#magic and what you think you're going to do about it

[dabihawksluvr]

"So...wait, you're saying your world has these...rights?"

You nod your head, the king dumbfounded.

He had never heard of such a thing, women and 'slaves' having the same rights a man would. In this world, the one you were summoned to, only the high class had rights - the wealthy could do whatever they wanted, without consequence. But this honestly didn't feel too much different from your previous world, all things considered. In your previous world, you had a 'king' as well. But the people rose up quick, ending the tyrant's reign before it could ever really begin. Only difference was, your world had technology. This new world felt...almost barbaric, in a sense. One full of magic, yet felt 'modern' enough to let you know that the time here was not far off from what you once knew.

The king glanced you once over again, taking in your appearance. Then, he laughs. It was a hearty laugh, one that told you he assumed you were joking. But, in fact, you were far from it.

"Preposterous! Women and slaves are beneath me! Even a 'hero' such as yourself must see the truth, no woman could ever handle such responsibilities, much less handle nothing more than bearing children and tending to their lord's needs!"

You glare at the man, seeing he doesn't realize what's in front of him. He didn't notice the slight feminine tone, the slim fingers - none of your feminine features caught his eye. But then again, when you first appeared to him, you told him you were a man. So how could he tell, when this world's beauty standards already bordered on feminine? In this world of magic and monsters, it seemed that beauty was not as fixed on gender like yours was. You found it quite strange, bordering between relief and concern.

The king smirks, seeing your glare. Oh, he's seen that look before. One of defiance, of rage. He quite enjoyed seeing it, though despite that he assumed you were just passionate about his words. Not once did he think you were going to soon overthrow his rule, to take the spot as the new 'king' and bring about a new age of peace for the kingdom he's destroying.

"Now, young warrior. You were summoned here to stop this little 'revolution'. Are you going to follow my orders, or will I have to send you to the dungeons?"

the king has a large problem. The hero that was summoned thinks slavery is "a bad thing" and women "should have rights"

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Ever Since We Met

Spoiler: Jason dies in the warehouse. ~1.5k words

Jason Todd is six years old and snot nosed when he falls in love with his best friend. Sure, he doesn't exactly know what love is, but he makes sure he's standing next to you when the class lines up so he can hold your hand.

He gets a weird feeling in his stomach (he’s not completely convinced that it’s jealousy, despite what the teacher tries to explain) when you follow other kids around the playground instead of him.

But, he does recognize the excitement he feels when you seek him out to be coloring partners during class instead of the girl sitting next to you.

He loves you as much as a six year old can. Especially when he gets to sleep over at your house and you turn your bed into a fortress of blankets and pillows for you both to sleep in. Those nights are his favorite, and you both drift off to whispered stories and hushed giggles.

Jason Todd is ten years old and getting used to growing pains when he develops a crush on his best friend. At least, he thinks it’s a crush. It feels different than being in love, even if he hasn’t quite grasped the fact that he is in love.

He's more hyper aware of what he does now, how he treats you. Sometimes, the way you smile makes him stumble over his words, and his face go hot. He distracts himself and you from it by asking about homework or that one TV show you that you watch on Saturday mornings.

Jason decides he likes that you’ll press to his side when you’re reading, lost in your own worlds together without a need to fill the silence, crush or not.

He likes that you’ll trade half of your sandwich for his and sneak him doodles and notes during class. (He won’t admit it, but he keeps them in a box under his bed. Sometimes they’re the only reason he doesn’t run away from it all)

He doesn’t bother to mask his obvious preference for you, even when the other kids try to tease him for his crush.

You’re always quick to threaten anyone who tries to put him down, anyway, and he’s more than happy to do the same for you. And when you offer him a high five for scaring off some of the older kids, He decides it doesn’t matter if it’s a crush or not, as long as you stay his best friend.

Jason Todd is twelve when he becomes Robin. It’s hard, well, not being Robin, that’s a magic entirely its own, but being away from you.

He lives in a manor that's bigger than the entire floor of the apartment building he used to live in. He's learned how to do a backflip while throwing a punch in midair. He has more at his fingertips now than he's ever had in the entire first eleven years of his life.

But he misses you. Sometimes, it feels like a phantom limb. Something he's always reaching for, but never quite grasping. It helps that you've gotten a scholarship to his new school, but it's still not enough.

He can't explain it, but he gets greedy for your time. You don't seem to mind the sporadic hangouts, or how often he has to cancel or leave. He kind of wishes you would, just to show that you care as much as he does.

He redoubles his efforts to be a good Robin when you tell him about the dealer that moved into the apartment next to yours. He resolves to be a better friend when you tell him the fancy suits he has to wear to galas look good on him.

His feelings don't change once, even if he hasn't quite found a balance between vigilante and civilian, he knows you're the one thing he can't let go of.

Jason is fifteen years old and about to die when he realizes the person he wants to see most is you. He's always known it, in the back of his mind, but as the blaring red numbers tick lower and lower, he just wishes he could hear your voice one more time.

It's you. Always been. And he's never said it. Never let you know.

His body aches. His leg is twisted the wrong way. His breathing is shallow and raspy. His vision is blurring, and he wants to live. But his mom is still trapped in this warehouse with him, and he's Robin. Robin helps, and that's what he'll do.

Jason drags himself to his mother's side to help, moves despite the gnawing, indescribable pain with every movement.

He's still trying to help, trying to sheild her from harm, as the numbers drop to zero. Zero. Zero. Zero.

What happens next doesn't hurt more than anything else did. And he has enough time to picture the color of your eyes before it all goes to black.

Jason Todd is eighteen when he dons the name Red Hood and becomes Gotham's biggest crime lord in a matter of months.

He stays far away from you, even if your memory has haunted him since the moment he woke up in that cursed pit. (and if he tries to remember, the moment since he first woke up in his own grave)

He's eighteen still, when his empire crumbles and he's left without a path, a purpose. He carries the weight of his years with the league, sags under the strain of not knowing who he is anymore.

He stays far away from you, sticks to the cracks and shadows of Gotham until his name is no longer whispered in fear. Then, and only then, is he brave enough to take off his helmet in front of you.

It's a relief and a terror all at once to finally see the color of your eyes from something other than a memory, and when his heartbeat starts to stutter, he knows he's never really grown out of being in love with you.

You've gotten older. (He shouldn't be surprised, he has too. He just always pictured you growing old together)

Your eyes still light up like he's your favorite person in the room. (He thinks he's allowed to be surprised about that)

But it's when you breathe out that he's home, that he figures out you've been waiting for him. Neither of you seem to know what to say after that, but you don't run for the hills in terror. And for the moment, that's enough.

Jason is twenty-one and passing the first (legally) acquired bottle of alcohol you've ever bought. You laugh about how it still tastes the same, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest at the sound.

He loves you. It sings in his blood, settles on his tongue, he just doesn't know how to say it. He shows it, or at least he tries, but sometimes he's still waiting for this all to be a dream. It should have been impossible, how easily he slipped back into your life.

It was easy. So easy. Everything was easy with you. That's probably why he spills his guts.

He doesn't quite say it the right way, doesn't manage to get the word 'love' out. But he says enough to get his feelings out.

It's not poetic, not grand as you deserve, but somehow he manages to articulate the way butterflies create a hurricane in his stomach when you're around, how his gaze is always drawn to you, how he can't help but lean into the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch.

Maybe he says a little too much about how he's been head over heels since the day you've met, because you just stare at him.

He's almost ready to run, to blame it all on the one measly shot he's had. This is, until you kiss him. And oh, it's everything he never dared to dream it would be.

It's a little messy, sure, the angle a little strange as you crane across the couch to tangle your fingers in his hair. But it's perfect, it's you, and Jason falls in love all over again.

Jason Todd is twenty-three and still learning how to say I love you. It's not that he loves you any less, if anything, he loves you now more than ever. It's just still something he's getting used to.

Love is something you've given to him so freely, something he's happy to return. But it scares him, sometimes. He worries that if he says it out loud too much, the universe will realize how great of a gift he's been given, and rip it away.

It might be irrational, but he holds the word love close to his heart anyway, unwilling to test fate anymore than he already does by putting on that red helmet.

He whispers it to you in the dead of night instead, says it with touch instead of sound, shows it with soft, shine of his eye. He squeezes your hand when you say it to him, does his best to make it clear he feels the same, even if he can't get the words out.

He'll get it eventually, figure out how to get it off his tongue. He has to.

Especially if he wants to show you the pretty little band of shining, precious metal he has tucked away in a velvet box.

[squishyputty]

Before I say anything else, I want to say that I'm not trying to argue with your point. Because you're right. And I think what I'm saying could come off as more arguementative than I intended. Rather, I'm trying to use it as a jumping off point for how magic could intersect with identity in a fantasy world.

For your consideration: a world where magic is tied to gender, not because of anything physical, psycholoigical, or even magical, or anything else, but because this world defines "gender" by what type of magic you can use. I think it could be an interesting way of discussing the arbitrary definitions often ascribed to gender. And it could be interesting to see how characters in such a world would express their gender, and conform to or go against expectations. I think this would work especially well with societies with a heavier focus on magic, such as how high elves and dragons are often written, though it could certainly work for humans, too! Anyway, I'm sure there are people who know more about both gender and fantasy than me who would do a way better job of exploring these ideas than I could, but it's just something this post made me think of, and I wanted to share it.

I’m far less interested in fiction where it’s like “This power/ability/prophecy is gender specific but trans inclusive” and for more interested in fiction that just… doesn’t do that

[kiyo-cant-write]

Could I have request for first year? You can choose them. About reader inviting to go out with them? Anything, probably going to park or go to restaurant. I'm a sucker for romance.

inviting the first years on a date ✧･ﾟ

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Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long. I write fics with every character/scenario so doing the whole set of first years was a lot of fics, a lot of words. I hope each one is good! I love the first years, especially my boys Epel, Ortho, and Deuce! ^^

Thank you for requesting and feel free to request again!!

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Summary: The reader asks the first years to go on a date. Includes all first years for headcanons and scenarios. This means that it includes: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Ortho Shroud, and Sebek Zigvolt.

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is also a first-year/frosh (implied ~16ish)

Guest Stars: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia

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Ace Trappola

Ace agrees right off the bat. He doesn't bat an eye.

He's even a little miffed [Name] asked him first.

He was planning to ask [Name] out, you know!

But it doesn't matter, the date's happening either way :)

Ace suggests that he and [Name] sneak out.

Something about not wanting to deal with the housewardens.

Even if [Name] protests, Ace will insist on sneaking about.

It's not a good idea but Ace had it so... it's impulsive.

"Come on, [Nickname]," Ace whispered to [Name], "You're gonna get us caught. You want to go on a date or not?"

Trying to make as little sound as possible, Ace came back towards [Name] to help them untangle themself from an unfortunately placed bush that had snagged their clothing. He held an index finger to his lips as he shushed them once more.

He still couldn't believe they asked him out first. The gall.

"If you want to go out at night like this," he continued, "Then you need to get better at sneaking around. Want to get collared?"

"I'm not part of your dorm," [Name] whispered back.

"That doesn't save you anything."

[Name] was about to retort but paused to consider it.

"Yeah," they agreed with a laugh, you're right."

Ace sighed. They were going to make this difficult, huh? If they got caught then what was it all for. Caught before they could even go on the date? That's just... kind of sad.

"Shh! No laughing until we're away from the main building."

