#and trauma from her mortal family

[annamaryllis]

I would like to know exactly how luke asking annabeth to run away with him went down.

[baphometsss]

if i see one more post about how solas/mythal/elgar'nan had a weird love triangle thing going on i'm gonna scream

[yusufstits]

thinking about nile having nightmares and not being able to sleep post london and then being very tired during the day and taking naps on whoever's around

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part three

summary: as feelings progress and truths unfold, you're left with a decision that could end your entire existence as you know it. the mother has a path for every soul, perhaps this was where yours was supposed to end.

warnings: swearing, mentions and brief descriptions of sexual abuse, consensual sexual themes, mentions of death and suicide.

word count: 5.8k

series masterlist

Feyre Archeron could never begin to imagine the pain and horror her older cousin had faced in the mortal lands. Rhysand hadn’t shared that image, hadn’t shared the memories he’d witnessed when he took some of that pain away from you. 

She didn’t need her mate to share those visuals. Not when she felt every ounce of anguish through their bond. And every day since then, she had not been able to forget it. 

Another two weeks had passed since your arrival, three in total of your being in the Night Court, and you were finally beginning to work through your trauma. 

The offer had been there to find your own place of residence, to have that independence if you so wished. But after speaking with Feyre and Rhysand, after learning it was in fact Nesta who had imposed the leave Y/N be rule… you realised just how much you loved living in the House with your family. 

Your friends. 

So when you’d finally accepted Mor’s desperate pleas to take you shopping and fill your empty wardrobe…

“You’re going to need another dresser.” 

You blinked, taking in the mess around you. Your entire closet was stuffed to the brim with dresses, blouses, sweaters, coats…

And the pile on your bed…there was no chance of those articles of clothing fitting in the closet too. Nesta was right, you definitely needed another dresser. 

“Rhys is going to lose his shit when he finds out how much we spent.” 

Your eyes widened at Nesta’s words, not quite picking up the teasing tone she spoke in. Mor shot her a look and threw a sweater at her face. 

“She’s kidding,” Mor reassured. “My dear cousin has more money than sense. This won’t have even made a dent in his wealth.” 

A relief, but that guilt began to creep its way into the pit of your stomach nonetheless. You were ashamed to admit that while you had fun shopping with Mor and your cousin, you hadn’t even taken a moment to realise how much everything had cost. 

Nesta threw herself onto your bed, right on top of the throng of clothes you needed to find a place for. “I’m thinking we raid Rhys’ wine cellar tonight…”

A gleaming smile radiated off Mor’s face in agreeance and they both turned to you with upraised brows, expectant. 

You pursed your lips, an apologetic smile on your face. “I told Rhys and Feyre that I’d babysit Nyx tonight.” 

Nesta huffed and threw herself back on the mattress again, clothes bouncing and crinkling as she did so. Mor raised another brow, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse. 

“So? I’ve gotten drunk while watching Nyx loads of times.” 

Nesta seethed at her. “One, that’s my nephew and I never want to hear you doing that again. And two, Y/N’s tolerance to alcohol won’t be as strong as ours. Two glasses and she’d be borderline incapacitated.”

Despite the slight insult, a laugh bubbled up your throat at just how right she was. Because you’d never even drank a sip of wine in your life, and Nesta knew that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have plans with Azriel…” 

Mor was prying, you knew that. But you had no control over the heat that made its way across your neck and face. 

“We’re just friends.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of weeks, and he was one of the only people you felt truly comfortable around. 

Mor gave you a knowing look. “Mhm, tell that to his shadows.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nesta scoffed, sitting up again. “Az’s shadows are basically an extension of himself.”

Mor hummed. “They don’t do anything unless Azriel commands it. Or sometimes, they’ll do something based on his emotions or thoughts. They’re so friendly with you because Azriel likes you.” 

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t realised his shadows touching you was a product of Azriel’s emotions. And the more you thought about it, there hadn’t been a time since you met him that they hadn’t touched you in some way. 

You didn’t say that, though. No. Azriel clearly had no qualms about other people noticing, but that did not mean you were willing to gossip about it. 

You did not need to allow silly fantasies to root their way in your mind. Azriel was your friend. And you were okay with him only wanting you as such. 

Within an hour, Mor had disappeared to tend to her own duties and just as Nesta was about to leave for hers, she grabbed your wrist and motioned for you to look at her. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Those words were enough—more than enough. She saw you, she recognised everything you had been through and everything you did every day to overcome it. 

I’m proud of you. 

The last and only person to have ever told you that was your mother. 

And because you saw her too, because you remembered fhe young mortal woman she was before her own struggles of turning Fae and adjusting to her new lifestyle, you found yourself saying, “I’m proud of you, too, Ness.”

Nyx had been wonderful to look after that night. 

You’d gotten all the cuddles and boyish giggles, the beautiful little smiles and a few stinky diapers to go with it. You loved every moment with the little babe, and when Rhys and Feyre returned from their night off early in the morning, you offered to sit with him again whenever they needed it. 

But despite how fulfilling and wonderful it had been, it had also hurt. You wondered if you’d ever be blessed with the opportunity to carry and birth your own child. Wondered if you’d ever even find someone to want you in that way. 

Especially within Prythian. 

It was another late night for you, though your reading sessions had taken you from the lounge to the library. And you no longer spent them alone. 

Azriel sat on the couch opposite you, his nose deep in a book as you watched him. In the past week, you’d spent a lot of time together. It ranged from walks into the city to sitting and reading in the library until early hours of the morning. 

You’d grown accustomed to his presence, his scent often able to calm any anxiety or qualms you felt. He had noticed, of course, he wasn’t a Spymaster for nothing. But Azriel did not mention the change in you whenever he was around. 

He basked in it, in the way you appeared so much more comfortable with him. You weren’t afraid to speak up, to ask questions or acknowledge whatever was on your mind. 

You were coming out of your shell and it warmed Azriel’s heart to know that he was somewhat of the cause for it. 

“What does salacious mean?”

Azriel blinked repeatedly as your voice broke him from his thoughts. Salacious? His throat tightened. You’d often ask for definitions of things you were unsure on, sometimes even asking how to pronounce words you had never come across. 

But salacious? 

“Are you reading Nesta’s romance novels?” He quirked a brow. 

Your lips involuntarily pouted at him, your own brows furrowing just slightly as you rested the open book back into your blanket-covered lap. “Yes. Why?”

Anxiety creeped its way into your stomach, rooting deep into your flesh from the inside out. Reminders of how this used to go flashed through your mind and suddenly, it felt like you were back in the village, back in the mortal lands and living with Rafe. 

A tendril of darkness peaked at the corner of your vision and you focussed on it, watching it slowly dance across your knuckles and weave between your fingers in a calming manner. 

Shadows. Azriel. Library. Velaris. Safe. 

And just like that, the anxiety un-clawed its roots and crept away. 

Azriel nodded ever so slightly to the book, knowing exactly what had just happened with you but acting as if he didn’t. “Salacious means…having inappropriate interest in sexual matters.”

There was no hiding the heat on your cheeks—the way it burned your soft skin. You tore your gaze from his as quickly as you could, unable to contain your slight shame and embarrassment. 

But Azriel did not mind one bit. 

Azriel had secrets. He supposed that being the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was to be expected. But these secrets were different from the others, something he kept locked tight in his mind for the past month. 

And it wasn’t the secrets that had him moving closer and spending all of his time in the lower level of the House. No. That was very much you and your presence and whatever it was in your soul that called out to his. 

He couldn’t stay away—though, it wasn’t like he even tried—for that pull was far too strong for even his willpower. 

He had suspicions. Suspicions of a golden thread that started in his chest and ended in yours. He knew it was far fetched, knew he was only hurting himself by entertaining the complete insanity of the idea. 

You were human. Mortal. And mortals didn’t have mates. He told himself so every day, and right after, like clockwork, he countered his own sound advice with the one thing that had been troubling him the most.

Because what mortal could plant and bloom a patch of tulips with nothing more than a thought and a touch. What mortal could speak so clearly to the earth and create life right before another’s eyes. 

Despite the possible threat that could pose for his court and his family, Azriel had kept that tidbit of information to himself. Just for now. Just until he could make sense of it. Then, and only then, would he bring that information to light. 

Because Azriel did not feel any ounce of danger or ill intent from you. He did not feel anything but warmth and intrigue and that godforsaken sensation when you grew excitable over something. 

He couldn’t take that from you. Not when you were finally coming out of your shell, finally talking and laughing and going as far as joining him and Cassian for training twice a week. 

“If sex makes you uncomfortable, there are other romance novels without that.”

Heat warmed your skin again. Shadows dared to intertwine with your fingers. 

“No, it’s not that.” You played with his shadows, allowing them to caress your skin. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve just never had a good enough experience to understand much.”

He didn’t push, didn’t ask further questions. You wouldn’t be embarrassed for this, for something that was not your fault. You wouldn’t cower anymore, hide what you felt or thought. No longer would there be repercussions for speaking your mind. 

So you spoke again. 

“Rafe was the only person I’d ever…it’s just different to read it, to have it described as something enjoyable.”

Azriel’s knuckles turned white. Something enjoyable. He’d never experienced it to be anything but. His soul almost cleaved in two at the thought of what you’d endured. 

Azriel dared to glance at you again. “Sex with the right person can be very enjoyable. It should be nothing but beautiful.”

He stiffened then, blood thumping in his ears. His shadows stilled, noticing the shift in your scent just as their master had. Sweet, all consuming arousal, and Azriel did not miss the way your thighs pressed together in impulse. 

