#toska-talks

[toska-writes]

Did I completely redesign my padawan oc finally giving her a name? ….possibly….. am I showing it to you with this wishy washy drawing? Even more possible

EVERYONE MEET KHA’LO SHE IS MY ITTY BITTY BABIE

[sweetheartmotives]

Wrintur you're on this blog too!?

@wrintur she's pookie #1 on here 😊

[ignify-caligo]

Hussar 4,5,10, 13

Toska 2,13,14

Florian 8,9,4

This is real embarrassing for me but hey, I finally managed to answer this ask!! Surprise for ya all (even for me lol) I’m sure - also I’m so so sorry for how long this ask been sitting in my inbox Ranger, hope ya forgive me hah 😅😅

Before you go and open the keep reading section, I want to warn that the total number of this thing is like 2012 words so be ready for a big reading lol

muse development questions here

CHARACTER: HUSSAR

4) what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character? 

One of those kinds of memories comes in the form of how his daughter ran to him all teary-eyed and pale as a ghost. It was the first thing he witnessed after coming home near midnight once again. He truly thought that something horrible had happened, dropping his leather briefcase in haste, and swooping his little girl into an embrace without hesitation. From the sound of it, his 5-year-old was the only one still waiting for him, his wife nowhere to be seen from the quick mental survey he did through the cramped living space. Before he could utter any kind of question to his daughter, she opened her mouth to show a blank space between her front teeth, while simultaneously showing off the tiny milk tooth lying on top of her small palm. Luckily for Hussar, his blood pressure did not skyrocket to a dangerous degree, it would have been quite an embarrassment if he had to explain the reason why he was having an almost heart attack. Unluckily for him, this memory of a daughter-father-only situation would be one of the last ones before the divorce. 

Another instance relates to his time in training before he became the Hussar himself. His training squad was sent for tactical training in the Bieszczady Mountains for a whole week. The training was based on solo survival tactics and navigating the wilderness without contact with HQ. Being there was an experience, sleeping under an open sky, feeling how nature enveloped everything with its majestic beauty - the views especially had been ingrained in Hussar’s mind. More so than even the training he was in the first place for. However, the first time he saw a bear wasn’t one of his fondest moments in Hussar’s humble opinion (especially when it tried to go for his MRE). 

5) does your character work so they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working? 

The easiest answer for this is both. Hussar’s hobbies like bike riding or hiking for example consume a lot of the free time he miraculously doesn’t fill with work-related matters, especially when he ultimately gets told by either his close family or coworkers that he “haruje jak dziki osioł” (works like a wild mule). Forcing this man to take a mandatory leave, is like sending him to the literal gallows in his honest opinion. When it comes to the matter of supporting his off-time activities, he takes a meticulous amount of time to have his needed equipment in top-notch condition compared to some (looking at Gromsko being the type to see a flat tyre on a bike and going “nah, its fine”) people he drags with him to those small adventurous. 

Another thing that he uses his high salary for is to get materials needed for… crocheting. That’s right, Hussar sits down in his lounge chair with a ball of yarn and crotchets or at least tries to. Compared to his other hobbies, this one is a newer skill he is trying to develop, apparently, his therapist says it’s a great way for him to work around his feelings as well as his anxieties related to work life and all the side effects of working in a “you can be killed any day” environment he frequents. Plus, he can save some money by making gifts for his close friend circle rather than spending money on expensive items all the time (his cats get also nice and cosy blankets for their own as well). 

10) what would your character make a scene in public about? 

Hussar is the most non-confrontational type of person you will ever encounter when it comes to the civilian public scene. It is not without any reason he was promoted to being a general, his public image is of the calmest person alive, and the Tibetan monks would be jealous of his cold-headedness. The duality of his public persona and what happens behind soundproof and closed doors is mind-blowing to the average person, especially when the person in question manages to spill over Hussar’s composure. Because there is always a limit to someone’s patience and in the case of Hussar it’s when you manage to create a fuck up on a nuclear scale. It usually happens in the workplace, whenever he manages to squeeze some time between report writing, meetings and such, he will overview manoeuvres on the training grounds. Suppose you manage to break one of the safety protocols such as incorrectly handling firearms. In that case, he will rip you a new one without any hesitation. People around you will part like the Red Sea to let a foaming Hussar right to where you stand (if you look around you will find some of your fellow comrades doing the sign of the cross, already sensing a funeral coming) because they are not going to catch a stray bullet. 

The longest monologue of fury that Hussar has given so far was for straight 45 minutes (time recorded by an extremely tired Rysiek wishing for a straight double vodka shot already at noon), where the general managed to drag in the poor soul’s family several generations backwards into the lecture because there had to be something genetically wrong with the private if he thinks “playing darts with rifles equipped with bayonets” was a brilliant idea. 

13) what does your character pretend or try to care about? 

When it comes to pretending, he will tell whichever higher-up in question that he only cares about “the mission’s success”. In reality, he will not regret and hesitate to pull out when the situation down below gets too hot, the safety of his people or god forbid, any civilians accompanying the mission, is much greater than any winning streak. As much as the stress of a new position and responsibilities weighs him down, he doesn’t think of his subordinates as numbers or statistics as many of his peers do; he still feels and keeps his connection to the unit and its members alive rather than succumbing to the pressure of a new rank. 

Of course, he also juggles his relationship with the Polonaise squad between friendly and professional because if he turns too cold he will lose his chosen family and if he shows too much attachment the higher-ups will chew him out. Keeping this balance is similar to the Sisyphus myth, where Hussar is stuck in a “między młotem a kowadłem” (between a rock and a hard place) situation almost constantly. He, of course, pretends that it does not affect him at all. 

