#also if you want to continue an ask to a thread

[koolades-world]

have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!

i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!

this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3

birthmarks

"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.

"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.

"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.

"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.

"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.

"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.

"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.

"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.

"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.

"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.

"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.

"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."

You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.

"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.

"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.

"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.

"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.

"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.

"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.

"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."

"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.

"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.

"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.

"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.

"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.

"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.

Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"

[knottedhearts]

Almost: B.E

Summary: Billie and you were going to take things further. Read to find out what happens.

<>

The atmosphere in Billie’s room was different tonight—charged, electric. The low hum of music playing softly in the background barely reached your ears as you and Billie found yourselves sitting close on her bed, a playful glint in both of your eyes. There had been teasing remarks, flirtatious smiles, and little touches that made your heart race with anticipation.

Billie leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your cheek, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. Her eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the weight of her gaze, soft yet intense. You leaned in, closing the space between you until your lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. It was gentle at first, hesitant, as if neither of you could believe this moment was actually happening.

Her lips were soft, but her touch was assertive as her hand slid up to cup your face, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the heat rise between you both. The world outside the room seemed to disappear, leaving only the quiet, intimate space you shared. Billie’s fingers threaded through your hair, and your heart pounded in your chest as she leaned in closer, her body brushing against yours.

As the kiss continued, your hands found their way to her waist, pulling her even closer. Billie paused, her lips just inches from yours, and for a moment, you both caught your breath. Her voice was a soft whisper against your skin.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her forehead resting gently against yours, searching your eyes with a vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "Do you want this?"

It was a question filled with care, her need for your consent evident in the way she held herself, poised and gentle but eager. You could feel the sincerity in her words, and in that moment, the tenderness of the situation overwhelmed you.

"Yes," you replied softly, your hand tracing her jawline. "I want this. I want you."

With that, her lips met yours again, more urgent now, the heat between you two building, each kiss more passionate than the last. Her body pressed against yours, and you could feel the closeness intensify, but just as things were about to get even more intimate, the sound of the door creaking open shattered the moment.

“Billie, you—”

It was Finneas, Billie’s brother, standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and holding a laundry basket. His gaze flicked between the two of you, and the intensity that had filled the room evaporated in an instant.

Billie quickly pulled away, her face flushed, and you both froze, unsure of how to react. She looked at you with an apologetic smile, but there was also a spark in her eyes, the connection between you still palpable, even in the awkward silence.

“Uh, sorry… didn’t mean to interrupt,” Finneas mumbled, his face a mixture of surprise and amusement, before quickly backing out and closing the door behind him.

Billie let out a breath, half-laughing, half-sighing, as she sank back onto the bed beside you. You both sat there, the weight of the moment hanging in the air, unspoken but understood.

<>

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

(part ???? of this ongoing thread/universe/au?)

(buckle yourselves in this is a long one!) (will be two parts as my brain wouldn't stop coming up with more nonsense as per usual)

*not long after telemachus met his dad's enemy 'friend', the god of the seas poseidon, for the first time*

*poseidon has fled (gods don't flee they briskly walk away) left to go back to the sea*

*odysseus, penelope & telemachus are having dinner*

telemachus: *smiling while retelling the meeting to penelope* -and he was so nice! father is so lucky to have him as his friend-

odysseus: *slightly chokes on his food at poseidon still being referred to as his friend*

telemachus: *looks at odysseus* -father are you ok?

penelope: *who knows odysseus' real relationship with poseidon*

penelope: *hasn't had much entertainment in 20 years*

penelope: *wants to stir the pot some more* ignore your father my dear, please continue telling me all about his friend

odysseus: *looking at penelope*

odysseus: *under his breath* penelope why?

