to the school by night fall.” “Shopping?” “Yeah! We’re going to get hungry staying up all night.”

There was a spring in your step as you merrily walked along the sidewalk, occasionally playfully kicking at your companion’s feet to which he’d return the favor. The sun had yet to set but it was close to doing so. You watched as each of your breaths froze in the air before dissipating into mist and gently swirling away on the wind. The soft crunching of the ice beneath one’s footfalls was absolutely delightful on the ear.

Quickly you spotted that small neon sign flash on in the distance. Your pace slightly quickened, daydreaming of the delightful treats that awaited you and your companion inside. Arriving at the tiny convenience store you went straight to a specific aisle. “Hey, Tanaka pick out whatever you want, alright? I’ll pay!” Then you zipped around already knowing what you wanted. The elderly man behind the counter smiled and lightly waved as you passed by for a moment. “Ah, Y/N going out on another trip?” “Nope! Staying at school this time. Sorry I won’t be buying as much because of that.” “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be fine. You’re not my only customer you know. Now, who’s this fellow here?” “He’s my date.” “Oh, a date. I see I see. Wait… is this the great Gundham Tanaka I’ve heard so much about?” You froze for a moment feeling a blush cover your entire face. “Y-yeah. And I haven’t talked about him that much!” The man chuckled seeing Gundham’s cheeks flair up. “Ah, youth.”

The place was filled with brands and treats Gundham didn’t recognize. All the packaging was quite colorful too, a stark contrast from the simple, calm store. He meandered around looking for some treat as you chatted away with the man behind the counter about the comet tonight. Soon something caught the Ice Lord’s attention. It was but a plain blue box, a single side was see-though allowing one to spot the dull gold orb inside. “Chocolate Orange” was all that was written on the lid. After taking a few more moments to see if anything else caught his fancy he made his way for the counter, sliding the box to you.

“Huh? Aren’t you going to scan the items?” The man lightly shook his head. “You finally gained the courage to ask the young man out. I’m not going to have you worry over payment.” “What? No! I have to give you something!” “Alright, alright. Take your friend out on an out of town date some time and buy some extra treats for the road. Now get going, I’m sure there’s more exciting things to do on a date than speaking with an old man.” He laughed once more seeing how you and Gundham so easily blushed at his comments.

“Sorry about Mr. Sato. He’s a good acquaintance of mine who I end up rambling to when I go to his store. It’s always my last stop before I go on any trip stargazing, his place has the best snacks that can last for a long time!” The sun was just beginning to set, casting orange, purple, red, and yellow hues across the sky. “So, what did you get? Something new to try or an old favorite?” “Something new. Should the mere thought be tantalizing enough we could try it now.” “Oh, good idea! We can see if it’s good or not now and not have to deal with it later when the comet arrives if it’s not.”

Quickly sifting through the small paper bag, you took out the small box and held it out to Gundham. “Oh! Uh… Should I place it on the ground, or…” Your words trailed off seeing Gundham hesitantly hold up his bandaged hand. Ever so gently he took the box, his fingers brushing against yours. You swore your heart skipped a beat in that moment. Playing footsies was one thing it wasn’t really touching, but this… Neither of you spoke of it, there was no need. Words simply would have muddled the message that simple act conveyed. A simple act that meant everything to you. Getting so absorbed in the moment you almost didn’t notice how the now empty box was held out to you. “o-oh, Oh!” With a shaky hand you took the box back.

You watched as Gundham simply held the orb for a moment. The sun was directly behind him, casting his figure in a bright glow, simultaneously as a long dark shadow trailed from him. Unwrapping the gold foil from the treat, the chocolate inside was revealed. The chocolate was clearly cut into many pieces yet, still held it’s shape. After a moment of struggle Gundham managed to snap an orange segment shaped slice out… Then he held it out to you in his open bandaged palm. You heard your heart pound in your ears. Your mind sputtered to a stop just staring at that hand. All you could do was keep walking. Hesitantly that hand loosely closed and retracted, falling to Gundham’s side. You were suddenly snapped back to your senses when you felt something shaking beside your hand. Still trembling it slid into your open palm. As your fingers curled around the slice your hands parted.

The milk chocolate was mild with an orange zing that spread through the entire thing.