He swallowed thickly. 

You broke his gaze, your own heart thumping sporadically as you stared at the pages on your lap. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to thoughts of him, of experiencing that with him. You knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“The thought of being intimate like that with someone new…” You couldn’t find the words to express the fear and anxiety that came with that thought.

Azriel listened intently, breathing deeply. 

“I want to experience life the way it should be experienced. Not the way others have pushed it upon me.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his book on his knee. “You control your life now, nobody else. If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.”

You wondered then if he could see into your mind as Rhysand could. If he could feel that shift in the air. If he could smell it on you. That want and desire. You would not apologise for it. Not anymore. 

“But if it feels wrong, is that not my guts way of warning me?” You countered. 

Azriel smiled, just barely. His knuckles still white. “It’s your guts way of protecting you. Because you’ve never experienced anything beyond what others bestowed upon you.”

Gods above. 

An ache fluttered in your chest, just above your breast and you absentmindedly rubbed at it, disrupting the neckline of your shirt. Azriel’s eyes squinted at the exposed skin, at the mark that adored your flesh. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone was primal, protective. 

You paused your movements, following his gaze. “Oh, no.” You pulled your shirt a little lower. “Just a birthmark.”

He needed to compose himself, needed to stop allowing his mind to wander about other areas of your concealed skin. He felt like nothing more than a big brute. 

Your soft, airy giggle woke him from his daze and he looked over to find tendrils of darkness caressing any inch of your skin that they could. Gods, if he didn’t have a leash on his emotions around you, how could he control his damned shadows. 

“It’s like they have a mind of their own.”

They didn’t. But he couldn’t correct you. Not without exposing the fact that they only fed off their masters emotions and desires. Not without exposing the fact that Azriel wished he was the one touching your skin and not his shadows. 

He swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Nesta told me that they’re an extension of yourself. That they only act if you will it.” You didn’t know why you said it, why you thought you had the right to speak that truth. 

But you would not apologise, even as Azriel remained silent for a few moments. Partly out of shock, partly in awe. But that was another thing he would not speak aloud. 

“Sometimes they can act on behalf of my emotions. My desires and wants.”

You dared to meet his honey eyes. “And that’s what you want?” You were breathless, a feeling in your stomach that you’d never once experienced before. “You want to touch me?” 

Neither of you knew where this confidence had come from, but Azriel did not question it and you did not apologise. 

He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t repeat the words that echoed in his mind and soul and body. But, Gods…he could not seem to regain any semblance of control when he stared into your eyes. He could not lie to you, could not hide what he felt. 

“I want to do a lot of things.” The admittance was barely audible, nothing more than a breath he’d been holding but you heard it all the same. As though you’d demanded the words out of him. 

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried. Your entire being was encapsulated by him. Your chest heaved, legs ached. The shadows slowly left your shoulders and neck, returning to their previous position at your fingers. 

“But above all, I want you to be comfortable. Happy.” 

Something compelled you to stand, the shadows seemingly guiding you to their master as your book toppled to the couch. He watched with a hungry gaze, one full of faltering self-control. 

If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

The shadows moved like a breeze between you both, tugging you closer and closer. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. Not when your soul felt like it was singing, like it was exactly where it longed to be. 

Azriel stood slowly, towering above you once at his full height. You strained your neck to meet his gaze and he bent his to come closer. You could feel his breath dance with yours, could feel his hard chest press upon your soft one. 

No part of you felt nervous, no part of you felt unworthy. 

But Azriel…he didn’t know what to do. For weeks he’d been dreaming of this moment, dreaming of the taste of your lips, the touch of your skin. He slowly raised a scarred hand to caress your warm cheek, and you didn’t cower or shy away from his touch. 

A test, perhaps. To see if you really could handle the intimacy of another male so soon after what you’d endured. You didn’t falter, didn’t break his gaze. He wanted you, more than he ever wanted anything else before. 

“What you went through…”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you cut him off. “That was then, this is now. I don’t want to live in the past.”

Take it.

Take it. 

Your lips…so close to touching his. 

The shadows swirled in delight, excitement.

Azriel knew this wouldn’t be just a kiss. This wouldn’t be meaningless. He felt it, in every part of him, he felt the way your entire being sang to his. He wanted to lay his soul bare before you. 

He itched to brush your hair behind your ear, to hold you and taste you. But Rhysand’s voice echoed through his mind, beckoning him for his assistance. He closed his eyes, huffed out a breath.

“Rhys is calling for me.” 

Azriel stepped away, removed his palm from your skin. You swallowed, stepping back and letting your eyes fixate on the rug beneath your feet. He cleared his throat, struggling to reign in those shadows of his. 

“I’ll come to you tonight…we can talk then.”

But had Azriel waited just a few moments longer, had he given into the urge to brush your hair from your face, he would’ve noticed the slight point that had formed at the top of your ears. 

Azriel didn’t meet you in your chambers that night. And you didn’t see him the next morning. Or the day after that. 

Cassian had mentioned that Rhys sent him on a mission. That he would be back in a few days. 

But something was wrong, you could feel it in every inch of your body. An ache that only got worse with every passing moment. You tried to ignore it, tried to relax in a hot bath with soothing lavender oils. Nothing relieved the pain. Nothing soothed the ache.

And when you left your bathroom and found your once round ears now pointed, and a trail of tulips following in your wake, your legs carried you toward the kitchen before you had a moment to consider it. Cassian and Nesta sat at the table, giggling over their breakfast when you stumbled toward them. 

“What’s happening?” Your panicked tone caught their attention, eyes wide as they stood and took in what lay before them. 

From the stone ground, moss and grass and flowers bloomed as though you stood in the middle of a field. Daisies and buttercups sprouted in your hair, roots of trees tangling around your limbs. 

Everything was so loud yet muffled. Like every word was screamed in your ear but somehow underwater as Cassian called out frantically to Rhysand. Neither of them went near you, even when Rhys flew through the open balcony doors, Feyre in tow. 

They looked at you with nothing less than concern and fear. 

“What in the Gods is happening to me?!” You demanded. 

Rhysand held Feyre back as she attempted to near you, his gaze locked on you as he assessed the situation. But it wasn’t the flowers or grass or roots that he watched. It was you, and the way your crescent-moon birthmark glowed something violet. 

Rhys had known, had suspected something lay dormant within you. From that moment he entered your mind, when he gazed upon that luscious field that seemed to call to you with promises of something new. 

He’d never witnessed such before. Not in the most powerful of Fae had he ever stumbled across that. 

With a very careful step forward, his gaze demanded yours. Feyre had told him of your mother, of her death and your marriage to Rafe. And his voice was soft when he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since. 

“What happened the night your mother died?” 

The world went still, cold. Feyre whirled to him in protest. 

“Rhys—“

“—it was a house fire.” 

All eyes turned to you, to the patches of bloom that haltered their growth. 

Rhysand took another step closer. “Where were you?” 

“I—“

A heat unlike any other licked at your skin, waking you from your peaceful slumber. A heat so unwelcomed that you bolted upright in a sheen of your own sweat. 

You could hear the wood of your cottage crackling under a burning flame, and smoke quickly infiltrated your room. You coughed, attempting to swat it away as you squinted in the darkness. 

“Mama!?” You called out, panic stricken in your voice and body. 

Fear began to cripple you, began to take away any sense of self preservation. You couldn’t leave your bed. Your door now engulfed in flames, you screamed. 

“Help! Someone, please help!”

No one was coming. This was the end. You couldn’t move, couldn’t get to your beloved mother. A shrill cry, unlike anything you’d ever heard before, split your heart in two. 

A scream of pure agony and fear tore through your throat, your eyes clenched shut as you gave your body over to the fire. 

Only the next breath you breathed was clean and cold. And your sheets were no longer beneath you, no. Now you laid on the rich soil outside of your home, your fingers rooting themselves into the dirt. 

You screamed and sobbed, unable to do anything but watch as the fire claimed your home and your mother. 

You were sobbing, collapsed to the ground as you struggled to breathe at the memory. 

Rhysand dared another step closer, kneeling before you now and his eyes held such sorrow, such remorse. 

“Y/N…” he spoke softly. “Was your mother ever accused of being a witch?” 

Nesta seethed, threatening. “Rhysand, that’s—“

“How do you know that?” Everything felt very, very still. No one should have known that. No one of these lands should have known that. 

Rhys didn’t answer your question. And despite the sound of large wings breezing through the sky, you did not look away from the High Lord. Not even as Azriel rushed into the House and his heart sunk at what he bore. 

“The day I entered your mind and took some of your pain away, I felt something. Something within you that I have never, in my 500 years of life, felt before.”

Azriel took a step closer. He should have said something when he first noticed the flowers. Because now, whatever power you had…it was consuming you. 

“I’d like to try something,” Rhysand proposed. 

You struggled to keep your breathing even. “What is it?” 

Another step closer, a warm hand on yours. 

“I’d like to enter your mind as far back as it will allow me. Just to see if I can find something.”

Violet eyes watched yours. “Find what?”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance. “Something to make sense of this.”

A moment of pause, to take in your surroundings. The flowers and soil had sprouted to cover the entire expanse of the lounge floor, your friends and cousins standing just beyond the brush of it. 

Eyes flickered to something hazel. Azriel. He stood in the soil, flora coating his ankles and he struggled to keep a tight leash on the shadows that fought to reach you. 

You looked back at Rhysand. 

“Will it hurt?” 

He shook his head. “No, not if you don’t resist.” 

