#I use to do that with my sister so I know it can be done

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Before

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Being in love with Azriel wasn’t hard; you’d been doing it for over 400 years. But things were changing, and soon, you would be changed. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. I know I'm like attacking everyone with this random fic I just started but it's getting my writing muse going and it's exciting!! Enjoy :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

“Do you think that’s the best idea, Az?” you promoted, cringing a bit as you hid your face in the racks of clothing along the store’s edge. “I mean, Rhys seemed pretty adamant that you… I don’t know—not pursue her?”

Azriel tsked, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he passed behind you. You turned your wings in. “Rhys doesn’t understand. He only understands the pull of the mating bond and nothing else. But Elain doesn’t want Lucien, I’m sure of it.” 

Something twisted in your gut. “Okay, I believe you. But what if—” 

“Please, y/n, something else now. My failure of a love life must bore you.” 

You bit into your lip as you contemplated ignoring his request. He had done nothing but speak of Elain since you started your outing this evening, but the moment you questioned the feasibility of his plans, the topic was suddenly moot. 

“I was just going to ask,” you broached, turning from the clothes to face the shadowsinger. A necklace display enthralled him. “What if you found your mate? What then?” 

Azriel broke his gaze with the jewels. “That wouldn’t matter. This is different, y/n. You must see that. Three sisters for three brothers. It’s as if it’s a test of fate.” 

“Right,” you nodded, fighting off the urge to throw up or scream. “Destiny, maybe.” 

Azriel’s responding grin did little to soothe you. “Exactly. I knew you would understand. You’ve always understood me.” 

You offered a weak smile, biting the inside of your cheek as he ushered you out of the store with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

This was getting more and more difficult to tamp down. 

When Azriel first became enamored by Elain, you thought it temporary. He had been chasing after Mor for so long; that wouldn’t be trumped by a woman he just met. And you were used to the way he pined for Mor. It hurt, but it was familiar. 

Azriel never seemed to think he had a real chance with her. 

But with Elain—with Elain, he figured he had a fighting chance. He saw the success of his brothers and felt that this was his chance at happiness. He never looked at you the way he looked at her, and he had had so many opportunities to do so. 

He never spoke of you the way he spoke of her. 

This hurt more than it did with Mor.

But still, Azriel was your family, so you pretended that it didn’t. You sat back and listened as he spoke of his grand plans to court her and sneak past Rhysand. You tried your best to provide good input and smiled when you were supposed to. 

You loved him from afar. 

He loved you differently. 

It wasn’t his fault.

“Did Rhys ever say what he wanted to talk to you about?” Azriel asked after a short stint of silence, the sounds of your steps along the streets of Velaris rhythmic and soothing. 

You blinked and focused your attention back on Azriel. “Oh, um, some mission at the camps I think.” 

“Anything big?” 

“I don’t think so. A little unrest but I think he just wants me to make sure the women are training.” 

“Need me to come?” 

“I would, but I leave tomorrow night. Isn’t that when you—you know…” 

Azriel sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh, that’s right.” He tilted his head to the side, weighing his internal conflict. “I could try to move some things around. Elain could—” 

“No, Az, it’s fine,” you interrupted, trying to forget about the times he would restructure his entire schedule to accommodate you. “You have to be diligent with the times you see her. I can see if Cass can come with me.” 

“Are you sure?” he posed, the question twisting his brow. 

You looked up at him, examining each tell on his face. You’d known him so long you were sure you would never forget his face—never scrub your mind of the intricacies that told you of each emotion he felt. 

Many claimed that Azriel was hard to read. As a Spymaster, that was the goal. But you saw through it all. You’d seen him as a boy and you saw him now. 

There was something unfamiliar on his face as you looked at him now. 

“You really like her, don’t you?” The words hurt as they came out. 

Azriel breathed through a smile. 

“I like my chances this time.” He curled his finger beneath your chin in a playful tap. 

That sounded the same. 

~~

“You sure you don’t want me to come, sweetheart?” Cassian asked for the fourth time, the table between you filled with a plethora of distractions that you were all too grateful for. 

You darted your gaze to the side, eager to ensure that Azriel hadn’t heard the loudmouth in front of you. “Yes, Cass. Now quit it. I got it, okay?” 

Cassian sent the pair at the end of the table a perfunctory, almost irritated glance. “It’s a pretty hostile camp you’re headed into. I feel like you should bring backup.” 

“And I feel like you have four other camps to go to today. And a pregnant mate to tend to, no?” 

“Nesta would sooner bash me over the head with her books than let me coddle her. I’ve tried.”

“Well, just… linger around her, I don’t know. Just know that I’m fine and don’t need a babysitter.” 

From the other end of the table, Elain giggled, the sound light and airy. You snuck a glance out of the corner of your eye to find the shadows along the table retreating to the floor. A few had begun to creep towards you, but you shooed them away with a flick of your foot, wanting to keep the conversation away from Azriel’s ears. 

They listened to you—for the most part. 500 years of pestering them made them give a little. 

“Az can’t come?” Cassian asked, his mouth half filled with roasted potato. “He’s not on anything this week.” 

You raised your brow and stared back at the sheepish look the general offered, waiting for him to chew his breakfast before you replied. “He can’t. Spy business.” 

“Spy business.” Cassian deadpanned.

“Uh-huh.” 