Gundham stood before your dorm room as you came out with your disassembled telescope in it’s case. The pair of you quickly climbed your way up to the rooftop of the dormitory. Once there you set about preparing and reassembling the telescope. You then spread out a blanket and laid atop it, simply waiting for the show to begin. After an hour or so of occasionally nudging the other’s feet with your own it finally happened. A streak cut through the sky quickly dissipating. Then another, and another till those streaks filled the sky. Confused, Gundham turned to you. “Do you know how the phenomena of meteor showers or shooting stars happen? Most often they occur when a comet passes by. The comet leaves a lot of stuff behind in it’s travels, that stuff getting pulled in by a planet’s gravity. As it enters the atmosphere, it burns up, disintegrating before it even gets to make impact, that’s why it’s so bright.”

Your eyes always seemed to be fixed on the sky, it was rarer your gaze shifted to anywhere else. Gundham used to wonder why that was. Was there something up there you longed for that was out of reach here? Did you just like marveling at it’s beauty? Quickly after meeting you, he stopped questioning it. It didn’t matter really. It just meant that if you even did pay attention to anything else, it must have been quite special indeed. So, when you turned to glance at him, to him, the world stopped. Being with such a person, a person who only dedicated their time to things they cared about and nothing else. It made him feel like he meant absolutely everything… that must have been why the simple word ‘date’ could send his heart aflight. It was because YOU said it. You asked him, not the other way around. You really wanted to be with him.

You shivered as that cold wind brushed past. As you hugged yourself you noticed Gundham had scooted closer to you. Undoing his scarf, he rewrapped it around himself but with only one end, the other was gently placed atop your shoulders. A content sigh slipped from his chapped lips seeing you so tenderly wrap the garment around yourself.

Though that night felt to be an eternity the sun still rose. Neither of you dared move as it climbed higher and higher into that brightening sky. Gundham tried stifling it, but you still caught the yawn that managed to escape him. You gently tugged on the scarf, signaling Gundham to stand up. You slowly set to disassembling the telescope, collecting your trash and rolling up the blanket. The whole time you were tied close to one another, not willing to loosen the scarf even a little.

All to soon you found yourselves standing before your room. Gently you untied the scarf. “… Void Seeker. I… I wish to continue this ritual. This ‘date’ was but the first step after all. So… would you have me? To keep close…” He feared his heart was going to burst from his chest as he spoke. He found he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “… Want to stay up all night for New Year’s Eve and day, but that’s a few days from now… Well, it’ll take a day to readjust our sleeping schedule. I’ll be up for being awake in the day, day after tomorrow!” “Y-yes! Certainly! A-and I, Gundham Tanaka, shall plan the date this time! Come and reunite with me at the same place and time from our date yesterday!” His strangely excited yet nervous laughter filled the air as he practically sprinted away.

Dashing into his room he slammed the door shut. He took deep breaths trying to steady his racing heart. Leaning against the wall he slid down, just letting gravity take him. Lightly chuckling, he smiled, it sinking in that he got another date! Wait- were you two going steady now? Were you partners!? Then that familiar pitter patter of feet filled the air. “My Devas, you’ve awakened!... You sensed the Void Searcher’s presence on me, no doubt…” The four hamsters quickly, yet sleepily scurried towards Gundham. “Y-yes……… I- N-NO THEY ARE NOT MY MATE, WE’RE STILL COURTING!... well… not at the moment, I believe? M-maybe…” Of all beings, Gundham never thought his loyal Devas would be teasing him about his crush… or would it be his partner? He burrowed his face into his scarf, desperate to hide… The scarf you also wore… So much for trying to slow his heart! “It seems these affections for Y/N will be the end of me.” Hugging the scarf close, he smiled, day dreaming of what to do on your next date.

[haberdashing]

I Am Destruction, Decay, And Desire (4/?)

Martin finds out that Jon’s going to meet with Jude Perry and acts to intervene. It goes… poorly.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

Martin had never been a fan of the old idiom that time heals all wounds. In his experience, if time made you forget about certain wounds, it was only because newer ones took precedence. That being said, however, by the time Martin returned to the cafe where the life he’d known had ended just twenty-four hours ago, his mood was as least somewhat better than it had been the previous night. He still was all too aware of what had happened, but it didn’t sting quite as badly as it had when it was fresh.