"Fine, fine," they agreed, "We'd better not get detention for this."

The last time they had gone with an "Ace Plan" it had caused a week's worth of detention for both of them. The professors did not take kindly to Ace's schemes. They seemed almost disappointed that [Name] was involved with it too, but that didn't spare [Name] from detention.

"Relax, you worry too much. What are you, Deuce?"

[Name] laughed again and Ace covered their mouth with his hand. They moved his hand away a second later to respond.

"I like to think I've got more guts than Deuce."

"Good, then act like it," Ace told them, leading them toward the school gates, "We're gonna have an adventure tonight."

[Name] gave Ace a look. What was he talking about? Going out to the city after dark was their idea for a date. Why was Ace talking big?

"Wasn't this date my idea?" they asked him.

"Yeah, but I can't let you upstage me all the time." Ace smiled at them as he spoke, "I'm gonna get you back for that tenfold."

"For what?"

"Doesn't matter," he responded, taking their hand in his, "Let's go!"

They really loved this guy, even if it meant all the detentions and magic-removing collars in the world. Smiling along with him, [Name] squeezed Ace's hand as they let him lead their way.

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Deuce Spade

Deuce swears in front of [Name].

"Holy shit."

And then he covers his mouth right after, begging to do it over.

He didn't mean to say it, it was just his instinctual thought!!

Deuce's brain is composed of a long list of curse words and a perpetual fear of being expelled from Night Raven (again).

He tells [Name] that he would be glad to go on a date with them.

Deuce confides that he hasn't been on a date before because of his past in which he thought he was too much of a "bad boy" for that.

He's oddly excited about the date, in a way that makes him seem younger than he already is at sixteen.

Unlike Ace (previous scenario), Deuce thinks that he should ask his upperclassman, so he seeks out Trey in the kitchen.

Deuce, face burning red, led [Name] by hand through the halls of Heartslabyul Dorm. They were headed toward the kitchen to find the bespectacled man who would (hopefully) grant them permission to go on their date. Or, that was about how Deuce explained it and [Name] was just in for the ride now that Deuce had apparently broken some kind of honor student's vow by swearing in front of them.

"Please tell me you're not asking for Trey-san's blessing."

"What?" Deuce turned to look at them, "No! We need to ask permission if we want to go into town."

"We're going into town?" [Name] asked him.

This was far more than they had planned. Deuce nodded. If they were going on a date, a real date, Deuce wanted it to count. And from all the varying media he had consumed in his young life... going on a date meant going into town and doing... Uh. Cute couple-y things.

"I want this to be perfect," Deuce confessed, clearly trying to be cool but failing due to the redness of his cheeks, "You know?"

[Name] nodded.

"Right, perfect, yeah," they agreed.

The two arrived at the doorway into the kitchen of Heartslabyul.

"Clover-senpai?" Deuce asked, poking his head in to see Trey at work mixing some kind of batter, "Do you have a minute?"

[Name] poked in after Deuce, smiling at the smell of sugar from Trey's baking. They hoped they might get some of whatever it was.

"Hm? A minute or two, sure," Trey offered, smiling as he looked toward them, "What's up?"

"Uh," Deuce began, "[Name] and I..."

"[Name] and you...?"

"We were wondering if we could go on a date?"

"I mean, that seems like your decision, not mine," Trey said, teasing the boy for his phrasing just a bit, "But I assume you mean going into town?"

"Ah. Yes!"

Deuce nodded, trying to hide the fact that the redness that had faded was back in full bloom. [Name] felt a bit bad for him and decided to help.

"We wanted to make sure it was alright to go off campus," [Name] added, "Don't want to break any rules. So we came to ask you."

Trey just laughed softly at the two of them.

"It's fine with me, I'll let Riddle know," he told Deuce and [Name], "I assume you'd rather not write the essay to him yourselves."

Deuce nodded once more, looking at [Name] and urging them to nod too. Writing an essay for Riddle was never a fun task. It took more time to write the stupid essay than to do the thing you were writing the essay about.

"Thank you, Clover-senpai," Deuce said, bowing to him.

"Mhm! Thanks, Trey!" [Name] agreed as they mimicked Deuce's action.

Trey smiled at the two underclassmen of his.

"Heh, you two have fun."

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Jack Howl

Jack is at a loss for words. [Name] wants to go on a date with him?

What is the protocol here?

Part of him wants to ask Leona as an upperclassman...

But then the other guys will laugh at him!!! :(

He nods slowly, face tinged a red slightly.

He agrees to the date and says it would be rude to say "no."

Despite the somewhat gruff answer, his tail is wagging.

If it's pointed out, he will flat-out deny it as it wags faster.

Jack would rather die than let the other guys tease him about his date but God does not favor dogboys today.

In the end though... Leona is a smart guy...

Jack wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when you're asked on a date by the person you like? Do you say "yes"? He wanted to panic, just a tad. This was beyond his typical day, not something that he was used to. Did he have anywhere to turn for advice?

He could ask Leona... No, then Ruggie would laugh at him.

The wolf sighed, composing himself as he turned back to [Name].

"Uh, sure. I'll go with you," he told them.

That wasn't what he wanted to say but that sure was what he said. He had wanted to seem happier about it but his tone wouldn't allow it. Jack found that it was hard to sound how he was feeling. How did the actors in those movies do it? He couldn't express how he was feeling, how could he do that with another person's feelings?

[Name] had just smiled and him and told him they were looking forward to it before they took their leave. What did he do now? Jack was sure there was more to this whole dating business...

But where to start...

"Leona-senpai," Jack said, finding himself in the botanical garden later that same day, "Do you think that people can understand you from a sentence?"

The lion was sleeping or rather he was trying to while Jack asked him questions. It was luck that Jack had been asked to fetch something from the garden for class.

"What?" Leona offered, opening an eye to look at Jack, "Jack, I have no idea what in the fuck you're on about."

"Do you think [Name] understood me?" Jack asked.

"I mean if they're still going on the date, probably," Leona said, closing his eyes with a sigh, "This is one of those things time will tell or whatever. Just go on the date and see what happens."

"You sure?"

"I am. So stop asking me how [Name] feels and get back to class. You need it."

Jack tried to ignore that obvious snub from a guy who was skipping most of his classes on any given day. But... Leona was right. He had to go on this date and see what became of his relationship with [Name] from there. "...Thanks."

"Whatever, can you go now?"

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Epel Felmier

Epel's first comment is that he would love to go on an outing.

He isn't embarrassed and doesn't think it's a "date" at first.

When [Name] clarifies that it is a date, Epel blushes.

"Ah? Well, if ya want to go somewhere with me, let's do it!"

Even though he feels a bit shy about it, he's still enthusiastic.

Depending on the outing, his energy may return during the date.

Epel thanks [Name] for giving him an out from Vil's makeup lessons. He didn't want to learn about blending properly today.

Mentioning his housewarden he realizes he'll need permission.

Epel asks [Name] if they will help him ask Rook about it.

Epel sighed softly as he came to the realization that as a first year, he would need permission to leave the campus for their date in the mountains. There were only two people to be asked: Housewarden Vil Schoenheit... Or Vice Housewarden Rook Hunt.

"Let's ask Rook-senpai," Epel told [Name], who nodded, "I don't think Vil-senpai would take kindly to me asking him to go into the mountains instead of learn a..."

Epel counted something on his fingers for a moment, hoping that [Name] couldn't see the redness on his cheeks that had yet to fade.

"A... 45-step makeup routine."

Epel looked disgusted at the prospect of the "lesson" and [Name] fought back the urge to laugh at the cute pout on the boy's face.

"That is a lot of steps," [Name] agreed, "Where is Rook-san?"

"Watching..." came Epel's answer, "He usually does the finding."

That was a true statement. Rook usually stumbled across Epel. The use of the phrase "stumble across" is largely for the sound of it as Rook always had eyes on Epel. It was an order from their Queen, after all. He couldn't allow himself to come across the lavender-haired boy by chance, Rook needed to keep a focus on his prey beloved underclassman.

"Hmm, so how do we find him?" [Name] asked which earned a sigh from Epel, "Epel?"

"ROOK-SENPAI! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Epel shouted into the front garden of Pomefiore.

From thin air, Rook Hunt appeared next to Epel and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin despite being the one who had called out to Rook. [Name] was so surprised their scream was silent as their hand flew to their chest in startlement.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Pommette!" Rook greeted with a grin.

"Hi..." Epel said after catching his breath, "Rook-senpai..."

"Did you need something?~" Rook asked, a knowing look crossing his features, "Or were you in need of our Queen, the most Beautiful Vil?"

"No, no! Just you is more than enough, I mean... I needed to ask you somethin' if you have time?" Epel said, the sentence only barely flowing properly.

He wanted to ask the question but his mind worked faster than his lips could parse. The resulting sentence left much to be desired.

"Oh?"

Rook awaited the question.

"I want to go into the mountains with [Name] this weekend," Epel said, "Do I have your, uhm, permission to do that?"

The blond seemed to ponder this for a moment as Epel stood there staring. It was all up to Rook if he was allowed to have his first relationship. He wanted to. Epel wanted this part of a school experience too...

But Vil might not approve, and Rook was loyal to him.

Epel glanced at [Name] for a moment.

Would they be angry if Rook made him say "no"?

"Ah, merveilleux!" Rook spoke, surprising both [Name] and Epel out of their personal thoughts, "Chase after love as I do, Epel!"

What?

Epel didn't know what that meant. Well, he thought it might be approval, but with Rook, one could never tell. So he asked.

"...Uhm. Is that a yes?"

"Oui."

Epel couldn't fight the urge and pumped his fist in the air before composing himself as quickly as he could. Vil didn't see that, Vil wouldn't know... Unless Rook told him. Worries for later.

"Well, I'll see you this weekend, [Name]," Epel told them with a laugh and a sweet smile, "Let's make this one count."

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Ortho Shroud

[Name] asks Ortho if he would like to see a movie.

Ortho says that he would love to go out with a friend.

He needs to ask his brother if he can go out with you.

[Name] makes a joke that if Ortho were older and perhaps not a robot/android it could be like a "date" for the two of them.

Ortho laughs and agrees that if it were Idia, it would be.

He knows about dates from Idia's visual novel collection and the internet (remember how he has access to the entire web?)

The two decide to prank Idia and tell him it IS a date.

Ortho argues that Idia needs to be surprised once in a while or he would just only play video games and hide in his dorm room.

Idia has a near heart attack over "Ortho's first date."

Ortho is unembarrassed by the question and excited to go!

He doesn't understand what might be embarrassing about an outing with the Prefect. It's not like it's a real date or anything.

Ortho laughed at [Name]'s baffled expression. They seemed shocked that he had agreed. Had they expected some other outcome?

"What? Did you expect me to say no?" the synthetic human asked them, coming just a bit closer, "I'll have you know I like spending time with you too! It's nice to have friends to go places with."

[Name] stuttered out stray sounds for a moment before they were able to phrase anything that was understandable language.

"I just thought you'd be busy since you're always with Idia-san."

"Hehe, my brother does keep me pretty busy," Ortho agreed before pausing, "Oh, that reminds me!"

[Name] looked at Ortho as he spoke.

"We need to ask my brother if I can go with you."

Ortho explained this as if it were obvious and [Name] supposed it was a natural source of events.

"Right now?"

In response to [Name]'s question, Ortho nodded.

