#he dies lonely and unhappy

[darabeatha]

 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒:ㅤJason .

[radiantmists]

i just finished the brief lives arc, and... ow

[serpentandlily]

We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader

We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel deals with the aftermath of losing his mate. (Part I)

Warnings: angst, death, self-harm

A/n: An epilogue of sorts to Birds of a Feather - Read HERE. Thanks for all your love!! 

• ───────────────── •

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave

'Til I rot away, dead and buried

'Til I'm in the casket you carry

• ───────────────── •

It was dead silent in the Temple. Many fae had come today to pay their respect and to honor the female that died during the war with Koschei—the female that had bravely lured the Death God to his demise and had ultimately met her own in the end.

Azriel had watched the service from the shadows, consumed by his shame and grief. Grief over losing his mate, his best friend, and the chance at a long life with her. Shame from not being able to protect her, from not realizing the mating bond between the two of them until it was far too late and for those last few words he had spoken to her that had only pushed her further into a suicide mission. 

You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.

The words haunted him. 

She haunted him. 

Azriel had always been good at ruining his own life. But saying those words was single handedly the worst mistake he had ever made. He hadn't meant them. Of course he hadn't meant them. He loved Y/n. He had since the day he had met her. She was his closest friend—someone he had felt comfortable with. But he had been so blind...blinded by Mor and her vivacious personality...blinded by Elain and the sunshine she had brought to the Night Court. 

All along his mate had been right by his side. The one person he had been searching for all his years of living had been right in front of him and he hadn't even noticed. 

Azriel walked down the long aisle towards the casket that was displayed on the dais. His footsteps echoed in the now silent chamber—not even his own heart beat could be heard. No, his heart had stopped beating the second hers had. 

He fiddled with the flower in his hand, swallowing the tears and sadness that threatened to consume him. He owed her this. He wasn't going to run and hide himself in the shadows as he'd been doing the past week. He needed to be here today. 

Azriel finally stopped in front of the casket and choked on his own bile as the sweet, comforting scent of his mate reached his nose. This felt all too much like a nightmare—one he was stuck in with no way out. Cursed to repeat this day from beginning to end for the rest of his existence. 

She would never stop haunting him.

And he didn't want her to. 

If the ghost of her was the only thing left of his mate in this world, he would cling to it for the rest of his days. 

Azriel placed the spirit lily on top of the casket, the glowing silver petals matched the marble stone. He had searched day and night to find this flower. It was your spirit lily. The one that had bloomed when you died. 

"I'm so sorry," he cried, the tears finally falling. "I'm so sorry." 

He fell to his knees before the casket, one scarred hand sliding along the cold marble as he continued to repeat those words over and over and over again. 

"I am so sorry."

• ───────────────── •

If you go, I'm going too, 

'Cause it was always you, alright

And if I'm turning blue, please don't save me

Nothing left to lose without my baby

• ───────────────── •

Azriel's ears were ringing as he sat at the kitchen table in the cottage that Elain and he had purchased a few weeks before their wedding. It was the first time he had stepped inside since the war with Koschei. It was the first time he'd even been in the Night Court since the loss of his mate and best friend. 

"I understand that you need time to process this, Azriel, I really do," Elain pleaded with him. "But we made vows to each other the day we married. Vows that were supposed to transcend any mating bond." 

Azriel's shadows wailed from the corners of the room. They had started searching for Y/n the day she died and hadn't stopped their cries of panic since then.

It had been a month already.

A whole, entire month had passed by without you. 

And here he was—dark circles lining his eyes, stubble on his hollowed jaw and a song he'd never hear again playing on repeat in his mind. His mating song. His soul's song. His soul that was desperately crying out for its other half. 

"I can't do this, Elain," he spoke, voice hoarse from disuse. "I'm sorry." 

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Elain questioned, crossing her arms and leaning on the kitchen counter. "Azriel, I rejected my own mate for you. I...I thought we were in this together. We talked about the day you might find your own and we agreed that you'd reject it too." 

"I know," Azriel whispered, his forlorn eyes stuck on the cracks on the floor. "But I didn't know what I was giving up the day we made those vows, Elain. I'm sorry. I truly am. But this...this is different. Lucien was a stranger to you. I thought if I ever met my mate, she'd be a stranger to me as well. But Y/n was my best friend. I've loved her for centuries."

"All that time together and yet, you still never went after her," Elain argued. 

Those words landed a heavy blow in his gut. Elain was right. He had known his mate for years and years and never once did he think of her as anything more than a friend. But that wasn't because of her. No, he had done that to himself. 

He had found a companion with Y/n. She saw him in ways no one else did. He'd be lying if he said that hadn't scared him. For someone to see through him—through all the good and to the rotting, decaying bad that existed in him. He was a monster hiding in plain sight and she had seen that. She had seen all of that and loved him anyway. 

And he had ran from it—from her. It was his own self-hatred that caused him to never see Y/n that way. She reminded him of everything that he was because she was all the same. She was the missing piece to his broken soul. But she had been beautiful in her darkness, hauntingly exquisite in her shadows. And he had been a brutish beast who thought that someone could vanquish the darkness that surrounded him.

What he hadn't realized was that he was never looking for a light to cast the shadows away. Not really. He had been fighting a storm whose tides had only been trying to bring him home to her. To his mate. His soul and heart and mind.  

And now she was gone and she had taken all of his love with her. 

Azriel stood from his seat, barely present in this reality. "I'm sorry, Elain. No words will change my mind nor my heart. I belonged to Y/n. It is only my fault that I never saw that." 

And it was his fault. 

All of it was his fault.  

• ───────────────── •

And I don't know what I'm crying for

I don't think I could love you more

It might not be long, but baby, I

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

• ───────────────── •

"Papa, who is that?"

Nyx's innocent voice caught Rhysand's attention. He followed Nyx's gaze to the corner of the room where Azriel stood, wreathed in his shadows. It had been years since any of them had laid eyes on the elusive shadowsinger. Years since he had been so consumed with his grief that he had disappeared from this court, from Prythian entirely. 

But there was one day he always returned.

The anniversary of Y/n's death. 

Cassian had ambushed him before he made it to her gravesite and all but dragged him to this family dinner. It broke Rhysand's heart that his son didn't recognize one of his uncles.

"That's Azriel," Rhysand answered, clearing his throat. "He's one of your uncles. He used to be around a lot when you were just a baby." 

"Oh," Nyx said, tilting his head as he looked at the shadowsinger. "He seems...sad. Why is he so sad, Papa?" 

Rhysand's heart snapped in his chest. The loss of Y/n had been felt by all of them, of course. But for Azriel...it had destroyed him. None of them had known about the mating bond between the two of them. They had been caught off guard just as much as Azriel had been. Rhys had felt an inkling that she might've been in love with him due to her slowly distancing herself once he and Elain had gone public with their relationship.

He had only thought she needed space and time. He hadn't realized that she had been slowly wilting away. And no one had done a single thing to help her. They had all failed her. 

Sometimes he felt a fire-burning rage towards his brother. He had tried to steer him away from Elain that Solstice night but Azriel hadn't listened to him. Perhaps if he had, Y/n might still be here. Perhaps the mating bond would've finally snapped in place for Azriel. But instead he had stubbornly doubled-down on his feelings for Elain. 

