#The amount we've tried is ridiculous at this point

[megatronsimp]

Why is it so hard to find the right ADHD meds that don't mess with my blood pressure and don't cause weight gain?

[lalacliffthorne]

🪽 ... then we go down together. 🪽

Azriel x Reader

part I part II

summary: confessions, more of those damn arrows. and a masquerade ball.

notes: I am so sorry. this damn thing just kept getting longer and longer; I think I stopped looking at the word count somewhere after 14k, but splitting it again wasn't really an option, so... sorry? *winces* it just had to fit everything!! we've got more smut, more drama, more Azriel - because honestly, he needs his own warning at this point - and that just required an unholy amount of words. so make yourself a cuppa, cozy up comfortably, and binge this ridiculously long second part.

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Wind howled around the cabin, the woods outside pitch black, visible through the cracks in the shutters as I stared at Azriel's face.

He'd pulled me into his body sometime in the last hour, still half asleep, his hand sliding in between my legs and dragging me through the sheets, hauling my bare leg over his hip before slipping his arms around waist and pulling me close until my bare body was completely pressed against his – stomach against stomach, thigh against thigh, chest against chest.

Something hitched and dipped under my ribs, and trying to swallow against the quick flutter, I let my gaze trail over Azriel's face. I could feel the bandages wrapped around his ribs pressing against my bare skin. I had changed them some time ago, reapplying the paste onto the stitched wound that already didn't look as sickly anymore, while Azriel had trailed slow kisses over my neck, his hands lazily roaming my sides, making focusing nearly impossible.

Now, his eyes were piercing mine, a little tired but watchful and steady as always. I was so close I could see the golden specks swimming in the clear amber of his iris, could see the pale freckles on the bridge of his nose. His gaze slowly dragged over my face, and I almost shivered under the intensity of it.

Somehow, Azriel had always been the only one who's stare could do this to me. Cause my skin to tingle just with the way his eyes pierced mine, deep, unreadable, swallowing me whole in their depths.

I tried not to think about that too much.

Azriel's fingers slowly ghosted over my back, following my spine, his rough skin causing my heart to hitch and breath to tremble, and his iris shifted, becoming a shade deeper, that blazing fire flaring to life as his eyes tracked over my face.

My heart toppled, and I blinked. Then I mumbled: “You know what I've been wondering?”

Azriel's eyes dragged over mine, silent, waiting.

I stared at him, slowly frowning softly.

"Since you're basically half bat, could you sleep upside down?”

Azriel blinked. Then his eyes narrowed, and I felt my lips curve upwards until I was grinning widely.

“There are beams up there. If you weren't patched up in six different places, I'd say give it a tr-“

I broke off with a soft squeal when Azriel rolled me around in one smooth movement and dragged my back into his chest; his arm locked around my waist, pinning me against his chest as his tall body curved around mine, and snorted giggles started breaking from my throat when his fingers dug into my ribs. I squirmed, my heart soaring from laughter, and Azriel nipped at my jaw.

“Watch it,”, he mumbled against my skin, and my heart dipped over at the sound of his deep, smooth voice.

“Or what?” I twisted my neck to grin at him, cheekily, challenging, but my breath got stuck in my throat when my eyes met Azriel's.

Slowly, a lazy twinkle spread through his iris.

My lips parted with a sharp inhale when he dropped his head and dragged his lips over my neck. Then he pressed a slow, lazy kiss against the underside of my jaw, and a soft shudder travelled through my body.

Azriel gave a rough sound deep in his chest, and one of his hands slid up and wrapped gently over my throat to hold me still as his nose dragged over my skin.

Something twisted and tightened in my stomach, a hoarse whimper built in my chest, and my head fell to the side when Azriel started pressing hard, hungry kisses onto my neck, his teeth dragging over my skin and nipping just firmly enough for my breath to shake.

My eyes rolled back as my lids fluttered, and I squirmed in his hold, something beginning to twist harshly in my lower stomach when Azriel dragged me closer into his body. Then his hands slid down and closed over my breasts.

A broken moan fell from my lips, and my back arched as Azriel's scarred skin brushed over my nipples, causing them to tighten. A soft rumble built in the shadowsinger´s chest, and he kissed my neck harder as his hands began to palm and tug at my breasts, causing my head to fall back and something twisting and tightening in my lower stomach as I whimpered.

My hips pushed back as I arched into Azriel's touch, my ass brushed against him, and something hot washed over my insides when I felt his hard cock press up against me.

Azriel growled deeply against my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin as his fingers pinched my right nipple, and my eyes rolled back at the sharp twinge of pleasure that shot right down to where I could feel wetness begin to pool between my legs.

Az lightly bit down onto my neck before kissing the spot lazily, his tongue dragging over my skin as his right hand slipped off my breast and slowly slid down over my stomach.

I whimpered softly when his rough skin skimmed over my hip bone, my back arched, and Azriel's nose brushed over my jaw as his hand slipped into my panties. I caught a glimpse at his face from the corner of my eye, iris blazing, gaze fixed onto my face and lips parted, and something tightened harshly in my stomach. Then rough fingers brushed over my clit, and my spine melted as my head fell back and Azriel groaned hoarsely into my skin as his thumb slid over the swollen nub.

Pleasure zipped through me, twisting my insides as I moaned thickly. My body writhed in Azriel's grip, trying to escape and move closer to the waves rolling through my body at the same time, and the shadowsinger gripped me tighter as his fingers slid through my folds, beginning to lazily circle my clit. I whimpered as his other hand palmed my chest and his nose dragged over my jaw, his uneven breath hitting my skin.

Azriel gave a deep, rough sound, and the pad of one of his fingers slid over my entrance.

My hips bucked, and my eyes rolled back into my head when Azriel slowly slipped one finger into me.

Azriel's arm tightened around me, pinning me into his chest as his gaze burned into the side of my face. Then he slowly curled his finger, his palm dragging over my clit, and my body shuddered.

My hand flew up to bury in Azriel's hair as my head fell back, to hold onto something, anchor me down, because I felt like I was slipping away. Azriel groaned against my neck, his teeth catching onto the shell of my ear, and my back arched as a whimper broke from my throat when his nose traced over my skin. Then he started to slowly pump his finger.

My body twisted in his grip. My hand curled into his hair as a whimper broke from my throat and my mind swam with pleasure, and Azriel nuzzled his nose against my jaw, causing my hips to twitch and roll down as my insides fluttered. Then he eased in another finger.

A broken moan slid from my lips as I felt myself pulse, and Azriel growled, the sound rumbling through me. His fingers curled inside of me, hitting some spot, and my back arched as my lips parted soundlessly.

Heat rushed through me, washing over my limbs as slowly, a tightness built in my stomach, causing my insides to clench and tighten around Azriel's fingers as little by little, they picked up their pace, the heel of his palm pressing into my clit and causing my insides to twist.

My hips bucked down into his hand as Azriel's lips dragged over my neck, and he softly bit my jaw, like a soundless encouragement, his forearm wrestling my legs apart as his fingers pumped inside of me. I threw my head back, my chest aching as I felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter. My free hand dug into the pillow, clutched the sheets as I felt my lips part.

“Shit, I –“

The tightness pulsed without warning. Then it shattered.

My body arched, became boneless, bloomed into something shuddering and shaking as waves of white hot scalding pleasure rolled over me, and I trembled, shaking moans breaking from my throat as Azriel's hand rode me through the high, until my whole body spasmed and shuddering jolts of pleasure made me throw back my head.

Azriel slowly curled his fingers inside of me until I fell limp, breathing heavily. A whimper left me when he slid them out of me, his scarred skin brushing over my clit causing me to jerk.

Something was pulsing in my lower stomach, wetness pooling between my legs as I exhaled with a tremble and turned my head, something rising my chest when my nose brushed against Azriel's and I met his eyes, blazing with heat, glued to my face.

A deep sound broke from his chest, and Azriel leaned forward and crashed his lips onto mine.

I twisted to face him, my fingers sliding into his hair, and Azriel's grip around my waist tightened when I pulled him down and kissed him back feverishly, tongues exploring lazily as his hand slipped under my thigh and dragged it over his waist.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt his hard cock nudge against my panties, and Azriel groaned softly into my mouth, his arm wrapping over my thigh and ass as he started to slowly grind against me. I moaned as I felt myself flutter around nothing, heat pooling between my legs as I dug my fingers into his hair and rolled my hips to meet his, seeking for some sort of friction against the throb between my legs. Azriel licked over my tongue, nipping at my bottom lip before dropping his head and burying his face against my neck. His hot, heavy breath hit my skin as he kissed harshly down my throat, teeth grazing my skin, and my head fell back.

I tried to shift my hips down further, feeling frustration twist in my stomach, pulling tautly, and Azriel's fingers slid under my panties, pulling them to the side. His thumb brushed over my clit, my hips jerked and insides tightened, and Azriel groaned softly against my neck.

“Fuck.”

His deep, hoarse voice rumbled through me, and my stomach dipped over, hips rolling down desperately as he softly nipped my collarbone, body still lazily grinding up against me.

His thumb slid down through my folds like he was planning on letting go, and with a desperate whimper, I pushed my hips foward.

Azriel's cock slid up through my folds and over my clit, and my body shuddered.

Az grunted, the sound strangled as his hands dug into the flesh of my thigh, dragging it up higher. Then he rolled his hips, and my head fell back slightly when the head of his cock caught my clit.

Azriel groaned, fingers tearing at my panties, dragging them down my legs, spreading my thighs further and pushing closer as he breathed heavily against my neck. But the angle was not quite working, our bodies too close and yet not quite enough, hips grinding desperately, breathy moans and groans vibrating over my skin –

The shadowsinger growled in frustration, my hips shuddered, and I slid forward and pushed my leg over his side until Azriel rolled onto his back and pulled me with him.

A whimper caught in my throat and my eyes rolled back when Azriel's cock slid up through my folds. My hips bucked back as my knees settled next to his hips, and Azriel's hands pressed against my thighs, his head thrown back into the pillows.

My heart stumbled drunkenly as my eyes dragged over the curve of his throat, littered with bruises, dark hair tousled and sweaty, swollen lips parted and the gold of his iris barely visible through his heavily lidded eyes; and my hips stuttered and rolled down on their own accord.

My spine melted to liquid and my lips parted as I felt the head of Azriel's hard cock notch against my clit. A soft, strangled sound built in my throat, my legs shook, and I whimpered, shifting and rolling my hips.

Azriel groaned, the sound strangled and hoarse, his grip growing tighter, trying to pull me down as he threw his head back.

Sitting up slightly and pressing my hands onto his chest, I bit back a whimper as his cock slid through my folds again, the head nudging against my clit. I inhaled softly and sharply, my eyes fluttering as I stared at Azriel. His jaw was shifting, working as he gazed at me through hazy eyes, his fingers digging into my flesh so tightly, it would bruise.

I shifted my hips, then, slowly, I started moving, riding his cock sliding through my folds.

Azriel's heated gaze was fixed onto me, every muscle in his neck visible with strain, his chest solid with tension under my hands, so hard beneath me. I could feel his hips shifting, beginning to roll up to meet me, and a whimper built in my throat, my legs trembling when the head of his cock nudged against my clit, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my body and making me throw my head back. A broken moan left me, and Azriel's eyes flashed.

My body slid back when he pushed himself up, his wings flaring, and my arms slid over his shoulders, my eyes rolling back when the angle shifted, his cock pushing against my clit and causing my insides to twitch as Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart swerved and soared, and Azriel dragged me closer, his hips rolling up into mine as his tongue twisted with mine, fingers digging into my waist, helping me sink up and down. My fingers dug into Azriel's hair and I kissed back, breathless, feverish, soft whimpers leaving me as my insides twisted and coiled, the friction tantalizing, not quite enough yet leaving my body twitching and writhing, too little yet too much at the same time, something building in my stomach, tighter, more fragile.

Azriel's fingers curled into my hair, pulling my head back, his lips dragged over my throat before he kissed my neck, deep, feverish; his arm tightened and pulled me down harder, and his voice reached me through the haze of pleasure, deep, low, vibrating through me in a hoarse order.

“Come for me.”

My insides twisted and shattered, and I arched into him, my muscles locking as my vision whitened and my body shuddered, became weightless, stars and matter and pleasure twisting through me until it was the only thing in existence.

I woke with a familiar scent filling my lungs.

My muddled senses needed a moment to catch up, understand why it felt like the warm, solid surface I was draped over was moving; rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Then something in my chest dipped over.

I was sprawled over a warm body. My hands clinging to wide shoulders, face buried in the crook of a neck – and an arm wound around my waist, keeping me from sliding away to the side, holding me, just tightly enough.

My heart dipped and swerved, and I hesitated. Then I carefully raised my head, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were closed. He looked strange like this – unscowling, completely relaxed, off guard. No deep crease between his brows, jaw relaxed, lips parted slightly as he breathed steadily. He still looked a little sallow, but color was slowly returning to his cheeks. I could feel the calm rise and fall of his chest, moving my own as my gaze dragged over his dark lashes fanned against his skin.

I blinked, my heart skipped into my throat, and I carefully pulled my arms off his shoulders to slide off him, but Azriel's grip around my waist tightened, and a soft growl rumbled through his chest.

My gaze darted up, and my heart rose again when his eyes opened, the golden flecks in his tired iris melting together as Azriel glared at me.

Don't you dare move, his eyes seemed to say, and my breath hitched.

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow, I stared at him, my heart skipping high, and Azriel stared back, tired but steady, watchful. His eyes dragged over my face, and something twisted in my chest.

Even with tangled, messy hair and dark bags under his eyes, he was beautiful. So much so, it caused something to ache under my ribs.

Swallowing softly, I carefully rested my chin back on his chest and traced the pale shadow of freckles scattered over his nose with my eyes. Azriel's fingers started to slowly brush up and down my side. His touch was featherlight, causing waves of shivers to travel through my body as his eyes pierced my face, some of that flaring heat returning to his iris, and something pulsed in my chest. Warm, all-consuming; a rising feeling that seemed to seep into my whole body the longer I stared back at him, that raged and flared. And suddenly, something dipped over in my chest.

My breath hitched, and my heart dropped.

Oh.

I blinked, then I quickly turned my eyes away.

Suddenly, something was tightening around my throat.

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow, I pried myself out of Azriel's arm, its weight suddenly suffocating. Wrapping myself into a fur, I slid off the mattress, barely noticing the coolness of the floorboards under my bare feet.

Dread crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Shit.

I could feel Azriel's gaze on me, could see it sharpening from the corner of my eye as he straightened slowly, watching me silently. But I pretended not to notice, instead curling up tighter in the furs and shivering as I moved towards the fireplace where the last remaining embers were glowing gently. My eyes got caught at one of the windows, and something dipped in my chest.

Through the cracks in the shutters, I could see the first pale streaks of daylight. And suddenly, I realised how quiet it was. No rattling, no howling of wind.

In the soft blue light, the thick falling snow had turned into soft flocks, silently sailing to the ground. When I closed my fingers around my leathers, they were dry.

The storm was over.

“Our clothes are dry.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, unbothered and vibrating with the lightest hint of a cheeky smirk that found its way onto my face without me prompting it as I looked over my shoulder and raised a brow. “Looks like we're getting out of here. Thank the Gods; no more cuddling.” The last part, I mumbled as I turned back ahead, barely suppressing the urge to swallow as tightness grew in my chest.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel stare at me, and his eyes narrowed slowly. Then his voice vibrated through the cabin, deep, steady, matter-of-fact.

“You're scared.”

I stilled, and my heart dropped and fell. Then I turned to stare at him.

“What?”

Azriel rose to his feet, and I tried not to let my gaze dip, tried not to notice the way his muscles worked, his shoulders tense as his eyes pierced mine.

“You're scared.”

Something turned over in my chest.

Gods, how I hated him.

Hated how he could so easily read me when his face never gave away anything.  

I tried to fight the pressure closing around my throat, that squeezing feeling under my ribs as I stared at him. Then I did the only thing I knew how to do, the only thing that would make him stop looking at me like he did now and me forget what it was like when he stared at me like I might be beginning and end to everything.

Attack.

“I'm not scared.” I straightened, feeling my heart pound as I narrowed my eyes. “What is your problem? Because you clearly seem to have one. Specifically with me. What is it?” I raised my brows mockingly. “That I don't give a shit about control? That I can't just decide with my head, that I'm not all rational and controlled like you?”

Azriel's eyes flared.

“You have no idea what you're talking about.” His voice rumbled through the ground, so low and deep, it sent shivers down my spine. But I was too far gone.

Again, anger was flaring in my chest, raging, familiar – and finally something I could handle.

“It must be really fucking hard to always push everything down. Come on.” I glared at Azriel, feeling my lips curve into a bitter, challenging grin as I opened my arms lightly. “Get it all out! No one's here but me, and you seem to think I'm too emotional anyway, so you can't shock me! Hit me, shadowboy.”

Azriel was staring at me, his eyes blazing with fire, darkness swirling.

“What's getting the mighty shadowsinger into a twist, what's fucking with your head? Go on, enlighten me.” My breath was uneven as I balled my hands into fists, but Azriel just stared at me, completely silent.

Something twisted in my chest, and I screamed: “What's your fucking problem?!”

“That I cannot think straight with you around!!”

Azriel's thundering voice shook the cabin, and my breath caught in my throat.

My heart dropped. Then it stilled.

“What do you think why you're so fucking irritating to me?” Azriel's flaring eyes narrowed in on me as he stalked forward.

“You're under my skin, always. And I just can't seem to get you out. No matter what I do, you invade every fiber of my being, with nothing but a look or a touch or just your fucking presence in the room.” His iris was blazing. “You make me loose focus, you make thinking slow and impossible, and that's dangerous. Because I can't be distracted, because distraction means missing things, it means death. It nearly fucking killed the both of us! And yet, all I can do is find ways to focus on both you and everything else, because just the thought of not having you around makes me loose my fucking mind.”

His jaw tightened, causing the muscles in his cheek to shift as he pinned me to the spot with burning eyes.

“You are a weak spot in walls that I spent centuries building, and I'm still drawn to you like a moth to a fucking flame, because just thinking about staying away from you makes me ache. Because being near you makes everything finally make sense.”

Suddenly, breathing felt impossible.

My voice shook as I tried to latch onto something, anything. “Then why are you still always so fucking irritating -”

“Because you are stubborn and reckless,”, Azriel prowled towards me, his eyes flaring, “and you give me a heartattack every time you decide to tempt fate with that godsdamned smile!” He stopped himself short, jaw clenched and hands tightening into fists as he stared at me, gaze blazing. “Because you annoy the shit out of me, always challenging me. Make me jealous, because you see the good in people where I can only see the bad, because you have that godsdamned beautiful mind that twists everything into a plan, because you can bring people to their knees with just a grin.” His eyes flared. “Because it drives me mad how you look at me and how I seem to lose any ounce of control over myself whenever you're near. Because every time you grin at me, I need every wall I ever built to keep myself from pulling you in to to kiss you and fuck you until I'm the only one you´ll ever look at like that.”

I stared at him, feeling my heart flutter against my ribs like a caged bird while my breath hitched in my throat and my whole body tingled.

Azriel's jaw worked, his eyes burning amber as they pierced mine.

“You are my problem. Because you´re all I can think of, always. And I can't change it.” His gaze flared. “I don't want to change it.” He stared at me, and it almost looked like he was trying not to swallow as his eyes dragged over my face. “Not anymore. Not now that I know that I am under your skin exactly like you are under mine.”

My heart dropped, and I blinked.

“I don't –“

Azriel moved, and my breath caught in my throat, my heart toppling and rising when he stalked towards me, his eyes flaring.

“You don't what?” His gaze pierced mine, something swirling in its raging depths. “Don't know what I´m talking about?” Azriel's jaw worked, and he dipped his head to stare at me, iris blazing. “You know exactly what I'm talking about. And it scares the shit out of you.” His throat worked, then Az shook his head a little. “But I won't let you push me away just because you're scared.”

I swallowed, something pulsing under my ribs as I stared up at him, and Azriel stared back, steady, stubborn, unshakable.

“I'm not scared.” Somehow, my voice shook only a little, even as I felt something close around my throat. But I refused to back away, my fingers tightening around the furs wrapped around me as I glared up at Azriel, defiant, and just as stubborn.

Azriel's gaze burned into mine, and I knew, knew just from the way he didn't back down, just towered over me silently as his eyes steadily pierced mine, that he knew just as well as I did that I was lying through my teeth.

And that he could see right past the anger and defiance down to the reason why my heart was pounding painfully against my ribs.

I was scared.

I was terrified.

Because in the span of a night, my traitor of a heart had become his. Maybe parts of it had already belonged to him before, but everything that had happened since we had left for the mountains yesterday, everything I had said and everything Azriel had let slip through the cracks of his armor before laying it all out before me – had caused something to click into place.

Azriel, who never talked about anything that happened inside of him, had offered me everything. And it scared the crap out of me.

The shadowsinger blinked, and something softened in his stance, his shoulders dropping at little.

“Go on.” He stared at me, calm, steady. “Push me away. Scream at me.” A muscle in his jaw shifted as his gaze dragged over me face, and his deep voice was a little hoarse when he mumbled: “I'm still yours. The same way you're mine. Every bone in my body, every fiber of my soul. No matter what you throw at me. It all belongs to you anway. And I'm not going anywhere.”

Heavy pressure built in my chest as I stared up at him, clinging to the furs wrapped around me, and Azriel stared back, stubborn, firm, eyes swirling with a flaring blaze of emotion. Want mixed with need, hunger, hesitation and determination, and something else. Something that was burning and deep and all consuming, and that made my heart pulse against my ribs.

All out on the open.

Swallowing, I blinked and tore my eyes away from Azriel, pulling my pants from the back of the chair.

Carefully, I unbolted the door and dragged it open, moving back lightly when snow tumbled over the floorboards, down from where it had covered the porch; so high, it reached past my knee.

Slowly beginning to plow my way across the porch and down the steps, I breathed in the icy cold air and felt something in my chest tighten softly at sight of the pale blue light, the clouds opening over the mountains in the distance, allowing rays of thin morning light to filter over the woods. Snowflakes sailed silently to the ground, a few landing on my hair and nose, and I swallowed and tipped my head back to hold my face into the cold for a moment.

There was the sound of the door being pulled shut behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, Azriel moved through the thick layer of snow on the porch, sheathing Truthteller. His eyes were piercing against the snow, his wings still patched up but the swelling going down.

