#however you choose to view it

[vladdyissues]

Would Vlad and Danny be people of beaches, lakes or frozen rivers? I feel that it is clear that the beach is a very hot place, the lakes are usually large...And the frozen rivers I feel like you would be very Vlad-like along with a cup of coffee

What do you say?

Lakes are fine and rivers are lovely, but there's something almost spiritual about oceans (and my own personal love of them) that makes me want to say that both Vlad and Danny are ocean people. The open sky, the great expanse that can make a person feel so small and insignificant; the salt, the sand, the stars, billions and billions of them. The mixed themes of drowning depths and soaring space. How they mirror one another, the sky and the ocean. Blue to blue.

Oceans are powerful. They are the end of the journey; all things, rivers, streams, creeks, flow to them. They were here before the land. They are not locked in earth; they cannot be dammed or drained. They burn and seethe; they birth fire and cradle more mysteries than we can know. They they soothe and terrify; they carve down mountains and feed the world. They are life—and death. And I'm getting way too poetic. The ocean is a fantastic metaphor for many things, is what I'm trying to say.

And beaches don't always imply tropical weather, anon. Some of the most beautiful beaches in the world are in cold locations.

Here's Reynisfjara, Iceland:

And Diamond Beach, Iceland:

The Blue Lagoon, a geothermal spa, also in Iceland:

Glass Beach, Ussuri Bay, Russia:

The Pacific Northwest, USA:

Nallikari Beach, Finland

I can't think of a more invigorating image than Vlad and Danny, standing on a shore of black volcanic sand and bundled in warm coats, their hair tossed by the cold, salty wind, watching the sun rise over a frosty ocean while enjoying mugs of steaming coffee.

[thefandomchaos]

I’m so ready for the hellers to go after me for this. But what if the reason Castiel said “Is something I know I can’t have” is because Castiel knows in the end, Dean would choose Sam over him in a heartbeat-

[acracana]

I feel like I rarely see people talk about the inherent tragedy that is Gun and Daniel’s relationship—especially if you choose to view their relationship as fraternal/like brothers.

Because you have Daniel, a kind-hearted and genuinely good person, choose to see Gun, who is shown time and time again to be an arguably awful person, as an older brother figure.

And Daniel has shown strong dislike if not hatred for people he considers to be genuinely terrible people. He says it straight up to Eugene’s face when he betrays him, and he even falls to his knees when he finds out that he is related in Jinyeong (another truly awful person in Daniel’s eyes).

But Gun? Daniel knows he’s a terrible person (he knows this ever since Gun threatened his friends all the way back in the og Daniel vs Gun fight after the Hostel arc). Yet, when given the ability to fight him, he chose to try and talk to him—try to convince him to change and calls him “hyung”.

Now, we don’t fully understand why Daniel suddenly has this fraternal affection towards Gun. We don’t know the extent of what happend during his training besides for the small snippets ptj has shown, but it’s possible that Gun resonated with Daniel in a way that made him start viewing Gun as a respectable older brother. I mean, just comparing Gun to Daniel’s male relatives (his uncles and cousins), it’s no wonder that Daniel would look to Gun, his teacher, as a beacon of immense strength and respect as he spent more time with him ans getting to know him.

We don't fully know about Gun’s feelings towards Daniel. We know that he thinks Daniel is strong with a lot of potential (his masterpiece), but whether or not he views Daniel as a younger brother is unclear. He makes a face of disgust when Daniel tries to appeal to his emotions by calling him “Hyung”. Whether Gun just doesn’t see Daniel in that light or he doesn’t want to see Daniel in that way remains to be seen (give us more of them please ptj)

Narratively, ptj is setting up for an eventual final showdown between Gun and Daniel (probably when Daniel finally masters UI). Since Daniel is the MC, he’ll probably win, but not without an intense and emotional showdown between the two. Whether Daniel actually kills Gun is debatable, but Gun has some intense death flags in general so 🤷

[seenthisepisode]

i will say with my whole chest that i hate what is happening with music marketing right now. i hate that a song needs to be a tiktok trend. i hate that one album is being released in 23 ways to trick people into buying multiple albums because there are different covers and different photos inside. i hate that one album is being rereleased multiple times as deluxe and then the super deluxe and then super secret version with one additional song just to make the numbers!!!!!! i hate that people without vinyl players buy multiple vinyls of the same album just to own them and collect them. i know no one is making anyone buy multiple versions of the same fucking album by putting a gun to their head BUT COME ONNNNN its all about the money and people and just giving into that!!!!!!!!

[batteriesandflashlights]

come to think of it there was another poll i wanted to do. i already did this poll just with my followers but i wanna see a wider opinion (aka i'm putting this in the tags as its own post)

[aphverse-confessions]

i find people who include fantasy racism, sexism and homophobia in their rewrites for ‘added drama’ and ‘issues’ are extremely unoriginal and lacking creativity. if your go to conflict is always fascism just because you have no creativity to try and come up with anything else besides what you know and is obviously ingrained in your brain, you should sit down and think why your go to awnser is always fascism.

.

[subtextsays]

> Claims ‘censorship is bad’ when it’s about a bunch of shitty books written by a raging isalamophobe piece of shit

> Pinned post is whining about ‘psyops’ and saying they should be banned

Pick one you gormless centrist.

Wow this really is the piss on the poor website.

Since you won't believe me, a US library worker, here's how the American Library Association defines censorship:

What is Censorship?

Censorship is the suppression of ideas and information that some individuals, groups, or government officials find objectionable or dangerous. Would-be censors try to use the power of the state to impose their view of what is truthful and appropriate, or offensive and objectionable, on everyone else. Censors pressure public institutions, like libraries, to suppress and remove information they judge inappropriate or dangerous from public access, so that no one else has the chance to read or view the material and make up their own minds about it. The censor wants to prejudge materials for everyone. It is no more complicated than someone saying, “Don’t let anyone read this book, or buy that magazine, or view that film, because I object to it!”

FUCK CENSORSHIP

As for the @socialjusticeinamerica and the other 3 linked bot accounts, I want you to revisit my pinned post and point out where exactly you think you saw the word 'ban'. Because apparently you can't tell the difference between a call to challenge material in libraries and a post exposing the connection between disingenuous social media accounts.

[roaringroa]

hate when ppl talk about touko from bloom into you like she was pressuring yuu into having feelings for her when she was literally doing the opposite? she wanted yuu to NOT have feelings for her lmao

[beggars-opera]

Hi Tumblr Newbies,

The inevitable new influx of people means a roundup of folks talking about "we don't have an algorithm here," "you NEED to reblog things," etc. and I would just like to offer some actually helpful advice.

One of tumblr's best assets is that it offers you multiple algorithmic feeds, including not having one at all. If you are on mobile, you will notice a "following" tab, followed by a "for you" tab, which is algorithmically generated. "Following" only includes posts from people you follow, in reverse chronological order. That's it. The vast majority of tumblr users prefer it this way, as we predate algorithms.

If you are new and looking to expand what you're finding quickly, you can browse under the algorithmic feed and tweak it once you've followed a few blogs and liked a few things - under "settings," you can choose to have posts related to your likes, or the likes of people you follow.

