#magicxecustos

[alonggoodbye]

she tries not to watch him too closely (really!), but it's hard not to focus on merc when he's on stage. his persona shifts when he plays with the crypt sleepers; he's letting out pent up feelings, but his shoulders feel more loose. he seems... free in a way she doesn't see when he's at the funeral home. sheri watches from the back of the dive bar with rapt attention, finger tracing along the edges of her drink glass.

He pretends that he hasn't seen her, but the lights are low enough that he can make out her face beyond the crowd. Despite the effort, when Mathias locks eyes with Nick, he is aware the Winters siblings know what (or who) has shaken his concentration. There's no hiding it. They've practised this song for weeks and the intro is now two bars longer than it's supposed to be (for fuck sake)! Another two-bar repeat and the trio cover the mistake well enough that only those who have heard the song before would be aware of the change.

When he finally starts on the lyrics, his voice has a nervous waiver like every fibre of his being shivers at the thought of Sheri's dark eyes focused on him. The sound of his pulse rushes in his head louder than the bass drum and the audience's heavy foot falls as they dance to the beat. He feels flushed, eager to please- Bewitched. Suddenly, his lips feel too close to the cold microphone and too far from the skin he's been dreaming about. The once near-paralyzing thought of her out there takes hold of him, possesses him, pushes him to perform, and his body obeys.

The abrupt punch of enthusiasm elicits a roar of delight from the front of the stage which pulls the corner of his lips up into a crooked, cocky smile.

Whatever you do, keep your eyes on me.

His ears strain for the sound of her voice cheering for them. Mathias knows full well that life will pull them apart again after this set is over- it always does- and he's trying hard to hold her here with him in this moment. He wants, no, needs to know that Sheri's going to be haunted by the thought of him for weeks. Millie's mocking voice rings in his head: 'pshhh... You dog!'

[likemosaic]

@magicxecustos : [ KEEPING ] receiver holds sender's arm just above the elbow while they're talking or to get their attention. (for solus era or emet selch shb era, whatever floats your boat vibewise!) casual yet intimate interactions meme.

solus stops mid-word when aurelia grabs him by the arm, expression slightly outraged at being forced to a stop. but mostly curious. he feels the brush of air as she pulls out her scythes, quicker than a lightning strike; hears the clang of metal as a projectile is repelled off of her blade, alarmingly close to his chest. before he can react, one of aurelia's men has the assailant on the ground, while the assailant screams bloody murder, death to the emperor, blah blah blah. they always say the same thing, don't they? solus is reminded of lucius during one of his temper tantrums.

chaos unfolds as the emperor's guard jump into action, several seconds slower than both reapers, who could have handled the entire thing by themselves. solus watches dully, unimpressed by how they handle the assassin, the way they roughly yank his arms behind his back. painful, sure, but unimpressive. he turns to aurelia.

"well spotted," he tells her, eyebrows raised. despite his mild reaction, he's genuinely relieved. it would have been a pain in the fucking neck to explain why he could survive a bullet to the heart, and no, everyone, don't panic, the emperor is fine! bleeding from the chest, but fine! "i believe that's the fourth this month. you've won your ridiculous gamble."

cossutia and her maidservant had bet two assassination attempts before the end of the quarter; aurelia had bet four, in an attempt to undercut her friends. ruthlessness wins, as always.

solus sighs. "how tiring it all becomes. shall we return home?" this outing has lost its joy, and he's of a mind to see their family.

[windcovet]

@magicxecustos : sheri's long ears twitch as she hears rapidly approaching footsteps from behind her. red lips curve into a smile as she hears the miqo'te teen leap into the air. she widens her stance and moves her arms, catching j'tanga on her back (with only a stumble or two!) in a piggyback hold. "hello tanga," she chuckles, feeling her nuzzle into the crook of her neck. "good visit with your father?"

