#For Duma's anger and madness

[randomnameless]

I might have missed it, but is there anything in that timeline book or the game that frames Duma destroying Thabes as bad? "He destroyed it because he feared humans in Thabes were growing too powerful" seems like a pretty neutral and vague statement to me, being just as easy to interpret positively as it could be negatively.

Iirc Naga was so pissed at him for doing this that she kicked him out (and lost some tooth in the process)

Duma's resentment at having been exiled is the reason why he built the tower, and it's also the reason why he started to value strength.

Naga seems to have a pretty hands off approach regarding humans (in Jugdral she gives weapons to humans but asks dragons to not interfere ? And Forseti doesn't listen ?) which has its merits, no midget can accuse her of controlling the world in the shadows if she doesn't participate in human affairs she only does so when other dragons are involved and when Humans cannot win, but also its defaults, dragons exist in the world, if they cannot interfere with humans, are they still living or bound to live in isolation (Tiki ?), only to pop up when humans fuck up too much ?

In Jugdral, without Forseti's intervention, Julia most likely would have died when Deedee warped her "somewhere" and the continent would have been a second Loptyr Empire.

And yet, Valentia and Fodlan taught us what happens to dragons who live and help periodically humans : they're used as scapegoats for everything.

Back to Duma, the supplementary materials are busy retconning Rudy to make him the chadest Emperor who ever Emporered and refuse to commit on Grima being the reason why Duma attacked Thabes... Even if they remind us he's called the Kingshield !

[aro-pancake-writes]

I finished it!

(almost) everything I wanted to say to Lillian. It's finally done!

Happening during Matters of the Hart, so some mild spoilers for it.

Tw: violence, deadnaming, language.

Truths to the Heart

"We don't have time to ask for backup." Lillian says, and Charlie gets up from their seat in a rage.

From the first time Sam told them about her, Charlie knew they wouldn't like her, but they put up their good face and deflect the subject.

But this is the end of their patience for that woman.

Cora stands at the door to the bridge, ready to butt in on Sam and Lillian's argument. Charlie sees her, and goes straight to her.

"Here kiddo, take this, go to my quarters and close the doors." They give her a music player and send her off. There's no argument as she understands that things are about to get ugly here.

They wait for the door to the bridge to close before stepping between Sam and Lillian.

"Enough." Charlie says, pushing Lillian away from Sam. "You, shut your hypocrite hole." They point at Lillian, anger stewing in their voice. "Sam, darling," they turn to him, calm and with a gentle smile, "I love you, and please don't be mad at me."

He looks at them confused for a second, as Charlie turns back to Lillian.

"Lils, dearest," they make their best overly sweet voice and put on a large smile, "don't you fucking dare to say shit."

"What do you know?" She scowls at them, crossing her arms ready for a fight. "And you can't call me that."

"It's my ship. I'll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you." It's becoming harder to maintain the smile. "If you want to not call backup, as per your own sayings, we'll drop Cora by at New Atlantis."

"We don't have the time! The Syndicate will–" Charlie cuts her off by raising a finger, smile dying as they stand up taller.

"Then you won't ever again bother us for taking Cora along. You won't ever again say anything about her tagging along. Ever." Lillian opens and closes her mouth like a fish. "You'll shut up until I drop you off back on Neon, so you can try to gaslight and bullshit your way out of any future trouble you get yourself into, but not in my ship."

"Who are you to say anything about how I parent? Do you have any ideas of the sacrifices I've made for her?" Charlie laughs. A good hearty laugh, like Lillian just told them the funniest joke ever.

"Sacrifices? Parenting?" They manage to say between laughs. "You don't know the meaning of the words."

"I was called out for reading Dumas by my colleagues, for heaven's sake." She tries, and Charlie manages to stop laughing.

"A sacrifice is stopping my own deep cover work to get rid of the Crimson Fleet to come and save your ass from the small fry, because Cora asked me to." They say, taking a step towards her. "A sacrifice is having you here because Cora was worried about you. I've been with her for less than a month, and I've been her parent more than you ever bothered to be in twelve years." There's a snarl, and Lillian looks terrified.

"Charlie, please, that's enough." Sam places a hand on their shoulder, making them stop. "She heard enough."

"No." Lillian says, bearing that cocky smile that Charlie wants to punch out of her face. "Let's hear what your new sweetheart has to say, Sammy."

How much more shit can come out of one person's mouth?

"What about the fact that you claim to want a professional distance from your coworkers, to the point where Jaylen doesn't know your daughter's name, but he knows everything about me and my accomplishments, that were sent to you by Cora?" They remember the way Sam was treated at the Neon Ranger post.

"What are you talking about? I talk plenty about my kid!" She tries, but Charlie ain't buying. "And so what I mentioned the stranger my daughter seems to like more than me? It's embarrassing!"

"EMBARRASSING?" Charlie shouts, anger taking over their senses. "Embarrassing is claiming you put your neck out to save someone, but doing it for your own selfish purposes. Is bailing on your daughter every time she tries to see you and then complaining that she likes someone else, who is actually there for her, better than you."

Lillian jumps at Charlie, going for a hit on their stomach. They manage to dodge and she slips, but doesn't fall.

"You just got here, Charlotte!" She screams, turning to come back at Charlie and hitting a punch to their face. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I know what is going on." They smile, ignoring the blatant use of their given name and cleaning out blood from their nose. "Your priorities are anywhere but where they actually should be." Lillian turns for another punch, and Charlie lets her hit. "You're scared of accepting that you fucked up, so you hide behind your work!"

The third punch has them falling on their butt. Lillian jumps at the opportunity to sit on their waist and hold them down.

Sam's frozen in the back, unsure if he should try to remove Lillian from Charlie and draw the fire to himself or let Charlie deal with the situation, as he's well aware that they can. No one calls them “Charlotte” and gets away unpunished. Be it ignoring Walter until he uses Charlie, or leaving a good bruise if the person still insists on the name. But Lillian using the name makes him worry. They're already throwing fists. And Lillian's use was deliberate. With the intent of insulting and hurting them.

Charlie lets Lillian punch them, barely defending themselves. It's almost like they want the punishment for everything they're saying.

"You know that you lost Sam the moment Cora was born." Charlie continues, despite Lillian's barrage at them. "You lost your hold on him. The idea of love that you gave him. And now, that he's moving on, that someone else wants what you didn't want, you're angry. Because if you can't have him, no one can." They had enough of her, so they activate their powers, canceling gravity where they stand.

They watch as Lillian floats helplessly, while they're still grounded.

"How in the blazes–" the effect ends before she can finish her question, and she falls flat on the floor.

"Lillian, leave. Go find something else to do." Sam says, helping Charlie to their chair. He's cold, holding his own anger back. Lillian may have been offended, but it still didn't justify her attack on Charlie.

"I'm not leaving until we get to the Syndicate hideout." Lillian gets up, cleaning her jacket and standing there as if she didn't just beat someone up.

"Leave us alone." He says again, and she finally gets the message, grumbling all the way out of the bridge.

"It looks worse than it is." Sam kneels before Charlie, picking up a first aid kit and making them look up so he can see the injuries. There'll be some light bruising, but nothing a medpack can't fix. "But you didn't have to push that much, Charlie. Not if it ends up with you getting hurt like this."

"I had to." They say, licking at where their lip broke and a drop of blood spills out. "I couldn't stand the way she talked to you. Or how she thinks that the minimum effort is a massive sacrifice. For you and Cora."

"And that last thing you said?" He offers them a light smile. "You want me?"

Charlie looks everywhere but at him. If their face wasn't hurting so much, they'd probably be all smiles and blushes.

"Only if you want to try." Too late to not tell the truth. "I've been interested since we got that Artifact."