That suddenly sounded an awful lot like your past. Memories of Rafe pinning you to the bed—scolding, reprimanding, promising no pain if you didn’t resist. 

This wasn’t like that, you had to remind yourself. You were safe. They only wanted to help. To understand. 

Azriel stepped closer, ignoring the silent warning that Rhysand whispered into his mind. A scarred hand out held, you took it. And Rhysand took that moment of distraction to enter your mind. 

The first memory he saw was one from just days before. You and Azriel reading in the library, the shadows that swirled your fingers and arms, the near-kiss that escalated into nothing. 

He dug deeper. The next, of you and Azriel again, exploring the city where you left a trail of green and brown tulips in your wake on the embankment of the river. 

Deeper and deeper, until the memories showed you living in the mortal lands. A blow to the face, to your stomach and your head. Rafe seething above you as he shouted and belittled you. 

Deeper, to a memory of your husband pinning you to the mattress, of his body crushing yours as he stole everything you never offered. 

Every memory Rhysand met, you re-lived them. 

A little deeper and he was watching you at the Archeron household, helping Elain plant seeds, watching Feyre paint, reading with Nesta. 

Deeper and deeper he went, passing the memories of the fire, of your mother, until he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“She is my child too, Selenthia. You cannot keep her from me.” A voice you did not recognise. A memory you did not recall. 

“For her protection, I will do what I must.” Selenthia seethed, coddling you closer to her chest. “No one can know what she is, or she’ll be hunted for the rest of her life.”

The unknown male huffed. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, strong and commanding. But there was something about him. Something not quite right. 

“So you plan to lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Selenthia bared her teeth. “I would never lock my child away. She will live her life as a mortal. I won’t subject her to a life like mine or yours.”

A moment of silence. “You cannot hide her from what she is.” He spoke softer now, edging close to peer at you, his daughter. 

“What do you plan to do when she first bleeds? When her ears point and her power grows—“

“That won’t happen.” There was no room for discussion in Selenthia’s voice. She placed a finger over your heart, a familiar violet glow permitting from her skin to yours. 

“What are you doing?” That male’s voice, cold once more. 

“I’m burying her power. So long as this wyrd remains on her skin, she’ll be safe.”

Selenthia pulled away, just enough to take a look at the mark that marred your skin. A mark two shades darker than the rest of your flesh, the shape of a crescent moon and no larger than a fingernail. 

“There. Nothing more than a birthmark.”

Rhysand retreaded from your mind, panting and shaking. Tears streamed down his flushed face, your own skin staining with silver, too. 

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, daring a step closer. 

But those tulips and daisies and buttercups…the soil and grass and roots, they all began to sink into the ground until nothing but the florals in your hair remained. 

“My mother…she…she was a witch. A healing earth witch. And my father—he…”

“Your father was Fae.” Azriel breathed, his eyes focused on the point of your ears that peeked through your hair and flowers.

“He was of the Night Court. A High Fae male.” Rhysand added gravely. 

Azriel’s hold on the shadows loosened and he allowed them to caress you, comfort you. Your hand never left his. 

You pulled away from Rhysand, clutching at your chest—at that crescent moon you always thought was a birthmark. Your mothers protection all along. 

“When you crossed the wall into the Fae lands, your power tried to break through. It was your mothers mark that had been keeping it buried with you all these years.” 

You dared a look at your cousins. But they looked at you with nothing but sorrow and anguish. No fear. They did not fear you, they did not pity you. In their eyes all you could see was longing. A longing for you to no longer live in such agony and hardships. 

“Our mothers were sisters. Does that mean—“

“I don’t think so,” Rhysand cut you off. “If they held the magic you do, I believe their power would have shown by now. They were Made. So it’s possible the Cauldron could’ve interfered with it if that were the case.” 

It was too much. All of it. Reliving those memories again, seeing your father… You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have magic and powers. You could not be half Fae, half witch. 

It would be easy to give up. It would be so easy to ignore it until it killed you. So easy to just let go of everything. But a pounding in your soul begged you not to. Begged you to fight with everything you had. Begged you to live. 

“Burn the mark.” 

All attention snapped to you, flickering from your face to the mark on your chest that finally stopped glowing. 

“Are you insane?” Nesta seethed. 

You looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be far off to guess that if I don’t burn this mark, this…power will consume me entirely. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be so lost because I have no idea who I am. This is who I am, whether I like it or not. I won’t run anymore.”

Feyre stepped closer, crouching to your level and taking your spare hand in hers. Azriel still held tight to the other. “If you wish to burn it, it will unleash whatever power you have at full force. You don’t have any training, any control over it.” 

You felt sick to your stomach. “I don’t want to die, Fey.” 

And that was enough to enrage Feyre in a way she’d never once felt before. “You are not going to die. Do you understand me?”

Azriel squeezed your hand, begging for you to look at him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him looking at you any different than he had three days ago. 

“Rhys, fetch Madja. We will burn the mark in a controlled environment. Where any fallout can be contained.”

You shook your head, not willing to risk a single soul because of your selfish decision to live. 

“No,” you said. “Drop me to the mountains and I’ll burn it myself.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, you are insane.”

You seethed at her. The first ounce of anger you’d truly shown. The first time you’d ever directed it at anyone but yourself. 

“This isn’t your decision. I will not risk anyone. Azriel can take me to the mountains and you can all keep your distance. At least until it’s safe.”

Until it’s safe. As if you knew for certain you’d survive it. You truly weren’t sure you would. There was nothing more to discuss, your tone made that clear enough. 

“Fly me, winnow me…whatever. Just do it now before I change my mind.”

Within a blink, your body was shivering and you were no longer in the House of Wind. Shadows encased your entire body, darkness swarming every inch of you. You said nothing as Azriel held you, nothing at all as he flew you across Velaris and toward the highest mountain just outside of the city. 

Only when he landed, when he refused to remove his hold from you, did the darkness dissipate and hazel eyes gazed into yours. 

“I’m staying with you.” 

“No, you’re not. I won’t risk your life, Azriel.” 

He set you to your feet, holding your hands now to keep you close. A plea of desperation swam in his eyes, his entire body yearning to take you and find another way to fix this. 

“There is no other option. If I don’t burn this mark, I don’t know what my power might do. It might kill me, it might destroy this city. I cannot risk anyone’s life for mine.”

Azriel parted his lips to speak but you shook your head, squeezing his hands. 

“If I don’t survive this—“

“Don’t.”

“Please, listen to me.” Silver lined your eyes, blurring your vision. “If I don’t survive this, I want you to know how special your friendship has been to me. How much I care for you, for your family.” A sob tore through your throat. “And I am so incredibly sorry for burdening you all in this way.” 

You reached on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. Warmth and love and the most raw emotion could be felt between you both. An apology for not having longer, a prayer that there would still be time. 

A fuse lit within the pit of your stomach, in the pit of Azriel’s. Tears stained your lips, stained his. In that moment, you were one. Whole, as though you always should have been. 

You pulled away first, forcing your hands from his hold. You took several steps back, blinking through the distorted vision and swiping away and evidence of the fear that crippled you. 

A puff of violet darkness misted beside Azriel as Rhysand winnowed to the mountains. Pain flicked through his eyes, regret and the same sorrow you saw in your cousins. 

You did not meet his gaze. 

“Summon a fire.”

He did as you asked. And handed you a blade. 

You did not grant them another look, did not give into the pleading in your mind to watch them leave. Or else you would’ve seen Rhysand drag Azriel off that mountain. You would’ve seen the anguish on the Shadowsingers face. 

Alone. As you had been your whole life. Though the weeks spent in Velaris had given you a taste of what could’ve been. You’d treasure those memories in the Hereafter. Those and the precious ones of your late mother. 

For they were all you had left. 

You did not allow another tear to fall. Not as you hovered the blade over the flame, not as you tugged your shirt down and took a deep breath. 

For if all you were ever meant to be was a ghost in the wind, you were content to know you’d reunite with your mother soon. Where you would no longer feel such pain. 

You didn’t want to die. But if this was all the time you were fated to have, then so be it. Better you than someone else. 

“Keep them safe.” A whisper to the winds, if they deigned to listen. 

With a final breath, you pressed the scorching blade against the mark on your skin and the entirety of your captive power unleashed upon the mountain as your body allowed it to consume you. Until you saw and heard and felt nothing at all. 

From below, the city shook, a thundering boom and a gust of aftershock and pelting mountain debris that blew the Inner Circle back. 

Then there was silence. 

And Azriel’s soul bellowed. 

a/n: so a LOT happened in this chapter and there is still a lot more to happen, i'm hoping i can fit it into two parts but it may be stretched into three, we'll have to see!! i'm so grateful for all the love you guys have been giving this series and i am so excited for you to find out how it all ends!!

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

tag list: @anna-reader-blog @bubybubsters @honethatty12 @angiieguevara @honk4emoboyz @e1jeyy @celestialgilb @rcarbo1 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @judig92 @moonfawnx @historygeekqueen @idkitsem @horneybeach1 @apenasandorinha @thaynarajejheje @popcornlauncher @mrsjna @fuckingsimp4azriel @kk191327 @babypeapoddd @bluebries81 @secretlyhers @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mixheleee @be-your-coffee-pot @ly–canthrope @acoazlove @camilasstories @yesiamthatwierd @scoliobean @marigold-morelli @mellowmusings @dreaming-lis @prettylittlewrites @optimisticbabydreamer @halo-mystic @curtaincaramba @donnadiddadog @nocasdatsgay @hisonlykiwi @bookishbroadwaybish @peachyxlynch @hungryforbatboys @call-me-evangeline @stqrgirlies-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @pinksmellslikelove @demon-master-zero @more-a-then-i @svearehnn

[cassiebones]

nobody can convince me that agatha and rio wouldn't have had more children had nicky not died, had Death been allowed to have living, semi-mortal children. They only lasted like 50 years before their eldest was born. They would have continued to make more babies for the next three hundred and beyond. Every time one of their children is old enough to basically fend for theirself, Agatha feels that longing for a baby and Rio can't deny her.

