#look how the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

[ftl-faster-than-life]

"And the greatest gift they ever gave me...was showing me what family was."

"Barry might be a nerd...but you are such a sap, Wally."

[ventique18]

I know there are some people who don't think Malleus and Silver have a sibling relationship. And that's fine because there was never any explicit statements in-game that says so. But from everything that happens in Book 7, I think that's pretty much what the writers and Yana intended: that they're brothers born from different parents but nourished by the same man. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Some people might say that they don't act like brothers, but not all siblings treat each other like what's commonly accepted. Malleus was already grown when Silver came to their lives, so it would be very hard for them to joke around as if they're siblings with two years of age difference between them. This is anecdotal, but I myself am the youngest of siblings, with the older one 15 years ahead of me. I don't joke around with them because when I developed my brain enough to think properly, they were already well past the rambunctious age. Our relationship has always been built on respect and seniority.

And that's how Malleus and Silver's relationship is. Silver looks up to Malleus and wants to reciprocate everything he's done for him, and Malleus still thinks of Silver as a baby he needs to protect. Maybe this is not ideal, and maybe this isn't the healthiest, but for all their faults they care deeply for each other. So much that they get mad on behalf of each other, they get jealous of each other, they would go to extreme lengths for each other. Like what siblings do. They just don't know how to express it properly, because there's an unspoken wall between them: the simple fact that they didn't come from the same womb. And this is exactly what Book 7 intends to address.

[planet-dusk]

Ghost!pirate!hongjoong who follows you around after you visited the museum his ship wreck ruins were being displayed at. He just follows you around and helps you when you need to, gets inside your dreams and eats you out till you have to get up but sometimes tells you stories about his crew and old times, who also really dislikes your bff who he sees as someone he should get rid off bc he just looks at you in a irritating way

He is just trying to protect you, dont try to stop him, you wont be able to anyways

🏷️ kim hongjoong x fem!reader. cw ; yandere!hongjoong, ghost!hongjoong, dub/noncon, somnophilia, oral (f), fingering, edging, possessive and other toxic yandere behavior ( 470 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

you're not sure where the pirate who keeps showing up in your dreams came from, but on some days you swear he almost feels real. you've got used to his presence (sometimes even looking forward to it) but even after all those months there's something about his lazy, calculating smile that makes your blood run cold.

at night you wake with his dark head of hair between your legs, tongue already parting your folds and your slick dripping down his chin. he never does anything more than that: eats you out until your legs are shaking, then disappears into thin air, leaving you aching and empty. no matter how much you beg his shining eyes never change, never give in.

you like the tales about his old crew (where are they now? he doesn't tell and you don't dare ask), and the way his face lights up when he talks about his members almost makes him look human. 8 makes one team. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. stories from another time, so vivid it's as if you're there with them. it's easy to get lost in him. you're going out less often these days, heading home after work as soon as you can because you know he might be waiting for you. his visits aren't limited to the nights any more, even though he's unreliable and flaky; sometimes he doesn't show up for days at a time, sometimes he stays with you for hours.

it only makes you more eager to stay home and wait for him. what if you go out and miss him? he might get angry again, it wouldn't be the first time, waking you with his fingers deep inside your cunt for seven nights straight — and removing them right before you could reach your peak. every time you fell asleep he'd wake you up, turning you into a begging mess. the dark circles under your eyes grew with each passing night. there was no point in fighting him; he'd pinned your hands above your head when you'd tried to relieve yourself, surprising strength in such a lithe body.

and on the seventh night, when he was finally satisfied with your sobs, he'd kissed you for the first time and told you the salt on your cheeks reminded him of the sea, his first love. he'd never thought he'd find someone as pretty as her until fate had brought you together.

"you're mine, and mine alone. don't you ever forget it." he'd reinforced his words by finally, finally letting the waves of sweet bliss overtake you.

slowly, hongjoong draws you away from your coworkers. your friends. your family. even your best friend. the only thing on your mind is him, the only one you need in life: your captain.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[merakiui]

thinking,,,,, a very deranged concept in which you and floyd are in love and jade is the (silently) jealous twin cast aside. no one knows jade stalks you from afar, that he silently slips inside your shared home with floyd, that he doesn't do anything outrageously rash. he just watches and admires, burning the sight of your sleeping form into his retinas. it's harmless, really. just a passing infatuation stage, surely.

he's been stalking you for years, though. so maybe it's more than that. jade's certain it's just because you're interesting. because no one has ever stayed with floyd for this long before. floyd always grows tired of his romantic partners. surely your and floyd's relationship is fleeting.

but then floyd proposes and you say yes. and suddenly jade can't be happy with just watching. suddenly jade has to confront the fact that his brother and his beloved are getting even closer. soon you'll start a family. soon you'll grow old together. soon he will be forgotten. just your friendly, always polite in-law. never anything more.

he was content to wait it out, to swoop in when you and floyd inevitably break up. but now that will never happen. jade, who has always gotten everything he's ever wanted, can't have the one thing he's craved for years. you are forever out of his reach, snug and secure in floyd's arms.

jade, who has always been so meticulous and level-headed, takes it upon himself to right this very egregious wrong.

when floyd goes missing, everyone is shocked because it's so sudden. there's just a messy note. some nonsense about how he needs a break, how he doesn't want anyone coming after him, how he'll be back soon. you're confused and distraught. did the family business catch up to him? some bad people who were after him... you don't want to think that way! he wouldn't just leave in the middle of your engagement. he had been so thrilled to plan the wedding, to look at venues, to think up a fun menu... if something was truly bothering him, he'd talk to you about it. right? right? at least, that's what you tell everyone who asks. you have no idea where he's gone. no one does.

suddenly, it's as if he never existed at all. there's no trace of floyd. no one's seen him or heard from him. no one knows where he's gone. and as time passes you begin to think that floyd might never come home.

jade plays the part of the grieving brother well. oh, he's sick with concern. that's his only brother! whatever he's going through, surely it doesn't warrant a disappearance. :( oh, this is just terrible... he just wants his brother to come home.

jade's a great actor. an outstanding mimic. no one knows of the journal he keeps, every page filled with endless scrawls. it's obsessive practice. jade practiced floyd's handwriting to perfection until it was an exact copy. and then there are the notes he's made on floyd's habits, distinctions between the two of them.

the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. jade thinks so when he welcomes you, broken, devastated you, into his arms. it will be okay. he's here for you. they'll find floyd one day. one day he'll come home. one day you'll get your dream wedding.

until then, jade can be your floyd. :)

[fortisseto]

I enjoy projecting onto different Falsettos characters like there is no tomorrow (within reason), but my most favourite thing to ponder is Jason's entire life up until we saw the story end!

- Kids who resent their parents tend to hate any and all associations with them (me), but Jason looks like Marvin. Acts like Marvin. Could grow into Marvin. That's a scary thought considering how Trina and Jason had been afraid of Marvin for so long, and he doesn't want to turn out like the asshole his father was or be in pain like his mother was. What do we do? Distance. Create distance. Don't look into the eyes you share with the monster, because that is where you will see the monster in its truth.

- Bouncing off of that, I wonder how many nights Marvin spent away where Trina would look at Jason and pretend to see Marvin sitting in that chair with just the attributes of his face. probablyyy the pain doubling down with the fact that she and Marvin made him together, so she has to see herself in him too. No matter what beautiful traits he takes from her, they won't seem as pretty in the moment.

- The way Whizzer serves as Jason's friend as well as his father's. Jason is very asocial and didn't make much of any friends, and this is something I mentioned in my fic, so I'll do it here- part of Jason's Immaturity, I feel, comes from seeing his parents as friends more than mother and father (to define "friend" and "parent," especially as an autistic person, is incredibly difficult). To Jason, Marvin is kind of like a pen-pal or a long distance relationship: there's still some kind of barrier between you no matter how "into" each other's lives you are. Jason is immature (obviously), so his perception is closer to "so why can't you just close the distance?" But, Jason doesn't want anything to do with his father once he tries waltzing back into his life when he didn't have anything else. I don't even exactly know what friend I'd define Trina as, but even including Mendel and Cordelia and Dr Charlotte, they all seem to be friends before they're much of anything else. That's because they're all strange as fucking hell

At like, ten/eleven years old, you shouldn't have a reason to think about it so large scale, but Jason was presented his affair with Whizzer at that time, and that will always be the age where one starts to question just about everything. That's what our formative years are for. Out of all social relationships, the one man he continuously chooses to be friends with is his father's own ex-lover. I sometimes wonder what makes Whizzer his best friend? Well, friends are chosen, not premade. However, as a ten year old boy, that isn't something you ponder. regardless, "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb" for a reason, and no matter how many friends Jason has, Whizzer was the first that wasn't made by his mother or father for him.

Long story short, stone me in the town square if I'm wrong. I should go rewatch Falsettos before I drown in the sea odnmy own obsession

[cocogum]

IDK if you brought it up.

But one thing I noticed is that in season 4 when Yugo, Amalia, and the Eliatrope goddess where together, his mother kind of (softly) physically got between them.

I think... Ep 2 or 3 (idk): when Yugo is watching Amalia mourn her father and wants to jump down and support her, she pulls him away. Though it was a good move, Amalia needed to be alone/with her brother. Ep 11: when Amalia calls out to Yugo and he looks at her and seemingly wants to go to her--the goddess turns him towards her. ...these are the only examples but they're there.

To me, I think it was to show blood-family vs found-family. His relationship with the Eliatrope goddess isn't even as close to deep as it is with Amalia, Percedal, Ruel, Alibert, and Eva. Even Yugo said it himself, he feels at home with Alibert (and his friends).

By the end when the goddess wanted to leave the planet with all of her eliatropes (Yugo included), Yugo chose to stay and fight with his found family.

As someone once said (before someone else twisted it), "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Just something that came to mind after rewatching the entire season in English sub.

(If you can, you can add the clips/GIFs) because IDK how to do that.

I love how you interpreted those scenes because that’s exactly what it was implying.

Back when Yugo wanted to intervene in Amalia’s private moment (yes it was episode 3), I didn’t think much about how the Eliatrope goddess had pushed him away from her because Amalia did deserve the privacy so it was normal for his mother to be like “your bae is in pain right now and it’s kinda your fault a bit for pulling her away from her dad so come here”.