"Charlie," he takes a deep breath, cleaning a bad wound on their temple and adding a bandage, "why didn't you say anything before?"

They can't hold back the tears, not anymore. It's been something that they kept bubbling up since Akila.

"Because you only ever talked about her." Charlie gathers the courage and looks at his eyes. "I was there, flirting, trying to hide away that it bothered me. And every other word you said was about her. Praising her at every turn. I said it the first time that I was jealous, and it was true." They take his hand, making him stop.

"She's a good–"

"A good ranger, I know." Charlie tries to remain calm. "But she's an awful person, Sam. I'm not changing my mind on that. You said it yourself that she dismissed you, your feelings. And now that we're getting close, that I'm close to Cora, she wants back in. Even if not… romantically, if you don't feel the same way I do." That last part hurts, but it has to be said.

"I'll put an end to it, for good." He leans closer to them, cupping their face with his calloused hands. Charlie wants to feel safe, confident in his promise. "No more talking of Lillian. We'll finish this, get rid of her, and we can talk, ok?"

They nod lightly, taking a medpack that he offers them to get rid of the worse of the bruising.

Maybe, Charlie thinks, there's still hope for them to be together.

[blmed]

LIEBLING, durch jenes übermaß von nacht getrennt ⸺ trigger warnings: miscarriage, post partum depression.

anaïs dumas, dearest lover, we met through colleagues we barely knew from a party; i barely remembered what did he say because you caught my attention from the start. you were standing there, full of hope &. dreams; your eyes were twinkling from the desire to live, which is the only thing i was lacking upon .. i have been through thousands of eyes, oceans of souls passing through my life as if they were shadows at the back of my eyes .. but you were shining, scintillating, because you wanted to live.

liebling, my dearest beloved, you told me about your dreams, your desire to become somebody else on the picture as someone's story carries you to give a life to an inanimate figure; you told me that you want to be yourself, &. become everybody &. everyone––––––something that i was so accustomed &. it gave me a piece of mind; because i didn't have to pretend that i was somebody, even though you thought of me as somebody. you wanted security, a life you didn't have because your family had taught you from the beginning .. you couldn't escape your family; your heritage; your self; &. i didn't mind .. i didn't need to adjust, i was simply becoming.

liebling, my dearest treasure, you told me that you wanted to belong to yourself, whist i wanted to have you for myself .. perhaps i did, or perhaps i didn't. i did love you too much to think nobody should have you, &. i was that nobody too. you did tell me that we should see somebody else whilst still being married because we completely understands each other; what we wanted, what we desired; great affection, as you told me, but that wasn't love as people would say, but it was ours after all.

liebling, my dearest flame, you told me that you were eating for two &. you didn't tell me who the father was. at the beginning, i was angry, upset, &. mad ... how could you be so careless? how could you let somebody to have you, whilst you wanted to belong to yourself? but then again, it wasn't your fault. you didn't want it to happen, but you did want it. something that you could say as yours, as you carry it with your body; as you carried it inside of you; it was yours, &. i imagined myself to be a father––––––&. i was happy, the child wouldn't carry my anger or agony; it would carry your desire to live.

liebling, my dearest sun to the moon, you didn't eat for several days, you didn't sleep for weeks; you didn't live for awhile. it did scare me, it did mortify me. how can a person that was full of life had become so lifeless as i was? you became the shell of past self, someone i didn't know; someone i didn't think i could fall in love with because you were me, &. i were you. i tried to help you, i tried to make you become alive again; but i had never been so alive before, &. without you––––––i couldn't help you &. you couldn't help yourself. we became each other, &. we couldn't become ourselves again.

liebling, my dearest life, you told me that you had become alive again because you met somebody else. i didn't mind at the beginning because i could see that you were happy again; you had become yourself once again. but then again, you were happy because you had come to life by someone else's touch; their love is the kind that makes demands; their love is the kind that makes someone belongs to someone than somebody; the kind of love that we agreed is something we didn't want. but you did want that love, the one that makes you feel belong than become yourself. i did feel betrayed, because you were betraying yourself, but then again, you did feel alive once again .. perhaps that's the true you––––––the person i didn't know, &. won't know because you didn't allow me to get acquainted with her.

liebling, my dearest moth to my flame, you did fly away because you were getting burnt from me .. you did like the fire i had within, but it slowly killed you because i was burning you. i had to let you go, because i knew that you did need me but you didn't want to die because of me. i had to let you go because you were so full of life, &. i was full of death. i did love you, or i do love you; i am not sure now. perhaps i was infatuated by you because you were alive, &. i wanted to taste the life; i was flame that seeks for eternity, but i know i will be extinguished eventually.

liebling, my dearest star in the sky, you did become somebody; someone i didn't know in the silver screen .. you finally become somebody &. i am happy for you, because you have brought life to characters that you can call as yours.

[fayesdiary]

Aye what if in your Berkut AU Fernand still leaves Clive due to creative differences ™️ but instead of defecting to Rigel he’s recruited by Jedah to help “purge the blemish of weakness from Zofia” and as a result he starts to spread Duma’s influence past Rigelian boarders?

Jedah would probably feed him some tasty bits about how Mila’s nurturing made the commoners complacent , allowing them to relish in her bounty until they couldn’t care for themselves. When it was taken away they directed their anger towards the strong upper-class, killing his loved ones in the process. It gives him motivation to serve Duma and keeps his classism on brand. He could then either be killed by the Ram folks or recruited by Rinea, your call!

I wasn't sure about Fernand working for Jedah, but after thinking about it for a while I like it! But maybe instead of Jedah trying to convince him by purging the weak (especially since in canon Fernand calls Duma's power hideous in that scene where Berkut breaks Nuibaba's mirror) he would be like "you know what, you're right. There are structures of power that must be enforced for the world to function, like nobles and commoners... or gods and mankind" and points the reason why Zofia and Rigel are falling to ruin because of the gods' fall into madness and Mila's absence (conveniently leaving out the fact he's the one who kidnapped Mila to blackmail Celica. But even if Fernand finds out, he would just say something like "See? As soon as Mila left Zofia the kingdom fell to disgrace!"). And it wouldn't even be Jedah lying on purpose, because I'd love to have him as less of a card-carrying villain and more like someone believing their own lies and doing everything he can to maintain the gods' rule, because he genuinely believes Valentia can't survive without them. So basically, canon Jedah without the sadism and evil laughter. I feel it would be a great foil to both Rudolf (Santa Claus does overly complicated and cruel stuff to destroy the status quo while Jedah does the same to maintain it) and Celica. Fernand could work for the Duma Faithful (maybe have him be in Celica's route instead? Eh, it's full of swamps there and cavaliers suck, but I dunno), but slowly starts seeing how far the Faithful are willing to go and what atrocities they commit to preserve Duma's rule and starts realizing he made a terrible mistake! Not yet sure what I want to do with him after that, though.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

When Alm stops everyone because he hears someone approaching in the depths of the Temple of Duma, I was really hoping it would be Saber and the rest of Celica’s crew...

...it was not.

And then he collapses and tells us that Duma is mad, Berkut is mad, and also he himself was an idiot who always took his anger out on other people who didn’t deserve it and with that one realization that he was a shitheel he’s allowed to die in Clive’s arms and be mourned by the Deliverance.

And such is the capstone on Clive and Fernand’s messy stupid breakup.