It takes three or four kids before Agatha has a kid that looks as much like her as Nicky looks like Rio. When this child, Mari (short for Mariposa), reaches adulthood, she develops that same little gap between her teeth (in modern times, she would have gotten braces, but she was born in the late 1700's okay, give her a break) so she does look somewhat like Rio, but she has bright blue eyes and her hair curls like Agatha's. She also has a similar power set to Agatha, which Agatha fosters as much as she could because nobody ever did that for her.

By modern day, they probably have about twenty kids, the youngest of which is still small enough to carry as they move into Westview, acting like a modern lesbian couple. They are single-handedly repopulating the witch community that Agatha killed off.

But they're happy and in love. All their children are pretty well-adjusted. Nicky still has a big heart. He's probably a doctor somewhere, moving around when people start to question why he doesn't age - at least until Eternals are accepted and superheroes just become more commonplace. Nobody questions why he looks like he's thirty-five when he should be closer to his seventies (nobody knows what his true age is) and he still visits his mothers. Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't always appreciate when Rio visits him at work.

Three of their children train as Reapers with Rio. The rest are scattered around the world, living their lives, but they always call their mothers, or they visit with their own partners and children.

The youngest three are juveniles, so they live with their mothers in the suburbs. They're as mischievous as Rio, causing havoc wherever they go, but they're studious, too, like Agatha, so they get good grades and do well in their magic studies.

When Wanda tries to start her bullshit, Agatha stops her, putting a pin in her grief. Instead of draining her power, she becomes a kind of mentor to Wanda. This Agatha never lost her son, but she does have a shit ton of trauma from her youth resulting from her own coven just refusing to teach her, and she recognizes Wanda as another untrained witch. So she trains her. She teaches her how to use the powers that she's familiar with. She gathers other witches (Lilia, Alice, Jen) to help her where they can. They converse with Stephen Strange on how to best help Wanda in her grief and magic.

I really wish Agatha's What If...? episode had been "What if Agatha had never lost her son?" rather than the Hollywood episode. Don't get me wrong: it was a fun fucking episode. But I just wish we'd seen more of Agatha being happy with her family.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART FIVE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Depression and mentions of self h*rm.

Notes: Heads-up, this chapter is filled with the Caeles Family trauma/lore lmao.

PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX | NAVIGATION

Two angelic beings—currently in their human forms, sat across each other outside their garden, early morning sunlight streaming past the leaves of the large wisteria, they sat underneath the tree, a tea table in the middle with of course, a steaming and freshly brewed lavender tea and a platter of tea sandwiches to go with. The smell of roses and lavender is present around the garden as the sun rises through the horizon, calm and gentle cool breeze caressing their skins as they enjoy this peace and quiet. They are in the mortal realm at the moment, they didn't want heaven's ears to listen.

Xavier can be seen talking animatedly to his mother, his eyebrows furrowed as he did so, his hands moving around comically as he explained something to the older woman. [Y/n] sighs and nodded, bringing back the teacup into the table.

“So you're saying that Sera approved of this cleansing without the other's knowledge?” [y/n] asked with a small hum, bringing the teacup to her lips once more, pinky extended, she sipped her tea slowly before bringing the teacup back down to the table, making sure to use her pinky as a cushion to avoid making unnecessary noise.

She was awestruck, in disbelief by the information Xavier told her. Unacceptable. Sera's decision mocks the heavenly hierarchy, who is she to play God? Sure, God left her in charge as the higher being is off to who knows where but the reason God chose Sera is because the Seven Virtues were busy with work in the mortal realm. To think she made a major decision such as this without consulting the Seven virtues is unacceptable.

[Y/n] was bubbling in fury inside, as the angel of kindness, she can't imagine what the sinners are going through with the cleansing. Sera's decision is truly unacceptable. It felt like Sera didn't respect the status of the seven virtues and that is something she cannot allow. She worked so hard to be here, to where she is now. After Lucifer messed up and left an empty spot with the seven, she worked herself to the bone to fill that spot and is now one of the strongest and Sera couldn't even consult one single virtue to this decision. Blasphemy.

Xavier looked worried as he could tell that his mother is beyond pissed despite the gentle and calm look on her face, but he knows her. He could tell just by how tense her shoulders are, how deep the exhale she let out or the way her left eye twitched.

“I am glad you told me, I'll request a meeting with the others soon but I doubt it'll happen immediately as everyone is busy here on earth.” [y/n] sighs, picking up a small tuna sandwich and taking a bite of it. Xavier nodded as he took a sip of his own tea, nodding at her.

“I couldn't let Sera get away with this, after all.” He answered, looking away from his mother and to gaze at the garden. [Y/n] chuckles, her eyes darkened a bit as she follows where Xavier is looking—at the mini pond of the garden, two ducks and two swans swimming around. Surprisingly, a duck and swan were playing with each other. It brought a smile to [y/n]'s face, remembering the times she and Lucifer would play together in the skies, laughing and giggling. Times were easy and peaceful before. Oh how she wished she could turn back time.

Xavier's eyes narrowed slightly as he watches the two birds swimming around. A sigh escaping his lips before turning back to look at his mother once more.

“What do you want me to do for the time being?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, [y/n] smiled as she looked at her son, he grew up so fast. Proud of how far he came in life, though, she still felt a little guilt and sadness within her as she remembers how she neglected him during his toddler years, she was far too depressed that just one look at her son she would spiral into depression as Xavier bears so much resemblance to Lucifer. Her negligence to Xavier caused the boy to hate his looks so much to the point he tried to carve out his face with his weapon, thankfully Azrael was there to stop him and it served as a wake up call to her and realized how her actions affected Xavier so much. It took awhile and lots of therapy for her to finally face her son without having a mental breakdown and she apologized to the boy over and over again for the horrible things she had done and it took some serious therapy for Xavier too to accept his face—though, he hasn't fully accepted it but it isn't as worse as before.

[Y/n] sighs softly, shaking away the depressing memories. She's healing now and finally getting better, she doesn't need to look back at the negative memories. She smiled at Xavier, a look of adoration in her eyes, proud of her son for all the things he did for her. Her pride and joy.

Placing her hands on her lap, she gave him a small nod, “Just continue doing your duties, I'll take care of the rest, hmm?” she suggested with a smile and Xavier nodded, “Alright, I'll leave you to deal with it mother.” he says and [y/n] hummed in agreement.

[Y/n] took out her phone, typing something. Her fingers danced across the screen as she pressed the letters.

You: @everyone, when will you guys be available for a meeting? Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Uriel

Michael: I won't be available for a couple days, I am unsure about the others. Why? Did something happen? Seen by [Y/n], Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel

Azrael: Did someone mess up? lmao Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Camuel: It's rare for you to actually summon us for once @Y/n Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel, Jophiel, [Y/n]

You: I am requesting for a meeting as a certain Seraphim left in charge is currently playing God. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Gabriel: What the fuck? Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Azrael: Hey, watch your fucking language ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Uriel: Well... That is certainly news.. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: Indeed. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Uriel, Azrael

Michael: We'll have a meeting in a week, all of us are far too busy at the moment. Thank you for telling us, [n/n]. Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Michael: Is the schedule fine with you guys? @everyone Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: The schedule is fine, I guess I'll meet you guys soon. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Azrael and everyone heart reacted to his message

[Y/n] turns off her phone and slips it back to her pocket, Xavier looks at her with a raised eyebrow, “So...?”

[Y/n] chuckles a bit, “I already told them and we'll have a meeting in a week or so. We'll handle it, don't worry.” she says, sipping her tea. “I am sure Michael will do something about it.”

“That meeting certainly didn't go well for me.” [y/n] muttered in annoyance as she left the office of the Seven. They just finished holding the meeting and Michael thought it was a good idea to make her take care of it, Azrael offered to help her but he has his own plate of responsibilities to finish, he is the angel of death after all. “Why did I have to lose the rock-paper-scissors?!” she whined to herself, pouting slightly.

She looked down upon her hands to see it shaking and pale, she's scared of going down there, she's afraid of what'll happen to her if she ever sees Lucifer again.

Contrary to popular beliefs, [y/n] doesn't consider Lucifer her ex-husband, no divorce ever happened and even after all the pain she went through, she remained loyal and always acted upon her vows to him even if he wasn't here in heaven with her.

Her eyes landed on the gold metal band around her ring finger, the very ring that Lucifer slipped into her hand when they got married. She didn't have the power or the courage to remove it.

She won't remove it unless Lucifer actually tells her to, unless Lucifer says it to her face that he no longer loves her or needs her.

She'll let him go willingly once he tells her all those things. But for now, she'll hold on. No matter how bruised and wounded her hands are, she'll hold on. She hopes that they will be a complete family one day, heck, even Charlotte can join. She'll treat the girl like her own daughter. She just wants her family complete, is that too much to ask for?

She dreams to give her son the father he deserves, Xavier didn't say it but as his mother she can tell how envious the boy is when he looks at other families. The longing look in his eyes, he's jealous that Charlie had the father—the very same father that left him for another family.