However - again, most users on this website do not use the algorithm. It's for that reason that reblogging posts is of such importance here. Liking a post is an appreciated sign of goodwill, but for the majority of users, it will not boost the post. Many of use use likes just as a save folder.

So if you genuinely like something you see on here, I encourage you to reblog it, because that is the only way the post will continue to spread around. Almost everyone started their blog with a theme they were loathe to ruin with an unrelated reblog, but by now most of us are just streams of consciousness showing each other things we find funny or interesting, and if you view your blog the same way you will have a much more enjoyable experience.

[shomatoriashi]

02/06/25; 06:30pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you give them consent to make their fantasies come true with you ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: some of these were inspired by spicy fanart i’ve come across on twitter / x 🙂‍↕️

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

“care to repeat that, sweetie?” sylus’s gaze was filled with a fierce hunger he reserves only for you, hands already relinquishing its hold on the gun that he had just been polishing prior to you coming into his office.

your breathing comes out in ragged breaths, anticipation coursing through your very veins as you repeat your words to him, “i said… as a gift for you, you can do whatever you want to me.”

he stands up from his desk immediately, loosening the tie of his suit while taking quick strides towards you, “that’s what i thought, kitten.”

he takes a hold of your chin, pressing a searing kiss against your lips. as he could feel you melting into him, sylus slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him before carrying you towards the settee in his office.

he continues kissing you deeply, hands gripping at the front of your blouse before tearing the flimsy fabric off of you. you were about to whine about the loss of your favorite blouse, only to have your words swallowed by yet another searing kiss when sylus delves his large hands into the waistband of your skirt. your breathing hitches when you felt his fingertips linger against your clothed center, setting aside your panties to push a thick finger into your heat.

the sudden intrusion makes you cry out to the onychinus leader, your nails digging into the sofa’s armrest as the squelching sounds of your walls eagerly taking in sylus’s fingers echo throughout the office.

“hn, you’re already so wet for me, kitten. tell me, do you want it?”

you end up moving your cunt up and down his hand, giving him eager nods while begging him to fill you up with his cock. needing no further urging from you, sylus removes his thick fingers from your slick folds. you whimper at the sudden loss of him, however, you did not wait for long when you heard the sounds of shifting fabric before the tip of sylus’s cock was felt at your entrance.

with his powerful grip felt at your waist, sylus pulls you into his lap while sheathing himself inside of your slick walls in one, swift thrust. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, simply bouncing you up and down his cock with a smug grin on his face. as he works on using your cunt as his personal toy, you felt him lean in to whisper in your ear, “you know, i didn’t lock my office door. so anyone can barge in at any moment now, bearing witness to how you’re practically drooling on my cock.”

embarrassingly enough, sylus’s words succeed in making your walls clench further with need for him, doing your best to bite back your moans as you continued to bounce yourself on his cock with fervor.

zayne was in a middle of a conference call when you bounced yourself up and down his aching cock.

when you told zayne that you didn’t mind making his fantasies come true-

you were not expecting the professional doctor of akso hospital to go this far.

on the speaker of zayne’s office phone was a male colleague, giving a lecture about the new medications that just released for the treatment of heart failure. as his voice droned on and on, you forced yourself to keep your moans and soft mewls to a minimum, riding zayne with an eagerness you had never felt before.

this was such a new side to him, one that you hadn’t seen before. each time your moans got a little too loud, zayne would send a harsh smack! against your backside, giving you a look of disapproval while slowly attempting to remove his erection from your slick walls.

each time he tries to pull away from you, you would shake your head, your eyes pleading at him to give you another chance. zayne would frown at you, placing a single finger against his lips before slamming you back down on his cock. while zayne remained utterly unfazed, you nearly cried out at the sudden sensation, forcing yourself to remain quiet before continuing to ride him.

and even when you felt the embarrassment of potentially being heard on the other line, you couldn’t deny how hot zayne looked at the moment. his glasses were askew while his hair remained a mess from the sheer amount of times you had run your fingers through them. and despite his prior harshness to you, it was obvious that not even he could hold back his expression of pleasure, pursing his lips while he lay back in his seat, simply basking in the feel of your walls surrounding him as the lecture went on.

you swallow thickly when xavier’s eyes darkened after you told him he could do whatever he wanted to you tonight-

forcing you to take a step back when xavier pounces on you, hovering over you in bed as he picks up your hand to place a kiss at the back of them. “then forgive me, my starlight, since i won’t be so gentle with you anymore.”

giving him one last nod of consent, you gasp when xavier surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hands grip at your shirt, taking off your clothes in a rush as he left you utterly bare for him. his darkened gaze filled with lust was all you could see when he pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his erection before placing the tip of it on your lips.

“make me feel good.” xavier’s demand only serves to make the ache much more prominent between your legs, and you followed his command by leaning forward, allowing his cock to rest against your tongue for a brief moment before taking him in.

you move your head back and forth at a steady pace, basking in xavier’s grunts and moans of your name. while his hand was felt gripping at your head, you felt him ram his cock in and out of your mouth, setting a desperate pace that had you seeing stars. as you worked on lubricating his shaft with your saliva, you felt the familiar twitch inside of your mouth, all too ready to swallow what he had to offer when xavier pulls away from the confines of your mouth with a single pop!

“that’s enough…” he manages to stop himself from cumming in your mouth, hands now spreading your legs before settling himself between them. your breathing hitches when you felt his cock tracing at your folds for a brief moment before completely sheathing himself inside of you, making you cry out to him as he began to pump his cock within your heat, never once stopping until he was satisfied.

rafayel was all too eager to make his greatest fantasies come true with you, allowing you to step into his art studio as he haughtily demanded that you strip yourself of all your clothes.

“rafe, you want me to do what?”

“i think you heard me loud and clear, princess. i want you to take off every piece of clothing that you have, remain bare for me before settling yourself on my couch.”

with a sigh, you ran a hand across your hair before giving him a nod. you slowly take off your clothes, tossing them to the corner of rafayel’s studio. with each piece of fabric you had taken off, you felt the lemurian’s heated gaze on you, never once looking away as you felt the heat blossoming beneath your skin.

when you were finally left bare for him, rafayel takes a moment to admire your form, shaking his head while calling himself a lucky bastard. he gestures at you to lay back on the couch, “relax and look languid for me, princess.”

swallowing thickly, you give him a stiff nod before laying back on the couch, your arms spread comfortably across the pillows while feeling the cold air touching your breasts as it causes your nipples to harden in response. “perfect.” rafayel’s voice takes on a deeper tone when he grabs his sketchbook and charcoal, working on sketching your likeness.

a few minutes pass, and you could already detect the effect you were having on rafayel, seeing the noticeable tent against the front of his pants. the sight of his erection straining through his clothes makes your mouth water as a whimper escapes from your parted lips.