*dinner continues with poseidon being the subject much to odysseus' dismay*

telemachus: *enjoying the family dinner*

telemachus: *gasps*

odysseus & penelope: ???

telemachus: we should have a big family dinner! father you can invite lord poseidon! i'll invite athena!

telemachus: *happy with himself for thinking of such an idea*

odysseus: *doesn't want to shoot down his son's idea, but also DOES NOT WANT TO SPEND ANY MORE TIME WITH POSEIDON*

odysseus: *scrambling for an excuse* son, he's a god and surely is very busy an-

penelope: *with a devilish grin* -and i'm sure will make time for his friend! what a wonderful idea telemachus! i'll let the palace cooks know!

penelope: off you go dear husband~ go and let your friend know~

odysseus: it's evenin-

penelope: first thing tomorrow then!

odysseus: *sighs in resignment* yes my love

telemachus: great! i can't wait to tell athena-

*athena appearing out of nowhere*

athena: i heard my name and came.

odysseus: athena?!

telemachus: athena!!

penelope: oh lady athena!

athena: *smiling whilst looking at telemachus* what would you like to ask me telemachus?

telemachus: oh yeah! we're going to have a big family dinner! father just needs to invite his god friend-

athena: *confused as she's odysseus' god friend* but i-

odysseus: *panicked* wait-

telemachus: -lord poseidon!

athena: *wide-eyed in shock*

athena: *slow blinking* did you say odysseus' friend is p-po- my uncle?!

telemachus: *nods and smiles* yeah, i thought you knew!

odysseus: *wondering how he'll explain this whole situation to athena*

odysseus: *under his breath* well now she knows...

penelope: *laughs to herself*

(to be continued!)

(okay i know i said in the reply to the ask i'd post the dinner scene, but my brain wouldn't stop throwing stuff for me to add in the run up to dinner. so there WILL be the dinner scene, but that will be in another post... tomorrow? -depending on how my work day goes-)

[wolvietxt]

𝓒LOSER 𝓣HAN 𝓑EFORE !

pairing : daryl dixon x female!reader warnings : implied age gap, crybaby!reader, he’s a bit ooc, overprotective rick wc : 2.1k a/n : i’m seriously debating writing for carol i want her so bad also can u tell i’m in love with rick

it had been a week since the group returned from their last supply run. as usual, you'd found a quiet spot in the prison, back against the cold concrete wall, a pencil in hand, and your notebook resting on your knees. with each sketch, you could lose yourself in the lines and shapes, letting the chaos of the outside world fall away.

daryl had seen you tucked away like this more times than he could count. he often found himself stealing glances in your direction when he thought you weren’t looking, the way you focused intently on your drawings. there was something calming about it, a slice of peace in a world that had long since forgotten the meaning of the word. he liked that you managed to create beauty in such a bleak place, and it stirred something warm inside him.

as he gathered supplies for the next run, he couldn’t help but feel a pull toward you, the way a moth is drawn to a flame. but even as that warmth spread through him, a thread of hesitation tugged at his heart. he didn't know how to approach you without sounding awkward or making things weird. you were sunshine to him, and he feared his often grumpy demeanour would cast a shadow over your light. but he was trying, to be kinder, especially around you. the group made it easy, at this point, rick was almost like a brother to him, and carol a best friend. to his eventual dismay, this meant she knew a whole lot about him and could read him like a book.

“hey, daryl,” carol’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. she had a knowing look in her eyes, the kind that made him shift uncomfortably. “you’ve been staring at her again.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. “i ain’t staring.”

“sure,” she said with a teasing smirk. “just like you weren’t the one who picked up that flower for her last week.” 

that had been a mistake. you had looked so happy, your smile lighting up the whole room. and damn if that hadn’t made him feel all sorts of things. but now, he just shrugged it off. “she’s a good kid. just… i dunno, wanted to do something nice.”

carol raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on her face. “you’re not fooling anyone, daryl. you care about her.”

“i care about everyone in this group,” he replied a bit too quickly, his tone defensive. 