Cassian’s skeptical look rivaled your chastising one. “This doesn’t need to go like this and you know that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Right. I’ve only known you since we were twelve but I’m going to pretend that you aren’t covering for the one person you—” 

“Cassian.” 

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Why would she be getting hurt?” Azriel spoke up, his head finally turned from his near-permanent gaze on Elain. 

“I wouldn’t,” you cut in, speaking over the beginning of Cassian’s sentence. “You know how Cassian is, always worrying too much.”

“Is there something to worry about?” Elain asked, looking between the members of the table, her question sweet and ironic coming from her mouth. 

“No—” 

“Yes.” 

“No, there isn’t” you gritted out, throwing Cassian a look. The smile you sent to Elain took effort. “I’m just going on a routine mission, but you know how Illyrians are—overprotective to a fault.” 

Elain nodded and blushed with a soft gleam in her eye, and, Gods, you were reminded why you’d stopped eating breakfast at the House. You bit the inside of your cheek to fight the swell in your throat. 

“I thought Cassian was going to go with you,” Azriel questioned. “You said he could.” 

Cauldron, you really should have taken breakfast in your room. 

You tore your gaze from Elain’s shy expression and blinked at Azriel. He was sat up straighter, brows shot upwards in an accusatory fashion that made you feel that you were in trouble. When you took a moment to respond, he tilted his chin forward, ready to catch you in a lie. 

And you were an awful liar. 

When you were thirty, Azriel had to teach you how to lie to help stave away the men that came with emerging adulthood. That had been mortifying for many reasons, but mainly because he was having you lie about being his mate. Your feelings had become complicated around that time and Azriel did not seem to share the sentiment. 

But you could lie about this with ease. You had become a practiced liar over the years—when it came to hiding your feelings. 

“I-I got an update from Rhys. He said the camp is more settled. I’m only going to watch from afar. They won’t even know I’m there.” 

A lie—a fat lie. But Azriel should be happy. He should pursue Elain as he wanted. You shouldn't get in the way. You needed to get away from them, actually. 

You needed the space. 

You felt Cassian’s disappointed stare on the side of your face but ignored the hole it was burning into your skin. 

“He didn’t inform me of that,” Azriel muttered. He looked to Elain—sweet Elain with her soft eyes and gentle features—and contemplated his night once again. “I think I should come with you. Reports could be conflicting or fabricated.” 

And the way Elain deflated made you press your lips together in a line. Azriel sent her an apologetic, downturned smile and you gathered that he was apologizing for you. You would always be an apology for him, a responsibility. 

Your foot had been shaking under the table without you noticing it, but the moment Azriel’s eyes wandered to Elain, the motion abruptly stopped. You gathered your resolve, sent Cassian another warning glance, and looked back to the man who never saw you. 

“I don’t want you to come, Azriel. I’m bringing Lucien.” 

A low blow, but not one that was uncalled for. 

It had the effect you were hoping for, with both Azriel and Elain sending shocked expressions your way, the former affronted and the latter looking lost. 

“Lucien?” Azriel parroted. 

“Yes,”  you confirmed, taking a causal sip from the cup before you. “Rhys thought it would be good for him to see more than just Velaris and the mortal lands. I’m picking him up before I leave.” 

“And you think he would protect you if the Illyrians went rouge?” Azriel’s tone was bordering on aggressive, his question pointed towards Cassian. 

“The Illyrians are always rouge, Az. That’s kind of the point of all this,” you joked, but the joke didn’t land.

Tension at the table remained. Cassian wasn’t saying anything, his arms crossed and his eyes locked on yours. Your foot started shaking again. Elain, of all people, was the first one to speak. 

“Lucien would protect her,” she nodded, pushing her food around her plate. “He would. He’s… a good male.” 

That altered Azriel’s train of thought very evidently if one were able to pick apart the soft widening of his eyes and the slight twitch of his mouth. All things you caught so easily. 

All things that led him to agree that you should go with Lucien. All tells that made him refocus his attention on Elain and ignore the shallow breaths you let out when you lied.

Because you would be fine with Lucien. Maybe if you went with Lucien, one of Azriel’s suspected obstacles would be removed. Maybe Lucien would start to want you the same way he wanted Elain. 

Only, Lucien wasn’t going with you, and there would never be a time that a conversation like this would happen again. 

A different obstacle, for a different time. 

[liahaslosthermind]

~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭~ Part 2

Part 2 of The Spy Master's Secret Find more ACOTAR works here! Summary: The strange scent of an unknown female and a... love letter? Warnings: Out of character bat boys? idk but they are happy and brotherly and all is good in this, Mention of illicit affairs (just teasing), Bad injuries, Inner Circle loves to STAY in Azriel's business, I actually write Rhys as not an asshole in this one

The Spymaster had a dirty little secret.

Well, not really. But she loved to tease Azriel by referring to herself as such. 

He always pretended to hate it, but he could never fight the smile he got when hearing her refer to herself as his dirty little secret.

Deep down, he knew she did it just to see that damned smile.

He wasn’t smiling right now though, as he sat in his office after a rather… tiresome mission and got berated by his dirty little secret in question. 

While the conversation wasn’t pleasant, a wave of disappointment hit Azriel as he heard the combined footsteps of the High Lord and his General.

With one last scathing look, she walked into the shadows once more.