He still had a purple smudge on his finger that had not in fact washed out during his bath, or rather his mostly-unsuccessful attempt at the same, but that was... fine. It would be fine.

Martin had made a point of being on time to the meeting he had arranged, but even so, he saw as he had arrived that both Jon and Jude had beaten him to the punch, having taken a seat at opposing sides of an outside table.

Jon was wearing the same ridiculous fluffy pink coat as he’d worn the day before, though if it was especially chilly out Martin couldn’t feel it, and Martin felt a pang as he got closer and saw that it was still visibly stained where his waxen hand had brushed against it.

As Martin approached the table where Jon and Jude sat, he found that that same coat he had fixated upon was apparently the current topic of discussion.

“Look, I lost my normal coat, and i-it’s cold. Some of us actually feel it, you know?”

Martin’s stomach sank a little further at that confirmation that it was indeed cold out, that he simply couldn’t feel the cold anymore, that that was yet another sign that he was no longer human. (Even if it was kind of amusing to watch Jon get so indignant about that coat, of all things...)

“You wouldn’t shake my hand.” There was a strange grin on Jude’s face as she spoke, a grin matched in intensity by Martin’s growing certainty that this conversation was going to be... well, simply “uncomfortable” was probably a best-case scenario, now, wasn’t it?

Martin pulled up a chair and sat down between Jon and Jude; Jon glancing his way for a moment before returning to staring at Jude, and Jude nodded vaguely in his direction but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him. That was fine, though. There were worse things to be than overlooked.

“Well, no, I’m not stupid! I saw what happened-”

Jude’s grin only got even wider as Jon spoke, and evidently he noticed, as he switched conversational tracks quickly enough.

“L-look, will you stop that?”

The wild grin turned to biting laughter, though only for a brief moment. “Oh, alright. Ah… I hate explaining jokes, but, um… Imagine you’re, um… a butcher, and one day an injured little lamb walks into your workshop, and strides right into one of the mincing machines, but when you go up to it, knife in hand, it shakes its head and tells you ‘I’m not stupid’. Do you get why that’s funny?”

“Right.” Jon didn’t sound the least bit amused even after the explanation, but honestly, Martin didn’t exactly blame him. “But no more abattoir metaphors, please.”

“Suppose it’s not really me, is it? Would you rather be a really stupid piece of firewood?” Jude’s grin and the playful tone in her voice suggested that she was amused enough by her own jokes for the three of them.

And then Jon just... plunged ahead, asking questions about names and dates and places that Martin by and large didn’t recognize; perhaps it had been foolish of him to assume that Jon’s research, Jon’s search for answers, would have stopped just because of a little thing like, oh, being on the run for murder. In hindsight, Martin knew Jon well enough that he really shouldn’t have been surprised that the man kept searching for information come hell or high water, kept seeking out danger even when he was already knee-deep in it.

Really, the surprising part was that Jude actually cooperated, more or less. Sure, she protested, she threatened, but she also answered Jon’s questions in the end.

(Some might have found it even more surprising that Martin managed to remain little more than an onlooker in the conversation, but not Martin himself; he was too used to it, too used to being overlooked and underestimated, and honestly, given the circumstances, he didn’t much mind not being the center of attention at the moment.)

“Yes, yes, I understand, you could easily kill me, I’m at your mercy...” Jon barely blinked an eye at Jude’s latest not-so-veiled threat, a reference to a statement Martin actually did remember and a man who ended up horrifically burned because of the events within it. Martin doubted anyone else could sound quite so bored when being threatened with agonizing pain and disfigurement by a woman who had already proven that she could easily make good on such threats if the mood struck her. “So... why haven’t you done it?”

“We’re in public.” Jude, for her part, seemed more amused with the situation than anything else, the grin on her face sneaking its way into her voice once again.

“Well-” Jon started to say, but Martin interrupted before Jon could finish the thought.

“That didn’t seem to stop you before, now, did it?” Martin didn’t bother hiding the aggravation in his voice--it was one thing to discuss weird happenings Martin wasn’t privy to without including him in the conversation, but ignoring the events of yesterday, ignoring the very relevant fact that Jude had burned him in a setting every bit as public as the current one, went a bit too far for his taste.