In reality, he does not give a damn about his new status, but he needs to pretend so he doesn’t come out as “insolent” in the eyes of his superiors. The thing he cares most about is keeping his subordinates from getting killed or killing themselves by performing ridiculous stunts. 

CHARACTER: TOSKA 

2) what was the best thing in your character’s life? 

From what he knows, the best thing that happened to him recently is being “adopted” (read: being picked up from the mess in Las Almas by TF141 after everything, with a gushing wound in his side and hands cuffed behind his back for “everyone’s” safety) by his current commanding officer, Captain Jonathan Price. As much as he is sceptical of the motives and schemes of these new people around him, he has all he needs and wishes to have: bed, food and new targets. What else is there to wish for? 

However, something is lingering behind closed doors, in the shadows, whispering of the time he had someone who wasn’t exactly a CO but something more… motherly? A soft-spoken voice, almost of an angel’s quality, speaking to a little child in a weird and foreign language… similar in sound to the words spoken by Nikolai when his helicopter malfunctions but of a different nature... It drives Toska to his wits end because he can’t- won’t remember what all this means. 

13) what does your character pretend or try to care about? 

Toska is a simple thing, or that is what his previous COs said, he only needs to care about succeeding when it comes to his missions. Failure is not acceptable, it always was like that. Until this new CO of his, the people Toska is surrounded by, with their hawk-like stares whenever he moves a simple inch, they try to crumble his devotion. They say; “Take it easy, kid”, “Do something else, mate” or “You don’t have to take care of everyone’s equipment”, but if he isn’t needed… what is he supposed to do? He pretends that he understands and that he cares about the “no’s” and “take a rest’s” they spew at him each time he tries to be of service. 

14) how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?

He’s a dutiful weapon, there’s no “different” image or portrayal for him. If you need a soldier, he is a soldier, if you need an attack dog, he will be an attack dog. Whatever it may be that his COs want, he will deliver because; he is what they made him nothing more nothing less. 

Under that image though? There is a seed that wants to bloom out, but so far, the darkness all around won’t allow it. It may change, with time and by Toska accepting the new status quo he has been put in the middle of. 

CHARACTER: FLORIAN

4) what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character? 

Florian remembers the first time he saw an insect that wasn’t either a mutated killing machine or the local “wildlife” of the underground bunker. It was a grasshopper of all things, rubbing its’ long legs together and creating a sound that Florian had never heard before. He didn’t know what it was or how it got inside, but his curiosity was and still is never-ending and with that, he caught it by putting it in a glass jar. The ten-year-old at the time boy, ran to his mother with glee, being of course careful of his little prisoner, having in mind to show the critter to her. Instead, he bumped into his father, who when he saw the creature, ripped the jar from Florian’s hands reprimanding him about all the “radiation” and “danger” that the older man was known for labelling everything with those exact words. 

8) how many friends does your character have? 

Without counting his future camaraderie with certain Russian rangers’, he had quite a small group of colleagues growing up in Berlin. Most of those colleagues were in reality only for show, because of course having the son of one of the New Berlin’s heroes as a friend boosts someone’s social status immensely. Especially when it had its’ benefits within the new world’s school with its’ favouritism towards high-placed individuals and in turn, guaranteeing the person with better jobs, supplies, resources and equipment.  

Nonetheless, Florian had a close friend who didn’t take advantage of his heritage and legacy but saw him as a living and breathing individual. They would be the one person to aid him in the future when he would take the great leap and venture into the world’s ruins in search of his father. 

9) how many friends does your character want?

Having an early experience with friendships solely based on his status or whatever else he could offer, Florian has a hard time wanting any new “colleagues”. His determination to stay independent and to not be someone’s boost into their own agendas makes him hesitant to form any new relationship of his own accord. That mindset gets challenged quickly when he gets himself stuck in an inescapable situation amongst people he does not understand a lick of what they are saying, where the only option is to follow a mysterious man who doesn’t utter any words towards him (which is better in his opinion, because he would not understand them anyways). 

[taichouu]

Do you speak German? What language is that in uour bio?

Oh mein gott! Ze Taichouu hat Eichhörnchen-Gehirn en Isch füll of Assëneinën! ..

Now that I've given my German mutuals every right to beat me to death, no. I don't speak German at all. "Velkommen" is Swedish for Welcome! Jag är dum. The only reason I know the word(s) for squirrel brain is because that's what the German part of my family calls me.

[bainposting]

Paint The Town Red

(1989 miami) toska getting into a barfight on bains behalf because hes pissed off and drunk and like weirdly defensive about why he stepped in.

[asperss]

I called my boss a liar to his face in a taped deposition today, how's your day going?

[dabisair]

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

[thatdogmagic]

So, there's some posting going around, and after being alerted to what exactly is being made public, it's pretty clear I can't go with my initial inclination which is 'leave this alone.'

First things first:

a) I'm not going to fight any accusations of having done something potentially racist. I'm a white person raised very white; when I was made aware that the default ways I was responding to things were reading very poorly in the context of a white person and a black person, I apologized. No matter how I feel about what's happening *currently*, I still am sorry about it. I really hadn't thought of how it would come off until I saw it in hindsight.

I can't say for sure what all is being referenced aside from that instance. I'm not going to be the best judge, for the reasons mentioned above. The best I can do is absorb, apologize, keep learning to be better, and continue to chip away at the boneheaded 40yo white person shit.

b) re: ableism, the sad irony of the screengrab posted is that I was having an autistic meltdown at the time (which, no, is not an excuse). Use of the r-slur, in reference to myself, is a very sure sign I'm in the middle of one, reaching for an impact word and choosing a really terrible one. Like the verbal equivalent of hitting yourself, giving voice to what are, yes, at root, ableist thoughts that live in my head about my own diagnosis. I can and do get very frustrated with my autism sometimes, especially when I 'fail' to learn fast enough to manage it (read: fail to prevent a meltdown).