“Az! Rhysand and I were… was someone else just in here?” Cassian asked, stopping whatever thought was so important in the moment that both brothers had to interrupt him, but not important enough to finish.

“No.”

“Azriel, we can smell that a female was in here… a rather excited one at that.” Rhysand said, slightly wincing at his word choice.

“Oh my Mother, Azriel is having an illicit affair with an unknown female in his office.” Cassian teased, bouncing on his feet at the excitement the mere idea gave him.

“Yes, Cassian. I found time while finishing paperwork from the two week long mission I went on to have a clandestine meeting with a woman.” Azriel grumbled. He played it off as a ridiculous thing to think, but it wasn’t actually that far from the truth. In reality, she didn’t really give him any time nor warning to find the time to get yelled at by her.

“Who is she? Do we know her? Nesta is going to die when I tell her we caught you post-hot and steamy meeting with a mystery woman.”

“I didn’t mean excited as in aroused, you idiot.” Rhysand said while smacking the back of Cassian’s head. “Is this the so-called best friend? And how did you get someone to winnow in and out of here without being detected?” 

“She didn’t winnow.”

“But her scent starts and ends in this room?” Cassian jumped in, still rubbing the back of his head.

“Yes.”

Both brothers waited for more information, till they remembered who they were talking to. Rhysand caught sight of the Shadows once more appearing in the room. “Did- did she shadow walk?” That seemed like the only explanation, but how could she have done such a thing without Azriel? She couldn't have been able to unless…

“Please tell me you did not find another fucking Shadowsinger and not tell us immediately.” Cassian begged.

“I didn’t find another Shadowsinger and not tell you immediately.” Azriel replied sarcastically. 

“Wait, so did you or did you not?”

“I didn’t.” He replied truthfully. Not that the two bastards standing in front of him could tell.

Realizing that once again Azriel wasn’t going to give more than he wanted to, Cassian and Rhysand gave up, finally explaining what they had actually come into the room for. 

----

“I swear to you Feyre, Darling. Just smell his office!” Rhysand said as he led his mate, with Cassian and Nesta in toe, to the Spy Master’s office.

He had sent Azriel on a bullshit errand in order to get the two Archeron sisters to experience it for themselves, having not believed either of the two Illyrians. 

Azriel knew it was a bullshit errand, but he also knew he didn’t want to deal with whatever Rhysand was planning on doing without his knowledge. 

“All I can smell is Cassian’s sweaty leathers.” Nesta said, coughing at the smell.

“I just washed them!” Cassian replied defensively. This only made Nesta gag, the smell strong enough to prevail even after a deep clean.

The two began to bicker, Rhysand joining in, as Feyre snooped around, not having had the opportunity to really look around Az’s office before. 

She had been content in her observations, ready to stop the argument about Cassian's eternal body odor, when she spotted a letter in beautiful handwriting.

She couldn’t read the letter, it had been written in a language she had never seen. Just as she began to lose interest, the sign off startled her.

“What the fuck?” she yelled, startling the rest of the occupants in the room.

“What's wrong?” Nesta asked, concerned at the sudden swearing. The vulgarity was normal for the eldest Archeron but not so much with the youngest. 

As Feyre pointed to the letter, Rhysand walked around to look at it, also unable to read whatever language it was written in. 

“Must be from one of his spies. Some kind of thing only they can read.” He reasoned.

“Why would he talk to his spies like this?” She asked, pointing to the ending, reading it out for the other two in the room.

𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭, 𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵,

𝓐𝔃𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓵

A stunned silence filled the room. This was a strangely poetic side of Azriel none of them had ever witnessed. Before any questions could be asked, a crash sounded from the balcony. 

There, the poet in question held his stomach, seemingly trying to stop his organs from falling out. 

—

“How do you feel?” Rhysand asked his brother, finally waking up after a long few days asleep.

“Like death.” Azriel answered, head pounding from the light, even though it was as dark as possible, minus the candle that was lit on the far side of the room inhibited by the rest of the Inner Circle.

“Good. You are an asshole for staying on the brink of death for days straight. You stressed us out enough with your dramatics. I hope you hurt for a little.” Nesta said, trying to hide her relief at Az’s sudden consciousness. 

“It isn’t my fault I was attacked while having to search every art supply store in Velaris for certain paints Rhys wanted for Feyre. Which by the way, Rhysand, don’t exist. So fuck you for that.”

Rhysand grimaced. Feyre sent him a feeling down the bond he knew meant he was in for a lot of berating later. 

“At least you are on the mend. Madja said the poison coating their weapons is what really did you in. Once she found the anecdote you started healing. So, no hard feelings. Everyone is happy now, yes?” Cassian explained, a forced smile on his face as he hoped Rhysand wouldn’t bring up the fact it was his idea to send Az on the impossible paint run. 

“Actually, I have a few choice words for the Shadowsinger.” A new voice replied, startling every single person in the room. Well, all except one.

Azriel groaned in his bed, wishing the headache was worse just so he didn’t have to go through what he knew was unavoidable. 

“You know, we have a rule. No taking what isn’t ours without explicit permission from the other. 500 years is a long time to obey that rule just to throw it out the window.” The mysterious fae female scolded.

The rest of the room was in a stunned silence. Hands on weapons, magic at their fingertips, ready to fight whoever this was the second the shock wore off. 

“Who the fuck is this?” Cassian yelled.

A reasonable question.