He was still not back to his usual full strength, but it would be enough to winnow us back to Velaris.

Azriel's gaze found mine, and I quickly looked away when my heart rose against my ribs.

Something dipped gently in my chest as I stared up at the snowladen roof of the cabin, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Azriel moved down the steps, brows crunched against the snow sailing to the ground. He opened his mouth when a cold shiver slid down my back.

The hair at the nape of my neck rose. Something icy closed around my chest, and I turned around, my heart beginning to thump against my ribs as my gaze flitted over the still dark space between the trees.

“What?” Azriel's deep voice washed over me, and from the corner of my eye, I saw his shoulders tense.

I felt the whizzing sensation a second before an arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me out of the way.

A soft sound broke from my throat; my head whipped up, and my heart stilled, time slowing for a few heartbeats when I found Azriel's face an inch away, gaze piercing mine, his grip vice-like around me as my fingers dug into his biceps. Then his gaze moved upwards, and a deep, rumbling snarl built in his throat as his blazing eyes fixed onto the ash arrow that trembled in the railing of the porch where I had just stood.

Azriel whipped around, and I caught movement at the edge of the woods, just twisting out of the way before another arrow sliced through the air; I slid my swords out of their sheaths and turned with an angry growl, and quick and silent like shadows, dark shapes melted out of the treeline and stormed towards us.

I dodged the first blade slicing down through the air, catching it with my own swords and spun around, my blades barely missing the male's throat. He was too quick though, moving and ducking smoothly, and I slid through the snow, whirling up clouds of white as I pushed myself back onto my feet and turned, dodging and catching blades with mine, the impact vibrating through my bones. I caught a glimpse at swirling darkness and Azriel, his shadows whipping out, protecting him. But even though he was swift and agile, I could see he wasn't up to his usual strength, his eyes blazing with fury and snow clinging to his hair.

I dropped and whirled through the snow, slicing my swords over the back of two soldier's legs, causing them to collapse with deep groans, and I shot to my feet, my eyes meeting amber ones for the fraction of a second, deep and dark.

We had to get out of here.

Azriel snarled and kicked back a soldier storming towards him, his shadows whipping out in a wall as he turned, and I dodged a sword swiping down at me, trying to dart towards him. But as one, the soldiers seemed to understand and moved in, cutting off my path and driving us back.

It started a dangerous game. Again and again, they pushed us apart, attacking from all sides. They moved quickly, even in the deep snow, swift and coordinated, keeping Azriel from getting to me and me from getting to him. The shadowsinger's eyes were blazing with fury, his face twisted into a snarl, but every time I caught a glimpse at him, I saw his shadows protecting him from blows he would have easily dodged normally, saw his neck straining in a fight he would have usually finished within minutes.

The soldiers caught on as well. Their attacks became quicker, more daring, and something in my chest started rising. Began to pulse under my ribs, sent strength into my arms and hands, and fury made me snarl as I pushed against the cold and whirled around.

My blades slid over one soldier's throat, muscles working as I dodged another one's blow and sunk my blades into his chest, pushing and pulling them out, turning and slicing my swords over another male's arm before whirling around and sinking my blade into his neck, fighting my way towards the tall, towering figure shrouded in darkness. Azriel sliced his daggers over a male's throat before turning, I threw out my arm to grasp his hand and saw his shadows rising –

Something struck my back, throwing my body forward slightly.

My heart pulsed once in surprise. Then it slowed, and cold trickled over my spine.

I raised my head, and the world seemed to slow around me as pain lazily flooded my system. My gaze swept over the snow like caught in time before meeting another, gold like amber.

The pain spread, from the throbbing point in my back to my chest, and my vision swam, the world tilting around me. The amber eyes widened slowly as the snowed in earth closed in on me. Then my body hit the ground, the impact shaking my vision as the pain slowly grew more distant.

I caught one more glimpse at the amber eyes, in a face beautiful like death, filled with terror and raging fury before beginning to blaze with something so terrible, my heart shuddered. Then darkness exploded, and my eyes slid close.

I slipped into a strange, drowsy state where the world was vague and fuzzy. My eyes were too heavy to stay open, refusing my foggy mind's control, my limbs too tired to move. Sometimes, everything around me seemed just close enough to almost grasp it, but my body was too slow, too far away from my conciousness.

The pain was blurry. There was lots of it, radiating from my chest, drowning out anything else. I could feel hands, cradling my face, rough and scarred, a deep voice reaching through the fog, tense and panicked as something warm tugged frantically in my chest.

Then I was lifted off the cold, wet ground, into arms that smelled metallic like blood and like night chill and cedar underneath, their grip careful as they hoisted me up higher, adjusting me until I could feel my head roll to the side against a solid shoulder. Then the cool of shadows enveloped us.

I slipped away after. Time felt strange, sliding through my fingers, difficult to keep up with. I caught glimpses of a familiar foyer, and felt the deep voice vibrate through me, calling for someone, urgent, thundering, making something in my chest tighten. There were familiar scents washing over me, more voices, and a low snarl when hands slipped under me, the arms around me tightening their grip.

The pain grew, flaring through my body. It ripped me out of my head enough to feel the soft mattress beneath me, the scent filling my lungs, and the forehead pressed against my temple. It grew until it became almost unbearable, until my body did listen, twisting and writhing, a whimper tearing from my throat at the gentle hands pressed to the middle of my chest that felt like it was on fire. The dark presence at my side was gone, and I faintly caught onto a scuffle a bit away, and two other voices, talking against a deep growl.

After that, pain and exhaustion overwhelmed me. I only caught one more glimpse at the room, now quiet and calm, and fingers, long and slender and rough, wrapped around mine, something cool whispering over my cheeks, and the voice again, causing something to pulse gently against my ribs. It was vibrating with something I had never heard before now.

Beneath the fury, the anger and deep searing rage, there was fear.

“- you're not leaving me. Not now; there's no world in which you're not going to put up a fight and come back to me –“

Another voice, rich and smooth, interruped him, and I dozed off before I could try and squeeze his hand.

When I finally woke up, I felt like someone had dropped me midflight.

A soft garbled sound broke from my throat, somewhere close to a hoarse “Ow.”, and there was a quick call of my name somewhere to my right, deep and rumbling and soothingly familiar.

I blinked, feeling my brows crunch as my eyes tried to get used to the soft lighting. My chest was thumping like a second heartbeat, like someone had sent me flying with a kick powerful enough to split a boulder.

My head was heavy, and it took a while until the hazyness had drifted away enough for my gaze to focus onto a ceiling. My mind, still foggy, needed a moment to follow as my eyes drifted lower, over dark sheets which smelled achingly familiar and a room I didn't know. The curtains were drawn, there were bloodied bandages piled on the nightstand next to a bowl with pinkish water and bowls with tinctures. Then I caught movement at the corner of my eye, and when my head rolled to the side tiredly, my eyes met warm brown ones that slowly started to crinkle.

My heart squeezed tiredly, and Cassian sent me a slow, toothy grin.

"There you are.”

I softly crunched my brows and opened my mouth, but the words got stuck in my throat, my tongue dry like parchment. My whole chest ached like I hadn't tasted a sip of water in centuries, and I winced and shifted, trying to sit up.

“Careful, you just nearly died, take it slow.” A big, calloused hand slipped under my arm and helped me move until I was propped up on my side. My eyes landed on the pitcher with water on the night stand, and Cassian clearly read the desperation in my eyes, because he quickly filled a glass and handed it to me. My fingers grasped the cold crystal, almost slipping, and Cassian steadied it, helping me gulp down all of it before refilling it.

After I had guzzled down another full glas, he sent me a smirk. “Better?”

I breathed out before slowly sitting up fully, wincing softly. My chest felt sore, like one big bruise, and when I dipped my head, I caught a glimpse at bandages wrapped over my chest beneath the wide shirt I was wearing.

Shifting, I straightened, feeling my brows furrow as my eyes moved over the room we were in. I knew it was the townhouse, but not the guestroom I had stayed in before, nor any of the other rooms I knew. It was dark and clean but warm and homely, with books sitting next to the fireplace, the armchair pulled up next to the bed –

Something dipped under my ribs when I recognized the scent filling my lungs.

My heart swerved and fell, and my gaze darted over to Cassian, something suddenly weighing harshly on my chest as my hoarse voice rasped through my throat.

“Where's Azriel?”

Cassian stared at me, and one corner of his lips slowly quirked upwards, like he was wondering whether I had hit my head.

“What?!” I felt my heart pulse harshly.

Cass blinked.

“He's fine.” Placing the glass back on the nightstand, he huffed softly and raised his brows, the curve of his lips deepening into a smirk. “Though I would really like to know what happened in that forest now.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I could feel heat threatening to flood my cheeks, but that rising feeling in my chest was too forceful to let me linger on it.

“Why?” My gaze darted over Cassian's face, and he seemed to see the panic beginning to pulse under my ribs, because he blinked again, one corner of his lips tipping up in a light grin.

“Because in 400 years, I've not once seen him like this. He wouldn't leave your side. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, he barely let anyone touch you, snarled at anyone who got too close to you –“ He huffed. “Rhys actually had to knock him out so he could get some rest because he just refused to even take a nap, let alone leave the room –“

My heart dropped and swerved, and suddenly, something closed around my throat.

I blinked, then I turned and slid off the mattress. The world swayed a little when I pushed myself to my feet, but I held onto the bedpost.

“Where is he?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Cass straightening as I looked around for pants, his brows crunching as he squinted in soft concern.

“Are you sure you –“

I whirled around to glare at him, something squeezing tightly under my ribs.

“Where is he?!”

Cassian stared at me, and one corner of his lips ticked up in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Guestroom.“

I turned around and darted towards the door. I just heard his soft huff, then I was out in the corridor.

It was clear my body wasn't ready to be moving quickly yet. I almost stumbled before reaching the stairs, an ache settling in my chest and knees wobbling, but I pushed against it. Hurrying down the stairs, my bare feet flying over the steps, my fingers gripped the banister as I skidded around the corner of the landing and down another flight of stairs into a long hallway, and –

Behind me, a door was ripped open, and when I whirled around, my breath caught in my throat.

My heart skipped once, then it settled.

Azriel stilled. His wild gaze raced over me, tracking over the huge shirt and my bare legs, my hair that had come undone, and something deepened in his stare, became dark and blazing. In turn, my eyes flitted over him, drinking him in, tall and towering as always, hair tousled but clean, shoulders tense and still under his loose shirt, and something twinged in my chest, rising and pulsing as his eyes settled on mine.

Azriel's iris flared and his jaw shifted. Something that looked like desperation crossed over his face, followed by something heated and all consuming. Then he moved, stalking towards me.

My feet unfroze, and before thinking about it, without needing to, I darted forward, racing to meet him.

The impact of my body crashing into Azriel's should have sent him stumbling. But he stayed steady like a rock, scooping me up into his arms as mine wrapped around his neck, clinging to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, a tremble running through me.

My heart squeezed, so harshly, my breath hitched in a soft sound, and Azriel pulled me closer like he'd felt it, tension keeping his body taut as he slid his arms around me until there was no place I couldn't feel him, his tall body curving as he dragged me up and into his chest and dropped his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck.

Something turned in my chest, warm and aching, and I clung to him, heat rising and pulsing under my ribs when I squeezed my eyes shut quickly and tried to breathe past the tremble in my body, a tightness in my throat as I pressed my face into his neck, his scent flowing into my nose and causing my heart to rise.

“You're okay.” Azriel's voice vibrated through me, deep, low, hoarse, leaving something squeezing in my chest as his hand closed around the back of my head, holding me to him. His arm tightened its grip around my waist until I nodded into his neck, wrapping my arms closer around his shoulders, my fingers sinking into his hair.

Azriel made a soft noise deep in his chest, pressing his nose into my skin, and I felt his shoulders sag. His body melted into mine, his wings shuddered, and something turned over in my chest, beginning to flutter quickly when he slid his arms tighter around me, pulling me further into his chest.

We didn't move until my calves started aching from holding my weight up on my toes and I slowly dropped back onto my heels. Azriel's arms slid off my waist, and when I raised my head, his rough hands slipped up to cradle my neck, tipping my head up. His eyes pierced mine as his throat worked, jaw shifting, his amber eyes swirling like a storm, and my breath hitched.

I barely noticed the heavy footsteps on the stairs until a deep, amused voice sounded somewhere behind me.

“Nice panties, sweetheart.”

Azriel's head whipped up, his eyes flared, and a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

There was a low chuckle.

“Alright, I'm going, I'm going –“

Azriel glared over my head until heavy footsteps moved towards the stairs, and when I threw a quick look over my shoulder, Cassian sent me a smirk and a playful wink.

There was a soft soft snarl rumbling in Azriel's chest, and Cass snickered and turned, disappearing down the stairs without a care.

Tension radiated through Azriel's body until Cassian's footsteps faded away, his eyes glaring at the spot he'd stood in. It caused something to dip in my chest, and I hesitated, slowly moving back a little and swallowing as I looked up at him only to find his eyes on me again, watching me, steady, deep, his gaze swirling with a tumble of emotion.

Something rose under my ribs, fluttering wildly, and my breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, my heart was thumping harshly.

Like he could sense it, felt the same sensation pulling at his chest, Azriel's gaze shifted, became molten and soft. Then he straightened, and his hands slid away from my body without pressure, leaving me close enough I could still feel the warmth radiating from his chest, feel him, but with enough space between us my thoughts slowly calmed enough to be steady.

My heart pulsed, and a gentle knot formed in my throat as I stared up at him.

My stomach twisted before letting out a soft rumble, and I blinked and made a face. Something tumbled against my ribs when I looked up at Azriel, feeling my brows draw together as I steeled myself, ready for him to go off, telling me I should've watched my back, had been reckless –

But Azriel's eyes just moved over my face, heated, dark, almost like he was drinking me in. Then he blinked, and one corner of his lips twitched just barely.

“Put on some pants.”

The door to the kitchen was open, and I heard voices, but I was too distracted by the delicious scent whafting through the hall to really focus on it. My stomach grumbled and twisted, and when I breathed in deeply, my eyes fluttered and I almost melted on the spot. My gaze immediately narrowed in onto the steaming pots on the stove and the smells lacing the air, causing a soft whine to break from my throat.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Cassian's deep voice ripped me out of the haze. “No one's gonna wolf it all down in the next few minutes, there's plenty left for you." I could hear his smirk. "Even though you look like you might wolf it down like a starved kitten.”

Somehow tearing my gaze away from the food, I started to scowl at the Lord of Bloodshed who was lounging on one of the chairs at the big table, just winking at me with a shit-eating grin.

“Azriel.” Rhys, leaned back at the head of the table leisurely, stared over my shoulder, watchful, though with a slight quirk to his lips.

Something brushed against my shoulder, then Azriel appeared at the corner of my eye, towering, relaxed, just lightly raising a brow.

A twinkle formed in Rhys' eyes, and he nodded softly. Then his eyes turned towards me, darkness tapping against the walls of my mind.

“Are you alright?”

My stomach grumbled, and Rhys broke into a smirk.

“Nevermind.”

“Cassian, I want to see you after not eating for days.” Feyre's dry voice made me break my staring contest with the Lord of Bloodshed. I hadn't even noticed her standing over at the stove until she appeared in front of me and wrapped me up in a tight hug, squeezing me carefully.

“I'm glad you're awake,”, she mumbled into my shoulder, and something clenched gently in my chest as I quickly wrapped my arms around her and squeezed back.

“Me too,”, I whispered softly.

Something clattered behind me, and just as I jumped lightly and tried to crane my neck, another body collided with mine, causing me to stumble forward into Feyre and a soft sound to leave me at the slight jab of pain pulsing through my ribs.

A familiar scent filled my nose, blond hair filled my vision, and there was a soft sound somewhere next to my ear.

“Hi,”, Mor mumbled into my neck, and I crunched my brows, managing to free one arm and reaching up to blindly pat her cheek, accidentally hitting her nose.

“Hi.”

Feyre pulled back, grinning, but Mor held onto me for another few seconds, squeezing tightly before pulling back enough to frown, quickly scanning me. “Are you okay?”

My stomach grumbled pitifully, and Cassian snorted softly.

“I'll get you something.” Feyre turned around, and Mor pressed a kiss onto my cheek and slipped past me, taking a seat at the table as Feyre filled a plate with mashed potatoes and stew, the smell nearly making me groan.

Feyre turned, and something warm brushed my side when Azriel moved past me. His scent rose into my nose, and my eyes strayed after him for a second until Feyre offered me the plate with a light grin.

I hesitated, my eyes flickering towards the table.

The distance between every free seat and Azriel, who had moved to the other side of the kitchen, closing the pots before turning to lean against the counter, caused a soft, highly irrational but very real ache to pulse through my chest.

My heart thrummed once.

I blinked and accepted the plate, and before I could change my mind, I slipped past Feyre, moving past the table and making my way over to the counter.

I could feel Azriel's eyes on me as I placed my plate on the marble and pulled a crystal glass and a decanter towards me.

Hesitating for a second, I turned my head just a little.

The shadowsinger's gaze pierced mine, steady, calm. His wing nearly brushed my shoulder, and I could feel whisps of darkness gently grazing my ankles before wrapping around them like a soft greeting. His shoulders looked more relaxed than a second ago, and his golden eyes slowly flickered over mine.

My heart squeezed gently, and warmth slowly spread through my chest.

Because even though Azriel just looked at me, I knew the thought of me taking the seat at the table had caused the same unease in his chest it had sparked in mine.

Like just like me, he felt the same shift in the air between us - to not being able to stand the thought of merely a few feet of distance.

Blinking, I turned my gaze back ahead, pouring a generous amount of liquid into my glass and trying to swallow against the something fluttering in my throat.

I was sure Madja would have a choice of words about me drinking alcohol, my body barely over the effect of the herbs she'd used to speed up my healing.

But I really needed a drink.

Turning, I pulled myself up onto the smooth marble, wincing a little at the twinge under my ribs before picking up the glass. But before I could raise it towards my lips, it was plucked out of my fingers.

My eyes snapped up and narrowed in an incredulous scowl, and Azriel glared back.

For a second, we just glowered at each other, irritation rising and swarming under my ribs. But instead of consuming me like it always had, causing me to snap or shoot a sharp, challenging remark his way, it was quickly swallowed.

Drowned by something else that rose in my chest as I stared into Azriel's eyes, something warm and pulsing that made my heart skip and breath hitch, and suddenly, my lips curved upwards until I couldn't stop them from twitching lightly.

Azriel's gaze shifted, narrowed in, and a slow twinkle spread through his iris.

For another moment, we stared at each other while I tried to ignore the growing flutter in my chest, the hitch in my breath and the skip of my heart. Then I forced my gaze away from Azriel's, turning it back ahead – and stilling.

Everyone in the kitchen was staring at Azriel and me. Mor's brows were crunched, eyes narrowed as one corner of her lips curved upwards in disbelief. Feyre blinked, looking torn between bafflement and a strange kind of elation, and Cassian's eyebrows were raised impressively high. Rhys' eyes were twinkling.

I blinked and frowned.

“What?”

My stomach grumbled, and shrugging, I pulled up my legs and crossed them. Then, ignoring Mor's slightly pained look towards my socks resting on the polished marble, I started digging in.

I didn't listen to anything until half the plate was polished off. Only then, the ache in my stomach lessened, had I relaxed enough to actually tune into the conversation.

“ – so Mor is winnowing over before the rest of us to make sure everything is ready for tonight.”

I crunched my brows and slowed my chewing.

Tonight?

“What's tonight?”, I mumbled around a mouth full of potato.

“The masquerade.” Feyre sent me a light, mischievous grin, and I blinked.

“That's tonight?”

Once a year, Rhys threw a masquerade ball in the halls of the palace in the Court of Nightmares. On the outside, it was to keep the residents in his favor, and to remind him of their High Lord´s power. The masks usually came off quite quickly, and it became the occasion to reevaluate knowledge.

It was a night where the rich and powerful of the Court of Nightmares gathered for lavish entertainment and other enjoyments in the palace, where Rhys and Feyre played the role of the ruthless rulers, and the rest of us slipped into the crowd, taking the opportunity of all of the most influencial of the Hewn City residents in one place - to listen.

Wine loosened the tongue, and with so many people with big egos and a distaste for their High Lord in one place, one learned a lot once the entertainment was flowing, the last of the inhibitions were thrown away for the night and challenges were made.

“It is, and we all can hardly wait.” Cassian was smirking as he got to his feet. Sauntering over, he picked up my abandoned glass before reaching towards my plate -

I growled, and Cassian chuckled easily, his eyes twinkling as he shrugged and turned around, chugging down the liquid.

Glaring after him, I turned my attention back to my plate, but my gaze got caught on Azriel.

Cassian's voice echoed through my head.

“He didn't eat, didn't sleep –“

Something tightened in my chest.

Blinking, I slid one of my legs off the counter and softly nudged the side of Azriel's thigh with my foot. He turned his head towards me, and wordlessly, I ladled some potato and sauce onto my spoon and held it out towards him.

Azriel's gaze flickered down towards the food and then back up towards me, and I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him.

I know you haven't eaten. Take it, now.

The shadowsinger's gaze shifted, became deep and twinkling as it narrowed in onto mine. Then he dipped his head, and my heart skipped softly as I held the spoon steady until he straightened again, chewing and swallowing. Something rose and fluttered under my ribs, and I had to fight the way my lips curved.

It took a heartbeat until I realized the kitchen had quieted down.

I blinked, then I looked back ahead.

If the others had been staring before, they were positively gaping now.

“What?” I stared back indignantly, trying to fight the way my ears heated as I glowered at them before turning back towards my plate.

Rhys cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling as he turned back towards the others. Cassian glowered at me and my plate for another second, then he huffed and shook his head, his lips twitching upwards.

“Anyway.” Mor smiled, wrily, prettily. “Seems like this time, I'm going to have to charm the lovely souls by myself.”

I felt my brows crunch. “No, no; I'm coming.”

The others exchanged a look, then Feyre's brows furrowed gently.

“Are you sure?”

I huffed. “I am sure that Mor can not work the whole room herself. Madja can check me if you want, but I'm fine. I'll manage an evening smiling prettily and not stabbing anyone." I felt my lips quirk. "And unless you want to make Cassian wear a revealing dress to charm some stuck up assholes, you need me, so I am coming.”