Jude tilted her head to one side, and both she and Jon looked Martin’s way for a long, silent moment; Martin couldn’t read the look in Jude’s eyes, but Jon’s contained something like guilt, or perhaps pity.

“I was a bit careless there, wasn’t I?” The upbeat tone of Jude’s voice was only slightly dampened, far from the apologetic tone her words might otherwise have signified. “I shouldn’t have given you time to scream. If I moved fast enough, I could-” Jude turned her gaze back at Jon as she continued to speak. “-reach through your chest like runny wax, and hold your heart while it cooked, and no one would even notice.”

“Right. R-right.” Jon finally sounded at least slightly affected by Jude’s threats rather than just bored of them; perhaps it was the graphic nature of this one that did the trick, or perhaps being reminded that Martin was now living proof that Jude’s threats weren’t empty ones was enough to make the seriousness of the situation start to sink in. “So why don’t you? Does your ‘god’ not want you to?”

“...mmm, hard to say. When I look at you, I feel that burning liquid pain, eager to flow out and purify your rotten carcass...” Jude glanced over at Martin, and her gaze looked almost conspiratorial, like she was expecting him to be in agreement, but all Martin felt upon hearing that was a bit sick. “But I feel that a lot.”

“Oh.” Jon looked a bit peaky, and if Martin had to guess, he felt at least as ill as Martin himself did upon hearing the graphic details of Jude’s desire to burn and destroy. “M-more or less than normal?”

“Hard to say when every nerve ending’s on fire. Hard to tell degrees.” Another glance Martin’s way, looking for something in him that wasn’t there. (Or wasn’t there yet, at least--Martin thought back to Prentiss’ statement, how she could recognize that something was wrong before becoming little more than a worm-filled husk. Maybe that’s where he was now, in the in-between period, no longer human but not yet monster.)

“Third degree, maybe?” Jon muttered, the words probably meant mostly for himself rather than for the benefit of his conversational partners, but Martin still snorted with amusement, though Jude looked more annoyed than amused (apparently in her mind, she was the only one allowed to make jokes in this conversation).

“Sorry, sorry, it was a...” Jon trailed off before finishing his sentence, and when he started speaking again it was to start on another train of thought. “I have a god too... right?”

“Is that another joke?” Jude’s wry grin was back, despite the fact that what Jon had said didn’t strike Martin as a joke, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that any laughter in response to it would have to be at his expense.

“N-no, I... I’m new to this. Everyone keeps calling me ‘Archivist’, like I’m special, and that... that I serve the Eye. Trying to kill me for it.”

“Yes.” Jude leaned back a little in her chair.

“S-so... i-it’s like your ‘god’, right?”

“Oh please, your god is nothing!” Jude wrinkled her nose, apparently disgusted by the mere thought of comparing the two “gods” on equal terms. “The Eye, Beholding, Ceaseless Watcher...  whatever you call it, that’s all it does. It watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge. I serve a reckoning, a surging tide of destruction and pain.”

Martin could feel his pulse racing as Jon breathed, “The Lightless Flame.”

“The Desolation. Blackened Earth. The destructive, agonizing heat of burning flesh and land scoured of life. The light, the comfort of fire stripped from it, leaving nothing but the terror of its approach. When it triumphs, it will leave The Eye a burned and shriveled husk that sees nothing but its own agony.”

Jon spoke up again, starting to get into yet another tiff with Jude by the sound of it, but Martin wasn’t really listening as the two went at it, too preoccupied by dissecting the information Jude had just given him about the “god” she worshipped, the power she had pulled him into serving by force.

Martin rather preferred the term Jon had offered up for it to those Jude had given; lightless flames could still provide warmth if one didn’t get too close, after all, while desolation, blackened earth... those phrases spoke only to landscapes with all the life in them stripped away, spaces emptied by force of any comfort that might once have been found there.

The mere thought of it made Martin’s stomach turn a little... and yet, part of him wanted to agree that their “god” was the better one, the stronger one, destined to reign superior, even if all it could cause was destruction and pain.

Martin hoped, distantly, that he hadn’t reached the point where all he could cause now was destruction and pain.

[todorokifanboy]

The universality of Shingeki no Kyojin in its epic depiction of war

Warning! Spoilers ahead. 