But now that we’ve seen episode 11, yeah no it’s clear that she was only trying to cut off Yugo from the others.

Like the way she did it was so sudden too cuz she just ruined Yugo and Amalia’s reunion. The others had proper moments where see them reacting and conversing with Yugo when they realized he grew up (Ruel and the Percedal family).

But with Amalia, you can’t help but feel like it was going to go somewhere before it suddenly got cut short because his mother butt in. You can even see how her hair hides the others from Yugo! The only reason why Joris didn’t get cut off like the others was because he was standing on the opposite side.

Like I get that she’s supposed to not mind his friends (since she had no problem addressing them as ‘his friends’ at some point) but the Eliatrope goddess really reminds me of a clingy mother who can’t stop hogging her kids. And because of this bad habit of hers, we can also see how her relationships with her kids reflect their distinct dynamics with her:

Yugo is that one kid who wants to be independent but can’t do anything because his mother thinks he can’t survive without her.

Qilby is that one kid who’s greatly dependent on his mother to shower him with love and affection. He sees her as the only source of light in this world who can give him what he needs. A perfect mama’s boy that every needy mom wished to have.

Nora is that one kid who, just like Yugo, recognizes her mother’s flaws but instead tries to help her by shouldering all the responsibilities on herself. Being the voice of reason in the family, the balance.

Efrim is the one who knows his mother’s imperfections and hates her for it because he’s aware that she comes first before her children.

Adamaï is that one forgotten kid. That’s it. He doesn’t get some love as much as Yugo. And doesn’t get mentioned by his mother as much as Nora and Qilby.

She’s literally the embodiment of love but because of her flaw, she’s depicted as the wrong kind of love, the one that’s too clingy, too overprotective, too suffocating.

[wishcamper]

Cassian Appreciation Week Day 4: Lover

Continuing @cassianappreciationweek with an entry that explores Cassian's openness to love in its many packages. You can read it here or on ao3.

Thicker Than Water

In which Cassian loves his friends.. a lot.

CW: consensual sexual content, a moment of dubcon if you squint

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

“I thought being married would get us past the overfamiliar gifts, but I guess that was wishful thinking,” Nesta sighed, and Cassian cursed himself for the thousandth time for all the years he spent letting his guilt rule him.

The House’s warmth was a relief when it washed over his wings, and as he set Nesta down in the dining room it felt more like home than ever. She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the rack, and despite the time his stomach still swooped seeing the long column of her neck, her cheeks flushed from the wine and hours spent in the parlor of the river house.

Nesta, his wife, their third Solstice as mates since that night everything changed. Lucky didn’t even come close to how he felt having her in his life - it was a rare gift, one that he doubted even other mates experienced.

Which was why the present from Mor didn’t make him feel uncomfortable so much as sad. He worried about the ways his friend was struggling to move on, to find her place now their family had changed irrevocably.

Cassian sank into an armchair and chucked the silky undershorts into the hearth, watching the fabric curl and twist as the flames engulfed it. “I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe she’ll actually hear me this time.”

He’d told Nesta the story of their ill-fated one night stand ages ago, the fallout not just with Mor’s engagement but within their found family as well. He still looked back on the whole thing with shame, but Nesta was helping him shift that, to understand and make peace with the ways he’d been harmed, to discern what was and wasn’t his duty to bear.

“It’s not your fault,” she said as if reading his thoughts, coming behind his chair to drape herself over his shoulders. Her hair smelled of vanilla and cinnamon when she buried her face in his neck, voice thick with drink and drowsiness. “I can’t say it’s surprising, the way all of you are with each other. If I didn’t know, I’d assume you’d have been with at least one of them.”

“What does that mean?”

Cassian frowned as Nesta tapped a careful finger against her lips and moved to pour herself a nightcap, her words sounding measured when she finally spoke. “Your family is very.. charged. You talk about sex all the time, none of you were attached before my sisters and I came along. There’s just something not quite familial about it.”

“Hey now,” he began, but Nesta cut him off with a kiss, returning to perch herself in his lap. He drew his wings and arms around her habitually despite his offense, stealing a sip from her glass.

“Sorry love, I’ve no judgment for you. I’m certainly not innocent." She loosed the tie from his hair, her fingers soothing where they worked through the tangles he'd earned rolling on the floor with his nephew. "Besides, you’ve only slept with one of your family members, it could be worse.”

“Uh.. huh.”

“Cassian.”

He’d been distracted by the fullness of her hips in his hands, thinking of how he could persuade her to push sleep off for another hour or two. But now her words registered, igniting a nervousness low in his stomach. He flashed what he hoped was a lazy smile. “Yes, sweetheart?”

But he knew it didn’t work when her blue-gray eyes narrowed, scrutinizing, fixed him with a stare that would make lesser males cower. 

“You’re being shifty. What are you hiding?”

Damn the bond, damn her mind-reading power that would’ve seen through him without the direct connection to his fucking soul. His insides went all squirmy, knots of memory beginning to unravel.

“Okay, remember how we agreed to not hold our pasts against each other?”

“Cassian Archeron, tell me the truth right now.”

“Okay fine fine, just don’t - ow - don’t kill me until you’ve heard the whole thing.”

Nesta lowered the pillow from where she’d raised it to whack him a second time, her wintery eyes flashing in the firelight.

“Spill.”

—

They’d been stationed in the Illyrian mountains for four fucking months by now, whipping the newest recruits into shape, or trying to, anyhow. Rhys wanted everyone in top fighting shape after rumors of an armada preparing to sail from the continent, and though it was a worthy cause, being away from Velaris was starting to wear Cassian thin.

But if he was miserable, then Azriel was wretchedly depressed. He was as surly as Cassian had ever seen him, and even though it wasn’t abnormal the duration of this last bout was worrisome. For weeks he’d been trying to find a way past that thick wall of stoicism, but for all his jokes and ribbing and attempts at quiet company, Az only sunk further into a deep freeze. There was a kind of deadness in his eyes that Cassian had come to associate with loneliness, or else feeling unworthy of reaching out.

So he decided to offer up one of his own frustrations one frigid morning as they sparred in the deserted ring, hoping to draw the shadowsinger out by catching him when his body was most alive.

“I’m going out of my mind surrounded by males up here,” Cassian said after dodging a jab of Azriel’s elbow aimed straight for his chin. "I have no idea how those monks in Cesere do it."

Az scoffed. “No one warming your bed?”

“Fuck no. You?”

“Not really looking.”

The village close by was more liberal than most due to its status as a trading crossroads, and Cassian had found a bevy of eager and willing females in the earlier days of their assignment. But one had to be careful to avoid spreading themselves too far - Illyrians were famous for being incurable gossips as much as they were for their wings.

Still, it surprised him to hear Azriel wasn’t even trying. They both had healthy appetites, the spymaster’s at times more ravenous than even his own.

“Yeah, sure.” Cassian smirked as they circled each other, making a show of rolling his eyes enough that Az might take the bait. He did, spinning to sweep Cassian’s feet from beneath him, but it went less well than expected when Az pivoted at the last moment and boxed him about the ear with a closed fist, making it ring.

“I mean it.”

Azriel landed a kick to Cassian’s shoulder to emphasize the point. He felt the shadows start to twine up his arm and blasted them outward with the siphon on his gauntlet, his laughter coming out in great white puffs amidst the chill.

He loved that Az never held back when they sparred. Sometimes Cassian wondered if he was the only one Azriel felt comfortable going full tilt with, the only one beside Rhys who could take him and not break. Which was why his curiosity spiked hearing of the shadowsinger’s celibacy, wondering if that restraint appeared elsewhere.

“Why not?”

He saw the frozen ground inside Azriel begin to thaw, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he quickly schooled his expression into that blank mask once more. “Don’t do this.”

“No really, why? You’re a good-looking male.” Ducking, Cassian managed to grab Az around the neck, ruffling his hair with a clenched fist like the childhood bully that still lived within him, though there was something else inside it that he ignored . “Do you not know what you’re doing, Azzie?”

Azriel struggled against him, growling his displeasure at the accusation. “Of course I do.”

At last he wriggled free, shadows swarming waspish and angry about his wings, but that fire had returned to his eyes, replacing the cold hollowness. Cassian didn’t quite know what was happening, but a thrill passed through him that had nothing to do with their sparring. There was so much that powerful body was capable of, and he couldn’t help egging Az on as he kicked out at one of his legs, stoking the flames.

“Prove it.”

“Fuck you.”

The shadowsinger’s hair fell elegantly across his face despite the sweat, and Cassian was distracted watching the sway of it, his already loose tongue unraveling more by the second.

“Like you have the balls to. You can’t handle me.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Azriel wouldn’t be able to let a challenge go, that his competitive streak would win over his better judgment every time. And Cassian could admit to himself that a part of him wanted that, wanted to keep making Az flush with rage like that, and so the taunts kept flowing.

“I’d make you cry, pretty boy. I’d have you begging for mercy before I even touched you.”

The next time Azriel came at him there was no restraint, no checking his blows, and they grappled violently, nails scraping against leather, panting breaths heating the space between them. Color bloomed high in the shadowsinger's cheeks, too deep for the cold, the exhertion.

They’d shared many charged glances in the ring over the years, the dances of combat and desire so often a hair’s breadth away from each other. Cassian usually dismissed it as an unavoidable side effect of being close for so long, knowing Azriel’s quirks more than his own. But now something blazed behind each blow and snarl, white-hot and searing, spurring him on.

“And then I’d make you forget your own fucking name.” He rushed forward and tackled Az around the middle, crushing him into the ground. “The only one you’d remember would be mine, and I’d make you scream it over and over and -”

Shadows whipped around them, lashing at his face and arms. Cassian heard a snarl and then the world flipped and he was the one pinned to the ground, face smashed into the dirt with one of Azriel’s hands splayed across his cheek, scars rasping at his stubble.

Another thrill pulsed through him, more urgent than before as he thrashed to free himself, albeit half-heartedly. The shadowsinger paused, looking down between them.

“Cauldron, Cass, are you getting hard?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

But he already knew the answer, could feel the long, hard press of Azriel through his leathers, the erratic beat of the shadowsinger’s heart in time with his own. Cassian grinned as he looked up into Azriel’s expression twisted in fury and something more malleable, consumed by the turbulence in his eyes he knew matched his own.

“Fuck it.”