Her steps faltered as she finally arrived at her own office, opening the door and quickly got inside and locking it. Her back pressed against the door, her body getting heavier as she slid down to the floor.

Looking up at the ceiling, the ceiling of her office, the chandelier with apple and duck crystals hanging from it—she commissioned it in memory of Lucifer.

“Some people long for a life that is simple and planned”

She softly sang, standing up from the floor, her eyes softening as she gazed outside the window of her office.

“Tied with a ribbon

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land

To follow what's written”

She sang softly, her feet gracefully bringing her across the room, reaching to her desk. Her hand opened the cabinet of her desk, grabbing a small black box. Opening it to see a gold necklace with a pink crystal heart pendant. Sighing before closing the box once more and returning it back to the drawer.

“But I'd follow you to the great unknown

Off to a world we call our own”

She says softly, her eyes downcast as her voice became significantly lower. [Y/n] remembers Lucifer giving her the necklace for their first anniversary.

“Hand in my hand

And we promised to never let go”

A tear streamed down her cheek, remembering the promises they've made for each other. The room was tinted pink from the rays of the setting sun, shadows casting into her dull office.

“We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

The memories of them flying together in the skies, laughing and joking with each other.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, never know how far we could fall”

Lucifer catching her when her wings gave out.

“But it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you”

Despite fearing for her life, she trusted him to catch her always when she falls.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her steps light as a feather, graceful as she dances as if Lucifer is there with her. Slow dancing in her office like he's with her.

“Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between

Desert and ocean”

They promised to never let go of each other regardless of what comes in-between them.

“You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream

Always in motion”

She listened to all of his hopes and dreams of the future, future of the world and his future with her.

“So I risk it all just to be with you

And I risk it all for this life we choose”

She knew what she was getting into when she dated him, he was the most beautiful angel of all of creation. Many wanted him but she trusted him to only want her.

“Hand in my hand

And you promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

With a flex of her wrists, golden dusts of her power came of her hands, forming a faux Lucifer. She still remembers what he looked like. The Lucifer made of golden dust smiled at her, holding her body close as they waltzed across the room.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”

[Y/n] was crying softly, Lucifer wipes away her tears with his thumb, leaving specks of golden dust in her cheeks. Lucifer twirls her and dips her, effortlessly catching her. He pulls her up to allow her to stand.

With a sad smile, [y/n] waves her hand and the Lucifer made of golden dust gently disappears like a dust in the wind. [Y/n] extending her hand, as if to stop the love of her life from disappearing once more. Even if it was just something she conjured up with her powers.

“Well, it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you.”

[Y/n] grabbed her handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing the fabric onto her eyes. No matter how much she tries to dry her eyes, tears never seem to stop falling.

“After all these years, I am still a mess without you.” she whispers, eyes gazing outside the window of her office, the sunlight shining down on her like the universe is listening to her anguish. She grips the fabric of her dress, on where her heart is beating and aching.

“What happened to death do us apart? Why did you leave me Lucifer? WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!” She asked, screaming in anguish and as always, no answer to her questions.

“I need you, Lucifer... I still do...” she whispers, defeated as she dragged her emotionally heavy body to her office chair, slumping down with a loud and choked out sob.

With shaky breaths and trembling hands. She calms herself down, calming herself down. She still has work to do.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

[northopalshore]

🌬️⚔️Chiron and your traumas

ೀ⋆｡˚. ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡

warning! mentions s*x, ab*se , trauma& violence

ೀ⋆｡˚. ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡

Chiron in the houses

🌬️Chiron in the 1st house

You might have grown up very insecure about how you look and how you put yourself out there. People could be very judgemental of your looks. There is this constant need to feel prettier. This could lead to an unhealthy obsession with fitting into certain beauty standards. If uranus is also in the 1st house, or in hard aspects with chiron then you could have been born in a place where the beauty standard is opposite from you, for example the beauty standard in you country may be pale skin but you were born with tan or darker skin tone. If aspected with Taurus, Venus or Jupiter, might have an eating disorder.

ex: Selena Gomez has this placement. She often expresses her discomfort around how people just love to criticise her for her looks and her weight. If you've been online for the last 10 years, you'll notice how often the media brings attention to her weight gain.

🌬️Chiron in 2nd house

These individuals might have issues surrounding money or possessions. Have a need to be seen with luxurious things. Could live or work with money their whole lives. Money shaped their identity. Grew up in either extreme wealth or poverty. They might be born in a family where debt and corruption is involved. If not, this could mean they themselves may be irresponsible with money or constantly worried about their finances. They might be prone to gambling addictions or the opposite, extremely cautious of spending habits. These individuals are also prone to eating disorders and overconsumption.

ex: Donald Trump, Princess Diana, Robert Pattinson, Dolly Parton, Jeffery Epstein & Audrey Hepburn have this placement.

🌬️Chiron in 3rd house

Might not have had a good relationship with their siblings growing up. They could have been ostracized by their siblings. They could also have grown up without siblings either as an only child or they moved away from them. Could result in feeling lonely in this area of life. They could be hated for things that they say. Hated for singing, talking or writing differently. They could also have trauma surrounding their voice or communication. They might find it very difficult to express themselves verbally or feeling like other people do not listen to them at all. Might inherit a hereditary illness. (However I find that people with these placement tend to have healing voices or writing as well depending on their birth chart)

ex: Björk, Sigmund Freud, Fyodor Dostoevsky George W. bush, Azealia Banks & Morgan Freeman have this placement

🌬️Chiron in the 4th house

These natives may have been born in a broken home. Their parents might have been divorced or they suffer from addiction resulting in a sort of fallout. They may think they are the ones that caused their home life to be so distressed. Could also mean they have certain trauma or fears with people breaking into their homes. Not feeling safe at home. Issues with the mother. Lack of a maternal figure in their lives.

ex: Eminem and Nicki Minaj have this placement. If you are familiar with them you'll know both grew up in abusive households. Rob Kardashian, Miley Cyrus & Winona Ryder also have this placement.

🌬️Chiron in the 5th house

Individuals with this placement most likely have issues surrounding their creativity, love life or children. They might find it difficult to enjoy life like other people around them. Their childhood might have felt bleak. Feeling left out from all the fun the world has to offer. Sexual trauma/abuse. Drugged. Overindulgence in hedonism. Used for entertainment . Prostitution. They might also be the tortured artists archetype in which they express their darkness, mortality or trauma through art. Their love life might also suffer. In a woman's chart, this might mean she has issues with pregnancy or conceiving. Might have gone through many miscarriages in her life.

ex: Anne Hathaway, Megan Thee Stallion, Paris Hilton, John Lennon, Meghan Fox & Kim Kardashian have this placement.

🌬️Chiron in the 6th house

They might have found it different to obtain a stable career or routine for themselves. Might be overworked to the point of exhaustion. These individuals could have had to take on multiple jobs to sustain themselves or for the benefit of other people. They might not have been appreciated for their hard work and expected to keep working. Being enslaved. Forced labour. Working without pay. Other people treating them as a commodity. Might have started working drom an early age. They might get into accidents at work often.

ex: JFK, Elvis Presley, Brigitte Bardot, Vincent Van Gogh, Mila Kunis, Jackie Kennedy, Frida Kahlo & Madonna have this placement

🌬️Chiron in 7th house

Relationships issues, fears surrounding relationships or contracts and commitments. Might have been turned down by multiple companies or partners. Might have been cheated on by a long-term relationship. Contracts being violated. Manipulated through contracts. They might find opening up difficult in romantic relationships. Lovers might have betrayed them at some point of their life. Might get divorced multiple times.

ex: Mia Khalifa has this placement. She's had 2 marriages that both resulted in divorce and one engagement that ended in separation as of August 2023.

🌬️Chiron in 8th house

These people might have been abused at some point. Suffered from sexual trauma/rape , or obsession. Overly sexualised by others. People might been very envious of these natives, to the point that they have received death threats. Other people might not respect their privacy especially in regards to their love/sex life. They could also have been used by romantic relationships to get something they want. Death could have surrounded this individual i.e family members, friends, pets.

ex: Taylor Swift has this placement. She's been slut shamed a lot throughout her career. People are overly obsessed with her love life.

🌬️Chiron 9th house

Natives with this placement could have trouble with long distance travels, studies, religion or beliefs. May be traumatized by certain cultures. Might have grown up with religious parents that forced their beliefs onto their children. Might have been indoctrinated by a cult or was raised in one. They might have been fored to dedicate a large portion of their life learning something they hated or weren't passionate about. Subjected to a lot of racism in their life. Being culturally different from peers. May receive hate from people all over the world/ other cultures.

ex: Marilyn Monroe, Adolf Hitler, Justin Bieber, Elon Musk, Billie Eilish, RuPaul & Joe Jonas have this placement.

🌬️Chiron in 10th house

Probably are not satisfied with their career path. Might have found it very difficult to obtain a steady career. Their career might be hated by other people. People might have used these natives as a means to gain control or power. They might receive a lot of criticism in their career. Strangers feel like they have authority over their lives.

ex: Drake. BBL drizzy, need I say more? Jungkook, Angelina Jolie, Kanye West, Kylie Jenner & Ben Affleck have this placement

🌬️Chiron in 11th house

They might have been ostracized by many friends group or communities. They are usually judged by others in their social circle. The black sheep of the community. If active online, they could suffer from a lot of online bullying or criticism from the public. Online harassment, badmouthed and shamed. Might fall subject to racism as well.

ex: My friend and I both have this placement. Our 4th house is gemini w mercury in the 10th & 9th house respectively. We both moved away from our birth towns in an early age. She had to move because of her father, I moved and travelled a lot due to studies. She was ostracized by her dad's community (family). I was ostracized by teachers, other students and people from the places I travelled to.