The sound made Azriel wince, head still pounding. But it was about to get way worse. 

“My carranam.” The Spy Master replied.

A/n: sooo part 3?

[cordycepsfem]

I'm not preaching, which is what you seem to be doing with your appeals to emotion. I told you there are sources out there to find and they're all perfectly accessible. Khelif, like all people with DSDs, is not related to trans issues at all, so I don't really see much point in continuing with that avenue of conversation. It seems to mean a lot to you, so please by all means go find the sources that you're demanding I find for you.

If people didn't have it out for trans gals, why is the worry about getting estrogen an issue? Why is getting puberty blockers an issue?

"Trans gals." Yuck. You sound like a 45-year-old autogynephile.

Maybe there's a worry about getting estrogen because people tend to catastrophize. Or because men (and women) don't actually need to take cross-sex hormones, because it's not proven to help gender dysphoria or accompanying mental health conditions.

Maybe getting prostate cancer drugs - aka "puberty blockers" - is an issue because children should not have their puberty blocked, lest they end up with osteoporosis, emotional and mental stunting, and under-grown sex organs, an inability to ever orgasm, and further mental health issues not cured by the magical drugs shilled by gender clinics.

But that might just be me.

Gender doesn't mean ANYTHING in the purely literal sense.

Great, so why are you trans?

It's some idiotic concept someone came up with eons ago. But then why should you care how people identify within that social construct?

I see my thoughts about selfish and uncaring people taking away spaces and rights from women and girls made 0 impact on you. Unsurprising.

Gender is not something "someone came up with." It is a societal structure that has always benefited male individuals and left female individuals oppressed. Because of gender, women are thought to be weaker, dumber, less deserving of education, unable to own property or have their own money, get jobs, or even in some places, unable to be around males without wearing full-body coverings.

I don't care how people "identify," because I know that "identify" means "isn't." If you have to tell me you "identify" as a woman, okay, great. What are you identifying with? Which woman are you identifying with? Women are adult female humans, and while we're all different, the one thing we all have in common is being female. So what exactly is there to "identify" with?

You're right. Gender was (possibly, I haven't done enough research to verify) created to keep women down. That's despicable.

Yes, you're very definitely 14.

And now gender is "despicable" - great, so why are you trans? Seems weird to want to play directly into the hands of a social construct that oppresses women and was literally just described as you by "despicable."

And if you stand with us, you can help make sure that someday, gender means nothing more political or oppressive than a name, or a haircut. Or you can stand against us, and reinforce the idea that gender is the measure of someone's worth. Someone born a girl, in the truest sense, isn't any less of a person than a boy and doesn't have any less potential. So then why should someone born a boy not be able to stand with her sisters and try and make the world a better place, one voice at a time? Birth conditions isn't what makes a person. It's what comes after.

Radical feminists believe that gender is immaterial, because biological sex is how women are oppressed. Women can have any haircut or any name - being female is how "gender" oppresses. I don't believe gender has any worth. I don't believe in it.

Someone born a girl "in the truest sense" doesn't have any less potential than a boy, but around the world that girl is more likely to be aborted before she's born, left to die once she's born, have her genitals mutilated, married off to an adult male, never learn to read, die in childbirth, have to avoid males while she menstruates, face rape and domestic violence, and have her rights voted away by males. So no, it's not anyone's "gender" that determines their potential - it is oppression on the axis of sex.

Birth is literally what makes a person. I know you thought you killed it with that line, but you literally need to be born to be a person.

So Miss @cordycepsfem, please stand with your fellow sisters, cis AND trans, and help us make the world a more livable place for an woman. I believe in you.

Males aren't my sisters. You want to go all out for trans rights - have a ball. Fix everything for trans people. It's noble and you'll definitely have my support.

But it's not women's job to make the world more palatable for males of any kind. Feminism is not the "all rights matter" movement. It is for women and girls, and it will be the means by which the world is made safer for them.

"Trans women are actually women for real, not in a metaphorical sense, not in a "anyone can be anything" sense, but genuinely actually make more taxonomic sense to classify in the category of women than any other group" is a position you'll find is pretty radical even in queer spaces

[basil--and--sage]

The poll is done and you have spoken: most of you have the headcanon that Dwarves come of age at the age of 70. That's my headcanon, too, funnily enough.

So let us use some cross-multiplication to put some things into perspective. I use the age of 21 as a benchmark, since that was the age of majority during Tolkien's youth.

Let's find out, how old some of the characters were in human years during certain events.

Thorin was 1,5 years old, when Frerin was born, and about 4 years old, when Dís was born. He was about 7 years old, when Smaug came, and about 16, when he fought in Azanulbizar and lost grandfather, father and brother and became King. He was about 34, when Fíli was born. He died at 58,5 years old.

Frerin was about 3, when his sister was born, about 6, when the Dragon came, and died at about 14 years old in Azanulbizar.

Dís was 3, when Smaug stole Erebor, and about 12, when her brothers fought in Azanulbizar. She was about 30 years old, when her first son was born, and about 54, when she lost her immediate family during the Battle of the Five Armies.

Fíli was 1,5 years old, when his brother was born, and 6, when his cousin Gimli was born. He died before his 25th birthday.

Kíli was 4,5 years old, when Gimli was born, and died at 23 years old.