I'm also genuinely sorry people had to see that, both people in the chat and now, everywhere. I did, yes, delete it because I hated it being there, and I didn't want especially that to be the footprint I left on the server, if it was ever repurposed/the channels weren't recycled (brief note on that later).

Anyway yeah it's something I really need to work on. And it's disheartening to see it cherrypicked when everyone there was aware of the context, but yea; if you see some really wild shit from screencaps, please keep in mind that a lot of it has already been extremely cherrypicked/context is going to be missing. If the whole conversation isn't present, ask to see it.

That's the heaviest stuff that needed addressing.

The accusations of character theft are another thing, because that involves Ependa, and a conversation I had personally with Jackal that was settled amicably a year ago. Or so I thought.

It's the one conversation I did think to save in its entirety, because I just-- had a feeling it might end up being in the cherrypicked pile, or removed from the record entirely. I didn't expect to have to need it this soon, but here we are.

So here it is, in its entirety:

All of that is true, on my end. I was the one who told Ependa to go with a darker complexion on Lacey, and it really didn't quite occur to me at the time that it'd be much of an issue. It should have. The characters are distinct to me in a variety of ways, but as said in the screengrabs, it's a small pond. Past that, if there was more we could do to differentiate then it wasn't discussed with either of us, and we were both open to making further alterations as-needed.

This is not the first time this conversation has been had among werewolf creators, fwiw, or the first time we've had to chat amongst ourselves about potential crossover. I've had to have a similar talk with another artist I know and respect because there were a few too many similarities going on with a set of pieces I was already working on.

Ependa had to recently have that conversation with Trashasaurus (which I'm paraphrasing a Ependa's request), re: commissions that had requested a character that had taken a lot of visual inspiration from both Lin and Toska. She'd noticed Toska's traits and vibe and wasn't entirely comfortable with it, and upon learning they had been requested asked Trashasaurus not to take on those commissions anymore. Trashasaurus agreed and that seemed to be the end of it, save to drop some warning about the 'Lacey talk' which-- well. See above. That's it, in its entirety.

If Ependa wants to post the logs of her conversation, she can, but I'll leave that up to her.

So, that's the heart of the matter at the moment.

It's yet another fallout of yet another failed project by yet another group of artists. It's a tale as old as time, and I would've really loved to have not given it fuel, but the r-slur thing backed me into a corner and needed to be addressed. And if that was being addressed, then others things needed to be addressed, too.

The thing about character theft, though-- yeah, IDK. If there was a problem, there was a year to solve it, and the offer made to post publicly about the oops/acknowledge it right there in that moment was genuine. So far as anyone knew, this had all been settled, and any time it was brought up after there were a million assurances that it wasn't an issue.

Last: I deleted my presence on the server because I a) wasn't sure if it was going to be repurposed and wanted a lot of very personal conversations/old images removed if that happened, b) was frankly concerned about something like this happening; cherrypicked conversations getting tossed up online if things got any worse. I used undiscord, which deletes chronologically, because deleting everything is easier than finding specific conversations/image files.

Because the worst of the fights happened last, well. Yeah it's gonna look like I'm deleting the worst parts first.

I also wouldn't have willingly agreed to be on a server using third party logging software/deleted message retrieval plugins, either, had I known that was in play, but that's a 'live and learn' moment for me, unfortunately.

Anyway that's it, that's all. I can't tell anyone how to think or feel about any of this. I'll be here and will continue to post art, though, for those who still feel like sticking around.

[hinataoc]

KHOC Week Day 4 - AUs

Another day, another @khoc-week​ post!

I was debating on doing this prompt, but then remembered my old Shadow of the Colossus AU, Seeking Salvation. 

I might have shared it before, but this one is close to my heart. Every time I replay Shadow of the Colossus (amazing game btw) I can’t help but fall back in love with the environment, the lonely beauty in the world. No other game has ever captured it quite the same way since. 

ANYWAY,

This is a commission I got of Hinata (by the incredible MeiYu) from my Seeking Salvation AU. 

Set years after KH3, Riku and Hinata are given a mission to travel to the far reaches of the galaxy to discover and explore new worlds. They’ve gone further than ever before and happen upon a lone planet orbiting a faint star. 

Both of them feel something strange about the world, even from orbit safe in their ship. So they decide to land and find the small town of Toska. Elders in wooden masks watch over the townsfolk, who all refuse to give direct eye contact to either Riku and Hinata. The unsettling feeling about the town only intensifies the more they see. 

They stay a while, trying to figure out what is going on. Something is off and they intend to find out. Shortly after arriving, Hinata discovers a black horse abandoned in a graveyard. It remains by the tombstone of what she assumes was its former master. She gathers food for the horse and discovers that a few of the town children also like to visit the horse and braid its mane. 

Through this, those children take a liking to Riku and Hinata and tell them that the town is preparing for the ritual—though the children don’t really know what that means. Just that every year one of them goes missing in the middle of the night and their family is really sad in the morning. But no one will talk about it. It’s just for grown ups, the kids say. They’ll get to find out when they have their rite of passage into adulthood. 

Riku and Hinata don’t need the rite of passage to understand what the ritual actually is and they know they need to stop it from happening again. They sneak into the town’s church in the middle of the night, where they’d seen the elders gather at sunrise and sunset. There they find a collection of books and scrolls that explain the ritual sacrifice to maintain the seal of the Dormin, creatures of  with unfathomable power and abilities. The Dormin are sealed in a far away land that is forbidden for the people to set foot in. 

Seeing enough, Hinata gets up and decides they need to find the Dormin themselves and see what the people are truly up against. If it really requires sacrifice or if they can find another way. Riku reminds her they have to be careful about interfering, but says he agrees with her plan regardless. 