Azriel yanked him upward and their mouths crashed together, a tangle of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and shoulders, their bodies carving symbols in the dirt. It was all so absurd, so surreal that Cassian laughed against Azriel’s lips, causing the latter to bite down on his own.

“Bedroom,” Cassian panted when Az pulled back, and shadows whisked them away in an instant, his back landing on the soft down of a feather bed. Azriel was still straddling him, now ripping at the jacket of his leathers.

“Get this shit off.”

They both fumbled with buckles and clasps that usually took no thought, an indicator of the building fervor, the delirium that captured both of them in its wild, wanton fist. But when their lips met once more there was a tenderness to it that surprised Cassian, the grip of Azriel’s hand on his jaw lighter than it ought to be. 

An understanding passed between them, two people who had hurt others, had been hurt themselves, and didn’t make themselves vulnerable for just fucking anybody.

Cassian’s hand moved slowly to the laces of his pants, giving Az time to decide as he watched with heavy-lidded eyes, frozen ground replaced by smoldering embers.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Az’s tongue darted out to trace his lower lip. “Always.”

“Then put your hands on the headboard.”

—

“Things sort of devolved from there,” Cassian finished with a shrug. They’d stayed up all night, only to return to the training ring in the morning clear-headed and casual, as if nothing had happened. “We’ve shared females since then, but never just the two of us. I think we needed to get it out of our systems.”

Nesta had moved from his lap and draped herself across the chaise lounge while he talked, golden brown hair spilling across her shoulders as she removed the pins. She was looking at him now with a kind of hunger in her wintery eyes, one that said she was picturing herself as the female they shared. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You two are.. Close.”

“Alright you minx, reel it back in. I don’t know if I’m ready to share you yet.”

“If that’s all I think I can live with it. At least it wasn’t Rhysand,” she said airily as she stood, and he followed her down the hall like a bird chasing the breeze, borne forth by the power she held over him. His thoughts were all a jumble - he couldn’t lie, but he had to, but then she’d be pissed, but she might be more pissed by the truth.

By the time they reached their room, all he managed was a noise like a seagull being strangled, followed by a weak, “Well..”

Cassian bought himself time shucking off his boots and tucking them in the wardrobe, trying to temper the onslaught of memories, the edges fuzzy from liquor and time. When he summoned the courage to emerge Nesta was naked, which was great, but also glaring at him over one shoulder, blue-gray flashing like a stormy sea, which was decidedly less great. 

“Cassian. Are you kidding?”

He sighed, accepting his fate as he rid himself of his shirt and trousers. “Look, it was a long time ago, I was young and drunk and curious. Shit happens.”

Nesta gave a disdainful hm! and stepped down into their giant bathtub, a cruel swish of her hips for emphasis.

“So you just accidentally came on to both your best friends on separate occasions because shit happens.”

“Yes.” He splashed into the fragrant water with much less grace and wrapped her in his arms, drawing a shriek. “Only I didn’t start it this time.”

—

He was finally sitting down, mercifully, miraculously, at rest for one godsdamn moment.

The last month had been one of the most brutal of Cassian’s life, the constant drilling, the endless training as they prepared for war. Now that he’d collapsed like a sack of bones in the armchair before the fire, he didn’t know how he’d remained on his feet so long in the first place.

As if summoned by his weariness, Rhys strolled into the house a few moments later, Windhaven’s harsh winter air sneaking in behind him. Cassian ruffled his wings and shot a dark look over his shoulder, not even bothering with a greeting.

“Close the fucking door.”

“In a bad mood, darling?” Rhys drawled, the aristocratic glide of his voice grating on Cassian’s nerves as the lordling divested himself of his traveling cloak. “I’ve just the thing to soothe your troubled heart.”

He produced a bottle of deep purple mulberry moonshine, a delicacy of Spring. It was impossible to get with the embargo on the southern court, though Cassian suspected Rhys’ stupid blond friend probably had a hand in supplying it.

He ignored the spike of jealousy, ascribing it to the headache now pounding somewhere behind his eye, and accepted the proffered glass without another word.

They drained the bottle for the better part of the evening, talking shit and one-upping each other, the ease of conversation helping Cassian relax until he’d sunk low in his chair, legs splayed long across the floor. Azriel was gone on a mission for the High Lord, and so they enjoyed the rare time just the two of them, perhaps the last time for a while. They’d all be shipped off to their individual assignments soon, and though it wasn’t confirmed Cassian knew they’d be separated, far-flung across Prythian in a way they hadn’t been since the Blood Rite.

Which was why he’d been pissed when Rhys brought a female home last night, shattering the images he’d had of sharing a meal together, drinking before the fire just like this.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Rhys asked casually, and Cassian scowled at him as his cheeks heated in a way he hoped was camouflaged by the flush of alcohol.

He’d heard them fucking in the night, woken to the creak of the bedframe, hushed moans and whispers drifting over him like a warm breeze. Rhys was going down on her from the sound of it, and very successfully if the female’s growing abandon was anything to go by. Even in his mortification Cassian had let one of his hands edge lower, biting the pillow to muffle his own labored breaths.

The memory made his arousal flare even now, loosened as he was by booze and easy company. When he looked up Rhys was smirking at him, a daring twinkle in his inconstant violet eyes.

“If you’re reading my mind I’m going to throw your bed out the window.”

Rhys’ smirk deepened. “That’s fine. I’ll just climb in with you.”

“Like I’d let you within ten wingspans of my bed.”

“You seemed fairly open to it when you were touching yourself under the covers.”

Cassian tried to ignore the spike of wanting at the words, instead downing the rest of his glass before he set it on the table with feigned nonchalance. Rhys stood and circled around the back of his chair, and Cassian assumed he was going to retrieve another bottle until he felt strong hands begin to knead the muscle at his shoulder, where his wings connected to his back. That touch-starved part of him that never got enough affection sparked alive, that wanted to both shy away from the contact and lean into its promise desperately.

“I don’t mind, for the record. We both knew. And we both liked it,” Rhys assured him. A sharp pain tore through Cassian’s neck before he could answer, Rhys following the tendon with a gentle thumb. “Gods but you’re tense. You’ve worried yourself into knots, darling.”

They were silent for a while, and Cassian let himself surrender to the pressure of Rhys’ hands, mind drifting back toward the night before as the tension seeped out of him. He had been curious about how Rhys had made the female moan like that, though at the time he’d thought for purely academic purposes. Now he felt a stirring below, curious in an entirely different way.

“Well if you ever change your tune, you’re welcome to pull back the covers and join in,” Rhys said breezily after a long slug of his own drink. “Have you ever had a male before, Cassian?” 

“No. Have you?”

Rhys hummed in confirmation behind him. “It’s not so different, you know.”

He felt Rhys’ hands roaming lower, slipping under his shirt to stroke at his chest, long fingers running through the thatch of curls at the center. Cassian’s whole body went hot, and he warred against the impulse to give in, still not sure if Rhys was sincere or just fucking with him.

“You fuck anything that moves, so I’m not sure how much weight that holds.”

It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it - Rhys was an undeniably handsome male, and even though he didn’t typically lean that way there was something comforting about the familiarity, the trust. The hands continued their path downward, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“I have a very talented tongue, I’ve been told. Seems wrong not to share my gifts.”

“What a public service, lordling." Cassian was surprised by the gravel in his own voice, the building desire thick and heavy on his tongue. "Your subjects are truly grateful.”

“What can I say? I live to serve.”

Cassian hissed as fingers grazed his waistband. The rush of alcohol in his veins was making him feel bold, and Rhys certainly appeared on board, but the old twinge lingered, the unspoken rule.

“Are you sure about this? I mean I’m flattered, obviously, but after everything that happened with Mor I assumed we were all off-limits.”

Rhys’ hands stilled, pulling away from him. “Do you still feel guilty about that?”

“Of course I do,” Cassian murmured even as felt the loss of contact acutely, the part of him that wanted to take what was being offered, to let down his wall of self-sufficiency and be the cared for instead of the carer.

Soft lips pressed against his head, an apology somewhere inside it though neither spoke it aloud. Rhys rounded the chair to stand before the fire, a contemplative air about him.

“You work so hard, Cass, you show up for all of us without a moment’s hesitation. I know you’d die for me, but do you know I’d live in Hel for you?” When Rhys looked back Cassian saw the desire in his own eyes reflected along with something deeper, a wish to be connected, to give. “It’s not wrong to let someone else take over for a while.”

Then Rhys stepped close again and lowered to his knees on the threadbare rug, and Cassian forgot how to string a sentence together, how to breathe.

“Just relax. Let me take care of this for you.”

Deft fingers unlaced his trousers, relieving the ache only the slightest bit, which was somehow worse because Cassian was aware of just how turned on he was, how much he wanted Rhys to keep going. He ran a hand through Rhys’ blue-black hair without thinking, earning a satisfied smirk.

Then his breathing went ragged as the world swirled down to the space between them, the closing gap, before he was nothing but white-hot sensation, gripping the arms of the chair to stay tethered to reality.

“Oh, Mother, fuck that feels good.”

“Told you I'm talented."

—

“And then I went to sleep, and we never talked about it again.”

Nesta had flung an arm over her eyes as she listened, sprawled across the bed now in surrender to the images pouring through her mind.

“Just like that. Just casual oral sex between friends. I can never look him in the eye again, but I also can't wait for him to know that I know. Oh no, and Feyre? Is it my obligation to tell my baby sister that our husbands have..? Please tell me that's it."

Cassian couldn’t help but smile despite his mortification as his wife peeked out from under her arm, assessing. For all Nesta’s dramatics he knew she was listening carefully, holding space for him the way she always had. Her jokes were never aimed to wound, but rather to show him that she could handle whatever he gave her, that she wasn’t afraid of who he was and who he’d been.

“That’s mostly it.”

“Cassian.”

“Look, we’re already here.” He passed her the slice of cake the House dropped onto the nightstand, hoping some sugar might help the bitter pill go down. “I might as well tell you about Amren.”

“Amren?!”

—

There was only one bed.

Cassian had faced monsters, undead creatures, yet nothing in his two hundred years of life compared to the terror he felt staring at that single, solitary bed.

“Why have you stopped?” demanded Amren. “Did you forget how to walk through a door?”