🌬️Chiron in 12th house

These natives might have fears surrounding foreign lands. They could suffer from a lot of addictions or are prone to addictions. They also suffer from a lot of psychic attacks and nightmares. Could suffer from rumours being spread about them. They could feel isolated from the rest of the world. They might have been raised in an adoption centre. Orphaned. Could suffer from depression or anxiety. Might have witness many deaths of their loved ones. Could have separation anxiety or abandonment issues. Be careful of alcohol & drugs or any kind.

ex: Michael Jackson had this placement. He was addicted to numerous drugs and allegedly overdosed on propofol. Amy Winehouse, The Weeknd, Demi Lovato & Lindsay Lohan also have this placement.

ೀ⋆｡˚. ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡ ﾟೀ⋆｡˚.  ｡

Thanks for reading!

@northopalshore

***entertainment only, reader discretion is advised ****

[a-d-nox]

astro hypothesis: how to glow up

hi, friends! remember when we had the tick tock goes the clock game? it was all part of my evil plan!! i wanted to know what everyone wants to accomplish in 2025 and a lot of you want to level up - physically, work, school, etc. so let me present a glow up hypothesis series!!! venus persona and venus return charts are where you want to focus!

why venus?

please recall the mythology of venus/aphrodite! in mythology, venus/aphrodite entered the world fully grown and radiant, skipping the awkward transitions most mortals experience. her effortless grace and beauty symbolize the ultimate glow-up. in astrology, venus returns and persona charts reveal the keys to our own seamless transformation - guiding us on how to embrace our venusian energy and manifest our most radiant self.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

1h: physical appearance, identity, and self-confidence.

reinventing your look and attitude. updating your style. focusing on fitness. build self-confidence. embody a strong sense of identity and show up authentically.

explanation post

2h: self-worth, personal values, and material realm.

how to build a strong sense of self-worth. focusing on financial independence. how to improve your finances, refine your values. surrounding yourself with quality (anything from clothes to relationships) that aligns with your newfound sense of worth.

explanation post

3h: communication style, mindset, and social interactions.

transforming how you think and speak. being more articulate and confident in expressing yourself. building meaningful connections with others. learning new skills / enhancing intellectual abilities.

explanation post

4h: inner world, family, and emotional security.

internal; focusing on creating a peaceful, nurturing home environment. strengthening your emotional foundations. healing family relationships, setting boundaries, and/or redecorating your space to reflect your ideal haven.

explanation post

5h: creativity, romance, and pleasure.

embracing joy, fun, and creativity. reconnecting with hobbies. dating more openly or bringing playfulness into your life. the goal is to feel more vibrant, expressive, and magnetic.

explanation post

6h: daily habits, health, and self-discipline.

glow-up centers on creating a healthy, balanced lifestyle. a workout routine, focused on nutrition, or improve productivity habits. creating a solid structure that supports wellness and efficiency in daily life.

explanation post

7h: relationships, self-image in partnerships, and balance.

transforming how you relate to others, often by building healthy boundaries, improving communication, and attracting balanced partnerships. becoming confident in relationships. identifying what you deserve.

explanation post

8h: deep transformation, healing, and shared resources.

facing fears / healing past trauma. stepping into a more empowered/fearless version of yourself. financial management and investments may also be part of this process.

explanation post

9h: personal growth, spirituality, and worldview.

expanding your mind through travel, study, or spiritual practices. exploring different cultures, religions, or philosophies to gain new perspectives. glow-up of your belief system and how you connect with the world on a broader level.

explanation post

10h: career, reputation, and life goals.

centering on your professional life and ambitions. building a strong career, gaining public recognition, or refining your life goals. present yourself with confidence and integrity in your public or professional image.

explanation post

11h: social connections, friendships, and future goals.

aligning with a supportive community and nurturing friendships that inspire you. getting involved in causes you care about. expanding your social network. setting future-oriented goals that align with your dreams.

explanation post

12h: spiritual growth, subconscious mind, and solitude.

introspective and focused on inner peace. healing from past wounds, working on mental health, practicing meditation, and connecting with your spiritual side. letting go of old baggage and finding serenity within yourself.

explanation post

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button! 

return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to nox's hypotheses

© a-d-nox 2025 all rights reserved

[motherrstorm]

something that will always bug me about the acotar fandom is the overall lack of empathy and understanding of nesta and elains experience with the cauldron.

"they are young, beautiful, rich and surrounded by hot men who want them, why are they so upset?" - are y'all being serious?

their bodies were boiled alive, skin literally felt like it was peeled from their bones, the cauldron violated their bodies and sa'd them. sexual assault.

the actual trauma of being violated aside, elain had a whole life in the mortal world. she was engaged and about to start a family. that was taken from her, and the man that she was in love with turned on her. she should just forget all about it because now she's surrounded by rich hot men?

nesta wanted to travel the world. no doubt she had big plans for herself, and that was stolen from her. her humanity, something she cherished, was stripped away from her. she should just not be deeply affected by it, because she's surrounded by rich hot men?

you guys center these men so eminently, to the point where basic empathy and understanding flies out the window for the female characters who don't immediately jump on board with them, and live your desired vicarious lifestyle, it's actually insane. centering fictional men to the point where you become a misogynist is insane. and what's worse is that a good 90% of you all, are women.

no, you would not jump headfirst into the cauldron. you would be deeply traumatised from having your body tortured, changed and assaulted. you would be deeply traumatised, damn near catatonic, for being taken away from your life, family and friends. please be serious.

[litnerdwrites]

How torturous is it to love with everything your heart can give, and then some, only for your acts of love to either be forgotten about or to be treated like the villain for caring? And on top of that, you never once receive even a fraction of the love back.

Nesta loved Feyre enough to go to the wall for her, and she would've gone farther, if she were able, only for Feyre to forget.

Nesta spent her entire childhood taking her mother's abuse so her sister's didn't have to, only for Elain to turn her back on her.

Nesta spent her whole life trying to give Elain the love that she would've given anything to receive from their mother, for Elain to abandon her and condemn her when she needed that love more than ever.

Nesta joined a war for Feyre, only for it all to be forgotten.

She stayed in the mortal lands, despite it being dangerous after the Queens denied the IC's request for the book, clearly ready to sacrifice their people, including Nesta and Elain, all because Elain wanted to be near her betrothed and be comfortable, just for Elain to try and force Nesta out of her safe space, and into uncomfortable situations.

Nesta stayed with Elain, putting aside her own trauma for her sake to look after her, but when she needed the same love and understanding, Elain abandoned her for the comforts Feyre provided.

Nesta put aside her own trauma to help with war efforts, but it's never brought up again.

Nesta is most likely the one who cooked and cleaned and looked after the cabin, and who thanked her?

Nesta is the one who demanded their neglectful father be held accountable for his failures, but, instead, that burden was forced onto her.

Nesta is the one who demanded Rhysand be held accountable for lying to both her and Feyre, only for Feyre to turn around and laugh at the idea of her being punished for something Feyre said herself, that she isn't mad at.

Nesta endured verbal abuse at the hands of Feyre's new family, let them stare at her like a zoo animal, and didn't comment on it.

Nesta would've gone into the blood right after Emerie and Gwyn, laws be damned, to save them. She would've done it for any of them, only for them to decide she's fine and leave her there. Did they worry about her while she was there? Azriel didn't seem worried. Neither did Feyre or Elain.

That's not even the half of it. Nesta loved so much, with her whole heart, and not a single person could give it back to her. Not one. How tiring, and heart breaking must that be for her? The thought alone brings me to tears.

[diejager]

I have a fucking insane idea based on a DnD thing I saw once lmao. So basically, if someone went through an immense amount of trauma, it could sort of manifest into another being used for self defense. This being was literally only limited by their imagination. It could be a damn house cat or a fucking dragon. It was basically an extension of their body that was a result of a dangerous or traumatic situation. It could help with other tasks as well, but its main purpose is defense. I need to see the men react to this, I’m begging

Monster au. Plz

~🧋

Cw: trauma, inaccurate magic, tell me if I missed any.

They were familiar with all kind of magic. Be it Old Magics and Magiks, enchantments, hexes, curses, dark arts, and everything known to the world, yours was…. peculiar. Quite peculiar for a person without any ties to a magical lineage or prior knowledge of powers. You were just a normal human - as normal as you could be with all your fearlessness towards monsters and hybrids alike - with a few unique perks and qualities, but a human no less. You weren’t any different from your parents, your extended family or any friends. A mortal with soft flesh, resilient and persevering, wild imaginations and genial abilities to adapt and conquer, and yet, were so, so fragile. 

They hadn’t expected it, with Farah - the only witch they personally knew - tied to Alex by the hip and always on the move, their repertoire of magical knowledge was lacking. So, there was a mass of confusion between them, one that made understanding your strange ability difficult, but not impossible. They had Laswell’s help to sift through all existing records, some confidential, hidden under red tapes and confidentiality regulations, and others public, open to any curious eyes and prying noses. 

The black Maine Coon that seemed to follow you, her lumbering figure and elegantly, curled fur that stood out among patches of grey and military green and browns of the base brought many questions, but all shrugged away at the mere sight of those piercing green eyes, vibrant lime that seemed to glow in darkness. She could light up the room with a single glance. It was as odd as it was menacing, and she was fiercely protective of you, shadowing your steps, curling her tail around your leg, laying on your lap when you sat and glaring at anyone who tried to approach you. 