[kingshield]

"I know you mean well." Mila to Duma >)

shitty horoscopes | accepting. ( @of-invisible-ties )

"— then why do you try to stop me?!"

rarely does he let his heart take hold of his tongue. he steps back from her as soon as he hears the rage laced in his voice, a product of inaction, of frustration, of vague fear. he knows she is only trying to help, to stem his want to act rashly on this matter, and this matter alone. he knows. he knows.

they are far from prying eyes and ears here, deep within the divine dragon paradise, and it is here they argue once more over what to do. he swears he's heard the same words leave his mouth in previous debates, and each time, he had given in to his sister's plea to not do anything without naga's permission. he had pushed back each time, though knew full well as her elder brother, he could simply ignore any and all appeal to his sensibility.

he couldn't, however hard he tried. such is the conceding love of an older sibling to their younger, to fold under the weight of making her happy, at least for the moment.

( making her happy would not even be a thought later, when the two come to blows upon a distant continent. in the beginning throes of what he would later realize was his own madness, there was an underlying, permeating need to make her give in this time, to force her to listen to him. )

the kingshield is not a man of rashness. he values careful calculation, and is a deliberate and fastidious commander. it was the very reason naga had ascended him to his position. perhaps he was losing his touch, with how he wanted to throw caution to the wind and level the city, consequences be damned.

"our king cares for them far too much to intervene. she will not approve this campaign, but there is something down there that reeks of unholiness. it smells of divine dragon blood, but is not one of us, and i know you sense it as well, mila!"

just speaking of it makes an indescribable anger well in the back of his throat, and draws a snarl from his lips, fangs bared. there had been no mistaking it, when he'd left their paradise and gone down to the city. something had tugged him down there, an aching of sorrow that didn't cease— and he was now both glad and troubled that it had.

you must sense it too, his eyes plead to her in a rare moment where his guard is down. tell me i am not wrong here. tell me that you know something is unjust in how we stand idly by.

"... you know i care for them as well, and you know i would not be so resolute in my actions were there a shred of doubt for the sins they enact in my heart. but i am not so blind in my love that i forget to reprimand them. naga is. they defile the lost and use the blood of one of our brethren, with no punishment. we give them our grace, and teach them how to prosper and build their city, and desecration is how they repay us."

he has already made up his mind. there is nothing mila, naga, or any other divine dragon can do to stop him.

"these humans trifle with things they never should have touched, sister, and grow too strong in their boldness. i will not go to naga and petition a useless argument against her— i will raze thabes myself."

[alleiradayne]

Another Fool

Summary: Conflicted, Castiel is finally honest with Alleira Square Filled: Enemies to Lovers Warnings/Tags: Fluff, lots of angst, enemies to lovers, smut, hate-fucking, vaginal sex, bodily fluids, probably a lot of inaccurate angel/vessel urge conflicts, but maybe ignore that? Characters/Pairings: Castiel/Alleira (OC Angel) Word Count: 2,859 A/N: For @spnkinkbingo this fills the Enemies to Lovers square. And as always, thank you @atc74 for your wonderful beta’ing. Song: Another Fool by Louden Swain

Fear. Though Castiel was an angel, he was no stranger to the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. That familiar sense of dread had crawled up and down his spine as he strode through the halls of heaven for the portal.

He had begged for more time, for a chance to go find her and bring her back. To set things right. To do what he should have done years ago. And Chuck had let him.

As Castiel stepped through the portal, the list of places he might find her ran through his mind. But no sooner than he passed through the pearlescent mist did he spot Alleira sitting on the playground bench.

The sight of her in her grey skirt, white blouse, and white shoes broke his heart. Had she changed from her typical floral dresses thinking she might better appeal to the council? If so, he hoped it worked. For both their sakes.

He stepped from the sandbox and crossed the grass between them. If she had noticed him, she showed no sign, her wide blue eyes staring straight ahead. He had stared into those eyes so many times over the centuries. As he neared her, he did so again as he towered over her and allowed himself a single selfish moment.

Her gaze slid to his with a long, slow blink, and Castiel drank her in, despite her drab attire. Nothing dulled her spirit, her fiery essence that shone despite her vessel. No. Because of her vessel. Her true form befit her rank, but her vessel? Long legs and strawberry blonde hair had done things for him. Things he thought only one other human could do.

Best not to think of that in public. Humans, Castiel had learned, had difficulty containing their primal desires. At least, his vessel did. Good thing, then, that Alleira spoke in his stead, lest his imagination run wild.

“I thought I could do better. I thought…” she hesitated. “I thought I could be better.”

Castiel simply stared. He had to resist his urges. “No one is better than him.”

“I know that,” she muttered, and his heart twisted in his chest. “You’d think an angel wouldn’t have to learn so much the hard way. I’m so sorry, Castiel.”

How was he supposed to respond to that? “I know you’re sorry—”

“No, I’m… I’m not sure you do know,” she interrupted. “I ruined our friendship. We used to be close. Now whenever I look at you, I see only disdain in your eyes.”

Castiel shook his head as he sat beside her. “I… Alleira, I do not disdain you. I am disappointed. In myself more than you.” His thoughts scrambled for some way to help her understand exactly how he felt. But did he even understand? Did he even comprehend the conflict that threatened to tear him apart? Against his better judgement, he took her hand in his. “I should have been there for you. I should have listened. I thought you were complaining like… like the rest of us have been. But I never thought you would actually do something about it. I never thought you would go as far as Naomi or Duma or…”

Weighted silence filled the space between them as Castiel hesitated. He chanced a careful look to Alleira when she remained silent. Her distant blue gaze stared straight ahead, unseeing, as her lips parted, and she spoke.  “Or you?”

The knot in his throat tightened. “Or me. I truly did not think you had grown that… disenchanted. Your empathy is rivaled by only one human. I thought that would keep you centered.” He paused again with a frown. “I understand you did what you thought you had to do but that does not change the fact that the things you did were… reprehensible, to say the least. I need to take you back.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she finally turned to him. “Castiel, please stay with me. I don't want to do this alone.”

The break in her voice nearly ripped his heart from his chest. “You don’t have a choice,” he started, “but I’ll be here when it’s over.”

She smiled her small smile, a curl at the corners of her bright red lips as tears streamed down her cheeks. “You would wait for me?”

How did she not know? “Alleira,” he sighed, “I would wait for you for a thousand years. And a thousand years again. I would wait for you to find whatever it is for which you’ve been searching.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” she sighed as she wiped at her cheeks. “I thought that if I could make more angels, our father would be happy. He would appreciate my work. And all I've ever wanted was that. For my work to have meaning. For some sense of dignity in my existence.”

Her gaze fell to her feet as her words faded, and in that crestfallen look, Castiel recognized defeat. He had to say something, anything, to help her understand. “We value your work. Heaven would be a mess without you. We… I find your work fascinating. You should be proud of what you do. I am.”

She shook her head as she spoke. “Castiel, I sit in a lab all day and pick souls apart. How does that help? You… you have an amazing job. You do amazing things.”

“No,” he interrupted, “I've done more harm than good the last few centuries.”

“That's not true,” she insisted as she turned to him. “You've saved the world so many times.”

She would make this difficult. How was he supposed to reconcile all the awful things she had done with the person he knew she was? “I… appreciate that. Although, I think there are a couple of humans you should thank before you thank me.”

“Without you, they would be dead.”

Castiel glared at her. “And because of you, they almost died. Several times.”

Alleira nodded as she held his stare. “That is… very true. I am not proud of all I did,” she clarified. “I hope you know that.”

“I do. But I also know you have to go back. And atonement will not be easy,” Castiel said as he rubbed her long fingers in his large hand. More urges screamed to do more than simply touch. “I wish there was another way.”

Her gaze softened as she pressed closer to him, her thigh against his and a hand slipping so close to his groin as she leaned over his leg, he startled. Damn her and her plush lips and fresh soap and encroaching body. A deep breath leveled his head as he waited for her to speak. She licked her lips—fuck, but he wanted to taste her—and then said, “Why? I've committed many wrongs. I deserve no less.”

“Because I know what awaits you,” Castiel started. “And I care about you. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Least of all my friends. And never the people I love.”

