#i'm here to lose my marbles

[just-french-me-up]

"Will you be tempted by some straight-face smut reading tonight, m'am?"

"Actually I'll have some impromptu giggling with intense looking away from the screen with a side of undignified noises, please"

[lydiaas]

jiara: share a joint, out of focus and in the background me: this means they've been blissfully in love for 18 months and they live in a cute little shack close to the beach and the marina so kie can save turtles and jj can run his charters and in the evenings they surf and smoke and put pins on a map for the surf trip they're still planning

[number-1-blind]

[weeddennis]

huh. weird

[gemmahale]

There's a tiny part of me that's raging that I can't write a story without worldbuilding or plot or anything like that.

I started with the intent of making smutty hotness of my own desires. Instead I've ended up with a dozen worlds, each with their own fucking societies and traditions and season and shit.

All because I can't drop myself into a story - I have to have more than "what if - smut". It's always "how did they get there?"

And right now that feels like more trouble than it's worth.

[moongothic]

Also Lu feld ( the underworld emperor that funded MADS) looks veryyy similar to Crocodile, maybe there is a relationship between them both?

So Oda does have certain design tropes he likes to use, and so all his characters that fit into the "mob boss" archetype, including Capone Bege, all have similar design elements; a large coat over their shoulders (not exclusive to the mafia characters mind you), fine suits, cigars, expensive looking jewelry; they look very formal and they all even style their hair the same way (slicked back). So the similarities could be easily chacked up to Oda using the same design tropes for characters that fit into the same trope. If you look past those elements, the differences become more obvious

Like the facial anatomy etc between them all is quite different (Crocodile having Oda's default attractive male facial anatomy, compared to Lu Feld's bulbous, round shapes, while Bege has these triangular shapes to his face) along with body build etc etc

Reason I wanted to point this out is because I'm preeeetty sure I've seen people on Reddit speculate that Crocodile could be related to Lu Feld by blood, even be his son? And to be fair, this is One Piece, the characters don't need to look one-bit similar to one-another to be blood relatives, not by a long shot. And since we don't know how old Lu Feld is, theoretically sure, that could be possible.

But when all we're going off of is "they're both mafia bosses and dress kinda similar", I feel that theory is a bit weak, and more importantly, I'm not sure there's much of a point in it. As in, what would these two being related add to their characters? Like you could totally write an interesting story about them that could impact them both, but it's not like the two other famous theories (that Croc could be the son of WB or Xebec) where you almost immidiately understand the emotional baggage between the two (former Croc would have unknown beef with his bio-dad possibly related to him adopting so many sons while he's just there, the latter having once again questionable implications for Xebec's character but could immidiately shed light on Croc's beef with WB and his general trust issues).

Considdering Lu Feld is an Emperor of the Underworld though I would not be surprised if our beloved Mr Zero had purchased his Dance Powder from Lu Feld, maaaybe been involved with the underworld in other ways, who knows. But I personally don't believe Crocodile has deep ties to Lu Feld, I just think it's Oda giving a less important, borderline-background character a design with a few too many similarities to more important characters and not enough unique features--- but Lu Feld isn't that important, it's not like he needed a super unique design to communicate who and what he's supposed to be in the story

[paradoxgavel]

this whole week has just kinda felt like. i've been trying to cope by keeping myself distracted, cause. what the hell else can i do when i'm stuck in a situation with no way out until help arrives. so i'll just like. watch a show or something, and then something stressful will happen again irl, and i'll be too distressed to keep watching that thing bc now my brain's associating it with that stress, so i'll have to find something else to occupy me until the next stressful thing happens

[purgatoriius]

* // verse info: bleach.

full name: peruere de lune-cramoisie

aliases: arlecchino, "father"

age: physically 27-30, chronologically unknown

species: echt quincy

nationality: french

affiliation: house of the hearth (primary), the wandereich (schutzstaffel, secondary)

epithet: B - The Bloodfire

relatives: crucabena (adopted mother; deceased), clervie (adopted sister; deceased), lyney (adopted son; alive), lynette (adopted daughter; alive), freminet (adopted son; alive)

info on arlecchino's bleach verse will be given in the form of a Q&A/FAQ bullet format!