“toto—toto please!” said with a warm and boisterous laugh, as his daughter’s strained arms hold fast against his torso, lifting him some few ilms off the ground, if only for a moment. j’tanga strains and grunts with her controlled might, pressing her cheek into her father’s chest as she returns him to the earth. with a small sigh, feigning annoyance, the older miqo’te ruffles his daughter’s coarse hair, mindful of her precious ears. “i must be off, my dear. and so should you! i would hate to keep your friends awaiting the life of the party.” he bends at the knees, squatting to place a kiss to the girl’s forehead, meeting bright, purple eyes—near to bursting with contented love. “yes yes baba, i know…” said with a rare meekness, hands clasping behind her, near the base her slashing tail. playful. “tell lyse and widargelt i said hi—and give ‘em HELL in training!” she giggles out, hips swaying with delight and eagerness. with another, smaller hug, rhalgr’s liberator is off to rendezvous with her party (or prey, depending). of which, as she spies on the other side of rhalgr’s reach. sheri. stompstompstompstomp. to the layman, it’d be hard to tell whether it was j'tanga herself, or kuku approaching from the sound alone… but sheri likely had taken one too many tackles to the floor of the rising stones to be caught off guard this time. a leap, an oof, and a smile. “hi sheri!” with all the glee one can expect from the beloved runt of the scions of the seventh dawn. she nuzzles into her neck, basking in the familiar smell of her friend’s hair. her limbs hold fast as the miqo’te climbs her willowy friend, adjusting her thighs and arms for a more comfortable cling, and mindful of her shoes, dusted with sand as they are! she wouldn’t want to dirty sheri’s ensemble… unnecessarily, atleast. hehe. she parks her chin on sheri’s shoulder, purple orbs darting around the reach in search for their mutual quarry. “now!” said with a sudden, emphatic severity before immediately turning back to her customary cheery lilt, “arenvald said he’d be around here shortly… but i don’t see him. short or tall.”

[nightingeal-arch]

🚶

📩 @magicxecustos – prompt.

name: park hyungmin, "minnie". star sign: scorpio. job: head of marketing for a large, high-end department store. favourite drink: french press coffee. theme song: waste it on me – steve aoki, feat bts. their relationship song: 'tis the damn season – taylor swift.

park hyungmin is a deeply lonely man, living a life that his father dictates for him. and don't get it wrong, he's successful, at least by his father's definition. minnie is a little lost, and at 28 years old, realises that he's been following a track that has been set for him by someone who never put in the effort to know him. he's lonely, and meeting ellie opened a lot of doors for him, finally meeting people he had something in common with, but never really shaking the idea that he is less than everyone around him, and deeply uninteresting. this isn't true, and he is loved dearly in the friendship group, but he needs a little more therapy. 

ellie's 24th birthday was a little bit of a nightmare. dave and marley both fly out and the two of them join ciaran and the kids for a birthday lunch, but the meal ends after marley had overwhelmed the conversation with her own life and achievments, the family dispersing shortly after ellie's sister throws a particularly cruel comment her way. ellie leaves, in tears, before the rest of them and bumps into a kind stranger, literally colliding with park hyungmin. the conversation is brief, but he hails and pays for a taxi for her to get home. 

they don't meet again until a few months later when ellie is making a return on a gift and minnie happens to be in the store rather than the office. this time, their conversation lasts a little longer, minnie inviting ellie to grab a coffee, which she accepts. they swap numbers, and their schedules leave their friendship happening via calls and texts, not meeting up as much as they'd like. after a conversation where they realise that they'd met before on her birthday, minnie knocks on ellie's door with a handbag she had commented on as they'd walked out of the department store, calling it a late birthday present, and a request that they find more time for each other, because he'd really rather like to kiss her, but she doesn't seem to kiss before a first date. ellie surprises him by kissing him in that moment. 

they were together for a year and a half after that, moving in after 6 months of dating, but due to both of their insecurities and the way their work lives ended up, both of them felt neglected by the other. the way ellie begged for his attention could only be called acting out, and minnie's reaction to conflict was to pull away, only exaserbating ellie's insecurities, while minnie felt her actions inconsiderate, both of them missing and misunderstanding each other. the love never died, but the relationship was unsustainable, and the pair mutually decided to break up. they're friends now, still a little in love perhaps, but neither of them could handle the heartbreak that would come with failing again, not to mention they both whole-heartedly believe the other has moved on. 

[tensleepkite]

"So, you need my help for a change. That's what this is about, right?"