Wide-eyed, Alleira gaped at him. “Which am I?” she breathed, far too close for him to reject. “Who am I to you, Castiel? I’ve never understood where I stood with you. At the very least, I thought we were friends, but I’ve wondered.”

Castiel ground his teeth as he leaned into her, unable to resist any longer. His lips crushed hers as he grasped her hips and hauled her into his lap. Not that she needed any convincing. Alleira straddled his hips as eagerly as he fumbled at his belt. But then they parted as she reared back and said, “Castiel, tell me.”

“I… I’ve wanted this for years,” he sighed as she hiked her skirt up to her hips. “Why aren’t you—”

“I don’t like underwear,” she stated, voice deep in her throat. “And I’ve wanted you this, too. I should have said something years ago. But…”

When she looked over her shoulder at the empty playground, Castiel understand. With a snap of his fingers, they settled on a bed in a small room of a nearby motel.

“Really? This is disgust—”

Castiel stood and dropped her onto the bed. “If you don't want to do this, so say now. We don’t have much time.”

The sight of her splayed on the bed, thighs spread and inviting his hips, and the halo of red-gold hair encircling her face aroused him so painfully, he almost didn’t wait for her response. “I want you, Cas. I want you inside me.”

“Good,” he growled as he tore the zipper of his pants. He wasted no time disrobing, and instead, wrenched his boxers under his sac and withdrew his swollen cock. Precum dribbled from the tip as he stroked himself, and Alleira hummed her pleasure as she stared.

“Impressive vessel,” she mused. “When I get out, we’ll have to spend some time together in heaven.”

“Alleira?”

“Yes, Cas?”

He grasped her by the hip and jerked her to him so hard, she cried out. “Stop talking.”

Her shock encouraged him, and Castiel pressed on. Despite the disgusted, sick sensation spoiling his stomach, his cock twitched at the sound of her pain, at her gaping jaw and wide eyes. When he knelt on the bed, he pinned one of her legs beneath him and lifted the other. A roll of his hips angled his cock to her cunt, and a smooth stroke sheathed him to the hilt.

A long moan lilted on her tongue as Alleira arched her back, angling her hips into him. The perverted writhing of her body under his weight aroused him so, Castiel could hardly contain himself. The urge, the absolute need to thrust into her overwhelmed him to the point of delirium, and he relinquished his control. His hips twitched, withdrawing him from her, then snapped back against her flesh for a resounding slap. Alleira’s vessel responded, her cunt spreading to accommodate his thick cock and dripping with arousal. Everything she did, from her moans to her debauched blasphemes, drove him mad with want. But what he loved most of all was her begging for more, more of him, more, Castiel, fuck me, God, you feel so good inside me, yes, fuck, harder, yes!

Castiel hated himself. In that moment, as the fire of lust boiled the blood of his vessel’s veins, he hated everything he had allowed to happen, everything he had allowed her to do. His anger at her, his raw hatred fueled his desires as he thrust into her, harder and faster and poured his Grace into her. He hated her, too. As much as he loved her, loved feeling her wet heat wrapped around his cock, loved the depravity of it all, he hated her so much, but the base need to fuck her and take his physical pleasure from her outweighed his conflicted feelings. He wanted to get laid, as Dean so often called it. And he was finally getting some from a woman who wanted it as desperately as he.

So why judge? Sure, she’d tried to kill him and his family—more than once—but what’s a little conflict between lovers? Why let that hatred get in the way of enjoying himself? Though they’d had too few minutes, Castiel flung all pretenses of returning her to heaven on time to the wind, uncaring how long they stayed in that motel, and completely disregarding who might snoop on them. If the council wanted to know where they were, Chuck would tell them. He knew. And Castiel couldn’t give any fewer fucks. After Alleira, he didn’t have any left.

“Cas!”

Her cry interrupted his rambling thoughts. “Yes, Alleira?”

“It feels so good,” she moaned, “I… I think I’m… holy shit, I’m…”

He licked the tips of his fingers and pressed them to her swollen clit. “Come, honey, I want to feel it. Come for me.”

The surge of her Grace overpowered his own as Alleira cried out her pleasure. Hard flexes squeezed his cock in throbbing pulses, but Castiel did not slow, did not falter. Oh, it felt amazing, absolutely divine, the pressure, the arousal, the flow of her cum slicking her thighs, his sac. But he wasn’t about to stop just because she finished. He was far from done with her. The pathetic whimpers she sang like an aria, an ode to him and their vessels and their parts—mostly about how big his cock was and how much she loved the pain of it spreading her, pounding her. So Castiel relentlessly thrust into her, the slap of their bodies steady until she begged him to stop.

“I need a minute,” she said as he slowed. “Can you—hey!”

He withdrew from her with a snap of his hips and flipped her to her knees. “I’m not done with you.” He stripped his pants and boxers to his ankles and knelt behind her on the bed. “I’m so far from done with you.”

“Castiel, are you—” her voice clipped short with an indignant squawk as he grasped her hips with rough hands and jerked her to him. “Are you mad at me?”

“I am,” he said as he grabbed his cock and angled it to her cunt once more. “I’m… I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

“I… oh, I get it,” she moaned, “I understand. Do whatever you want to me, I don’t care, everything you do feels so fucking good.”

He penetrated her once more with a hard thrust, hips slapping against her ass. His anger flared as he reached for her throat, clenched in his large grasp, and he hunched over her back as he pulled her ear to his lips. “I will. I’m taking everything I want from you. I’m not letting you go any time soon.”

The long cry that left her mouth transcended any sound of pleasure he had ever heard. Alleira's Grace radiated through him in undulating waves as he rocked his hips into her. God, but she was right. Everything about it felt incredible, and despite his anger, Castiel wanted more, more of her, more of her sex, all of it. He had half a mind to run off with her, but Chuck's boundless wrath would find them eventually and then Castiel would never have her again.

But he had her at that moment, at least. And Chuck knew. So Castiel took all the time he wanted, and over the hours, his anger waned, and his hatred ebbed so that he surrendered to Alleira, to her amenable vessel, so inviting. It had taken most of the night, but when the last of his Grace trickled from his fingertips and into her body, his final orgasm wracked his vessel to his very core. Hard throbs filled Alleira and she moaned another ethereal howl of pleasure in the wake of his release.

He collapsed to the bed first, chest heaving with each gasp for air. Alleira curled in beside him, equally exhausted, but not without her Grace. Her aura cleansed them both like a drawn tidal wave of purifying water. Had they any more time to spare, they might have laid there for a month or two, but given the situation, they had stolen too much time already. And so, Alleira returned them to the park with a snap of her fingers. Before the sandbox they stood in one another's embrace of shadowy wings, silent but for the rustle of wind through the trees.

The words had nearly left his mouth, suspended on the tip of his tongue when the portal hummed to life with its brilliant white light. Sand suspended in the air as billowing white clouds coiled into a tall plume that swirled into the sky high above their heads.

When Castiel regarded her, he did his best to steady his emotions. “It's time, Alleira.”

She remained beside him, her hands still clinging to his. “Will you come with me?”

He turned her to the portal. “I’m not allowed to be at the trial. I’m sorry.”

Alleira nodded as she walked beside him. “I suppose we've had more than enough time together tonight.”

There at the edge of the sandbox they lingered, and Castiel convinced himself that he did so for her. But in his angel heart of hearts, he knew he stalled. Not just for him. But for them both.

“I love you.”

Alleira’s sidelong glare quirked a brow towards her hairline. “I’m guessing you don’t mean that biblically.”

Castiel laughed as he recalled their newly minted memory and gazed across the empty field of the park. Hints of rose and gold teased at the eastern horizon, and he knew it was time. “Maybe. But when I said I’d wait for you, I meant it. When they’re done with you, I’ll be here.”