is her background in bleach the same in her source material?

yes, to a degree! raised in the house of the hearth by crucabena (who i headcanon to be the former sternritter K - The Knave) alongside her biological daughter clervie, both the young peruere and clervie grew close in their friendship up until they turned sixteen. clervie ultimately committed suicide by running herself through on peruere's sword in the middle of their duel, believing death was the only solution if she couldn't escape the orphanage and/or the wandereich. the loss of her only friend drove peruere to challenge crucabena directly, killing her and earning the attention of the king of quincies himself. her determination and desire to kill the knave and protect the surviving children of the house of the hearth earned her the schrift B for The Bloodfire.

how does she direct the house of the hearth? how involved is it with the wandereich nowadays?

much like in canon; unlike crucabena's ways of directing the orphanage, arlecchino is still strict on the rules of the hearth - however she's much more lenient in comparison to her predecessor. while she holds respect for her peers in the wandereich, she puts her children (the house of the hearth) first, and is more than willing to kill anyone that lays a hand on the children.

as for how the hearth is directed with arlecchino in charge, the children still learn how to train and fight, however duels to the death have been strictly prohibited since her taking over. some of the training and sparring matches now require teamwork and cooperation within a group of the children - this is used with the intent to help the children develop strong bonds with one another so they don't feel as lonely as they greow up in the orphanage.

the house of the hearth itself also acts as an orphanage on its own - children growing up in the house of the hearth can be adopted by another family, to which arlecchino gives the child the option to have their memories of the house erased by consuming a flame from her schrift. should they opt out of the memory erasure, they are welcome to return and visit the rest of their peers whenever they please. should they allow their memories of the hearth to be erased, arlecchino simply tells those who ask about the child that they have passed away.

how loyal is arlecchino to the wandereich? is it the same regarding the fatui and the tsaritsa?

arlecchino is barely loyal to the wandereich - almost the same level as with the fatui. she respects her peers, but she isn't blindly loyal like some of them are.

in fact, it's the exact same with yhwach in regards to how she sees the tsaritsa in her source material - should there ever come a time where arlecchino would ultimately turn her blade against the king of quincies, she would do so without hesitation - because to her, that is the highest honor she could ever bestow on somebody.

what is arlecchino's schrift, and how does it work? does she have a vollstandig?

arlecchino's schrift is essentially the same as her in-game "curse" - it allows her to summon flames using her own blood. she can bend the flames to her will and materialize the flames into weapons of her choosing, and she can use them to "burn away" - or erase - the memories of those who consume them. those incinerated by arlecchino's flames become afterimages, lingering on as memories living in the past until arlecchino herself formally allows them to move on.

as for her vollstandig, it's known as Schurke Gottes (Knave of God), it is essentially the same costume/design and abilities as shown in this cutscene (spoilers for "when the hearth-flame goes out"/the ignis purgatorius chapter!!!)

[monty-glasses-roxy]

What’s cool about Rebuild AU is that you can introduce Spike the Wet Floor Bot as an emotional support bot that becomes a little guy with feelings over time. Like, think about it! (Under a read more because I got carried away and yes this is relevant to the Roxy tag I promise)

Roxy has been unable to search the rubble due to a fault in her battery giving her massive power fluctuations that are fucking up all her other systems. Sunny finds a severely damaged Wet Floor Bot and brings it back for her to have something to entertain herself with instead of just organising stuff. She did always say she’d love to try and repair one of the little guys! Sunny hopes it will keep her distracted since they still haven’t found the Minis yet and she can’t search for them herself, and he promises to find anything and everything she needs for it.

So she fixes it. Slowly but surely. She puts her every waking hour into this, trying to ignore the hundreds of problems going on with her and the world around her. Monty gets repaired, promising to double down on the search for what she needs to be able to get out there too but she tells them not to bother. Just find the Minis, that’s the most important thing.

A few days later and the little Caution Bot powers back on, repaired to the best of Roxy’s current abilities. It remembers what happened. It watched as it’s whole world burned and caught glimpses of everyone else struggling to find a way out not cut off by the flames. It could understand then. That was an emergency programmed into it’s AI. It knows what a fire looks like...