“sure you do,” she said, walking away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

he watched you again, how you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, completely absorbed in your art. he wanted to be closer to you, to show you how much you meant to him. but the words always stuck in his throat, trapped beneath layers of his own insecurity. he knew he wasn’t good enough for you, but he wanted you like he never had before.

later that day, the group gathered to discuss the next supply run. rick, as usual, was leading the meeting, his face drawn and serious. “we need to get more medical supplies. that last run barely did us any good.”

you were sitting under carol while she toyed with your hair, comfortable inbetween her legs while she was sitting on one of the beds. flipping through your notebook, a page with a half-finished drawing of a sunset catching your eye. you liked how it reminded you of the days before everything fell apart. 

“we’ll need someone to stay back and guard the place,” rick continued, looking around the room. “any volunteers?”

before you could even think, carol spoke up. “i’ll stay. i can help keep watch.” 

“me too,” you chimed in, glancing at daryl, who met your gaze for a brief moment. there was something in his eyes that made your heart race, but you quickly looked away, focusing on the conversation at hand, hoping the heat rising to your cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

“you sure?” rick asked, his voice skeptical. “it’s dangerous out there.”

“we’re capable,” you said firmly. “if something happens, we can handle it.” 

daryl watched the exchange, his brow furrowing as he weighed the risks. he knew you were strong, but he also hated the idea of you being out there alone. he couldn’t shake the need to protect you, but he didn’t want to stifle your independence either. 

“i’ll - i’ll be careful, i swear” you added, sensing the tension in the room, especially from daryl.

after the meeting, the group dispersed, but daryl lingered behind, gathering his gear. he overheard rick talking to carol, their voices low and serious. 

“she’s too inexperienced,” rick said, frustration lacing his words. “what if something happens? we can’t afford to lose anyone.”

rick loved you, he really did, as much as everyone else in the group, but he also had a tendency to worry, especially about you. you weren’t new to the group, you’d been with them since the camp, same time as rick. rick had found you limping down the road, a herd of walkers following not far behind you. he’d scooped you up as quick as he could, and since then, he’d always felt rather overprotective of you. your naivety often put him on edge, his worst nightmare would be you ending up in a bad situation because you were often too trusting of others. you didn’t know what kinda guy he could’ve been when he’d picked you up in the middle of the street, but you didn’t struggle at all. he cared for you like a father.

“she’s tougher than you think, rick,” carol replied. “but she’s also got a soft side. you know that. don’t underestimate her.” 

“it’s not that,” rick snapped. “it’s just… i mean she’s irresponsible, she’s - ” 

you walked past them, catching the tail end of the conversation. your heart sank, unsure of what to make of it. you wanted to prove yourself, but hearing rick’s concerns made you doubt your abilities. you ducked into a hallway, hoping to clear your head.

daryl noticed you walking away, and for a moment, he considered following you. he wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay. but then he thought about the conversation with rick, and fear gripped him. he didn’t want to sound like a worried parent, but you were really important to him. 

he took a deep breath and made his decision. he would go on the run with the others, but he would make sure to bring back something special for you. maybe that would lighten your mood.

as the day wore on, the run took longer than expected. they fought off a few walkers and scrounged around for supplies, but daryl’s mind was elsewhere. he kept thinking about you, how you had looked when rick was questioning your abilities. the way your smile faltered, and your confidence seemed to waver. he hated that rick could make you feel small, even if he didn’t mean to. 

when they finally returned, daryl felt a rush of relief to see you sitting in the same spot, sketching in your notebook. the others were busy unpacking supplies, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. your brow was furrowed in concentration, and it made him want to protect that focus, to shield you from any negativity.

“hey,” he said softly, approaching you cautiously. 

you looked up, surprised, and your face lit up with a smile that made his heart skip. “hey, daryl! how was the run?”

“it was alright,” he replied, his gaze flicking to your notebook. “what’re you working on, sweetheart?”

“just a little something,” you said, your cheeks flushing. “nothing special.”

he leaned over, trying to sneak a peek at your drawing. “looks pretty damn special to me.”

you turned the notebook slightly, revealing a sketch of the prison with a sunset in the background. it was beautiful, full of vibrant colours, and it made his heart swell. “y’re real talented, you know that?”

“thanks, daryl.” you replied, a hint of shyness in your tone. “it’s just a hobby.”