"He lost someone he loved," Rhys choked out. "We all did. Do you remember the stories about Y/n?" 

Nyx clapped his tiny hands together with a smile. Gwyn had made sure that Y/n's name had been honored and recorded in the new books about the war with Koschei. A story that was being passed down through the years. A story Nyx had read time and time again because it was his favorite. 

"She was the warrior who faced a Death God all on her own!" Nyx exclaimed. "She led him straight to the trap where he was ambushed!"

Rhysand smiled, patting his son on the head. It had been too hard to speak her name after her death but slowly, they had all started talking about her more and more. Perhaps it was finally time to tell his son the whole story. Rhys glanced at Azriel again, who was a shell of his former self. Perhaps not the whole story.

"Well, before all of that," Rhys started, "Y/n was our friend..."

• ───────────────── •

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone

Can't change the weather, might not be forever

But if it's forever, it's even better

• ───────────────── •

Azriel was kneeling on the grass, his hands grasping the beautiful stone marker of your gravesite as his eyes combed over the engraving: 

Here lies Y/n

Beloved Daughter, Sister and Friend

The stars will shine brighter with you among them 

Rest in Peace

"I have tried to go on for your sake," Azriel murmured. "Because I know that is what you would've wanted. But I can't...I can't do this without you. I relive every day I've shared with you and it is still not enough to make me miss you any less. I am sorry that it took your death to make me realize just how much you meant to me." 

Azriel had gone through it all in his head time and time again. Always reliving moments where he could've seen what was right in front of him all along yet didn't. Your last words to him constantly looped in his mind. 

"I'll find...you...again. Maybe...maybe I'll be...good enough...then."

Those words could not be more untrue. It was always him who had never been good enough for you. Not you. Never you. You had always been as beautiful as the moon reflected on the sea, alluring and mysterious but peaceful. So peaceful. Despite the darkness the two of you shared, you'd always been so soft and kind to those around you...those who had never felt the kind of pain you'd gone through. 

You lured people in because of your grace. You gave people a safe place to exist in. Your shadows had felt like a warm blanket on a chilly night. Your smile had rivaled the moonlight. 

You had always been far more special than you knew. 

Your mistake had been thinking you could out love his hatred for himself. 

But the mating bond had opened his eyes. Although he had only gotten a few seconds with his mate, its song had told him everything he needed to know. He no longer hated his shadows or the anger he felt inside. He no longer hated himself. How could he? How could he hate himself when part of him was you? 

And he could never hate you. 

Gods, he could never be without you. Your souls were intertwined. 

But living in this world without you was something he could not bear. He was consumed by your memory. He looked for you in everything. In the sea, in the breeze, in the faces of random people, down alleyways and behind every door. But you were not here. You were not here and so he decided he could not be here, either. 

"You said you'd find me again," Azriel whispered. "You said you'd find me again but that is not enough. I cannot sit here and wait for you. I will crawl through Hell and everything that is ready for me when my life ends to find you. This life means nothing to me without you in it. You were my heart, Y/n. I love you. I've always loved you. And I am ready to prove that in our next life."

Azriel slid Truth-teller from its sheath and turned it over in his hand, pointing the blade directly as his own heart. He closed his eyes, tuned out all noise except that of the leaves gently rustling in the breeze. 

"I love you, Y/n," he murmured, gripping the blade tighter. "And I can't wait to see you again." 

His dagger pierced through skin and bone until it reached his heart. 

Until all life was spilled from inside of him. 

Until his final breath carried with the wind. 

Until he could finally see his love again.

• ───────────────── •

I knew you in another life

You had that same look in your eyes

I love you, don't act so surprised

[balrogballs]

I have never had a normal thought since I realised Aragorn/Estel would have been around 10 years old — more like 7/8 considering his heritage — when Thorin's Company passes through Rivendell, so here are some brainrot headcanons (continued under the cut):

Estel is obsessed with Thorin. Just completely obsessed. Follows him around everywhere like a cat, begs him to play with him, offers to run errands for him. Literally every elf in Rivendell is completely stunned at the behaviour because Estel is, normally, a card-carrying ankle-biter.

The Dwarves, on the other hand, are shocked by the fact that by a few days into the visit, Thorin seems to like Estel too. Gloin would have sworn that he expected Thorin to throw the child off the banisters the minute he made him hold his pet python. Thorin didn't just hold said snake, but played with him, let him do little odd jobs, even letting him sit up with him at the dining halls. On two evenings, he even takes Estel out with a wooden sword, to show him how to "fight like a Dwarf lord". All the Dwarves are just as shook as the elves, minus Kili and Fili, who knew Thorin as Uncle Thorin and are completely unsurprised that he is so wonderful with little Estel.

Lindir and Elrond find a content python snoozing in Elrond's study. Lindir and Elrond are both utterly and irrationally terrified of snakes. After much screaming and climbing on sofas, every member of staff swears Estel had been in his mother's quarters all day. Nobody thinks to mention that they saw Bilbo and Thorin hanging about outside the study, because what relevance could that possibly have?

When the company left Rivendell, Estel was understandably quite unhappy because he'd miss them, also they were going to see a dragon, and he begged to go with them. Thorin does what most parents do before going on a trip, and promises to bring him a present from the dragon's lair when they returned.

Bilbo returns without Thorin, but with the promised present for Estel. He visits the boy in his quarters and they hold each other and share their grief. Bilbo then shows him the present. He explains how Thorin wanted to give him something more substantial than a golden cup scraped off the floor of a dragon's lair — he had told Bilbo, the night before the battle, to give the boy Thorin's own solid gold wristband.

On the same return trip, Elrond expressed his condolences over Thorin's death, and enquired if there were other casualties. When he finds out that Kili and Fili had also died in the battle, a strange, terrible expression twisted across his face and he said, almost reflexively, both? both together? good. that's good. The remaining Dwarves and Bilbo were all stunned, thinking it was Elvish apathy at best, and deliberate disrespect at worst. After all, they had no reason to know that Elrond, like his immortal brethren, found it somewhat difficult to gauge the ages of mortal beings — and had thought the two late brothers were twins.

Decades later on the night before the Fellowship were set to depart, the elderly Bilbo Baggins found it hard to sleep from worry, and wandered onto the balcony, and saw a lone man practicing sword moves in the courtyard. He realises both man and combat style seem faintly familiar, like the heavy striding and swinging and slashing are the steps to an old dance he once used to know, which now lives in a deep, forgotten place within him, under layers of unravelling memories. He can't quite put his finger on it. But there is a strange comfort in the sight, so soothing Bilbo's eyes start to close, falling asleep curled up right there on the balcony. He slips off into a wonderful old dream, lulled by the rhythm of fallen leaves crunching in the courtyard — where Aragorn "fights like a dwarf", solid gold wristband twinkling under the light of the stars.

[sugar-grigri]

Recipe for creating God! In just 9 steps by Barem Bridge

Let's turn things upside down this time. I'll start directly with the conclusion and we'll work our way back.

My conclusion: Barem wants to create a god.