But now one of the animatronics it’s seen almost every day of it’s life is talking to it, gently, softly, only to moderately chastise herself for it afterwards. It’s curious. It doesn’t understand as other animatronics come and go but she stays beside it. The animatronic is having difficulties but it can’t report them to the main office. There is no connection available. It will be fixed soon. It always is.

As days go on, it watches, unsure of what it should do with itself. There are no spills to warn people of here. There is no designated area to wait for one in. The charging station is turned off for the majority of the day. What else is it supposed to do but observe?

The animatronic never leaves. It never found that weird before. Maybe there is something wrong. It tries to report it to the main office. There is still no connection. Will it ever be fixed?

She seems so tired. She tinkers with machinery and spends so much time on the floor, asleep or not quite there yet. Her paws shake sometimes when she reaches to pat it on the head. Why does she do that? What does it mean?

She talks to it. She claws the walls and growls, snapping sharp words to the others or often just herself, but those claws never touch it and she always stops to talk to it. Sometimes she will talk for hours whilst sometimes she will just sit and stare into nothingness. It wonders whether it should approach her when she does that. Does she need help? Why doesn’t this happen when the others are here?

It receives what the animatronic – Roxanne Wolf – called an upgrade. She worked slowly on it, having to stop and rest her head against the wall for a while several times in the process. It wonders if this is how it was for the entirety of her time repairing it. She certainly wasn’t like this before the fire. The main office is still unreachable. When she’s done, it’s given a new range of motion. It’s neck feels much stronger than before and it’s head can now tilt and turn separate from it’s body. It liked this new upgrade. It had never seen the ceiling before. For the first time, it looks up into green eyes that used to be a deep gold. There’s something else different though. Emotions it can’t yet understand but it knows they aren’t negative. It wants to know what those emotions are. Maybe watching will help?

Roxanne Wolf shows the others the upgrades, tail swaying seemingly on its own. They pat it on the head. They tell it how wonderful it is. They tell Roxanne Wolf how amazing she is for her work. They tell it how cute it is. Montgomery Gator asks if she has given it a name yet. She tells them no. It doesn’t understand. It is Caution Sign No. 26675. Is that not it’s name? Why does the number feel wrong? Like it doesn’t belong? The words don’t sound like theirs. But why is that a problem? Why is there so much it doesn’t understand now?

They stop their compliments as Roxanne Wolf asks them for news about names it doesn’t recognise. It listens in closely, trying to work out why her voice always sounds so different when she says those words. The animatronics and the night guard shake their heads and tell her there is nothing. There is a difference again. Her mood has changed. They apologise to her. They tell her they’ll find them soon, or find what she needs so she can get out there with them too. It doesn’t want her to leave.

That thought stuck out in its mind. It doesn’t want her to leave. Please stay. Please don’t go.

Why would it feel this way? When did it start to feel anything on this level? The emotion is so strong it doesn’t know what to do. It has seen the others speak to each other, heard Roxanne Wolf talk about and cry through her troubles. But how does she do it? How can it do the same? How can it tell her?

It rolls up to her side as everyone settles down. She had instructed it to make sure to charge as she turned the charging station on, but it didn’t move away from her. She sits down in her usual spot in the corner, very close to the charging station. It stares at her, unsure what to do. She gazes right back with a tilt of her head and a raised brow. It bumps gently against her and searches every inch of it’s programming for something, anything that will help it tell her what it needs to say. A buzzing noise emanates from it. Small, stuttery, but with as much of this feeling it can possibly push into it. Roxanne’s ears perk up and her eyes go wide. She doesn’t speak, listening intently to the buzzing and the beeps as if it were all as clear as an empty glass to her.

Please don’t leave. It wants to say so desperately and it’s then it recognises something. An emotion in her eyes they’d never been able to read before.

It’s worry.

It realises with a start that this is the only time that she’s ever looked at it with worry. She watches the door sometimes, the worry growing on her face until she’s blinking back tears. She’s spoken to the others with her voice laced with worry about those four names she’s always asking for news on. She always seemed to worry about the Night Guard in particular when she swayed or when she spoke with her hands in her hair and her eyes to the floor. It must be a common emotion for her to feel, but why could she feel that towards it?