 Do you think you have the stomach to watch people getting eaten by huge, humanoid titans? If so, you need to scour through Gogoanime and find yourself a good quality version of Shingeki no Kyojin (English: Attack on Titan). Not only does the story fulfill epic-style proportions of screenwriting, thanks to Hajime Isayama, it is also a heartbreakingly resonant reminder of the universal fuckery brought about by war and conflict, as seen through the eyes of children who were collateral in a centuries-old feud.

 Sound familiar? It’s the history of all-conflict-ever compacted into the riveting story of a fictional island world wherein humanity has been forced to live behind gigantic walls for fear of man-eating titans that surround them. The irony of this world being called Paradis is not lost on the viewers, considering it's practically a prison. Only worse, because the people living within those walls have no idea they are imprisoned by anyone. When the show starts, you are just as clueless as they are. Eren, Mikasa and Armin, three of the most important protagonists, watch their lives disintegrate when the Colossal and Armoured Titan break through the outermost wall and their town is rampaged by the monsters. Your fists clench and your heart drops as you watch Eren’s unflinching gaze, imbued with unbelievable horror - at his mother being ripped apart and eaten by a smiling titan. Much like Eren, you find it impossible to look away. 

From that point on, the story takes many wonderfully complicated and compelling twists and turns. As the characters learn more of their situation and circumstances, as well as their role in it all, you grow more attached to and fond of the characters and their unwavering determination and hope, in spite of an increasingly grotesque war against mankind and titans. But what exactly makes this story so epic? Why is it that out of so many war stories I have read and seen, that this one, completely animated and set in an entirely fictional world, has struck the deepest chord? 

To be succinct in my explanation would be doing a disservice. Everything about this show - from the characters, to the dialogue, to the soundtracks - crafts a stunning and deeply familiar tale of trials and tribulations of conflict, of the collateral, of the deep existentialism felt when one encounters such a war-ravaged dystopia.  

There is a distinctly human variety in the character types in the show. It shows those who come from comfort, those who crave comfort, those who reject comfort, those who are too traumatized to imagine comfort. It depicts indifference and passion most artfully. But more than just variety, it also takes you along a very believable and simultaneously distressing journey when it comes to the characters' development. 

Take Eren Jaeger, for instance: the primary protagonist of the show starts off as a deeply traumatized, angry young boy whose entire life tunnel-visions down to avenging his mother’s death and reclaiming his freedom from the inexplicable monsters that threaten it constantly. When it is revealed that Eren too can access the power of the titans and turn into one, he begins using his titan form to further that same mission. However, when he realizes that Paradis is really just an island prison, with a neighbouring power sending human-prisoners-turned-titans that threaten Eren and his people, his character does a complete 180. Imagine learning that for hundreds of years, and for all of your life, your freedom was consciously being stripped away by a power you didn't even know existed. The sudden uncanny cold acceptance and single-minded determination seen within Eren in the latest season is a change the viewers are shocked but not surprised by. If the plot wasn’t delightful enough, the dialogue is movingly powerful. Shingeki no Kyojin touches on deeply personal topics such as freedom, regret, resolve, deception, loss, ignorance, hope; and it is done in ways that are so natural and bound to the world that it hits in a manner token mentions could not have. Maybe the aforementioned thematic elements are common to every war-story, but Shingeki no Kyojin’s style of thematic exposition is something else entirely, retaining both an organic sense of authenticity plot-wise and a perpetual feeling of 'holy-shit-what-on-earth-could-happen-next’. 

And can I just say here that the soundtrack to this show is one of the most beautiful things you will ever hear? The two studios, Wit Studio (seasons 1-3) and MAPPA (season 4) hired full blown orchestras to record the hauntingly beautiful OST that accompanies some incredibly jaw-dropping scenes. I said epic-style proportions! 

I think many people don’t end up investing time watching anime because they feel as though that realm of fictionality, where even the characters and the world do not look ‘real’, will not hold lessons or experiences that could leave a lasting impression. However, Shingeki no Kyojin is an exemplary case study of the innately humanly complex: pain. Any individual who has not experienced conflict,but merely studied history of war, can understand and resonate with this hurtful feeling. The empathy it inspires is sincere, considering this pain is focalized through the experiences of children. Amongst the community of anime-watchers, it is considered one of the best ever created. And while I am in agreement so far, I am excitedly anticipating how the rest of season 4 goes to know for sure.