A spirit animal someone had commented, a guardian in the shape of a cat another had hushed. She was all speculations and would stay that way until someone found out more about your Maine Coon, or if someone grew a pair and actually asked you rather than treating it like a secret mission conducted behind your back. A mystery to resolve, a like game they thought it be amusing to play until you found them out or someone gave up after grueling weeks of hitting a brocade —a dead end. 

It was fun and all, at least while it lasted. They felt like they were so close to figuring it out by themselves - pride and ego, you’d cackle. You’d have a field day laughing at them for them, then praise them for holding out so long - and Soap went out and begged for an answer. 

“I was wondering when one of you would crack,” you smiled, running your fingers through her fur, brushing away knots and tangles, “Took you longer than I expected.”

You had known of their investigation, but never spoke up. It riled them up, a thrill at finally being given the knowledge they’re hungered for, an adrenaline that pumped from their hearts to know the answer. And you stalled, teasing them with the pretty curl of your lips, taking all the time you needed to have them squirm in their seats and hang at every word that fell from your mouth.

“She’s a… trauma response, of some kind. I don’t really know how or why, but she just appeared one day while I was recovering. I was confused,” you laughed, nuzzling her scruff when she sat up to lick your chin, “Really confused. But I did some tests, experiments out of sheer boredom and discovered she came from my mind- or a product of it.”

“Your mind..?”

“You know humans have vivid imaginations, as physically unfortunate we are, our minds are a… strange thing, and she came right out of it.”

“So she could be… anything?”

You threw your head back, pulling her up in your arms as if she was the lightest kitten ever, your smile so wide it was infectiously making them smile.

“Anything that my mind can conjure up.”

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[extremely-judgemental]

Long Post

Every time I see the ‘let my girl be happy’ tag and the post is about canon Nessian, it infuriates me as much as it breaks my heart. Sometimes I wonder if those who romanticise Cassian’s toxic behaviours are speaking from a place of privilege or ignorance, because admitting that calls for addressing real-life abuse and misogyny they are forced to endure.

I’m an Indian living in a highly patriarchal, misogynistic society where women are still required to marry someone out of convenience for the sake of their families. This is not the cute arranged marriages you read about in books or watch in movies. Most women have to sacrifice everything they stand for to ease their families’ burdens. And let’s not even start with dowry or DV. Sure, our society has progressed in many ways, yet, this is the reality of most women when it comes to marriages. No matter how well-off you are, no matter how successful you are in your career. It’s more nuanced than you imagine; parents meddle with children’s lives at every step, and our lives are more intertwined with our families than in western society. So I simply can’t read Nesta’s story and delude myself into thinking she got a happy ending with Cassian or the Inner Circle. I keep my emotions out of most of the criticisms to help people see the situation objectively. That’s hard to do in this case, but I’ll try.

Nesta is the eldest child who ‘fails’ her sisters, though it is her father’s responsibility to care for three young girls. Having been groomed to be a housewife all her life, she contributes in the only way she knows—by doing the chores and nurturing her family. She seeks help from relatives and friends, while the ones in position to do so ignore her. And when the time comes, she finds a way to be of use to her family by marrying Tomas. Despite all this, Nesta is considered a failure of a sister, simply because Feyre made a choice. Most of these only come to light in Silver Flames, and even the few instances where Feyre realises this, there’s no real appreciation for Nesta’s efforts. Instead, they are dismissed or only mentioned to highlight Feyre’s empathic tendencies and her awareness of her sisters’ plights, rather than uplifting Nesta’s character. None of these are acknowledged as they don’t fit the typical masculine ideals glorified throughout the series.

As Nesta navigates her life as a newly transformed fae, she partakes in a war in which she has no part in. She has no obligation or need to risk her life for the Night Court, or any other court, or even the mortals. These are the same acts that made Feyre a hero in the first book. But when it comes to Nesta, and she rises to the occasion, her actions are downplayed as she grapples with PTSD from her death, the Cauldron, the toll of war, and her father’s death. None of her sacrifices or her attempts to protect her sisters are given an ounce of importance or respect they deserve. Instead, it’s framed as Nesta’s duty as the eldest sister or the sister of the Night Court’s High Lady.

When she deals with her trauma, everyone takes great pleasure in controlling how the situation unfolds. She goes as far as living alone to spare her sisters. Yet Feyre and Elain, who have the choice of when and how to regulate their emotions, fail to grasp the concept of personal space. Her actions are self-sabotaging at best and have no real consequences on any of the other characters. Still, they are amplified to an extent that it’s turned into a court affair. The reason for this is Nesta isn’t coping in the right way. Gambling, drinking and sex—common activities for the Inner Circle—become a question of their reputation the moment she engages in them in her pain, emphasising that these are only acceptable when done with them. Spending Feyre’s money on gambling may seem like a reasonable cause for Rhysand to interfere, but if we factor in how Nesta’s rightful wealth from Tamlin or her father was lost as a direct consequence of Inner Circle’s actions, along with the fact that she is still owed money for her contribution in the war, Nesta is deliberately stripped of any monetary agency to trap her.

If this isn’t punishment enough, she is locked in an inescapable tower with a man she wants no part of. When she objects to this, she is lied to about their laws and threatened being thrown among people who will consider her a threat. She has no interest in training to fight or working for the Night Court, but she’s forced to. She’s not compensated for any of this labour either. Nesta is known to starve herself after the war to the point that she’s nothing but ‘skin and bones’. Cassian, an established gym bro in the series, weaponises food against her when she refuses to eat what is offered or when. The moment she shows any interest in eating, he judges her for being picky and brings up her latent guilt that led her down that path in the first place. Later on, knowing she’s not fit enough, the Inner Circle insists on training her right away, in freezing conditions, without proper clothing. Nesta soon learns that she has no choice but to comply. She goes on to train with Cassian, work in the library, and accept the food the house gives her. This is the first step in breaking her.

Nesta has no one to rely on or talk to in the house except for Cassian. The relationship that develops between them is not circumstantial but a well-orchestrated one. Even for small talk, Cassian is her only choice. After learning Nesta was SA’d by the kelpie and on the verge of death, no one (including her sisters) cares for her as much as they should. The only person who checks on her is Cassian, and even he is so overcome with desire and lust that he has sex with her instead of comforting her. It is common knowledge that sex is a coping mechanism for her and that she has been SA’d twice—something only Cassian knows. This perpetuates the idea that even when a woman is hurting and in pain, she must be appealing, and her trauma should be sexually gratifying and desirable for the man. A woman can walk back from the doors of death, but she must look pretty while doing it. There is nothing empowering about that.

Then, there is Eris’s seduction. Feyre looks down on Nesta for contemplating selling her body to take care of her sisters. But the same is expected of her when she serves the Night Court. It is almost glorified and revered by Cassian himself. During their conversation in River House, he lets her believe that she has to earn both his love and her sisters’. Not once does he contradict any of her fears or insecurities. For the first time, Nesta has sex with him without it being an escape, and the next morning, Cassian abandons her, reinforcing the idea that she indeed earned the sex and love for what she did in Court of Nightmares.

When Nesta reveals the truth about Feyre’s pregnancy, her true feelings are swept under the rug by how she ‘failed’ her sister again. She has the right to expose Rhysand and his plans. Even if the situation isn’t the most ideal, she is locked in a tower and only talks to anyone when the IC choose, which limits her options. Besides, when will the timing ever be perfect for such a conversation? She is again vilified for being the only one honest with her sister. Her intentions are twisted to cover up others’ mistakes. Cassian, once again, is the one who punishes her for it.

At this point, Nesta is suicidal, and Cassian recognises the signs. He still insists on taking the hike, also using the silent treatment to enforce the idea that she is in the wrong. His interactions with Feyre prove none of them dwell on Nesta’s actions as much as she believes. While she is having a guilt trip, edging her closer to suicide, Cassian laughs behind her back with Feyre, almost enjoying her fears. At the end of this trip, Nesta finally opens up about her trauma for the first time, and Cassian swoops in with his own sorrows and how he overcame them. Instead of making her feel seen and heard, she is once again lectured on what she should do and how.

Lastly, Cassian and Morrigan have a mildly, if not completely, inappropriate relationship that Nesta is expected to accept. If she expresses jealousy or anger, it’s not because of the bond or their relationship, but will be seen as her inherent quality. She can’t fight it as everyone else has accepted it as a normal relationship. If she shows any displeasure, her past of sleeping with other men will be brought into the conversation, and she will be scrutinised. This is very similar to the ‘men will be men’ narrative—the man can flirt with whoever he wants, and it’s harmless, but the woman has to behave.

Throughout the series, everyone is against Nesta. Her family is her responsibility. She has a duty to protect and serve them, no matter the circumstances, no matter how much it costs her or how much pain she is in. Her own sisters side with her in-laws, saying it’s how things are and she ‘doesn’t have to be so miserable’. Her life is forever bound to a man she initially wanted nothing to do with and her everyday existence is dependent on him. She is trapped with him until she learns to accept her fate. He doesn’t lay a hand on her, but he psychologically and emotionally abuses her until she complies with his family and behaves to fit their image. He even gives her the silent treatment, withdraws sex/intimacy from her, leaves her alone in the tower, cuts her off from everyone she loves and cares about if she misbehaves. She has no financial independence, leaving her at the mercy of her sister and her family. Even when she’s hurting, she has no choice but to risk her life for them or go to war when they demand. She goes as far as changing her body for her future child. Her life is threatened by her in-laws, but no one bats an eye at that, forever leaving her fearing for her safety.