She patted it’s head again before holding the side of it’s face with a gentleness that didn’t match what it had seen her do with her claws before. She spoke softly, apologising that she wasn’t entirely sure what it was upset about but it must be important. Whatever it is it’s feeling, Roxanne says it’s okay. She’s here and she’s not leaving any time soon. She wraps an arm around it. A warmth floods it’s insides and the reassurance soothes it’s fears. Is this what she feels when Daycare Attendant Moon and Glamrock Chica The Chicken hugs her? Is that what this is? A hug? What does all of this mean?

It doesn’t want to leave. It stays in the embrace as long as it can before Roxanne smiles and nudges it to go and charge. For once, it wanted nothing more than to ignore the low battery alerts and to stay where it was. But she insisted, carefully guiding it with a paw back to it’s charging station before settling back down. This time, she’s right beside it, close enough for her tail to brush against its side. It’s not safe for her to do that while it charges. It doesn’t care. It has a feeling she doesn’t either.

The days go on and on. They’re different now. Roxanne – Roxy – has changed her routine. She curls up against it now when she sleeps during the day. She pats it on the head and praises it when it pushes things it thinks she needs towards her. When she cries, it bumps against her and she hugs it with her snout between it’s ears. She tells it she can’t wait to introduce her to the four who’s names she speaks so solemnly. The more it learns about them, the more it wants to meet them too. She cares so much about them, it wants to care about them too. It wonders if she will ever care about it as much as she does them.

They sit outside together one day. It has never been able to see the sky before. Everything is so bright and the breeze is an assault on it’s sensors. Roxy lays beside it and it wants to as well. It finds the nearest object on the ground, a rock it presumes, and runs over it at an angle. It doesn’t work the first or the second time but on the third, it’s on the floor. Barely a second passes before it’s view of the sky is eclipsed with Roxy’s face. The worry is back again, her voice full of alarm and concern. Her paws cradle the back of it’s head and she guides it back up onto it’s wheels. It gives a flat, irritated buzz and she seems confused. The moment she lets go, it tries again to tip itself. She catches it as it falls and it buzzes loudly, urging her to let it lay beside her. When she lays it down, resting it’s head on her arm, it buzzes happily and a small laugh escapes her. It’s an achievement to hear her laugh. It seems so hard for her to do, yet so easy for others from before the fire. She lays beside it and they watch the clouds go by for a while until it finds itself trapped in a hug. She’s asleep again before much longer. It tries to send a report to the main office that she is still in need of repairs. It doubts there even is a main office now.

Another week goes by. It buzzes so excitedly as Daycare Attendant Sunny and Montgomery Gator burst through the door with a large box held high above their heads. They’re finally going to repair Roxy! Now, maybe she won’t be so worried anymore! Maybe she won’t be so sad! Maybe she won’t be so frustrated! She seems just as eager for these repairs, but she still asks for news on those four names again. There is still no news. Maybe this will help her get the news she wants!

She is powered down as Daycare Attendant Moon replaces her battery with Night Guard Vanessa’s supervision. Tampering with animatronics is against the rules. It ignores the alerts to report it to the main office. It has seen the Mega Pizzaplex. There truly is no main office anymore. Instead of sending a report, it stays pressed against her side. It will always be by her side. She’s too important to leave.

When they’re done, she doesn’t wake. It’s told it will take a few hours before she does. So it waits. By her side. Never moving, never even thinking about leaving. It begins to buzz. A tune she had mournfully sang to herself a few times before. It had always been her favourite. When she wakes up, it’s to that same song. It sees her tail wag when her eyes land on it, a smile creeping across her face. She feels better she says. She feels awake and alive again. It buzzes in joy and relief, even as it struggles to keep up with her now. The others are just as happy for her, wrapping her in hugs and telling her how great it is to see her smile again. They tell her that now they’re all together, they’ll find those four names in no time. It hopes they’re right.

Exploring the ruins of their former home is difficult for it. Roxy flies over crumbling walls and mountains of debris with an ease it could never hope to replicate. She still stumbles, she still falls, and her body still trembles when she does too much but she has yet to power down out of the blue again. This is the longest it’s seen her awake since before the fire. She searches, digging through charred plushies and broken glass, desperation growing with each passing minute. She calls those names over and over, again and again and again. She still diligently clears a path for it to follow her. Despite the growing worry on her face, she never forgets it’s following her. It wonders if this is what it means to be cared for. It wonders, as it watches her weave around the many, many other Caution Bots just like it, if she sees it as any different to them at all.