Though they aren’t able to make it there as they plan. A strange chant begins to fill the room, starting soft, then growing in volume. Both Hinata and Riku become unsteady and collapse to the ground, everything going black. 

Waking up, Hinata finds herself tied up with lit torches all around her. There’s drums, chanting, and crying, but she still can’t see well. Everything’s blurry and she feels as if she’s dreaming. Then everything hushes to silence and Hinata hears a blade pierce a body. A sigh of relief washes over the crowd and Hinata smells the unmistakable scent of blood. 

She’s untied and falls to her knees, blinking rapidly and trying frantically to regain her vision. An elder speaks lowly at the front of a crowd. Hinata makes out his shape against the flickering firelight. He speaks of peace and Toska being cleansed by the sacrifice. Hinata looks behind him, making out a blade protruding from...Riku’s body. 

Everything after became a blur. Hinata remembers screaming, people running, elders chanting...none of it changed anything. Without fully regaining her strength, she gathered Riku’s body in a thick quilt and secured him to the horse she discovered in the graveyard. From there, she went for the Forbidden Lands. She would find the Dormin, and she would make them bring Riku back. 

For those of you that have played Shadow of the Colossus, yes, Hinata has taken the place of Wander. 

It’s a haunting story, but one that I grow obsessed with over and over again. 

This is a really old one shot, but I wrote the final Colossus battle Hinata does before Riku is resurrected.

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

Was it worth it?

All the scars, the sacrifice, the terror of each new encounter and mission given by the shadows… in the end of it all, was it worth it?

Hinata leaned her head back against the cliffside, the warmth from the thin rays of sunlight peeking through the leafy overbrush warmed her paled face. The color in her cheeks had long left. Her fingertips were grayed, her golden eyes dulled. Thin tattoos were etched into her skin, creating intricate patterns that she hadn’t remembered putting there. Each time she saw her reflection in the water, she noticed a new one. She hadn’t said it aloud, but she suspected they were the markings of the Colossi… the ones she killed. 

Her fingers traced the indentations, her mind replaying the final moments of battle when she would thrust her blade through their skulls. Their cries of agony as the life left their eyes, it kept her up at night and plagued her thoughts throughout the day. Fifteen kills... Fifteen screams that would forever haunt her dreams.  

Only one remained… The final Colossus. 

After this, her journey would finally be over. Riku would be given new life, Sam and Velcia would be able to leave in peace, and Hinata would be left behind, paying the price for completing the unthinkable. 

She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes and taking in a long, deep breath. 

This was it. 

There was no turning back. 

Her eyes opened, her hands clenching at her sides against the rocky ground. She had to keep moving. With a pained moan, she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling forward when her legs refused to cooperate. She caught herself against the trunk of a tree, taking in a few deep breaths to regain her strength. There wasn’t much left to her, and she knew as much. Each kill made her weaker, in both mind and body. 

“You can do this,” she whispered, looking towards the crumbled bridge that would have taken her life if it hadn’t been for Nia. “If not for yourself--” she stood back up straight, swaying side to side as she rebalanced. “Then for the others.”

Blowing out a breath, she looked up the cliffside that led up to her final battle. Her dagger appeared in her hand in a wisp of shimmering, blue mist, ready to be thrown. She focused on a pillar that leaned over the top of the cliff and stepped back as she readjusted the blade in her grasp. Sucking in a sharp breath, she ran forward and threw her dagger with practiced ease. It embedded itself into the pillar, cracking the stone. Hinata disappeared in a blue mist reappearing at the dagger’s hilt, where she pulled it out from the pillar as it crumbled away. She scrambled back to be on top of the cliff, slipping and nearly falling with the rocks before she gripped the edge of the cliffside. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths labored and short as she watched the pillar smash against the rocks below. 

She pulled herself back up to safety, struggling to make a maneuver that normally would have been done with ease. Rumbling thunder greeted her as she got back to her feet. Her jaw dropped at the swirling storm ahead of her. Thick, dark clouds surrounded a monstrous tower that went higher than anything Hinata had seen in the forbidden lands. Her eyes followed the building, causing her knees to falter when she saw the familiar golden eyes of a Colossus at the very top. It wasn’t a building, or a tower... It was her final foe. 

Its fiery eyes stared straight through her as it awaited her challenge. Lightning circled its wrists as it reached out towards her with long, straggly arms that sent chills through Hinata’s spine. Blinding light surged from its fingertips, coming straight towards her and forcing her out of the impending panic. She pushed herself to her feet, running to cover behind a tall pillar that stood amongst an old decrepit courtyard Hinata found herself in. The beams of electricity struck the pillar, shaking the ground around her and causing cracks to form in the stone. 

Hinata struggled to stay upright, crying out in fright as everything crumbled around her. She peeked around the pillar, gasping and turning away when the Colossus immediately fired another shot, disintegrating a chunk of the rock and forcing Hinata to lower to her knees to avoid being seen. 

She summoned her dagger into her grasp, taking in a breath before she threw it further into the courtyard and warped to it. The blue mist was still dissipating away from her warp when she threw her dagger again, and then again, each warp bringing her closer to the Colossus and missing its earth shattering shots of electricity. 

The closer she got, the windier it became. As she neared its legs, pelting rain poured around her, making it difficult to see. She was close enough that it could no longer take shots at her, but it instead attempted to smash her with its feet. Her chest heaved as she ran forward, stumbling from the force of its foot slamming against the ground behind her. There had to be a way to climb onto its body, there always was for the others. 

She circled around it, her lungs burning and legs threatening to crumble. Despite it, her body never did fully give out during a battle. It was as if she was given strength for the fight itself as the markings on her body glowed and pulsed adrenaline inside of her, pushing her forward. 