“rafayel… please. don’t make me wait for you any longer... i-i need you.”

his dilated eyes meet your gaze, and he could see the moisture pooling within your pretty little flower, seeing it clench with need for him. letting out a grunt of your name, rafayel tosses aside his sketchbook, taking quick strides towards you when he leans down to capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss.

just mere moments later, rafayel takes off the rest of his clothes before putting you in a mating press, allowing your legs to rest against his slender shoulders as he kept pounding his cock into you over and over again, the sounds of your walls eagerly taking him in reverberating throughout the studio as you succumbed to the pleasure he was giving you.

the moment you told your boyfriend he could do whatever he wanted to you within the comfort of your bed-

caleb wasted no time when he sheds off your clothes, leaving you naked for his eyes alone. a flash of satisfaction was seen in his gaze before he presses your naked body against the top of the mattress. you were given little time to react, head spinning slightly as you became achingly aware of the sounds of caleb hurriedly taking off the rest of his clothes, the sounds of shifting fabrics as he tosses them aside to the corner of the room.

you hear his heavy breathing and attempt to look back at him, only to feel his large hand pressing down against the small of your back. “not so fast, pipsqueak. you are going to remain in this position until i tell you to move.”

a shiver was felt running down your spine at the sound of the possessive edge in his voice. not wishing to upset him, you remain obedient, pressing the front of your body against the bed while resting your cheek against your comforter.

you wait with bated breath for his next move, suddenly feeling caleb’s heavy body pressing down on your back. his breathing was hot and heavy against your ears, feeling his teeth lightly biting down on your earlobe. you shiver at the sudden sensation, letting out a soft moan when you felt caleb spread your legs further for him, his cock brushing against your cunt from the back before completely sheathing himself within your heat.

his powerful biceps comes around your neck just then, keeping you in a headlock while he kept pounding himself in and out of you. the sensation of lightly being choked by him along with the thick feel of his cock sliding in and out of you at a rapid pace makes you see stars. you were certain that your eyes had hearts in them with how good your colonel was making you feel.

feeling the way your walls clenched oh so sweetly around his cock, caleb lets out an amused chuckle. tightening his biceps around your head while giving your hair a kiss, he whispers hedonistic praises to you in hopes of making you fall apart for him. “that’s my good girl, taking me in so well. i promise i’ll take you to heaven soon, baby.”

end notes: just another thirsty daydream to celebrate 2k followers (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[mrchoppedslefthand]

[SPOILERS] Homicipher Is Actually Romantic, Convince Me Otherwise [Analysis/Opinion] [SFW]

Word count: 3,332

Edit: 11/7/2024

[Feel free to skip to the last objective "Individual route discussion + what made it romantic" if you want to get straight to the point]

Homicipher is truthfully a romantic (or platonic) game. It is a game that has to be looked at from a different perspective when it comes to love/romance. A game where you have to take in consideration of the characters and the nature of their 'other world'. Today's post will discuss into what I believe made Homicipher an oddly, but romantic game, despite its shortcoming and abrupt ends.

⚠️[MAJOR LORE/CHARACTER ROUTE SPOILERS] ⚠️

Discussion Objectives:

Definition of Love & how it plays into Homicipher

The nature of the 'other world' and ghosts

Individual route discussion + what made it romantic (thoughts)

What Is Love & How Does It Play Into Homicipher?

Love has many layers of definition and associations. Maybe, that is why some may deem Homicipher to be "unromantic" and some disagree on that thought. It also varies based on the type of content/exposure you had consume in the category of love [whether romantic or platonic]. Socially, from a common standpoint, love is a strong attachment or affection for someone. Often from a social standpoint associated with dates, affection, and intimacy. However, love is always changing, since it is a social script on what its suppose to be, and changes as society progresses. Some notions stay the same but some begin to change (just like how language and certain concepts begin to change in the other world, a different society from our own). For the sake of a "true" definition of love. I will be using the definition offered by the Oxford Language Dictionary. So, what is love?

Love as a noun is...

"An intense feeling of deep affection"

"A great interest and pleasure in something"

"A person or thing that one loves"

Love as a verb is...

"Feel deep affection for (someone)"

"Like or enjoy very much"

Not long after its release there had been a fair number of comments/reviews criticizing Homicipher for its lack of romance. This claim is NOT entirely wrong. From the expectations of a "normal" Otome/dating sim it doesn't necessarily meet the requirements because of its lack of intimacy, affection and interest from a HUMAN/SOCIETAL perspective. We must remember that romance/love does not necessarily equate to kissing, hand holding, and intimacy especially considering that these are the HUMAN (societal) views on what romance/love is. A concept that had become lost in the 'other world'. So how can we call Homicipher romantic if we have to cross out the influence of our society? The answer is that we can't fully avoid it, HOWEVER, we must be open to a different perspective of what 'their' version of love is (platonic love/or romantic). No matter how lacking, dense, twisted and grotesque the moments we have spent with these ghosts are. In some shape and form it CAN equate itself to love (platonic/ or romantic). I think a lot of people forget that time itself can be equate to some complicated level of love. The fact you spend time with someone, and it develops to something further for worse or better, something that even love may not be able to name, is what this game demonstrates.

Homicipher has a consistent theme, the loss of truth, the acceptance of ignorance and the concept of eternity. Which shockingly is where the romance comes from. When we allow ourselves to rot in that world. When we ignore the exit and choose to stay, is where the romance comes through. Love is complicated. What can I say?

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

The Nature of the 'Other World' & Ghosts

Alot of the ghosts we encounter can be friendly, but also just as deadly. We hear it from almost all of the casts warning or discussing about how dangerous a lot of the ghosts (including themselves) roam in this world, and in different endings, succumb to this danger ourselves. The longer we stay in this world, we soon start to become no different. As we, a human, begin to slowly transform into a different entity. We begin to react more violently (though it can be argued that since our MC is a serial killer, she might have just been violent and cruel in general). When angered, or things start not to go her way, she gets filled with bloodlust and takes it out on who she's with. Killing is a common thing to do in this world, especially when experiencing anger, sadness and even boredom. The concept of death is a little complicated as they can easily regenerate themselves back to "life". As the game progresses, we learn that some of these ghosts cannot grasp certain concepts (such as love), remember their own name and self, and don't have exact words (sometimes none) for items.

When sometimes even confessing that you like some of the ghosts they question you, and state that they cannot understand you or that feeling (platonic/ or romantic). We are in a setting that is beyond the mortal realm, there aren't any exactly "ideal" dates in a place different from the moral realm... so you're going to be stuck in a scary place, having a scary "date".

However just because they cannot understand the concept of love, doesn't meant that they can't feel it. It is something that the body may still feel, and the mind not being able to put an identity to that feeling or even situation, since meanings and concepts get lost within this realm. The fact that we are allowed to spend an eternity in this realm, with our handsome casts of ghosts. Is oddly and sadly romantic. For Mr. Crawling it is his devotion and loyalty to you, it is how he worries and cares for you, it is his affection and attempts to soothe you. For Mr. Silvair it is his care for you (as research of course lol), your usefulness (which is why he is attracted to you), but even then, one of his endings he keeps you as a head, when you had become useless to him. For Mr. Gap he finds you intriguing, he wants to play and follow you around, always asking for parts of you with consent, loves to brag about himself to you. For Mr. Chopped it is his want to rely on you, to feel safe with you, to protect him, to spend time with him. For Mr. Hood it his willingness to help you for an eternity, to roam with you forever, keeping you away from danger. For Mr. Machete it is the fact you both spend an eternity searching for a home together, to suffer boredom together, to suffer within each other's presence. For Mr. Scarletella it is his obsession for you and his willingness to spend an eternity with you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Individual Routes + What Made Them Romantic

[Not in any particular order]

Mr. Crawling

If I had to rank who had the most "romantic" route overall, it would be Mr. Crawling. With the definition usage of love from the Oxford dictionary, verb and noun he checks all the list. Not only that, but we spend time with him the most out of all the other casts. He was the very first ghost we meet (briefly in the beginning) and got stuck with. We are like a baby bird imprinting on him because we saw him first and spent time with him the most, so of course we might feel the most attached to him compared to the others. As the game progresses Mr. Crawling doesn't fail to let us know that he cares for us and our safety warning us of the dangers that come and explaining how to navigate our way around danger. He expresses his worries when we disappeared. He seems to have some concept of love (platonic/ or romantic) as he admittedly tells us that he likes us and ask us if we like him. He expresses how he wants to follow and protect us. He also has so many cute scenes! Scenes where he pats our head, scenes where we lay together, chat a lot together. He is devoted and loyal to us, never harming us even once.