"It would be best to do it sooner rather than later."

"Ah, alright!" [Name] replied.

They had expected Idia's consent would be somewhere in the steps it took to ask Ortho on an outing. Hopefully, this won't be too much of a hassle, they thought. The last thing they needed was more chaos.

"Follow me, [Full Name]-san!" Ortho cheered, floating off to guide [Name] from the hallway to the mirror that entered Ignihyde's dormitory.

It was a different kind of dorm, [Name] supposed. Ignihyde did not look anything like the other dorms. Though each dorm was unique, Ignihyde looked from a different time period with some of its elements. [Name] was used to it, though. This was not their first nor last time in this dormitory, however, it was their first time traveling to Idia and Ortho's bedroom.

Without knocking, Ortho opened the door. Before them was Idia Shroud dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while he seemed to be typing one of the longest comments [Name] had ever seen (though they couldn't make out what it said).

"Nii-san!" Ortho called out, making Idia prickle, "I need to ask you something!"

"WHAT?" came a louder-than-normal exclamation from the blue-haired boy, "I mean... Oh, Ortho... Yeah?"

"[Full Name]-san asked me to go to a movie with them this weekend. Am I allowed to go with them?" Ortho asked with a smile, speaking as though it was the most basic question in the world.

In reality, it was a fairly simple question, but not for Idia. The Ignihyde Housewarden froze, feeling the shock of the comment strike him to his core. Idia lunged forward and took Ortho by the shoulders.

"They asked you out on a date?" Idia asked him.

"They want to go to the movies—"

Ortho did not get to finish his sentence.

"A DATE, ORTHO?" Idia continued, louder, ignoring [Name]'s presence intentionally or not as he put Sebek's typical volume to shame.

"We're going to the movies—"

Ortho once again did not get to finish his sentence.

"This is just like the new anime I've been watching, but you're so... You're too young to be experiencing a shoujo anime!"

"Nii-san..." Ortho tried to reason with his older brother.

"Idia-san..." [Name]'s tone mirrored Ortho's.

"Fine, fine. I can't, like, be the opposition. That would be so uncool of me if I were to ruin the interaction between the ML and his love interest," Idia decided.

In the end, Ortho and [Name] never did get to clarify the categorization of their outing with Idia. They supposed he would just get to think whatever it was he thought until it was out of his system.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek tries to refuse as he is "busy" with his work as a guard.

Malleus needs him, is his primary argument.

Sadly Malleus is quick to disprove this theory.

Sebek gawks as his master instructs him to participate in the human custom of a "date" to better his homeland.

Sebek is too offended at first to be embarrassed...

But then it sets in and his face is such a bright red it makes his hair look a bit silly with its green color.

He stutters and is unable to talk to [Name] for a minute or so.

He settles on nodding while this happens

In the end, he yells as per usual "OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."

Never a quiet moment with this one.

Sebek wasn't sure what to make of the words the human uttered. They wanted him to do what? That seemed highly inappropriate. Did he need to refuse this offer? He did think it was somewhat tempting, though. He did not hate this human. They were... not as irritating at the other humans at Night Raven College.

"Human," Sebek began, "I am afraid that I must refuse this invitation as I.. cannot forsake my role as a guard to Waka-sama."

He watched as their expression fell even if only slightly.

"Ah, alright then..." they managed to say before an awe-inspiring presence interrupted them.

"Sebek," Malleus spoke, his voice causing Sebek to straighten up more than he had been before the arrival of his master, "What is going on here, exactly?"

"W-Waka-sama," the halfling spoke, stuttering the first bit of his sentence from the surprise, "I was just alerting this human that I cannot leave your side for a... a 'date' of some kind."

Malleus raised an eyebrow.

So this was what it was about.

"And why can you not accompany this child of man?"

[Name] perked up at a mention of them as Sebek fumbled for an answer for the prince.

"Well, you see, I am your guard, after all..." he began, but Sebek soon fell silent under a piercing glare from Malleus.

"Sebek," the fae prince spoke in a low tone, "Will you do something for me?"

"Yes? Yes, of course, sir!"

"Guard this human on the date they have planned, this is imperative to Briar Valley."

Sebek's posture tensed even more at the order as he bowed to Malleus. [Name] stood there baffled by the sight of it all.

"AH! Of course, Waka-sama! Whatever you desire!"

Though Sebek did not notice it, [Name] could have sworn they saw Malleus smirk at the outcome. Had he done this with the intent to help them? They supposed they could always ask him about it later.

"So you can come with me?" [Name] asked Sebek a moment later.

"OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."

[Name] just laughed. The answer was... very Sebek.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 3 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2])

lilia: falling through time, desperately trying to help alice

agatha: bitch I'm trying to save myself!!!!! oh she's so awkward when she thinks lilia's going mad. she's a moment away from grabbing a broom and going there, there like in that 30 rock scene

I know they had a relatively low budget for this show and it was such a blessing in disguise. they invested in great sets and instead of cgi they relied on classic cinema tricks that I find so satisfying?? Idk if it's just nostalgia talking. here they simply move the camera away for a moment, lower the lights and move the actor in position, and it makes for an amazing jumpscare.

baby lilia asking 'vuoi vedere?' do you want to see? because it is a choice for lilia. for a long time she chose not to use her gift- she was simply too powerful, she saw too much, and the knowledge of the future scarred her and made her an outcast among others

alice's smile at seeing a vision of her mom T-T

why inconvenient? what was jen doing? she was an obstetrician and midwife. she was helping women out with herbs and pagan knowledge passed down from mother to daughter. Back in the day midwives were struggling to get their skills recognized in an increasingly male dominated field, they were advocating alternative treatments for women constantly humiliated by condescending modern doctors - from forced bed rest to insane asylums to lobotomy in worst case scenarios. think Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story, The Yellow Wallpaper. think about everything that happened to Virginia Woolf.

we know that alice was a teenager when lorna died in a fire. she wasn't well, alice says, and we see now that she had a drinking problem. it's equally possible that the demon got to her or that she set herself on fire out of desperation. and if lorna could feel her own mother dying, alice could too.

daang great zombie makeup on the teacher lady

lilia when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: burdened by knowledge way beyond the scope of humanity she goes into exile

agatha when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: you know what I'm gonna tap that

I saw people saying that because the Road wasn't real nothing that happened in the show mattered, that they all died for nothing. I disagree completely, and not only because Billy's chaos magic is so astonishingly powerful that he can create a functional Road out of thin air. like, it wasn't a trick, he made it real. But more importantly, what happened to these women, their experiences, their growth on the Road is real. Even if Billy didn't do it on purpose, even if it's fucked up that a teenager can essentially go, you know what would be cool? if they all experienced their deepest trauma! but that's the point, that's the point, that's the whole damn point of the show. life is chaos and nonsense and heartbreak, it's up to you to find a meaning where there isn't any. look at lilia! the lesson is not that you're going to die, but what you choose to do with the cards that you're dealt, with the time that you're given.

while Patti clearly has an american accent, she is speaking correct sicilian, tutti morti su' - they could have had her talk in italian and hardly anyone would have noticed, but they went above and beyond with the details. the latin in the show is also rather impressive, like they actually hired experts rather than relying on google translate

agatha has gotten too used to run leaving a pile of bodies behind. not so easy to consider them just food when you have to live alongside them and witness their feelings, is it?? first wanda and now this!

@perpetualanon pointed out yesterday that agatha also had selfish reasons for wanting to save billy, i.e. she didn't want to risk him being poisoned because who knows what horrors a hallucinating billy could create. Yes! exactly that! it's always worth saying that when agatha has these fleeting moments of compassion and altruism it's in the context of a whole lotta selfishness. i think of her as that drawing of Stitch's badness level, her whole body is almost filled to the brim with awfulness and there's only a thin layer of goodness that she's constantly trying to smother. her actions on the Road are almost entirely selfish, but for the first time in centuries she's surrounded by people, like Lilia here and Jen and Alice and especially Billy, who are accidentally nurturing her almost atrophied good side. and lemme tell you she's pissed about it!

of course these two don't know what a sous vide is, one is dirt poor and the other eats people.

I'm gonna take a stand for zoomers here, he might have never learned what counterclockwise means, but millennials like me would also have hesitated and tried to picture it in our minds. because a lot of us lack spacial intelligence and are generally rather dumb

the shock and terror on her face when she hears nicky crying

another great special effect achieved only with lights and the cast shuffling out of frame

they show the darkhold because they need to mislead viewers and can't give nicky's story away just yet, but doesn't it make sense that agatha would see it? all these centuries blaming rio, and deep down agatha is haunted not by Death, but by her own actions and choices. the way she kept Nicky isolated and unsafe. the way she insulted his memory by going on killing sprees instead of letting herself mourn. the way she used the darkhold to corrupt her soul more and more, because she was never brave enough to confront her guilt.

kathryn hahn really said, do you want Emotional Devastation???? do you wanna see a woman SUFFER? do you want your heart put through a blender??? I can do that in TWO seconds

agatha wants to NOT DIE so badly that she has to drop the clown act and give jen a proper pep talk. because she knows what makes people tick and she can uplift just as well as she can destroy, she can help jen because she knows her so well. there's always that potential there, all of agatha's talent and her intelligence and experience could shape her into a great mother and sister in a coven. a potential that evanora refused to see and that will likely never be fulfilled.

and the irony, the irony of never wanting to hurt jen, to deliberately avoid going after her - because she's a midwife. because nicky was stillborn, because she had to give birth alone in the woods. agatha believes with all her heart that jen's work is fundamentally good and important. and yet she was the one who bound and tortured and violated her. she was so fucking focused on herself that she didn't even realize she was tramping and destroying everything in her path like a mad steamroller. she allied with the enemy, she went against her community's best interests. there's a lot to think about there, I really want to explore it more

patti during that hot ones episode

NOW YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER. and of course it's alice who does

your internalized stereotypes are really testing lilia's patience, billy (and while they consider the oven sharon is writhing and dying on the table)

how it started: jen pushing lilia out of the way

how it ended: "you are my sister in the craft" 🥲

I love you patti lupone

alice is strong! alice is noble! alice is pure of heart!

gee i wonder why

they had to add a goonies poster in billy's room because of this scene, but i guess disney didn't want to buy the copyright so the poster says "the goofballs"

agatha shoving everyone and then kicking jen twice for good measure

my guilty pleasure is watching reactors on youtube (don't judge) and everyone, everyone had my same reaction to sharon's death: she is not really dead. it was too unceremonious, too sudden. you cannot have debra jo rupp unconscious for half an episode and then get rid of her like that, she's too talented, too funny, how can they keep the humor up without her? if sharon is gone they don't want to watch anymore! no, they're gonna bring her back for sure, they're witches, they're going to find a way.

And then Alice dies, and it's unfair, it's too sad, she just had her big victory! that doesn't sit right with you, that the writers would do her so dirty. And then Lilia dies.

Wanda said it from the very beginning: we cannot reverse death, no matter how sad it makes us. Some things are forever. Sharon's death was horrible and uncomfortable and senseless on purpose, because these shows are about the exploration of grief. How can you make peace with the impossible? How can you reconcile yourself with a nice fun lady dying after losing her last shred of agency, scared and alone and forgotten? Didn't she deserve so much more than being just a casualty of witchfolk drama? And how can you reconcile yourself with someone as good and as wonderful as Alice dying in such a cruel way? What about the death of a parent? of a spouse? of a child? What about your own death, as inevitable and inescapable as your birth?