@magicxecustos

[nightingeal]

📩 @magicxecustos sent: ❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜ – prompt.

a huff of air pushed through ellie's nose, amused. it was a fair observation, really, when they met, elinor had been out of her mind, addled by a fresh and violent death, struggling to decipher his own reality. when they met, elinor had been a person of interest and, though it's laughable now, a potential threat to the safety of mundane and supernatural alike. the shadow of his reputation to those who didn't understand, didn't know, hung over her, looming and dark, and it was a blessing, a relief, that sheri had had the patience to ignore first, grim impressions and learn how ellie's power worked, rather than blame him for the death that had surrounded and characterised her life.

"in your defense, that wasn't my best first impression." ellie hadn't considered that sheri would have become such a vital, immovable part of her life at the time either, though. strangers in a city he hadn't properly learned to exist in yet, but the witch had quickly become someone she turned for a new type of tea, usually opting for taking any magical queries to minjoon in the early days, not wanting to be a bother or a burden. "thanks for giving me a chance to rectify that, by the way."

[fatescattered]

@magicxecustos

by the time lydia makes it back to stark mansion, she's certainly worse for wear. her suit is, for the most part, intact – but it's not without a few battle scars. cuts and dents, not to mention the repulsor on her right hand threatening to go out at any minute.

it's nothing she can't fix after a few hours in the shop. the wounds under the suit aren't so easy to work around, unfortunately.

her arrival is announced by a loud clang, and lydia silently thanks the heavens for the house being empty. she'd rather not have her father see her like this, lest he deems it a complete failure.

making her way inside the shop, every step a clanky dissonance, she's startled to find she isn't alone after all. her sister sits at her work desk, surrounded by papers and tools – a familiar scenario for any of the starks.

" sher. " hearing her own modulated voice, lydia realizes she still hasn't taken off her helmet. " wait, hold on. " she strains to remove it successfully, her arms starting to give out after an exhausting night.

lydia lets out a long breath as she finally peeks out from the suit. " i thought you were out too. weren't you going with dad? "

[glacierfront]

this isn’t anyone’s fault. especially not yours.

"Do you ever just. Fuckin'. Wanna go. Like. Batshit."

Julie does not often have this feeling. But she's having it now. A careening lack of control, and the knowledge that things seem to just happen. They just — they happen, and they happen, and just keep happening.

She stares at the ambulance. It will be easy enough to pay for her elderly neighbors bill after this, but for the glowering, tired, and stupidly guilty sensation in her chest, she wishes it were more.

"Like. I wish. I did put that ice patch there." And of course Sheri means it wasn't her fault for not clearing it in the first place, but. Julie shrugs, glancing over. "Then she could have like, sued me or something, and I would feel less guilty about it."

A long beat.

"Like, maybe if I did something insane, then it would be like, at least my fault. And I could have the consequences. Instead the consequences just seem to like. Be happening. Without my action or not. So. Like." Bruh. "The fuck. Ooooh. I wish it were my fault."

[tensleepshrike]

@magicxecustos sent: the air closest to sheri still smells smoky, electric. fingers flex as she rolls her shoulders, the energy around her almost audibly crackling in the aftermath of her casting. she counts herself lucky that she hadnt chosen to wear any knits today. she pokes the carcass of the demon with her toe, willing it to start turning to ash to return from whence it came. "... don't suppose you've ever consumed anything non-human? or not of this realm?" she glances at millie. not exactly how she intended for the evening to go but surely they can both pivot. "have you been needing to eat?"

She can't be serious.

A steaming sulfuric carcass of a creature from Hell that she barely deigns to touch with her foot, and she thinks Millie wants to eat it. Her attention turns from inspecting the damage on her shirt to giving Sheri a self-righteous little look and a scoff.

"Yeah, but like, a pound of hamburger or a local predator. Not a literal demon, Sheri."

What if it's got a little poison sac like a sea urchin? What if it's gross? Lots to take into consideration here. It would suit her much better to ditch it under a bench or something and continue on to their girls' night, but something tells her that won't do for a situation like this.

"Can't you just — I don't know," she swirls her fingers around. "Disappear him somewhere?"

[stilettobitearch]

🥀general - 1, story - 10, romance - 4 @magicxecustos companion!tav headcanons.

Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

secret can be found with the tieflings in the grove! if you recruit wyll first, she takes over helping teach the children self-defense, if you recruit her first, she can be found teaching doni slight of hand tricks. she has been tadpoled, too, with chunks of recent memory missing, and incredibly paranoid that she is being followed by a devil. it doesn't take a lot of convincing to join the party, having reached a point of realising that moving with the tieflings is a danger to them. imagine her frustration when the devil she's been trying to shake turns up at camp after you recruit wyll.