The smile he knew so well returned to her lips at long last. “Thank you, Castiel. See you soon,” she said as she stepped into the portal.

The clouds twisted and enveloped her in a fog of pearlescent white. Alleira disappeared in a single thump of his racing heart, and Castiel prayed she would come back one day.

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM!

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN KINK BINGO MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

The Whole Thang:

@atc74  @hannahindie @bevans87  @meganwinchester1999  @plaided-ani-on-hiatus  @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox@wonderfulworldofwinchester @princessofthefandomrealm  @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens @81mysteriouslyme @dolphincliffs  @seenashwrite @canadianspnhunter  @meowmeow-motherfucker @depressed-moose-78@staycejo1 @hobby27  @pretty-fortune @mypopculturediva @fanfictionjunkie1112 @sandlee44@4llmywr1tings @claitynroberts @maddiepants @scarletluvscas @donnaintx@blackeyedangel9805 @rainflowermoon @winchesterprincessbride @lazinessisalliknow @the-is13 @waywardafgrandma @keymology @sister-winchesters99 @mrswhozeewhatsis

[iturbide]

O h my goodness feel free to ignore I'd you want but the newest banner h u r t s me. A Corrin who lost herself to her draconian side?? A Tiki who's gone mad, possibly with vengeance??? IS I m-

i love how fallen dragons drop and the first instinct you have is to crash my inbox i feel so loved

so this first ask hit my inbox before I even knew there was a new banner so naturally my first response was “???” and then I ran to Heroes and promptly started screaming because Rinea showing up in Berkut’s art and animations???  Tiny Tiki potentially degenerating the way Naga feared???  Feral!Corrin???  yeah hello and welcome to the latest update to my heroes canon 

Things are going to be weird in the creche for a while as you might imagine.  It wouldn’t just be the dragons, though: Fallen!Takumi would be having his own issues with Fallen!Corrin, since that feral dragon appeared immediately after Mikoto’s death, and he would hinge a shocking amount of rage and grief on her because of it.  In the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, there’s a part of him that feels that if Corrin hadn’t been brought to Hoshido, Mikoto wouldn’t have died, his family wouldn’t have been launched into that horrific war, Ryoma wouldn’t have killed himself…and while he has, to some extent, managed to push back a lot of these feelings and look at them more logically, there’s still some anger nested very, very deep that comes roaring back to the surface with Fallen!Corrin’s arrival.  

And then, of course, there’s Fallen!Tiki.  The Grimas (and Duma, too, at this point) have intervened in more than enough of the young Tikis’ nightmares of isolation and loneliness…so this child, who has fallen so deeply into despair, to the point of letting her overwhelming powers run free, would break their hearts.  They don’t know what happened, to have robbed her of her hope like this – Duma would suspect Gharnef is involved – but the end result would remind the Grimas far too much of themselves.

They would band together, though – Duma, the Grimas, and all the rest of the dragon children – to bring Fallen!Tiki into the fold.  She’s not alone anymore, and this is no dream: they are all just like her, and they want to be her friends and keep her company, so that she won’t ever have to wake up alone anymore.  Duma in particular would step up to this: he would be there for her at every turn, walking hand in hand with this tiny dragon child, draping his cape over her like a blanket while she sleeps, and gathering her up should she suffer a nightmare so that when she wakes she feels the warmth of another presence and knows that the fear and the sorrow was only a dream.  He would help her learn to temper her powers in ways she wasn’t able to before, and whenever she looks back he would always, always be there watching over her. 

Things with Fallen!Corrin would be…dicier.  Understandably.  Kana would be so worried about her, since she’s like his mama but not his mama, and she seems to be hurting so much…he would try to snuggle up with her as often as he can, bringing her gifts of flowers and shells to try and cheer her up however he can.  Fallen!Takumi would give her wide berth at first, and keep a wary eye on her whenever she happens to interact with the children (especially young Summer!Tiki and Young!Azura)…but it would be Mikoto who finally manages to change it.  His mother, who reminds him that Corrin is struggling in the same way that he still does, fighting against power she does not understand and cannot easily control.  Why doesn’t he help her?  Share what he knows, so that she does not pose a threat any longer?  And grudgingly he would reach out, offering just that…and though the tension would be high (rather frighteningly so, at first), it would be effective.  Corrin would still struggle, but it would become easier to control her power and her transformations; she would never completely lose her draconic features (namely the tail), but she would be able to interact more comfortably with others, and take more part in what they do.  It would also finally start uprooting that last nest of distrust and blame he has so long fixed on Corrin, and slowly give him yet greater control over himself and the foreign power that dwells within him. 

[seasaltmemories]

To Live As Free Men and Women

Over and over again I hear the conflict of echoes summarized as “shifting from relying on gods to relying on humanity’s own accomplishments.”  And on the surface that makes perfect sense.  All the endgame quotes are about refusing to bow down to Duma and wanting to fight for their world.  

However this reading has always not sat well with me because of two things.  First this celebration of humanity’s individual strength is not brought up until the last moments of Act 5.  To call it the main theme when so much of the earlier conflict was about class feel disingenuous.  Second, this reading tends to pit Alm and Celica as opposites where Alm shows Celica the light.  Aside from disliking the convenient dismissive treatment of the female protagonist, my obvious bias aside, it just isn’t good storytelling to have one of your leads solely exist to be wrong.  Not to mention the game is going for a sort of dualism between the two of them, so to paint Celica’s route as just one mistake is short-sighted.

So the question remains, what is the main theme of Echoes?  Does it have a theme?  Regardless of your thoughts on the game, it still sends a message, every piece of art does, even if it is as banal as “good will always triumph,” that is still a theme.  So to examine echoes, thoroughly we have to find a thread that manages to link the entire game together.

The best place to start is obviously the beginning.  After the opening video.  We are given a little exposition dump about the state of Valentia.  Two countries and two gods, one emphasizing war and the other emphasizing peace.  Makes sense, it is pretty obvious which one we’re supposed to root for and what country we’ll be following.  Cue the prologue where after everyone was so excited to meet the knight in the woods, he turns out to be totally willing to murder children.  It would be so easy to write Slayde off as a bad apple but the narrative makes no attempts to try and act as if anything about him is non-standard.  If anything the start of Act 1 goes out of its way to detail just how rotten Zofia is.  It’s fitting that Alm joins a rebellion first and foremost, and it is not until Act 3 Rigel really becomes an antagonist.  And much of Act 1 is targeting Zofia’s own corruption, its bandits and power-hungry nobles.  Despite being massive problems, Alm rushes headlong into them, wanting nothing more than to protect people.

Act 2 starts similarly, Celica learning of just how horrible the pirates are, and how they have been allowed practically free reign of the seas.  She has even fewer reasons to get involved, considering her party is literally five people, but she can’t secure safe passage otherwise so let’s do this.  If it takes fighting necrodragons then she will fight necrodragons.

Despite both of their reckless behavior, they accomplish real change and make things for the better.  And so after growing up into the people they are today, Alm and Celica in an obviously heartwarming manner.  Except quickly things tilt sideways.  

Celica’s hypocritical behavior has been long-pointed out, wishing him to avoid bloodshed after just killing a pirate king, but things still stay civil until this moment.

“Alm: Nrgh… If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was speaking to a blue blood. My station doesn’t matter, Celica. I’m here because I was called. I have a duty to perform, and I’ll perform it. No more, and no less.

Celica: Oh, Alm…

Alm: Do you think I WANTED this fight? This all started because Lima IV went and angered the empire. If you wish to point fingers, point them at the ruler who failed his people. It’s his fault we’re in this mess.”