I'm posting this one early cos I didn't sleep last night and I wanna take a nap now 🥲 when I'm tired i ramble, I knew that already. sorry-y!

we get to episode four tomorrow, and y'all know what, or rather WHO, that means!

go to episode 4 part 1

[dearest-and-nearest]

That's my canon and most lovely route, but with one little thing: Aretha is a mage herself. She simply doesn't feel she's a part of magic as social group.

As we all know, Malcolm's personality changes to match Hawke's. So in my canon it was hard, cruel even man, who raised the same hard and cruel daughter. For me it seems fitting why Carver feels so unconfident and nervous

But back to the post. I was talking about this many times and yes, game almost begs you to support mages, always giving you an opportunity to change your mind if you're going with Templars, but almost never - if you're with mages. If you support none in the start of act 3, Orsino is the one who gives you quests, not Meredith.

And honestly, I think it's bad. Like mages are dangerous, no matter what Anders says and wants, they are dangerous. Just remember Broken circle quest or Redcliff. Orsino helped fucking maniac simply because he was a fellow mage. Do I feel sorry for ordinary mages, who will be slaughtered? Yes, and you can still don't kill them, btw. But mostly - mages here deserve their fate, they turns to demons more quickly, than I write this post.

And honestly? I have no wonder why Meredith gone mad, she hadn't even need red lyrium for that, just imagine: you're a head of a templars in city full of mages. Your superiors do nothing, but gossip about your cruelty behind your back, while you have to do all the job, they're so useless than even can't capture apostate who came right in their arms. You're working all the time, but no matter what you do, this city is still full of bloodmages, apostates and other dangerous people.

And by the way, act 3 starts with Orsino in hightown reading speech almost right near church (i feel he would be do this near church with pleasure, but near our home is more comfortable). He left the Gallows, swimmed to docks, then went through it, all Lowtow, almost all high town, all the way we do through finals of act 2 and act 3, and nobody stopped him. And in this time game tells us that Meredith is especially tyrannical in this act

I know it's probably devs' mistake and consequence of no time and money during development, but I don't care. I'm judging the story game shows me and it what it shows and what it tells me conflicts from the first act 3 scene and even before that. And I have tendency to believe my eyes and ears, not what devs wanted to imply, but couldn't.

So yeah, I genuinely think templar route can be perfectly logical for Hawke, should we remove sympathy for circle mages for whatever reason. Does Hawke dislike their sister or do they not think that all mages are their friends - boom, they have a good reasons to support Meredith. And it's really underestimated route in fandom, because people mostly play as good ans don't know what a cool things can be in "bad" routes

While writing that Dragon Age 2 post the other day, I made a narrative connection I had never made before.

I was writing about the Templar route, and about how the game makes no bones about how the Templar route is the evil route, it's clearly narratively marked as such. Because the structure of the game sets itself up from the start to make Hawke have some sympathy for the mages: they are the child of a mage and the sibling of a mage. This is an issue that Hawke cannot exempt themselves from having opinions on.

But that said, yes, you can choose the Templar route. You can decide that the tragedy of your family being ripped apart by the mage plight has hardened Hawke's heart against them. You can join forces with the Order that has hunted your family members their whole lives. You can choose to tighten the iron fist, instead of choosing to break it. You can become the ruler of Kirkwall. You can kill your sister.

And then I realized: That's Meredith's story.

Meredith, whose sister was a mage, the sister who died from it and ripped her family apart in the process. Meredith, who hardened her heart against people like her sister and dedicated the rest of her life to punishing others like her. Meredith, who joined causes with the Templar order who made that happen. Meredith, who took over the city.

You can choose to become Meredith. The game lets you do that. But you have to know -- as you climb over her corpse to ascend her bloodied throne -- that it's not a 'good' choice.

[sweetbunpura]

Filled with Static...

Summary: Yuu was already fed up before coming to Playful Land and now that it's over... She has some very choice words for she has reached her boiling point...

Sorry in advance~

Yuu watches with hollow eyes as Fellow and Gidel depart without having to face the consequences of their actions. Everyone jokes around her about what they just went through, but static is rapidly and quickly filling Yuu's ears. She moves away from the group and makes her way down a street, unaware of the sound of footsteps behind her. A hand lands on her shoulder and she's quick to slap it off.

"Ow, rude much?"

Yuu turns to see Ace with his arms crossed. "What?"

"Just wanted to know why you took off like that."

"Why do you care?"

"Wow, jeez." Ace scoffed. "I knew you were snippy from the start, but I thought that would've cleared up. What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal? What's the big deal!?" Her voice echoes throughout the small area of the docks. "Ace, are you fucking blind as well as a total fucking moron!?" She jabs her hand to where Playful Land used to be. "We almost got turned into puppets and sold off because of you guys!"

"Hey, we got out in the end!"

"No, we didn't. If Fellow hadn't gotten that phone call, we'd be goners." The others have stopped a few feet away, but Yuu ignores them. "And you're cracking jokes about it."

"Well, destroying the park was-"

"I mean about the whole thing, you brainless baboon." She snarls. "From the start, you ignored all the fucking warning signs that said you should stay far away from this man. Did Azul tricking you not ring any bells in that empty head of you?" She tapped her finger against Ace's forehead. "And even when you were told that the warning signs were blaring red, you still ignored them."

"Hold on." Ace growled. "Why am I getting signaled out?"

"Oh it's not just you, Ace." She points behind him. "It goes double for those cacophony of idiots."

"Wow, rude, Yuu-chan..." Cater mutters.

"I get that you guys are like this. It's all fun and games to the ones who can use magic." She shakes her hand in a mocking way. "But this is just another scar on my body that I do not need." She pulls up her sleeves to show the overblot scars...as well as a new wooden looking scar on her wrist. "You guys think this is a joke, when it's not. You're risking my life with your guys shit."

"You came with us!" Ace argues.

"Cause I had to make sure my useless excuse for a fucking cat didn't keel over and die!" Yuu shouts and begins shoving Ace. "You. Treat. Me. Like. I'm. Expendable." She pushes him back. "I'm a living being too, jack ass, what I have done to warrant being treated lower than dirt? Every time this happens, and I almost lose my life in the process... how many more times is this going to be an almost before it actually happens?"

The red head narrows his eyes and snorts. "If you hate it here so much, why don't you just go back home?"

"Ace..." Lilia tries to say but is cut off by Yuu socking Ace in the face and sending him to the ground.

"NEWS FLASH, ASSHOLE!" The look in Yuu's eyes are murderous. "I'VE BEEN TRYING TOO! YOU GUYS CAN JUST CALL UP YOUR FAMILY OR SEND THEM A QUICK TEXT TO CHECK UP ON THEIR WELL BEING! YOU'RE A PORTAL AWAY FROM HOME! I HAVE NOTHING, I GOT NOTHING, I HAVE NO FAMILY HERE AND I AM REMINDED OF IT EVERY DAY BY YOU GUYS AND BY CROWLEY!" Tears well up in her eyes. "I've had it here. I'm gone. I'm leaving NRC, I'm getting far away from you guys." She turns to leave and rubs her eyes. "Enjoy the rest of your fucking lives."

"Yuu-chan!"

"Shrimpy!"

"Herbivore, come back!"

"Potato!"

"Henchhuman!" Grim tries to follow after her only to lower his ears and back up as she shoots the darkest glare she can muster at him. "I'm....I'm..."

Yuu disappears into the morning crowd that had gathered to learn what the commotion was about. She did not return to NRC that day...rather Crewel had found her, curled up outside his temporary house.

"Oh, Pup...." He pulls his coat off, wraps it around the crying young lady, and helps her inside.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 47 – CANON DIVERGENCE

SERIES: Guys and Bots by Annie D (scaramouche)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 33,357 Tags: First Kiss, Flirting, Banter

Reasons why I love it: At this point it's no secret that I love everything Annie D has ever written, and this series is no exception. It's funny, emotional, fluffy and angsty in turns, and it's a rollercoaster ride that I will always come back for more of. If you like fantastic characterization, great humor and a wonderful ending, then you're going to love this one just as much as I do!

This series consists of:

Stick With Me, baby, I'm the Fella You Came in With

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 10,660 Tags: First Time, Light-Hearted, Humor

Summary: During the final battle with Ultron, Tony kisses Steve for the first time. Afterward, he makes it clear to Steve that he was just running on adrenaline and not thinking clearly. Steve seems to accept it, but the kiss nudges open a door of possibilities, and the situation escalates.

Reasons why I love it: They're both such dorks, I love them! That game of chicken they're playing is so much fun to see, and the emotional moments hit all the harder for how light-hearted and fluffy the rest of the fic is. This fic makes me so happy, and it's the perfect start to a fantastic series!

You Gamble on Everything, All Except Me

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 17,763 Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Post-AoU

Summary: Tony learns what it’s like to date Steve.

Reasons why I love it: The dialogue in this just kills me with how good it is. Annie D's writing always does that to me, but there's something about this one in particular that just stuck with me. In related news, the smut is scorchingly hot, and the Accords angst at the end is one of the best ways I've seen that entire mess dealth with. I adore it, and I bet you will too!

If I were a Bell

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 4,217 Tags: Bittersweet, Long-Distance Relationship, Bearded Steve

Summary: Officially, Tony hasn't seen Steve since the Sokovia Accords were ratified. Unofficially, Steve is a sneaky bastard who keeps taking risks to see Tony whenever he wants.

Reasons why I love it: It's rare that the aftermath of the Civil War is handled with such understanding and care on both sides, and I love that Annie D gave us a version that doesn't hurt but instead inspires hope. Plus, Tony's fixation on Steve's beard is hilarious, and the smut is hot as hell, as usual. I love this one so much!

Timestamp: Guys and Bots

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 717 Tags: Infinity War, Magic, Avengers Team

Summary: Heading into the events of Avengers: Infinity War.

Reasons why I love it: This timestamp feels like a perfect little bow on top of a Christmas present. Honestly, I could read a billion more words in this universe, but this is such a perfect ending that I can't imagine anything topping it. If you haven't read this series yet, I really hope you give it a try, because it's absolutely fantastic!

[wundergeek]

Excerpt from a 4K word fic of me being Very Normal About G'raha along these lines - - -

THEN

I returned, dazed, to the bottom of the lift.

Alisaie gave me a too-innocent smile. "How was your talk with the Exarch?"

Shit. She knew. Of course she knew.

I fought down a surge of panic. We'd never made what we had official - in fact, Alisaie had shut me down every time I'd tried to mention my burgeoning feelings. But she still deserved to know that I'd kissed someone else. "Alisaie, I..."

"You want to fuck the Exarch," she said, smirking.

My cheeks burned. "It's complicated," I mumbled.

Which it was. I'd kissed the Exarch, but I wasn't sure I wanted to fuck him. On the other hand, I'd wanted to fuck G'raha, but never got a chance to kiss him.

"I don't know how I feel about fucking the Exarch, but I did kiss him. And I'd like to do it again. But. I won't if you don't want me to."

To my relief, Alisaie shook her head. "No promises, remember? We could all die tomorrow, so why not chase what happiness you can today?" She rolled her eyes and punched me fondly in the arm. "Besides. Do I look foolish enough to think I can put a fence around a heart big enough to love the entire world?"

For the second time that day, profound, unutterable relief. She understood. "Thank you."