Running between its legs, she found what she was looking for. There was a platform near the ground, one with jagged stone and moss that gave her the perfect grappling point. She climbed on, gripping the moss as the Colossus growled and shook its body in an attempt to throw her off completely. Harsh winds blew past her, nearly blowing her away completely as the Colossus  writhed beneath her. Regardless, she continued upwards, allowing the glow from her tattooed markings to illuminate her way. The light from them melded with the mossy stone that made up the Colossus and it created a thin pathway that led where she needed to go. She followed without hesitation, one step after the next, narrowly avoiding the creature's hands blindly reaching for her behind its back. Rain clouded her vision, but as long as she could see the thin blue trail of light she knew where she had to go. 

She wasn’t sure how long she had been climbing when she reached its waist. There was a thick platform that surrounded it, the last portion of rock before all that remained of its body was fur and blackened skin. Hinata fell to her knees, struggling to remain conscious as her tattoos faded and the adrenaline inside of her reduced to nothing. The corners of her vision went black, blurring even further than the rain was already doing. She couldn’t feel her hands even though they caught her when she fell forward, but she could see the blotches of black blood between her fingers. 

Was that her blood?

Whispers overtook her fading thoughts, filling her entire being as the Dormin shadows spoke to her, “The vitals are in a place thou cannot reach from there…”

Hinata’s hands clenched beneath her as she forced herself to look up. She was in the creature’s blindspot behind its back. The platform was thick enough that it couldn’t feel her presence, but it was still searching for her as it swayed side to side and randomly shot beams of its electricity into the courtyard. 

“Climb higher from that place…” the whispers urged her forward, taking no account of her current state. 

Her tattoos pulsated with light, enticing her with a trickle of adrenaline. She whimpered, attempting to stand. Her arms trembled and gave way beneath her, and she fell back to the platform completely. 

“I can’t,” she cried softly, her voice completely lost in the storm around her. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t…”

 The warmth of light caused her to wince before she opened her eyes. The storm parted, the clouds thinning and allowing rays of sunlight to pour in. Hinata blinked, fighting the urge to reel back from the light and instead gazed directly inside, allowing it to completely envelope her. Time seemed to stand still as she looked out over the forbidden lands. Bright blue beams of light pierced through the sky, each one residing where she defeated a Colossus. In the center of it all was the temple. Its immense and once intimidating size seemed small in comparison to Hinata’s perch. 

That was where everything began… 

Riku laid there, lifeless, patiently awaiting Hinata to finish her quest to set things right. Sam and Velcia watched over him, no doubt agonizing where Hinata disappeared to when they had woken up that morning. She left them at dawn, leaving without a word. This wasn’t their fight. They helped her along the way, but in the end, it wasn’t their burden to bear. 

Hinata pushed herself to stand, her legs quaking and threatening to give under her weight, but they remained strong as she gripped the hilt to the Dormin Blade. It glowed from the sunlight as she unsheathed it and held it high. A thin beam of yellow light penetrated the storm, shining out over the forbidden lands towards the temple. 

She had to give them a sign. 

A sparkle of light greeted her in response from the temple’s entrance. It rose as a pearl of light, spiraling upwards before bursting into a shimmering firework. Hinata breathlessly laughed, her arm losing its strength and falling limp to her side with the Dormin blade loosely in her grasp. 

They saw her. 

The clouds swirled back together, blocking out the sunlight and once again leaving Hinata alone with her quest. Exhaustion coursed through her, melding with throbbing pain from the perseverance she forced herself into over the past month. All of it, every moment led to this and she had to finish what she started. 

No matter the cost. 

“Climb higher from that place…” the whispers prompted her again. 

Hinata nodded, blowing out a breath as she closed her eyes and muttered, “Give me your strength to finish this.” 

She staggered back, gritting her teeth at the sudden rush of energy and adrenaline pumping through her in response. It wasn’t natural and even as the pain in her joints vanished, she knew deep down that it was still there and was only going to be worse when the effects wore off. 

Opening her eyes, she narrowed her gaze towards the arm of the Colossus. She sheathed the Dormin blade and summoned her dagger. Taking in a deep breath, she shook out her arms and switched between the balls of her feet, before sprinting forward. With a final push at the edge of the platform she vaulted off, throwing her dagger in succession and piercing it into the Colossus’ bicep. 

It yowled and grabbed for the dagger, missing Hinata as she landed on its forearm and hung from its blackened and matted fur. She resummoned her dagger, slicing into its arm before it even noticed her there. Its roar was deafening, shaking everything around it and rattling the rocks that made up its body. Hinata swung herself up onto its straightened out arm so it could find her. 

She ran forward, ducking and sliding when its giant hand came reaching for her. She narrowly missed it and reached its shoulder. The fur along its back kept her hidden from sight while it searched for her. Its hands swept blindly, becoming more frantic by the moment as it realized she was nearing its head.

Her hands clung to the fur, pulling her further up towards its neck and the glowing markings on the top of its head that pulsed brighter the closer she got. Her own tattoos shined brilliantly, illuminating her path as they did on her way up. The rain pelted her back, the roars and screams from the creature realizing its impending doom resonated around her. All she focused on was closing the distance as she unsheathed the Dormin blade. Its glow matched the markings on the Colossus, begging to be plunged into the center and finish the ritual.

The whispers in her mind grew in volume, telling her to take the chance, to not hesitate—even though she always did. 

It never got easier to take a life. 

With both hands readied on the hilt, she lifted the blade up and sucked in a breath before striking it down, piercing the softened skin. A scream filled the air. The Colossus reared back its entire body. Hinata grabbed onto a rock protruding from the creature’s head, keeping herself steady as the Colossus thrashed. Blackened blood spewed from the wound, seeping into its fur. Hinata looked away, desperately trying to hang on before a rocky hand wound around her waist. 