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

first lick: "elminster's saggy left ballsack, you're an absolute fucking freak!" [secret approves] second lick: "... really? alright then." 

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

goblin party: if you recruit cece before turning the grove over the minthara, she leaves the party permanently and she fights against you when raiding the grove, so no romance during the goblin party. however;  tiefling party: during the tiefling party, having reached medium approval with her, cece will approach tav, and the conversation will initially revolve around the tiefling refugees, her thanking you for helping them (a conflicting message, but seeming sincere compared to her previous proclamations of detachment to the situation, not being a refugee herself, but simply sticking with her kind). a successful insight check allows you to see that she's hiding something, and if mizora has already turned up to the camp, there is a dialogue option to pry into her wariness. a successful persuasion check will reveal that she doesn't remember what she's done, but she knows that mizora has fingers in a lot of pies, and perhaps a pie of her own. (an unsuccessful persuasion check will have cece shrug it off, isn't everyone a little wary of mizora? if you're not, you should be). regardless of if you succeed these checks, secret will then propose you meet her once the party has died down, where you will find her sat on the riverbank, shoes off and feet in the water. following consent, she will go down on your tav and give you a messy kiss goodnight before telling you you should head back to your tent before the others get jealous. if you haven't reached medium approval and you approach her with romantic intentions, she will turn you down, but not unkindly, and with an encouraging hint on how to win her affection if you were serious ("try worrying less about what others think of you. and bring me a gift next time.") if you have low or very low approval and try to approach her, she literally just laughs in your face, a hearty laughter that goes on too long, deliberately so, to make you uncomfortable, before shaking her head. "read the room, sweetheart. my hand would make a better evening, and i will be choosing accordingly, i'm afraid." if your tav isn't choosing to spend the night with shadowheart or astarion, you'll see her coming back from a rendezvous with one of them in the morning.

[alonggoodbye]

sheri's expression is downright cartoonish as she ducks fast to avoid an errant fireball, cast by her ward. it collides with the hanging plant above instead, scattering burnt contents on the wood flooring. she stomps out any tiny flames quickly with her boots. "... ok maybe that's enough fire spells for now, cillian." maybe they'll focus on something less... prone to burning.

Heavy hands find rest on shaky knees. When he sits, he allows his body to make as much noise as it can on the way to the floor; he'd been on the brink of collapse for half an hour, too focused on seeing results. Cillian sighs. He does so in a way that feels like he's expelling all the air out of his lungs, making himself as empty as he thinks he ought to be. Fading memories of his immortal life leave stubborn traces of pride in this new existence, marring his ability to accept that magic would not come to him as it did when he was fae.

"'m s-sorry..." his throat burns like it's never been used (to be fair, he's only gotten the hang of speech recently), tasting of copper and heat. Apology still feels foreign to him, a sting on the tongue that he could not quite ignore.

Cillian's palms slide down his nose and down-turned lips, easing some of his frustration out of his human body like a wrung towel. This was his choice. He wanted to live. And he did this purposefully, knowing the consequences, yet not wholly understanding what it meant to change. To be changed. To witness his own becoming in the wake of the destruction of what could have been eternal. He could have been eternal.

But when Sheri notices him struggling— tears welling, jaw tight, lips quivering— and pulls him into her arms, he can't help but break. Emotion wracks his slight form, and the sobs come in waves tinged with shame, fear, and a sense of loss that he could no longer fully comprehend.

"I'm sorry."

[likemosaic]

@magicxecustos : "you always were the smartest person i knew," sheri remarks, walking around their lab and trying to lay eyes on everything she could. there was just so much to SEE. it reminded her of the few times she visited his home with her mother, surrounded by trinkets and gadgetry he was working on for pleading shop owners in the undercity. "now look at you, changing the course of history in piltover."

viktor waves a hand as if batting the compliment out of the air. "and you the budding councilwoman. i think you will be changing the world faster than i will." a wet cough into his arm, but no blood leaves viktor's mouth. "sorry to spoil the reveal. elinor already told me about your....promotion." and he is admittedly a little jealous of sheri, but kind enough to keep it to himself. she's done him a kindness by bringing him down to the lab before the sweep--he couldn't do it by himself, not without assistance, and he doesn't trust jayce enough to ask. he throws things that he can't live without into a backpack filched from jayce's things--important papers, his tools. he can't take any of the hextech or the core back up to the apartment, though he'd like to, if only to examine the changes in the technology since it chose him as a host.