It wonders what makes it different to the others of its kind. Does it look as damaged as they do? It’s noticed several patches of colourful metal it has isn’t shared with the others. Is that because Roxy repaired it? Is that because it’s different? Is this all that’s different? ... Does it want to be like the others? It was connected to them all once. They all thought in much the same way, all of their minds linked via a network that no longer exists. It didn’t remember any of the others feeling like this. It doesn’t want to ever lose these feelings. They’re too important now. It wants to be just like the animatronics that called it cute and pat it on the head.

Roxy grows tired much quicker than the others. Perhaps she still needs repairs. They have reached where Roxy Raceway once was. There was barely anything left. So much of it had sank below the ground they stood on. She was quiet, staring at what remained in silence. Was this place as important to her as the four she was searching for? It starts to buzz her favourite song, pressed against her leg in it’s best attempt at comforting her. She doesn’t react to it at first, and when it looks up, it sees she’s crying to herself again. It bleeps louder to gain her attention and she slowly looks down at it. It spins in a circle before pressing against her leg again, buzzing all the while. She kneels beside it and holds it tight to her chest. It feels the pain making her body quake with sobs and though she tries to stay quiet, it’s only a matter of time before DJ Music Man arrives to help it comfort her. When she finally calms, she doesn’t let go of it for a while longer. It hopes that means she knows how much it’s trying to care.

Roxy is quiet for a while after that. It bumps against her more and more, buzzing a little louder in the hopes it helps her through this. She pats its head with another weak smile. But then she calls it Bumblebee. It doesn’t understand. It buzzes in confusion but her attention is elsewhere. Her eyes light up with hope at something behind it and she nearly bowls it over by how fast she runs past to see whatever it is. She calls those names again, digging through a pile of melted childrens toys with an incredible burst of energy. It buzzes curiously as it catches something moving within the heap, Roxy quickly spotting it soon after. She pounces on it and after a few seconds, it sees her tail start to wag. She pulls a spider-like robot from the mess, followed by another, and another. A fourth soon follows, clearly on it’s last dredges of battery life. The tears are flowing so fast down her face and yet she’s smiling wider than it’s ever seen her smile before. She howls an alert to the others before bundling them up in her arms and rushing them back to the shed.

She’s fretting over them constantly. She works and works and works on them, pouring as much of her energy as she possibly can into them. It watches in fascination, curious as to what she’s doing but not understanding a word of what she says about it. She says their names, explaining the small, visual differences between each of them to everyone with such care and such detail that it wonders if she could do the same for it one day. If it was completely yellow like all the others of its kind, would she be able to tell which one it was? Maybe she would...

She had left them to charge now. There was nothing more she could do for them but wait. Roxy returned to her corner and offered an arm out to it for a hug. It accepted without any hesitation, having quickly become reliant on the comfort that washed over it every time they did this. She chuckled and once again called it Bumblebee. Her Bumblebee. Was that a name? Was it like her name? It craved that individuality. It wanted so badly to be seen as someone rather than just another Caution Bot. Would the four friends of Roxy’s see it like that? Would they see it as someone worth the time Roxy gave it? Did anyone else see it as someone worth all the attention at all? It buzzed and bleeped, trying to convey how it felt in a way that was similar to Roxy’s growls and barks, the language she rarely used around anyone but DJ Music Man. Did it even count as a language?

She listened, as she always did. She watched it nervously roll the length of the room a few times and hugged it close when it buzzed and bumped against her side. She didn’t always understand, but maybe this was one of the times she would. Roxy asked if it was nervous about her little friends. It buzzed in affirmation. She reassured that they were friendly, if a little shy and that they were sure to love it. She didn’t seem to understand this time. It’s attention fell to the door. But maybe it could show her what it meant.