Rhys had sent them near their southern border with Day, their first mission together since Amren’s appointment to the court. They were supposed to retrieve an enchanted mirror guarded by a cantankerous cyclops and his herd of mammoths, had been waylaid by a huge storm that blew in from the west that made flying impossible. But the warrior in Cassian was more worried about the volatile creature in the tavern attic with him now, despite her markedly smaller stature.

“I don’t even think we could share the bed.” He cast a glance around at the rest of the room, which didn’t take long considering how fucking tiny it was, the sharp cant of the roof. “You're small enough to fit in the chair if you curl up like a cat.”

Amren grew impatient with him blocking the door and ducked through the tunnel between his wing and leg to get around him. He shivered when she brushed the edge, grateful the tiny fae was now too busy surveying the room in abject disgust.

“I will not sleep in that chair. I will take the bed, and you can swallow your male pride and sleep on the floor.”

“And if I refuse?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”

She planted her hands on her hips when she said it, but the positioning was slightly off, unrehearsed as she was from developing her gestures in this body in solitude. The effect of that in juxtaposition with her terrifying mercury eyes and awkward attempt at slang made Cassian burst out laughing. “I hate to break it to you, but there’s no way I’m fitting on the floor.”

She didn’t appreciate his words, definitely didn’t appreciate the laughter, but even she could see his point. There was barely enough room for them both to stand, let alone to get his wings in any kind of position that didn’t leave him bent like a broken parasol.

Amren scowled. “Sleep outside then, hang from a tree by your feet or whatever it is your kind do.”

Cassian let the casual cruelty roll over him, used to being looked down on by High Fae. “They’re your kind now, too, you know. You should learn about the people you serve.”

“I know all that I need to, boy,” she snapped. She was ripping through her miniature pack now, searching for something that must’ve sunk to the bottom. “Chiefly that I will sleep here and you will manage elsewhere.”

“Trust me, I would love nothing more than to not share this room, but it’s raining. So you’re stuck with me unless you’d rather I smell like a wet mutt tomorrow.”

Having found what she was looking for, Amren straightened and regarded him over one shoulder, the effect somewhat dampened by the fact she had to crane her neck all the way back at a weird angle to see his face. Cassian felt a nervousness flutter in his stomach, suddenly remembering all she was capable of, what she’d probably have no scruples doing to him. But after a moment she snorted, as if sensing his caution.

“Very well, then.”

She sneered hard enough he thought her face might split before she perched on the edge of the bed and took a swig from a flask, lips coming away ruby.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Cassian said as he removed his own pack, tucking it under the chair she definitely would’ve fit in. Maybe talking about herself would blunt her spikiness, he thought. It always seemed to cheer Rhys up. “What’s with the blood? Is it just for fun or is it part of your whole..” He waved a hand in her direction. “Image. The scary reputation thing.”

“Language has truly declined in the last few millennia. The blood is necessary. That will be the end of your questions.”

The cap of her flask screwed shut of its own accord, metal glinting in the low faelights.

“Fine, fuck. Just trying to be friendly. Do they not do that where you’re from?”

She fixed him with that eerie silver stare that promised the separation of his balls from the rest of him. “Enough. Questions.”

He took her seriously this time, darting from the room when she started pulling out her sleep clothes.

After scarfing down a serviceable meal in the tavern below, Cassian felt the tiredness settle over him like smoke, making his brain fuggy. Amren turned away from him when he returned, and he peeled off his wet leathers with as much modesty as the small room allowed, not wanting to chance asking her to step out. He could shield most of his body with his wings from the back anyway, but he felt her piercing eyes on him, the air charged with something he couldn’t quite place. At first he thought he’d pissed her off further, and was prepared to do some half-hearted groveling when a cold finger traced down the edge of his wing, making him yelp.

“Mother fuck, a little warning?”

He twisted to see Amren right behind him with her pinky raised, the blood red nail tipping it talon-sharp. “I heard these wings were sensitive.”

“Yeah, and it’s also considered pretty fucking rude to touch them without asking,” Cassian choked out when she reached up again, still reeling from the aftershocks of the unanticipated touch. Her eyes swirled like a midwinter squall.

“It was your suggestion I learn about my people.”

He knew she could scent his arousal from the feline smile that spread across her face, that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Stop looking at me like you want to eat me.”

“But you look delicious.”

He couldn’t tell if that meant she wanted to bed him or drain him dry, though neither made sense, nor did the way she knew how to touch his wings that made a fierce hunger spark within him. While it was true he hadn’t slept with anyone in a while, barely anyone outside Illyria really got it right. He suppressed a shudder, heard her sardonic chuckle. 

“My power is in the blood. The flow, the pressure,” Amren said, and Cassian understood as he felt his blood rush south at her words, even as the purr of her voice wrapped around his neck like a noose. “It bends to my will.”

“Careful,” he managed, holding back a groan. “That’s my favorite part.”

Sharp nails tapped on the outer bone of his wing, making him shudder in earnest this time. “I’d have guessed it would be this.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. This was spiraling and he was quickly losing what little ability he had to make tactical decisions. “Maybe this isn’t such a -”

“Shall I stop?”

“NO. No.” His body screamed in protest at the suggestion, and though Rhys would likely kill him for this it was too good,  “Let’s just agree that as of tomorrow, this never happened,” he panted, and when he turned Amren was grinning at him, maybe the first real smile he’d seen her make, just the briefest flash before she pounced. 

It was a whirlwind from that moment on, and he didn’t remember much save for the way she loomed over him, somehow larger than she had any right to be. The blood whizzed through his brain, making him delirious but it felt fucking incredible, like slamming back a shot of pure lifeforce. Amren’s hands danced over his wings expertly, making him see double, so that he didn’t even think to ask how she knew just how to touch them until he was splayed on the floor with his legs under the bed, more thoroughly wrung out than he’d been in decades.

“I had wings once, before I came to your world.”

Perhaps it was the naivety of the afterglow, but Cassian was surprised by the crack that formed in his heart as she said it, the pain that lingered there. She’d been right earlier - his wings were his favorite part, a constant connection to his homeland, his freedom.

“Do you miss them?”

“Every day.”

He lifted a hand to brush back the raven hair that had fallen across her face, but she smacked him away savagely, pushing off his chest to her feet. His head swam as she towered over him, hands on her hips correctly this time.

“It seems you fit on the floor after all, so I’ll be taking the bed. And if you ever speak of this to anyone,” Amren shook the flask, grinning with all her teeth. “I’ll make a special vintage out of you.”

—

Nesta was laughing hysterically now, silver tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

“I’m so glad my misery is funny to you.” Cassian crossed his arms and his mate immediately reached over to uncross them, crawling to sit astride him so he couldn’t close off again. 

“Oh my. Oh. This is..” She took his face in her hands, pressed a kiss to his furrowed brow as her laughter ebbed. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you better.”

She brushed her nose against his, gentler now, a gesture that everything was okay. “You know, it does make me feel better in a way. That there wasn’t anything special about Morrigan, because this is just who you are.”

“What, an idiot?”

“No,” she assured him, stifling the laugh that still wanted to bubble forth. “Open to opportunity.”

“I guess so? I’ve never really thought about it before.”

Nesta lay against him in answer, resting her head on his chest. He took the opportunity to run his fingers through her curtain of hair, and she hummed when he scratched lightly at her scalp, holding him tighter.

“As long as you’re faithful to me now and you’ve never slept with one of my sisters, I don’t much care. You haven’t, right?

“No way, sweetheart. Promise.”

He felt her smile against his skin, the corner of it quirked in a way he knew meant she was scheming over something, or else setting a trap. ”So…” she breathed, her tone full of courtier’s dodginess. “Who was the best?”

“You, of course.”

“Oh no you don’t.” She sat up and glared at him, though he saw the lightness in her eyes, the zing of excitement pulsing under her skin. “You opened this door, you can’t blame me for wanting to walk through it. Answer.”

“Fine. Az was the best. Hands down. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I have an opportunity you might be open to.”

Nesta dug one hand into his hair, the other tracing a line from the hollow of his throat to where their bodies connected and Cassian knew he was fucked, knew she’d do everything she could to outshine those memories, to make hers the only body that lived in his mind.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that was already true, though his motives were not entirely selfless as she slipped her night dress over her head, and they twined for hours with unbridled glee, pausing every now and then for Nesta to fall apart with laughter.

---

Me: I’m gonna write fun silly smut! Also me: *drags out the saddest fucking background info to justify it* And you can pry pansexual switch king Cassian from my cold ass dead ass hands. Also think this may be the first Amren/Cassian fic ever. Is this my legacy? Oh god.

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 7 Reveals 2024

Love, not sedition (琅琊榜 | Nirvana in Fire (TV)) written by aninfiniteweirdo, performed by paintchipblue Summary: 'What is this, if not sedition?' The recording only shows stating as Xiao Jingyan doesn't answer out loud.

settling in (Welcome to Night Vale, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by Koschei_B, performed by DuskDragon39 Summary: On his trip through America, Gerry passes an town of interest. In the end, it might not be exactly all he's expected to be, but he can't say he regrets staying in the long run. At the very least, he get to live, and all the dangerous stuff around isn't his concern to deal with. And, just maybe, he likes how friendly the people are, even if it's a little creepy. Sue him. Or better yet, Mary Keay.

Voice and Heart (The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells) written by lc2l, performed by EternalLibrary Summary: Good morning this is S9BT5, the heart and voice of your Company Substation. Please be aware that we have visitors onboard the station today from a Preservation Survey Team. Staff are expected to be courteous and welcoming, and to remember that all conversations are monitored for training and enforcement purposes.

Time May Change Me (But I can't trace time) (Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy) written by Little_dumpling, performed by Kittona Summary: Anakin’s mother is leaving for Europe and Anakin does not want to come along, thank you very much. But his only other option is to go live on his Uncle Qui-Gon’s horse ranch. Anakin will go, but he did not sign up to do chores!

the cul-de-sac on the spiritual path (The Locked Tomb Series | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir) written by olive2read, performed by carboncopies Summary: stuck in a random catacomb niche, deep in the Ninth House, Wake gets to know Gideon Nav (whether she wants to or not) -or- 5 times Gideon went to visit her mum’s niche -or- why Wake didn’t take the shot

elutriate calor vulpes (All For The Game - Nora Sakavic) written by Opalsong, performed by Flowerparrish Summary: Andrew hated heats. He hated being vulnerable and out of control. Neil…helped. [4 Heats Andrew Struggled Through + 1 He Enjoyed]

Gifts of Gold (gold) (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) written by BardicRaven, performed by BardicRavenReads, audio production by OneGoldenRaptor

Two and a Half Men (Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)) written by Sivan325, performed by Ceewelsh Summary: "Do you mind telling me why I have kid-Bucky in my apartment?" Steve asked. Tony looked at him, noticing how the man looked exhausted. "Bucky? A kid? Are you out of your mind?" "How many kids do you know who have a metal arm and long hair?" "Touché."