“hobbies are important,” he said, feeling bold. “keeps you sane in this crazy world.”

“what about you?” you asked, curious. “do you have any hobbies?”

he scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “hunting, i guess. and, uh, taking care of my bike.” 

“i’d love to see your bike sometime,” you said, your eyes sparkling with interest.

“yeah?” he said, surprised. “i could show you. it’s not much, but it gets me around.” 

“i’m sure it’s more than that,” you replied, smiling softly. 

“here,” he said, shifting the conversation. “um, i got you something.” he pulled out a worn paperback book from his backpack, the edges frayed but the cover intact. “found it on the run. thought you might like it.”

your eyes widened, and you took the book from him gently. “oh daryl, you didn’t have to…”

“i wanted to,” he said, a hint of shyness in his voice too. “thought you could use a new read.”

you opened the book and gasped, looking up at him with a mix of disbelief and joy. “this is one of my favourite authors!”

“really?” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “figured you might like it.” 

you hugged the book to your chest, your eyes brimming with tears. “thank you so much!”

“ain’t no big deal,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the warmth in his cheeks betrayed him. “now don’t you go cryin’ on me.”

you laughed through your tears, and he felt his heart swell. “sorry, i can’t help it. ‘s just really thoughtful of you. you always do nice things for me.” you said, giggling through the tears now streaming down your face. you didn’t really know why you were crying, but you hoped daryl didn’t think too much about it.

“i just think you deserve it,” he replied, shrugging but unable to hide his smile. 

“you’re really sweet,” you said, wiping a tear from your cheek. 

“ain’t sweet,” he teased. “you’re just a damn crybaby.” 

you playfully nudged him, and he chuckled, feeling the tension that had built throughout the day start to dissipate. “you really like it?” he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t messed up.

“i love it,” you said sincerely. “and it’s just what i needed. i’ve never read this one before. ‘m gonna start reading it tonight.” 

“good,” he said, his heart racing. “maybe we could, uh, read together sometime.”

“i’d love that,” you replied, your smile brightening even more. 

he was struck by the way you looked at him, your eyes shining with genuine happiness. it made him feel brave, like maybe he could push past the awkwardness. “i mean, if you want to.”

“i definitely do,” you said, your voice soft. 

the two of you stood there, the world around you fading as the moment stretched on. daryl felt a surge of affection that he could no longer contain. he stepped closer, the heat radiating off you making him bold. 

“can i?” he asked, his voice low, leaning in slightly. 

you nodded, and without thinking, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours. it was soft and tentative at first, but then you melted into him, deepening the kiss. the warmth spread through him, and he felt like he was finally letting go of everything that had held him back.

when you pulled away, breathless, he couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “damn, you really are a crybaby.”

you giggled, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “maybe just a little.”

“well, if you keep bein’ so sweet, i might just have to keep makin’ you cry,” he teased, unable to hide his grin.

“i wouldn’t mind that,” you said, biting your lip, a shy smile creeping onto your face.

“good,” he said, his heart racing. “because i ain’t goin’ anywhere. you’re stuck with me.” 

“i wouldn’t want it any other way,” you replied, feeling a sense of peace settle between you two.

as the night drew closer, the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories and laughter, the world outside fading away. daryl felt a lightness in his chest that he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and he knew that no matter what came next, he wanted to face it with you by his side.

🌀 daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[unladielike]

    Vivian nods away in agreement for to her, having a considerable amount of burgers without any soda didn't seem like something that's really heard of... and yeah, perhaps there were way better palate cleansers to be had than carbonated drinks, but as this was a food truck and not a restaurant, the selection of beverages they could realistically order would understandably be a bit limited.

    "Welp, I wouldn't go as far as to say I necessarily understand 'everything', per say, but yeah, once you manage to live through twenty one years on this planet, you start discovering some pretty basic stuff... like, for instance, how the human body gets thirsty if you consume salty snacks yet do not occasionally bring yourself to drink water throughout regular intervals," Vivian states. Granted, most would consider that to be 'common sense', but as per usual, she frames it more like an academic study than redundant knowledge nobody would truly bother disputing.