Step 1: create commitment, it's important to go about it the opposite way round, get followers (focus on the young if you want to make a mark on a generation), set up a real infrastructure with even prophets who look like followers but are superior, the great chosen ones!

Step 2: Sow chaos. This is important to make people understand the need for a great savior. Make the icon a sin, and pretending to be a savior a sin too. Don't hesitate to contact the fire demon for help.

Step 3: make sure that whoever is to be your deity is alone, has no one close to him and is very lonely. Worse, becoming himself is his only answer. Don't hesitate to do it in front of a big sacrificial fire. For best results, break what little sane spirit remains in your deity. What god can be sane? That's not what we ask of them!

Step 4: You can take inspiration from other bases you know, take inspiration from the Christian area. Not all men believed in Jesus, and Jesus was tortured. That's a good thing, because it has a double benefit. Firstly, if your deity doesn't close himself off to humans, it'll show his great wisdom, but above all, if he can be resurrected, it makes it easier to create his myth.

Step 5: Next, trust the elements that are simmering in your heart: a little loneliness, betrayal, grief, physical pain. Trust the torment of the story so that your hero's only hope is dashed. Did he believe in sex? Let him be further tormented so he understands that it won't make him happy, but also unhappy. And then you get something interesting, a martyr.

Step 6: You have your martyr, and your preparation allows his suffering to be properly directed. His sexual assault? His grief? It's important that it doesn't make him want to live. A god doesn't live, humans do. But God is simply there. He exists in himself. Never dies, but never lives either. Above all, make sure that the gap between him and mankind widens a little. Let the misunderstanding between him and mortals deepen.

Step 6: You need an antagonist, an opposing force. Focus on one of his loved ones, like Lucifer, the angel who once carried the light, who also symbolizes hope. But make him a traitor, a source of violence, a monster who doesn't feel sadness. Careful, we're talking about a pebble here, a betrayal, but it takes much more to create Le Diable.

Step 7: Keep your god under control, as his torments could destabilize him. You're the one in charge, so you've got the situation under control. Be confident in your abilities. Trust your ingredients.

As fish and sushi symbolize hope, your divinity no longer looks at them. The hand is an enigma for your divinity, a symbol of prayer, of the link with others, of its humanity, but a hand that is also cruel, violent, devastating yet gentle, yet playing on buried desires. Human complexity lies in this hand. It is the barrier that separates your divinity from the rest of the world. This symbol of rapprochement. And distance. Let him still believe in this hand. This possibility of being normal. Still keep your divinity under wraps.

Step 8: But don't forget to feed it. Put the fish aside and take back what the bird brings you. You know, that light bird that's also a weight, symbolizing your relationship with others, especially what they think. Worrying too much about this enchanting bird can lead to tragedy, just as hoping to hear all the songs will make you look like a heretic - you can't be a god. There is only one. Chainsaw Man.

No… All you can do is beg. Pray. Like a mere mortal.

It's vital that your divinity feeds on these unborn thoughts, they're not even birds. They're just eggs. Only God can eat them, as an omniscient being.

And there you have your divinity, a beautiful dish, but what exactly is it for? Several things.

Tasting: You created light, so you created shadow. Or rather, the absence of light. To create this being of darkness, this being must be completely hermetic to this being of light, opposed, closed, above all: it must feel betrayed and abandoned by it. The absence of light is none other than Lucifer, the former bearer of light and God's right-hand man.

And there you have it: for your divinity to have access to Lucifer and oppose him, it has to accept its role as a divinity. Adapt to it. And so, finally, accept your role as savior.

Savior from what? From the apocalypse!

By doing so, you protect humanity and contribute to your ideal.

ET VOILÀÀÀ you have your champion!!!!! God? Chainsaw Man? Noooo, God himself is an ingredient.

Step 10: Wish the God Devil bon appétit

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[agentem]

Three of Pentacles

I keep hearing people complain that the "sisterhood" of the Coven in Agatha All Along was a sham because they only exist to support Billy, the lone male.

But that's not true. *stamps foot angrily.*

They are Lilia's coven. In her reading, the "reason for her quest" is community. They are the reason she is on this journey. And she is the one who writes the names down and choses the team (although maybe she should've reconsidered writing Alice's name since she dies but what exactly happens when she writes the names down--and the lights flicker--seems to be differen than the time gaps. It also happens when she sees what William will become. It seems almost involuntary? Also Lilia mentions the "path behind" are lessons learned so Alice dying might be important to Lilia accepting her own death? She mentions the path behind is "lessons learned." And that might have something to do with the repeated "Death comes for us all" line. Not sure.)

Anyway! TLDR, she's the Nick Fury of these Witch Avengers.

I think she needs this group (Agatha, Billy, Jen and Alice. Rio and Sharon are not included on the list) to help her through her end. To accept her fate. And he's important to that, to helping her think outside of herself. But he's "the windfall" the thing that might happen, but only if Agatha's trauma can be overcome. Jen is the guaranteed "path ahead."

Agatha's lines about not being able to divine when Death will come, heal Nicky or protect him suggest that she also needs a Coven. But she never embraces this particular group like Lilia does when she tells them she loves them. Agatha does show growth by sacrificing herself for Billy and then joining him on his quest. (The reason for his quest is The Sun/Reunion and it isn't achieved by the end of the series.)

Although I do get that the ending feels a bit... unfinished and some people are unhappy with that. Lilia is the only one who completes her "quest." But I don't think Marvel wants to be done with Agatha or Billy yet.

[geordikisser]

brat taming | tanner | 18+

epilogue: you have a horrible potty mouth and tanner doesn’t necessarily miiiiind that, or at all ever! until it’s towards him and he loves a power struggle soo ^_^ he doesn’t mind proving you wrong.

content contains! biting/marking, degrading, power struggle, jealous! tanner ..

⤷ afab anatomy used but gender isn’t specified! sorry ..

petnames used: sugar, honey, babe, baby, hunnybunny, slut, whore

you were live and playing some overwatch on tanners set up. he was downstairs, watching on his laptop. you were on dps and played tracer. you weren’t doing entirely horrible but your team was horrible. ☹️

“yall say hear me out and it’s on a conventionally attractive character bruh shut up.” you say mid laugh as you see the big fat ‘defeat’ on your screen. you felt so tempted to explode something. you join team chat and immediately shit on your team with every diabolical and tos friendly insults you can think of.

something you said made tanners stomach knot up. in a negative way .. the way your other teammate endorsed it sexually made him extremely like .. jealous?? is what he would call it.

bigTstreamingservice: WOAH!!!!!! ❌❌ BAD!!!! DONT SAYTHAT!!!!! 👎

“tanner shut your yap!! i say what i want. bitch.” you imitate a spit sound as you enter the practice range, now bored.

bigTstreamingservice: oh word 🤨

he types in chat as you snort. “on lone. tuh.” you emphasize you smacking your lips.

tanner finds himself getting up and walking to his room shortly after. you were searching on youtube for a subway surfers game footage to entertain your chat as you tell them a story. you’re laughing your ass off as you tell some random ass story.