Blood of the Covenant (is thicker than the water of the womb) (One Piece (Anime & Manga)) written by stereden, performed by Aibhilin Summary: The little postgull drops the newspaper right in front of her and then hightails it away from Mount Corbo, and that should have been her first clue, because the bird usually likes to hang about and beg for scraps. But not this time. No. Because this time, the newspaper has her oldest brat’s picture plastered all over the front page, but it’s not the cocky grin of his wanted poster. No. It’s her kid, bruised and battered and in chains. Firefist Ace, Whitebeard Commander, to be executed! the headline proclaims for the world to see, and Dadan freezes. birds of a feather (Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)) written by travvymybeloved, performed by godoflaundrybaskets Summary: “Oh, fuck,” Glenn said and through the windshield, Henry could see him throw his joint down onto the dashboard. He threw himself half out the window, leaning out at the waist and throwing open his arms. “Come on, Henry! Go, go, go!” Henry let out a wordless honking noise and started flapping his wings, skipping against the ground and taking off in the air for a few seconds. He hit the ground, took a few shaky steps, then took off again with more confidence. Darryl whooped, starting to rev the car, and Glenn caught Henry out of the air and yanked him into the car. Darryl slammed the stick into drive, the car lurched and shot off across the field, and Ron continued cry-laughing in the backseat as they beat a quick retreat. “You almost got your butt kicked by a bird,” Ron wheezed out, wiping at his eyes, and Henry harrumphed. “Oh my God, that was great.” --- If Henry was asked to guess anything, anything, about Faerûn, "geese act as malicious guides to your soulmate" wouldn't have even made the top 100 guesses. The Hall Pass (หัวใจไม่มีปลอม | Beauty Newbie (Thailand TV 2024)) written by Wereflamingo, performed by Annapods Summary: Liu’s comfortable relationship with her boyfriend Guy gets shaken up when Guy gets cast in a Boys Love series opposite charismatic established actor Saint. Well, Liu thinks he's charismatic. Guy thinks he's extremely annoying and can't be trusted. There's no way that hall pass will ever be needed. Or: a rookie BL actor and his girlfriend acquire a third through the power of BL and complaining about your shared real/imaginary boyfriend. A story about social and parasocial relationships, monogamy and polyamory, sexuality and lack thereof, beauty, choice, and enemies-to-lovers BL, told through voice messages and phone calls on Liu's Phone.

[incirrata]

I just discovered something! so you know all those sayings where the real, older version means the complete opposite of the shortened versions everyone says? like “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” or “jack of all trades, master of none, but better than a master of one”? we’ve also been using “looking a gift horse in the mouth” wrong this whole time!

it’s a really confusing phrase if you think about it—like, what would be in the mouth of a horse? but. what really famous gift horse actually had something important inside of it?

…the trojan horse! it’s actually a good thing to look a gift horse in the mouth, otherwise you might, you know, lose the trojan war. it was originally a phrase sort of like “no such thing as a free lunch,” about the importance of questioning gifts. but over time people started to think it was rude to be skeptical of a gift, so they began to say “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth” as a rebuttal. I say we bring back the original version if it seems like a gift is coming with hidden strings attached.

^ post I’d make if I wanted to try and convince tumblr users of an unimportant but completely false fact. the phrase (very old, a calque from latin) actually refers to inspecting a horse’s teeth to see how old the horse is. fake etymologies are fun to invent though. also I like the idea of telling someone they should probably look that gift horse in the mouth.

[ileftherbackhome]

alright so i know yall know that the full phrase is "blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb" but in the context of hurt feelings, it really elevates the meaning of "blood is thick but water is forever" especially with the "cut off all my hair.... im changing like the weather but ill never be like him" because i assume they are talking about how cutting her hair off makes her look too much like their father and the juxtaposition of that versus "blood is thick, water is forever" makes the song that much more painful to me. abused kids love to tell themselves they will never grow up to become like their abusers but once they're out their house, they start to realize how much of their coping mechanisms correlate with their parent's personalities and stuff.

tldr: hurt feelings song of the millennium

[marukrawler]

I was wondering (maybe you already answered it somewhere else) since I stumbled upon your old post about how Gus is the worst and how he and Spectra were actually the ones that deserved to die so it got me thinking: what if Clay, Spectra, Gus, and Zenoheld all kicked the bucket while the remaining Vexos would survive. What would they do, and where would they go, would Mira get a much-needed character development now that her family is dead? I'm asking because I don't know what Hydron would do or what Mylene and Shadow Prove would do as the last two were very committed to their cause too while Hydron doesn't have any place to go. Could any of the Vexos reappear if Spectra is dead instead?

Hi! Sorry for the late reply!

Long post incoming.

I haven’t talked about it here much, but I’ve definitely thought about what a rewritten S2 would look like and also talked a little about how fitting it would be for Spectra to die as the result of his own hubris. Canon also seems to support this, given these references:

Spectra’s ambition to becoming the new ruler of Vestal is what leads him to alienate himself from the rest of the Vexos and for his comrades to conspire to betray him. It’s entirely possible for Spectra to die at the end of NV1, with no allies to help him escape (Gus being imprisoned) and his former teammates responsible for the events that caused his death (Mylene convincing Hydron to abandon and blow up Vespalace.)

Gus could either die with Spectra or survive the explosion and carry on Spectra’s work (I can easily imagine a scarred Gus wearing Spectra’s mask and continuing the Ultimate Bakugan project in his honor. Perhaps Helios survives, too?) Gus would still try to bring Zenoheld to justice for sullying his master’s name posthumous, resulting in Gus dying to his loyalty to Spectra.

When it comes to Mira, I’ve always thought her story should’ve focused on her eventually besting the older brother that she idealized, as well as realizing that the Resistance is her true family. You know, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb and all that. The mid season finale of S2 could've been the perfect opportunity for Mira to have a final showdown with Spectra. Her character arc could've been complete with her finally gaining the upper hand after years of catching up to him, with Mira rejecting Spectra's corrupt ideals and the person he had become, thus severing their siblinghood.

It would be tough, but she had a support system to fall back on, so she’d be alright. Ace already viewed the Resistance as his family and frequently sympathized with what Mira was going through, so I could easily see him, Baron and Mira becoming really close. I wish Mira had interacted with Baron’s family more and used them as a reference for what a happy family looked like instead of Dan’s family, but I digress.

I don’t think that Clay and Spectra need to be dead for Mira to get her character development, but I also can’t help but think that Mira would’ve been better off if Spectra was dead and gone. It really depends on whether you want Spectra to stick around or not. I would personally have Spectra die from his own ambition (flying too close to the sun, wink wink) at the end of NV1 (the same way I would’ve liked Gus to die to his own loyalty in episode 39) because I think it’s fitting, and I want to preserve his cool factor as a villain at a point where he hasn’t lost to Dan yet a million times. Clay could die after the BT System was thwarted. . .I distinctly remember his laboratory being blasted by a backflow of energy that was sent from across dimensions (Drago’s attack) so him being killed by a Bakugan after trying to massacre all the Bakugan on New Vestroia is also fitting.

In any case, I would personally highlight the found family aspect between Mira and the Resistance members so that way, it’d be easier for her to cut ties with Clay and Spectra.  

As for the Vexos, I think it could go two ways depending on whichever version one prefers.

The Vexos disband similarly to canon events.

Volt is the first to leave the Vexos, of course, when the creation of the BT System and his continued run-ins with the Resistance cause him to reconsider his allegiance to the monarchy. I really like the idea of Volt sabotaging the BT System, thus allowing the Resistance to prevent its activation. He leaves for his hometown during the chaotic aftermath of the Vexos’ second major defeat, teaching the youth about Bakugan battles and helping the Resistance during the final battle.  

Lync is the next to leave the Vexos. I imagine that his reasons for leaving isn’t just because of Alice but because he takes a liking to the planet, too. We also shouldn’t forget that Dan invited Lync to come along with them to Japan. Maybe we could see more of his time spent with Alice in Moscow. Maybe his brief job as a florist opened his eyes to the beauty of nature which didn't exist (or wasn't valued) on Vestal. Eventually he realizes that Volt was the one to sabotage the BT System and it spurs him to leave as well. His escape attempt isn’t as covert, so Hydron is quickly sent to Moscow to dispose of him. Alice spots them outside her house and joins the battle just in time. Or Lync is nearly pulled into the Death portal and Alice warps him out just before it gets dicey, leaving Hydron to believe he finished the job. Whatever works. Lync is most likely staying at Alice’s place, giving the Brawlers all the information he has on Zenoheld’s plans, and joins the final battle after Dr. Michael fixes Aluze.

Mylene and Shadow’s deaths would still occur the exact same way as in canon. I really like how they stayed true to themselves and died together. Very touching!

Hydron’s death, while tragic, is also very appropriate given what we know of his character. Starved of any kind of parental love and approval, he died with his father as both an act of atonement and because being by his father's side was the only place he had left to go. Zenoheld chastised him for his weakness and we saw Hydron return to his father's side yet again during the final battle. . .it was all he knew. A stark contrast to Mylene and Shadow's final moments where Shadow chose to keep her company in the afterlife. Here Hydron is choosing to kill them both and making sure that his father can't escape from him. Something, something, “you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand. And I hope you die. I hope we both die.”

2. The one where the Vexos all survive.

I don’t have a solid foundation on how this version would be written but what I’m basically thinking is Vexos found family (as in Hydron, Mylene, Lync, Volt and Shadow.) It’s fairly easy to see in NV1 how divided the Vexos are, with Spectra and Gus forming one group and Mylene, Volt, and Shadow forming another group (Lync kind of floats in between the two depending on who he spies for lol but I’d still place him with the majority because even when he was discovered to be spying for Spectra, the others gave him a chance to rejoin them instead of leaving him to die with Spectra and Gus.)