    Either way, it doesn't take long for her bespectacled gaze to soon settle on the drinks menu, which was situated to the right side corner of the food truck... and to her delight, Coke was listed as one of the drinks that were available to order, causing her to clasp both hands together.

    "Ooh, what do you know?! They do indeed have Coke! No Fanta to be seen, though... then again, at least we aren't forced to choose Pepsi, which is the mid alternative to Coke," Vivian pipes up. Of course, after the final customer leaves, she'll then finally pull out her wallet before turning to Mizumachi. "Alright, so to summarize super quickly... we want ten teriyaki cheese burgers with two cokes?" Vivian repeats in order to ensure they were on the same page.

[水]

“Bia is so smart! I love it!”

Who knew there was such a place so close by? He hadn’t found the place yet, and who knew how long it would’ve taken before he found it. The food truck  now had a new fan who was bound to visit pretty often any time homesickness struck him- which was surprisingly often if he was left alone with his thoughts.

The jock laughs at the comment that the food truck wasn’t going anywhere. It wouldn’t sprout legs and run away—but it had wheels, didn’t it? Couldn’t it drive off?

“Yeah! A Teriyaki cheese burger sounds great!”

Sometimes, he’d go into restaurants and find that the food was very different compared to his expectations, but if going by the smell alone, he was sure that he was going to like the burgers here. He normally wasn’t that picky when it came to food anyways, but still! It was a kind of betrayal for someone who craved familiar tastes to walk into a restaurant and walk out of it confused over what he’d actually eaten. He learned the hard way that many ‘fusion’ places weren’t… the best. Guess not every fusion was stellar and epic. Sorry Goku and Vegeta.

“You really understand everything, huh? You’re right! If you’re going to be eating a lot of burgers anyways, ya gotta drink something that pairs well with it. Coke is the best! Fanta is also good, though.”

If you were going to be eating your fill of burgers, was there really any real difference if you chose to drink soda over water? The difference was minor at that point, so there was no point in picking straws. Water was his preferred drink for regular hours, but if he was doing rigorous exercise, then he would reach for sports drinks to replenish his electrolytes. Soda was for whenever he was treating himself to some junk food. Might as well go big or go home (and eat healthier).

[legionofshaza]

In the shadows of home

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

☆A Gwynriel fanfic for Azriel week Day 3☆

@azrielappreciationweek

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Azriel stood at the edge of the House of Wind, the night breeze threading through his dark hair. His wings, usually tucked in tight to his body, hung loosely behind him. The stars above Velaris were bright tonight, a canopy of light that made the city beneath them glow like a well-kept secret. It should have been peaceful, but inside, a storm raged.

Belonging. He had never truly known what it felt like. He’d been brought into the Night Court as a broken child, barely more than a weapon-in-the-making. His hands, scarred from years of torture in the Hewn City, still ached sometimes as if the shadows he commanded whispered memories of his past.

To the outside world, Azriel was a Spymaster, a shadow-cloaked figure of fear and control. But beneath that title was something far more fragile: a man who had never felt at home in his own skin.

The shadows that swirled around him now were a comfort, his ever-present companions. They murmured of secrets, of dangers lurking beyond the city, but they also offered something else. Solace. The knowledge that he wasn’t truly alone, even if it felt that way sometimes.

“Azriel.”

He didn’t need to turn to know it was Gwyn. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air, quiet yet unwavering. She had a knack for sneaking up on him, something that might have irritated anyone else. But for Azriel, it was a welcome distraction.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, coming to stand beside him, her gaze fixed on the city below.

He shook his head. “I don’t sleep much.”

Gwyn chuckled softly, a sound that made his chest tighten. “I’ve noticed.”

There was a long silence between them, the kind Azriel found strangely comfortable. Gwyn didn’t force conversation, didn’t pry into the depths of his thoughts unless he wanted to share. It was one of the many reasons he found himself drawn to her.