We even get a scene where he gets jealous when we called Mr. Chopped cute with the cat headband! So, he also makes an attempt to be cute too! We are always together with him, and that makes us BOTH happy. Although we don't have our traditional romantic dates like shopping, movie night. We get a bed scene and get to take him back home with us.

There are many types of romance. Platonic and romantic. You the reader/player is allowed to view it however you want. The game does not punish you for the lack of interactions with the casts. You just end up missing out on certain scenes/moments with them is all. However, for the sake of this post I will be making attempts to talk about the romantic aspect (but platonic romance can also be put into place).

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Silvair

lt's apparent that Mr. Silvair keeps us as research material and confines us in his lair. He is interested in our body, and also interested in returning our mind/intellect back to its original state. It is this interest in us that makes him "love" us. Does confinement and research count as love? Well...maybe not in terms of human definition but in the Mr. Silvair way, it's the closest thing you can get to romantic (or platonic). Afterall, the concept of love has become lost in this world.

I believe he still has some attachment to us, because in the ending A Head's Life, he still keeps you as a companion along with Mr. Chopped. He claims that you are no longer useful/capable but that it is okay, as long as danger is no longer here. When you choose to ask him why he did what he did and ask if he likes you, he tells you it was for research and that love is something he cannot understand. He also doesn't understand why you get so angry when he helped you return your intellect back. He still though has some sort of concept of empathy, because in his route when you choose to kill him and hide yourself away. He comes follow you and expresses that he's sorry and tells you a little about himself. He allows you free will, at this point, allowing you to leave him or stay with him.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Gap

Mr. Gap always wants a piece of us, literally. Why does he? Because it's just for fun. The most interaction we get with him is through the multiple crevices within this world and the short route he gets in chapter 4. He takes but sometimes may give. However, he doesn't fail to be thoughtful. It's hilarious how in chapter 4 when he offers us a crowbar in exchange for your heart, you can just smack him for it with no consequences. He also likes to brag about himself to you which honestly is a little cute. With his ending Return, we only have him left in the 'other world'. Our comfort lies with him, although he may be a little annoying, he is the only one we have left. We maybe have become a little codependent on him, but maybe he likes that?

God his annoyed/disgusted face is so hilarious, do it again Mr. Gap! He seems to stick around with us mainly just for funsies and being nosy, and honestly, he is so real for that. But it seems he likes to stay around with us at least. In the return end he is with us, and continues to stay lurking, perhaps watching over us until he is needed. Quite handy am I right? Haha.

He is depicted as quite the gentleman, but also just as fun and teasing. There are times where he does help you with no charge, such as barging into his hole (the face he makes in that scene is hilarious). Again, when presented with beating him for your crowbar, he gets a little upset but, honestly still helps you out. He probably thinks violence is funny which is why he constantly still teases you by asking to take away your body parts. It's just too fun!

Someone had brought up to my attention that Mr.Gap tends to ask for parts that can be easy to part with as we progress. Asking for our feet, legs, and fingers instead, when he seems to still clearly prefer the heart over the other parts. He adjusts his request when he realizes we won’t give our heart.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Chopped

Mr. Chopped is just a head; how can he possibly be or have anything romantic? Well, not necessarily to the level of Mr. Crawling but, we get to have a few small moments with him and spend some time with him. Since he is just a head, he can't help but need to rely on others. Of course, he has to be selectively about it because falling in the wrong hands devastates him.

Mr. Chopped when he gets forced into playing with the deer child, he seems happy to see a familiar face and calls us out to help him. Our poor baby was in trouble!

His ending head hunt is tragically sad but also bittersweet. MC cares so much about Mr. Chopped that she spends an eternity as an entity searching for a lost head, searching for Mr. Chopped who she failed to rescue.

During his own special route Mr. Chopped does his best to help us, but there is only so much a head can do. To make up for his lack of body though, he seems to be more expressive with his mouth and emotions. We get to take him to get a haircut and wash his hair. This seems pretty date like to me. Although our time was abrupt and short with Mr. Chopped. It makes me happy that we get this small, cute scene with him, which makes him much more lovable.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Hood

Mr. Hood protects you from harm, and also heeds your commands. He also carries you around. He means no harm and is there to guide. He cares for your safety and seems to dislike anything dangerous or threatening towards him and others that he protects.

At the end of his route, he states how often you get in danger and takes you with him, telling you that he must protect you since you asked him to (referring to an earlier scenario when you asked him to stay with you, when you reunited with Mr. Crawling and the others, but he leaves). So I would assume he would always be by your side now eternally staying together and protecting you from danger when needed. How cute! Some people are into that. But personally, for me Mr. Hood felt more like a father/brother to me. Maybe it was because he was always willing to guide us? But some people are into the brotherly/fatherly type of men, and hey I don't judge.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Machete

At first, I did not see the appeal to Mr. Machete, he seemed like a ghost that killed for boredom and most of the time we just followed him around aimlessly...WELL, after playing his route and letting it soak in my brain. That is entirely the whole point of his character. He is a ghost that had become bored because he had too much time on his hands and continues to search for his home. He is our tsundere dummy macho ghost, and honestly, I love that about him. He could've killed us again like how he tried earlier, but after that first attempt, he reluctantly allows us to follow him. It's funny how much he runs away if the odds are against him, and when he mocks us it's even more hilarious. Mr. Machete likes us if we are strong opponent for him, he even expresses that he thinks we are fun and likes us when we defeat Mr. Hugeface on our own.

Not going to lie, I fell for Mr. Machete right here. We were low on blood, and he just slices his hand, FEEDING us HIS BLOOD. Like OMG that was so hot, he opens our mouth forceful, and we drink his blood. He somewhat cares about us, to be doing all of that for us. After that we get a timed choice to stall or follow him. When you choose to stall he pauses with you and asks if you're okay and to catch up with him. For someone who had been reluctant and annoyed at us for following him, took a moment of his time to wait for you. He WANTED you to tag along with him. We then venture on with him aimlessly searching for his and our home. Torturing each other with our presences. But maybe, just maybe, they can slowly become that home together that they were searching for.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:··:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

Mr. Scarletella

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. At first, he appears to be just any ghost that wants to attack us. It took me a while to warm up to him because of so little we knew about him. I thought he wanted to take our name for fun/or collection, but then it's revealed that he knows us. That he harbors some sort of love and obsession for us and believes that we love him because of all the blood and bodies we "offered" him. In a twisted way, this situation is a cute and romantic misunderstanding. Mr. Scarletella fell in love with us for providing him many blood and bodies. He wants us to spend an eternity with him. He WANTS to spend an eternity with us. He invites us to this other world because perhaps he wants us to become a ghostly being just like him, or maybe he wants to have easier access to us (since his myth that he only appears on rainy days) to meet us. Although we didn't get to have as many interactions with him, that is what makes this love toxic. It is a parasocial love, he fell in love with us from afar. When you piece everything together with your dictionary the words he proposes to you sound like wedding vows when you give your name to him. Which make it all so more lovely, even if he takes our soul away.