Rhys chuckled. “I think she'll be fine.”

Cassian smirked, dragging his eyes over me. “More than fine.”

There was a soft growl next to me, my heart skipped high, and when my gaze flew over, Azriel was staring at Cassian. His eyes were flaring, but Cassian just winked at him, his eyes alight with mischief.

Rhys cleared his throat. If possible, his violet eyes twinkled even more than Cassian's as he lightly raised a brow at his Spymaster.

“Alright…” Mor squinted, her brows crunching. “I guess that's settled then?”

My eyes flickered over the side of Azriel's face, something shifting in my chest as I waited for the inevitable scowl, dark narrowed eyes, and glare towards me followed by stating how reckless me going so shortly after having only just started recovering would be.

But Azriel just leaned against the counter, his shadows gently swirling around my ankle as he turned his head, his golden eyes steadily piercing mine.

"But you'll see Madja before you go.”

Blinking and tearing my gaze away from Azriel's, I found Feyre staring at me, and I felt my lips curve mischievously as I widened my eyes.

“I will. And I will go on bedrest for the next week, if you want me to.” I turned back towards my plate, mumbling: “I'll probably have to, just to recover from all the bullshit we'll have to listen to tonight.”

“Then it is settled.” Rhys leaned back, his arm lazily perched on the back of Feyre's chair. “Anything else?”

Mor started talking about the masks and clothes that would be waiting at Hewn City, and I focused back on my food. Shadows slowly brushed around my ankle as once in a while, I held a spoon out to Azriel.

Carefully, I straightened the straps of my dress, then I raised my head.

Madja had cleared me to go, with reservation, a grouchy look and the order to not strain the scar that had come to light once she had taken off the bandages. It was still fresh, and pulled lightly when I moved in certain ways, but apart from the fact that my chest still felt a little bruised, I was as good as new.

Mostly.

Mor had winnowed the both of us into the Hewn City right after to make sure everything was going to plan. Now, I was standing in my room in the castle deep under the mountain, held in rich dark colors and fairly unused. The wardrobe was filled with dresses that fit the fashion down here, with little fabric and little color. Mor had given me my mask, black intricate swirls that laid snug on my skin, covering the upper part of my face. I had chosen a fitting dress, made from silk that was black like the night, long and sleek, with slits that reached the top of my thighs and bared my legs, and a low neckline.

The little fabric took getting used to, but at least it meant there wasn't a lot to restrict movement.

Picking up a pair of shoes with sturdy, high heels, I sat down on the edge of the bed, sliding my foot into one of them. Wincing at the soft twinge in my chest, I started to tightly lace the shoe to my foot.

It took me slightly longer than usual, the pull of the scar making me sit up half way through and huff a breath out of my nose.

I was getting ready to start lacing the second when the air shifted.

My gaze darted up, darkness rose, and Azriel stepped out of the shadows.

My heart dipped, and my breath caught in my throat. He was wearing his leathers, the shoulder plates shimmering in the firelight, fingerless gloves slipped over his hands, Truthteller strapped to his leg. His eyes flickered golden as I slowly straightened, trying to suppress the urge to swallow, something fluttering high in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered down my body, and something twisted in my stomach when his gaze became deeper, more heated.

My skin tingled, and his eyes returned to mine, dark and piercing. Then he moved.

His footsteps were silent, swallowed by the carpet, shadows swishing softly and brushing gently over my bare skin as he moved towards me, eyes piercing mine. The closer he got, the harsher the flutter in my chest got, the stronger the rising feeling. Then Azriel reached the end of the bed.

His scent washed over me, and my breath caught in my throat when he leaned down and, without hesitation, dropped onto one knee.

My heart rose. Then it stilled.

Scarred fingers, calloused and warm, slipped around my ankle, and Azriel lifted my leg, placing the foot with the unlaced heel on his bowed knee. His fingers skimmed up my ankle, picking up the laces, and without even throwing me a look, he started wrapping them around my calf, his knuckles brushing my skin.

I swallowed, trying to fight against the weight that had suddenly closed around my throat as I stared at his face, like carved from shadows, both soft and sharp at the same time. His muscles shifted under his leathers, stance steady, and somehow, I found my voice, surprisingly firm, and a little defiant.

“Aren't you going to tell me that this is reckless, considering I've just been shot?”

I barely suppressed a shudder when Azriel's fingers dragged down the side of my ankle, something twisting in my lower stomach.

“Even if I did tell you that you could do with some rest instead of this, it wouldn't stop you.” Azriel's deep voice was slow, steady, sounding a little irritated and, at the same time, almost reluctantly amused.

My breath hitched.

The shadowsinger carefully tied up the laces before raising his head, and there was a barely there twinkle to his iris as his gaze dragged over my face. “If anything, you'd want to do it even more just to piss me off.”

I huffed and narrowed my eyes, and the corner of Azriel's lips curved just the lightest bit.

Trying not to swallow, I stared at him.

“If you know that, why did you still always push?”

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, and his voice sent shivers over my spine, low, deep, steady.

“Because I lose every ounce of control and logic around you. Because some twisted part of me liked that you pushed back, never backed down, not even from me." His jaw shifted. "Because it pisses me off how easily you're willing to put yourself in danger for someone else.” His gaze dragged over my face, blazing slightly. “Because being mad at you for doing that was easier than admitting why it bothers me so fucking much in the first place.”

My heart was rising under my ribs, pulsing harshly.

“Why does it bother you?”, I whispered.

Azriel's eyes became molten, and his voice vibrated through me, almost strained.

“Because just the thought of you getting hurt makes me lose my fucking mind.”

I stared back at him, something churning in my chest.

The next words tumbled from my lips slightly pressed.

“Are you telling me all of this because you think you need to prove something?”

Something in Azriel's iris flared, became piercing.

“I'm telling you because I was a fool for not doing it before. And because I will never hide how I feel about you from you again.” A muscle in his jaw shifted, his deep voice a little rough when he mumbled: “That already cost me enough.”

This time, I did swallow, harsh and slow.

Silence settled over the room as Azriel and I stared at each other. Almost on eye level, my foot still sitting onto his knee, my shin almost touching his chest, I was close enough that I could feel him, could feel the strength in his body, the steadiness and weight of his stare.

Azriel's fingers, loosely wrapped around my calf, shifted, his thumb beginning to draw gentle, slow circles on my skin. Shadows whispered around the edge of my skirt, gently brushing over my legs, and Azriel blinked. His brows crunched a little, then he tipped his head to the side.

His hand loosened its grip on my ankle, rough skin brushing over mine, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Azriel moved his hand up over my knee and my thigh and carefully pulled the fabric of my dress to the side where the slit had hiked up and now almost reached the crease where my hip and thigh met – revealing silver daggers strapped to my leg.

Azriel's eyes grew deep and molten as his fingers traced my thigh, outlining one of the blades and causing my heart to catch in my throat. Then they rose to meet mine, and I swallowed softly and shrugged, feeling my lips curve cheekily.

“I've been told I have a tendency to be reckless and get myself into trouble.”

Azriel's gaze dragged over mine, heavy, blazing, and slowly, very slowly, one corner of his lips turned upwards.

Something in my chest pulsed. Then it rose in a wild flutter.

Azriel's hand slipped down again, sliding into the crook of my knee. His thumb slowly traced over my skin, and shivers travelled up my body, causing my heart to swell and flutter. His eyes pierced mine, and something toppled in my chest at the heat flaring in his eyes, swirling with want and warmth and longing, and something else so deep and all consuming, my breath trembled.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say something; what, I wasn't really sure myself, there was a light knock against the door.

I jumped slightly, tearing my gaze away from Azriel's just in time to hear Mor's voice sound through the wood.

“It's me. Meet you down the hall in a minute, Rhys has given the go.”

Azriel's hand lifted my leg, and when my eyes darted back towards him, he carefully placed my foot on the floor before rising to his full height. His eyes met mine, molten gold, then he held out a hand.

Swallowing softly and feeling my brows crease, I slid my fingers over his palm, and Azriel pulled me to my feet. His hand slipped out of mine, then it slid around my waist, turning me around.

My breath caught in my throat when Azriel's chest brushed against my back, shadows whispering around me. Then something dark was lowered over my face, and when I reached up in reflex, my fingers brushed over soft material, molding to my face until only my eyes were uncovered.

Fingers brushed my temple, then Azriel tied the black silk ribbon at the back of my head. My heart thrummed against my ribs when I quickly looked up at him over my shoulder, and Azriel's breath fanned over my skin when he dipped his head lightly, his dark eyes steadily piercing mine, his low voice a little hoarse when he mumbled: “Every bone in my body."

My breath faltered, simply ceased as my heart rose, and shadows swallowed Azriel, leaving only a few to gently curl around my wrists, sliding between my fingers.

Every fiber of my soul.

All yours.

The revel had already been well underway when Mor and I had entered the throne room.

Masked Fae were everywhere, dressed so scantily, some wore basically nothing at all. The air was thick with fumes and alcohol, laughter loud over music and revel, the crowd parting only occasionally. Dancers grinding to the deep, compelling music, couples in dark corners, a few jugglers and flame breathers earning applause.

It had been easy to slip into the crowd without anyone even noticing. Move through the people, listening, smiling, charming, saving every bit of information to share later. I caught glimpses of Cassian, standing on the dais slightly behind the throne, watchful, his dark eyes flickering over the room, or a little behind Feyre and Rhys when they moved through the crowd, making conversation here and there, the picture of ruthlessness and beauty. Sometimes, my way crossed Mor's, her hair braided out of her face, her dark dress blending it seemlessly, exchanging information in soft whispers, or in taps against a wine glass.

I didn't see Azriel. But I felt him. Felt shadows brushing against my skin in the thick crowd, winding around my ankles gently, and eyes on me wherever I was in the room.

Plucking a glass from the tray of a nearby waiting faerie, I leaned against one of the huge columns lining the edge of the room, letting my gaze slowly trail over the crowd as I took a sip of wine. Ignoring the leering gazes from males passing, I swirled my wine around in my glass slowly and caught Mor's gaze over the crowd. She looked ready to roll her eyes at whatever nonsense the male next to her was spewing, her nails tapping against her arm even as she smiled at him, sweetly and charmingly.

Asshole.

Turning my eyes away with a suppressed grin, I contemplated diving into the crowd again when a voice whafted through the noise from somewhere on the other side of the pillar.

“ – these bastards in our city.”

I felt my brows furrow just barely and turned my head slightly, focusing on the snarling voice.

“Look at them. Parading around like we belong to them. Everyone knows none of us pledged loyalty to that half-breed.”

My spine bristled slightly.

Most inhabitants of the Hewn City shared a view towards Rhys.

Usually none of them were dumb enough to discuss these views out loud. Especially not when he was in the room.

But there were always the rogue ones foolish enough to think he wouldn't know.

Shifting lightly, I tilted my head to look around the pillar.

The owner of the drawling voice was standing in a small circle of males, looking like they'd all thoroughly enjoyed the debauchery and revel, wine glasses full, upper buttons undone and baring flushed necks. The male talking, tall, dark haired and handsome, stared towards the dais, a disgusted look in his eyes.

“Look at him and his whore. Protected by that bastard Illyrian.”

The hairs at the back of my neck rose, and I felt my eyes slowly narrow to slits as something hot began swirling slowly in my chest.

Careful now, sweetheart. You're about to get burned very badly by your own tongue.

“You can tell all about his judgement by the mutts he's surrounding himself with. Throwing this court to the dogs. Giving our females to those winged brutes.” The male scowled, his eyes blazing. “Lord of Bloodshed. Laughable. Nothing more than a bastard with a stolen title. Destroying our bloodlines by making our females spread their legs for his scum. Think of Keir's daughter. That bitch is now one of his.”

Something curled tightly in my chest, heat washing over me as I slowly placed my glass on a passing tray.

I'd heard enough.

If I didn't move away now, there was no guarantee I wouldn't forget about leaving this bastard to Rhys and go straight for the male's throat.

I got ready to slide into the crowd, pushing off the column to make my way over to the dais – when the male's slow drawl made me freeze in the spot.

“Don't get me started on the other one. Shadowsinger." He scoffed. "Nothing but a rabid dog on a leash. Have you seen his hands? It's grotesque. Here, something like that wouldn't carry weapons. It'd be tied up in a dungeon.”

The noise in the room faded away as something rose in my chest, deadly quiet.

It turned and twisted until blinding hot and pulsing. All reason slipped away, until the only thing left was the instinct to rip through the male's throat, tear him to shreds for the words he'd dared to speak.

My hand slipped into the slit of my dress, and my voice cut through the noise, the laughter and music.

“You know, you really should be careful.”

The males looked over their shoulders in surprise and disdain, and I slinked out of the shadows, feeling the rage pulse under my ribs as I leaned against the pillar, smiling wickedly. “Or you might be the one ending up in a dungeon.”

The dark haired male straightened slowly, a dark twinkle entering his gaze as it slowly dragged over my body. One corner of his lips curled into a leering smile, and he raised a brow.

“Worried about me, sweetheart?”

A snarl built in my throat, but I fixed it into a grin before tipping my head to the side and furrowing my brows innocently. “Can you blame me? I've heard it's garstly down there. So dark and cold. Isn't it true even the Darkbringers are frightened of going down there?”

The male smirked, eyes following the curve of my body. “We're not frightened of anything.”

I slowly started to smile widely.

“Really?” I crunched my brows and pouted softly, feeling my lips twitch mischievously as I looked up at him through my lashes. “Why's a tough male like you just standing around here all on your lonesome?”

The dark haired male's smirk deepend, but before he could open his mouth, I narrowed my eyes at him in thought, the corner of my lips curving wickedly.

“Is it because you manage to light such fireworks of warmth and kindness?” Mockingly, I raised a brow, my lips twitching. “Every female must love that. The arrogance. The cruelty, the cowardice. The lack of respect for anyone you deem below you, when really you are the one proving just how little respect you deserve. The brashness, the cockiness.” I grinned viciously, letting my gaze drag slowly over his body until it rested below his belt. “Well, maybe you're just trying to make up for lacking something in – other departments.”

The males looked amusingly shocked for a second. Then the dark haired one slowly slipped into a menacing snarl.

“You –“

“You know, I think I got it.” I pushed off the pillar and slid my fingers under the silk band of my mask. “Maybe us females that spread our legs for those bastards…“, I pulled, and the fabric slid off my face as I smiled wickedly, “are just simply sick of the actual bastards like you.”

The male's eyes narrowed sharply, and he bared his teeth. “You. You're one of his whores.”

Tutting, I smiled brightly and cheekily, letting go of my mask and sauntering closer, smoothly sliding a dagger from its sheath in the shadows. “Now, now, careful. You already gambled away your tongue, you're about to loose so much more.”

The male moved forward, towering, dark and angry, and his eyes flashed. “That can be prevented.”

I grinned, fury raging in my chest, vibrating under my skin.

“Please try.”

The male's eyes became slits, and he snarled as the other males around him moved out of his way, beginning to prowl towards me. “You are in far over your head. I could snap that pretty little neck in an instant, but where's the fun in that?” He smirked leeringly. “We'll have some fun first, and you'll see what you´d been missing, spreading your legs for me too, like a good little s-“

It happened in the span of a heartbeat.

Darkness grasped the male, and his back crashed against the pillar, a tall, towering figure on him, their bodies shaking from the impact as huge wings flared and shadows whirled and scarred fingers wrapped around the male´s throat and squeezed.

My heart dipped and stilled.

Azriel's face was frozen to stone, the only sign of the deadly rage flaring within him the blazing fire in his eyes as he dipped his head and growled: “I'll kill you.”

The other males pulled themselves out of their shock. Two came at me while shadows wrapped around the others like shackles, but I was quicker.

Ducking under the swinging arm of the first, my fingers closed around his wrist, and I whirled around until our backs collided and I wrapped my arm over his neck to slice my blade over his throat. I could feel his body spasm in my back, and something hot and wet spattered my skin.

I moved before his body even collapsed to the ground, dropping to dodge the arm of the second and sliding over the marble, slicing the back of his knee with my dagger. My dress flared around me as I turned, baring the daggers sheathed at the tops of my thighs, and I pushed myself up, another daggers sliding into my hand as the male's leg buckled and he went to his knees. His head whipped up, my daggers pressed against his skin, one over his throat and the other pointed at the back of his neck, causing him to freeze, and my head swept around as I snarled at the others.

“Don't fucking touch him.”

The male tried to grab at Azriel's hand that slowly but surely cut off his air supply, but the shadowsinger didn't move, just stared at him with that flaring, merciless fire blazing in his eyes, body rippling with tension, darkness whipping around his wings.

The crowd rustled as guards slipped out of the wide circle that had formed. The commotion must have attracted their attention, ready to break off the brawl – Rhys wasn't interested in too much of a bloodspill. But they visibly hesitated as their gazes flickered between me, Azriel, and the male that wheezed, trying to scratch at the shadowsinger's hands as he gurgled: “What – are you – waiting – for –“

Azriel's eyes darkend, and the male broke off, his eyes bulging. I snarled, sliding the tip of my knife higher up the kneeling male's throat as my gaze pierced the guards. They might have been sworn loyal to Rhys, but he wasn't around right now, and many of them shared the same view the male had paraded around.

Something skipped high against my ribs; I threw a look over my shoulder, and the same moment, Azriel turned his head.

Amber eyes clashed with mine; blazing, raging darkness, and showing a silent question, offer, reassurance.

My heart dipped. Then it rose.

I pushed away the male at my feet and turned smoothly, and Azriel's wings flared, spread menacingly as he let go of the male who lost his footing and collapsed, stepping back until we were back to back. Shadows wrapped around my arms and waist, possively, protectively, the breeze of the ones swirling around Azriel's wings causing the whisps of hair falling into my face to flutter as I flipped my daggers around, the blades pressing against the insides of my arms as I snarled at anyone who moved just a breath out of the circle. I could feel Azriel towering in my back, could feel the brush of his shoulder blades against my head, the power radiating off him in waves.

The guards exchanged quick glances.

“What are you waiting for?!” The male grasped his throat, his gaze raging with hate as he pushed himself to his feet, pointing towards us. “That fucking bastard was about to kill me, and that bitch actually sliced one of our own's throat!”

The guards hesitated, and the male barked: “Kill them!”

Azriel snarled softly, his wings rustling as his shadows whispered over my skin in a caress, and my heart rose as I readied myself, adrenaline rushing through my body and causing my lips to curve into a challenging, deadly grin as I fixed my eyes onto the nearest guard.

“I'll fucking do it myself!” The male ripped the sword off a guard and turned.

But before he could advance, before I could ready my dagger, the crowd shifted.

The guards stilled in place. Darkness rippled, power causing the ground to tremble. Then there was a low, familiar chuckle.

“Now, now…”

The male's gaze whipped around, and Rhys stepped out of the crowd, his violet eyes twinkling wickedly as he straightened his sleeve. They pierced the male who paled slightly, then they slowly turned towards Azriel and me.

“Even though I certainly wouldn't blame you for killing the worm with the bad manners right here and now, I am going to have to remind you of the mess it would leave.” He dipped his head with a feline smirk. “It would be such tedious work to scrub even more blood off the floors.”

The males blanched, but the dark haired one clenched his teeth, apparently gaining back some of his bravado as he pointed at me.

“This female –“

Rhys' gaze whipped around, becoming sharp as darkness built around him, and the male fell quiet like someone had closed a hand over his mouth.

“Careful about finishing that sentence.” Rhys' voice was deep and rumbling and every part the High Lord he was when he stared at the male, power radiating off him and causing the male to step back like his body had forced him to.

“Maybe rethink on whether to finish it at all. Because even if I wasn't very inclined towards having people's heads for the things that just left your worthless mouth, as you might have noticed, this female is very capable of holding her own. Not to mention -“ Rhys' eyes flashed with the smirk he sent the male and dipped his chin towards Azriel. “He would tear you apart before you even finished whatever vile excuse of an opinion you were about to voice. And what an upsetting sight for my guests to witness your insides spilling all over the floors.”

The male blinked, and even though his jaw worked, he paled.

“As for the plain slander you spewed directed towards my Spymaster…” Rhys' eyes were blazing even as he smirked. “He doesn't care enough about opinions to shred you to pieces for parading them around. I however do, and this one,”, his gaze was twinkling wickedly he inclined his head towards me, “even more. She gets quite protective of those she cares about. And won't have anyone spewing insults of such kind without facing dire consequences.” Rhys sent him a feline smile. “And the only reason she won't be ripping out your throat right here and now is that she knows I would rather not have her ruin such expensive silk with something as meaningless as your blood.”

The male blinked quickly, his cheek muscles working quickly.

“Now, just in case this wasn't already made clear.” Rhys tipped his head to the side, his violet iris losing all twinkle, his smile becoming sharp and vicious. “No one makes the kind of insults you threw around about any member of my court without facing the consequences. And only a fool does so in my presence, thinking that I wouldn't know...”

The male's eyes widened slowly.

Rhys' lips twitched, and he dipped his chin. “Take him away.”

The guards moved, uniforms rustling, and Rhys turned away, raising a brow at the crowd with a wicked smile. "Anyone else would like to add anything?"

The crowd shifted, and Rhys winked, his smirk lazy. "Excellent. That means we can all go back to amusing ourselves." He waved his hand, and slowly, the bystanders started to turn away as the noise of the revel picked up again, laughter echoing under the cavernous ceiling, the fire breathers earning applause from the people who hadn´t even realised anything had been wrong.

I snarled softly when the rest of the males slinked into the shadows, and something heavy slipped off my chest as I felt a soundless breath leave me, adrenaline slowly rushing out of my system.

Then something grazed my back, and my heart rose into my throat.

I hesitated and looked up over my shoulder, and my eyes met amber ones, dark and swirling, piercing mine as shadows slowly whispered around my hands and ribs, gently wrapping around my ankles.

Something pulsed once against my ribs, harsh and quick, and my breath caught.

“Well…”

I blinked, somehow tearing my eyes away from Azriel's, and Rhys arched a brow.

“I had something a little less dramatic planned to re-establish dominance, but this was certainly something people will remember, so who am I to complain.” His lips curved mischievously as he raised a brow. “As entertaining as this was though, I'd rather you not stir up any more trouble tonight, so why don't you two go home.” Stepping back slightly, he winked, his violet eyes twinkling, then darkness swallowed him.