“I can feel it,” she said, her voice soft, as if she were afraid to shatter the stillness. “That restlessness inside you.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t sure how to. How could he explain a lifetime of feeling like he didn’t fit anywhere? That even with his brothers—Cassian and Rhys, the only family he’d ever known—there was a part of him that was always separate, always watching from the outside.

“I don’t… belong,” he admitted quietly, the words barely a whisper. It wasn’t something he’d ever said aloud before, not even to himself.

Gwyn’s brow furrowed as she turned to face him. “What makes you say that?”

Azriel’s shadows stirred, wrapping tighter around him as if to shield him from the vulnerability he’d just exposed. “I’m not like them. Cassian, Rhys—they were always meant to be part of something bigger. I was just a tool, something to be used and discarded.”

“Azriel,” Gwyn said, her voice firm now, but not unkind. “You’re not just a weapon. You’re more than that.”

He looked at her then, his hazel eyes meeting her steady gaze. She didn’t flinch, didn’t look away like so many others did. She held his gaze, her expression unwavering.

“You think you don’t belong because of what you’ve done, because of what you are,” she continued. “But none of that changes the fact that you do belong. Maybe not in the way you think, but you’re part of this court. You’re part of Rhys and Cassian’s family. And… you’re part of mine, too.”

Azriel’s heart gave a strange lurch at her words. Family. It was a concept he’d always struggled with, even though Rhys and Cassian had never treated him as anything less than a brother. And yet, hearing Gwyn say it, hearing the quiet certainty in her voice—it struck something deep inside him.

“How do you know?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended. “How can you be sure?”

Gwyn smiled, and it was like a sunrise breaking through the clouds. “Because I know what it’s like to feel lost. To feel like you don’t have a place in the world. But I also know that you don’t have to belong to some grand destiny to matter. Sometimes, belonging is just… being with the people who make you feel like you’re enough.”

Azriel looked away, his jaw clenched as he struggled to swallow the knot of emotion in his throat. The words she spoke were so simple, yet they cut through him with the force of truth.

He had always been searching for a place to belong, a purpose that went beyond being a weapon in someone else’s war. But maybe Gwyn was right. Maybe belonging wasn’t about destiny or titles or being something more. Maybe it was about the quiet moments like this, standing on the edge of the world with someone who saw him for who he truly was—and didn’t turn away.

The shadows around him calmed, as if they too had found a measure of peace in her words. And for the first time in a long while, Azriel felt a flicker of something that had always been elusive to him.

Home.

He glanced at Gwyn, who was still gazing at the stars, her face lit by their soft glow. Without thinking, he reached out, his scarred hand brushing hers. She looked at him, surprised, but then her expression softened, and she laced her fingers with his.

“You belong here, Azriel,” she whispered. “With me.”

Azriel tightened his grip, grounding himself in the warmth of her touch. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe it.

In the shadows, he had found his place. But with Gwyn, he had found where he truly belonged.

⋇⋆✦ End✦⋆⋇　

[nyf-archive]

also !!! my thread tracker IS up to date as of the last few minutes lol !! everything that i have tracked is everything that i'm actively participating in! this is in no offense to anyone who isn't tagged, this is just simply my tracker for the threads that i have high muse activity for! it helps keep me organized and my stress levels low! if you have any questions, concerns, or comments, feel free to send me a message !

[whoatemyshoe]

[hantasero-cellophane]

no. i've made my decision. you're staying here.

@denki--kami

@denki--kami

“It’s not that serious, I’ll be okay.” Hanta chuckles before wincing and putting a hand over the bandages around his rib cage “probably..”

[truecorvid]

ohhhhh my godddddd

[madeimpact]

❝ JEEZ! Finally! I really need to grab more bug spray next time we're close to a shop. What did I look like to that moth, anyway? A lamp — ❞

Glances two paces over at the other guys surrounding Noct and his salad.

❝ — Whoa. What did you guys DO to him??? ❞

[draconscious]

‘ it’s six am. it’s time to train. ’

SPARRING STARTERS / accepting!