At the end of the quest, Gimli was about 18 years old, and probably in the beginning angry that he wasn't allowed to come with them, and then utterly heartbroken.

I can only talk about myself, but I think it speaks volumes, that Gimli had to stay home at 18, while Frerin died at 14 in Azanulbizar. I do wonder, if Thorin every questioned, what the hell his grandfather and the other adults were thinking, especially considering that Frerin wasn't the youngest by far (Dáin was 9 years old and Glóin only 5). If that isn't transgenerational trauma and Glóin breaking the circle, then I don't know what to say. I did the math in preparation for a fic and before that I never realized, how young they were during Azanulbizar and, to be honest, I was appalled.

(Most of the numbers are rounded and no promises that everything is correct.)

[acourtofthought]

After reading the series for the second time, I've come to really dislike the narrative that Feyre is a better friend to Lucien than he is to her. When that's just not the case.

He's helped her or tried to help her on multiple occasions, throughout the books. UTM, him trying to get Tamlin to let her train and be a part of things(which I honestly feels like it gets so overlooked because he was fighting with Tam using his words, instead of physically). Even when they left the Spring Court.

Meanwhile, Feyre used him in her plot to get back at Tamlin and with Ianthe. With no care at what would happen to him afterwards. The way she acts with him when it came to Elain(i mean I get it she wants to protect her sister. But Lucien has never once gave any reason to believe he would harm her or anyone else). And then in acofas, after the war was over and everyone was recovering and dealing with trauma, including Lucien, she makes fun of the one good he has in his life at the moment, the band of exiles.

I'm sorry but Lucien is a way better to Feyre than she is to him.

Ps. Sorry for my random rant/ask lol

I also do not agree with the narrative that Feyre was a better friend to Lucien than he was to her. I see so many people say, "but Lucien even admitted it!!" Lucien is a martyr. He literally feels responsible for Jesminda's death and doesn't blame the lesser fae in the Autumn Court for blaming him for Jesminda's death. We as the reader know there was nothing he could have done to stop Jesminda's death and he should not be carrying that guilt around though he does it anyway. Likewise, just because Lucien said what he did to Feyre it doesn't mean she was actually a better friend. If you really think over the series, when was Feyre ever a truly good friend to Lucien? She didn't bother going back to the room to check on him when she knew Tamlin used a pulse of power against him. She never bothered to ask him how HE was after what happened UTM. Feyre only focused on her trauma and while I can completely understand that, it's very one-sided for her to believe Lucien should have been responsible for helping her after UTM (more-so than he did) while she didn't bother helping him after UTM. They both experienced horrible things and I'd go as far to say that Lucien experienced horrible things for much longer than Feyre had. For all the times someone debates whether Lucien could have done more for Feyre, at the end of the day he never sought out to use Feyre. But at the end of the day Feyre did set out to use Lucien even knowing how abusive / dangerous Tamlin could be, even knowing that Ianthe had SA Lucien previously. At the end of the day Feyre and Rhys used Elain, his own mate, as a pawn to manipulate Lucien. I do think that as of SF they've begun rebuilding their friendship but I will never be convinced that throughout the series Feyre was a better friend to Lucien than he was to her.

[papil0nglegs]

ok but like I loved ur mercy!reader post and considering my love for crossovers ESPECIALLY character interactions I was wondering if u could do more???

Nerf this!🐰

Tf2 x Dva!Reader

A/n: If you’re not familiar with Dva then I suggest watching the Dva Cinematic. It’ll sum her character up and she’s a fun one at that ^^. A lot of my tf2 x ow fics are platonic so unless I outright say that it’s romantic you can imagine it however you’d like, enjoy <33

Warnings: None

Divider creds: Sister-Lucifer on Tumblr

Engineer

Since you guys were forced to share a workshop it looks pretty similar to the bedroom from Sam and Cat, one side being dull and grey with little to no decorations while the other is pink with cute plushies/figurines around the place.

After a bit you grew closer, sitting around in silence while working on your projects got pretty awkward so it was about time before someone broke the ice.

“You ever name your bots?”

“Huh, don’t think so.. you?”

“Yes! I call her Tokki, she’s cute isn’t she?”

“And one hell of a shade of pink”

Engineer is really competitive when it comes to you, being that you both are engineers/inventors. You guys have fun 🫶

“That’s 10 kills! Can you do that grandpa?”

“Haha! Just wait til’ you see what my other babies can do”

Will gladly show you some old tricks that he’s learned over the years since he’s more experienced. Plus he’s the only person you’ll ever trust your dear Tokki with.

Speaking of which-your self destruct sequence is always done by him, any of the other mercs will FUMBLEEE

“how do I friggin do this?? Is there like a joystick I can move around?”

•

“Too many dæm buttons on this zing! I zon’t know what I’m doing”

•

“pulls out glasses your mouse controls the small pointer on ze screen, use it to-WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS MEAN?”

“IT MEANS YOU’RE STUPID HEAVY.”

Interactions/Voicelines 🎤

Team kill with Self Destruct

“How’s that for a shade of pink?”

•

“Definitely haven’t seen somethin’ like that in my years.”

•

“Thanks Tae-I mean!-Engie!!”

Domination

“Too slow, peepaw!”