I swallowed softly. Then I looked up at Azriel, and something started rising under my ribs when he turned towards me, his tall body towering over me, shadows softly whispering over his shoulders, and my body followed, like it was made as a mirror.

Something dipped and squeezed in my chest as I tipped up my chin to stare up at him, soared and fluttered when Azriel stared back, head tilted down towards me, so close our chests were brushing. His eyes were dragging over my face, deep, emotion raging within, causing my breath to swell in my throat. Then he turned his gaze down, and my fingers twitched when rough hands carefully slid the daggers out of my grip.

My brows furrowed, and when I followed Azriel's gaze, he wiped the bloody blades clean on the sleeves of his leathers before twirling them around in his grip and leaning down.

His breath brushed over my neck, then his hands slipped under the slits in my dress and slid the daggers back into their empty sheaths.

My heart dipped and fluttered. Heat washed through my body from the place Azriel´s rough fingers grazed my skin, his scent causing my heart to rise in a flutter, then he rose again, and when I looked up at him, feeling something close around my throat, his hand slipped to the small of my back, lightly tugging me forward as his arm wrapped around my waist until my chest was pressed into his.

I inhaled soundlessly, and darkness swallowed us.

When the shadows disappeared, we were standing in Azriel's room in the townhouse.

I hesitated, swallowing softly as I slowly moved backwards, Azriel's hands slipping away from my waist when I raised my head to stare at him, something dipping in my chest.

“I could have handled him.” My voice was soft, so unlike me, something churning in my chest as my heart thumped against my ribs.

“I know.” Azriel's eyes pierced mine.

My heart rose, and I felt my brows draw together desperately.

“Then why did you –“

Azriel moved, and my voice died away when he stalked forward until he was towering over me, his eyes blazing as he stared down at me. “Because you're mine. You might've not been before we went into those godsdamned woods, but you sure as hell are now, and I know that you can fight for yourself, but I am too selfish to not tear apart anyone who dares to try and harm you.”

My heart rose into my throat, and suddenly, breathing felt impossible.

Azriel's jaw flexed, and he dropped his head a little, his eyes piercing mine.

“You're mine.” His throat worked like he was trying to swallow, and his shoulders sank. “And you know that. You know that you are mine, that you belong with me, the same way you know that I am yours – with every fiber of my fucking being.” His gaze darted over my face, blazing, desperate.

“You know it, because it pulls you towards me just like it pulls me towards you, because just the thought of being away from each other makes you ache, because the thought of losing each other makes you feel like you're going to lose your mind. Because anyone threatening to harm me makes you want to rip them apart.” His throat worked as he stared at me, eyes steady.

“That's what was scaring you.” His voice was hoarse but fiery. "Because for some reason, it hasn't gotten into your head that I'm not going anywhere. That I belong to you just as much as you belong to me, maybe even more, and that it's not going to stop.”

Something tightened in my chest, and I tried to fight the rising feeling, feeling my fingers curl together to hold onto something.

“How do you want to know that?”

The whispered words were out before I could stop them, weak, scared, terrified.

But Azriel's eyes just dragged over mine, drinking me in, that deep, all consuming thing rising in his iris until it swallowed everything.

“I just do.” His quiet, raw voice caused a shudder to run down my spine. “The same way I know there's stars in the sky and earth under my feet.”

I stared at him, feeling my breath tremble, and something began to ache in my chest.

“What if I fall? What if I go down?”

The words tumbled from my lips, shaking, thick, but Azriel just stared at me, calm, steady, unshakable, his voice hoarse when he mumbled: “Then I'll catch you. Or we go down together.”

The ache in my chest grew, rising, like a storm as I tried to fight against the pressure in my throat and drank in the male standing before me, tall, unfaltering, eyes soft and burning, and my heart pulsed, thrumming against my ribs, firmer and firmer until my breath stilled.

I moved, and the ache in my chest tightened before erupting, turning to clouds of stardust when I stretched and pulled Azriel down to kiss him desperately.

A soft hoarse sound left the shadowsinger, and his hands slipped to the back of my neck, dragging me forward into his chest as he dipped his head and kissed back like he'd been made for nothing else.

My heart soared as my fingers tug into his waist, twisting and pulsing under my ribs as I pushed closer, Azriel's scent filling my lungs, causing a whimper to build in my throat as one of my hands slid up to the back of his neck, digging into his hair to pull him down, closer, just closer.

Azriel groaned into my mouth, his fingers sliding down to grip my waist as his lips parted mine, his tongue wrestling mine as his hand slid into my hair, tipping my head.

Heat rose from my core, washing through my body as my insides twisted, my hips pushing forward, and Azriel bit into my lower lip before dropping his head. His fingers slipped from my waist to drag one of the straps of my dress down my shoulder, then his hand pressed against my back to arch my body into his touch, and his lips dragged over my nipple.

My insides shuddered, something twisted in my stomach, and my head fell back when Azriel started licking and sucking on the soft skin of my breast, groaning softly with need, his heavy breath fanning over forming bruises as his teeth caught onto my nipple.

My hips jerked, and my fingers dug into Azriel's hair as my body arched into him and a broken sound tore from my throat.

The shadowsinger's breath was ragged against my skin, heavy and uneven, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulled me closer and raised his head to kiss me again, harsh and deep and desperate. His fingers pulled the other strap of my dress off my shoulder, and the silky fabric slipped down my body, a soft groan leaving the back of Azriel's throat when my back arched until my chest pressed into his.

My heart rose in a violent flutter, and I dug my fingers into his hair, kissing back just as desperately. My tongue dragged over Azriel's, and he leaned down, his arm sliding under my ass and lifting me off my feet as he straightened back up.

My legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, my body clinging to his as I curved my hands around the nape of his neck and kissed him breathlessly, feeling everything in my stomach coil at the way his tongue licked into my mouth.

Azriel's steps shook my body as he moved through the room, his wings knocking against books and sending them crashing to the floor. His grip changed, and his arms slid away when he placed me on a cool, smooth surface, his hips pushing my knees apart, and my legs wrapped around his waist, dragging him closer.

Azriel grunted, his hips grinding into mine, and I moaned into his mouth as heat washed through my insides.

Azriel's hands slid down my sides to the holsters wrapped around my thighs. His fingers undid the clasps, and the weapons clattered to the floor as his thumb hooked into the band of my underwear and dragged it down. I kicked it off before trying to wrap my legs back around his waist, but Azriel's calloused fingers closed around my thighs. Then he dragged my legs apart and sank down onto his knees.

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart ceased beating.

Azriel's hands hooked into the back of my knees and dragged me to the edge of the dresser, sliding my legs over his shoulders. Then his eyes found mine, hooded, hazy, deep and flaring, and my lips fell apart when he ran his tongue through my folds.

A deep moan rumbled through Azriel's chest, and my back arched. His hands gripped my hips, then Az pushed closer and started licking broad stripes over me, his tongue flicking over my clit, sending shudders through my body.

My head fell back as my fingers dug into the hard edge of the dresser, my thighs trembling. Deep sounds vibrated through Azriel's body, like somehow, this was bringing him even more pleasure than me, eating me like a male starving, lids fluttering over hazy eyes in which golden flecks were melting together into galaxies.

The sight of him, hair dishevelled, strands curving over his forehead, wings shuddering as he lapped at me, sucking slowly, caused something to twist in my stomach, my insides tightening. My heart thrummed against my ribs, heat running down my spine as it arched, and Azriel hummed, his hands sliding from my hips. He tore his gloves off, then his palms dragged up my legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and one slipped between my legs.

"Oh." A soft sound left me, my hips rolled, and Azriel licked over my clit until my body shuddered and his finger slipped into me.

Azriel took me apart with nothing but a few strokes. Then his finger curled, another joined the first, and he harshly sucked at my clit, lapping and licking, and the tightness in my stomach twisted and snapped, bloomed into something that turned my body to stardust and made my insides squeeze and twitch until I clung to Azriel's hair, sounds breaking from my throat that shook the ceiling.

Lazily lapping at my clit, Azriel allowed me to tug him to his feet. Shadows whispered, helping my trembling fingers to begin to get rid off his leathers when he kissed me again, his hands tipping back my head, his tongue slowly, heatedly dragging over mine.

Suddenly, the layers left between us were too much. I ripped at Azriel's armor, sliding it off his shoulders, the leathers following. My nails lightly scratched over his skin as I dragged my hands down his chest, his skin warm and solid under my touch, muscles shifting and shuddering when my legs wrapped around his waist and dragged him forward. I licked over his throat, following the deep sound rumbling in Azriel's chest when my teeth nipped at his jaw, his fingers digging into my thigh, sliding into my hair, and I inhaled with a soft shudder, raising my head and curling my fingers into Azriel's hair when he kissed me harshly.

Azriel's grip tightened, and he lifted me off the dresser. My nipples dragging over his bare chest caused my fingers to dig into his hair, and Azriel growled softly, kissing me harder, more desperate. I could feel his hard cock pushing against his pants as he kicked off his boots, and when I grinded my hips down, my insides twisted at both the friction and the hoarse sound leaving him.

Azriel leaned down, and my heart rose when he dropped me into sheets that smelled like him as much as me, our scents intertwined into something that caused my chest to ache with harsh flutters. Weapons and heavy leather hit the floor, then Azriel was above me, pushing my body up the mattress until I wrapped my legs and arms around him and dragged his heavy body down.

My heart toppled when his warm weight pressed mine into the mattress, causing my hips to buck and back to arch, and Azriel groaned into my neck. His hand dragged my thigh up, his hips lodged right between my legs, and my hand flew up to curl into his hair when the tip of Azriel's cock dragged through my folds.

I choked with a whimper, my lips parting as I twisted back my head. Azriel's hands pressed against the insides of my thighs, pushing them down further, sliding my legs apart until I was spread out entirely beneath him. His nose dragged up my neck, warmth washed over me, and I dug my fingers into his hair. Then he rolled his hips forward.

My lips parted. My back arched as a whimper left me, and my eyes rolled back at the way I felt myself stretch around him, sensation zipping up my spine as my body melted into the mattress.

Azriel grunted, neck straining as he dropped his head against my shoulder and mumbled hoarsely: “Fuck, you´re tight.”

“Oh.” My back arched up into him, my hips twisting, and Azriel growled softly into my neck, one arm hooking under my back to keep me from writhing.

My eyes rolled back as Azriel nudged his hips forward, and my back arched.

“Shit.” My fingers grasped the sheets, twisting, and Azriel grunted against my throat, the sound thick. A shuddering breath left me as my hands flew up to dig into his back, my heart rising into my throat.

My body became a pliant, weightless thing. Where Azriel pushed, it gave way, with a little hesitation and then all too ready. The deeper he sank in, the less I could feel that wasn't him. Him and how I was stretching around him, him and his body flush against mine, tall and solid and dwarfing mine as his hand closed around my thigh and hiked it up higher –

Azriel raised his head, and my heart toppled over when he pressed his forehead against mine, panting shallowly into my parted lips, grip bruising. Then his hips rolled again, and something twisted, shifting into place.

I whimpered when Azriel sank in to the hilt, hips flush with mine and filling me up to the very brim, my fingers digging into his back as one of my hands flew up to bury in his hair.

Azriel nudged his nose against mine, and my heart toppled over at the sight of his blazing eyes and blown pupils and harsh swallow.

I lightly rolled my hips upwards, and a strangled sound left the back of Azriel's throat. His fingers dug into my thigh, then he slowly pulled out, and my eyes rolled back when he sank back in, starting a deep, hard, torturous rhythm.

My nails scratched over Azriel's back as my body arched into him, my hips meeting his thrusts as he began to fuck me, slowly, deliciously, every drag of his cock against my walls causing tremors to run up my spine. Something began blooming in my chest, wild and pulsing, rising until I shuddered, and Azriel kissed me, lips parting mine as his tongue dragged over mine, tasting, memorising as he groaned into my mouth, and I slid my leg up higher over his waist, clinging to him, feeling his arm drag me up into his body as he slowly picked up his rhythm.

Something liquid pooled in my stomach, something hot that sent waves of pleasure through me and made my head fall back into the pillows, and I rolled my hips, desperate for more, more friction, more -

"Harder."

My breathless whisper caused Azriel's spine to tremble. His grip tightened as he growled, and from one second to the next, his control vanished. Slid away with every little thing remaining of his walls, and his hands pushed my legs up higher as his hips snapped forward, falling into a rhythm that made me press my palm onto the headboard, my body arching as Azriel started to fuck me deep and hard into the mattress.

My insides twisted. Tightened slowly around Azriel's cock as it hit spots that made my eyes roll back until I saw stars as I pushed back, rocking my hips until it felt like my body was about to burst, strung so tightly, I could feel every muscle quivering until I was writhing, broken sounds falling from my throat.

Then it snapped.

My body shattered. Became stars and galaxies and the earth trembling beneath our feet as waves of pleasure washed over me so blinding, my body twisted and shuddered still when I felt Azriel follow me over that edge, his hips burying deep within me as he cursed brokenly into my neck.

The sheets were no longer sticking to my skin when I finally wasn't floating anymore. My mind was still slow and foggy when I pulled my head back a little to stare at Azriel. He'd dragged me into his body, arm slipping between my legs to haul one of them over his side before sliding it around my waist, pulling me so close that our chests were pressed together until there was no telling where one ended and the other began. His hair was mussed and sweaty, his lips swollen, and his eyes looked like amber in evening light as he stared back at me, the golden flecks in his iris twinkling.

He was looking at me like I was beginning and end, the answer to every question, like the one thing between the earth and the stars entirely made for him.

Something rose gently under my ribs.

"Every fiber of my soul,", I whispered.

Azriel stared at me, and his gaze flared, became molten and soft and burning as he dragged me forward and kissed me until my heart soared and breath caught in my throat and I finally understood that swirling, all consuming feeling in his eyes.

All yours.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @icey--stars @ailyr92 @azriels-mate2 @thisisew @kalulakunundrum @polli05927 @raisinggray @justdreamstars @ccucumbers @hanvstheworld

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field VI

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing

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a/n: omg it finally happened?? i couldn't resist anymore i had to :,)

anyway i wanted to pop in for a rare note and say thank you so so much to everyone reading this!! it means so much to me that people are enjoying this as much as i am enjoying writing it :)

so if you are and you wouldn't mind,, please reblog or leave your thoughts in the replies! it really helps me out so that way it can reach more people, and also it really helps motivate me to actually keep writing it bc i'll be reminded people want me to :).

thank you for reading this long ass authors note! and thanks for making it this far in the fic!! 

i promise it's not over yet ;) we've still got a long way to go! so hopefully i'll see y'all soon when the next part comes out !

xoxo, raye

You walked back to the academy, still too high on adrenaline to even consider sleeping at that point. By the time Coryo made it back in, it was nearly eight am. You totally understand him wanting to get a bit of extra sleep, considering the night you just had- but who knows how long he was with Dr. Gaul.

Other mentors had started to arrive before he did, and almost everyone made it clear they didn't want to speak with you. You didn't have the energy to chat anyway, you didn't want to. You're endlessly relieved when Coryo arrives, notifying you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder. You jump at this, regardless of his effort to not scare you.

The chair scrapes across the floor and you feel everyone's eyes on you at the dramatic reaction. To him, it really wasn't shocking.

"Sorry- I'm sorry." You chuckle, quickly getting up to give him his spot back.

"Have you slept?" He asks, making no effort to reclaim the desk, noticing how your hands are shaking as you motion for him to sit.

You aren't sure what the safer answer is. Yes, I slept while I was supposed to be watching over Lucy Gray? Or no, I'm still running on the two hours I got a couple of days ago? Neither is very promising, so you decide to just be honest.

"No, uh, I've been watching for Lucy Gray." You point to the screen, unable to control the trembling of your hand as you do. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to, so I just decided to start drinking coffee a few hours ago. Might as well commit." You explain, trying to force positivity into your tone and a smile on your face.

Coryo eyes you warily. "You should go home. Get some rest."

"No! No, I'm fine." You insist. "I'm not missing it."

"Go home and sleep." He says again, sternly this time. You tend to listen to him when he's commanding so he clung to that approach, but the look in your eyes immediately makes him regret it.

You look down, then back to your seat on the bench. You take a shaky breath before locking eyes with the blonde again. You're full of impulses that contradict each other. To listen to him, to snap and tell him not to speak to you like that, or to storm out and never come back. Realistically, he is under a ridiculous amount of stress. You can't blame him for being a little commandeering. After all, it's what he is meant to do. It's what he's been raised for. "I told you. I can't."

Realization dawns on him and he stares at you for a second, eyes widening. "Right." He nods slightly, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to you. "Just go lay down on the bench." He accentuates his point by shaking the jacket.

You smile, taking it gratefully. "Thank you, Coryo."

"'Course." He nods, finally moving to sit down once you walk away. You settle down on the bench and curl up, your head resting on his bunched-up uniform jacket like it's a pillow. You're not sure you've ever been so comfortable, and you're asleep within a minute.

Coriolanus wonders if his coat will smell like raspberries when you return it.

"What's he doing?" You hear Coryo's accusatory voice before you even open your eyes. As you try and shift, adjusting to the sounds of everyone around you, you come back to reality. No wonder your neck is sore as soon as you sit up, sore from your wooden bed, with no time to really wake up before you're hit with the realization of what's happening on the screen.

"I-I don't know!" Lysistrata says, assumingly replying to him.

You're squinting at the lights as you adjust, the figures of Lucy Gray and Jessup becoming clear as he chases her in her rainbow dress out of the tunnel and across the floor, booking it toward a pile of debris that would allow her to climb up into the stands.

"What's happening?" You ask pointlessly, standing now that you see Coryo is as well.

Lysistrata looks at you, shrugging helplessly as she stands next to Coryo.

"Hey! You promised me that if I-" You start, pacing toward the girl with determination, anger burning up in your chest and in your eyes.

"Y/N/N, wait-" Coriolanus holds his hand out to stop you, effectively his attack dog, from getting any closer. From telling her off for blowing your deal. He squints closer at the screen, not saying a word, just leaving you in a limbo- unsure what to do.

As the camera zooms in on the tribute, his theory is confirmed. Jessup has a white foam surrounding his mouth, and Coryo looks at you knowingly. Had Lucy Gray poisoned him? Surely not, he was her only ally. It was too early to take him out, but maybe she didn't think that through, maybe-

"Rabies." You say, hardly above a whisper, eyes locked back on the screen now as well. "That's why the medications didn't help."

Coriolanus is relieved by this explanation, it makes so much more sense. But only knowing what's wrong doesn't help Lucy Gray, Jessup is still fully feral, chasing her up in the stands on wobbly legs as she makes her way to what is left of a concession stand.

"If she can just stay away, he won't last long in this state." Lysistrata says, looking on with sadness in her eyes. "Poor Jessup..."

"Coryo." You say, ignoring her sympathies, seeing Coryo's mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. "Do you remember those posters in the war? When the rabies breakout happened?" You ask, holding onto his arm, giving him a light shake to snap him out of it. "They said that-"

You don't get to finish before he's reaching for the comunicuff. Water, of course.

"Wait." Lysistrata stops him, grabbing the arm that was reaching for the screen.

"Don't touch him! Jessup's going to die anyway! All we can do is try to keep him away- you just said that!" You fire off at her.

"I know, Y/N." She lets him go, holding her hands out defensively. "Let me do it. He's my tribute, after all."

"Lyssie... You don't have to do that." Coriolanus tells her, and you feel guilty for snapping on her like that. She was just trying to help.

"If Jessup can't win, I want it to be Lucy Gray. That's what he would want, too." She explains, stepping back to her desk, tapping away at the screen and sending in water bottles on faulty drones that are more likely to knock the tributes out and smash the bottle than successfully deliver it to their hand.

Thankfully, this is what you want. You watch quietly as Jessup is bombarded with drones programmed to seek out his features, and Lucy Gray drops behind some of the seats to avoid any flying glass or stray drones. He swings helplessly at them with a board he picked up somewhere along the chase, and you glance at Lyssie for only a second, which is long enough to pick up on the fact that she's crying. God, that's probably your fault.

He trips and falls off the stands, bones audibly cracking on impact. Everyone in the room is silent as Lucy Gray reemerges, climbing down to be at his side.

"God, please don't let him die alone..." Lysistrata whispers, hardly audible even to Coriolanus, who's stood right next to her.

"She won't." He whispers back. "It's not her style."

You swallow, drowning in your own guilt while Lucy Gray is talking to the dying boy, stroking his hair and telling him to go to sleep until his eyes lose all sense of life, chest halting. She closes his eyes gently, which cues the buzzer announcing his death.

"Lyssie..." You stop her as she stands to leave, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what you were doing."

She laughs slightly, more tears spilling from her eyes. "Y/N. I know you, okay? I get it. Don't apologize if you don't mean it." Until she finished speaking, you didn't realize her laughs were bitter. "You can't keep taking out your anger issues on everyone else. I'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it- sick of you." She says, not giving you the chance to defend yourself before she's gone. You did mean it, but it's not like she'd ever believe that. You had done this to yourself.

You straighten your shoulders, turning to face the screen again. "Lysistrata will come around." Coryo says, sensing the tension radiating off your skin like a heater.

You just slightly shake your head. "Maybe I... Maybe I should go home. Just for a bit." You say, but it comes out more as a question.

"You should stay." He states, offhandedly sending some food in for Lucy Gray before turning to face you fully. He could guess why you don't want to go home, whether or not you were explicitly told to not return until the games were done, though, he doesn't know. Either way, for him, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Actually, yeah, you're right." You sniff. "I'm just having a moment. I'll be fine." You force a smile, blinking rapidly to push back those stubborn tears that wanted to spill.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I just meant..." Coryo trails off.

"It's okay." You smile and nod. "Can I just get some air, then? I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Please. Don't rush on my account." He nods. "But don't stray too far."

"Yes sir, Mister President." You joke, giving him a lazy salute before heading for the door.

You had been gone for a while, far too long for Coriolanus's comfort. Lucy Gray retreated into the tunnels after receiving the food he sent and seeing Reaper come back into the clearing. Now, with Lucky rambling on about the weather again, he felt like he would snap.

He double-checks once more that Lucy Gray is, in fact, still hiding, before he gets up to go after you.

It doesn't take Coryo long to find you, due to him tracking down the sound of crying in the hall. No doubt in his mind it was you, but he'd never seen you cry before.