Alm points to Lima and the system that failed Zofia, and while he is not wrong, as the Zofian heir, Celica is just as much a part of that system.  And to have someone so important to her throw the failings of the state at her feet, when all her life she has simply tried to survive, feels like the worse betrayal.  And when Alm still expects her to hold responsibility for all those mistakes (even if he doesn’t directly ask it of her) she explodes.  Now obviously Alm didn’t know how his words would impact her, and Celica was the first to go on the offensive, but often this discussion gets characterized as just being about violence, when that discussion is just a footnote to the real conflict.

Starting with Alm, Act 3 opens with Alm finally meeting Berkut face to face, someone who represents all of Rigel’s teachings about power and strength.  While a fearsome opponent, he has an utter meltdown after Alm’s army beats him.  As they go on their way to face Desaix, even Clive starts to fail Alm by doubting him and questioning if it is worth it to try and save Delthea, and depending on how well you play the next few levels, he really might fail Alm such as when/if Mathilda dies and he blames Alm for her death.  While he still will eventually come around to believe in Alm once again, we see that even after retaking Zofia, the old order is still not completely gone.

Celica meanwhile has to confront another outlaw king, but this time Greith is more personal, aside from people in her army having been directly harmed by him, there’s this lingering thread of Greith only having been able to grow so powerful because of Lima’s negligence.  In-universe there is no reason she has to go and stop him, it is a significant detour from her pilgrimage, still she refuses to enable this injustice.  Greith warns her that there will always be another one like him, and when they arrive at the temple, Mila is gone and unable to fix everything like she wanted to do.  So Celica does what she has been running away from her entire life, she reveals her status as the lost princess and promises to protect Zofia and Mila.

However while this is a good choice both for her development and from a logical standpoint, we start to see that even it is not without consequences in the Act 4.  Determined to save Mila, Celica eventually comes into contact with Jedah, who says as long as she gives up her soul to Duma, he will return Mila.  Now while Celica is often lambasted for this choice, let’s look at how she sees this and why she doesn’t immediately distrust him.

While we have seen Jedah be a creep all game, this is the first time Celica has seen him, and while he is othered and marked evil with a lot of traits, such as his blue skin, how stupid would it be if in real life you refused to work with people because “they looked evil” not to mention he is the leader of a similar faith, it would be like if a protestant Christian talked with the Pope.  Jedah is a scumbag but Celica has no reason in her eyes to immediately distrust him/assume he is lying.

And having traced Celica’s actions up until now, how she hates the suffering of others and will do anything in her power to fix things, why would she not consider herself a worthy exchange for Zofia’s restoration?  With Conrad’s reappearance, there’s even another heir ready to take over.  All her life she’s been confronted with her father’s failure, and what kind of ruler would she be if she followed in his footsteps?  

Still despite this mindset, she does not go to Duma Tower to die.  She plans to see Mila and rescue her first and foremost.  But when it looks as if Mila is completely gone and impossible to recover, she decides she will at least try and protect those she loves.

Before we can look at how that decision go, we need to return back to Alm.  In Act 4, we learn that Rigel is pretty much as corrupt as Zofia.  People like Nuibaba and Jerome manipulate good people like Zeke and Tatiana purely for their own selfish gain.  Throughout all this Alm is treated as if he is already King of Zofia, which Alm never really confronts and very obviously chafes at the thought.  He stands poised to become a living legend, when horror of all horror he ends up being the one to kill his own father.  

While Rigel welcomes him with open arms as there prince, Alm finds no joy in the title and learns that all his hard work was just to fulfill Rudolf’s plans.  And the closer he gets to the climax the more and more trauma he suffers,  having to kill his only remaining family left, Berkut having gone mad from his failure to live up to Rigel’s ideals of power over everything.  In the end it culminates in Alm having to even kill the woman he loves.

The only thing that keeps this story from becoming the tragedy we first saw at the beginning of the game is the fact Mila takes pity on them and decides to release Falchion for Alm.  So to act as if the events of Echoes were purely fueled by human ingenuity is disingenuous.

So what was the point of this little recap?  Well when you look closely you see it is not just Duma and Mila who failed them, but the entire way their world was structured, the sins of their fathers who created/maintained a world where the weakest were always exploited the most.  A world where they were denied happiness and set up to fail.  Celica has her entire life defined by being a part of this system, less an individual person and more a title.  What use was she as an individual, if she didn’t give her all for a country her blood had left down?  And Alm was denied a family, and forced to kill them simply because of Rudolf’s plan, even if it was for the greater good.  The world Duma and Mila set-up centuries ago is not the type of world these people need anymore.  Killing them is not enough, they have to change the entire structure of society as they know it. It’s why they get rid of Rigel and Zofia in the end to create the One United Kingdom, because only then can they start fresh, free from the influences of before.

Now some might say, why explain make such a big deal over such a minor detail?  Gods, society, what’s the difference?  But like I said earlier a theme needs to encapsulate the entire work, not just the climax.  And society’s failing manifest in multiple ways in Echoes, from classism, to tragedy of Sonya’s family, to Valber’s loss.  From start to finish Echoes never lets you forget what a broken world Valentia is.  And to fix it you can’t just take Alm’s impulsive idealism or Celica’s country-bound devotion.  Sometimes you need both, and to attack the problem at the source of its roots.

[spdtactics-a]

okay now that i’ve had time to get my thoughts in order and fact check and revise, mila. honestly this is all mostly canon information i just wanna get it into my own words. it’s lengthy so it goes under a cut

while her exact age is unknown, mila is 1,000 years younger than her brother. 

together the two of them served as retainers to the divine dragon king, naga. where duma excelled in matters of military, mila’s magic and love caused the divine dragons’ kingdom to flourish. together, the siblings were known as the kingshield and the kingsgrail respectively. their bond was strong, and under naga’s guidance they brought prosperity to the newly appearing humanity... and all was well.

that is... until forneus’ experiments and machinations caught duma’s attention and the dragon razed the city of thabes to the ground, believing that this sort of power was cheap and unearned, and seeing the construct as an abomination. when naga flew into her rage and lashed out at the kingshield for his actions, mila caught wind of the situation and quickly stepped in to defend her brother. at first, she only shielded him, taking blow upon blow meant for duma. she hoped to quell naga’s rage so that they might discuss the situation. when naga would not stand down and talk, mila chose to stand by duma and fight.

even if naga would allow her back after the battle, mila decided she would not return if it meant serving the king without her dear brother. and so, the two exiled dragon siblings departed for a new land. she never understood naga’s parting gift of a sword made from her own fang, but hoped it was some token of forgiveness for duma.

after seven long days of journeying across the sea the dragons would stumble across a new continent, and the siblings decided to rule their own land together. 

duma, embittered and seeking revenge, constructed duma tower. mila approved, and for a short time all was peaceful. the first pockets of humanity were beginning to crop up, and like they did in the old land, the siblings blessed them with their knowledge.

tensions arose when the siblings’ morals and ideology began to conflict, and argument upon argument broke out. duma believed hardship and toil was necessary for humanity to grow in strength and character. mila loved humans dearly, and did not wish to see them in pain-- she wished to care for them like a mother might, and shield them from all harm. she desired a utopia where man could live freely and happily under her care. humans, she thought, were fragile and delicate creatures who were born and died in the blink of an eye. she cared for them, in truth, as one might care for their pets. ( think how rose quartz in ste.ven unive.rse never truly understood humanity until getting to know greg, or feferi peixes’ view of her people and how to rule them from ho.mes.tuck. )

both were too stubborn to stand down or work out a compromise so in the end, brother and sister took up arms against each other and battled for dominance. in the end, when their enormous strength was exhausted, they split the land between them-- never to interfere in the other’s affairs again. an exception to this would be two thousand years later when the sage and astronomer matthaus proposed a calendar to mila. she would accept and share it with her brother, marking the first year of the valentian calendar. 