•

“Hope that wasn’t hard on your arthritis -3-“

Medic

Medic gets so excited when you’re on a mission with him. Loves pocketing you, partly because you’re the nicest when it comes to asking for help

“CMON THEN DOCTOR”

“HURRY ON DOCTOR”

“DOCTOR, HEAL NOW”

“heals plss 😚”

He also enjoys how you’re full of surprises, he thought you were gonna die when your mech broke down but no! You jumped out that thing and pistol whipped the whole team’s faces off like the diva you are.

“PISTOL TO THE FACE!!”

“Y/n slow down 🙂”

He loves you but you overstimulate him.

Interactions/Voicelines 🎤

Ubering

“LETS GO!”

•

“RAHHH!! GET OUTTA MY GAME!”

Spawn Interactions

“You gonna surprise me out there, Hase?”

“Of course! You know I always do ^.^”

•

“Nett mech”

“Nett coat!!”

“Aw, vy thank you”

Spy

This ho won’t stop talking shit. Every time he opens his mouth about you it’s him complaining about how “you’re too young to be on this team” or “your ‘experience’ with video games doesn’t serve a war” or “stop playing video games y/n we’re in the middle of battle”.

He avoided you for the most part until you decided to make some small talk while you both awkwardly stood in an elevator, big mistake 😬

“I bet your gun does a ton of DPS”

“Must you always muster up your video game vocabulary with reality?”

“Must you always be so petty?? 😒 old Frenchie fuck you and your dps gun”

Clearly he’s not fond of youngin’s joining the team. Though he does find you more “tolerable” than scout since you at least have some experience with fighting in a war (kinda)

He hates that he has to crawl to you for tech help, he doesn’t know what he’s doing-you’re the tech expert!!

“Y/n.. something is wrong with the radio.”

“..oookkayyy??”

“Can you help?”

“LOL!!”

Meetings with you always end up in him taking your game console away, he just won’t leave you alone 🙄

“Hey! I was in the middle of beating a boss!!”

“You’ll have it back once you listen to what I have to say, girl.”

“Ughh fine”

Interactions/Voicelines 🎤

Spawn interactions

“Don’t you think your little pink robot will be a distraction?”

“That’s.. just the way I like it!”

Blaster light gun kill

“See that, Spy? Pure skill.”

Spy callout

“Ping!Ping!Ping! Spy around here!!”

[aychama]

Oh my gosh! Im really flattered that you think this way! It means that I have done a good job so far with my Narinder 😌

I %100 understand your concerns regarding the plot and the upcoming betrayal. It wont be a 180 in their personalities and Narinder wont be this comically evil character either. I will do my best to push these two poor souls as much as I can.

But how do you do that to two people that love eachother?

Easy. Fear, lies and manupilation done by other characters that feed the current spy/knight and king plot.

The whole reason why I added Chelsea to the story is to intruduce a harsh conflict to it. To be the catalyst to this pairings downside. But funny enough she wont be the start of it. Fox, the advisor of Narinder has his teeth into him since he was a child and he is the reason why the big rift happens between the sibling kings.

I also have plans with Lambert's missing sister. Her just existing will move Lambert to the extremes. Familial love and revenge is one of my favorite things to see in media and I sure as hell will use it!

I also do understand the 'Narinder did nothing wrong' kind of look into his character and that 'he didnt lie about anything just didnt tell us of his plan' as well. In my comic, he doesnt have the plan to sacrifice Lambert from the get go, he wouldn't even think about it until Fox and Chelsea keep pushing him and fill his head about Lambert betraying him.

The betrayal from Lambert wont be predetermined either. The grief and anger will consume them too much for them to even think about what they are doing and listen to what Narinder is saying to them.

All of this will start boiling before Kallamar's defeat. Lambert will hear a conversation between Fox and Narinder during Lambert's birthday celebration and the heartbreak will start. They will still continue to serve him after it.

Chelsea will have the information that Lambert is a spy and use it to blackmail them to be obidient to her and use her position and Narinder's actions with killing 2 of his siblings and the reactions from Kallamar and Shamura over Narinder to pressure him with other nobles.

The pressure from Chelsea, Kallamar, Shamura and the nobles will be too much for Narinder that he will stop protecting Lambert and he wont go easy on them emotionally which will create the heartbreaking era of Lambert's emotional torture from Chelsea and Narinder turning a blind eye to it.

Lambert lying to Narinder the whole time as a spy and not being able to confess it all, Narinder having literal power over their life and that making his feelings and desires conflict in their relationship will be their main dynamic.

Anyway before I spoil all of the plot, just know that I have a lot of things planned. I dont know if I will be able to satisfy everyone but I just hope you guys have fun with all the angst and heartbreak I have planned for these poor souls !

You guys know how it’s said that cats purr heals? Yea…

[canmom]

you must have this many dead friends to ride

it's TDOR (well, it was). unable to sleep, i read through all the deaths reported in the 2022-23 trans murder report (a year out of date, I don't think they've released this year's one yet.)