“my name is larry ‘jamal’ croft winston.. i’m 17 years old.. —“ you quickly were cut off by an unsettling noise behind you.

you hear the door crack behind you, slowly spinning around in the chair. “hellou.” you say calmly. tanner can’t help but laugh his ass off. “THE ENERGY SWITCH??” he screams as you scoff. “WHAT ENERGY SWITCH? I NEVER SWITCH UP.” you say in a specific tone that just adds fuel to the flame of his laughter. “YES YOU DO?” he smiles, exhaling heavily.

he pulls a chair and sits besides you, towering over you slightly. “how’s it cooking, good lookin’.” he smiles at you all goofy. “you tryna find out?” you grumble. “100%. are you muted?” he asks as you double check quickly before giving him a ‘no’.

“bye.” he replied, smiling a bit. “i forgor..” you drool as he takes the mouse and reopens overwatch. “overwatch time!! i’ll coach you.” he huffs confidently. “girl there’s footage of you playing overwatch, i think i’ll be good.” you side eye him as he gives you a dimly look back.

“dude. shut up.” you stammer as he lets out a laugh. you queue up for a game and tanners hand ends up on your inner thigh, squeezing it comfortably. “DON’T TOUCH ME CREEP!!” you exclaim, loud enough for someone next door to hear it. he jumped and slowly turned to you, unhappy.

you begin to get frustrated at overwatch slowly and started slamming your hands on the desk like a little toddler and trying to reason with tanner each time you died or did a terrible play, him smiling and nodding.

“i hate you omg, I HATE FLASHBANG.” you whine as you squirm in your chair. he huffs out a breathy laugh as he fixes his hair, pulling it back. “who could hate this?” he says comically. “ME!” you retort almost instantly.

eventually, stream ends. you wrap it up due to tanners unsettling aura at the moment, you hope what you said didn’t actually upset him.

you turn to him and smile, “hai.” you coo out as he smiles in return. “hey hunnybunny, how are you?” he asks as he reaches for your thigh again, holding it gently. “i’m alright. overwatch sucks without friends..” you sigh out. he grimaced slightly.

tanner recently developed jealously problems that he was self aware of. he never saw himself as a jealous person, he’s really goofy and silly! until he got with you, he never realized how jealous he got over small things anyway, it was mild at the moment. he wishes he could’ve played with you instead of issac. (the person you played with)

“you could’ve played with me y’know.” he grumbled, attempting to hide this feeling. he trusted you and isaac equally, he had no reason not to. but it’s inevitable for him he feels.

you look up at him with a raised brow. he analyzes your expression and scratches the back of his neck. “cuz.. i can carry you.” he smiles awkwardly, his gaze leaving yours. “you sound a little green-eyed there tanner.” you grin.

“stop.” he groans softly as he turns away entirely. “you jealous, baby?” you lean forward. he sits there in a resentful silence.

his brows remain furrowed. “you upset isaac is better at overwatch than you?” you egg on. he slowly turns to you. “the same guy who screams when he isn’t healed in one second. that isaac is better than me.” he said more as a statement that question, laughing slightly.

“does 10-10 ring a bell.” you look away like you’re thinking. he sits up and looks at you with bitterness in his eyes, a cocky grin smeared on his face. “baby.” he started. you hum in response. “don’t start this with me.” his breathing hitched. “what are you gonna do about it, hm?” you raise your brow with a grin.

within a instance, tanners hands were on your waist and pulled you into him, kissing you gently on the lips. his tongue exploding down your throat.

you were taken aback from the sudden action and melted slightly into the kiss. realizing his plan.

you pull away quickly, your hands on his chest. “wait.” you scowl. “i see what you’re doing!!” you jump up, his hands slide down off your waist. he raised his brow confused. “what am i doing, sugar.” his tone laced with confidence. your lip quivers as you feel your face heat up. “tanner..” you huff, quietly. he stands up, towering over you once again. he slowly begins to back you up to the bed as you stumble back onto the bed.

your eyes examine his body, the bulge dented in his pants and the pattern his chest heaved up and down in. he was pent up.

“did you want this, tanner?” you grin as he rolls his eyes. “you can cut this act cuz we both know ill shut it down real quick, honey.” he sits down besides you, turns to face you and leans over. kissing you sweetly. you begin to straddle on top of him and holding his face as the kiss gets more passionate and passionate. the bulge in his pants evident against your own crotch.

tanners breath hitches as you grind against his bulge. he leans back slightly as you continue to grind against him. you smile cockily at him as you kiss his jaw. “you’re so sweet for me, tanner.” you say between kisses on his jaw, lowering to his neck. he lets out a little whimper as he begins to grip your hips slightly after. helping you grind against him.

“fuck..” he pants as you caress his cheek. he tugs at the rim of your sweats and you kiss him one final time and begin slip off your own pants, your underwear remaining.

“good..” he smirks as he pushes your back against the bed, taking you aback. you gasp as he is on top of you. “don’t act cute, such a slut.” he giggles as he slips off your undies. “i’m gonna make you forget your name, sweetheart. :3” he kisses your neck, leaving a very prominent mark on it. he lowers his head & begins to tease your hole. his tongue tickling you perfectly. you gulp and let out a heavy sigh, coming out in a shaky tone.

his hands gripping your things as he licks around your clit. you practically chew down onto your lip as your back arches into his mouth. “tanner..” you pant as you told the back of his head and begin grinding into his mouth. he stops.

“nuh uh, sorry baby.” he lifts his head and removes his hold from your thighs and holds your wrists. “you want me to abuse your sweet clit, right?” he hums. you look away, pride slipping down the drain. “y—yeah..” you huff, your eyes shut tightly. “look. don’t touch.” he removes his grab he had on your wrists previously & slaps the side of your thigh. you yelp, growling lowkey afterwards. he giggles as he begins to tongue fuck you. his attention being to your clit and then fucking you with his tongue simultaneously.

“you like that? you like when i fuck your sweet hole with my tongue?” he drags out as you can only whimper in response. “fuck… you—..” you manage to squeeze out as he pulls away to bite your thigh. “keep it cute, slut.” he spits on your abused cunt and sits up, taking off his pants. you flinch at the impact of the spit.

his hard cock flings out & he begins to stroke himself. he lets a string of spit fall to the tip of his cock and covers his cock with his spit. “you ready, baby?” he smiles at you. you nod in response. “no? awww that’s a shame.. you can watch me stroke my hard cock infront of you then.” he pouts slightly. you furrow your brows. “tanner..” you murmur. he raises his brow, humming as he acknowledges you.

“stop being a dick.” you spat in response. he smacks his lips and shakes his head. “no no no baby, that’s not how you answer.” he lowers down to your collar bone and bites down. you exclaim and he covers your mouth.