You stop at the sound of footsteps, frantically wiping your eyes and nose on your sleeve as you make an effort to stand. By then, he's in front of you.

"Don't get up." He says, crouching down in front of you. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know exactly why you're crying, or how to help. He wishes he did, he would do just about anything. "What do you need?"

You shake your head, forcing a smile and trying to stand anyway. Coryo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. "I-I don't.." You start, but as soon as you speak the tears start flowing again and you feel like you can't breathe.

"It's okay. Hey, you're okay." He says, pulling you into his arms, effectively onto his lap as he sits back. One thing he knows that works with you is a hug- it's all he can do while he thinks over what could be the root of your problem, or was it just that Lysistrata's comment pushed you over the edge? You were overtired, overworked, and this easily could have been the last straw.

Through your tears, you try to tell him that you're fine, but you just stutter and spit and you know you're a mess- a mortification to your family.

"I'm not sick of you, Y/N." Coryo says, rubbing your back. Feeling your hair between his fingers and trying not to tangle it or pull it by mistake. "I could never get sick of you."

It surprises him when you laugh. Of all things, a laugh. It was just so you.

His statement was more of a confession to himself than to you, and when you pull back he's scared. Was it not about that? Was he way off base, or incredibly unhelpful and somehow offended you?

You sniff, wiping your eyes again. "Thanks," You chuckle, shaking your head. "But you don't have to say that."

Coryo tilts his head, confusion knitted into his expression. "I do." He insists, able to look into your eyes now. "I have to tell you that because it's the truth."

You sigh, smiling slightly. Sadly. "You don't see it."

"See it? See what?"

You just shrug, making no attempts to move away. His hands on you, the feeling of him almost surrounding you is comforting. You want to live in it forever, but you know you can't. "Just... That I'm me, I guess." You say, voice cracking. "You're unflinching to it." You're abrasive sometimes, defensive, and some would call you an overall angry person. He doesn't see you that way, and you're not sure why. Today you were slapped in the face with the fact that your actions have consequences more serious than what your parents can make up for with money or unwritten agreements.

"What's wrong with being you?" He asks rhetorically, not giving you a chance for you to argue before he continues. "You did the right thing. They're jealous- that's all it is. None of them fight for what they want like you, they just sit around and wait for it to be handed to them on a silver platter, and you could too, but you're better than that. You're better than them. Stronger than them."

With his hands now moved up to your shoulders, he's shaking you gently, trying to get your mind to soak in what he's telling you. To believe it, because he knows he's right. The reason others avoid you is the very reason he is drawn to you- your ambition is unmatched, except, maybe, by his own.

"Do you understand, Y/N?" Coryo asks, pressing one hand to your cheek and staring deep into your eyes as if he could somehow look into your mind and grab hold of what Lysistrata said, replacing it with his vision of who you are. "You are perfect. They are fools."

Your smile had gone, ready to fight his point, but it returned by the time his rant was done, blush creeping its way across your cheeks and over your nose. "Perfect is a bit of a strong word." You speak softly. "Don't you think?"

"No. I don't." He shakes his head slightly, running his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

The air became thick with everything he said circulating in your head like a carousel. A relentless spinning cycle with Coryo's every word circling around itself and caging in your panic. The spinning seemed to slow after a moment, as if giving you a chance to catch your breath.

Seemingly, in your experience with him, compliments were few and far between. To others, anyway. Not that you were keeping track, but if receiving compliments from Coriolanus Snow was a race you would be winning by a mile, and that's exactly what it felt like every time.

He tilts your chin up again, the same way he had just a couple of days ago in the arena, drawing your eyes back to his. It takes every ounce of his focus to keep his hand from shaking.

Truth be told, the desperate honesty in his eyes was enough to convince you he was right. You are better than them, smarter than them, stronger than them. If Lysistrata and your other classmates chose to hate you for that, that was because of fear. You'd be lying if you tried to say it didn't make you feel better, even powerful. Coriolanus thought it was right, so how could it not be?

You smile, nodding slightly within his grasp. "You're right, aren't you?"

"Always." He validates your entire thought process just like that.

You can't help it anymore. The power of his words push you past the brink, leaning forward to meet his lips with your own. Coryo pulls you forward with his firm and gentle hold on your cheek, meeting you half way. And as he kisses you, heart pounding out of his chest, you both feel fucking invincible.

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[sguidwards-bestfriend]

Dp x dc thoughts and stuff

New Dimension, Who's This?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Okay okay wait what if ghosts sort of feed off their own energy supply or like humans make our own blood they make their own ecto.

But Danny is a halfa.

Maybe he doesn't make any or just not in his human form. So when his powers use it up he has to find a way to get more.

In Amity that isn't really a problem, but if he's not in Amity? If he's not even in his dimension?

...

Danny is king, he has been for a few years now. Lets say he's 20 something and he's still learning his og powers as well as his new kingly eldritch ones.

He makes a portal, goes in to check it out, and gets stuck when he doesn't have enough juice to make another one to go back.

Portals aren't simple, even a portal for something human at a lower power level needs a lot to make a portal in their own dimension.

Creating one for an eldritch being, the king of the infinite realms, to another dimension requires an insane amount of energy. so he's stuck... somewhere, with no energy source. Transforming back into something vaguely human looking is taxing so he sits on the ground to take stock. The extra arms, paper white skin and hair, and the many ever shifting eyes are gone, but he can still feel the fangs and pointy ears, his crown shrunk down to a broach keeping a cape in place, it's covered in a frost so cold the fabric around it crystalizes, and his clothing is an odd mix of ghostly regalia and a black hoodie. It doesn't look bad, but he doesn't know how this dimension works just yet and he doubts this will help him "fit in".

Thankfully invisibility and intangibility come so naturally to him it's just the switch that requires ecto, similar to transforming, once he's there that's where he'll stay.

He needs to find a power source, wherever it is he's ended up, so he goes looking. He finds Lazarus pits but they aren't bottomless like the lakes in the zone. Some are like a dripping faucet, sure it'll fill back up at some point but who knows how long that'll take. Others were artificial, someone ripped a hole between realities, probably a small one since the leftover feeling of a portal wasn't there.

Danny stays invisible for nearly 2 months as he searches for a way home, time can act differently between dimensions, in Amity he might be gone an hour or a decade. The best thing to do for now is to get in contact with Clocky and hope they can figure it out together.

While emptying another pit he hears an angry man yell "You said this one wasn't empty."

An obviously nervous voice answers, "It was full this morning, Sir."

"This is the last one we have any record of!" there's a crash that intrigues Danny so he pops above the surface to catch a glimpse.

His stomach falls when he sees a Vlad looking fruit loop tearing apart a makeshift lab in a cave. Equipped with the same ridicules cape and beard.

There is a woman sitting on a folding chair, her legs are crossed and she very obviously is done with whatever fruit loop 2.0 is doing.

He was expecting to find more than 4! If that's the last of the leaks he needs to find another source asap.

"We can head to Gotham." the woman says, still uninterested as she pulls at a thread on her sleeve. "That place has always been a cesspool for everything weird."

"Nyssa." the man takes a breath, no longer yelling he continues, "We've tried that."

The woman stands, she looks scarier calm than the fruitloop does angry. "No, we tried to find one. We couldn't search there cuz of the bats, but if there are a few diversions we could get enough equipment into the sewers and we'd continue our search unnoticed."

Danny doesn't care much about the rest, he needs to get to Gotham before they do. He just needs to find where that is.

...

Jason Todd came back from the dead a few years ago. [We can leave him at around 23, idk what age he was when Talia plopped him into the pits.]

He's angry ALL the time, it fogs his mind so much it feels like he's no longer in control of his body. He knows he nearly killed one of his brothers, possibly two, but they ignore it so he does too.

He hasn't seen his family much since he was... brought back. As always, something pushes him to take action when he would rather not.

This time it's a rumor amongst his lackeys about someone planning on killing Redhood. They don't know he and Red are the same person, so he was planning on leaving the helmet at a safe house and sticking around to give orders and keep an eye on things.

That plan falls through when a group of three come up to him, they think he spends the most amount of time with the boss and want to keep their leader safe, but don't feel they have that kind of relationship with him to show how worried they are. They push Jason to take Redhood and hide.

His way of doing things creates a pretty even playing field amongst the lackeys, other than Redhood himself. If he refuses he's not a team player, if he tries to advise against it they'll think he's the one trying to kill his own alter ego.

He has to go somewhere none of his enemies know of, but also where none of his allies know.

That's how he's ended up being shuffled into the manor by Alfred, duffle bag in his arm and a headache so horrendous it's hard to understand what Alfred is saying.

~

Jason had been at the manor for two weeks, in that time he'd heard of two territory fights by crime alley, someone emptying the Lazarus pits around the world, and the assassination attempt on him hasn't played out yet.

He was going insane with his family on him at all times. No matter what he did someone was with him.

He knew telling them he felt ill and didn't want to hurt an innocent if the rage took over wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't think of one that would work as well to get them on his side.

That meant, however, that he wouldn't be able to go out on patrol at all nor leave the manor alone.

Damian, of all of them, was the one that helped him. He still acted like the spoiled brat he always was, but he'd grown. He was calmer, not by much, but it took him longer to be set off than he used to.

It wasn't hard to convince him not to say anything, he still knew his brother after all he came prepared. An intricate knife from 15th century china he nabbed off a man with a sword collection that could rival Damians and a story of wanting to get back his cat that he had to leave at his main safe house was all it took to get Damian to agree.

With his needed entertainment (books and videogames), his cat stuffed inside his jacket (which yes, Emma did exist), and ice cream; they were making their way back to the manor at dusk. Jason froze, someone something was following them.

"Dami, do you have your sensor turned on."

"Of course I do." he puffed out his chest and stopped to push back his sleeve.

"Don't stop walking, check what's to my left." the building was boarded up. It hadn't been like that last time he was here.

"Don't tell me what to do." Damian caught up with him before adding, "The building has no electricity or anything in it, but it's weirdly cold."

Just as they both look over to the building something phases through the boarded up window. "Run, now!"

As they take off towards the manor the creature follows them. He can't hear it, no footsteps, no heartbeat, no breathing, but he can feel it. And he wants to fight it.

"It's still following us." Damian whisper yelled. then Damian answered a question he didn't ask. "We're half a mile from the manor, on the road with the ice-cream shop."

"You have your com on?" His need to fight this thing only grew.

"Just with Tim. We should never have them fully off, something could happen."

Of course, he knew that, he suffered those consequences. He was probably the reason it was so enforced... and why it was followed.

Suddenly the roaring of an engine and a black car with all it's doors open comes racing down the road. Damian jumps in first, with Emma stuffed in his jacket he can't just throw himself in so he chucks his games and slides in feet first, hugging his chest to keep her safe.

The doors shut and the car speeds off past the entrance to the manor.

The winding roads should have shook the creature off their trail. It's not long before the car takes them down a secret entrance to the bat cave.

There's yelling before he's even out of the car.

"You could have got hurt!" Tim is yelling at him, "I don't care who you think you are, you put our brother in danger!" The rage starts back up, he was here first, he was the one who could protect Dami not him.

"Timmothy I fight crime."

Tim swivels on his heels, "That thing wasn't human. How would you have fought it exactly?"

Jason can feel himself being engulfed in it again, he's vision going green and his whole body tensing. "Listen here replacement."

"I am not!" Tim turns back around, the steam in him vanishes when he looks at Jason's face.

"Boys," a calm voice echoes through the cave. "No fighting in the cave. Go up stairs to breath or finish outside."

Jason ignores Tim and Dami as he walks to the elevator. He can't look at Alfred, can't let him see him like this.

Once out from behind the bookcase he lets Emma down gently, then flops onto the couch. If they know what's good for them they'll find another way up.

They don't apparently and all three walk out the same exit, bickering.

The noise erases the effort he'd made to quite the pits, as he stands to shut them up the creature floats up through the table.

A terrifying creature with long teeth, pointy ears, long curved nails and a cap hiding a thin hunched figure leans towards him. As he jumps away the thing grabs him and latches on.

Jason tries to shake it off, but it's almost like it's stuck to him. Not physically, but there is something holding them together and it's not the creature.

Suddenly a bright light flashes and the creature turns onto a young man.

"Why's the ecto in this dimension so shit." It... he looks tired, there are bags under his eyes and his skin looks sickly. He's draped over Jason, at first he thought the man was holding Jason in place, but it seemed more like he was holding himself up.

Tim stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck?"

"Language."

"Sorry Alf, but uh... What's happening?"

The man mumbled something, he rested his head on Jason's shoulder, he could see the effort it took to speak louder. "I'm so hungry dude. Why are you the only liminal person I've come across? It makes no sense."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

[eroguron0nsense]

Late Night Luffy's Dream Theory

So I've heard a fair amount of speculation about what Luffy's dream is after he becomes Pirate King, and by extension, what Roger's dream was (recall Yamato's flashback confirming that Luffy's dream–which Ace shared with him in their long tipsy conversation/totally not a night of passion–is "the same thing the Pirate King" said.) Fan speculation about Luffy's real dream ranges from things like "host the biggest party in the world", to "go to the moon", "make a country of pirates" etc but I've always found something fundamentally unsatisfactory about these, and I'll throw my hat in the ring to narrow down the possibilities.

To recap, the information we have about Luffy's dream is as follows: -Both times the dream is alluded to, it's at the end of what I and probably a bunch of other people personally conceive of as major sagas pre and post TS that both culminate in a major battle featuring EVERYONE WE'VE SEEN AND MORE –It's something that Roger, battle-hardened and well into his 40s or 50s–shared with Oden, that was documented in Oden's journal and partially inspired Yamato's unshakeable faith in Luffy –The Straw Hats, Ace, and Sabo are all shocked to hear it and ask if he's fully serious, but several of them support it immediately and the others remain protective over it and swear they'll see Luffy's ambition through. Jinbe, Nami, and Usopp are in disbelief, Chopper and Franky are excited, Robin is stunned, but looks hopeful or contemplative rather than derisive or amused, etc. –Ace and Sabo laugh as children, but swear to themselves that they'll protect Luffy's dream and won't let anyone mock it. As he's dying, Ace tells Luffy that he truly, truly believes Luffy will pull it off, and he's only sorry he couldn't see him make that dream a reality. –Shanks found it really funny, but is repeatedly shown stating he thinks that this ridiculous fucking child he met is going to be the future of the next pirate era, implying that he has some degree of faith in this child he (likely) recognizes as the inheritor of Roger's will Luffy's dream is repeatedly referred to as "crazy", or in some cases, "a child's fantasy", but also implied to be something really pure, ambitious, and highly unlikely but theoretically possible.

When I come up with fan theories, I tend to approach them less from a "textual evidence" standpoint than a "what would pack the biggest emotional punch and tie into the message/arc/etc that we've been shown thus far" one, and that tends to inform which popular ones I buy into (e.g. I am about 50-60% convinced that Law death will be a thing because, Chekhov's gun aside, Law's been in fucking crisis and unsure of what he'll do as his own man free of Cora's legacy and tries to emulate him in Wano. And while I think there's still a good chance he'll survive to the end for other reasons, there's also potential for a LOT of bittersweet beauty in him repeating what happened to him in childhood by quite literally passing on his heart and life to someone else). Considering what would be emotionally resonant and feel anywhere near as earned as what it's been built up to over two whole fucking sagas, Luffy's dream has to be something absurdly ambitious and thematically resonant. I do not think, if Luffy's dream were something like "I want to go to the moon", that Yamato would hold faith in him through impossibly oppressive circumstances, or that the audience would care like, at all. So if the dream is tied to something at the core of Luffy's character and the underlying themes of the entire series, what does Luffy represent, and what's the point of One Piece? Luffy is, at this point in the story and honestly long before, the embodiment of this sort of radical, almost anarchic humanism pervading the entire series that seeks to bring genuine freedom, joy, and peace to people everywhere he goes. Even before any divine or joy boy associations, he's a bringer of dawn, a warrior of liberation, and a worker of miracles because he sees injustice happening around him and instantly rejects it. He tears down oppressors everywhere he goes, and he's eventually going to bring that reckoning to the World Government and Blackbeard and every other might-makes-right, brutal, thoughtless hierarchical oppressor stopping their helpless victims from living free, full, happy lives. And critically, he's the inheritor of a crazy, radical dream that'll shake the world because god knows One Piece loves to talk about inherited will/dreams/legacy.

One Piece's broadly radical leftist humanism isn't based in naïveté either; it's very clear that this liberation is preceded by endless failures. Joyboy fails to stop any of what happens and writes letters of apology, Roger dies before he can realize the dream, and all the while countless atrocities are going on with at least 3 Islands we know of and two whole races having their genocides all but done to completion. Kuma suffers immensely waiting for the Dawn, and effectively loses his life and humanity before it can come, still holding on to his belief in Nika. But none of these things will stop the coming of liberation. Every genocide and attempt to purge the politically inconvenient–Ohara, Flevance, the Lunarians, the persecution of the Buccaneers–leaves survivors or inheritors, with Law, Kuma, and Robin in particular playing central roles in saving or aiding Luffy, the bringer of Dawn. The purge of Ohara fails to destroy the records permanently. The fucking biblical infanticides at Baterilla and the end of Roger's bloodline doesn't stop Luffy from inheriting Roger's will and his brother's legacy. Luffy isn't so much a predestined messiah as he is the inheritor of a legacy of resistance and hope that cannot be killed because as long as someone lives, they will dream of the brand of hope and justice that he embodies. No matter how hard you try, or how violently you suppress people, how many legacies or bloodlines or rebels you put to death, people will survive and carry on those legacies or pick up where your victims left off because you can't kill ideas, you can't kill truth, you can't kill dreams, and you can't kill the basic human desire for joy and freedom. I think the "Child's Fantasy" thing we see associated with Luffy's dream is key to this whole mystery. Wano's the arc in which we get the closest, most explicit declarations of Luffy's ideals, in which his core motivation for defeating Kaido–besides helping Momo and his friends seek justice and overthrow an oppressor–is to make sure everyone in the country can eat their fill. It's the kind of thing you wish for as a child–an end to world hunger, world peace, homes for the homeless, an end to prejudice–before a thousand and one adults feed you the lie that it's impossible to redistribute resources, that being crushed by hierarchical oppressive power is natural, or that some people are undeserving of life or basic rights and therefore deserve to be harmed by the powers that be. Before your parents and teachers and other people lecture you on the necessity of Authority and Capitalism and Hegemony or what have you and convince you that a certain number of people simply have to suffer and die to preserve the Proper and Legitimate Hierarchy, that the powerful deserve to be where they are and that victims of these systems deserve it. It'll be something very much like his hopes for Wano in the face of the oppression of Kaidou and Orochi, or the World Government creeping up on them afterward with Ryokugyu loudly announcing that the oppression of the have-nots is the rightful and good state of the world. It'll be a simple, basic hope for good things for him and his friends and all the great people they love, something perfectly possible and right and just and joyful that people have been raised to think of as an impossibility. A place where people can eat their fill, where there's water in parched lands, where people aren't being strangled by heavenly tributes. A world where they can be free. A reality where everyone can be happy, where dreams come true.

[hopelessfool]

CHAPTER 1: showtime

MASTERLIST

"I'm curious, have you had a chance to watch the show, yet?"

A collective sigh filled the room. This season, everyone and their mothers had tuned in to see the love is blind cast and the amount of chaos they had caused on screen. There was at least a handful of other people in this room to blame for that, yet the complete and utter attention of the viewers was fixated on you.

"Yes", a girl snickered, "we've ALL seen the Y/N L/N show by now."

As you could feel a few pairs of eyes pierce through you; hear the bitter chuckles of friends and foes alike, he grabbed your hand. And everything was okay. Everything was worth it.

As long as it meant you would sit next to him on this very couch, matching rings, matching heartbeat, you would do it again.

And you wouldn't apologize to any of these fuckers.

This is going to be fun, they said.

It will get your mind off the breakup, they said.

You need to get laid, they said.

While you couldn't particularly spot a lie in any of these sentences, you were still overwhelmed by what your friends had signed you up for. On short notice, they had picked you up, sat you on a plane with a ridiculous amount of luggage and wished you good luck.

A tv-show. One which pretends to be classy and all about real love and still manages to only cast conventionally attractive people. One in which you would have to get married to "win". Coming here, you definitely didn't plan on taking any of this too seriously. Just because you needed or rather deserved a distraction from your previous love leaving the picture, didn't mean that you wanted to jump into a marriage. Particularly not with the other Z-list-celebrities-to-be.

At least half of them had to do this for fame, you thought. And the ones that were looking for real love, well... You remembered the countless promises of "forever" and decided that the ones looking for that might be stupid.

Really stupid - from the first impressions you were gathering from the other female contestants, you could already tell whose hopes would be let down soon. Because love is not blind, at least not in the way they wanted it to be. At some point, you believed, you just unwillingly close your eyes. To faults, absence, mistreatment. Even to the lack of love.

But people are constantly aware of the surface-level aspects that they are not attracted to. Sooner or later, even when you're not able to see your dates, looks, hobbies, and even your financial situation could kick you out of the show.

So you got dressed up along with the other girls, mentally hyping yourself up for the cameras to start rolling. Though you didn't plan on saying "Yes" at the altar to anyone, you might as well get your hands on a paid vacation. That just meant passing the first phase of the show - and convincing some guy to propose to you.

You heard a jittery sounding voice through your door. "We're doing interviews now, hurry up!"

Naomi, you recognized, was one of the genuinely excited participants who fully believed in the experiment. She was here to find what you've already lost. And as much as stupidity irked you, she unfortunately didn't seem dumb. She came across as hopeful. Under other circumstances you might have respected that.

The blinking red light signaled that you were already being filmed, although the interviewer hadn't even entered the room yet. So you tried not to fidget and mustered up all your strength to not sit there bent like a shrimp. Your mind started to wake up for the first time since arriving at the studio. People around the world would see you. The least you could do was to not make a fool of yourself. Not right away, at least.

With a swift opening of the door, a man in a beige suit strutted in. With his expensive glasses and watch and the way he held himself, you could picture him as a history professor. A broker. But not as an interviewer at love is blind. You tried not to seem surprised by his elegance. Or was it arrogance? Of course he would feel above this kind of job, would he not?