Anyhow, in this version Hydron’s bond with the Vexos would be expanded upon further, especially since we know that Hydron was involved in the Vexos recruitment process and handpicked them himself.

However, Hydron’s dynamic with the Vexos in NV2 shifts because he’s no longer their superior and has been stripped of his royal title. He no longer commands them and is, in fact, made to be equal to his underlings by replacing Gus. This can allow for some interesting interactions between Hydron and the others, seeing as how they can disobey him and even express their distaste towards him without the fear of being punished. Likewise, since Hydron no longer has any authority, he can now start to act more like a boy his age instead of being expected to act like a prince. The other Vexos members could begin to like him more as a person this way.

We’ve seen glimpses of camaraderie between the Vexos members and know that they care about each other to some extent, so it’s possible to have Hydron become closer with the group that he previously bossed around. Mira and Hydron could mirror each other in the found family aspect, just like how they're already similar to each other in other aspects, such as seeking love and validation from a disinterested parental figure, using the Subterra attribute in battle, and recruiting the teams that they are respectively in charge of.

I'm not exactly sure how NV2 would transpire in this version but I’m thinking that the Vexos are still more likely to survive here. They’d probably fight Zenoheld in the final battle to save themselves the universe but unrelated to the Battle Brawlers. Once he’s gone, I imagine they might take the Vestal Destroyer and roam around the cosmos since they can’t return to Vestal…I’m not sure if I buy that Mylene accepts that outcome and won’t be swayed to take over Vestal herself LMAO but whatever. It’s an idea!!

So yeah, those are my thoughts lolol 

[rebelliousstories]

Lost To The Sea

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader, Nick Burkhardt x Reader(Platonic)

Fandom: Grimm

Request: No

Warnings: Brief Strong Language, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2,633

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Tidal Wave // Part 2: Hearts of Sea Stone

Summary: It all comes to an end: Blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb.

“Now he is certainly sailing above, he on whom my wishes hang, and in whose hand I should like to lay my life's happiness. I will dare everything to win him and an immortal soul.”

Nick shot Hank a confused look as their captain raced out of the office. They had never seen him look in such a panic before.

“That does not look like a phone call I want to be on right now.” Hank joked, but Nick could just feel something was wrong.

“Yeah. No doubt.” He responded, his mind halfway elsewhere. Feeling something hit his shoulder, Burkhardt turned around and saw his partner looking at him with a weird expression.

“You okay man?” Griffin questioned, feeling the laughter leave his body. Nick pursed his lips and looked around to make sure they would not be over heard.

“Come with me.” He led his partner into the captain’s office and shut the doors behind him. Turning the shades down, Burkhardt let out a deep long sigh and placed his hands on his hips.

“Look, I found a wesen that used to know the captain. She makes these, crystals, in her tears. I don’t think she’s the one committing the murders, but she is definitely connected somehow.” He explained, watching as Henry took in this information.

“Okay. So what does that have to do with the captain now?” Henry inquired.

“I’ve got a feeling that this phone call was related to her.” Nick conceded. His gut was going off, and he did not like it.

~

Renard pulled up to the outside of the club that he had been at earlier that day. Trying the door, he found that it’s was unlocked. Already on high alert and anxious to see what he would find, he drew his weapon and marched back into the building. Clearing the doorway, he could see the light still on in her dressing room. Sean cleared the hallway, and quickly opened the door.

Inside, it caused him to drop his gun in shock. The inside of her dressing room was a mess. Clear evidence of a struggle, but the basin of water that had been knocked over caught his attention quickly. He recognized that this is what she had been collecting the crystals in while she was on land. Water was spilled all over the place, and several crystals were strewn about the room. The bowl was shattered, and he suspected that a good chunk of crystals were taken.

There was no way to call this in without explaining everything to his precinct. Sean felt conflicted. He did not even know where the mystery man had taken his lover. Pacing the room, he tried to look at this scene like a detective, like a police captain, but could only see it as a concerned partner. He realized he needed help, so Renard grabbed the phone out of his coat pocket, and kept his gun out just in case. Turning it on with his left hand, he raised it to the corresponding ear.

“Nick,” he started, “I’m sending you an address. I need some help.”

~

“Well, she put up a hell of a fight. That’s for sure.” Detective Burkhardt commented, looking the scene over with his partner and captain beside him.

“I can’t see anything past that. She was definitely talking to a male voice who was in the room with her. I had only left her alone for thirty minutes or so. How could he have gotten to her so fast and without me noticing?” Sean lamented, seating himself on one of her stools set up throughout the room. His toned was stressed to say the least, yet no one commented on it.

“Did you recognize the voice?” Hank questioned, but Renard shook his head.

“i don’t think she knew who it was either. Her tone didn’t sound-” he cut himself off with a sigh, “she didn’t sound like she knew him but I could hear the panic in her voice. She was so scared and was waiting for me to save her. I was just down the road.” He began again, and could not get the sound out of his ears.

“Is there anything about Tödlicheslied that would lend themselves to being kidnapped?” Nick asked, this time as a Grimm.

“Other than the obvious, not that I know of. They’re a secretive people. Only allowed to mate with other water wesen or risk ostrichization, that sort of thing. They don’t allow outsiders to learn about their species.” Sean explained, shaking his head as to how this could have happened.

“Only allowed to be with other water wesen? Could we be looking at a male naiad? You said that he knew who was on the phone, and who she was with last night. Is it possible that we’re looking for a naiad that wants to bring her back into the fold?” Nick offered. He watched his captain think about it for a moment, and all of the sudden, it was like a light bulb went off in his head.

“Tödlicheslied especially, but naiads as a whole have a tradition. A mating tradition during the full moon. They implement blood magic to bind them together. To separate or kill one, would harm or kill the other. If he’s a naiad looking to bring her back to their world, that could be what he’s planning.” Sean explained.

“Let me guess, the full moon is tonight?” Nick asked. Renard nodded.

“Looks like it’s gonna be a long night for us.” Henry replied, not feeling good about the night ahead.

~

“You don’t need to do this, you know? I can give you money if that’s what you want. You didn’t have to take me.” She begged as her hands were bound behind her to the chair she was placed in. The young man who was tying her up only chuckled as she struggled.

“I can’t take that chance Sirena. Besides,” he faced her once more, “I don’t want your money. I want you.” The crazed look in his eyes sent the woman shivering.

“What- w-what do you mean you want me?” Her question made the man stare at her.

“You left the clan. Maybe your family turned their backs on you, but I haven’t. And ever since learning how alike we are, I have realized that we were meant to be. Even if you think you like that zauberbiest.” He growled that last sentence, but it made her stomach drop.

“Have you been stalking me?” Yelled the frightened woman. Bad went to worst.

“Never mind that. And forget about him. After tonight, nothing else will matter.” He began to walk away, but stopped to hang up something shiny. A gorgeous multifaceted deep sea blue gown hung from a hanger on a metal pole. If she focused hard enough, she could hear the sound of water from wherever they were.

“What’s happening tonight?” A fearful question was asked. The man simply smiled, and stroked his fingers over the gown, seemingly in a daze. But when he turned to face her, she saw that he was completely present and in the moment.

“Our wedding, of course.” And with that, the man turned and left the Tödlicheslied, tied up, struggling, and afraid.

~

Hours had passed, and the members of the police force of Portland were no closer to finding the missing woman than when they started. They were all sat at their desks, chugging coffee, and stressing themselves to the max. There was only thirty minutes to nightfall, and the sun casted a beautiful glow inside the precinct.

“This just doesn’t make any sense. She didn’t have any enemies. We sorted through the fan mail she received, none of it was even close to this level of creepy. She’s just not here.” Nick struggled to find the words to respond to Hank’s observation. The Grimm cast his eyes towards his captain’s office to see the blinds still closed. He had no doubt that the man was sitting inside and beating himself up for something bad happening to her.

Nick suddenly stood up and walked into the office that was shut tight to the outside world. Inside, he found Sean sitting at his desk, a worried expression and fiddling with the locket that was placed back around his neck.

“You first found her on the Willamette, right?” He questioned, hearing Hank follow in behind him. Renard was pulled from his thoughts by the voice.

“That’s right.” He answered, sitting up to rest his elbows on the desk instead. His fingers still messed with the locket.

“Do you remember exactly where you first found her? If this guy knows that you mean something to her, he could know her from before she left the water.” Nick finished. Sean did not have to think long before remembering exactly where he first saw her.

“Of course I do.” He responded.

“Well, let’s go for a drive.” Nick ushered the other two men out of the office and into the detective’s car. The group of men made their way down town right as night fell, and each was immediately on edge as they watched the moon brighten with each passing second. Driving along the river, Sean looked out towards the water and surrounding area,just waiting to see something familiar.

“Stop the car.” Said he, suddenly. Griffin made the car jolt with how quickly he threw on the breaks, and let the captain race out to look around while he put the car in park. The two detectives got out and watched the man pace around with an affirmative look on his face.

“This is where I first met her. She had washed up on shore and, this is where I gave her my coat once she fully transformed into a more human like form.” Sean retraced his steps like he was reliving memories long since past.

“So, if he knows who you are, then he’d want to do this somewhere special. We need to find out if these building are inhabited.” Nick commented, however his plans were cut short by the sound of arguing and a woman’s scream.

It was her scream. In an instant, Sean had drawn his firearm and began to move towards the direction of the scream. His two detectives had followed after him shortly, also with their firearm’s drawn and down at their sides. They ran in a triangle formation and were prepared for the worst when they found out who that was screaming.

Rounding a corner, they were met with nothing. However, the slightest noise for behind them caused three guns and three flashlights to be pointed to a man and a woman on the edge near the river. That was definitely her, Sean’s lover. But the men still had no clue who the man was. He had grasped her tightly in front of his chest, and held a blade to her throat.

“Don’t come any closer!” The man yelled, but the police chief moved swiftly towards them.

“Put the woman down, and get on your knees. Hands behind your head.” Sean growled, watching the lady try and escape his grasp.

“You don’t understand. We’re going to be together forever. She shouldn’t be with you!” He screamed at the man, and he stopped.

“And why is that?” Renard never once lowered his gun.