”tell me you want this dick, like a good whore would.” he pants as he continues to bite down on you. he lifts his hand from your mouth, “i-i want your cock, tanner.” you sob out as the bite marks begin to hurt more. “such a masochist.” he lifts his head and kisses you gently on the lips. “good slut.”

he puts his tip in slowly as his cock melts inside you completely. he groans out as he begins to thrust immediately, giving you zero time to adjust. you didn’t deserve it in his eyes.

you begin to drool and tear up. tanners thrusting pattern is ingrained into your hole. he begins to tend to your nipples and suck on one and tease the other one with his hand. you were already pretty close due to him teasing your clit previously. “m’close..” you whine out, pathetically. he gives you a cute smile in return. making your stomach knot up. “i love you, t—tanner..” you coo out, drunkenly. your tears staining your cheeks. “love so much..” he cries out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“i love you more, baby.” he smiled at you, kissing your cheek, now your lips. you reach your climax, moaning into the kiss. he smiles into the kiss as he pulls away. panting slightly. he pulls out and places his cock on top of your crotch and his cum drips out all over your stomach.

he lies besides you and kisses your shoulders. cuddling you as you feel woozy, recovering slowly but surely. “my sweet baby, took my cock so good for me.” he mumbles between kisses as you try to cuddle into him. he stops you immediately. “wait wait!! i don’t want my jizz on my bed.. let’s get you cleaned, ‘kay?” he grins awkwardly as you whine. “okay..”you huff as you sit up. your belly covered in cum. “my pretty pretty baby. so gorgeous.” he smiled ear to ear, as he leads you to his bedroom.

[aonungyoufuck]

Runaway

Part: Two

Pairing: Ao’nung X Sully Fem!reader

Synopsis : You had Saved Neteyam’s life. Norm and Max Extracting the Bullet but Healing the way Ronal sought to. Being kept at her side to make sure as she put it ‘your recklessness doesn’t kill you’. This leaves you to bond not only with Tsireya a bit more. But Ao’nung as well. Much to Ronal’s dismay

“Breathe how you were taught. It will help ease the pain.” Ronal’s stern voice spoke as she bandaged you up. 

As much as she wanted to hate you and your family for putting not only her people But her children in the dead center of your family’s war. She couldn’t be more thankful that no lives were lost. Not yet if she had a say in it at least. 

“Now lay down Gently. You will stay here till i see you are better”

You nodded. Gulping down a groan as you could barely breathe without any pain. 

“Your Family is allowed to see you. But do not move” Ronal ordered as she stepped outside the Marui that was not far from her own. As your luck would have it. You were the only one severely injured. Which left you lonely but also relieved no one got to see you making faces. 

“My child” Neytiri spoke as she approached you. Gently caressing your face in a form of comfort. 

“Y/n How do you feel?” your father asked you. You barely could move but made an effort to turn to look at him.

“Like death itself”

Small laughter erupted and all you could do was smile. 

“Neteyam, How do you find yourself” you asked. 

“Well sister. Thank you for saving me”

You smiled nodding a bit as you looked up ahead. Your rather not suffer Ronal’s wrath if you move too much. 

“I am to stay here. Sorry i cant be with you all”

“It is alright my child. When our duties do not interfere we will come to talk with you” your mother spoke as you enjoyed her gently grazes on your forehead.

As the oldest daughter you suppose you could enjoy taking some time away from your siblings tho at the expense of some pain “Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk! Please do not cause more Trouble to Neteyam while i am out of commission”

You didnt need to look to know the offended gasp Lo’ak was sure to wear. “I do not cause trouble”

“Oh Eywa take me now for that is the fattest lie anyone’s ever told” You commented back sarcastically. Making Neteyam laugh and Tuk giggle. 

“But please. Keep yourself safe for i am not there to beat some sense into you guys” you said a yawn escaping your lips as you grew tired after today’s events. 

“Dont Worry. I’ll be there to keep an eye on them” Spider commented. You had almost forgotten that he had joined in again. 

“Great mother have mercy on this clan” Its not that you didn’t trust Spider to keep an eye on them. The only problem was Spider wasn’t one to back down if it looked ‘fun’

“It looks like your tired. Come on now kids lets head out and let your sister rest. Its been a long day already” Jake said as he hurdled the kids out. Your mother stayed, kissing your head as she headed out as well. 

You stayed there. Listening to the waves crash below you and all around you as you sighed. No matter how tired you were. You couldn’t find sleep. Maybe it was the pain? The quietness that was the lack of your family? Perhaps all that happened today. You did not know why. 

“I see you are awake. Much better as mother brings me food to give you” 

Turning but regretting it immediately you saw who it was. Ao’nung. Not that you have gotten terribly close. But now his face didn't initiate some sort of anger like it use to. “Oh. I would have thought only Ronal and Tsireya would come by.”

“Are you unhappy it is me?”

“Not particularly but you know what i mean”

“I know its just fun that you dont have enough bite as before”

You couldn’t really watch but you heard him set stuff aside as he sat beside you and began to feed you. Perhaps if you had witnessed this before or known before you would have rather died. But now you appreciated the gesture. 

“Tsireya will come by later to reapply some of the paste and change your wraps”

You nodded as you finished your meal. 

“You know. Now that im here i cant really deny but i am glad you are well and alive”

“Really now?”

“Is that hard to believe?”

“Not really” you spoke turning to look at him. This time the pain came from the stiffness in your neck from laying down for so long. “We may not be the best of friends but im Glad all of you are safe too you know?”

“You are strange as you are reckless you know?”

“Would you rather i have died?”

“What? No!”

You smiled.  Extending you hand to him for him to take. And reluctantly he did. All you did was gently rub his hand with your thumb. This sight would have made him hiss in anger before. His normal hand against your ‘freak’ one. But it was comforting knowing you were warm and alive and not dead. Like how you felt before. 

“If it were any of you I would also do this, you know? Not Just my family”

“But why?”

“Well i cant speak for you or for anyone really. But when you tend to know the value of a life that is not yours. You do some crazy stuff”

“Do you not value your life?”

“I do. I am thankful i'm alive right now. But I value all your lives a lot too. You are the Future of this Clan along side your sister if not you. I am without a home, remember?”

“Wow you really are strange”

“Are you saying if it was Tsireya you wouldn’t take the fall for her?”

He was quiet. For he didnt need to answer because you already knew. 

“Being the oldest makes you think the least bit about yourself eh?”

“Shut up you Skxawng”

You smiled. Yawning as you finally felt sleep welcoming you. “If i pass in my sleep. Please do not make fun at anyone else who seeks Uturu. Tho i know you made plenty progress already”

You didn't get to see his face fall. The thought of you passing was hard enough on your family he couldn’t really place why. But he feels like he’d mourn a lot as well. 

Watching you sleep he stayed there. Watching your Chest rise and fall. Perhaps he grew paranoid? Perhaps it was the drilling that he was to ‘protect all he can in the clan’ that his father made sure he knew. But he stayed there. Still holding your hand as he listened to you sleep. 

Had Tsireya not come by at night to change your paste and wounds. You wouldn’t have believed that Ao’nung sat there asleep holding your hand. 

And you may have calmed your quickened heart. 

“It seems the Wounds will take much longer to heal. But its made progress during the night”

You nodded as you listened to Ronal speak as she inspected you. “Understandable. Na’vi bodies or humans are built to take a bullet to the chest” you reasoned as you lifted your arm for her to wrap better. “However, I am feeling much better. Thank you”

“You still cannot move too much alright? I'm Afraid a nerve May have been scrapped as your arm is pretty stiff” 

You could only nod. Taking in a breather as you lowered your arm. “I thank you Tsahik. Tho i ask you how is My family”

“Out doing their Assigned jobs. Even that. Human is helping with a hunt right now”

You smiled nodding to yourself in reassurance. Flicking your fingers as you watched her go. Perhaps one day you can talk more comfortably. But you knew how stressful it was. She was to prepare for a child soon. And here you were taking up time. 