Alisaie waved her hand airily. "If you want to thank me, go get your boy."

I laughed.

- - -

NOW

The soul vessel is pulsing slowly, but G'raha is still unconscious. My magical senses tell me something seems to be happening, but it's happening a lot slower than it did with the Scions.

"Gods damn it, G'raha." I snap. "I had to watch you die, so if you haven't somehow managed to pull this rabbit out of your hat, I'm going to be... very cross with you." My voice breaks as the last comes out as a sob.

I put my head on my knees and weep.

I've cried myself out and am sitting there, trembling miserably, when G'raha finally stirs and opens his eyes. I see recognition, followed by confusion reflected in his red eyes. "Savvel?"

"G'raha!" I manage to give him a watery smile, but my heart is still in my throat. "How much do you remember?"

He blinks as he searches his memories. "I remember Elidibus," he says slowly. "And climbing the Crystal Tower and... Gods. Oh Gods, I remember turning--" I shush him as I pull him into my arms and stroke his back. He sobs and buries his face in my neck.

"I've got you, G'raha. We're in the Source. You're okay." My voice breaks, and I realize that I'm grinning like a fool and crying at the same time. "Everybody is okay."

"Everybody? ...really?"

"You're the last to wake up, on account of all the pesky security systems you've got around here."

G'raha laughs weakly, and it hits me all at once that somehow we did it. We won, and he's okay - better than okay! - he's alive, awake, and seems to have all his memories intact. My arms tighten convulsively around him and I nuzzle into his hair. "You're an idiot and I forbid you from sacrificing yourself again," I choke out. "Do you hear me?"

G'raha laughs again, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "sometimes sacrifices have to be made."

"No." My voice is firm, the most firm, and I am definitely not giggling. "I don't accept that."

"You wouldn't."

And then G'raha's mouth is on mine. We kiss in a delicious frenzy of mouths and hands and moaning, so much moaning, and I realize that Alisaie was correct. I do want to fuck the Exarch.

Read the whole fic on AO3

G'raha, I would die for you

Okay. Replaying Shadowbringers rn and G'raha just got abducted by Emet-Selch, and this whole scene hits just as hard on the fourth play-through as it did on the first. Look at this fuckin face. This is the face of a man who loved you from a distance for A HUNDRED YEARS assuming you didn't even remember his fucking name, until you call out to him just as he's about to sacrifice his life for yours.

He's about to teleport himself into the Rift and fuckin' die, and still, that proof that you remember him, that you matter to him makes him so fucking happy.

And. Like. Take a minute to think about that.

Not only did he come up with this insane scheme to rewrite history, then actually have the brilliance to pull it off, but... he has lived MULTIPLE LIFETIMES for you, and walked into this situation anyway, fully thinking that he was going to die, and totally prepared to sacrifice more than anyone could possibly comprehend. Like - imagine living long enough to see the small community of refugees you harbored to grow into a vibrant city. Imagine being part of their lives as the first residents of the Crystarium have children, grow old, and die, even as their children are having children of their own.

Imagine an attack that happens during that second generation that kills a couple with a young child and taking her in because she has no one to care for her. Imagine taking time, despite all of your responsibilities and literally being on the clock to save the world, to raise her to be strong, loyal, and unfailingly excellent at what she does. She isn't your blood, but she's the closest thing you'll ever have to a daughter, and still you don't hesitate to leave when it's time to see your scheme through to its ultimate end - your ultimate end.

Imagine what it would have been like making those final preparations without being able to tell anyone that you were saying goodbye.

Imagine having tea with Chessamile and agreeing with her that you need to do this more often.

Imagine discussing improvements to the Crystarium with Katliss that you know you'll never see.

Imagine gossiping with Bragi and knowing you'll never get to hear how things turned out.

Imagine visiting Moren to give him a book and saying nothing as he insists that he'll return it to you when he's finished.

Imagine having lunch with Lyna, your daughter, who will find herself in charge when you're gone, and having to give her instructions about what to do in the event of your death.

Imagine having that much love in your life - an entire city that you built from the ground up, and whose residents you loved with all your heart, and who loved you just as strongly. And calmly bidding that entire life farewell as you take an amaro to Kholusia to rewrite history by saving the life of the person you love, thinking that you were nothing more than a minor footnote in their previous adventures. Then imagine finding out at the literal last second that they not only remember, but cared deeply about you the entire time, and still having the strength of will to sacrifice yourself anyway.

What an icon. What an absolute fucking legend.

[windvexer]

How do you feel about the stance that you shouldn't read tarot for yourself about a situation that upsets/ worries you while you're still feeling upset about it?

I think it's a solid stance.

I've been reading tarot for a really long time, and the one thing that has always remained true for my practice - and what I have seen in others - is that you can't produce an accurate reading without impartiality.

Emotions are information, and that information overrides impartiality. In my experience this is true when it comes to tarot and indeed all forms of divination.

It has been a very long-standing rule of mine that querents should never send me background information on a question. That is because the background information leads me to form a judgment, and then I can't accurately interpret it.

And this is for a third party, probably someone I've never even talked to before. And my emotions can still override impartiality.

"Can I get a relationship reading for J? We had a falling out 2 months ago when I caught him texting other girls but now I'm giving him a second chance but he's being secretive with his phone again."

Okay, well now I feel a certain way about J. And no matter what cards I pull, I am going to have this emotionally driven narrative in my head. Even when I try to push it away, it's going to cloud the reading. Those emotions are going to discolor my interpretation, even if I pull cards that are technically accurate.

Imagine how much more distracting and misleading that emotional information is when it's my life, my strong feelings, and my personal investment in the outcome of a situation.

Getting an accurate reading under those circumstances is very difficult.

In my experience, while I'm upset it is very easy to produce readings that seem to be intense, solid, and affirmative according to my own verifications - only to realize later on that I literally just made the whole thing up, and none of it was true at all.

In addition, it's a bad idea in terms of mental health. If I'm already upset and anxious about something and I pull negative cards, I'm kicking myself while I'm down.

I'm not saying a person has got to be emotionless to perform divination. But I do think that a person has to stand in their own power. (Interpret that as you will). If you can find your power in being upset, like standing in the eye of the storm, perhaps you can read accurately while actively upset about the situation. I can't, and I don't think many people can.

So it's not as if being upset on a topic "magically" ruins the card pulls, or something like that.

I just think that it ruins our place of perspective, so that we are digging in the mud looking for a path forward, when we really should be sitting on a nice throne looking down at a map.

I think it sets you up for failure, and puts you at a very high risk for feeding yourself complete nonsense that you've decided is actually true, and then making bad decisions based off of bad intel.

And, IMO it's very unhealthy to let your moods hinge on whether you pulled a good card or not. Your emotions shouldn't be dependent on whether you pull Sun or Devil. But I think that people turn to divination in these circumstances precisely because they want to feel better. It's a risky game, and it's not a good idea to get in the habit of letting tarot poke at your bruises.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi I hope you are having a great day.

I was wondering if you could write more about Eddie Munson dating a Swiftie.

- Swiftie anon

um yes absolutely!

I saw a tiktok where a girl was showing her boyfriend All Too Well (10 Minute Version) which is what this was inspired by. If I can find it, I'll link it here!

"So this one is allegedly about Jake Gyllenhall," you tell him as you put on the next song, turning it up since it's the one you really to see his reaction to.

"How do you know this?"

"The internet, baby. That's why I say allegedly because there's no actual confirmation that it's about him, but I mean, it's pretty clear that it is."

"This is ten minutes?" He asks as he looks at the little screen in his car that shows what song is playing.

Sure, a lot of the songs he listens to are much longer than that, but that's expected with the genres he listens to. It's not very common for a pop song to exceed five minutes so he thinks there must be a lot that needs to be said.

"Yes," you nod. "But I promise it won't even feel like. Oh, and there's a short film as well that we can watch later."

"A short film?"

Eddie doesn't know why that surprises him. Considering everything he's heard about this woman from you, it seems like she's always doing something and even though he's never really been a huge fan of hers, he can still appreciate how much she loves her job and how much effort and love she puts into each project.

"Yes! It really shows what their relationship was like and puts the whole thing into perspective."

The lyrics start and you're singing along, even going as far as pulling out a red scarf from your purse and wrapping it around your neck. Eddie looks at you briefly before turning back to the road as he laughs how committed to the bit you are.

You're singing along to the lyrics as Eddie tries to focus on them, pausing the song after only a few lines.

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold But something 'bout it felt like home somehow And I left my scarf there at your sister's house And you've still got it in your drawer, even now

"Pause," he says, trying to wrap his head around what he's just heard.

"He kept her scarf?" The whole thing seems so weird to him. He understands to an extent, but not enough to defend who is being sung about.

"Yes!" You reply. "He was even seen wearing it while walking around town, Eddie! There are paparazzi pictures."

"So weird," he shakes his head then plays the song again.

And I know it's long gone and That magic's not here no more And I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all

"This is so heartbreaking," he comments, really hearing the pain in her voice.

"And it only gets worse from here," you sigh, obviously already knowing what's coming.

And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy" Keychain on the ground, we were always skipping town And I was thinking on the drive down, "Any time now, He's gonna say it's love", you never called it what it was Till we were dead and gone and buried Check the pulse and come back, swearing it's the same After three months in the grave And then, you wondered where it went to, as I reached for you But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame

Eddie doesn't want to admit it, but that part's made him feel something. Maybe it's just how heartbroken she sounds or how she talks about how she really seemed to love him and was proud of their relationship while whoever she's singing about just wanted to hide what they had away because he seemed ashamed.

He thinks about how he would never want to do that to you, how he loves to flaunt your relationship, even going as far as kissing you in public, not giving a single damn who's watching. So he doesn't understand how people can feel so ashamed of their partner.

And you call me up again Just to break me, like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'Cause I remember it all, all, all Too well

"He made her feel like a piece of paper, Eddie."

"Brutal," he replies with a sigh.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell Every time you double-cross my mind You said, "If we had been closer in age, maybe it would have been fine" And that made me want to die

"What was the age difference?"

"She was nineteen or twenty and he was twenty-nine." That makes Eddie's stomach churn. He's the same age and can't even conceptualize wanting to pursue someone as young as nineteen or twenty. That's a whole nine and ten years difference and that would definitely make for a power imbalance.

"Gross. And he's just saying that to make himself feel better. Because the truth is, he was going to end it anyway because it's clear that he doesn't care about her as much and she cares about him. The whole thing seems manipulative."

"See! I knew you'd understand." You love how much he's actually thinking about the lyrics and what they mean just like you do.

The idea you had of me, who was she? A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you Not weeping in a party bathroom Some actress asking me what happened, you That's what happened, you You, who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

"Hold on," he pauses the music again. "He didn't show up to her birthday party?"

"No," you shake your head in disappointment. "He didn't. And there's a whole song about that which we can listen to later."

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes I'll get older, but your lover's stay my age

"Damn," is all Eddie can say in response to the line. "That was cutthroat."

The song comes to an end as the the car rolls up to your destination and Eddie just sits there, staring out through the windshield, clearly deep in thought. He then turns to you, still looking like he's pondering.

"Can we listen to it again?" He asks, which surprises you."

"Of course we can, baby," you reply and play the song again as you two sit in silence in the grocery store parking lot that Eddie had just pulled into. It seems like your groceries can wait. At least for the next ten minutes, they can.