(My translation/interpretation of the scene, where he asks for your name)

Chapter 2, Scene 24

Scarletella: "You found your name...?"

Scarletella: "Teach me your name." (ARF ARF WRARF)

Scarletella: "I want you." (YES PLEASE)

Scarletella: "Will you give your name?" (OF COURSE)

Scarletella: "Your name?" (👁️👄👁️)

*You give him your name here*

Scarletella: "I have your name."

Scarletella: "I have obtained you." (YES YOU DID, COME TAKE ME)

Scarletella: "Let's leave together." (ARF ARF WRARFFFFFFFF)

Scarletella: "I love you"

Scarletella: "And you love me."

Scarletella: "You gave it to me...Thank you" (I'LL GIVE YOU IT ALL)

Scarletella: "Forever/eternally together..." (YES SIR)

Scarletella: "Together." (ARF ARF WRARRF ARFA)

He is quite the romancer hehe. It seems like Mr. Scarletella has some form of concept when it comes to love, which is to be together forever, even if you end up as a blood pool. Together is together.

I find it interesting how his two endings: Scarletella and Scarlet Rain parallels each other so well. In the Scarletella ending, we (mc unknowingly) give our consent to being together forever with Mr. Scarletella, but we are still alive. When MC wakes up, she sees a clear umbrella on the floor and picks it up. I believe that we have now embodied or spirited the umbrella, spending eternity with Mr. Scarletella. He owns us now.

However, in the Scarlet Rain end he becomes ours, the umbrella stays red, and we still, eternally are together forever.

[szasfuckingwife]

Simon Riley who sits on the back porch of his esteemed house, looking at how far he has come. His wife is playing with his three girls in the garden, the sun glistening beautifully on them as they get into a water fight.

He sighs, this won’t last long. Even though he’s hung up his boots and his array of medals are hung on the corridor wall to prove his loyalty to his country, John Price had just called him to ask if he was up for one more mission. Price knew he was asking a lot especially due to everything their task force went through.

But Simon didn’t say no. Well, he didn’t say yes either. He doesn’t know what to choose. It’d be selfish to pick going back to the task force, especially considering all those sleepless nights you and the kids had. There were times Simon looked and behaved like a whole different person. All you wanted was for him to be safe.

However, it’s his country. Simon always remembers how he’d have this strange inkling every time he was in a mission that he was ‘meant to do this’.

Maybe it was the fact that military lifestyle is all he knows and he has a co-dependent relationship with it. Maybe he loves the recklessness of the guns and the violence.

He’ll never know.

He hasn’t told you about the call either, deeming that it’d ruin the summer break. He wonders how much it’d break his daughters’ hearts. They love him so much, they never want him to leave.

But for now, he’ll enjoy this view. Seeing all his girls laugh and be happy. With a cold beer in hand and the sun blinding him, he has to enjoy these little moments. Because it might be his last.

[navybrat817]

For your consideration:

Imagine Bucky, the strong and dangerous and stern super soldier that by all accounts is terrifying as an opponent, being unable to stop himself from coming in his pants because of you. Maybe you don't even have to touch him; he gets so lost in the taste of you that he has to start grinding against the mattress, and accidentally comes when you do.

I've had this image in my head for days and had to share it somewhere, sorry 🫠

Nonnie, I love this so much. 🫠

Feral

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets a little feral now and then.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky gets in a feral mood every now and then. He may let you know with a text that simply says, “Be ready.” and other days he won't give you a warning at all. By the time you hear his deep growl or see his pupils so blown that the blue irises nearly disappear you know you aren't leaving the bed for the next day. Or two.

Today you don't even hear him coming.

You’re in the middle of a shower when he suddenly shoves the curtain aside, and you’re lucky you don't have a heart attack or slip and fall. A shriek still leaves your mouth when you lock eyes with the ex-assassin and you see the blown pupils, and you're about to have a heart attack for a completely different reason. You hope your schedule is clear because you know he’s going to thoroughly ruin you and you’d rather not try to pull yourself back together for a while.

“Bed. Now.” His growl should make you move, but you’re still under the water and trapped by his massive body.

You don't move around him fast enough and he doesn't care that his clothes get wet when he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder. All he cares about is making you wet. At least he has the good sense to shut the water off before carrying you away. He’s thoughtful like that.

He drops you unceremoniously on the bed, the comforter now soaked as well thanks to your dripping wet body. Removing his shirt and tossing it aside, you get a moment to take in the view of Bucky Barnes looking at you like a man starved. He’s a beautiful canvas of muscles and scars, yet he looks at you like you're a real work of art. You wordlessly spread your legs and invite him to feast on what belongs to him. It would've been rude to keep him from his meal and you weren't cruel.

Not to mention no past lover can ever live up to how Bucky Barnes eats pussy.

He drops to his knees and pushes your legs open more, licking his lips as gazes at your twitching hole on display. He brushes some of the hair from his face to get a better look, and it only makes him look more wild. Untamed. It doesn't take much for him to arouse you, but the way he growls at the sight of you has you feeling like a goddess. You’re on your back, but he’s on his knees ready to worship and you’ll gladly accept his offerings. However he chooses to give them to you.

“I know you’re starving, Bucky. So eat,” you finally tell him, wanting him to have his fill. Whatever puts him in this mood, you’ll go along for the ride.

But before he dips down to feast, he moves up your body like a sleek cat and fastens his mouth to yours. He won't take from you without at least one kiss. You moan low as you kiss him back and feel him grind against you. It surprises you that he still has his pants on, but he’s getting rid of them soon enough.

You can't help but touch one of the scars near his shoulder, making him gasp into your mouth. He’s so strong. So powerful. Life dragged him through hell and he didn't escape unscathed, but he survived.

“Mine,” he murmurs so softly you almost miss it as he kisses down your body. Every kiss is a reminder of who you belong to. You’ll always be his.

“Yours,” you gasp when his nose nudges your clit and he inhales deeply. You remember when the smell of your arousal used to embarrass you, and now you wonder why it ever bothered you since he loves it so much. His metal fingers part your folds and he drags his tongue along your slit with a hum, lapping up your wetness. “Fuck…” you whimper, bringing a hand up to play with your breast.

“Not yet,” he growls, pushing his tongue deep inside.

Your free hand flies to his head and you choke on a moan as you clench around him. If he was speaking more, he’d tell you how beautifully bittersweet you taste, how your pussy is made for him, how desperate you are for him to fuck you with his cock, how you're all he needs. A mix of praise, profanity, filth, and love. Hearing him growl and grunt as he feasts tells you more than enough.