She cried out from the tightened grip that only grew firmer as the Colossus realized it had her. It brought her in front of its face, its eyes burning and fingers tightening to cut off her air completely. Hinata stared back into its gaze, the glow of her tattoos fading as the Dormin recognized her fate. She gasped for air, feeling her bones cracking and giving way under the pressure. 

Holding out her hand, she summoned her dagger and hurled it towards its head. It clinked off a rock protruding from its skull, but Hinata warped to it regardless, catching herself on the soaked fur as her dagger fell to the world below. She forced herself to her knees, grabbing the hilt of the blade that was still stabbed inside of the Colossus’ head. One more strike, that’s all it would take. 

“DORMIN!” she cried out, watching her tattoos fill with light as she pulled out the blade and thrusted it back in. 

She got to her feet, putting all of her weight onto the blade until only the hilt remained above. The curdling scream in response caused tears to fill her eyes. Every kill was the same, each one left her empty as darkness covered the Colossus’ lifeless skin. The colossal body went limp, its head falling forward and rather than brace herself, Hinata allowed herself to fall. 

The rain ceased, the clouds parting to reveal the sun as the fire in the Colossus’ eyes went out. Wind whistled past Hinata’s ears as she fell, watching the creature crumble and the dark shadows claim their prize. Her eyes lifted to the sky before closing entirely. Riku’s face appeared in her mind, their last moments together. His smile, the way he always knew what to say when she needed it most… He would have those moments again. Life would breathe back into him… finally. 

If this was to be the end, at least it happened with the knowledge that she finished what she set out to do. 

“It is done…” The whispers filled her being. 

Hinata’s eyes fluttered open, seeing her blackened tears rising in droplets above her as she fell. 

She had done it. 

Black, shadowy tendrils shot out from the Colossus’ remains. Hinata swallowed hard, refusing to watch as they made their way towards her, as they always did. Before she could hit the ground, the shadows pierced her body, momentarily stopping her heart. Her lips parted and black mist poured from her mouth. 

Then everything went black. 

[unhonestlymirror]

I have no idea where people took the idea that Eastern Europeans love to complain because Eastern Europeans actually have an opposite problem: we never talk about our pain, our feelings, our traumatic experience. Actually, we have this unspoken rule of "You are weak if you complain" in Eastern Europe. Not present in russia, because russia is not Eastern Europe, it's a goddamn empire, and they looooooove complaining (bragging actually) about how depressed and melancholic they are. :) So-called "russian soul" or "the toska" or also "Slavic Soul"(???)

[toska-writes]

Clones as random things me and my friends/family have said!

A fic will be out soon I promise!

Fives: “It ends with e, but not the letter the sound.”

Fox: “I’ve been abused a lot” *Nervous laughter* “I’m only partly kidding”

Hardcase: “I dont like the normal pedophiles, I Iike the magic ones. They’re more fun.”

Wolffe: “I’m gonna bark at this kid on the speeder,” *starts barking* “Oh my god that is not a kid.”

Hunter: “I made a mistake”

Wrecker: “There’s steak??”

Rex: *501st doing something stupid* “Im gonna lose all 7 of my marbles if you don’t stop”

Cody: “just because I find a man attractive dosent mean I’m gay” *is definitely gay*

Tech: “Stupid questions get stupid answers.”

Bly: “I cry at least once a year.”

Fox: “I cry every night sooooo….”

Waxer: You’re drinking straight milk?

Boil: *holding two glasses of milk* No the milk just came out as gay

Crosshair: “We probably shouldn’t do that Tech has asthma…….. wait no it’s allergies”

Wolffe: “If I rolled my eyes any harder, I’d go blind.”

Jesse: “I guess his spider senses didn’t kick in” *talking about JFK*

Fives: “No flash photography Echo” *Scolding tone*

Echo: “DiD yOu SeE a FlAsH”

Gregor: *doing finger guns* “Don’t worry this is a squirt gun”

Hardcase: *Shouting in a public place* “My underwear are too big and they’re pulling my pants down!”

Droidbait: “I just wanna play wrestle”

Hevy: *Cracking fingers* “You don’t play wrestle, you wrestle wrestle”

Cody: *talking about Crys* “He’s like the weakest breed of human being, he doesn’t have a middle name and he has scoliosis. Way to double down.”

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

[unrequitedloveletter]

So excited for your fall event!!!! I love your writing so much and I have been WAITING since you first posted about it! Can I please request Oh, this could be my last chance - come up with a title and I’ll write a fic for it for Kaz with the title Toska? (It's a Russian word, the definition is my blog header!) But please for the love of the God's, give it a happy ending! My heart can't take the sadness!!

I'm so excited to spam you with likes for this event!!! ❤️

Toska- Kaz Brekker

Hi!! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get to this! I meant to start looking at fall requests last week but then school sort of took my life over for a bit, and here we are. Again, so sorry it took me some time, but I hope you like the fic nonetheless. 

Fic type- angst with a fluffy ending 

warnings- alcohol/alcohol consumption, a few mentions of blood and open wounds

Toska. An immense ache for nothing and everything all at once. An anguish from the bottom of the heart.

As you read the footnote, you closed the book, casting a scornful glance in the direction of the window to your left. You stood, sighing as you placed the book on top of your dresser. The word was one you knew you’d come to think of often in the days to follow, though such a reality was not yet one you were ready to confront. 

Dread filled your every sense as you heard the oh-so familiar bell toll, signaling nine, as it did every morning. You ran a hand through your hair, steadied your hands against the dresser, pressing your palms flat against it. 

I am calm, you thought as you took a deep breath in. I am relaxed. I do not pine for anyone. You exhaled, taking comfort in the self-said statements even though you knew they were bullshit. 