If you believe it’s just fiction and that all this is exaggeration of something in a fantasy book, you really need to look around you. This is a real nightmare for most women around the world. Your girl, Nesta, isn’t happy. She settled. She has accepted a life in which she is treated less than a dog and used as a weapon. She’s been beaten down until she learnt not to step out of line if she wants to live. She is still with Cassian because she doesn’t see a life other than that as an option and has come to accept whatever scraps her sister and her family have decided to throw her way. And I sincerely hope that if you ever come across a real-life Rhysand or Cassian, you have the wits to protect yourself and run the other way.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

jen just shakes her head, bitter and not in the least surprised at what agatha did

meanwhile agatha is... she's just devastated

billy is the only person in the room who has never experienced and still doesn't comprehend the finality of death

agatha runs, she can't do anything else. rio is the only one that cares.

she looks so pathetic in that getup. her behaving like a little girl is not so funny anymore, is it?

as always, rio watches her. she has a lot to think about after this trial.

but alice needs her undivided attention now. lady death has to clock in.

I'm glad that we keep focusing on agatha's reaction. she used to be able to kill people and shake it off (or at least pretend to). she cannot shake alice off

and it was all for a tiny spark of magic. that is all that's left of alice on the mortal plane

when billy confronts her she visibly recoils and shrinks in on herself, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar

one hand on her own heart, one on billy's heart. like she's begging and willing him to understand

it's not: you lied. it's you lied to me. it's personal. it's the trust he had in a mentor and mother figure, irrevocably broken

agatha never lies to billy. she's shitty with him in many other ways, but she doesn't lie

billy, honey. you set out on a road trip with a literal serial killer.

agatha had this mad fantasy of billy and her becoming a family, a coven two. and of course she went and ruined it. she always does

jen has all her walls firmly up, she won't allow herself to grieve for alice. she's still on the verge of walking a dark path, and agatha is the one pushing and pushing her toward it

lilia, who has lost and grieved so many, is just numb with pain. Death is unstoppable. hey guys, remember the first three episodes? when everything seemed so fun and carefree?

to billy witches were spellbooks and broomsticks and hot topic eyeliner. how do you explain to a kid the ugliness and violence and trauma that will inevitably fester in a marginalized, repressed community?

from the mouth of a child. she might have killed alice by accident. she has been deliberately and systematically killing many more to serve her own agenda.

and what agatha does, when confronted with ugly truths? she runs, and if she can't run, she goes all in with the spectacle and the cruelty

she could have picked any moment to talk about wanda. she could have broken the news gently, eased billy into understanding what he's been doing. now she's just lashing out in anger and fear and pain. billy did just put her through hell, but she's still the only adult of the two, no matter how immature she wishes to act

when push comes to shove, when it all becomes too much, agatha will latch to her self-preservation instincts and choose to protect herself over anyone else, even the people she loves. She's doing it with billy, she's doing it with rio. I'd argue that she did it with nicky, too.

hey, hey agatha, remember what happened the last time you poked a chaos witch with a stick? you dumb idiot.

fucking around meets finding out etc etc etc etc

boy is she SCREAMING. this bitch will never go down quietly, she'll snivel and cry like the sad pathetic creature she is

and the parallels and the irony of billy hurting jen and lilia in his grief.

do you guys laugh too when bille ellish pops in?? I love how agatha later says that billy is dramatic because he's a maximoff. honey, wanda was only ever coming up with cute sitcom scenarios. this is all your doing, you and your dramatic ass. this is your son. drama queen and drama queen in training.

go to episode 6 part 1

[smilelikeawolf]

The Doom of Aeor was not just one thing.

The Betrayer Gods, so full of hate for mortals, so full of hurt at their siblings choosing their creations over them, stepped into the world to destroy everything themselves.

The archmages built a weapon to kill the gods, because the Calamity was destroying the world.

The archmages built the God Hammer at the heart of Aeor, so that anything that went wrong with risked destroying the city.

The Prime Deities didn’t explain the threat of Predathos, and how they needed all the gods to live in order to fight it should it ever break free.

The Wildmother, scared to reveal how much the Primes and Betrayers still loved each other in spite of everything, because she wasn’t ready to be judged by her children.

The Primes not holding themselves to the same rules they placed onto Solars and mortals.

Cognouza fucking off into the Astral Sea destroyed the teleportation leylines and therefore killed any chance the Aeorians had to escape.

The Arch Heart refused to embrace Primarch Selena when she asked for forgiveness. The rejection that caused her throw the trapped sibling into the God Hammer and cast Wish.

The Arch Heart chose to save their sibling, that trapped god, instead of Counterspelling the Wish.

Primarch Selena using Wish to send knowledge of the God Hammer to every wizard still in Aeor. Wizards who might have been smaller in number had it not been for Cognouza, had they been able to leave before the knowledge was dispersed.

Asmodeus and the Betrayers, choosing to use the God Hammer to kill their siblings when their siblings refused to kill them. Asmodeus tricking them all and acquiring the scroll to the God Hammer and setting it off.

The Arch Heart, redirecting the energy of the God Hammer into the city he’d wanted to save, trading mortal lives for his and their siblings.

The gods’ inability to make peace with their own mortality. They, who in their youth, fled the only home they’d ever known, watching as Predathos consumed it, consumed their family, watching loved ones gone in a flash. Their desperate flight into Reality that forced them into their bodies forever constructed by what they felt in that moment.

Trauma born from fear born from loss born from pain born from love.

[inamindfarfaraway]

In the first episode of Season Six, “Startouched”, a white-haired girl in her late teens has emerged from a body of water onto a beach lit by the sun, and seen her not-actually-dead father who she lost two years ago restored to complete life with a dark magic spell that demands blood be spilled. She’s distraught after the intense trauma of killing another member of her family. Her father made peace with passing on, but she selfishly couldn’t bear losing him and acted to keep his spirit tethered to the mortal world, hurting him in the process. She stands, then falls. Someone she loves dearly, the male former high mage of Katolis with brown hair who has repeatedly used dark magic but solemnly sworn off it, embraces her and she returns it. But then he abandons her. She is unbalanced, despairing, directionless and lost.

In the last episode of Season Six, “Stardust”, a white-haired girl in her late teens has emerged from a body of water onto a beach lit by the moon, and is about to see her not-actually-dead father who she lost two years ago restored to complete life with a primal magic spell that demands blood be spilled. She’s relieved after the intense catharsis of enabling other members of her family to die. They made peace with passing on, and she selflessly accepted losing both of them and acted to heal and free their tethered spirits. She falls, then stands. Someone she loves dearly, the male high mage of Katolis with brown hair who has repeatedly used dark magic but solemnly sworn off it, embraces her and she returns it. He will never abandon her. She is mature, hopeful, purposeful and found.

[eliza-forget]

PLEASE tell us more about your Leshy and the two cats!!!!! The cats are so pretty and also so is your art. I love your art so so so so so much 💖

Well, I'll start by saying that the Leshy himself in my AU is quite dark, violent, and traumatized. He survived the sudden betrayal of Narinder (as the one he trusted and looked up to most as a child), he survived all the turmoil associated with the fact that faith in the bishops was shaken, I call this period as "shaky", and the whole four were on the verge of losing their authority. And already during the game's storyline, Lamb's campaigns, Heket died. In my Au, which is mostly based on my insane playthrough of the game, Leshy was the last Bishop to be killed by Lamb. I mean, there was this sequence: Heket> Shamura> Kallamar. I have that point actually explained in the storyline, but that's not what the main question is about xd.

In the works, where you see him in the clothes of a follower (yes-yes that red one), has its own meaning. It's like a sign of his acceptance of a new way of life and to some extent, a rejection of the past. In this story, he's processing his traumas, learning the ways and lives of mortals, and then he makes two close friends: those two cats.

In general, I can characterize my Leshy as a personality. He changes slowly, but throughout the narrative in my Au. Leshy is still the Bishop of Chaos, in terms of character, but has softened a bit because of his environment in which he resides.

Tirena

Let me briefly tell you about Tirena's storyline. Her parents were nomads who came from other lands to the lands of the Old Faith. They mostly moved between locations, but eventually stopped at Darkwood.In fact, Tirena's family was loyal to what was happening in the lands and tried to please all the local cruel rules. The turning point of the plot for Tirena came at the time of her coming of age, for which her parents sacrificed themselves to the bishop, and she was given a necklace (but not the one she wears now) in memory of her parents. As a result of which she ran away from the place. Stumbled upon Lamb by accident, from behind a campfire in the night. So in the story, she showed up in his settlement and became a devoted disciple in the future, but still with an unconcealed grudge against the bishops.

In comic, she got into an altercation with Narinder on the same topic.

Yolk (yellow cat)

Yolk's former name was Najulmer, and he changed his name at the settlement. His parents were the same cultists who, long after Leshy's death, continued the resistance. Yolk did not share the same point of view with them; he was more interested in studying the world around him, and specifically its strange inhabitants. So he set out on his wanderings in search of that "paradise" by which he meant the Lamb's settlement. Along the way meeting various companions, studying monsters and even cooking with them. He has already been rescued by Lamb when he was trapped by the treachery of his recent companion. In the settlement he quickly finds contact with Tirena, or rather she has to tolerate his intrusive company. Then Lamb returns from a camping trip and summons Leshy from purgatory and he becomes both a nightmare for Yolk, but and an intriguing object of study. He btw yes, never once saw the bishops and didn't even know that Leshy was one.

Somehow that's what the plot of these three sounds like. I hope it was interesting and informative to learn about them!