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Welp, I did a thing 👀

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio VIdal

Word Count: 4,572

I´m also sharing the AO3 link for anyone who prefers to read on there ❤

Agatha blew a rogue strand of hair from her face and wiped her brow. Even with all the magic in the world she was still doomed to a lifetime of digging up her own graves whenever the situation called for it. Which, unfortunately, it did. When the news hit her that a particularly powerful Witch had just recently “bit the dust”, and happened to take a very enticing talisman along with her - a talisman that Agatha had every intention of acquiring - she knew exactly what needed to be done.

“God, Cynthia, could they have buried your ass any deeper?”

Agatha was already in a foul mood as it was, and the ripening smell of decay and wet earth was doing very little to better it. Still, she did her best to ignore it and stay focused on the task at hand.

“Desecrating the dead, are we now, Aggs?”

Agatha stopped short, scowling at the infuriating nickname before peering up from the half dug grave.

“Oh, jesus fuck, what are you doing here?” She asked. The air outside suddenly felt iced over - almost cold enough to see her breath. Agatha glowered at the last woman in the universe she currently wanted to see.

“Heh, could ask you the same thing.” Rio replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Agatha snorted before going back to her digging. “Well that, sweetcheeks, is none of your damn business.”

“Oh, come on, Aggie. Give me the deets.”

The dark haired woman wiggled her eyebrows at Agatha, an act that both infuriated her and also made her laugh. It was one of the things she hated most about Rio. Just how easy it was for her to break through her walls - to bring down her defenses. It might even be the thing she liked least about her ex lover. Even more than the fact that the love of her life was the literal personification of Death.

“And what's in it for me?” Agatha asked, peaking over her shoulder.

“Anything you want.” Rio teased.

The witch felt her whole body tense at the simple implications behind the reaper’s words, as well as her teasing tone. They were enough to bring an unwanted dusting of heat to Agatha’s cheeks. She cleared her throat and silently went back to digging. Rio only rolled her eyes and leaned back against the nearest tombstone, a black lollipop suddenly appearing between two fingers.

“So, how long is this gonna take? I don't have all night, you know.”

“Good. Then that means you can GO.”

The dark haired woman chuckled, she really never could get enough of riling her past lover up. In fact, there were days that she absolutely thrived off it. It fed her, you could say. Mind, body, and soul.

“Oh, now we both know you don't really want that, sweetheart.”

Agatha growled in frustration before slowing her digging down to a painfully tedious pace, her gaze practically shooting daggers in Rio’s direction, even with the smirk that now played at her lips.

“Looks like you're gonna be standing there looking pretty for a while, then.”

Rio pulled the lollipop from her mouth and grinned.

“You think I'm pretty?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Agatha could feel her temper rising. Both from Rio’s constant nagging and the persistent freeze that was seeping into her bones. She wanted nothing more than to no longer be cold and digging out dirt from inside a hole. Unfortunately for her, though, this amulet was far too important - way more important than anything else in her life - so giving up and going home to her warm bed was simply not an option.

“Come on, Agatha, this is borinnng.”

“Well, lucky for you, you don't have to be here. This has nothing to do with you, Rio.”

Rio snorted. “Ah, this has everything to do with me. You're literally in a graveyard, digging up the recently deceased corpse of a world renowned witch-”

“Oh, Cynthia was a twat!”

Rio covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Twat or not, Aggs. You know I'm right.”

Agatha shook her head and gritted her teeth.

“You’re welcome to get your ass in here, then, and help me. Otherwise, shut it.”

Rio popped the lollipop back into her mouth and gave it a swirl before answering.

“Nah, I think I rather prefer the view from out here.”

The reaper gave her a wink before Agatha disgruntingly went back to her digging. A light fog had begun to settle in over the graveyard, bringing in an even cold chill with it, Agatha couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled across her shoulders as she stuck her shovel deep into the moist dirt, reminding herself to collect a small vial of it later to take home. A couple more shovel fulls and the smell of fresh decay became more distinct, almost overwhelming, Agatha was certain she was finally nearly there. And the sound of metal striking something firm only confirmed her suspicions.

“Aha! Finally, you old witch.”

“Aren’t you like, a hundred years older than her?” Rio laughed.

“Yes, but I make it look good, darling.” Agatha replied, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder with a satisfied grin. “Now, let’s crack this baby open.”

The witch rubbed her gloved hands together excitedly before kneeling down, though, the smile on her face quickly faded, replaced by a frown.

“What’s up?”

“It’s stone.”

“Stoned?”

“NO, Rio, her coffin. It’s made from fucking stone.”

Agatha knelt down and began frantically wiping dirt from the top of the stone casket.

“AND it has a fucking protection spell engraved into it.” She added, clenching her fists. “Fuck!”

“Can’t you just.. blast it open?”

“Not without potentially damaging it.”

“... without potentially damaging what?”

“Ah, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Agatha quickly added, standing to straighten out her jacket before holding out a single gloved hand. “Now, help me out of here, will you? I need to find something to get this open with.”

“What’s in it for me?” Rio asked with a smirk.

The witch silently placed her shovel against the dirt and gave her ex lover a look.

“Just help me, before I-!”

Agatha felt the cold hand of Death clasp firmly onto hers and pull her from the deep grave, tugging with such force that she fell immediately forward. Right onto Rio. Their bodies completely flush together.

“Oh, whoops. Seems we have found ourselves in a rather.. complicated position.”

Rio batted her eyelashes in faux innocence, making Agatha snort.

“Mh.. and completely by accident, I’m sure.”

“Of course. You know me. I’d never.. fuck ..with the natural order of things.”

Agatha only shook her head before starting to lift herself up.

“Wait.”

Rio’s hand coming to rest firmly on her forearm brought the witch's gaze directly down at her. Her eyes as dark as obsidian, shimmering with moonlight from above and a measure of hope. Agatha’s breath shuddered, a small bite to her bottom lip as she looked down at her once lover - at her heart. She paused.

“Rio…”

In a tone that seemed far too soft for such a great and terrible witch, Agatha Harkness could barely breathe out the woman's name. She could barely stand to think of it. She closed her eyes before going to move again, but Rio grabbed her arm just the same. This time pulling her closer forward with near desperation.

“Agatha. Please.”

Even with the thick emotions that were swiftly building inside of her, Agatha could never pass up the chance to tease her past lover.

“Begging already, Reap? Someone’s losing her touch.”

The reaper's dark eyes grew wide at her old nickname, a slight quiver to her bottom lip. Agatha took off her gloves and placed two fingers around Rio’s jaw and pulled her close.

“You know you're my favorite poison, right?”

Whatever words were set to come out of Rio’s mouth next were consumed by a deep kiss. A kiss of longing and regret. Of passion and pain. A kiss that was felt in every universe, and in every timeline of their love. It washed over them in a warmth, languishing as their tongues danced and their souls devoured. Rio’s hands hungry, wandering over as much of Agatha’s body as they could until the witch grabbed them and pinned them over her head. Rio squirmed beneath her, whining slightly.

“And here now I thought you were going to behave.” Agatha whispered, breaking the kiss.

“Oh, we both know you like it best when I put up a little fight, darling.” Rio replied as she smirked up at her, her arms now struggling to get out of her past lover’s grasp. Agatha only chuckled before forcing Rio’s arms back down over her head and into the cold, wet grass. A soft incantation whispered into the night quickly binding the reaper’s hands in a wisp of bright purple.

“Sorry, Reap. This time, I’m in control.”

Rio pressed her hips firmly up into Agatha, forcing pressure against the witch’s core and making her moan.

“You sure about that?” She quipped back with a grin.

“Fuck you.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

Agatha placed her hand around the base of Rio’s neck - a slight maniacal look on the witch’s face as she applied pressure. The reaper gasped at the familiar touch before leaning into it, her hand coming unbound to hold Agatha’s wrist. A smirk playing at her lips.

Agatha scowled. She had always been annoyed at just how ineffective her powers were on Rio, but she guessed they'd have to be to be able to withstand loving someone like her.

“You're not playing fair, Reap.” She said, shaking her head.

“Aren't I, though?”

Rio gave Agatha a wink, an all too wide grin on her face as she placed both of her hands on Agatha’s biceps and flipped the two of them over with ease. Waves of dark hair falling forward and eyes as crisp as night staring down at the witch as she found herself suddenly on her back. She growled in frustration, but Rio knew how much it turned her on. The fighting, the struggle, the battle for dominance. Even though Agatha was usually always the one to come out on top, the reaper was more than happy to make her work for it a little first.

“Now who's in control? Huh? Sweetheart?”

Agatha bucked her hips, forcing her thigh across Rio’s core. A slight gasp followed by a needy moan slipped from the woman’s mouth, warming the space between them. Agatha looked up at her, smiling smugly - a single kiss blown in Rio’s direction before a flash of bright purple had them both on their feet.

“You were saying?”

Rio opened her mouth to speak, though her attempts to quip back were quickly stifled by the abrupt feeling of being flown through the air, cradles within her lover’s arms. Her back forced against the cold bark of the nearest tree. She moved slowly to straighten out her hair and shirt, clearing her throat.

“Oh, nooo. It seems you have me right where you want me, Agatha.”

Agatha leaned in, her warm breath skating over Rio's ear.

“Or maybe, I have you exactly where you want to be. Rio.”

Rio smirked, leaning even further back into the tree to elongate her neck. The bare branches above her rustling at Death’s touch.

“Maybe-”

And just like that, her words were swallowed. Replaced by moans and whimpers that only the rush of Agatha’s lips on hers could ensue. That only the firm but gentle touch of her heart’s caress could coax. The subtle dance of Agatha’s tongue over here, the utter need of it. As the witch’s hands roamed freely over her body like it was her own. As if she owned it physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

“Don’t make me.. beg.” She whimpered between heated kisses.

And she did.

Death was well aware that she would never love another. That Agatha was one in a million. Cut from stone and rock and stardust. Rio leaned into her touch even more, desperate to feel her everywhere. Desperate to have her inside of her.

“Aw, but why? Sounds so pretty coming from that mouth of yours.”

The witch’s hands and fingers danced over her like an ill forgotten melody. A dance macabre that waltzed over every part of her except where she needed it most. The desire inside of her being built higher and higher, bringing with it the all too familiar scent of life.

“See how beautiful it is when you're like this? How am I to just give in? ”

Agatha peered up at the tree Rio was pinned against, watching as new life began to breathe within it. As a swirl of green encased them both and the smallest of leaves started to blossom.

“Agatha… please...”

“Mmmh.”

Agatha hummed in the reaper’s ear before nipping at it, her tongue circling the outer shell of her ear. A trail of kisses spattering down Rio’s neck as even more leaves began to bloom. The cemetery around them a stark reminder of the frigid winter’s breath of the night, with all the other trees otherwise dead and barren. It was no secret to Agatha that Rio could breathe life into the darkest of areas, it was something her heart knew all too well.

“My love, pleas-.”

Whether by pure desire alone or the absolute need to never hear those words drip from Rio's tongue ever again, Agatha slid her hand deep into her pants. A mere second pause before her fingers were eagerly slipped inside of her. First one, then another. Rio gasped.

“Don’t.” Agatha replied adamantly, teasing her with a single curl of her fingers.

Rio let out a moan before pointing. “F-fine. Asshole.”

“That's more like it.” The witch smirked, pressing the dark haired woman even further into the tree, fingers curling deep inside her. Rio moaned a little louder, spurring a small patch of forget-me-nots to bloom on the branches above.