I'm not quite sure why i felt i should do this. if it's a gesture for the victims... well, if someone murders me one day, i don't think it will mean much one way or another if someone in faraway country reads a brief two sentence report that a 30-35 year old trans woman with 'other' occupation was found tied up with burn marks or something. nevertheless, it is the time of year for this ritual.

most of the deaths are reported in central and south american countries, largely due to reporting bias, though there's more reporting now from countries like India and Pakistan - almost nothing from east asia though, probably due to language barriers. it's hard to draw much of a conclusion about anything since many of the reports don't say much, the stats are subject to extreme sampling bias, etc etc. but the general types of story are: "her partner murdered her", "she was killed by gunmen on the street/in her house", "there was an argument and the other person decided to kill her over it", "the mob killed her for extortion reasons", 'her body was found in some awful condition", "the cops killed her" (including Tortugita, who they shot 57 times at the 'cop city' protest), and of course good old "explicitly anti trans hate crime" (which covers Brianna Ghey, the one death from my country, and several from the US).

my murdered sisters are in most cases very young. younger than me.

the statistician in my brain wants me to acknowledge that i don't know the degree that trans women are specifically subject to murder for being trans women or by abusive partners etc, and how much it's "just" about being poor and racialised and living in a place where paramilitaries, gangs etc routinely murder people. sex work is a dangerous line of work for many reasons, but it's also going to be the case that a lot of us are sex workers so even if we were all equally likely to be murdered, a huge number of the dead would be sex workers, just as many of them were beauticians.

but honestly, even bearing that in mind, a whole lot of sex workers were killed.

there is something particularly ghoulish in talking so drily about death statistics; the website uses the painful phrase 'concerning trend' in regards to the demographics of people killed (overwhelmingly trans women, sex workers and not white), as if a perfectly proportional series of murders would be less 'concerning' somehow, but what exactly are you supposed to say? it is of course a window into who a society is comfortable getting rid of, but we already knew that. there's a reason that a sex worker is the go-to plot-inciting murder victim in fiction.

collating death reports like this... in part it is done as a matter of political advocacy, saying 'look, we are being murdered by the hundreds [multiplied by some nebulous but significant underreporting factor]'. but of course, if that's our goal, we are holding our deaths up against, for example, the tens of, likely hundreds of thousands of people killed by violence in Gaza, Sudan and Ukraine in the last year - events which have already divided the world into people who can't stop it, and people who can but don't care to. and what do we want done about it? to beg the state to come down and apply its monopoly on violence more stringently? often the police are the ones killing trans women.

so what remains is ritual. we light candles, and read out the names of strangers who nevertheless have this one important thing in common with us, the ~global community~ of trannies and such - this was a person who refused to take the awful role they were given, asserted their own will to change their body, managed to live a life at least partly on their own terms, and then got killed over it.

but we don't have time to tell the life story, no time to describe the mess of relationships and aspirations that drive a life; there is no time to imagine what feelings we shared, what they enjoyed, what stories we might have laughed about if we'd known each other...

we have time for 'found dead in a car'.

if that.

in my country, we face a very different threat distribution - i don't really expect anyone i know to get murdered (though it's not impossible, there are people I'm close to who have been viciously attacked and there was little to do to stop the attacker coming back), but I'm sure Fall won't be the last of my friends to die by suicide. if we are 'fighting like hell for the living', our project here is more about trying to build lives that are worth living for, and weathering whatever fashy deluge is coming down the political pipes. what does fighting like hell even mean here? i think i used to think i knew.

but this night at least, I'm remembering my friend Fall, who we lost back in 2022. I made this page about her, and the feelings that came up from her death, with writing from friends who knew her better than me. I'd be grateful if you read it and helped some part of her memory live on. (apparently they wrote a little memorial for her in the recent translation of Shōnen Note: Boy Soprano which she worked on.)

I never got to ask what Fall thought of all these TDoR rituals - it's one of many things I didn't get to talk to her about and I bet she'd give me something unexpected to think about, formed some ingenious connection. or maybe she didn't think much of it! but it's as good a reason to think of her as any. she was awesome, she should have been given a much better hand by this world, and it is more shit for not having her in it.

I bet the friends of any of the 321 people on that list, and everyone on this year's list, would be able to say something pretty similar.

entropy always gets its way. but I'll hold onto what I can of her, my fragment of her ghost, for as long as we can. i guess that's the point of the ritual. hold onto our ghosts. tell each other that, one day, they'll stop accumulating so fast.

[cassandracain52]

The Batfamily on a roadtrip:

Bruce: The Driver. You really thought his control freak ass was gonna let someone else drive? Be so fr. Has a migraine the size of the WatchTower and has been seriously contemplating pulling over, getting out of the car, and just walking. Not anywhere particular, just walking away. Has already had to pull over twice to swap seating arrangements around and they've only driven 3 1/2 hours out of 11. (They will do this at least 3 more times before they reach their destination)

Barbara: Shotgun. Declared that as second oldest and second most experienced vigilante that the front seat was her birth given right. No one contested it(successfully anyway). Has been helpfully navigating the fastest route much to Bruce "I know where I'm going" Wayne's annoyance. (Her way was in fact more efficient and she is incredibly smug about it.)