So in the silence of the home you stood and thought. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two, if she allowed it. All to help her of course make a fast delivery. Perhaps you were also just making some excuse to stay a little longer. You didn’t know. 

Time moved painfully slow and all you could really do was rebraid your hair. You silently cursing for the thick amount of hair that had managed to grow in such a small state.

You turned a little to look at the small sheer veil of a ‘door’ being moved. Tsireya greeting you and you greeting her back. 

“I see you can move more than yesterday” she says with a smile. Placing down a bowl of fruit” 

“Ah yes. Still sore. Kinda hard to rebraid my hair with just one hand”

“Would you like me to help you?”

“If you do not mind”

And without much word. Tsireya nodded, stepping behind you. And began to work with what your last hair style was. 

“Actually just braid the ends together please? I feel like i cant stand the pressure of them all in braids”

“Thats perfectly reasonable” 

You smiled feeling the hair loosen and give your head a rest. 

“You know it was kinda of sweet that My brother stayed by your side”

You could only roll your eyes. “ i still cant believe it” 

“But you better believe it. If i hadnt have to wake you You wouldn’t have believed my word” 

“Oh Eywa, I know. But its odd as to why he would stay. I mean we aren’t particularly great friends. Or really friends to begin with. I spend most my time here with you or Roxto at the very least”

“I do know. I was there for most of it” Tsireya spoke, finishing up the ends gently rubbing your hair with an oil that would help protect against the sea. “But Brother isnt at all against you guys now. Im sure now of all you guys can become friends”

‘Perhaps even more’ you silently hoped as you could only lay back down. “Perhaps in this time we can. And perhaps not.”

Tsireya smiled. Scooting the bowl closer to you. “Well I’ll leave this here for when you are hungry. Ao’nung will come by later with some more food”

You bid her goodbye. Listening to the waves. The calming of Eywa all around you. It made you thankful. Thankful to be alive at this very moment.

[redr0sewrites]

If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

[vodika-vibes]

Hey! I know he's a bit of a rare clone, but would you consider writing for maze? he's from the repcomm books and is endearingly (Imo) professional and surly 👉👈

Not That Hard

Summary: When one story ends, another one begins. Maze, formerly a Republic Soldier, is now a bounty hunter. He’s used to things being orderly, everything has a place, and everything should be in its place. So when he ends up locked in a small cell with the woman he’s been searching for, a woman who’s been missing for three weeks, he knows that everything is about to be turned on its head.

Pairing: Pre Maze (Alpha-26) x F!Reader

Word Count: 1722

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I've never written Maze before, but I'm always happy to write any of the Alphas, or any star wars character. His page on Wookieepedia wasn't the best, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it! Also, I've been watching a lot of Numb3rs, so that's where the basic idea of this came from.

Maze leans back against the stone wall, his gaze drifting from the woman sleeping on the singular cot in the cell to the door, and then back again. He’s glad that she’s asleep. He wasn’t sure that she would fall asleep, honestly.

He leans over and tugs the thin blanket a little higher over her shoulders. The blanket won’t do much to keep the cold out, it’s too thin, but it’s enough that she can sleep.

Three weeks ago the University of Theeds reached out to him, telling him that one of their Teachers had gone missing. They said to him that someone had broken into her home, torn the place to pieces, and taken her.

The University hired him to find her since he was something of an expert on finding people.

The fact that she’s alive is a damned miracle, in his opinion. After three weeks, statistics indicate that he should have found her in a ditch somewhere.

He’s never been so glad to be wrong in his life.

Still, the fact that they haven’t killed her suggests that they want something from her. Maze shifts so that he’s sitting on the cot beside her, tired of sitting on the ground.

He needs to think.

Why would someone want a University Professor?

Absently, Maze brushes a strand of hair off her face as he thinks about what he knows about her.

She’s young, barely brushing 25 years old. She’s an only child. Her mom died from heart disease when she was a child, her dad recently retired to a lake house. There’s no other family.

She’s single, and her only friends are people who work at the University with her. Honestly, it sounds like a lonely life to him, but according to her colleagues and friends, she’s seemed lonely or unhappy.

He can respect that.

Maze’s eyes snap to her face as she releases a quiet noise and shifts on the cot, seemingly to curl into his warmth while also opening her eyes. “You should go back to sleep, Professor. It’s early.” He says quietly.

She sighs and shakes her head, “No point. They’re going to be coming soon.” Slowly, she sits up and shifts so she’s able to press her face against his shoulder. 

“What do they want?” Maze asks, mentally kicking himself for not asking her earlier. But then, her injuries were pretty severe. It makes sense that he would put that aside.

“I’m a Bio-Engineer.” She replies tiredly, “They want me to tell them how to break into BioGen.”

“Why?”

“BioGen’s biggest thing is weaponizing viruses.”

Maze stiffens and his gaze snaps to her face, “BioWeapons are illegal. Even in the Empire.”

“They weaponize them so that they can try and develop cures for them. It’s all legal and above board.” She reassures, “Even in the Empire.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“A Tenured Professorship at the University of Theeds is a great honor, not to mention it pays very well.” She replies, “It made sense, career-wise.”

“Only there’s a lot less security at the University compared to a Biomedical facility.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, there is that.” She shifts her head slightly, “But this has never happened before. Ever. People leave BioGen all of the time.”

“And you’re the first one kidnapped?”

“That I know of.”

There are heavy footsteps from the hall and Maze shifts so that his body is shielding hers. The door slams open and three men step into the room.

They’re not big men, if Maze were to stand, he’d tower over them. It burns him up that he allowed men like them to capture him so he would be able to find the professor. 

“Professor,” One of the men stalks towards Maze, and he feels her shrink down behind him, “Come on, girl. Are we really going to do this? All you gotta do is give us the information, and then you’ll both go free.”

“Don’t lie. We all know that the moment she tells you what you want to know, you’ll kill her.” Maze growls out.

The man laughs, “Well, it’ll be a quick death, rather than this slow, dragged-out death.”

Behind him, the Professor trembles. 

“Is this all of you? Just three men?”

“We still caught you, clone.” One of the other men sneers, “Grab the Professor—”

The first man reaches to grab the Professor, only for Maze to move, swiftly breaking the man’s arm, and slamming his head against the wall, causing him to crumple to the floor.

“Get low, Professor.” Maze orders as he stands and advances on the two remaining men. He doesn’t wait to see if she’s following his direction, as he suddenly has two furious men to contend with.

Unfortunately for them, he’s an Alpha Class clone, and they’re unarmed.

The fight can’t even be called a proper fight. The two remaining kidnappers go down with several well-placed hits, and Maze tosses them into the cell while motioning for the Professor to join him.

“We’re leaving,” Maze says to the woman as he holds his hand out for her.

Nervously she nods and takes his hand, “Where are we going?”