“Extra needy tonight, are we, Reap?” Agatha added, looking up at the small blue flowers.

“Fuck you.”

“Hmmm.. maybe.” Agatha replied, punctuating her words with a simple curl of her fingers. A third one slipping in. “If you behave.”

“F-fuck.”

Rio’s hitched breath only made the witch’s smirk smugger. Dark tendrils covering the reaper's face as her head fell forward.

“Uh-uh. Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Rio’s dark eyes show up, locking onto Agatha's without question. A beautiful pink hue splashed across her cheeks and the humming of life vibrating within the tree behind her. She looked beautiful like this, Agatha couldn't deny that, with the essence of life’s mortal balance pulsing inside of her. She curled her fingers again, this time a little deeper. A slight arch to Rio's back and the widening of her hips was all the witch needed to fuel her on further.

“That's it. That's my good Reap.”

Rio whimpered, her breath hitched. Eyelashes fluttering as Agatha pumped her fingers in and out very slowly - intently - giving her just enough to build her pleasure at an almost unbearable pace. Rio was wet. Dripping. With the measure of her arousal trickling down Agatha’s wrist and soaking her thin fabric that encased it.

“Agatha-”

“Shhh.”

The witch placed a single finger over Rio’s lips before kissing them, swallowing whatever pleas for more she had. The momentum of her fingers gradually picking up as warm tongues dance over each other. Rio's hand clenched into Agatha’s shirt, desperate to have her closer, to feel her warmth. The tree behind them beginning to brim with life, with more and more leaves sprouting as Rio’s pleasure was built higher and higher.

If there was anything that Agatha knew how to do - and do it well - was to coax that deep hidden fire inside of her past lover. To spark vitality within the cold hands of Death and build it anew. With each sweep of her tongue, every pump of her fingers, as she thrusted them deeper into Rio’s dripping core and forced her ecstasy to unbridled lengths. It was insistent - unrelenting. Like a wildfire that threatened to take over and burn down everything in its path.

Rio widened her legs further - eagerly - frantic to feel as much as Agatha inside of her as she could. A loud moan that seemed into the witch’s lips as Agatha slipped a fourth finger inside of her, stretching her with expertise. The pleasured heat was enough to will a warm arousal across her body. It was enough to have her legs trembling and her back arched almost completely off the tree. A tree that was now vibrant with life, breathing with color amongst a wintery backdrop of death.

Agatha only chuckled and sped up her fingers. In and out. Faster and faster. Grinning with satisfaction as Rio’s walls began to tremor around her hand.

“Just look at the all-powerful Death. All needy for me. Dying to come.”

Rio cursed under her breath as Agatha laughed at her own joke, her hips beginning to buck. Her normally fair skin covered in a deep flush as her fingernails dug into Agatha’s arm. The fire that now encompassed her body was relentless - unyielding - washing over her in a prickling heat that moved from the top of her and ended at her toes. As a final move Agatha circled her thumb over Rio’s clit, matching it with a thrust and made her whole body convulse. Flowers now blooming all around her, a shimmer of green sparking in crisp night air as Rio’s climax wholly took her over.

The last thing Agatha heard was her name screamed out through half bitten lips before Rio’s knees buckled out from under her, dropping her limp body into her ex lover’s arms.

“You alright there, Reap?” The witch asked with a smirk.

“Fuck-” Rio shuddered, the entirety of her practically steaming from the overwhelmth of energy.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Agatha chuckled, still holding the dark haired woman up against the tree. Rio took a deep breath before raising her head, but even with a dusting of pink still painting her cheeks she smirked.

“Heh. Just gave a whole new meaning to having ‘death come for you’.”

Agatha groaned at the terrible pun but Rio only grinned, her tongue circling over the inside of her cheek.

“And just how long have you been waiting to use that one?” The witch asked as she shook her head and moved back from tree, releasing her hold on Rio.

“Only a few decades.” She replied.

“Uh huh.”

Agatha laughed again, a soft crinkle to the corner of her eyes as she did. Her gaze shifted as Rio took a step forward, her dark eyes on Agatha.

“Got something on your mind, Reap?”

Another step forward.

“Maybe.”

Agatha swallowed, a subtle prickling at the back of her neck.

Another step.

“Care to share with the class then?” She asked, voice slightly more tentative than the last.

Rio took a final step forward and gave Agatha a smirk. Then dropped down to her knees in front of the witch, the grass beneath her immediately turning green with life.

“That answer your question?”

“Maybe.” Agatha replied, an all too knowing smirk curling at her lips as Rio lifted her skirt and pulled her closer. The scent of her arousal prominent, heady, with a musk that was so intoxicating Rio could all but lick her lips.

“Now who's all needy? Huh?”

Agatha scowled before attempting to pull away, but the reaper’s grasp was strong and kept the witch in place - exactly where she wanted to be.

“Nice try, but I can smell how bad you want this, sweetheart.” Rio smirked. Her fingers lightly grazing up the side of Agatha’s thigh as she inched closer to the hem of her underwear. Underwear that was promptly soaked through and begging to be ripped off.

Rio licked her lips and fell back upon her knees, allowing herself to take in the view. The amount of years that had passed since she was last gifted such a sight were long since gone and lost to ages. Even her deepest dreams had paled in comparison, when all she had was the comfort of her own hands and the dark of night to keep her company. She took a deep breath, breathing her in.

Which it was.

Quickly and without pause. Her arousal now shimmering in the cold moonlight.

“Well, don't just stare at it, Reap. Eat it.”

The dark haired woman looked up at her past lover to find a smug smirk across the woman’s face. Oh, to have sweet Death on their knees for you. To will them into submission and gaze upon their absolute beauty. Her hand came to the back of Rio’s head, long fingers coming to guide her mouth closer, legs parting a little wider still. Rio’s breath hitched as she leaned in, permitting Agatha's hand to lead her. The reaper’s arms coming to wrap firmly around Agatha's hips and ass, with the fabric of her skirt held back in place.

A soft kiss to her clit at first before allowing her tongue to circle over it, causing Agatha to gasp. She tasted just as divine as Rio remembered. Just as sweet, with the slightest hint of sweat. Salty in all the right places, delectable. Her soft folds were absolutely wet - dripping - glistening throughout the tousle of brown hair that covered them. She traced her tongue up the slit of her and moaned, feeling Agatha’s desire all over her mouth and chin as the witch pulled her in even closer.

“Mmm-” Agatha moaned, “Rio-”

The intoxicating sound of Death’s name falling from Agatha's lips had her almost at a frenzy. Her fingernails digging into Agatha’s backside as she elongated her tongue deeply into her core. Her mouth warm - inviting - stroking that burning fire inside of Agatha higher and higher.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby.”

Long fingers tangled into a mess of dark hair, hips grinding upwards. The witch's needy moans ringing out into the night like a ballad of lust. Of need. Of the absolute desire to have no one else but Rio.

“Don't.. don't stop.”

But Death.

But life.

The humming of it vibrating within her as she rode the reaper’s face.

As if Rio had any intentions to do so, in fact she only persisted. Mercilessly and with fervor. As her tongue alternated between thrusting deep inside Agatha's core and circling over her clit. Deep, long licks up and down her opening, subtle sucks across her clit. Death showed no mercy as she lapped up the witch’s essence.

A tiny buck to Agatha’s hips and a clench to her walls and Rio pulled her even closer, forcing the length of her tongue as deep inside of her as she could go.

“F-uck-”

Agatha’s body jerked forward as her hold on Rio's hair tightened. Her hips now frantic - desperate - grinding into the woman’s face with absolute need. Rio flattened her tongue against Agatha's clit and rocked her head to the movement with the witch's hips. A few long strokes of her tongue and Agatha screamed out, her body suddenly overcome with a prickling heat. It was feverish. All enveloping. With her eyes whitened over in fireworks and her whole body convulsing.

The orgasm that took her over was violent in nature. It was raw and unhindered. It stole the stars straight from the night sky and injected them directly into Agatha’s very being. Her legs trembled while Rio held her close, her tongue only stopping once the last drop of Agatha’s arousal finally dripped into her mouth.

“Mmmm.” The reaper hummed, “Someone needed that.”

Even with the waves of aftershock still rolling throughout her body, Agatha's hand came firmly around Rio's throat as she pulled the dark haired woman to her feet. The look of surprise on Rio's face was quickly replaced with softness as Agatha’s lips pressed warmly into hers. Kissing her as if she were the last woman on Earth. The only woman. And to Agatha, she was. Their bodies a tangled mess, kissing each other with such ferocity that the whole world around them threatened to break. And when their lips finally parted, with the witch’s scent now adorning both of their faces, Agatha rested her forehead against Rio’s and sighed.

“Sometimes I wish it could always be like this.” She whispered.

“It can-”

Agatha placed a single finger against the reaper's lips and shook her head, the glisten of unspent tears in her eyes.

“You know it can't.”

“We could try.”

“We have.”

Rio sighed and leaned back into her past lover’s arms, head heavy. She knew Agatha was right. That these rare moments were like passing galaxies in the universe of life, but it still broke what little heart she had left to admit it. She sniffled once before clearing her throat, hugging the witch a final time before completely pulling back.

“So, uh.. what was so important that you had to resort to grave robbery again?” She asked, straightening out her clothes and hair as she wiped away a few tears of her own.

Agatha snorted and lowered her skirt. “It's not that important.”

“Bullshit. Just tell me.”

The witch bit her bottom lip in consideration before shrugging.

“A talisman. One that Cynthia coveted her entire life.”

“Okay. And what does this talisman do?”

Agatha’s gaze shifted around the quiet cemetery, the promise of dusk now painting the skyline. Her fingers fidgeted, knowing she had no other options than to tell her. She exhaled.

“Spectral reawakening.”

Rio’s dark eyes studied for her a minute, her finger coming to tap at her chin.

“I see.”

“It won't upset your precious balance of life, if that's what you're worried about.” The witch scoffed. “Only grants a day with the spectral form of a.. lost loved one.”

Rio knew immediately who Agatha intended to use the talisman on, and again, her heart ached.

“And you're planning to bring back Nicky, I presume?”

Agatha only nodded, her eyes growing desperate.

“I need to see him, Rio. I need to tell him-” She took a deep breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I need him to know how sorry I am.”

Rio knew all too well the grief that Agatha had felt over losing their son. And she knew she was partly to blame. Even if she gave the two as much time as she possibly could, she still couldn't help but feel responsible. She swallowed deep before nodding.

“Alright, then.” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Let's go get you that talisman.”

“Wait, what-?”

Before Agatha could even finish Rio was walking back over to the dug up grave, the slick marble casket peeking out from underneath the dirt. She looked back and gave Agatha a single wink before turning back around. With a simple blast of green and black magic the casket cracked open, the scent of death becoming ever more prevalent in the air.

Agatha came to stand beside her past lover, eyes wide.

“Rio.. what? Why?”

The dark haired woman turned and took the witch’s hand in hers.

“Just tell Nicky I said hello, yeah?”

Those were the last words she uttered before Death disappeared into the night, leaving Agatha with nothing but a cold graveyard to comfort her and the everlasting gift of getting to see her beloved Nicky again.