not that it matters. it's clear that whatever thing was living inside of it has found a new home.

beneath his pants leg, the anomaly twitches, like a pet waking up for dinner scraps. viktor ignores it, gathering what he needs before piltover turns the lab over (and inevitably destroys most of it). viktor's aware there's probably a few damning things written out on his and jayce's chalkboard, things that would concern a councilwoman (or perhaps convince her of a guilt that doesn't exist), but let her look. repayment for her kindness, perhaps, or a trust between two zaunites. "the girl with the music box...that seems like only yesterday," he muses idly, sharp gaze sweeping over his workstation. he hates to leave it, but he can only take what he can carry, and he won't lean on sheri for any more help than he already has.

the noose is closing in. he knows he's done no wrong, but that hardly matters. a strange, crippled zaunite to blame for the woes of these past few months? a tempting prospect even for a just person. for a noxian as competent as general medarda, scapegoating him will be like breathing. he has no resentment, but it's simply a fact. and though he knows she'd jump to help him, he won't drag elinor into this--anymore than he already has.

when viktor's gotten all that he thinks he needs and left behind what he can spare, he throws the bag over his shoulder. clears his throat with a rich, unpleasant noise. "i...am ready, i think. thank you for this."

[radiantretort]

i just thank god i didn't lose you too. @magicxecustos (cont. from here)

pemberley used the touch as an excuse to pour his magic into her, it left him exhausted, but satisfied. he knew she was capable of healing herself, but he needed to do something. anything to combat the guilt he felt for putting her in harms way. 

“that was stupid of us. of me.” he said, dirt and blood sticking to his curls, smothering them down to his forehead.  “i put you in the line of fire and i’m sorry, i didn’t want to bring the fight to you.” the fact of the matter is those cultists wouldn’t have gotten to sheri if pemberley had been more careful, hadn’t led them straight to her, to her shop and her home. “stupid.” he mutters, this time to himself. he would not let this happen again. “you should be right as rain now. i’m so sorry, sheri. this isn’t your war to win. but thank you for your help.”

[nightingeal-arch]

put your records on by corinne bailey rae is an ellie song kn my heart ❤️

@magicxecustos 🔆 a song that reminds you of ellie – accepting!

🫵 YOU HAVE INSIDER INFORMATION, and you are correct about it, one of The Ellie Songs of All Time

(sc from ellie's playlist lmao)

[tensleepkite]

"Wait, wait, wait — !"

The door slams in his face against every protestation. A phenomenal force grips him by the throat and throws him from her stoop like a ragdoll. Sprawled on his back and still spewing blood-bile, Holland moans in pain, rolls onto his side, and curls into a fetal position.

You would think she'd never been woken in the night by a stranger beating down her door and screaming for help before! Unbelievable!

He struggles to his feet, hauls his meatsuit back up the steps, and presses his lips directly against the door jamb to appeal to her.

"I didn't mean to yell at you, okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled," he croons through the thick coat of blood painting his mouth black and red. "Please help me? Please? Please, please, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaaaaaaase — "

@magicxecustos

[hxllowedblood]

“ what are you doing out here by yourself? ”  (feel free to go either bg3 or modern! I have a rough bg3 verse) @magicxecustos —🕊️ question prompts!

a voice swims into focus and it's like lifting his head out of water after being submerged for hours.

mallory blinks slowly. his gaze falls first on the ground in front of him, dusted lightly with snow — when had it started snowing? — and then the street ahead. he's at a park, he realizes, on a bench facing away from the field and looking out onto a road he's sure he recognizes but only vaguely. how long had he been out here? how long had he walked?

then his eyes trail upwards, landing on an unfamiliar face. he recoils at first on sheer instinct, fingers gripping the cold metal of the bench. the vision that follows is almost visceral, a thousand ways he could reach out to hurt if it meant they wouldn't strike first, wouldn't hurt him —

but their expression seems concerned rather than hostile, and though his breaths come in shorter pants, he manages to rasp out a soft. "what? i didn't... sorry, i didn't hear what you said."