He nodded his head in greeting and placed himself on the chair across from you. "Nanami Kento", the blonde man introduced himself. "I will be your personal interviewer during the love is blind experiment. I'm also obliged to tell you that you can come to me for advice at any time." You watched in confusion as his hand reached out to cover what seemed to be the...microphone? "But this is not possible without any cameras involved, so I would suggest you don't."

You could only come up with a few blinks and a nod. He looked annoyed to be here. Although you were grateful for the heads up, you couldn't tell if he actually wanted to help you or hoped that you wouldn't take up too much of his time.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Nanami. I'm Y/N L/N and-"

"Kento is fine", he sighed, "and I already know all about you." Fanning himself with what looked like your file, he added: "I'm excellent at my job, Y/N. Don't believe I haven't taken my time getting to know you."

That was the point at which you felt see-through under the gaze of Kento for the first time. Heart pounding so loud you could suddenly hear it in your ears, you sharply sucked air into your lungs. You now had to rely on your foundation to hide the warmth that had formed on your cheeks. Did he really have to phrase it like that?

"I'm here to find out everything about you that can't be put onto paper. Things that the viewers care about, things that make them root for you."

"I'll try to live up to the expactations."

A deep, hoarse noise escaped his lips - your words somehow managed to make him chuckle. The slight lifiting of the corners of his mouth made him look more approachable immediately. Absurdly handsome, actually. His face was chiseled in a way that only gods had the tools for. Despite that, you couldn't spot a ring on his finger. Unmarried and overqualified for his job. Now you wanted to know everything about him that couldn't be put onto paper.

"I'm going to start with the questions now, is that alright?"

"Ask away, Kento." You would try to win them over. The viewers, the dates. You figured that answering Kento's - for sure - well thought through questions, might get you an idea on how to win the affections of the male participants.

You were determined. You deserved some fun, a beach vacation. And you deserved the dumbstruck look on your exes face when he sees you getting cozy with other men on tv. After how he left, you weren't above being petty like that.

"Well, I can't ask you why you've signed up for love is blind. Your friends sent in the application for you, which makes you an unusual participant. How do you feel about being put into a experiment like this on short notice?" Kento had a curious look plastered on his face. You didn't expect him to actually be interested in what you had to say. As a professional he was probably able to feign certain emotions to get you to open up to him. But his stern brown eyes looked honest.

"To be honest, without a little push from my friends, I would've never thought about coming here. When they told me that I had been cast for this show, I was overwhelmed, confused, excited. But my first instinct was to ask them if they're insane."

"But you still decided to come. Why?" Moving forward in his seat, he leaned his face onto his hand, eyes on you the whole time. "Could this have something to do with your past relationship?"

Sore wound. But you wouldn't let that rattle you in the slightest. You wanted to match the professionalism your opposite offered you and not offend him with your tears or your rage. They belong to someone else. They belong in the past.

"I understand why this connection would be made. The relationship ended only a few months ago. But rather than looking for a rebound - or a husband, for that matter, I'm here to let the experience convince me."

That was unexpected. Suddenly, Kento wished he hadn't disregarded his own offer of lending you an ear whenever you needed something. For the first time at his interviewer job, someone answered one of his questions to his satisfaction. Made him want to know more.

"So, you don't believe that love is blind?"

"I'm here to find out. That's what the show is about, isn't it?"

And when you smiled at him and into the camera, he found himself looking forward to the following interviews. You were a natural.

"Are you ready to fall in love?", the hosts had asked at the end of the introduction to the show. The sentence and the following cheers from the other women rang in your ears while making your way to your first cubicle. Inside, on the other side of the wall, there would be a man waiting to get to know you.

After meeting Kento, you weren't sure how some guy should impress you as much as he did in a shorter amount of time. You would have to sit through 15 minutes with each of them and hoped that at least one of them was bearable enough to at least fake date. Eyes on the prize!, you told yourself. The prize in question being free breakfast mimosas on a hot beach.

With the first guy, you just didn't vibe, which was fine. But after five more dates of being asked specifics about your look and sex life within five minutes, you felt like screaming into a pillow and taking the next plane home.

"Do you think I could carry you on my back?", was just a watered down version of saying "You're not fat, are you?" to which you so badly wanted to reply with "Do you even lift, bro?" - You chose to be civilian and just left the room, though.

The next room you had to enter was just left by Naomi. With flushed cheeks, she ran up to you, grabbed you by the shoulders and clutched on tight.

"Y/N!", she swooned, "Y/N, oh my god. All the girls already claim to have dibs on that guy."

With furrowed brows you looked at her, having the urge to say: "I mean, the bar's not that high. Have you met the threesome-guy yet, he's disgusti-"

"No, he's really dreamy, Y/N!", she puffed, "Im so jealous that you get to have time with him, the 15 minutes were way too short."

"Oh, you're talking about Toru?" Suddenly multiple women stood next to you and Naomi with their hands on their hips. The tall blonde at the front, Jolyne, had a teasing smirk on her lips. "I doubt he's interested in you two boring country-cows. Also, I already have dibs on him. Do you know nothing about girls code?"

"Excuse me?", you spat. "I haven't even talked to him, yet. Get your hysteria out of my face, please and thank you."

You shoved them aside and continued your walk to the next cubicle, which gained you multiple offended hisses. Somehow, Jolyne's rage made having that guy to yourself sound really delicous. Fired up, you walked through the door and planted yourself on the couch.

On the other side of the wall, you could hear some faint rustling, which told you that the other person was there as well. You couldn't help but be curious. What kind of guy was able to make all of the women fall for him - or his tv personality - in just 15 minutes?

What would he tell you? What had he told them? Did he talk about how handsome he was and everyone just bought it? Did he make up some story about saving cats from trees, or about rescuing children from a housefire?

What kind of guy could literally have anyone?

"Hey there, I'm Satoru."

No, that couldn't possibly be - that had to be a fucking joke.

"Gojo?!"

"...Who?"

©hopelessfool 2024

[curseonosphere]

i know i don't really use social media anymore, but there are some things that make me rise from the dead on occasion

it is SO insane to me that Lily Orchard still has a platform. if any known youtuber had done a fraction of the things she's being accused of (and here I'm talking about the things we can prove beyond the shadow of a doubt) they wouldn't be allowed to return, ever. And Orchard wasn't even forced to take a break.

Since deplatforming can only be achieved by fans leaving en masse, she's effectively immune to it due to the sect-like environment she's created. As a former fan (think circa 2016-17 when rantsonas were big), I can speak of the incredibly insulated community around Orchard's channel. For a long duration she had had likes and dislikes disabled, the comment sections were routinely scrubbed clean of anything uncharitable to the point that I have to think she either spent a ridiculous amount of time doing that herself or had hired someone to do it. I don't know which is stranger. The only way I even found out about this was when the ContraPoints Buck Angel drama was going on and some of the people I was watching had opinions at odd with hers. The degree to which she misrepresents reality and discredits her critics is honestly impressive.

You can make fun of me for finding this a huge revelation at the time, but I was 12. And as much as she tries to convince everyone otherwise, her fans are mostly young, disenfranchised queer kids who flock to her because she speaks in an authoritative tone about cartoons they like while validating their trauma with soft, progressive-sounding language. I don't blame her fans for being drawn to this behavior - it almost feels like her content is actively preying on people with bad support systems looking for a "trustworthy adult".

If you watch Lily Orchard, I'm begging you to come and look at things from the other side. If she's as right as you believe her to be, you should have nothing to fear, right? You'll watch a video from the opposition and realize we're as stupid and cartoonishly evil as we've been presented to be.

You should have nothing to fear, right?

[gabessquishytum]

We've talked about ace!Dream, but I wanna add another layer to it (and that layer is misunderstandings between idiots in love!)

So. Human AU where Hob is impotent for whatever reason. He struggled with it a bit at first, but he's comfortable with it now, so he starts dating again. Which. He didn't expect to be broken up with because of his broken dick? He didn't have an issue with doing all the work and pleasuring his partners, but even so they just couldn't get over it.

He's really nervous when he starts dating Dream and tries to take it suuuuper slow. He just doesn't want to get to the point where his lovely new boyfriend finds out that his dick doesn't work and dumps him! But what he doesn't know is that Dream is ace. He's also really dreading the Third Date, but when no moves are made, he figures he's got some more time with his kind and handsome boyfriend??

And then it happens: making out on the couch moves into the bedroom and Dream is really trying to make it look like he's super into it (even though he's not), when Hob leans away a bit to tell him the tragic news.

Cue ridiculous amounts of cuddling and other non-sexual intimacy for these two idiot boys!

This is a great concept!!! A great reminder that non-sexual intimacy is amazing and not less interesting or enjoyable or important than sex. I also love the idea of Hob and Dream both not wanting/needing sex in the traditional sense but for totally different reasons. It would be quite lovely for them to have this shared experience of other people imposing shame and other difficult emotions around sexual intimacy on them. Something that they can talk about and empathise with each other on (and also have a good laugh about how stupid people are and how they’ve missed out this amazing relationship).

Everyone assumes that they’re having wild and extreme amounts of sex because they’re SO tactile and snuggly. Dream is always in Hob’s lap being kissed and cuddled, he’s also stroking Hob’s hair and giving him teeny tiny braids. Surely they must be going home and fucking like bunnies? They’re not, but they think it’s quite funny to keep up the illusion. In all fairness they DO have a dildo on their bedside table, but it’s literally decorative! Hob puts his glasses on it when they go to bed, hehe.

[scarletlilyy]

Topic of Today: Pretentious feminism online and the slow development into internalized misogyny.

Popular terms/ideologies in Girl world I feel contributes to this!

1. Girl dinner

2. “I'm just a girl”

3. Girl Math

4. Pick me

5. Girls Girl

1. Girl Dinner: As defined by urban dictionary GIRL DINNER is a tik tok trend where girls eat random food which is comforting and or is a childhood food. Basically a combo of some random foods. Like every other trend it started off pretty innocent until it was repackaged as a means of promoting eating disorders. Extremely low cal food that lacks every bit of nutrition is romanticized with a cute pink bow.

2. "I'm just a girl": The phrase “I'm just a girl” was kind of a spin to “let boys be boys”, something we've all commonly heard in the past when a young man does something stupid but is still excused for it. I watched this video essay by Alisha not Alisha and in the comments someone quotes "You're not "healing your inner child" - you're regressing into ignorance.” and that's exactly how I feel about this trend.

"I'm just a girl" should be a fun quote to piss off men who hate traditionally feminine things, not a hoax to justify your shitty behaviour.

3. Girl Math: The third one has to be my least favorite, especially as someone who loves math. It just reinforces the whole dumb blonde ideology, infantilizes women and justifies bad financial decisions/overconsumption. The whole overconsumption issue is probably one of women's bigger issues. Like I saw multiple videos of where girls tried to use girl math to justify the ridiculous amounts they spend MONTHLY on clothes.

Yeah, let's not....

Trends like these easily turn into a marketing ploy for brands and we just end up spending money on useless shit cus the caught ur short ass attention span lmao.

4. Pick me: I feel like the term pick me became popular around the pandemic (I might just be too young lmao), so I'm just gonna start around there. At first it was to actually call out women who were in fact pick mes. A pick me is a girl who brings down other girls for male validation btw.

It's as simple as that.

It's not a girl who has different interests from other girls and a lot of people have failed to understand that. The entire point is not that pick me's have different interests from other girls, it's that they weaponize their "different" interests to gain attention from the opposite gender. So no, a girl who isn't so feminine or doesn't practice stereotypical feminine things isn't a pick me, neither is she trying to be "different".

The word has been really thrown around and 60% of the time it's just cus the accuser doesn't like the accused.

5. Girls Girl: A girls girl is the opposite of a pick me, a girl who supports other girls. But guess what my support is very much conditional!

Girls are humans.

Humans suck, they are capable of being bad ppl and making bad decisions. Aside from the basic support like providing menstrual products when In need or defending each other from misogyny, my support is conditional. That was originally the intention of the whole girls girl thing, understanding female struggles and supporting each other in those aspects.

Not dick riding each other and giving our unconditional love to people who don't deserve it. It has turned into a thing where women are immune to criticism from other women. And anytime a woman calls out another woman for something genuinely bad they aren't a “girls girl” or they are “hating like a man” .

Women, just like men aren't immune to criticism.

Overall, all these trends always start with the innocent intentions of enabling women to enjoy themselves. They slowly develop into toxic trends that do absolutely nothing for the feminists movement and allow for internalized misogyny. Trends like this will forever pop up, let us be careful with the media we consume. I'm talking about it because I've seen it in real life and it affects how women and especially young girls coexist with one another.

That's it,

Au Revoir.

[rederiswrites]

The amount of cumulative stress, both distress and eustress, that the spouse and I have experienced in the last month is honestly...ridiculous. Cat got sick, costed us $2k and counting. Truck broke down, had to be replaced, GOT replaced by what we hope will be a better version, completely wiped out our bank account for the first time since we've had kids, we are now broke. Genuinely not sure spouse has EVER had nothing in the bank, including when he was a teenager and worked summers to save for college, so that's fucking him up real bad. I started a keto diet, started doing tremendously better, struggled a lot with the idea of staying on such a severely restrictive diet, started finding more resources from people who have actually recovered from ME/CFS and started believing I could recover. That's both wonderful and very difficult. My mom tried to make ultimatums she had absolutely no way to enforce, took us to mediation, continued to refuse to absorb a single word we said in mediation, even the mediators were visibly (if you're good at reading) frustrated by the end. Finally got some plants in the garden! Rabbits ate plants in garden. Work related things I won't bring up because I'm not really all that anonymous actually. Flowers are blooming, new furniture looks great, front porch and back deck look better than they ever have. 2/3 of my seedlings didn't grow for shit and are basically trash, no idea why, the rest are fine. Best friend visited, son became a teenager, other best friend visited, planted an orchard! Not fenced yet, terrified deer will eat trees worth several hundred dollars.

Honestly I'm tremendously proud of us both just for pulling ourselves together each morning and continuing to function and be civil to people, at this point.

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch (book spoilers edition): 2x3

And here are my additional thoughts that contain spoilers through all the teasers and the books through book 13: A Memory of Light.

I was watching show-only reviews to try to figure out if it's safe to call Ishy 'Ishamael' yet but reaction seems mixed on whether or not Moiraine's words clued people in on the situation, so I'm going to stay ambiguous about him in my book spoiler-free posts for now.

I loved the changes that the show made to all Nynaeve's tests. They all make sense in context of the show and Nynaeve's character, they all tell us something about her, and there's also some great connective threads between them. We've known for a while (or guessed) that her first test would take place when she was a kid because her mom appeared in the casting lists... quite a few months ago. Ages ago. But I definitely prefer this one to the book version. It was so heartrending and touching.

2. The crimsonthorn strand throughout the tests is very interesting to me. I talked about this in the other post, but on a more spoilerly note, I like that the show is not defaulting to "all the Wondergirls feel a draw towards Green because They Like Men" and that Nynaeve is actually getting tugged between Yellow and Red in these last two episodes, as Liandrin tries to influence her. It makes me wonder if maybe they'll have Elayne incline towards maybe Brown ("I like to tinker with things") instead of Green. Though Nynaeve did put Egwene in the Green Ajah in her personal AU (which did such a good job in only using elements that Nynaeve was aware of when she went into the arches! No Elayne in Nynaeve's AU; and no Rand because she believes him to be dead).

4. Side note: thrilled that Nynaeve does not have to be naked for the test. The amount of times that women have to strip down for rituals in the books gets pretty ridiculous (especially when men doing the same kind of ritual -- ex. going to Rhuidean -- does not require them to strip). Stripping down to her shift makes the point well enough.

5. A thought I had about the people attacking the Two Rivers -- could this have been happening during the Andoran Succession Crisis that led to Morgase being Queen? And so the Queen's Guard, instead of keeping the roads clear of bandits, were busy with the civil war among the nobility, which let bandits get even as far as the Mountains of Mist. That could actually serve as a really good reason for the Two Rivers to basically nope out of being part of Andor -- "you were so busy squabbling amongst yourself that you let bandits rove the lands and kill innocent people". I'm not certain if the timeline matches up, but I will put it out there as a theory.

6. Her second test is based on the same worries that she had in the books -- that she's abandoned the Two Rivers and she won't be there when they need her and someone who isn't a good Wisdom will have taken over for her -- but shifted the details to hit harder in the show version, and to use characters that the show viewers are already familiar with. It really worked for me. I also liked them essentially using Perrin's lies about Rand to Tam in the books for Nynaeve here instead, where it makes a lot more sense -- she doesn't want to steal the only comfort that she can give a dying man by telling him that his son is dead.

7. Liandrin genuinely got herself invested in Nynaeve! I liked seeing that. I really like that the show is giving more emotional depth to our Darkfriends. Both Sheriam and Liandrin come across as very genuinely upset that Nynaeve hasn't returned through the arches. Because they both think of themselves as the good guys! Liandrin's motives in the show seems to be along the lines of "You need to have power so that others can't have power over you" while Sheriam's in the books were about being Black Ajah essentially to get ahead in the Tower but never expecting that she would actually need to do anything TOO terribly bad in exchange. Neither of them wanted Nynaeve to die or get hurt (they were both probably hoping to turn her to the Black Ajah). It's also really funny that it's entirely possible that they do not know that the other one is also Black Ajah.

8. Theory: being able to sense latent channelers may be a Talent rather than something either everyone or no one can do. Because it's one specific damane who comes out to point out the individual women to get dragged off to be damane, rather than it being the two women who were used to attack the village.

They are hitting the dehumanization angle hard. Egwene's 'training' is going to be so hard to watch.

9. Ishamael doesn't seem like he was expecting to find Perrin here, so I don't think Ingtar has been in regular contact with him. I really do wonder where exactly the Darkfriend social happened, timeline-wise, to the rest of the season thus far.

10. Ah, goodbye, Uno. I'll miss you, but you went out like a boss. Given the changes that were made to the plot, this does make a ton of sense -- Uno is not a man who backs down easily and he's also not a plot-relevant character really... ever, at any point. He's a fun character for flavor but someone who can be sacrificed to illustrate a narrative point without needing to change any of the story in the future.

11. Changing Logain to being able to see men who can channel as opposed to ta'veren makes a lot of sense on a practical level -- Mat was sitting right next to Rand, so if he saw ta'veren, then he would have seen both of them glowing; making it about Rand being a channeling focuses Logain's attention and memory in on Rand specifically.

12. Rand being kept out of the knowledge loop here kinda cracks me up because "Rand is on an information diet" is something that kept coming up in the books and it frustrated me so much because, in the books, it was consistently a result of his allies just never being willing to tell him a fucking thing ever unless he bullied them into it or spied on them. It makes a lot more sense here that he doesn't know what's going on with anyone else's plotlines! Taking something frustrating from the books and making it make sense is a really good habit that the show has been doing.

13. Lanfear continues to be the funniest girl in the world. She is just on cloud nine so far in s2, cruising along living her best life. Also, we see that her inn cheekily has her personal symbols as their sign.

14. Given how much Rand is experiencing the class divide in Cairhien and how much he's seen the poor get mistreated and looked down on by the rich and titled, I almost wonder if he isn't going to get a bit of Mat's arc from the books when he finds out that Elayne is a noble and needs to realize that she's not like the Cairhienin nobles.

15. Mat escaping from one abusive situation only to land right into another one definitely reminds me of the Tylin->Tuon pipeline in the books, of course. The main difference being is that we're dealing with mother figures in the show and not 'romances' (please take that word with a very large grain of salt). Possibly the biggest way that they can set Mat x Tuon up for success is actually showing us her relationship with her mother and how toxic and cruel the environment that she grew up in is. I feel like not killing off the old Empress at all and instead having Tuon take over a faction of the people and split off them off from the Empire would give us a sense that she really IS Not Like The Other Seanchan, instead of just wanting people to believe Mat when he says it despite there being no evidence in Tuon's actual behavior (I'm trying to remember who originally suggested that idea, but it was a while ago, so I have forgotten; I'm sorry!).

16. Liandrin grinding in to Mat how worthless and what an awful friend he is will, presumably, be some pretty good setup for him to show himself to be both loyal and vital in the final episode, though there will probably be more pain for him in the upcoming episodes (maybe involving what happens with Min's viewing about him stabbing Rand).

17. Lanfear is buzzing on such a high of getting show off of her Personal Dragon to a fancy group of lords and ladies at the start of this party.

18. Rand's conversation with Moiraine's sister is particularly fascinating! There's a queen of Cairhien but I suspect that it's not a Damodred (maybe I'll be wrong and Anvaere is the queen! We'll see!). That Anvaere reaches out to the mysterious ~outlander lord~ and shares so much with him is very intriguing, especially if we end up seeing her again later in the season (once Moiraine arrives in Cairhien?).

18. Here is where the cracks in Lanfear's illusion of perfect happiness with her New Lews Therin are beginning to show: he's keeping secrets from her, he's doubting her, and then he just leaves her behind. She is probably getting some very unhappy flashbacks right about now.

19. I wonder if Rand's bad experience with Logain here will inform his choices in the future. In the books, there isn't really a good reason for him to give Taim free rein over the school, but if it's more of a "Taim vs Logain" situation and he already doesn't trust Logain (and Taim appears less affected by the madness), then him trusting Taim might make more sense.

20. Mat being released from a prison cell and not knowing where to go and then (temporarily in this case) returning to his prison gives me echoes of "Mat inexplicably appears by magic in Ebou fucking Dar, a place that treated him like shit for months" from A Memory of Light, lol.

21. Perrin feeling wary about getting too wolfy because of his encounter with Ishamael feels like a much better reason that we got in the books... though I wonder if we'll follow it up by having him meet... shit, the guy who lost himself to the wolf; do not remember his name. But I'm thrilled to have him hanging out with Elyas and the wolves (Hopper?) for now.

22. Liandrin calling Mat Cauthon, agent of chaos, "nothing if not predictable" feels like it needs to bite her in the ass at some point.

23. Yeah, on rewatch, the sex dream is definitely Lanfear feeling like she can finally show her possessiveness and anger in Rand's dream. She is MAD at him for keeping secrets and leaving without her, but she can't show it when he's awake because it doesn't fit her carefully crafted persona. She does NOT like her men with an air of mystery -- she wants to know every tiny thing that he's thinking and feeling. I wonder if Rand actually did light the roof on fire or if Lanfear helped it along -- she's definitely taking advantage of his vulnerability in the aftermath of the fire. "If you ever leave me like that again, I will kill you." Yeah, that's absolutely Lanfear.