[yiiiiiiiikes25]

been cogitating on this for a minute. i'm irked by my own bottomless appetite for validation, but am deeply, deeply turned off by--like, experience visceral disgust and anxiety about--the notion that any praise i get could be pro forma or unearned. the idea that a reader owes an author anything at all makes me fucking itch. on the other hand--

i don't think this is a universal truth and i don't know how @gallusrostromegalus (sorry you're out here catching strays) intended this term, but "social recognition euphoria" is a useful one, imo. here's how i think of it--

that's social recognition euphoria, or it's how i use the term: something about who i am and something about who you are led us to this strip of sidewalk, where we recognized each other. what a fucking joy, or per @kamaela, magic. hats here could be same appetites, same characterizations, same aesthetics, same perversions, same...whatever you've got. i jumped fandoms because i same-hatted so hard with @garagepaperback on the basis of her lateral mind for language and the ambition in her writing.

it's sour, to me, that we call stats 'engagement,' especially kudos. @eleadore's callout re: conflation of attention and community is completely on the money, but i want to go a step further--let's picture kudos as a little public 'cool hat' tally. 'cool hat,' though, isn't necessarily 'same hat.' 'cool hat' is transactional, quantitative instead of qualitative, flattening--and perfectly nice, as long as you don't then wander the neighborhood checking out everybody else's tally. i think a lot of us do, myself included, and that is a bummer. (i'm personally curious whether kudos have a homogenizing effect on the kind of stuff we all make as we respond to the natural impulse to craft popular hats.)

so, the attention/community divide: inasmuch as i have a point here (do i?), what i think a lot of us are hungry for is a fuckin' hat discussion. the degree to which community nourishes us, the factor that makes it durable and personal and meaningful, hinges on the depth and specificity of recognition communicated in the "same hat" moment we're offered. it is fundamentally qualitative, not quantitative. it nourishes in a way a kudos count can't and shouldn't. it's why, for instance, a cheerleader-librarian like @kamaela or @sitp-recs ends up being glue for community, absolutely vital connective tissue.

to be clear, we aren't owed this nourishment--nobody asked us for these fucking hats, dude--but we are for sure going for a lot of walks in interesting headgear, or to ape @garagepaperback's metaphor, leaving a lot of signed hat piles lying around in a public hat archive. if the social recognition euphoria didn't mean anything to us i'd bet we'd largely keep our hats in our houses. if we're counting the social recognition euphoria we've lost our way a little bit, because it's not a countable thing.

i think what many of us aren't saying is that we hope, in a secret and shameful way, that our stats will function as tangible social proof: we wear the hat everyone likes best, and we made it ourselves. our hat is exceptional. we are exceptional. this is a bummer of a hope; regardless, we lay our hat carefully in the public hat archive; we check, privately and obsessively, as we let go of the idea that our hat will be the one hat to rule them all, whether our hat is even as good as everyone else's. what an exceptionally lonely thing. i'd like to do less of it.

not for nothing, in the course of developing co-writing and editing relationships, my crew's come up with a phrase for the deepest form of same-hatting: 'wet brain,' as in pressing our wet brains together, as though these same-hat boys took off their hats and then their hair and scalps and skulls and sat together to create. i would imagine that there are huge appetites for structures and practices in fandom that make that kind of intimacy, that heroin-shot of social recognition euphoria, easier for newcomers to find.

re - your last post, as a writer i find that to be an absurd take. people who write exclusively for validation probably shouldn't. if discovering your work is enjoyed and loved - just privately - is a dealbreaker for you, i think there are probably bigger issues that need to be worked through. the idea that we write fic for free and yet this discussion about "payment" through kudos/comments persists is so backwards and obnoxious.

sorry to tag you on this, obv you have nothing to do with op, but i just wanted to say - as a writer recs are a HUGE deal. to know that you liked something enough to share it with others is the biggest compliment for me personally. thanks for doing what you do.

I’m happy you reached out because this is a really interesting perspective. I definitely see increased messaging around comments = payment that pressures readers into thinking they are required to leave comments, and I agree that there are many layers in this convo that point out to a not-so-healthy relationship with fandom.

I find it hard to join this discussion not being an author myself, because I only have the privileged perspective. Ofc I understand how important feedback can be to boost newcomers and those who don’t feel part of the community. We all deal with insecurity in different ways and it’s hard to navigate a big fandom when you don’t have a group of friends to rely on. In the end the fandom experience is about a sense of belonging and it saddens me to realize that I might be part of the problem since my recs only reach Tumblr and my ao3 comments are far and few in between.

It’s funny because my blog has always targeted other readers: at the beginning I didn’t even tag authors and did not expect them to find or engage with my posts. Over the years the recs became more and more personal, until I realized I was writing them for myself. Sure, they are love letters to the fic and might help more people find them, but at the end of the day this is my little therapy corner where I can let go and babble around to my heart’s content 🙏🏼 I’ve always been proud of this blog and seeing that post gave me mixed feelings about it for the first time, so thank you for your message!

Again, I think this discussion has many layers and I’m a bit wary to get involved being a humble reader, but I’d be curious to see how others feel about it…

[myersesque]

ok. so. viktor is my favourite character in arcane. i am also physically disabled and hate the Magical Miracle Eugenics Disability Cure trope with a fiery passion. naturally i have a lot of opinions about where his character is going, but for now, here's a relatively simple one:

internalised ableism has always been part of viktor's character. he describes himself as "a poor cripple from the undercity" (yes, quoting how other people speak about him, but still); he shies away from the spotlight even when jayce encourages him; as a child, he directly acknowledges his disability as the reason other children don't associate with him.

i watched a video essay recently ("how arcane writes men" by schnee) that identified viktor's tendency to just suck it up and push through his problems rather than dwelling on them as a stereotypically masculine trait, which he is written to both subvert and lean into. whilst i agree with that to some extent, i think for viktor specifically it's more of an insight into a very common mindset for disabled people to have; a lot of us do not want to be pitied, and understand that acknowledging our hardships will often unfortunately lead to being treated as attention seeking. he doesn't dwell on things because he can't, unless he wants to be looked down on more than he already is; he's already had to fight to even be acknowledged as more than somebody's assistant, or respected as a zaunite living and working in piltover. i can't imagine he's keen to show any further "weakness"; he only ever cries when he's alone. it makes sense that he'd want to save himself rather than relying on anybody else.

the dangerous thought process of "fixing" people with the hexcore begins with that desire to save himself. at first he's just trying to stop his illness from killing him, but then he progresses to carving runes into his leg, seemingly in the interest of fixing his limp - which works, albeit temporarily. he seems aware enough of the implications of what he's doing to be somewhat ashamed of it (or, at the very least, enough to hide it from jayce). i've seen a lot of (mostly able bodied) people interpret the scene of him running down the pier as victorious, but it always felt bittersweet and scary to me; the dark, painful fantasy of "fixing" the thing the world has always looked down on you for, and the unsettling knowledge that you were never supposed to exist that way. a man experiencing a moment of joy only when he has detached himself from a core aspect of his being; self hatred disguised as progress. he only seems to register the horror of what he's doing when it kills sky.

it's not a leap to say that, with the hexcore dulling his emotions and blurring the lines of his ethical code, he would turn this externally. self loathing so insidious that he mistakes it for kindness and mercy and points the blade of it at the people he swore he'd help. before merging with the hexcore, he was desperate to destroy it and rid himself of its influence, hindered only by his physical inability to do so; under its control, he's seemingly lost all those inhibitions, wiped clean of his understanding of its danger. no longer "clouded by emotion", no longer human enough to know better, no longer suspicious of the arcane.

what viktor becomes in season 2 is, i believe, a hellish mix of his own internalised ableism and the hexcore's desperation to spread and survive. his genuine desire to help people has been warped into stripping people of their individualism, forcing them into some predetermined ideal in the name of healing (very "the empty child" from doctor who). it's his own character flaws mixed with the inhuman apathy of the hexcore. the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and also dressed up so nicely that you don't even realise you're headed downwards.

this is not what viktor stood for, but rather a perversion of his own insecurities, with a fresh coat of hexcore paint to stop him (or his followers) from scrutinising it too closely. they took the guy who dedicated his life to bettering humanity, and warped him into something doomed to destroy it.

(or something like that. idk. i haven't slept.)

[oswhys]

So, when I played Lucanis’s questline for the first time, I genuinely thought that Illario was going to turn out to also be possessed. I like to try to come up with theories if there's some kind of mystery involved. Obviously, Illario is suspicious from the get-go but if you want to give him the benefit of the doubt you can, after all, grief really does make people act strangely, but not usually immediately after the death. But when he shows up after the defeat of Zara and kills her just as she says “Amatus” upon seeing him there's no doubt he was in cahoots with her. But then something interesting happens, he uses blood magic, some enchanted pin. He still keeps up the act of innocence though. We get further confirmation during the questioning of Zara’s corpse that the two were extremely close, at least from her perspective. But then we get a strange little tidbit from the memories of Lucanis later in his quest line when you're with spite. Lucanis has a memory or maybe it's some warped memory of Zara talking about the cultivation of an Envy demon. 

Zara’s project was to cultivate and bind different types of demons more easily through new techniques. Zara was talented enough to be able to put a demon inside of a non-mage subject, something that shouldn't be possible in the first place, or at least unheard of. She also wanted to cultivate certain types of demons, ones that are more rare and possibly harder to bind. We see the results of most of her test subjects, either walking corpses or bound demons. Let's say she agrees to take Lucanis to be a test subject, thinking the whole thing would just kill him and the terms of her deal with Illario would be met. Let's say shes surprised Lucanis is even able to merge with spite, let alone survive well afterward. Now let's say this gets her thinking, can she replicate this? Can she put demons and spirits into non-mages? Was this a freak accident?

I know I’m speculating a lot here but hang with me. Now I don't know if her scheme is to take advantage of Illarios jealousy and use it to create an envy demon, something rare and hard to bind, but it would naturally be attracted to that much envy in a person. Or maybe it's presented as an opportunity later down the line, that Illario could become an abomination and gain as much power as one, being able to tap into magic even if not in full control would still give him an edge. I don't know, I just think there was a bit more to the story that we don't know about, aside from what we’ve seen in some of the concept art. Which shows something akin to Illario being manipulated by either Zara or some kind of desire demon or??? Just someone in a pool of blood, with horns? But pieces of these ideas got left behind in the game. Fragments of something larger and it drives me up the wall. 

There's an obvious romantic connection between Illario and Zara that is never elaborated upon in conversation, It is a deeply interesting tidbit of information and nothing is done with it. Then there's Zara’s line in Lucanis’ memories of her saying that the conditions of cultivating an envy demon must be perfect (the line that sent me through this spiral). And then there is Lucanis’ log book. His 5th one if you don't save Treviso shares a reading list of books and he writes some notes with his thoughts about each. He says that Spite “trusts nothing to do with envy demons” which to be fair to spite, is reasonable they're… creepy, and envy as an emotion is a huge liar sometimes. 

There's just something there. Obviously, the story got cut up and changed with time but there was a time when I started to think that the reason Illario is so suspicious is that he's a red herring, or he's a patsy, or not in control of himself or being manipulated or SOMETHING. But no he's just… kinda stupid. He locked up his grandmother and kept her alive? IS HE STUPID?

Anyway, I just like the idea of some grander conspiracy or grander narrative and that maybe Illario wasn't all to blame for everything or that he was, and he was actually even more villainous. Being controlled by his own jealousy to the point of madness blah blah blah you see why I’m thinking about this so much now yeah?