You went to your bathroom, clutching the sides of the sink and somehow avoiding your own gaze in the small mirror that’d long been mounted to the wall. You turned the water on, keeping it ice cold and cupping your palms under the steady flow that’d begun after a few moments. You splashed the cold water on your face, glowered at yourself as the oh-so familiar feeling settled into your bones as it did every morning, not relenting for a moment, amplifying when your gaze would meet Kaz’s from across the room.

As you exited the bathroom, grabbing a tank top, a decent pair of pants and a black button up shirt to get dressed into, you resented the fact that a word with the definition crammed into the footnote had described the oh-so familiar feeling down to the letter.

You got dressed, pulling a decent pair of combat boots over your feet to finish the look, heading down to the Crow Club with twenty minutes to spare til your shift. You took a spot next to Inej at the bar, ordered a double of brandy. 

“Is he here?” You asked instantly. 

Inej smirked, the guise of her glass of kvas not assisting in keeping it hidden. “No,” she said. “He’s not. Your shift ends thirty minutes before his starts, thanks to Rottys formation of the schedule. You work days, he works nights for the next two weeks.” 

It was enough to make you relieved. “I’ll buy him a drink, then,” you said. Rotty walked past as you spoke, giving you a nod and a grin. 

“A bourbon,” he called to the bartender. You grinned at the familiar face. 

“Make it a triple. Put it on my tab. I’ll grab it tomorrow morning.” You took a sip of your brandy, sighing as you did.

“You’ve never described it,” Inej noted. “You’ve talked about feeling something for him, haven’t you?”

“It’s not what I feel for him,” you responded, wanting to make your way to one of the booths and spend your entire shift sat down, drinking with Inej and eventually Nina, when she found her way down from working at the Ravkan Embassy. 

“It’s what I feel about him. I know I love him, and I know that it’s unrequited, but it--” you stopped yourself short, taking another sip of the brandy. “I don’t know how I can explain it. It’s bone deep, it’s very in-between and it’s--fuck. I can’t even begin to explain how it feels. I just know that it’s very conflictive, annoying and--” you cut yourself off again, slamming the brandy and ordering another double. Inej laughed at the display.

“You’ll find the words someday,” she said, and while you almost believed her, there was some part of you that didn’t. “And even then, not all great loves have been requited.”

You finished your second brandy, and your shift began. The next nine hours were spent behind the bar, making the drinks and taking the tips, making sure nobody that was playing at the tables was cheating. 

When your shift finally came to an end at six, you ended up deciding to stay. You drank with Wylan for a bit, had a few nice talks with a few of the bar regulars and eventually playing a game of Three Man Bramble to pass the time. 

You left at eight, eleven hours after you’d showed for your shift. As you left, Kaz was walking in. Your gazes met for only a moment, a freeze frame in time that lasted ten seconds though you could’ve said it lasted ten hours. 

That feeling returned as you walked out, arms being bitten by the crisp night air of a Ketterdam autumn. You walked to the left, pressing your back against a side wall, and crossing your arms over your chest.

An immense ache for nothing and everything all at once. An anguish from the bottom of the heart. 

The definition of the word toska described the emotion better than you could even fathom trying to. It was an ache that settled into your bones, hollowing them out and making a home of what was left. It ran through your blood, manifested in your tears as you got so overwhelmed with the feeling that you contemplated leaving Ketterdam behind, moving to Ravka or Novyi Zem and starting anew. 

You closed your eyes, ignored the familiar sound of a cane against the sidewalk as you did. You debated hiding, heading home and making it seem like you’d only taken a break to debate grabbing dinner beforehand, but in the end, you chose to do none of that.

“Hi,” Kaz said.

“You should be working.”

“I own the club. Rotty be damned, I’ll set my own hours.” 

You opened your eyes, saw the intensity that lingered in his. 

“You left a book on your dresser this morning,” Kaz said. “Inej noted that you glared scornfully at the window upon reaching the bottom of page 264.” 

“I respect you, Kaz, but if you ever employ my best friend to spy on me again, I’ll kill you,” 

“I have no doubt that your words are the truth,” Kaz said. “And, for the record, it was Inejs idea entirely. She’s worried about you.” 

“Well, it would’ve been wise for you to tell her she could’ve talked to me, if such was the case,” you said. “Fuck it, actually. She would’ve discussed it with me if she were. I’m calling bullshit, Brekker.”

“You dare implicate that I’m a liar?”

“I do,” you said, confirming it further with a nod. “I can’t believe you, Brekker. If you’re the one with the concerns, just fucking say it, okay?” 

“You make it sound a bloody easier than it is,” Kaz said. 

Nothing and everything all at once. 

“I refuse,” you said, moving to abandon Kaz to the small alleyway that he’d found you in. “I can’t keep doing this. I need to leave.”

“Keep doing what?” Kaz asked. “And, even if you were to leave, where would you go, Y/N?” 

You turned to face him harshly. “This!” You shouted. “I can’t keep loving you, Kaz Brekker. It’s turned out to be the precise opposite of a good idea, and I can’t fucking do it anymore.” The ache settled in your bones, the anguish dragging your heart down through your body til it rested at your feet. 

An anguish from the bottom of the heart. 

“And where will you go?”

“Ravka, Novyi Zem, Shu Han, the Wandering Isle. As far as I’m concerned, my options are practically limitless,” you responded. “I don’t care where I end up, Kaz. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t look at you and--and--”

“And what?” 

You sighed, realizing that going to Fifth Harbor, finding a cafe to sit and simmer in--or perhaps sitting on the docks--was a better idea than it was to return to the Slat.

“And, whenever it is that you find yourself in the Slat, go to my room. Grab the book Inej spotted on my dresser. On page 264, you’ll find a series of words in the footnote. The one you’re looking for is toska. It encompasses exactly how I feel when I’m around you, Kaz. Only after you’ve read the word, understood what it meant, will we come even the slightest bit closer to understanding each other.” 