“So good,” he grunts between licks, his flesh hand digging into your shaking thigh when he slips two metal fingers in. You recall gushing all over the metal the first time he made his arm vibrate. He likes having the scent of your arousal on the metal, almost as much as he likes having it on the fingers of his right hand.

You lift your head when you hear shuffling on the bed, your eyes wide when you see his hips rise and dip. You’re all too familiar with that motion. “Bucky… are you…”

“Pussy’s so fucking good. I can't… I can’t stop,” he groans, rolling his hips like he can't stop himself from humping the bed because of how good you taste. “‘m so fucking hard for you.”

Your man’s cock can be sensitive some days. Grinding against him can make him get off in his pants. You went down on him once and just the feeling of your breath against his shaft had him shooting off before you wrapped your mouth around him. And with his rebound rate, you never have to worry if he gets off before you because he’ll still take care of you.

“That’s so hot,” you admit, your mouth falling open when he moves his fingers and tongue in time with his hips. “It’s okay, big boy. Make a mess in your pants for me,” you beg, wanting him to get off to you.

His growl has a bit of a whine to it when he looks up at you, his lips and chin glistening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, your fingers carding through his hair again. You don't want him to feel embarrassed.

He looks relieved. “Then make a mess on my face first,” he demands, dipping his head back down and making quick work of building your orgasm back up.

Pulling your hips down to meet his mouth, it isn't long before your orgasm tears through you. Your head nearly falls back as the tidal waves crash over you, but you keep it elevated enough to catch the stutter in his hips and the telltale husky moan against your sensitive hole. It almost triggers another orgasm watching him rut before he slumps against the bed like you.

Your head spins. Your heart pounds. And you smile. Bucky Barnes just came in his pants because you came. Yeah, you feel like a goddess and then some.

“You came in your pants for me,” you breathe. “That’s love.”

Your smile only widens when he pulls his mouth and fingers away to unbuckle his pants, your walls clenching when takes himself out. He’s large and thick as he strokes himself, and you can also see a bit of the evidence of him finishing in his pants. It gets you hot all over again, and now you need to make a mess around his cock while he finishes inside you. It’ll satisfy you both.

“Yeah, that is love,” he groans, brushing his thumb over the weeping tip. He still has a bit of the feral look in his eyes. “Now I need to fuck you with my cock at least twice before I eat again.”

Yeah, you’re in for a long and fun weekend.

I need him, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[diltonsstrangescience]

It gets META???

It’s so frustrating that so many people don’t know or realise that Jughead Jones is actually weird, he is a weirdo, and it’s not just because of that stupid hat - it’s because of the way he mines the real life tragedies of his friends and loved ones for his own personal gain, the fact that he’s died at least 4 times, that there is at minimum 3 of him and you could make an argument for there being 6, that only like 4 of the people he’s ever met have liked him and those 4 people do not include his parents, that he trapped his friends in a perpetual cycle of being 17 because he can’t move on or get over anything, that he was asked to film his high school’s production of Carrie and ended up filming a true crime documentary and that isn’t even half of the weird but true facts about my friend Jughead

[itsswritten]

Cauldron-born | Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word count: 4.1K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 1

A cackle pierced through you as Cressida  looked upon you with a devilish glint.

“You believe you are a witch?” Her tone caught you off guard. Her patronisation questioning everything you had ever held to be true. Surely you were? It was the only thing that made some sense. Your brows furrowed  tightly as you regarded the woman who had offered you shelter and refuge over the past few years.

Her laughing died down, her beautiful skin perfect by the ruins and spells she’d used for centuries, not displaying a single crease visible upon her flesh.

“Oh child what an easy life this would have been if we were more akin.”

~

You sat upright with a jolt, the murmuring of a dream— a memory whispering at the corners of your mind. Your heart swelling with the familiarity of someone you missed, despite her disposition, her cruel tone, that mean glint in her eye— you missed her. But as you felt the plush sheets beneath your body you knew you were no longer in the witches cottage at the corners of The Middle.

You had left that plagued land a while ago now.

A soft rap roused you from your thinking. The usual wake up call must have been the noise to stir you from your slumber in the first place, a familiar rumble of a tone behind the oak doors. 

“Come in,” you replied softly. Your feet swinging off the side of the bed, as you walked towards the large curtain that hung from the high ceilings to the dark obsidian floor beneath your feet.

It should have been cool to the touch under your toes, but the house had a magical way of ensuring your comfort— always.

You heard the bedroom door swing open, your back to the welcomed guest as your fingers dropped from the luxe curtain fabric you had just pulled, inviting the warmth of the morning sun into your rooms.

“Blessed be my morning star, did you sleep well?” A deep sing-song tone bellowed into the room, a playfulness dancing on his words.

You cringed under the greeting, choosing not to turn to show your disdain at his choice of greeting and nickname. The sun was only just rising, sending splintered beams of light across your bedroom floor and walls.

“Helion, must you greet me in such a way?” He could practically hear the way you rolled your eyes and cringed at his words. You hadn’t turned to him yet, your gaze settling on the tops of the city below that the curtains had just revealed.

The view from your bedroom had changed more frequently in recent years. No longer the welcomed view of your childhood— the farm fields you grew up in, the misty fog that covered the northern part of the continent that you had always found comfort in.

No longer the harsh winding forest, dark trees that looked more like creatures that lurked outside the witches cottage— Cressida’s home— if you could even call it a home. Her den, rooted in The Middle.

No longer the glistening golden rooftops of Day, the sparkling white walls that danced the sunlight off the buildings in a way that made the whole court shimmer.

Instead, the panes of glass showed three mountainous peaks, dusted with snow in the distance and a city below— Velaris, the city of starlight.

Or the city of slumber. You were not well acquainted with the routines of the Night court residents. Them usually rousing from sleep well later into the day. However it did make your mornings quieter.

The auras of people settled in sleep, their noise, their colours dimming as you watched the kaleidoscope of energy dance lazily along to rooftops. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t so loud.

You winced slightly at the sight, the lights and colours nudging on your mind. Poking and prodding a little harder than they had yesterday. It had been several days since Helion’s spell. A string of wryds to help contain your ability— dim it down, to subdue it, make it more bearable— but the spell was wearing thin.

Ever since that night—that fateful night where you almost left this world— your ability had been at a loss. Something that had always been as easy as breathing, as easy as a crisp night breeze filling your lungs, was now overwhelming and terrifying. If it wasn’t for Helion and his spell cleaving you're not even sure you’d still be here, in fact you’re certain it would have consumed you. 

As beautiful as the auras of the world were, if you couldn’t control it— it would be the death of you. 

“How are you feeling?” You had finally turned to Helion now, his question lingering in the air. 

How were you feeling? 

You could see, feel, taste Helion’s energy in front of you. A golden glow, so fitting for the High Lord of Day. It beamed within him like an orb of sunlight. You couldn’t touch it though, not like you used to, not like when you were a child and you used the naively play with creatures auras like a toy. Not like how Cressida had taught you to toy with people’s auras which was far from play.

That sense of control had broken, leaving jagged scars across your body to match.