“You’re a zauberbiest. You just manipulate everyone else to do your bidding and yet reap all the rewards. You don’t know a thing about us! Our people, our culture, our way of life.” He did not stop his speech.

“You know nothing and yet you wanna take her away from her people? I was there for her. Twenty-four lunar cycles she wailed for you. And I thought that if she had a friend, she could get over the stupid surface life she had. But she didn’t.” As if the words coming out of his mouth suddenly lit a spark underneath her, the Tödlicheslied’s eyes went wide, and she spoke for the first time.

“Ardalion? That’s you?” Her bafflement was clear in her voice as she stopped struggling for a moment. He smiled and looked proud of himself.

“Finally, you stop pretending not to know my name or who I am. Why don’t you tell your boyfriend how we met.” Ardalion’s voice growled on the word ‘boyfriend’ and he did not hide the look of disdain either. She struggled mentally for a moment before responding.

“You kept leaving me presents at my stage door. You-you followed me into my dressing room one evening to give me a bouquet of water lily’s.” She cried, starting to physically struggle once more. The man’s smile dropped.

“No. No, that’s not right at all. I came to visit you when your family kept you locked away. I was always to afraid to open the door and speak. But you and I were there, together, in that moment.” He lamented as she clearly did not remember the same instance that he did.

“Ardalion, let her go.” Nick spoke up, all the sudden. Said man was starting to chuckle, but it died in his throat as he saw the deep dark look on the man’s face.

“A Grimm.” Ardalion breathed out shakily. With a Grimm to his right, detective to his left, and a police captain that happened to be the woman’s boyfriend in front of him, the naiad felt he had no other option left. He tossed the bound woman into the water and followed her in. What he did not expect to happen was Sean tossing aside his gun and phone, and diving in after the two.

Nick and Hank kept their guns trained on the water and waited. Even with surrounding street lights and the moon, their visibility was not the best. Renard reached his lover who had fully transformed into her Tödlicheslieden form now that she was submerged in water, and hauled her away from the man. Leaving him alone for the time, Sean focused on getting her out of the water where he could tend to her bindings.

Coughing and sputtering, the couple landed on the shore line, where the two detectives had jumped in to help immediately. There was rummaging around on behalf of Sean as he dug into his coat. He procured a small glass vial, and dribbled the contents into his lover’s mouth. Her coughing slowed as her skin cleared from glorious and luminescent scales, to a normal flushed pink human tone. As her organs rearranged themselves, no one was watching the water. Renard was grabbed from behind and nearly rejoined the river below with Ardalion again had it not been for Hank grabbing his captain at the last second.

Hauling them both back up, Hank separated the two and allowed Nick to step in to work on the young man. Ardalion swung blindly at the Grimm, which he was able to doge with ease. Burkhardt wrapped around the back of him and dropped him to the ground, reached for his handcuffs, and grabbed his phone. The sound of Nick calling it in was white noise to Sean as he calmed down his lover.

“It’s okay. I’m here. Calm, and slow breathes. You’re alright.” She tried to follow his breathing, and ran her hands up and down his arms to try and ground herself. Now that she was free, and away, her brain could calm and right itself.

“Sean? You’re here.” She cried, throwing herself into her lover’s arms. They wrapped around her just as tightly as she did him.

“I’ll always come back for you.” He replied. Petting her soaking wet hair, Sean sent a grateful look towards his detectives, and just allowed himself to relish in his lover being safe and sound in his arms. Unharmed, and truly there.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

LOG (SUBJECT: Round 16 - AFTERMATH)

SPECIMEN: 001247

How is this possible? How can he be winning?

This doesn't make sense. Something has gone wrong. Something has to have gone wrong. Cas won, Cas needs to win, Cas isn't winning. The scores are close but Cas won the last season. Cas won against Kyo and now, Nyx is winning against Cas, and it doesn't make sense, this shouldn't be happening.

This can't be happening, this must be another nightmare but Nyx can feel his hands trembling as he keeps playing his bass, pick between his fingers like a lifeline. Too vivid to be a dream, too visceral, the plastic buckling underneath his desperate strength. Their voices are twining together, fierce and raw reaching and dragging the soft and modest into the light. Together, they're blood in the water (the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb), weaving a tapestry out of their pain, Cas smiling at him as they stand by each other's sides and try their very best. Cas wrote the lyrics for their song, Nyx handling the instrumental and the composition, and while he can't say he didn't expect it, the words spilling from his lips still make his stomach churn.

"I'm alright, I'll be fine if we turn out the lights," he sings like a confession, letting his eyes flutter shut for the briefest of breaths.

It almost hurts, how accurate the words are. Even now, here he is, turning out the lights by closing his eyes,

"I'll admit that I can't quit whenever I get started up" Cas continues, the slightest edge of laughter tinging his voice.

"I'm alright, I'll be fine, if we turn out the-"

Everything shatters in a moment, thunder booming in the arena, the crack of a gunshot make Nyx's eyes shoot open. Immediately, he's pivoting and catching Cas, almost on instinct. His bass clatters to the floor as he clutches onto Cas' forearms like a lifeline, meeting the eyes of his brother, one of the few steady presences in his life, dull amber landing on ivory. A laugh bubbles up out of Cas' throat, blood coming up with it, dripping down his perfect lips as his sharp lashes fan out on his cheeks like the thorns of a rose. All that Nyx can hear anymore is that laughter and his heart pounding in his chest. He tries to press his palm into the wound, tries to stop more of Cas' life from pooling out on the floor but Cas winces and Nyx's hand freezes.

"Nyxie," Cas rasps, before he's shot again. He staggers forward, carried by the force of the bullet, more blood coming out of his mouth in a hoarse cough. He looks up, meeting Nyx's eyes again, star pupils twinkling despite the ashen tint his skin is taking on. He lifts his hand and shakily cups Nyx's face. "Nyxie, don't. It's over." He's smiling when he says it, trying to reassure even in his last moments.

He knew this would happen.

"You- you planned this," Nyx realizes aloud. Cas blinks, the slightest flicker of surprise flashing over his face before he laughs, again. It's getting more broken, frantic, almost hysterical. "Cas, you threw the competition, didn't you?"

"And that's why I love you," Cas slurs, slumping forward, his forehead on Nyx's shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me not to worry," Nyx snaps. Cas doesn't reply, limp in Nyx's arms, and static starts to trickle into Nyx's head. Louder, louder, drowning out the screaming of the crowd, the cheers and jeers both, the blood on his hands and the warmth of it leaking out on his hands, his shoulder, where Cas' head rests. He shakes Cas, saying something, demanding a response, but he can't even hear himself speak anymore, the noise in his skull is getting so loud. He frantically searches for a pulse on Cas' neck, two trembling fingers pressing to the jugular and finding no rhythm. Terror grips his muscles even as he scrabbles for Cas' hand to double-check, make sure he didn't just miss it, because he's been wrong before.

Fuck, he hopes he's wrong. He prays he's wrong, to every wretched deity still up in the godsforsaken sky.

Nothing, again. Not a single beat. Nothing.

Static consumes every other sound, tinnitus filling Nyx's ears as the only things he can process is his own world falling apart around him. He wants to throw up but his body doesn't have the energy, the will, to eject anything right now, conserving what little he has. Distantly, he can feel his chest start to hiccup on sobs as he hugs Cas' lifeless body to his chest, long past caring whether or not he'll stain his clothes. He buries his nose in Cas' hair, knowing this is the last time he'll ever get a chance to smell his childhood again.

Because that's the thing, the crux of the issue, the single thread of clarity amongst the overstimulation and crackling, spitting output, Cas' hair smells like Anakt flowers and it always has. Underneath the rich, exotic cloud of perfume and the layers upon complicated layers of flashy aromatics, Cas smells like home. Cas smells like growing up, fingers carding through Nyx's hair, the water lapping at his ankles, the sticky plastic grass cutting at his calves in the simulated wind. The sun beating down, laughter filtering through the azure skies, ghosts of people long gone playing with each other as if nothing has happened- because it hasn't yet. They were all so young and innocent once, unaware of the danger that loomed, unaware of their necks destined for the chopping block. Nyx can't really remember the last time he was innocent.

When he's pulled away from Cas' body, he isn't aware of the hands gripping his arms and dragging him up, leading him away. His glassy, unseeing eyes are fixed on the corpse that they pick up thoughtlessly, as if it's worthless, as if it isn't his older brother, the person who loved him despite every single odd. If he were awake, maybe he would fight off their hands. If he cared, he supposes, he would put up a fight, kick and scream and claw and tear but he isn't.

He wonders if Cas still loves him, even though he isn't fighting.

Cas (and Kyo) belong to @lookatmysillies! <3

[sungbeam]

spread some love !

talk about your favourite mutuals and why you like them

hi anon! thanks for sending this in :') im always so bad at posting these things, but i can def do this one. i don't know if i would classify them specifically as favorites, but more so people i've interacted with the most 😭

@justalildumpling : i don't even need to go on besides saying that this woman is my soulmate. "in another life" but we're gonna beat the universe and meet in every life, type of connection. the girl who has seen me at my worst and has still treated me with as much kindness and compassion and care as she did the first time. i feel like in certain ways, we're kind of polar opposites, but also the same? i mean, on paper we can be so different, but when we talk abt what we like and dislike, when we laugh together, it all becomes something of the same and she restores my faith in other people again. she's the person who constantly makes me want to be a better person.

@ethereal-engene : one of my two beloved 姐姐's on this site skfnrknf but i remember talking to ash so many nights abt just any and everything. i am so happy that we're comfortable enough to be able to joke around, share our niche interests, have deep conversations, and even pen pal!! like i think it's crazy how SIMILAR our families are; we could legitimately be long lost sisters haha but also the blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb sometimes, so that makes sense. she's one of my comfort people, and honestly, i feel like we both come out of nowhere with some topics, but either person will hop right into the convo regardless and just vibe 🤧

@winterchimez : my second 姐姐 on this site !! my older sisters def take care of me well and i am so grateful for that :')) ally is always so supportive and yet so energergizing to talk to. she's def seen a lot of my brainstorming and i feel very comfortable bouncing ideas off her. she's always so generous with me too, like care packages??? RAH 😭 obviously, i love her for reasons besides the material goods, but it's a love language nonetheless. ally is prob one of the warmest and most welcoming presences on this hellsite tbh, so if ur ever looking for a new friend/mutual, she's the best.