With the words, you walked off, leaving Kaz standing in the alleyway.

-

A few days later, the book was gone. You couldn’t find it, and you didn’t much want to bother with looking. You were too distracted with packing, anyway, and booking a ticket to Ravka on a boat. You’d find some good employment there, give up the criminal life to which you’d grown so accustomed. 

But, on the final full day you’d spend in Ketterdam, you woke to a note on your dresser. You recognized the handwriting as Kaz’s, and that made whatever wound had existed, the one that’d begun the slow process of healing, reopen. It  tore itself apart, blood flowing from it like water flowed from a tap.

Fifth Harbor. Berth 26. Midnight. 

You scoffed, crumpling the letter and tossing it into the small bin next to your dresser. You got dressed in an old dark grey cableknit jumper and a decent pair of trousers, plus the pair of combat boots you wore everyday, day in and day out. 

You went to your final shift at the Crow Club, leaving just shy of midnight after deciding that you were fine working a double, having started just shy of eight bells that morning. You thanked Rotty as he passed you another note and a to-go cup filled with Kaelish coffee. 

toska can be defined as an immense ache for nothing and everything all at once. An anguish from the bottom of the heart. 

You grinned, scoffing at the note before tucking it into your pants pocket. The weather in Ketterdam bit at your exposed hands, your face, and your neck as you walked, air having grown rather crisp as the clubs filled and the hotels emptied. 

You moved to Fifth Harbor, finding Berth 26 and walking to end of the dock attached to it. You let your gaze move to the boats as they docked, as they unloaded passengers or reloaded them. You didn’t move a muscle as the familiar sound of Kaz’s cane meeting the grass and then the wood met your ears.

“I’m sorry,”

You scoffed. “Try not to pull a muscle, Kaz. I don’t need your apologies.” 

“You might not need them, but they’re what you deserve. I’m sorry that I am difficult to love.”

“You’re not,” you said. “Not in the ways you think you are. I don’t care that I can’t kiss you or hold your hand, really. That’s not what matters to me, Kaz. It doesn’t matter in the slightest.” 

“Then what is it?”

“I felt like you didn’t care for the longest time, and whenever I would look at you, the--” you cut yourself off. “Toska. That sums it up. I long both for nothing and for everything, and it hurts. Bloody hell, does it feel like an open wound.” You laughed a little bit, finding the humor in it as Kaz joined you at the edge of the docks.  

“Stay,” he said. 

“Give me one reason,” you said, not knowing what the reason could possibly be. Kaz would never ask you to stay for his own sake. That wasn’t who he was, how he functioned. There had to be a reason, likely that your spot at the Crow Club would be difficult to replace, even if you were a full time bartender and such a statement was bullshit when one looked at how many people wanted to bartend in the Barrel. 

“Just stay, Y/N.”

“I will not stay without probable cause.” In that moment, you knew you’d perfected the art of lying, because you would. Kaz’s asking you to stay had made you rethink leaving, and he’d barely said it a minute prior. 

“I can replace your job at the Crow Club, I can give away your room at the Slat,” he said. You blinked. It was a total 180 from what you’d expected him to say. “I would prefer if I didn’t have to, though.”

Silence fell across your shoulders, weighing you down as it did. Minutes passed as though they were hours, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and then suddenly, ten minutes had gone by and you realized that, throughout your entire interaction, you’d not so much as looked at him. 

You finally turned your head, only to find that Kaz had done the same. Your gazes met.

“I simply cannot fathom a day of my life without you in it, Y/N. That is why I would prefer it if you stayed. I could give your job to someone else, give your room to someone else, but it would hurt to do so, because in doing so, I would be forced to acknowledge that you left. In the final day before your departure, I find it hard to do so even still.” 

You grinned, turning to leave. “Meet me at the Kooperom no later than nine bells this morning,” you said as the bell for midnight rang through the city.

“Your boat leaves at half past eight.” 

“If I refund my ticket before quarter past, I get 100 kruge and the chance to buy you breakfast.” With the words, you walked off, heading back through Fifth Harbor and to the Slat, leaving Kaz behind.

-

At nine bells, Kaz joined you in a booth near the back. He ordered whiskey and waffles, and you ordered brandy and waffles. For the next hour and a half, the two of you engaged in conversation.

At some point, you realized that the familiar feeling, the nothing and everything, had largely subsided. As you looked at Kaz, love took it over almost completely. 

[ignify-caligo]

(Extremely) Short descriptions of the characters;

Hussar: A freshly promoted brigadier general within the Polish special force unit GROM, who has close relations with Task Force 141, especially concerning a bucket hat wearing someone.

Toska: Former subordinate of Commander Phillip Graves, taken under “custody” by TF141 and a victim of the MK ULTRA process.

Florian: A young man from Berlin, who ends up in Moscow trying to find out what happened to his father and the people he took to discover what or who used nuclear missiles in the assumed to be dead city.

Caron: Assumed to be dead but isn’t sibling to the scoia’tael leader Eldain.

Marceau: A Katakan pup trying to blend in with the humans after running away from his abusive home, who ends up in the lion's den in the form of the Blue Stripes.

[blackcr0wking]

Karlach gazing at Toska while they talked to Gale was killing me

[asperss]

time to get that painting I'm doing for my bassoon teacher for Christmas done... gonna try doing the rough draft in procreate, print that for reference and do the final on canvas. fingers crossed

[toskarin]

heey toska, you've talked about mabinogi in the past so i gotta ask: did you ever rock the rin cosplay and pet illya?

I actually missed the event, but I did have a cosplay from it (my character was always Illya, so the canon outfit helped complete the getup)