the distance from duma broke mila’s heart, and she spent many days weeping for the loss of the most important person in her life, but she vowed to prove to him her ideals were not childish nor coddling, and so she maintained her silence unless some great need to speak with duma arose. a truce was briefly formed when the pirate nations attacked their lands and the kingdoms of rigel and zofia were established under the gods’ chosen heroes.

mila began to experiment with magic-- temporal magic in particular, as a sort of back-up plan should ruin befall her ( or duma’s, though she’d never admit it ) territory. in the end, she produced the pair of turnwheels capable of reversing time. these were prototypes, only capable of turning back hours at most, and sadly the earth mother would not be able to continue her research, having hit a wall in her study. one turnwheel would find its way to duma’s lands regardless and eventually end up in the hands of silque. 

a truce was briefly formed when the pirate nation invaded valentia and the kingdoms of rigel and zofia were established under their chosen heroes.

mila also acted as upholder of the law and a judge to her people when the need arose. while court proceedings were usually left to her priests and priestesses -- then judges and magistrates of the kingdom of zofia once it was formed -- to act in her place, particularly grievous crimes were overseen by the earth mother herself. she would never inflict or allow the death penalty, but her judgments were fair and sound. 

on that note, an early sign of mila’s sanity beginning to slip would be her judgment waning, her legal system collapsing bit by bit by corruption, and her own sudden lax nature when it came to the laws of her land, putting pleasure and her love for the humans and their silly little antics over righteousness. this would be best exemplified in lima’s abduction of liprica and his forcing her to become his wife-- something that would have normally angered the earth mother was barely reacted to. because their goddess no longer passed judgement and simply provided, the common people paid lip service to her priests and priestesses and saw mila only as a means of sustenance. so long as they praised her, she would provide and love them. that was all that mattered to the zofians.

while not as far along in her degeneration as duma was his, mila’s mind was definitely not fully intact anymore when rudolf came for her. her sealing was a release from the madness, and her body died some time after turned to stone and moved to duma tower. 

despite duma’s breaking of the divine accord, mila still held love for her brother and feared the humans might turn against him soon, not having understood what was happening beyond that. when rudolf sealed her away, she in turn sealed falchion in hopes of protecting him. only one she deemed worthy would be capable of freeing the blade and unlocking its power-- this would be alm, a few years later.

mila’s body’s death would be what plunged zofia into ruin. her soul remained trapped in falchion, only being freed when alm drew the blade from her skull-- at this point, she saw clearly what had happened: duma had lost his great mind, and was a danger not only both to their people but himself. slaying him would be the people’s only hope: the twilight of the gods was nigh.

from her prison of a blade mila’s power was very limited, though she did her best to answer the deliverance’s and celica’s army’s prayers as they were fighting for the future of zofia. her last great acts before truly expiring would be to revive celica and restore her soul, then restore valentia alongside duma before passing on. 

she hopes to reconcile with her brother fully in the afterlife and watch over their people from afar with him-- as well as make amends with naga upon reuniting with her.

♥┇earth mother. ( mila / ic )

♥┇earth mother. ( mila / gallery )

♥┇earth mother. ( mila / headcanon )

♥┇earth mother. ( mila / study )

[jasperlion]

@ascendinghatred [ x ]

    Normally Berkut isn’t one to take the high road. And technically, he doesn’t. He’s certainly said worse to Alm in the past without remorse or apology. And he has half a mind to throw it back in his face,  returning insults in turn.

    But oooh the opportunity to watch Alm forced to say he’s sorry and for Berkut to look better in the eyes of his uncle? Alm’s own father?

   Why, that’s an opportunity he simply can’t pass up. He waves his hand in dismissal.

   “ Water under the bridge, cousin. Consider it forgotten .”

   The sincerity in his tone is juxtaposed against the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

This truly is a test of patience. Duma, give him strength to hold back and not throw a punch at that smug guy’s damn face—!

Surely, Alm knows that his cousin hardly means it and is likely laughing it up now, coming out of the harmless name-calling like a hapless and tormented victim. The one time he starts something, and it’s when his Father is now present and among them. ... A test of patience, Alm. Don’t let it get to you.

A smile falls on his face, familiar and sincere, despite his anger boiling within. Sure, he’s mad at Berkut, and certainly the response was probably faked for whatever gain Berkut saw of this (looking good, probably), but a part of him couldn’t help but childishly grasp at the opportunity that, perhaps, this would lead to them at least getting along more in the future.

“... Thank you, Berkut. I’ll be sure to watch myself in the future.”

He was sure that, the moment his Father turned their attention from them, Berkut’s nastier habits would show themselves once more. As much as he wished he could explain this all to his Father, Alm doubted the man would take his side of things anyway, not to mention believe his word. ... He could take it, he was made of stronger stuff.

[norasfilmjourney]

User's Canon, Film #254

Django Unchained (2012), dir. Quentin Tarantino

To quickly touch on the controversial nature of this film, I'd like to say that I agree with the problems people have brought up with the tone. Spike Lee is absolutely right in saying that "American Slavery Was Not A Sergio Leone Spaghetti Western." On top of this, it is pretty indulgent, perhaps too much so even for a slavery-focused film, in the suffering of it's black characters. However, are we really going to pretend that this film doesn't blatantly advocate for killing your masters throughout the entire film? On top of this it portrays racists not only as cunning and malicious - as racists often prefer to be portrayed - but as unreasonable and stupid, something more closely in line with reality. These as well as also being unsympathetic to bootlickers portrays this as a fairly progressive film this way in spite of it's (fairly regressive) tone, in my view.

Perhaps my favourite moment in the film is when Schultz tells Candie that Alexandre Dumas was black. A small moment but quite simply perfection. A letting out of anger by doing what these people would actually, truly hate - humiliation. To know that an artist you love is something you hate, I am sure many of us have experienced, it is a brief moment of true anger, of a sort of embarassment. Usually it is those that care who feel this - those who are mad about, perhaps, Tarantino's Polanski defending, if we are to use the first example that comes to mind - the progressives. To flip this onto those who tend not to suffer this feeling, is just a really cool idea to me. Let's embarass white supremacists more often.

Past that, I find this to be the most reasonable use of Tarantino's signature cartoon-ish violence of those I've seen (albeit, I've yet to see Kill Bill) - the western setting works rather well with it, and frankly, exploding racist bodies in slow motion is about the most tasteful thing imaginable to be indulgent in. What doesn't work for the western setting is the music, I'm frankly just much more a fan of the Morricone-esque soundtracks of spaghetti westerns. As expected in a big budget period piece, the production, costume, and set design here is wonderful and immersive.

The acting here is actually really good all around, which is not something I expected to say as someone who isn't a fan of Leonardo DiCaprio or Jamie Foxx's work usually. It's to be expected from Christoph Waltz, of course, but the other's are a very pleasant surprise. That's a term to describe the movie overall, really. I did not expect to like this movie let alone as much as I did. Probably my 2nd favourite Tarantino of those I have seen thus far, 8/10.

[jasperlion-archive]

❤️

Rambles and rants (Accepting) —  Romantic love(s), past or present

“Okay, so, a lot of this ‘love’ thing is weird to me. Not because it’s ‘weird’ or ‘icky’, but because I never really know when it started to be like that, you know? One day we’re just best friends who get to live together all the time, the next I think it wouldn’t be so bad if it was always like that. It was just, you know, the logical conclusion that kid me could come up with.” He shrugs, but wears a bright smile on his face. There’s not much hesitation here, Alm never felt there had to be. If one was honest about things, what was wrong with it?