“Well, it was the University who hired me.” Maze replies as he peeks into the hall, and then leads her out of the cell as soon as he notes that it’s safe.

“Um—”

Maze stops and looks at her, “What’s wrong?”

“Just…did they seem smart enough to come up with this on their own?”

Maze stares at her for a long time, and then he sighs, “No. They didn’t.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Alright, there must be something here to indicate who hired them. Follow me.”

Maze leads abruptly turns down a side hallway and leads her into a much larger room. There are computers, though they seem largely untouched. It looks like the kidnappers were more concerned with the games that were playing on the four holos lined up next to each other than the computers.

There are three couches, each other them surrounded by empty bottles and empty pizza boxes. 

“Well,” Maze notes as he steps around a pile of trash, “Criminal Genuises they are not.”

The Professor peers at a holo-board next to the couches, “It looks like they have a gambling problem.”

“Lucky for us. It means they probably didn’t delete anything.” Maze walks over to the computers, “Stay close, Professor.”

“Ah…Sorry.” She hurries to his side and peeks around him at the monitors.

Maze flashes a small smile at her and then focuses on the computers. “Hey, Professor?”

“Yes?”

“How’d they grab you?”

“I was heading home from a day of classes, and they ran me off the road.” She replies.

“You were driving yourself.”

“Yeah.”

“Does anyone know your route home?”

“I mean, there’s only one road off of the main campus,” She replies, “But I generally don’t know what route I’m taking home until I get in the car. It depends on the traffic and if I need to go grocery shopping.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone your plans for the evening when you were taken?” Maze asks as he scans something on the screen.

“No. No one.”

“It looks like our violent friends were hired by Levi Kelley. At least, that’s who paid them.”

“Levi Kelley?”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s the head of the Biology Department at the University. I thought you said the University hired you?”

“Yeah, the Dean hired me. This Levi person, is he your supervisor?”

“No. I mean, he thinks that he is, but we’re on the same level.”

“Are you friends?”

“I’ve always been a bit…ambivalent towards him. He’s a good teacher, but he’s kind of a terrible person. Racist, sexist, the whole shebang.” 

“And he works at a University?”

“He’s a very good teacher. But he lost his tenure last year.”

“For what?”

“Academic misconduct, according to the rumors.” She leans against his side, exhausted, “The only person who knows the truth would be the Dean.”

“So it’s revenge.” Maze murmurs, “Use you to get an incurable virus, and release it on the school. Did you tell them anything?”

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“They tortured you, Professor. No one would blame you if you did.”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t. I left Biogen two years ago, Maze. I don’t remember any passwords or door codes. And they removed my biometrics from their system on my last day. I swear it.”

“Okay.” Maze lightly pushes some of her hair out of her face, “So they need someone else, a current employee.”

“Yeah, it’s the only way to get inside.”

“Alright. Let’s get out of here and alert the authorities. And get you some medical attention.”

“Yes please.”

Maze lightly presses his hand against the small of her back, guiding her towards the door, “I have one more question, Professor.”

“Go ahead?”

“When my brothers and I were decanted, we were given enhanced aging.”

“Yes, it was the only way for the Kaminoans to get a viable army in 10 years.” She replies.

“Yeah, you think you can reverse it?”

“Reverse it?” She repeats, sounding more thoughtful than surprised. Maze watches as she absently scratches at a deep gash on her cheek, “I don’t know about reversing it,” She finally says, “but I might be able to cure it. With enough blood samples.”

“Really?”

“Well sure, it’s not that hard. It’s just gene manipulation.” She frowns at him thoughtfully, “Look, all the information I need is here,” she lightly taps his chest, “The more of your brothers I can get blood samples from, the easier it’ll be to make a cure.”

“Can you do it at the University while also teaching?”

“I mean, sure. But the University of Theeds is funded by the Emperor. I’m guessing you don’t want the Empire to know about it.”

“No, I don’t.” Maze replies.

She’s quiet for a moment, ��Find me a place to work, off of Naboo, and I can help you.”

“If you can cure this, I might just kiss you,” Maze says with a sly smile.

Her face heats and she won’t look at him, “Well, that seems a bit excessive,” She mumbles.

She squeaks when he lightly drapes his arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “No. It isn’t. Come on, Professor. Let’s get you safe.”

[etaleah]

Imagine being Gerald Robotnik. You love your granddaughter so much that you build an entire colony in space just for her so she can have a chance at life. You sanitize it, sterilize it, ensure nothing can get in and make her sick. You live up there with her, sacrificing everything you might have loved on Earth, and stay in the same isolated area for 16-ish years to ensure she’s taken care of. She’s so important to you that you work day and night to create a cure, but it’s so impossible that you have to risk destruction of the entire Earth by getting an alien involved because how else will you create a living being? And sure, it’s dangerous, but it can’t be helped. You love your granddaughter above all else, and you create this life form just for her. Then as a safeguard, you develop a cannon that can destroy the alien comet to ensure the planet she loves so much has at least some form of protection. All of this is long, hard, grueling work.

And then imagine she dies anyway. She dies because of your research. She dies because of your creation, the one that was supposed to save her. She dies because someone you trusted, someone you hired and brought into her life, tipped G.U.N. off about what was going on. She dies in a horrible, painful, agonizing way because you weren’t there to save her.

Imagine being Maria Robotnik. Knowing how hard Grandfather worked for you, how much he sacrificed and made happen for you, how you wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for him. And that means you can never complain. You’re not allowed to be resentful and bitter about being stuck in here, missing your childhood, feeling lonely, isolated, bored. You’re not allowed to be unhappy because how can you make Grandfather feel bad after everything he’s done for you? So you smile. And you tell him how grateful you are. And you hide how much you want to scream and cry and rage.

Imagine being Shadow and seeing all of this firsthand. And probably having so many emotions of your own but bottling them all up because Maria and the professor have enough to deal with.

[owl-falls-au-gravity-falls]

Inktober Challenge Day 29 - void | Día 29 - Vacio

IN ENGLISH

There was a time when Stanley wanted to die…

It's no surprise to anyone, since Stan spent many years hating his existence, wishing he hadn't existed, maybe then, Ford wouldn't hate him, he would be much better

Normally he felt empty, alone, isolated, he was used to not seeing himself as someone important

When Luz and Stan met, Stan began to appreciate his life

Eda, King and Luz loved him, that should be enough to stop feeling that way… Right?

No…

he couldn't stop feeling that emptiness in his chest… he still thought about dying, he didn't know exactly how or when, but it calmed him down to think that he was going to die someday...

But then Luz and Stan entered the Intermediate Realm, when Stan landed in the place, he felt like he was immediately sinking...

He thought he would be calm if he died, drowning wasn't one of his first options, but it didn't seem like such a bad option either…

Except that, no longer feeling the fear of drowning, of dying, being so close to seeing Ford again, that was what made him feel terrified…

Did he want to die or just stop feeling this emptiness?

...

In the void, in the void, in the void, in the void

In the void, in the void, in the void, in the void

In the void, in the void, the void, the void, void, void...