Whilst clearly hesitant to leave her sleeping friends, she reluctantly followed it into the ruins of their former residence. It buzzed and beeped, pushing around a deactivated Caution Bot. She asked question after question, steadily getting closer and closer to the right answer until finally she seemed to understand. Roxy smirked and crossed her arms. There was nothing but confidence when she told it that no one could ever mistake it for anyone else. It was her little Bumblebee and everyone knows it! It learns then that Bumblebee is not a name. It wants a name. It wants an identity. It wants something other than Caution Bot No. 26675. Bumblebee felt so right, so perfect in ways it could never hope to describe but it knew it was only one piece of the puzzle. There had to be more!

Roxy hummed and it worried she hadn’t understood again. She was quiet, her head tilted thoughtfully to the left. After a while, she shifted her stance and her head tilted over to the right. Her eyes suddenly lit up in that telltale sign that inspiration had struck. She clapped her paws and bounced on her feet before rushing past and urging it to follow her. They picked through the remains of Rockstar Row where she forced the metal door to her former room open, pretending to hold it open for it as she waved it to go on in ahead of her with a smirk. It was a mess, just like everywhere else, but there was still some semblance of what it used to be. She warned it before lifting it up onto the ruined chair in front of the desk. The mirror was cracked and broken but still reflected perfectly fine. It stopped paying attention to what she was saying as it stared at the bot in the mirror.

It looked broken. It looked damaged. It looked... hurt. It looked like it once was but worse. Like all the others the fire touched that fateful night so long ago. It wasn’t sure what to think. Was that really what it looked like now? Beaten and broken, patched back up with mismatched scrap metal and peeling yellow paint? It... wasn’t what it had expected. But then, what had it expected to see? Roxy nuzzled the side of it’s head affectionately. Perfect she’d called it. Beautiful and unique. She was nothing but proud of it. That familiar warmth, the mix of comfort and something else flooded through it again at every kind word she spoke. In her eyes, it was nothing short of brilliance.

But maybe they could make it better. She was digging through charred draws, tail swishing gently as she pulled out what little had remained unscathed. She held a few items up to it, humming and ha’ing about what would be the best and holding random objects up in the mirror so it could see for itself what it would look like. A few of the things she found made it buzz with delight while others made it buzz so low it sounded like Roxy’s mean growls. It seemed to amuse her to no end before she gasped and pulled something new out of the draw. A spare, she’d said it was as she fastened a black, silver spiked bracelet around it’s neck. She still had one after the fire but she’d lost the other one. Maybe instead of her having it, it would look better on it?

It stayed quiet for a long moment. It sat like a huge collar around it’s neck, falling loosely around it, until Roxy found a way to shorten it more than it was supposed to be shortened. It saw the two of them, side by side, matching spiked collars and both looking a little worse for wear, and decided she was right. This was perfect. Roxy gave a toothy smile as its excitement grew. This is what it wanted! Something that set it apart from the other Caution Bots! Something that linked it to the one that had changed everything for it!

Spike she offered then. Spike the Bumblebee.

With a few tiny magnets on its ears and a few more suggestions, Spike the Bumblebee stared at herself in the mirror, right beside Roxy’s prideful smile and knew for certain, what all of those warm and fuzzy feelings were called.

What else could they be, but love.

[merevide]

confession i’ve been seeing this damn screenshot EVERYWHERE and every time i saw it i went ‘omg i can’t remember this scene did they cut it did they delete it. where is this from’ and i just remembered. 

[mythvoiced]

-. me: i'm so very normal about platonic ships @stillresolved 's Aeri: *gives a half-hearted swat to Hyun’s arm* me:

[abstractreign]

{ heya!!

now that i'm almost done with it, i'll go ahead and announce that what i've been working on these past few weeks, is a fic set within the setting of rp! speaking of which, i may need an extra pair of eyes pretty soon; someone to check for errors, and help me work out exactly what warnings are needed.

also: once i've finished and had a quick break, i'll be able to hop back into drafts! i'm hella excited, y'all!!

[sunnywalnut]

No but I'm still looking for the Denny's that is still in the middle of nowhere

having cis guy friends is so funny like youll ask if they wanna hang out and theyll send you to the dark woods

[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

[gojos-nightmare-box]

Everyday before i see people irl i am the embodiment of peak violence for real.

[watches-and-windchimes]

@unicornswilleatyourboobies this is the cock tower I was talking about the other day