“Then she’s gone, you don’t know where to, and it’s like your life just got rewritten around you and it’s just— anyway.” Alm waves off the thought, clearly uncomfortable at speaking of how it felt after Celica had to leave Ram. Not that the next part is pleasant as much as he’d rather speak of that.

“Seven years, okay? We see each other after seven years and so much has changed. We were so happy to see each other again, but things were so different; so, so much that I have no idea just why or how I angered her, just that I did, and she— She’s mad, I’m upset she wouldn’t listen to my side of things, and it stinks to just let it go, just like that, but there’s not much one can do, right?” A sigh escapes him, and his hands clasp together, fingers tapping against the back of his hands.

“It bothered me, though. We had made a promise, back when we were kids, that we wouldn’t be like Mila and Duma. That if we got into an argument, we would apologize for hurting each other and move forward, you know? I guess it was a little idealistic, things rarely go that way when arguments get heated, but we could dream, right? I wanted to make things right with her again, if we ever happened to even see each other again. She was off on her mission, and I was on mine, both dangerous in their own right.” Hands unclasp, left now running through his hair in slight frustration at himself. His posture seems tense, it’s clearly not something he’s okay with just yet, perhaps not quite yet forgiving himself for it all.

“I— I don’t know where I’m going with this, other than the fact that I did learn why I made her mad with what I said, I realized how insensitive I had been and, next time we saw each other, we both apologized. I think, at least, that’s a lot better than it could have gone. So, I think listening to each other is important, as well as letting each other in on... things that are weighing you down or bugging you. Communication’s important, and I’m glad that, even if it took us some time to reflect, we did actually come through on our promise. Not on never being like that, but at least in not letting it come between us in the end.” And he truly looks relieved, posture now more relaxed and shoulders dropping from their more tense position.

“She’s great, you know? Amazing, really. A really good person at heart, and a force on the battlefield. Sometimes I look at her and it feels like I’m looking at the person who put the stars in the sky. Maybe she puts too much on her shoulders, just like I can jump to conclusions real quick and have a short fuse, but I guess it’s just things we have to work on!”

[rexcaliburechoes]

Valentia Week Day 6 - Curses

(Originally posted here)

For @valentiaweek

Prompt: Gods/Men

Rated: T

Warnings: Blood, body horror, death, insanity

Characters: Duma, Rudolph is mentioned breifly

Relationships: None

Summary: In which Duma fall to his own madness

-S-

The dragon had slept for weeks now. He wasn't weak. He could stave off this curse that was slowly gnawing at his bones by sleep-

He hungered for something other than the... Morsels that had need served to him. He wanted fresh blood. He wanted bone.

No. He was Duma! The divine dragon that gifted man with strength! He would not fall to a simple curse such as this! He thwarted his own primal urges by locking himself in these catacombs he built in the beginning, in preparation for the curse. He was safe. He was assured safety. The mages that faithfully followed his teachings to this day were trying to cure him of his ailments. Those willing children that sacrifi-

Foolish, pitiful humans. There was no cure to this... 'curse' as they called it. He would only be sated with the soul of the Chosen, or he shall perish. They wanted him to live on and lead them into ruin. Weak creatures.

What day was it?

"The four hundred-nineteenth of Avistym." The god answered his own question. Good. His mind was not lost.

The silence in the chamber was too great for a god such as he. He opened his mighty jaws to speak-

His roar bounced off of the cavernous ceiling, little pieces of rock raining down. The swamp that had amassed from a poined stream bubbled and boiled. Blood, blood, he wanted fresh blood. Meat and bone, blood running from their pores, tears blinding them as they screamed for mercy. He wanted to hear them suffer. He wanted to hear them scream.

"No!" Duma's large eye rolled around its socket, scanning the surroundings. Empty. The swamp was still. The loneliness of the cavern pressed in on all of his senses. For once, he would like to smell the fresh breeze from the pine trees, feel the warmth of the sun and the cold of the northern winds. The stale, stagnant air in the catacombs was suffocating him. He wanted out. He wanted out.

He clawed at the door, shrieks of anger and sorrow tearing at his throat. Large chunks of stone broke and crumbled as he tried to gouge out the enchanted door. It was all for naught. Though deep scores were left in the stone, the door stood there, unyielding. The dragon-god screamed again in frustration. Where was the air, the light? He had never thought he would miss something so much in his deep isolation. He wanted a human companion, not just a plaything. He wanted release from this hellish nightmare. Where was he? Why was he so alone?

Duma panted, backing away from the door. Where was his control?! He could evade those impulses. What was wrong with him?

What was the date? The sixtieth of Flot- no. The fifth of-

The date have him pause. What was the date? How could he gave forgotten?

Perhaps it would come back to him.

Who was the last person to see him?

Duma didn't see many visitors in these catacombs. No would was brave enough, barring the High Preist. But who? It hadn't been the High Priest this week, he was sure. No, no. No purple-skinned mad had visited him this week, praising him and promising him that he would be well soon. It was a different man. The Other man.

This Other man... He was different. He was not devious, but he was intelligent and strong. Ah, what was his name? Randolph? Whatever it was, it mattered little, now.

Randolph did not sugarcoat things. He was of the old breed of Rigelians. Strong and mighty-

Weak. Oh, so weak. His heart was still soft and easy to crush. He would not do. He must be destroyed.

And would lead Rigel well. But his son... His son had something of interest to him. A Brand. One that no other babe carried to his knowledge. This child... He was fated to-

The child must be destroyed! Humanity was sick and twisted and needed to be eradicated. But first he needed that child. He needed his strength. He needed Him.

"Bring him to me," Duma rumbled. "He is mine, and mine alone."

Finally, the madness has caught up to him.

[acquagalaxies]

I just don’t understand why people become crazy when they know that in Gankutsuou they make Eugénie an “heterosexual” girl (despite I feel Bisexual’s vibes from her in the anime) for plot reason. Why do this thing get you so mad?

I know, I feel sorry too that they didn’t put in there Louise d’Armilly in the final project (if you see the earlier trailers you’ll notice at first they wanted to stick to the book for this thing) but guys, it seems that for you people Eugénie’s character is reduced just by “being a lesbian”.  Ehm… no????? Fuck no. To make a character great is not their sexuality yo. She can be a wonderful character without being forcedly a lesbian. :/

Don’t get me wrong, I like her characterization in the book and I’m happy that Dumas had the courage to put  homosexual characters in his work and give them an happy ending too, but don’t say that the Eugénie from the anime sucks only bc she’s not a lesbian like the book, because this means nothing.

So, the only thing I can say at the end: try to enjoy something simply by the way it is and not make comparisions every friggin time with the original source, in this way you would ruin the vision to yourself.

P.s. with this I don’t want to offend or insult anyone, it’s only a legitimate question bc I’m really confused about all this anger. If someone can, then explain to me please.

[latinaliveblogging]

The Circle Brazil

Ep 9 "Pool Party"

Duma just said and I morhafuckken quote, "Lorayne...you're not in a position to be keeping secrets from us"

Um are you fucking kidding me.

I'm so mad.

Bitch first off: what's between akel & lolo is between them that ain't got shit to do with everyone else in The Circle??? Whether he showed up at her apt or not is none of anyone else's business outside that door like...lets be real though

Second: Everyone is treating her like shit all of a sudden cause she went from first to last because people are playing games and the first thing she said when that new guy joined was duma & marina are playing fair and now here you are being condescending as fuck, proving her wrong. She was the highest rated for like ever, the votes aren't accurate and as soon as she's not in the top anymore you say she's in no position to keep her personal life separate from the rest of the group? FUCK. YOU. Iono even like you no more now.

I have plenty more to say but I forgot due to my own anger ha

____________________________

Edit: I AM SO FUCKING GLAD MARINA WON AYYYEEEE! I FREAKING LOVED HER FROM JUMP.