As expected, Clair is already prepared when Serena comes knocking at her door. The rising Kalosian sun filters through mostly-drawn curtains to reveal the dragon tamer's temporary room--humble living, to say the least--but when Clair is dialed in like this, nothing else seems to matter, especially comfort. Half-opened books on Mega Evolution lay sprawled out on the room's low table, their spines arched towards the ceiling--she could barely sleep last night, but Serena doesn't need to know that. Her friend, her teacher.

Teacher. A younger Clair would have thrown a tantrum at the very notion of being instructed by someone younger than her, but again, that focus, alongside the mature wisdom that only comes with experience, help to dull any indignation. Pride swallowed--for now, she's prepared to learn.

And so, Clair keeps Serena waiting just seconds before opening her door. With her cape thrown over her shoulder, gloved fingers intertwined and cracked, and a hungry, eager mind, she offers her host a small nod.

"Let's get started, then."

[monmuses]

Tweek: ❛ oh god. please tell me you haven’t just heard me talk to myself. ❜ (//for pip)

🐝  *  ―  𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 (ALWAYS Accepting!)

"...was I not supposed to?" Rather surprising, but he was keen on hearing people's conversations, loud or not. With how often he never was truly belonging to a certain group, he was a lurker. He could keep himself occupied at any time, keeping himself quiet and not often blabbering and bothering anyone.

However, he seemed to tilt his head at Tweek's itching worries. Did he say something that he was not supposed to hear? "It... is Tweek, am I correct? Why, I would not have heard anything wrong if I suspected it to be! You seem quite... what's the word, bothered? Uneasy? Is something the matter?"

[doomxdriven]

didn't you see my text? - lets go with ama!

[insert prompt meme here]

Amagai goes to say something, but winds up hanging there for a few moments in silence, mouth agape, looking a tad surprised as he felt around for his Denreishinki-- the smartphone like devices most Shinigami carried these days-- going through every pocket and crevice of his uniform in the search...

"Oh," Amagai finally says, before clearing his throat, "I know why I didn't see your text."

Arms crossed, with naught a communication device in sight, Amagai smiles widely and shamelessly declares, "I lost my Denreishinki; I must have dropped it early on during that run to the World of the Living!"

Amagai had gotten into a scuffle with a few hollows, and now that he thought about it, it wasn't far fetched to think the Denreishinki got knocked out of his pocket during.

Most other Captain's would have taken far more precaution with an important piece of technology like their Denreishinki (considering its use and the crucial information stored on it), but Amagai wasn't like most other Captains, as Autumn was likely well aware by now....

"We should probably go look for it," Amagai says with an easygoing yet sly air about him, throwing in 'we' instead of 'I', because of course he was going to have Autumn help him in that search, "but first tell me, what was the message you sent, it wasn't bad was it?" // @equiilux

[embervoices]

A very useful thread on Bluesky:

(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬ November 8, 2024

This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.

My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.

FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.

The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”

The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.

If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.

Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.

Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!

SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.

Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.

As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.

As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)

If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.

Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.

Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.

One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.

FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.

In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.

He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.

The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.

OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:

It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.

We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something

‪Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.

[zoomingupthathilla]

He poked his head into Max's room. The rest of the trailer was empty, the sun had long since gone down. Everything was far too eerily quiet which only made Billy's anxiety seem to ramp up. "Maxine. You got a minute?"

//we sorta plotted a thing, and by "plotted" we were like "wouldn't it be great if.." so here it is! I'm doing the thing!!

Max was laying upside down, half of her body off of the side of the bed. A mass of red curls touching the floor. It had been one of those days, she was just existing. Trying to get out of the slump that she was in. Playing with the wheel to one of her boards. Seeing how fast she can get it to spin...

Hearing his voice, she peeked up at him cautiously. Nothing good came when her full name was used. "I may have a few." She teased, trying to cut through the thick cloud of tension that was quickly forming.

Finally sitting up, as her curiosity got the best of her..