And, you know, her inn burning down does mean that she doesn't have to worry about dealing with it anymore. Now that she's had a taste of Rand in fancy coats, I think she probably wants to try to figure out a way to make it happen again.

24. Nynaeve's dream does have a couple of painful easter eggs in it -- Mat gets a wound over his eye; Perrin gets killed by an axe.

Nynaeve does forcibly bring back the arches in the books too, just without so much happening in the illusionary life. But I liked this a lot because of how much it gave us from the other characters who believed that Nynaeve was dead.

25. So, my theories about what we might get in episode four. Wow.

Rand's trajectory... I don't think he's done with Logain. But I feel like ep4 is going to be a big one for him, based on the title (Daughter of the Night). Rand may find out the truth about Selene in this episode, which would be a. be a pretty big betrayal but also b. might make him realize that it's not likely that the Dark One is actually dead.

Moiraine is presumably on her way to Cairhien right now, but it doesn't seem like she thinks Rand himself is there, but more that she's investigating the poem situation, so they may run across each other by accident.

Everyone is going to get to react to Nynaeve powering her way out of the arches (like a boss). I am very curious if Lan is going to spend an episode in the Tower before going after Moiraine... but if Actual Lan goes to the Tower... hard to imagine he wouldn't tell Nynaeve, at least, that Rand is still alive. He knows how deeply Nynaeve cares about the Two Rivers kids.

Unless Liandrin tricks Nynaeve, Elayne, and Egwene into leaving the Tower before Lan arrives there?

Where are Mat and Min going! Mat can't be going after Egwene & co to save them because... nothing to save them from at the moment. Where would Liandrin want him to be led? Falme? I mean, maybe, but he can't channel, so it's not a secure prison for Mat like it would be for the girls.

Perrin's storyline is going to teach us more about the Seanchan and wolfbrothering, I imagine. Maybe some scouting. He can truthfully tell any Seanchan soldiers (if he runs across any) that he's taken the oaths.

Will we follow right on from episode 3 or is there going to be a timeskip to give the characters some time to travel to new locations?

[xerith-42]

oo ship idea!! asch x phys is a popular one:)

I'm assuming you meant Rhys, and while I'm not surprised this is a popular ship, it's one I've never written.

First time for everything

Asch's castle was depressingly empty. It was something Rhys tried not to think about too often, busying himself with studies or stocking up the library he was allowed to access. It always infuriated him that the Royal Library was shut off from him, but he never expressed such a thing to anyone. Just spend his days wandering the empty castle, stocking the boring shelves of this library. He never expressed his dissatisfaction with this empty castle. He still considered himself lucky to even be in this castle half the time.

Rhys was smart. He never doubted that. He was able to be humble about that fact, yet there was still that lingering part of him that feared he somehow didn't deserve to be here. That he had somehow faked his way through an entire apprenticeship and relationship with the prince of Daemos. It sounded ridiculous, but it never stopped him from thinking it.

"Are you busy?" Asch suddenly asked. Rhys jumped with surprise, looking up from the page he nearly had his nose buried in. Asch was leaning over the table in the library, his hair falling forward slightly as he looked into Rhys' eyes. One major thing made Rhys doubt his entire career path. His never ending crush on the Prince of Daemos. How could he be his right hand man when he wanted to court him?

"N-Not particularly," Rhys finally stuttered out. "Why do you ask?"

"I..." Asch looked around, before pulling a chair over and sliding into it naturally. Suddenly the same height made the scene more intimate. It didn't help Rhys' ongoing crisis when he heard how low Asch's voice could be when he whispered. "I need something from the Royal Library."

"Why are you asking me? I'm forbidden to go in there."

"But you want to."

"That is besides the point."

"Rhys, I don't know how to navigate a library, you do."

"Not one I've never been in." Asch rolled his eyes, and that managed to make a cheeky smile break out across Rhys' face. He wanted to help Asch with this more than anything. He just had to put up a bit of a fight so the prince wouldn't get suspicious at his eagerness to break castle rules.

"Please, Rhys, I need your help with this." That single word was Rhys' weakness. Anytime Asch said that, Rhys was guaranteed to help, and Asch knew it. "Please." Rhys let out a sigh, still pretending that he had to be talked into this.

"What are we looking for?" Asch's face broke out into a smile as he reached into his shirt and pulled out an old worn down piece of paper. On it was a list of ingredients, only about half of them Rhys recognized. It was in Lady Grandma's handwriting. Asch pointed to the bottom part of the list, three different book titles, all marked as being in the Royal Library.

"Lady Grandma has tasked me to start gathering the items on this list. Some will be easier than others, but I figured you could help me with these." Rhys looked over the rest of the page.

"What is this for?" Asch flinched, tempted to pull the page away. Then again, if he was going through with this, Rhys would find out eventually.

"I'll tell you later. We've got a short window to work on right now." Asch somehow leaned in even closer, and Rhys had to fight every part of his body that told him to kiss Asch. Not important. "Bish and my brother will be gone for another three moons, and Lady Grandma said she's willing to open the library for us, but we still have a very short amount of time before someone gets suspicious of how long we've been gone."

"Sounds like we need to get to work."

"Meet me in the east wing, last door before the Royal Hall, just as the moon rises again."

"You have my word I'll be there, Prince Asch." Asch got this look to him, not quite the cocky grin Rhys was used to. it seemed... softer. Like he knew something Rhys didn't, but kept it to himself.

"I'm sure you will."

And when the moon rose, Rhys was waiting nearby the library, book in hand as he leaned against the wall. He was at least trying to act casual. Trying. When Asch slid up next to him and their shoulders bumped against one another, he could tell he was failing. Just their shoulders bumping together was enough to have him blushing like an idiot and struggling to hold his book up.

"Ten seconds," Asch whispered. A shiver went down Rhys' spine hearing his quiet voice directly in his ear. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, and counted. Ten seconds past, and they heard the sound of the Royal Library doors being opened. Asch suddenly grabbed Rhys' hand and took off, causing Rhys to nearly trip over himself, only catching his footing once his book had been abandoned. He'd come for it later.

Not much else mattered when he and Asch were racing hand in hand through the Royal Library, ducking past a shelf before they paused, backs against the case to catch their breaths. Asch shoved the paper into Rhys' hands, and while he initially struggled to read the titles, he had an easier time. All of them books on human souls and magic.

"Know where they are?" Asch asked quietly.

"Yes. They'll be hidden, back corner, left side," Rhys answered, and the moment the words left his mouth, Asch took off again. this time Rhys managed to keep up, though his eyes wandered as they raced through the musty library. Asch stopped suddenly, making Rhys slam into his back. "Prince Asch, why--"

Asch brought an arm around him and dragged him into the nearest alcove, before putting a hand over Rhys' mouth. He kept his gaze elsewhere, listening for whatever might be a threat to them getting found out. All Rhys could focus on was how warm Asch's hand was, how beautiful he looked towering over him, and how close their bodies were. Their chests were nearly touching in the cramped space, and it seemed like Asch didn't notice.

Eventually he let out a sigh of relief and dropped his hand, turning to look down at the daemos below him. Then he realized how close they were to each other, and how dark Rhys' cheeks were. Oh. Asch smiled again, that same soft grin, and this time he let out a muted laugh. Only loud enough for them to hear.

"What are you laughing at?" Rhys asked, his voice coming out more pouty than he intended. Asch let out that laugh again, leaning in close enough that Rhys could feel his breath on his face.

"How much you want to kiss me," Asch replied, bringing a hand to Rhys' chin. "Don't think I haven't seen the way you look at me." Rhys' breathing picked up, his hands digging into the shelf behind him.

"I-i haven't a clue what you're talking about, P-Prince."

"Sure you don't. That's why you're pushing me away and telling me to stop, right?" Rhys went silent, and that was all the invitation Asch needed to close the minuscule distance between their lips. Rhys' previously frozen hands jumped to Asch's cheeks, pulling him in closer, leaning into the kiss like it was his last moment alive. It had been two seconds and he was already addicted to the feeling. He needed it like he needed to breathe.

And to his absolute delight, Asch returned a similar affection, pulling Rhys closer by his hips and holding him in place. Their quest of whatever they were doing was long forgotten in Rhys' mind, just pushing into Asch hoping for another second of this sweet bliss. The sound of shuffling from nearby made them both freeze, eyes wide open and looking around, lips still locked. Another shuffle, and then a skittering away. Asch finally pulled away, but he kept his hands where they were.

"The Guardians are growing restless. We need to get going," He said, surprisingly calm given the scenario. All Rhys could notice was how pretty his cheeks looked when they were blushing that brightly. "Rhys, we need to go!"

"R-right, sorry, let's go!" Rhys said back, this time taking the lead as they approached the final bookcase. He barely managed to get his eyes to focus on the paper, and struggled even more to find the books in question. And for once it wasn't because of his awful sight. It was because he kept wanting to look at Asch's lips, to pull him into another kiss, to have another moment like that. He finally managed to find the three books, one of them a normal size he was used to, one significantly smaller, and the other nearing the weight of a hefty tome. Asch carried it without question.

It meant their escape was less romantic as they weren't running hand in hand anymore, but when they stumbled out of the library still breathing, it was worth it. The doors creaked closed behind them, and in the following silence they could both hear the others heavy breathing. Asch glanced down at Rhys, who looked up at him wide eyed and almost in awe.

"Let's get these to Lady Grandma's potion room," Asch instructed as he adjusted how he was carrying the tome. "And when we're done with that, I can take you back to my chambers."

"Y-Yes, Prince Asch."

[bluebudgie]

Behold! The long announced whiny pissbaby gamer rage essay that noone on the internet asked for.

Disclaimer up front: This is about Eff Eff Sixteen. If you're a fan of this game I advise you to just ignore this because I genuinely don't want to piss into your morning coffee with my negativity. I will rip this game several new assholes. You have been warned.

FAQ Q: Don't you have anything better to spend your time on than writing a ridiculously lengthy internet text post about a video game whose existence you are free to simply ignore? A: Yes, but this matter is personal. I'm writing this for the sake of carthasis. Closure. To be free of the rage that has possessed me for the past months. Q: Have you tried touching grass? A: I have sat in a field of grass for a prolonged amount of time prior to writing this. I am beyond the need of touching grass. Q: Do you expect anyone to actually read all this? A: No.

Spoilers ahead, obviously. Let's go.

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Table of Contents

Introduction: Is this the worst game ever made? 1.1 It's personal 1.2 Pre-release & producer statements

The battle system

The narrative 3.1 Storytelling and morality 3.2 Pacing 3.3 Visuals 3.4 Characters 3.4.1 The game's biggest mistake 3.4.2 The state of women 3.5 Music

Credit where credit is due 4.1 It's personal again

Conclusion

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1. Introduction: Is this the worst game ever made? What a strange way to start, you may think. Shouldn't this question rather be addressed in a conclusion at the end? I want to set the record straight from the start: No, it is not the worst game ever made. All things considered I don't even think it's the worst game of its series. And yet I have never in my life felt such unbridled hatred for a video game, or honestly, any piece of entertainment media I can currently think of. Why is that?

1.1 It's personal Usually I'm pretty good at doing the sensible thing people should do when they don't like something - ignore it. Why bother wasting your energy deliberately seeking out something that you know will make you angry?

Hear me out for a moment, I'll have to go on a tangent here.

I didn't actively get into the series until a year before FFXIII released - which at this point in time is 15 years ago now, but considering we've had only two more (singleplayer) mainline games since then, it's still a relatively late entry point. This is to say: I don't think I'm wearing the worst nostalgia goggles, but I do have a long history with the series nonetheless. These games have played a big role in my life for those past 15 years.

I used to roll my eyes at the "the series died after FFX" crowd. FFXII is one of the best in the series, sure FFXIII was a landslide miss for me, but... that's one game, right. Then FFXV's release drew closer. I did not like what I saw, for many reasons I won't detail now. What did I do? I blacklisted the game's name on all social media platforms, and didn't hear anything about it anymore. To this day I haven't actually seen much of it, though I do know the rough outline. And I know that while the game has a dedicated fanbase, it has also received its fair share of harsh criticism.

Why am I telling you all this?

1.2 Pre-release & producer statements

A few years ago, FFXVI was announced. And I have to be honest: I was negatively biased from the start. I hadn't been happy with SE's general direction for years and I wasn't particularly hopeful for this entry either. But - and I want to make this very clear - I was open to give this game a fair chance. The announcement trailer didn't really hook me but it looked alright, some visual and audio gripes aside. I was... cautiously curious. Not quite enough to call it optimistic, but I wanted to be hopeful.

You know what's excellent at crushing hopes? Game producer interviews that range from "that's a severely stupid opinion to have but you do you" aka (paraphrased) "our traditionally turn-based series can't be turn-based anymore because in order to get the production costs covered we have to appeal to the masses, and the masses are kids who love action and not outdated combat systems in which you have to navigate menus to act" (source); to downright offensive statements such as "we are creating a fantasy world based on reality and therefore black people can't exist in our european medieval setting" (source); and "I have gamer pride so I don't want to feature an easy difficulty setting in my game" (source - for clarity's sake there are accessibility options in the game in the form of equipment that helps simplify combat, however the statement itself is still really goddamn stupid).

And I know these statements have been called out by some - but it definitely didn't blow up as much as it should have considering the popularity of this franchise. It's an open secret why this is the case (if you're out of the loop: the game producer in question is an untouchable god with a really large cult fan following), and quite frankly I believe this is probably where the first seeds of my hatred were sown. Knowing that no matter what FFXVI was going to be it would have people defend it out of their blind commitment to the team behind the game's development, left a.... spiteful aftertaste in my mouth.

Ironically looking back now, and plain offensive statements aside, my biggest concern for the game itself was actually the combat system. I'm definitely part of the old-school "a main series FF game needs turn-based combat" crowd. Oh sweet summer child.

At this point I decided it would be better to go the FFXV route (which, by the way, had some similarly stupid dev comments at its release). All marketing made it clear that I was not the target audience for this game, so best to just ignore its existence.

That worked... alright...ish... until the demo's release. I guess you could say curiousity killed the cat. I decided to take a look at someone's playthrough... and that's where my initial "pissbaby gamer rage" draft that I ended up not posting came from. Go big or go home, if I wanted to be angry about this game in public I should at least be fair and wait for the full release. Not judge the game by its (admittedly generous in length) demo. Get the full receipts, see it for all that it is in its entirety. I think in a way I still didn't want to give up hope completely.

And that's where we are now, two months later I've watched a full playthrough of the game including all sidequests. It's been a wild ride to say the least.

2. The battle system

Let's get this out of the way before we finally get to the really meaty part: As mentioned earlier my primary concern before release was the combat system since it's so far removed from the older entries of the series. Ironically, of all things, this is probably the smallest issue I have with the game now.

I still don't think the combat is good, mind you - this is mostly a matter of personal taste but I'll never see how button mashing and a series of QTEs overlayed over 20 minutes of cinematic cutscene is supposed to be more impactful or fun than the oh-so-outdated turn based menu inputs. Then again, I didn't play the game myself and can therefore obviously not judge how good or bad it feels in the heat of battle. I say "button mashing", by the way, as what I've gathered from other people's reviews - who genuinely enjoyed the game - the combat is really watered down and repetitive in comparison to games with similar systems like the DMC series. While you do pick up new abilities over the course of the game it seems like once you've found one combination that works you can solve every single battle following those exact inputs. This is one of the two really big complaints about this game I've seen consistently in almost every review.

Speaking of combat, the game has the weirdest way to pull you out of the action and emotional moments by freezing mid cutscene, showing a "you won the battle - here's your loot" screen while blasting an epic choir rendition of the classic FF fanfare, before picking that same cutscene right back up. I don't know who thought this was a good idea, but it's honestly jarring. For an extremely cinematic game that supposedly wants to break with "outdated" traditions, implementing that very video game-y results screen is a strange choice.

You could say this last point is nitpicking, and if this game had no other issues I would probably not mention it at all, but as it is this little detail is indicative of a much, much larger issue.

3. The narrative

[The sound of cracking knuckles can be heard in the distance.] Let the slaughter begin.

Prior to release the game was marketed as a departure from the rest of the series - the setting was advertised as a darker, more mature, political intrigue for an adult audience. ('But the masses of kids that like action com-' Who? What are you talking about?) Because as we all know, no other FF game has ever been dark before (/sarcasm).

What we got was storytelling and character writing with about the maturity level of a twelve year old teenage boy in his edgelord phase making his first Game of Thrones fanfiction drafts. This game oozes of sexism, really stupid slavery allegories, the most dumbed down black and white morality with a matching set of one-dimensional black and white characters, godawful pacing and some of the worst NPC dialogues I've ever had to witness.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

3.1 Storytelling and morality

So this dark and mature political story... I'm still searching for it. I know GoT started this trend where writers will use "politics" as a buzz word to make their games look complex (FFXVI hasn't been the sole offender in the past years). Then they expose you to a few kingdom names, show you a map with territories, drop a few year dates with barely any significant relevance to anything over the course of the game, and pretend that's a deep political intrigue. I have news for you: It's not.

Alright, then... this dark and mature... oh. Oh you mean that's because there's a plethora of blood splatters and people say "fuck" and "cock" and "whore" and there's goofily censored sex on screen? Ah... oh. Alright, I see. If that's what you'd call that... sure.

But surely the people who are tattooed like cattle and used as slaves due to being born as magic users will have an interesting role in the story dealing with the very delicate topic of slaver- ...oh, uh... what do you mean the perfect king beloved by everyone is the good guy because unlike all the other people who held slaves, he treated his slaves nicely? And, before you ask.... No, this isn't some sort of commentary the game wants you to question. This guy is unironically, unambiguously portrayed as the perfect good guy. Brought up many, many times for how flawless he is.

And that... is where we're diving into one of this game's biggest and most glaring issues. The writing is so mindnumbingly black and white with not the slightest room for ambiguous or grey morality it's painful. Everything and everyone in this game is always either good with no failings - or so stupidly evil they may as well be a bad saturday morning cartoon villain.

Good characters are always good, and always act out of the pure kindness of their heart. When you think a good character fucked up and actually did something bad, it will later be revealed that either it wasn't them at all and it was all a scheme, or they were possessed by the big baddie and therefore not actually responsible for their actions. Can't possibly risk anyone appearing like a realistic person with character depth now, can we?

And don't worry, just in case you have an extremely bad case of media illiteracy with the slightest hint of doubt of anyone's alignment on the binary moral chart, the game will make sure to overexplain literally every tiny detail to you in the worst way possible. You see, the evil woman right at the start? The one who looks really evil and moves really evil and the first thing she does is being mean to the slaves and being dismissive of her own son? In case you didn't get yet that she's evil, there will be guards whispering about how evil she is when she leaves the scene. Also a scene later the good perfect king will point out how evil she is. And worry not, in case you forget in the few hours she's not on screen, characters will make sure to remind you how she has not a single redeeming quality and every breath she has ever taken has been filled with evil.

And this might sound like I'm exaggerating. But the game is like this with Every. Single. Thing. Sometimes I found myself genuinely wondering if the writers were actively trying to insult the player's intelligence with this condescending amount of overexplanation. Characters constantly comment on everything that is visibly happening on screen - for God's sake if you want to make a modern game that moves away from "outdated" mechanics then write it this way. If you show what is going on with detailed realistic graphics, you do not need characters monologuing a description of what they're seeing. You do not need to voice a character saying "I'm sad" when you can clearly see their facial expression. You do not need to make a character loudly ask himself with noone else present by his side "Is he hallucinating?" when showing another character's hallucinations. Old games did that because they had limited visual capabilities. If you sit on your high horse talking about moving the series forward while spitting into your old playerbase's faces, then do it right at the very least.

Once in a while you'll be exposed to some textbook philosophy theories, which in essence wouldn't be a bad idea at all if those philosophies were somehow smartly woven into the game's narrative… but instead you get characters quoting essentially the wikipedia summary of what that philosophy is about and call it a day.

I wish this was the only issue with the game's writing.

3.2 Pacing

This game's pacing is atrocious. Genuinely, utterly awful. And there`s mostly one thing to blame: Sidequests. If you've heard a single criticism for this game even from people who highly praise it, it's this.

The sidequests are absolutely horrendous filler content on so many levels. Gameplay wise they're usually "follow 10 meters of a linear corridor to defeat an enemy and then grab a carrot at the end" fetch quests. Visually they are not just a nose dive but an entire plane crash compared to the well animated main quests, consisting mostly of the same three reused conversation animations from FFXIV (I'm all for reusing assets if it helps developers save time, work smarter not harder, but this one is blatantly obvious in all the worst ways). And the writing.... oh boy.

NPCs go on and on and on and on having the most blandly written expository dialogue. I get that the writer's intention was to give the world a bit of context and make it feel more alive with random people telling you about their life stories and everyday hurdles, but they failed miserably at making this remotely engaging. They may as well have had people read the dictionary. And maybe this would have worked better as purely written textbox dialogue (if about half of the dialogue was cut, which would still leave more than enough padding around the actually relevant information) - but in a game with voice acting, making people audibly speak in ways noone would ever speak to another person, just doesn't work. It's stilted and unnatural, and really awkward to listen to.

Delivery aside, the stories told in these sidequests vary from "farmer's everyday life issues about growing their crops" to "random child ends oppression by convincing an angry mob of adults they shouldn't be stoning someone because that someone has been a valuable asset to their society (by reminding them they need to keep the streets clean) and suddenly every adult in range is free of bigoted feelings". And then everyone in the bus clapped, I guess. And again, I get the intention behind these stories but they're so clumsily written.

And yes, these are sidequests - you are free to ignore them. But they do make up a considerable chunk of the game. And, unfortuantely, a fair handful of the main quests follow this same fetch quest formula.

This game goes long, very long stretches without anything substential happening. And it's good to have downtime to breathe - the game's big main story moments pack a punch in terms of epic adrenaline filled battles. But this game honestly feels like 60 hours of filler fetch quests with the occasional relevant story sequence sprinkled in between.

3.3 Visuals

I'm not a film student so maybe it's not my place to comment on cinematography, but I felt like visually many of the cutscenes were also really... bland. Not necessarily bad looking (if you can see anything behind the millions of particle effects) but it definitely felt like less care was put into choosing narratively interesting image composition compared to a game like FFXII.

And then it also does this really annoying thing where it will constantly fade to black for absolutely no reason.