Your hands, almost subconsciously went to touch the rugged scar that ran from your shoulder down to your torso. It tingled under your thoughts, but you pulled your hand back. Not allowing another moment to be wasted on what had happened and the marks it had left on you. 

That was why you needed Helion and his spells. He had a way of dimming it with his own power, making it easier for you to navigate your day-to-day without being utterly consumed by the noise and colours of everyone else.

“I feel okay actually,” you had responded, your eyes moving up to the lines on your friends face. He smiled softly at you.

“This is the longest you’ve been without us having to spell cleave, but today—“

“Today could be a noisy day,” you finished his sentence, understanding what he was implying.

Tody, you were to begin training with the Valkyries.

“Those priestesses are already a bundle of emotions when they pass you, I think resealing the spell would be wise. Amren agrees.” 

Well then, it wasn’t really up for debate. 

You cocked a brow at Helion before moving towards the table in your room. That was now adorned with breakfast, courtesy of the house of course. Helion folded his arms across his broad chest. He still wore the colours of Day, white and pristine, glittered in gold jewellery along his wrists, earrings bejewelled with sunlight themselves. Grand and beautiful, just like him. However he looked so out of place against the dark background of the Night interior. As ornate as the House of Wind was, Helion didn’t fit. 

No, he belonged among his own court, but the High Lord of day had left his court to accompany you. That in itself was such a large display of loyalty. You swallowed your guilt as you sat at the table, spreading butter across the warm toast and taking a bite. 

“But of course the decision is always yours to make y/n,” Helion spoke, his tone as warm as the butter melting upon your breakfast.

They only wanted what was best for you, you knew that. Reminded yourself in moments like these. But you couldn’t help the feelings that slipped up to the surface. Since you’d come to the Fae courts and discovered who you were—what you were. Every piece of guidance came with a weight you felt like you couldn’t refuse. 

You were the Mother’s daughter— Blessed be— you had status, respect, power— to do as you please, but that came with a responsibility that felt too heavy to bear. Every decision you made had to be considered, because it didn’t only affect you but the entire world and the peoples and creatures within it.

That meant, even if you wanted to try and push another day without the spell. See how far you could go as the spell thinned, you couldn’t risk it. As it wasn’t only you who it would endanger, but every living thing.

When Helion had found you— a shattered version of yourself— he’d spent the time piecing you back together. Perhaps out of duty to begin with, but somewhere along that journey a genuine friendship grew. However that would never negate from who you were, and what you were born to do— what your life’s duty was to be, and what he, what Amren, whatever everyone else on this island needed to do ensure you accomplished it.

“Let’s reseal the spell,” you muttered before taking another chomp of your toast, a softer look on your eyes this time. “…after breakfast.”

Helion smiled warmly, joining you at the table as he had done now every morning since he saved you.

~

The simmering of the fresh spell lingered on your skin, Helion’s magic coursing an invisible shield around you. The spell acting as a filter to the aura you were always so sensitive to.

The early days of his spells were always the nicest, at least they were nowadays. After building your tolerance back up with Helion, the first week of his spell usually lasted with minimal discomfort. He always had to be near though, his rooms were only down the hall to yours.

Sometimes your tolerance was less, or someone or some creature’s aura louder than usual that you needed him to reseal. It was why for the past year he’d essentially been attached to you at the hip, like a doting father or brother. And then there was Amren— doting wasn’t the word you would use. But she was always there too now. Out of duty of course, the way she’d collapsed down to her knees in your first encounter revealed how strongly her loyalty would lie to you.

Or lie to what you stood for.

Amren, the ancient one knew what your existence meant. Felt it in her bones, remembered the murmurings of stories and prophecies she listened to back in her own adolescent years. She knew what was coming, and knew how important it was that the Mother’s daughter had her ability under control.

So here you were, stood before Helion and Amren like a girl on her first day of school. Helion tightened one of the straps on the leathers you had been told to wear. He couldn’t attend the training class, only approved males were sanctioned so he would stay the floor below. In a waiting room. A handful of books already tucked under his arm.

“Stop fussing over the girl,” Amren snapped, her expression as hard as it always was. Despite her being utterly devoted to you and your protection, that dedication did not come with a slither of a smile.

You may have found her scary, if she didn’t remind you so much of someone you missed.

Helion gave you a knowing look before playfully winking at you. His large hands coming to squeeze your shoulders.

“How do you feel?” He asked, ignoring Amren at his side.

“The world is quiet once more,” you replied in a slightly chipper tone that garnered a smile from Helion.

He tapped the top of your head, “If we need to reseal, or something triggers it you leave right away, okay?”

You nodded in response along with a hum in agreement. This training was supposed to do the opposite of just that, however there were concerns. After the inner circle had barged their way into the Day Court a month ago, after Helion revealed who you were— a lot had changed.

Your belongings— which wasn’t very many— were packed up, along with you and Helion as you were practically shipped to the Night Court. You realised when you arrived how this had always been Helion’s intention. Why he’d taken the time to tell you the names of the Night Courts inner circle all those months ago. It was because they held significance in your journey.

The Night Court was safer, Velaris having an ancient spell that had protected it for so long. Amren was to teach you, she had knowledge that even Helion’s libraries didn’t share. There was Rhys too, with his mind and magic who was a crucial part to play in you regaining control of your power.

And now there were the Valkyries, who you were to train with.

~

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes dancing upon the still sleeping city. It was quieter now, thanks to Helion. No noise and colours probing into your mind.

It was peaceful, and yet so lonely. When you had full control of your ability, back when it felt like an extension of you. You could slip in and out of it with ease, danced with it, sung with it. Now, it felt like a headache that could only be dulled with Helion’s magic.

“It is the mind-stilling which is a priority in your training. I believe it could be key to you regaining control over your abilities. You will train with the Valkyrie’s everyday until you master it.” Amren spoke. You didn’t turn to look at her, your eyes still gazing onto the cityscape below. Your mind wandering to what the people below were up to, what they may have been dreaming of. Thinking back to a time when your life was much simpler, when the most daunting part of your week was whether one of the village boys would fancy you.

You stopped yourself there. Stopped yourself from indulging and reminiscing in the past. The continent was so far away now, as was that version of you.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You turned to Amren, concern evident in your tone. The sun kissing your face as your brows furrowed.

She was sat in the shade, back against the cool stone wall of the house, “It has to.”

A silence settled between you both. Amren was right, this had to work because Mother be damned if it didn’t.

~

Nesta cringed as she watched the priestesses fuss. She had told them to be on their best behaviour, but in the presence of a living deity the females couldn’t help themselves.

They blushed and whispered, giggled and muttered words of prayer, some even curtseying as soon as they stepped onto the rooftop. Rollings of ‘Blessed be’ harmonised from their tongues and even Gwyn’s eyes widened in the presence of you. The female looked ready to burst with excitement.

There was something about your presence that was otherworldly, not just in your beauty but in the way you moved among the earth spoke of grace. Nesta couldn’t believe her eyes when she had found out you’d grown up on the continent on a farm and then The Middle— with a witch! And yet there was a regality that existed within you that couldn’t be taught, it had just always been, you had been born with it, cauldron-born to be exact.