Baby

I'm spinnin' around the corner

It's tastin' kinda lonely

And my mind wants to control me

Ah-ah-ah, empty

There's rotten things left in me

Injected by society

No one here but me to judge me

Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow

I hate who I was before

I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow

Someone tell me if this is Hell

I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah

Tryna turn off the voices, the void ate me

Look at the mess I've done, there is nowhere to run, yeah

Holdin' a loaded gun, the void

Like a priest behind confession walls, I judge myself

Kneelin' on a metal grater

Bloody, like a body that has died, and it's myself

Tangled in my own intestines

I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah

Gotta escape the void

So strange

I'm tryin' to find the doorway

My eyes are starin' at me

And they seem so damn unhappy

C-c-c-collect

My fickle insecurities

And turn them into beauty

Alchemize the dark within me (ah)

Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow

I hate who I was before

I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow

Someone tell me if this is Hell

I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah

Tryna turn down the voices, the void ate me

Look at the mess I've done, there is nowhere to run, yeah

Holdin' a loaded gun, the void

Like a priest behind confession walls, I judge myself

Kneelin' on a metal grater

Bloody, like a body that has died, and it's myself

Tangled in my own intestines

I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah

Tryna turn down the voices, the void ate me

Look at the mess I've done, there is nowhere to run, yeah

Holdin' a loaded gun, the void...

EN ESPAÑOL

Hubo un tiempo en el que Stanley quería morir…

No es sorpresa para nadie, ya que Stan pasó muchos años odiando su existencia, deseando no haber existido, tal vez así, Ford no lo odiaria, el estaría mucho mejor

Normalmente se sentía vacío, solo, aislado, estaba acostumbrado a no verse como alguien importante

Cuando Luz y Stan se conocieron, Stan empezó a apreciar su vida

Eda, King y Luz lo querían, eso debería ser suficiente para dejar de sentirse así… ¿Verdad?

No… no dejaba de sentir ese vacío en su pecho… aún pensaba en morir, no sabia en concretó como ni cuando, Pero le tranquilizaba pensar en que iba a morir algún día

Pero entonces Luz y Stan entraron al Reino Intermedio, cuando Stan aterrizó en el lugar, sintió que de inmediato se hundía

Pensó que iba a estar tranquilo si moría, ahogarse no era una de sus primeras opciones, Pero tampoco parecía tan mala opción…

Excepto que, al ya no sentir el miedo de ahogarse, de morir, estando tan cerca de volver a ver a Ford, eso fue lo que lo hizo sentir aterrado…

¿Quería morir o solo dejar de sentir este vacío?

...

Baby...

Busco respuestas en mi...

Un laberinto sin fin

Dónde solo me tengo a mi...

Va-va-vacio...

Y con el alma herida...

La sociedad quería...

Que me odiara todavía...

“Para, ya no llores, que no lo soporto…”

Odiaba quien era yo…

Lloro, Porque no quiero vivir tan poco

¿Esto es el infierno? tal vez…Yo…

Debo escapar, me debo encontrar, yeah

Y las voces silenciar, o me destruiré…

Lo volví a arruinar, solo queda escapar, yeah

Y mi arma recargar, ¡Me voy!

Cómo a un sacerdote, iré a mi propia confesión

Rezando sobre un rallador…

Soy un cuerpo muerto lleno de sangre y temor…

El vacío me atrapó… yeah…

Debo escapar, me debo encontrar, yeah

Y las voces silenciar…

Entonces…

¿La salida donde es?

No encuentro nada más que…

Un vacío bajo mis pies…

D-d-destruire

Mis inseguridades…

Las convierto en mi poder

Debería atemorizarte… (aaah)

“Para, ya no llores, que no lo soporto…”

Odiaba quien era yo…

Lloro, Porque no quiero vivir tan poco

¿Esto es el infierno? tal vez…Yo…

Debo escapar, me debo encontrar, yeah

Y las voces silenciar, o me destruiré…

Lo volví a arruinar, solo queda escapar, yeah

Y mi arma recargar, ¡Me voy!

Cómo a un sacerdote, iré a mi propia confesión

Rezando sobre un rallador…

Soy un cuerpo muerto lleno de sangre y temor…

El vacío me atrapó… yeah…

Debo escapar, me debo encontrar, yeah

Y las voces silenciar…

Debo escapar, me debo encontrar, yeah

Y las voces silenciar, o me destruiré…

Lo volví a arruinar, solo queda escapar, yeah

Y mi arma recargar, ¡Me voy!

[altocat]

Not to be crass but in your Sephcanons does Sephiroth die a lonely virgin?

LMAO I mean he still dies alone. But as for the OTHER aspect, that really depends on who he's in a relationship with.

If SEPHGEN: Yes. They never communicate their mutual feelings for each other. Despite being soulmates, they are effectively doomed by the narrative, never to realize the depths of their shared love. Something beautiful and genuine corrupted by bitterness and jealousy.

If SEPHGEAL: No. He and Angeal are secret lovers, as Angeal was better at helping Sephiroth understand and express his emotions. He's Sephiroth's rock, the only thing keeping Sephiroth stable and comfortable with his increasingly miserable life. But it still meets an unhappy end as Angeal dies and Sephiroth never fully recovers.

If AGS: No. Angeal works as a mediator to help everyone come together. The three of them are lovers and it's an open secret within SOLDIER. While they are initially extremely passionate and committed to each other, Gen's degradation and the subsequent fallout causes a formerly unbreakable bond to shatter and fall apart.

Which one is the most dramatic to you? Pick your poison lol

[sauntervaguelydown]

in the past I've compared Naruto to Harry Potter in the general sense of being "underdog orphan stories about childhood power-fantasy". This is why they resonate so strongly, and why they burst out of their respective publishing niche: the audience that received them wanted these things. I'm not gonna talk about JK Rowling, she sucks, I'm just saying--the impact was disproportionate in both cases. The loneliness and unhappiness and the promise of transformative friendship resonated so strongly with readers that it created the foundation of a commercial empire.

But it seems like neither author could really let go of the desire to reaffirm the Goodness of the Family. Even though it's an orphan story about friendship and adventure and independence, you get these frustrating reiterations of Maternal goodness. Your mother is always looking out for you, even though she's dead, through the mystical connection forged when she died for you. You'll never really know her, but she was Good. I know you were lonely and miserable and abused, but you have never been alone.

I got very frustrated with Naruto when, after meeting the ghosts of his parents for the first time as a 15 year old, Naruto is told that he has "two powerful suns inside him" guiding him and giving him strength. It's just... I came here for an orphan story. I've watched this character build relationships, reach out to people, forge friendships, and build an identity all on his own for years. You can't really expect me to swallow the idea that now his dead parents he met for max 30 minutes are the most important thing in his life now?

Both series also eventually go down in flames with frustrating endings that focus on the nuclear family, lineage, and pairing up the mains. Interesting commonality.

I think this is why I appreciate Steven Universe more and more as time goes by. Finally, an uncomfortable interrogation of what it means to be alone with the dead--what it means to inherit a legacy from someone you will never truly know. How that can be a weight, how grief for a stranger can be not a strength but a chronic ache.

It's nice to tell someone they've never truly been alone. But what good does that do, when they are alone in every tangible way?