Character A: Oh that seems like an exciting story! Tell me all about it. Character B: Okay, so this is a long story... [screen fades to black] [screen fades from black to the exact same shot we had before the fade] Character B: So the story goes like this... (starts telling the story you thought was told off screen indicated by the black sreen)

This and similar instances happen fairly often and I just don't get why. It's nothing to hate the game for but it's just... really strange. Just like those really silly "In the meantime..." text overlays for scenes that are very clearly happening in the meantime. Seriously, we get it. You don't have to spell it out. But whatever, this is one of those things I'd look past if it weren't for the whole rest of this trainwreck.

3.4 Characters

Speaking of trainwrecks. [Takes a deep breath] I've avoided this topic for long enough now. This is where the last seams that hold the game together break and make it fall apart entirely. This is where the pile of shit that's been tossed across the room finally hits the fan.

If you're remotely familiar with any Final Fantasy title you know how important a solid cast is to those games. Your allies and party members you meet over the course of the game, their stories and views on the world's happenings... a charismatic villain. Well, how about we just simply didn't have any of that.

3.4.1 The game's biggest mistake

FFXVI's writers made the decision to focus the game's narrative around a single character, our playable protagonist. There is a small supporting cast of characters that you meet, and occasionally travels alongside you temporarily, but most of them have... not much to them. The game makes it clear: This story is about Clive, and him alone.

And... I don't think having a story focused on a single character is necessarily a bad decision per se, even if highly unusual for a series that was driven by party systems for decades, but... If you decide to do that, then your protagonist needs to have more personality than a soggy wet sponge. It's bad enough that pretty much noone in this game has any sort of depth to them, but if you sideline literally every character in favour of your protagonist's narrative then... at least give that protagonist a character?

This man's personality is nothing beyond helping people because it's the right thing to do. The attempted "he feels guilty for killing his brother" (which naturally he didn't actually do, because that would be too complex of a story) subplot gets dropped a few hours in and he's just... that guy who runs everyone's errands with no input of his own. And it doesn't make him unlikeable necessarily, it just makes him terribly boring.

What is really, really grating however is how every other character portrays him. Named characters and unnamed NPCs alike will throw pity parties for him over and over, going on about how he's so self-sacrificial, always doing everything for others while never expecting anything in return and never taking enough care of himself. It's exhausting. We get it. He's the perfect heroic nice guy, just like his (slave having) dad, the unfailable king. And unlike his evil witch of a mother. Who is so evil, by the way. At times I felt like Clive was some sort of dream fantasy guy self insert of the writers.

I'll say it plainly now: the lack of a well developped playable party is, in my opinion, the game's downfall. Clive alone can't carry the narrative because there isn't nearly enough depth to him, and everyone else has deliberately been stripped of any sort of meaningful screentime. Narrative aside I also feel like multiple playable characters would have done a lot for more variety in terms of gameplay. And before you raise your pitchforks - yes, there are few, very few characters that have their own little story moment. But boy... at what cost.

3.4.2 The state of women

! Rape & suicide mention trigger warning for this section !

So you know, Clive's sidekick? No, not the dog, the girl. Jill. The one who spends most of the game sick in bed, kidnapped, or otherwise missing, and whose single personality trait is being Clive's pure and innocent love interest. Surprisingly, she has her own 30 minutes of side story! A side story that essentially boils down to finding out she was held captive by a weird cult that had no relevance prior to this point and will have no relevance at all after this point. You get to beat up the cult's leader who is revealed to sexually assault underage girls.

Is that ever addressed again at any point? No.

But worry not. We still have a few more women in the bigger roles of the game. One of them, Benedikta, is an early game antagonist whose entire thing is seducing men, and most of the screentime she has is sex scenes. Once you defeat her in battle she flees, and a randomly passing by group of bandits is implied to attempt to rape her. This triggers a flashback of a past assault she was rescued from, and she goes mad. You fight her again, now in her powered up form, and kill her. Then she gets decapitated and her head is sent in a box to her lover to fuel his man rage. Don't worry, you'll get more sex scene flashbacks with her after her death.

But hey. We have another woman in a leading role. The supposedly main antagonist before the real big baddie (who is so boring of a villain i can't even get myself to say anything more about him) is revealed to have business with her. Clive's evil slave-mistreating mum. Her purpose in the story is breeding a flawless heir. What fuels this dignified ambition? Hell if I know. She's written in a hateable way for the sake of it. Likely to contrast Clive and his flawless dad. Absolutely zero depth to anything.

Guess her age here.

If you guessed "at least in her 50s" you are correct! Do I even have to say anything more about this.

The moment her perfect heir is killed, she loses it and slits her own throat. A very anticlimatic conclusion to her non-existent character arc.

Yes, there are a couple more secondary female characters who aren't necessarily walking misogyny targets, but they're pretty much irrelevant to the plot.

Here's a quote from my girlfriend, who is a woman, about the state of women in this game: "I have scarcely felt this alienated by the depiction of women in a video game."

! Trigger warning ends here !

So, uh... how do we move on from here... Let's head somewhere less offensive.

3.5 Music

Usually I'd give the soundtrack a lot more attention since I'm of the opinion that music is one of the most vital parts in a game and can absolutely make or break it - but quite frankly I don't have much to say about this one in detail. It's largely generic epic orchestra music with nothing much unique going for it. The regular battle theme is fairly memorable; and then there's that really aggravatingly annoying acoustic guitar ambient song that seems to play for about half of the game's time. Seriously I hate that one. It drove me nuts. In general I don't know if there's more than 10 songs in the OST because I don't think I heard more than that. Either that, or they all sounded the same.

What stuck out negatively to me especially (apart from that godsdamned acoustic guitar) was the overusage of over the top orchestral arrangements for the tiniest occasions, which was unfitting at best and really tiring at worst. I got used to it with time, but still a good soundtrack isn't just making every moment sound like it's as epic as the final boss, it's making varied music that fits the moment and sets the ambience.

Also not to ruin the OST for anyone who actually enjoys it, but the game's leitmotif sounds like Army of Lovers' Crucified. Noticed it during the demo and couldn't unhear it for the entirety of the game. You're welcome.

4. Credit where credit is due

As should be evident by now, I'm not finding much redeemable in this game. And yet - I would be lying if I said I didn't find myself liking some aspects of it.

Some of the armour designs are pretty neat. In general the character design as a whole feels coherent and mostly fits the setting, some questionable haircut choices aside.

There are chocobos. In different colours. They look nice. Not a big surprise, I suppose.

The voice acting is really good. I can't comment much on the English dub since I only watched the demo in English and then watched the full game with a streamer who played in German; but the German voice actors did an amazing job, and I've heard only good things about the English cast as well. Listening to a few comparisons I was surprised how deep English Joshua's voice is. He sounds like a teenage boy even after the last timeskip in German. That took me out a bit. I also realized I'm very partial to Dion's German voice acting. His final scene was extremely strong in that regard.

Speaking of Dion....

4.1 It's personal again

Alright. Listen. I hate this. I fucking hate this. For weeks I suffered through this game, nothing but this burning passionate hatred within me, ready to shred and tear every single aspect of it apart.

And then. So close to the end. In the final stretch. When I've almost made it through with nothing but rage and hatred by my side. This fucking stupid garbage game attacks my one goddamn weak point: The gay prince and his lover share a small "it isn't meant to be" moment. And I genuinely enjoyed the little gestures in that cutscene. It was a good cutscene.

And at this point I was unfortunately confronted with a hard to swallow pill: I had been kinda looking forward to every time Dion showed up on screen. I'll be honest I'm not sure I would have made it through the game without the driving force of "hey maybe he'll show up again". Over time he turned into my single point of fixation, and it's sad because ultimately he too is pretty much a wet sponge of a character, though maybe the least wet and spongy one. I think he does have some of the stronger scenes in the game (as well as the most visually appealing boss battle - whatever was going on with that bullet hell laser fight in space). He's also unfortunately a sad blond Final Fantasy prince and. Uh. Yeah. Ahem. Alas, he's kinda ugly. Subjectively. But he has an absolutely mighty hip swing when he walks. And a pretty cool spear. Good weapon choice.

In general, props to SE for including an unambiguously gay character in a decently written way. We all know this company is pretty behind in terms of diversity and representation, so seeing that was a pleasant surprise.

Anyway I really REALLY hate to admit it but I've been kinda held hostage by the game over this stupid prince. I'm hoping this is a temporary side effect (derogatory) from being exposed to the game for a prolonged amount of time and in a few weeks I won't care anymore. I hate it here.

5. Conclusion

When I finally finished watching the game after having spent 2 entire months with it I was mostly asking myself one question... What is worse in regards to an art medium? To hate it so intensely that you're willing to dive into every little aspect of it; or to feel complete indifference?

I can't tell you if I think FFXVI is the worst game in the series. It's the one I feel the most passionate hate for, that's for sure. But a game like FFXV seems so inherently unappealing I don't even care to look at it. Not because I think I'll dislike it any more, I just think it will bore me. (Irrelevant side note - I do plan to finally watch a playthrough of that one too in the future. Might as well commit now.)

There are aspects of FFXVI I do think are inexcusable in an objective way; delicate topics handled badly, developers that need an attitude check, and also... by god go meet a woman in real life, please.

For a game that was said to modernize and move the series forward, it makes terribly outdated choices in many regards. It somehow tries so hard to be a departure from the other games in the series, losing a lot of what makes a good Final Fantasy game, and simultaneously clings so hard to references that feel so empty when the core of these games has been trampled on. No amount of preludes and FF1 overworld theme rearrangements and corny "this will be your final fantasy" puns can bring the series' essence back that this game failed to capture. A sense of adventure, a compelling story with a meaningful cast of companions, a world to explore beyond grey corridors.

It should have been a spin-off, not a main title game. Obviously a different name wouldn't have changed the quality of the game, but I can't shake off the feeling that had it been called FFXIV: The Offline Singleplayer Experience (which quite frankly it feels like in many regards), I might have been a bit more lenient with my judgement.

Still...public reception of the game seems, surprisingly, fairly mixed. My fears of the game being hailed as the second coming of Christ didn't actually become true. At the very least the gameplay is oftentimes heavily criticized. And while I really have to wonder if all the people who praise the story and character writing have watched the same thing as I have, seeing the game actually receive some nuanced opinions from both people who like and dislike it alike is a refreshing twist I didn't expect. (Just in case this comes across wrong: I don't consider my opinions to be nuanced. I'm just a hater. But I'm right. Ha.)

Well... uh... After all this I don't quite know how to end this. I feel like I've said more than anyone should say about this game and somehow nothing of substance at all. Topical, I suppose. Oh well. Congrats (I guess) to this game for sparking something in me (negative) no other game has ever done before. For all it's worth, it strengthened my bond to some of the older entries I used to judge more harshly. I know better now.

-----

If you're the single person who made it this far, I think you deserve to have some pictures. Here's my favourite battle phase: (Something about those symmetrical orb patterns was very aesthetically pleasing. Better in motion though.)

And here's an exclusive look at parts of my initial draft and some discord liveblogging:

anyway peace out ✌️ go watch dions death scene in german

[zuzsenpai]

I'm honestly so furious right now. I work in a video and photography department for a large healthcare organization. We're a department of 9, plus an intern. We're under the "marketing" umbrella, though we do a lot more than marketing for the network (for example we also make patient and employee education videos/photos/animations).

Yesterday the social media department (also part of marketing. We supply photos and videos for them to post) posted an AI generated image on our company's instagram page. It was a photorealistic AI image of a baby, used to promote our pediatric cardiology service line. The image is so ridiculously obviously AI, it makes me want to puke. It's uncanny, too smooth with zero skin texture, the eyes are messed up, and the "baby" literally has full eyelashes on one eye and none on the other.

I'm livid because it's like... what the fuck do they need OUR department for if they're going to be using AI now?

To our knowledge, this is the first time they've done this. I get that there's an "argument" to be made that it's incredibly difficult and time consuming to set up a photoshoot with a real baby, and they wanted something fast and easy because the marketing service line directors are constantly on social media's ass to push out abhorrent amounts of marketing content on social media. This culture will never change. We've tried to explain that people don't like seeing constant mediocre ads for healthcare service lines when they are on social media. But the higher ups won't listen to that AT ALL. So... AI generated gross ass baby it is (I cannot stress enough how creepy this "baby" looks).

But it's a slippery slope. Because first it's a baby. Next it'll be a fake orthopedic surgery patient because who has time to find a real patient for our photographers to shoot? Never mind that people on social media actually DO like seeing real patient stories. Next it'll be a billboard on the highway with AI generated doctors because who cares to know what their real doctor looks like, right? This is making me so mad for the photographers in my department who work so fucking hard to shoot and edit stunning, quality images. Their jobs will be relegated to event photography until someday an unmanned robot can set up their own camera and do that too (they probably already can?).

Recently one of the service line directors in marketing asked me to use an AI voice for an animation I'm making. I had to put my foot down and say that we have three fantastic local voiceover artists who we use for these kinds of projects. One of them is a retired gentleman who went to school with my dad and is always extremely happy to get work from us. Sometimes I think these marketing people just want to use AI because it's trendy.

I understand that there are other industries and individuals who are already being massively affected by AI to a much larger and much more detrimental degree. And that my problems are largely me spinning out of control. I figured AI would hit us eventually, and there's really nothing I can do except continue to put my foot down about the voiceover thing. I can't do much for the photographers, sadly. I'm too nervous to get mad at social media, though I really wish I could at least point out how disgusting that baby looks. But I'm worried that I'm going to be some sort of pariah if I voice my opinion on it. I already get paid peanuts and there's really no way for me to advance my career here. So being the "person who shits on social media for using AI" might be detrimental to me in the long run. I really DO want to advocate for our photographers, but is it my place? Idk, it's complicated.

[annoyingblondebracket]

Round 1 | Poll 6

~ Note: This poll is being done out of a genuine love and affection for these types of characters! Please keep that in mind when adding commentary.

Propaganda (very long on both ends 😭) under the cut!

Madeleine Cookie:

~ everyone he has any kind of relationship with thinks he's insufferable (espresso cookie, financier) except for his family and he is so full of himself and always makes a show out of being a noble divine hero or something like that. His in-game story description says " On the day of his Commander's Oath-taking, Madeleine Cookie dedicated himself to the Divine and was granted the Sword and Shield of Radiant Light, which he prizes the most among his numerous possessions. The glorious Knight Commander's usual duties included trotting around the city on his snow-white sugar horse or letting his heavy cape flutter dramatically on the wind during his sparring sessions." (this is not all of it btw just the part abt him being annoying) and just fuckin look at him that's the face of a man who is never going to shut up about himself ever some trivia from his wiki page: - According to his unique loading screen's flavor text, "Madeleine Cookie excels at swinging his sword to heroic music with his cape fluttering in the wind." - According to his aunts, Madeleine Cookie has a sweet tooth and wouldn't eat anything if it wasn't sugary as a child. They also mention that he used to kick the blanket away when napping as a baby. -In the Halloween Commotion Costume Set Story, Strawberry Crepe Cookie analyzed Madeleine Cookie's dough and found "the most ridiculous amount of narcissism", alongside a considerable amount of light energy. also an interaction between madeleine and espresso M: Another magnificent day of my cloak waving in the wind! Wouldn't you agree? E: Of course. Yes. How marvelous. Please excuse me, I have rather urgent business to attend to. M: Too busy to even marvel at moi? What's the point of living then? also has a bond story with him and espresso called "we've never met" and it's about espresso avoiding him like the plague after seeing each other for the first time in a long while (if i remember correctly) another thing: just compare him to Financier Cookie, who is essentially madeleine 2 except she's not annoying and actually has respect for people and tries to protect people without looking for the satisfaction of being given praise or adoration. madeleine and financier are both paladins, they both are sworn to the divine, they're both from the same place, and YET financier turned out SO much better than he did. in one of financier's quotes, she says "Ser Madeleine Cookie could be so much more than... that." and in the kingdom overworld quotes, she also says "Light, guide my blade! ...What?! Madeleine Cookie says that?!" GIRL DOES NOT WANT TO BE COMPARED TO OR ON THE SAME LEVEL AS HIM JUST. WHAT IS HIS FUCKING PROBLEM

~ Theseus was an auto-admission and thus has no proganda! However as a Theseus yumejoshi it would be remiss of me to add nothing here, so here's some of my favourite lines of his <3

[tom-bones]

hiya. sorry to bring this to you, but apparently that's where the discourse is happening.

i'm M, i hate social media and i've known Nosferatu for roughly 15 years now. IRL. and i made a blog/profile/account/whatever it's called because the amount of dumbass propaganda being spread about them is fucking ridiculous.

they are severely traumatized, suicidal, have a terrible view of themself because of mental and emotional abuse they've endured for years. and they have multiple fucking personality disorders without a way to get to a professional because their mom can't afford it and their dad is a neglectful asshole who couldn't keep it in his pants and decided to abandon them at age 4, doing only the bare fucking minimum since. and trying to get out of even that however he can. their parents flicker between loving and self-centered to the point where they can't fucking talk to them without their anxiety spiking up.

we've grown up together. i know and trust them with my life. they were the one fighting my homophobic grandmother when i came out. they've been my anchor for years before my family had to move abroad for unrelated reasons, which only let us get on calls and text. i've seen them at some really serious fucking lows. and they are hitting one of those right now because some assholes never bothered to communicate with them and blamed them for everything wrong that happened to them on this fucking website. and because you idiots never bothered to actually ask or talk to them, choosing to believe said assholes.

calling them manipulative is absolutely ridiculous. i've been on call with them multiple times, trying to talk them out of hurting themself while they were screaming and crying. i've got a text from their mom, in a rare "loving mommy" moment at 2 AM last night about how they tried to fucking skin their forearm to get rid of their ghost tattoo. a tattoo that they were so excited about, it was like seeing them healed for the first few days after they got it. but you claim it's "suicide baiting" because they didn't fucking succeed? because they were fucking stopped?

there was one person Nosferatu ever manipulated. a teacher in their high school, who mentally abused his students. despite being one of the favorite students, they put themself against him and then managed to make it look like he was being overly dramatic, making him leave the students alone until they finished school. they only time they ever manipulated anyone, all to defend their classmates. but you idiots would rather believe jackasses who never bothered to try and reach out? seriously?

they're autistic and poorly socialized. they're social awareness sucks, especially with strangers. what they saw as "bullying" was just friendly banter to Nosferatu. and none of them ever bothered to message them and fucking say they feel off. they need to be called out, yes, but not like this. simply informing them that they sound mean to them would solve the fucking situation. but no, it's easier to make a big exit post and claim they abused them and manipulated the rest of the group (who can think for themselves, btw) because it fits your narrative, doesn't it? you people will jump at any opportunity to bully someone, and then when they manage to get pulled back from almost ending it all, you claim they're baiting. and when they try to explain themself, not fucking knowing what exactly they're accused of, you call them a fucking narcissist? for a completely reasonable reaction?

and you know what they did after they found out why you all suddenly started spamming them death threats? reached out to the other group in an attempt to explain the situation. and they did so via discord group chat that i watched through a shared screen, trying to calm them down. and guess what, assholes. they apologized, owned up to everything and explained themself to them. and in return, they got acknowledgement, but nothing else. no apologies for painting them to be this evil mastermind, no clarification, nothing. so i'll throw an accusation of my own and say that they actually wanted Nosferatu to suffer. all because they were too bitchy to communicate, and Nosferatu wasn't. they reached out to them, because suddenly after months of not interacting, suddenly people were accusing them of being abusive and making people quit.

i'll throw in another accusation, actually. in the group chat, they claimed they're not quitting because of Nosferatu, but rather the backlash they were getting from anons. but they failed to mention that in the post, just to make sure Nosferatu ended up looking like a monster who ruined everything for them. they wanted you to hate Nosferatu, all because they got the wrong impression and never bothered with talking to them.

Nosferatu is absolutely fucking harmless unless they have an actual reason to be an asshole. they act terrible to people who hurt their friends, such as when you idiot anons starting shit with the Sister Rose person. they do so because it's the only defense mechanism that works with their family and their own abusers. they do it whenever they break down mentally. they push people away. they act terrible to make sure nobody can hurt them at their moment of weakness.

they had to turn off the ask function completely. they had to back out of roleplay. they're scared of talking to anyone because there's a risk you fucking idiots will go out of your way to abuse the person they spoke to or you'll start spreading more lies like you did here. i'm not going to tolerate shit like this about the person who already struggles with their mental state and emotions and who is only finally getting the help they need because they earn their own money through a summer job. that they have to work for 12 hours a day.

go fuck yourselves, all of you. you lead to Nosferatu almost ruining all their relationships out of fear. you made them want to skin themself, and if it wasn't for their mother, they'd be in the hospital because of all of you now. if not dead. you've ruined a hobby, a passion and a fandom they loved so dearly. you made them despise their special interest, because you've made them feel unwelcome. and why? because the people you've been fighting for decided to manipulate you and make Nosferatu look fucking evil.

funny how you all defend actually manipulative people by calling someone who barely interacted with them a manipulative narcissist. if you ever actually spoke to them, you'd know they're not a monster you all seem to want them to be. they're scared. defensive. because they're getting a bunch of fucking accusations out of nowhere, with everyone expecting them to know what happened when they have no fucking clue.

fortunately, i'm gonna be able to come to visit them relatively soon and you bet your sorry asses i will get them to roleplay again. because it made them happy. they would go on about new storylines and how excited they were. i'm not gonna let you take my friend's happiness away like this again, all because you clearly don't have functioning brains and can't think for yourselves.

you're all abusers. you're all bullies. and the fact that you just believed those people without using your abilities of critical thinking is fucking unbelievable. people like you are why i avoid social media. a bunch of brainless assholes, jumping at an opportunity to be pieces of shit to people just because.

PS: learn how to tell apart a fucking character from a real person. they literally stopped using a name and assigned it to their roleplay character just to avoid confusion, and yet you morons still can't tell it apart.

// please read with caution. i won’t add much commentary, but i feel this post is very important to share so people, especially the anon haters, can get a clearer picture of what’s been happening in both nosferatu’s life and the rp community in the ghost fandom. tobias would be appalled by all this. the people who sent nosferatu death threats should be ashamed. you guys claim she’s evil when in reality you guys are acting like fucking jerks toward them. anyways, this post explains itself pretty well. the anon haters need to get a fucking life.