You stood in front of them all, your own embarrassment from the fuss evident in your averting gaze. Gently— with delicate grace— you bowed your head towards the priestesses, responding appropriately with a whispering “Blessed be,” which only seemed to elicit more noise from the females. Enough noise that it took you a beat to notice the gust of wind that blew across your face as a shadow blocked out the sun for a moment. With a thud two large Illyrian males landed in the middle of the rooftop balcony.

Helion’s spell had been working fine till now, not a whisper or a simmering of aura— till you saw him.

Felt him, scented him.

In a flurry of steps you found your back pressed against the railing on the rooftop. The very presence of someone causing your feet to stumble back, hands clutching the railing tightly in a blur of a moment. He was here. The very male you often found yourself dreaming of when your mind wasn’t caught in the past.

Azriel.

Amren had launched from her place, she had been watching you so closely that even just a tremor of difference she would notice. But it wasn’t just Amren who had stepped towards you, the Shadowsinger himself had taken several large strides since landing as if he’d also always been watching.

“Do I need to get Helion?” Amren asked with an urgency in her tone.

Your breaths were shallow, your gaze falling to your feet as you tried to focus. You had been caught off guard, in the silence of spell you hadn’t expected any noise at all. You hadn’t been affected by the lively group of priestesses, Nesta’s silver aura hadn’t been licking at your mind or even the thousands of people in the city below hadn’t affected you.

But him. He had triggered something, somehow.

Azriel looked upon you with a concern that felt heavy. Hesitant as he stood only a step behind Amren.

Had he startled you? When him and Cassian had landed? Azriel couldn’t deny he had rushed to this training session, after spending the month on a mission. Rhys had sent word that you were to begin training, and the swell in Azriel’s chest was enough to have Cassian trying to keep up to the Spymaster on their entire flight home.

Azriel’s eyes wandered over you, his shadows whispering their own concerns. They had noticed your nerves, just as he had noticed them during his first encounter with you. It was his job to notice the little things, his duty as spymaster to notice the things others couldn’t, but even he couldn’t explain why he felt so attuned to you.

The morning breeze gently blew across your face, pulling the pieces of hair that were loose from your braid. You had calmed yourself, calmed yourself enough to raise your head to the audience on the rooftop. He could see you now, fully, for the first time in a month, and Azriel forgot how to breathe.

Divine.

He thought it was his shadows that whispered it, but maybe it was his own thoughts too. You were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid his eyes on— angelic and saintly.

Divine was the only word for it.

Divine, divine, divine. His shadows sang.

“No, I am fine,” you finally replied to Amren. She looked at you sceptically, a look in her face that told you if you were lying then there would be hell to pay. You repeated yourself though, stepping away from the railing you had pressed yourself against.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet. Not after what he had just triggered, that tightness in your chest was new and overwhelming to say the least. It was different though, to the way auras usually felt that left you with confusion and questions to why the Shadowsinger felt, smelt, tasted so different to everyone else.

You were grateful for the male beside him who decided to speak. “Sorry we probably startled you, just dropping from the sky like that— we tend to do that sometimes.” It was Cassian who had spoken, a warmness in his tone that reminded you of Helion. There was a twinkle in his eye of light-heartedness that seemed to dissipate the unease that had settled among the group.

You offered him a soft smile that only seemed to spur him on. His tone bellowing as he outstretched his arms in introduction, “I’m Cassian, and this is—“

“Azriel,” you finished his sentence for him. Not being able to stop yourself from saying his name out loud. Not being able to stop yourself from finally looking at him.

“Right, Azriel. You’ve already met,” Cassian replied, a look in his eye as he glanced between his brother and you.

It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair how much lovelier he was than in your dreams— which you didn’t think could be possible. The handsome lines of his tanned face, the dark hair that fell in loose curls and those large wings that were tucked behind his back. Your eyes dragged across him, finally landing on his own gaze. How it brought you back to that first moment you met him—how he had trapped you in his gaze back in the courtyard of Day.

“And I’m Gwyn,” the words had practically burst from the red-headed female. Her deciding now was clearly the right time to introduce herself, not that you minded. In fact if she hadn’t you may have just stared at the Shadowsinger all day, “…and I think I can speak on behalf of us all, but it is truly an honour that you wish to train with us.”

There were some murmurings from the priestesses then, as if in agreement and even Cassian tipped his head in bow towards you.

There it was again, that weight you held. Crushing and terrifying, they put you an a pedestal, showered you with adoration you weren’t too sure you deserved. With subtle strain you forced a gentle smile onto your lips.

“The honour is all mine Gwyn,” and you meant it. The people on this balcony had earned that praise more than you ever had.

“She just said my name,” Gwyn whispered in disbelief to her friends, her cheeks going rosy at the recognition. Nesta simply rolled their eyes, Emery teasingly nudged Gwyn with her elbow.

But it was a sentiment Azriel was still stuck on too. You had said his name, knew his name— knew him. His name on your lips was like a song, a melody you serenaded him with. His shadows had felt it too, your recognition of their master causing a stir that had them wanting to reach out—which they would have if Azriel didn’t have them on such a tight leash. Azriel only tore his gaze from you when Amren spoke up.

“Enough about honour and names,” Amren snapped, her eyes not landing on you but the the two males who had just arrived. They understand her stare, her tone, the waft of her had as she strode back to her spot in the shade.

“Right let’s start ladies, find a space and we’ll begin with stretches,” Cassian commanded, his tone authoritative that had the females moving into motion. Even Azriel snapped himself from his thoughts, collecting himself as he stalked towards one side of the balcony.

You followed suit, following the motion of the other females and finding yourself in amongst the group to begin. You noticed though how Nesta had come to your left, Emery flanking your right, and Gwyn directly behind you. As if creating their own shield. Perhaps a statement to the swooning priestesses— regardless, you were appreciative.

Stretching began, and you copied Cassian’s movements in front of you. In sync with the other females around you. Moving your muscles in a way you hadn’t for a while, stretching the aches you didn’t know were there. Cassian stood in front of the group, bellowing whenever the stretch would change.

The movement was welcome though. You’d always had an active life. Growing up on a farm, tending to the crops and harvests had been your way. You weren’t new to the ache of a hard days work. Then you’d spent your time in The Middle, with Cressida who had an unrelenting method of training you.

“I’ve heard you’re not a novice?” Nesta asked you as the group was split in two. One side had been pulled to practice mind-stilling, the other, your group, had been given wooden staffs to practice more physical exercises.

You took the staff in your hand, curling your fingers around the rod. Nesta wasn’t referencing your past though. She was asking about your time in Day, you hummed in response with a nod. “I trained with Helion’s sentries for a few months,” it helped…for a while. Your progress had soon dropped off though, plateaued, which was why you were here. To see if the Valkyrie way of training would help in any way.

Nesta nodded in response, before tapping your staff twice with hers. “Show me then,” she moved into a defensive stance and your brow quirked.

It was a challenge, she had been the only one who had dared, the only person to treat you with some semblance or normalcy— and it made you smile.

a/n: well here is part 2, I’m sorry this has quite literally taken months to get this instalment live, so I really appreciate any of you who might still be around to read this! I do think this has the potential to be a slightly bigger series than I first anticipated, but I guess that’s my fault for giving our mc the coolest back story ever 😅 anyway enjoy my loves 🤍 - Lottie xx