Jason: Behind the Passenger seat. Wanted the front seat but wasn't willing to physically fight Babs for it which was what she assured him it would have taken to get her to move. Brought a backpack full of nothing but snacks that he is only sharing with people that aren't actively annoying him aka Cass. Keeps playing words with friends with Roy on his phone and is Kicking Ass

Cassandra: Middle Left. Volunteered for the middle seat because she wanted to sit next to Jason aka the Snack Source while still being close enough to comfortably talk to Babs and Steph. Is one of the few enjoying the drive and just in general living her best life. Somehow painted both her own and Steph’s nails perfectly while the car was in motion. No one is sure how she did this and they were watching

Stephanie: Middle Right. Was originally sitting Middle Back next to Tim but caused the first seat swap when she got bored and decided Tim made suitable entertainment(imagine like in Detective comics #1000). Bruce declared the car a "No Flirting Zone" shortly after. Pouted for all of thirty seconds before she realized she got to sit next to Cass and abandoned Tim without a second thought. Is also the person pointing to the window and going “cows!” Whenever they pass some

Dick: Behind the Driver's seat. Chose his seat while everyone else was fighting for shotgun because he wanted to be able to see Babs during the drive so they could talk without shouting.(he knew good and well she was winning that fight). Has had a few arguments with Jason but they didn't last or get out of hand with Cass between them. Did manage to steal a bag of chips from Jason’s snackpack while he was on his phone. The roadtrip was his idea and he refuses to admit it was not well thought out.

Tim: Back Left. Was thoroughly betrayed when Steph abandoned him to be left with the two youngest bats and said so at length. Only quieted when Jason threw a pack of gummy worms at his head with a demand for silence. Brought an abundance of handheld electronics despite knowing he gets car sick. He threw up on the side of the road 90 minutes into the trip and Dick confiscated anything that had a screen until they reached their destination. He is his own worst enemy. Has since resorted to playing the license plate game with Duke

Duke: Back Middle. Was originally in between Cass and Dick but had to move to sit Back Left next to Damian when Steph took his spot. He stayed there for exactly 45 minutes before Damian caused the second seat swap when he attempted to strangle Tim with his headphones because he was "breathing obnoxiously". Is now a human barrier and he hates it. Jason offered him a small amount of sympathy by offering him some Sour Patch Kids. Duke accepted them. Bruce was more sympathetic and gave him DJ control. Is mostly just talking with Tim who is bored since his electronics were taken.

Damian: Back Right. Attempted to attack Stephanie with a pillow because he “couldn’t listen to her and Drake anymore and she was closer” before the first seat swap occurred. Did not regret his actions in the slightest. Warned his father that nothing good would come from him sitting directly beside Tim, was ignored, and then moved when "nothing good" did indeed come. Despite these to things, he actually spent the majority of the drive with his headphones on full volume and messing around on his phone while he pretended to be anywhere other than there.

Alfred: In The Car Following Behind Them. Yeah there was no way he was getting in that car. He knows a recipe for disaster when he sees one. Didn't hesitate to "offer" that he would happily transport all the luggage and supplies and meet them there. Was already loaded up and ready to go in a separate car before anyone could question him. Somehow got there first and had made dinner for them when they all finally showed up with half the car at war with the other half. Peace was made only in the name of Alfred’s cooking

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[pergaminaa]

omg hold on i just realized something!!!

the Blackbeak Matron is the ONLY one who knew about Manon's bloodline, like-- Manon is an actual fucking queen by birthright and the Matron is the only person who knew it because Manon never learned about this.

so remember when Asterin was telling Manon what happened to her with her hunter and witchling? The Matron warned Vesta and Sorrel not to bring it up to Manon or there will be dire consequences.

Now hear me out: Manon fucking loves Asterin. If she knew what her grandmother had done, she would have probably done something like take the Thirteen and just leave or something like that.

We all know how the Matron loved threatening Manon that she'd replace her, but while it worked on Manon, her grandmother never really intended to do that.

It's the same reason why she wanted Vesta and Sorrel to remain quiet: she has a literal fucking queen at her beck and call. Manon is ready to do anything for her grandmother just to get some praise, and the Matron isn't going to let go of that. It's why she needed Manon loyal to her (through fear because Manon didn't really trust her but she fears what she'd do)

So at the end of the day, the Matron was after more power. She kept Manon by her side through unorthodox tactics because she loved having so much control over her. And also because of Manon's royal blood, she can have so much.

I think it's also why she wasn't fully against Erawan showing interest in Manon. Because with that union, she will reign supreme.

It's just-- the way she played Manon for her whole life for no other reason than being a shitty person is what irks me the most. She literally used everything that is Manon and twisted it, turning it into something ugly.

I'm sorry but when Manon just killed Rhiannon without even questioning it? Just blindly obeying her grandmother because it's what she's been conditioned to do???

Later on, we see Manon really struggling between doing what is right and doing exactly what her grandmother wants even when she doesn't agree with it. Every time, her grandmother wins (until the part where she was about to execute Asterin) and I honestly think that the Matron was happy with how she has the actual Queen of Witches under her command.

[arolesbianism]

Despite how much I suffered making my last isat au Aris sprite redraw, I decided to do it again and once again went through hell doing it. There’s like a billion mistakes in this (such as her having the wrong arm rip) but at the end of the day I’m still happy with how it turned out :]

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode

[cuteniaarts]

2 hour rough drawing of Ehuang, my precious Green Opal child who I don’t draw nearly enough <3

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

I swear, this is the last ever New Year that I ring in with people who don't value me or my time and efforts. This is the last year that I spend the holidays etc feeling utterly despondant and miserable. This is the last time I spend the 2 weeks that encompass Christmas, New Years, and my birthday with my cunt of a mother and sister. They have had almost 25 of them in some way or another, and this is their last. I'm done.

[cuteniarose]

@katkastrofa: *forgets a few OCs when making a list because it’s been a long day, she’s tired and brain farts happen to everyone occasionally*