@loveliestfelix : nana is another reason why im still around. i like to thank that beomgyu drabble every day for kickstarting our friendship because i have never met someone i have had such lengthy and fun brainstorming sessions with. nana is the type of person i would love to meet irl and just share stories over coffee with, though i feel like i always associate her with train rides and coffee now HAHA she's also one of my greatest writing inspirations, like i was and have always been blown away by her mind, and her word counts. i love calling her the queen of angst, and you will never be disappointed when reading something of hers.

@jaehunnyy : chip's been here for a really long time, like guys, no one can compete when she's been here since i had park jisung as my pfp and she had jeno as hers 😭 i think i really treasure our friendship and how much it's grown over the past two years :')) so much has happened over that time, and i think that if i met her in real life, i would just be blown away by how pretty she is like TT anyways,, i always love talking to her because of how much chaotic energy we create when we do, like i feel like we can power an entire city grid with how much chaos we make, and it's all the better for it. i love her very much, and i hope she understands just how wonderful of a person and friend she is.

@mosviqu : oh, my beloved bar, i love u to bits and pieces. i think recently you've become one of the few reasons why im still here writing and posting. like i am so utterly, from the bottom of my heart, grateful for all of your support and the love you've given and shown me. and even when we moved to dms to converse, i just realized how cool you are as a person, and how similar we are (in the best way possible). it's really nice to be able to connect with a person on multiple levels, and im really happy that was the case with us :') as soon as i saw ur love for tomorrow by chanyeol, i knew there would be something more to our friendship. i am so very fond of you, and your writing blows me away every time i read it.

@zzoguri : moni :( i hope ur doing well, friend, and i know you haven't been active here lately but i do wish you all the best. i love how passionate and committed you are to improving in writing and developing your own creative writing style, and it's so impressive to read your writing in general :') i love the confidence you advocate for yourself, and how real you are. thanks so much for being a friend; i just really appreciate all the support and hype you've given me during my time on deobiblr, like thank you for being such a thoughtful person.

@wuahae : cat and i have definitely interacted more off this site than on this site, but i felt that it was dire she was included here nonetheless. like bro, thank you for literally being the reason i come out of my apartment (or in most cases, invite people to my apartment), and for thinking of me! i think i once told you how hard it is to find friends in college, but you've made my experience here far less lonely. i love getting dinner with you, planning outings, and making weird animal noises together on the streets 😭 also, cat's writing is literally so poetic, and just her explaining to me her plot ideas tears visceral reactions out of me TT

@yunhoszn : i feel like me and fawn are low-key on the same wavelength a lot of the times, but in general, i think fawn's just such a rad person. i've told her once or twice before but i genuinely love her writing style because it has so much personality in it. it just makes reading her fics such a fun and enjoyable experience. also even off this site, i have so much fun interacting with her, like just commenting on her instagram posts like the gremlin i am, i know she's gonna hit me with the best response back skfnkejd (waiting for the day i go to where u r so u can do my makeup low-key... ur so fly, pls do my makeup...)

@goldenhypen : em, my lovely twin :')) i know our interactions have def decreased, but i don't think that's decreased the fondness we hold for one another. i remember when em first started interacting with my works and then followed me, i literally rolled off the couch cuz i started fangirling 😭 and she is one of the most genuine and brightest presences here. she is a follow forever, bro, you better follow her forever. i just adore her compassion for others and her absolutely adorable fic concepts, and omg don't even get me started on her work ethic 😭 i wished u the best everyday you had requests, i don't know how u did it. you are literally superhuman.

@hqrana : i haven't spoken with noa in quite awhile, but im guessing it's cuz she's girlbossing her way through to that nursing program 🤧 my favorite woman in stem girl in this hellsite, she is my beloved xnonie 😭 i think i just appreciate noa's undeniable presence and character so much, like she brings so much energy to my inbox whenever she's here, and her support of my ideas and fics just makes me 🙇🏻‍♀️ like thank you for being here. and to know we both love marvel and taylor swift? i feel like she has to be like,, my best friend? like she needs to be my best friend?? sending hugs and well wishes your way, always.

[ails-of-ardor-au]

Would this au rewrite or add to Bloodclan? While I like the idea of Scourge forming it, it often seems unnecessary cruel? Like how it's described and how Scourge is described. I thought that, due to what he went through, he created the group as a way to help those who suffered like him.

The only reason he agreed to help Tiger, was to betray him, and also gain more resources for the clan. It would be interesting if Bloodclan ever had an alliance to the clans as they can get items the clans otherwise wouldn't have. Plus, gain more new blood to prevent... the dreaded family tree

I agree heavily with your view here! It was so odd to me that, after experiencing such traumatizing violence, Scourge would then go on to… create a system that idolizes violence. Of course, this can happen as a means of a victim coping, but it’s just odd to me that Tiny, a young cat who was shown to be very curious and with a thirst for knowledge and to make himself be seen as “great”, would go on to make himself into a monster to achieve that.

I have some ideas on how to restructure BloodClan, but I think that, ideally, Scourge would focus more on the “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” thing. The streets are a cruel place with a very heavy “only the strong will survive; the weak have no place here” mentality… So Scourge comes in and pointedly MAKES a place for the “weak”, the forgotten, the alone — so that no one else will ever feel as he has.

Sure, he’s nowhere NEAR a perfect leader; he’s got a short temper and a sharp tongue and a tendency to leap before he looks, but… he didn’t even really want to be a leader in the first place. And he’s pretty young, as well; no one blames him for his flaws. He’s almost heralded as a god by his cats, who he has gathered, sorted, and protected fiercely… but he’s always held a grudge on the Clans of which he derived BloodClan’s name to spite them. His Clan is the greatest, one born of true loyalty, community, and protection…

The Clans of the forest should learn to take a page out of his book… But Scourge won’t be the one to take that first step.

I like to think that Tigerclaw, here, is a bit more paranoid and with clearer motives (though that’s another post for another time). He keeps his cards close to his chest, and keeps his enemies far and his allies further; he might seek BloodClan out specifically because it’s hard garnering control over the amount of cats he suddenly has under him, and harder still to earn his loyalty… but BloodClan is twice the size of TigerClan, and yet still thrives even in the worst of places. He might have sought advice, initially, and then an exchange of resources, an offer to merge and share… and Scourge takes his time deliberating on the offer of the tom who scarred him and clearly doesn’t remember him.

I’ll come back to his and sort it into more sense later 👀

[nyxwritesstuff19]

Things People Say

“Bollocks.” Crowley cursed under his breath, searching his pockets again. He could very well miracle up another, but he had that specific bag specifically miracled almost twenty minutes ago to feed these specific ducks specifically and his brain had said specific too many times it was developing a lisp to his own ears.  

A duck quacked loudly at his feet and he narrowed his eyes at it. “In case it escaped your birdbrain, I don’t have any bloody food.” 

The duck only glared back at him and he engaged in the stare down until quiet giggles caught his attention. He turned to bright eyes sparkling with amusement. They were sat on the ground with a blanket rumpled up beneath them and a flock of ducks all nesting themselves in the wrinkles and pecking at the fabric.  

“I don’t think they speak English, I’m afraid.” they said, grinning. “You can sit if you want, though.” 

Crowley glanced over them consideringly before eyeing their little set up. It was difficult to maintain his swaying hips picking through the hoard of birds but he made it to a clear spot beside them, sitting with a soft huff.  

Nearer now, he spied the small green peas where he thought the ducks had been pulling at the blanket and smiled to himself.  

“You don’t feed ‘em bread either?” he asked casually, relaxing back under the weak sunshine.  

They shook their head, showing off the bag of peas in their hand. “This is better for them. They seem to like it too, which is a bonus.” 

“Why can’t ducks eat bread?” He wondered, watching another one waddling up to join them.  

They let him take some peas to feed it, humming consideringly before they answered. “Apparently, it’s about nutrition. There isn’t much in bread they benefit from, and it fills them up so they don’t eat the good stuff.” They scrunched their brows, looking up at the sky while they thought over their words. “It’s kind of like how you fill a cup full of ping pong balls and then sand. If you put the sand in first, you won’t get as many ping pong balls in. They need their ping pong balls first and their sand afterwards- if they still want it.” 

“Sand and ping pong balls? That’s a new one.” he smirked, amused.  

They flushed and shrugged their shoulders. “Weird, I know.” 

“Makes sense at least.” Crowley said, giving the ducks another round of peas. “Beats half the sayings humans have come up with over the years.” 

“They’ve all changed so much, though. And people don’t even remember the original saying, twisting it to fit them instead.” They commented, ignoring Crowley's wince at the slip up. “Like that whole ‘blood is thicker than water’ schtick.” 

“That’s not the original?” He asked, furrowing his brow. He’d heard it over the millennia but he couldn’t pinpoint an origin. 

They nodded, shifting to face him better where they sat criss cross. “The original was ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.’ meaning the complete opposite of what people use it for today.” 

Crowley hummed thoughtfully, glancing back over to them, “You know any others? The original ones I mean.” 

“Yeah, a few. Like ‘Jack of all trades but master of none.’ also has ‘but better than master of one’.” They continued only to smile down at a little duck insistently asking for some pets. “Another one would be curiosity killed the cat, it’s more commonly known that satisfaction brought it back. And ‘early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.’” 

“Bit morbid.” Crowley mused, scrunching his nose.  

Another giggle escaped their lips and his gaze was drawn back to their face, eyes pinched in the corners from their smile.  

“Maybe a bit, but it’s still technically true.” They conceded.  

Crowley smiled and their conversation continued with ease.  

Hours stretched, ducks came and went, and they both only thought to come back down to Earth when the peas were all gone and the ducks had all waddled back to the water.  

“Guess we should go.” They murmured, fiddling with a fold of the blanket.  

Crowley made a noise of agreement, trying not to acknowledge the fact he wasn’t at all prepared to let them go and lose their company.  

“Will you be back here, by any chance?” He asked quietly, almost hoping they hadn’t heard it as he helped them fold up the blanket.  

They flashed him a small smile, hugging the plush square to their chest. “Yeah, I can be.” 

“Tomorrow, perhaps?” Crowley grinned hopefully. 

“Tomorrow.” They agreed, reaching out and giving his bicep a warm squeeze before they slipped past.  

Crowley looked out over the pond, emotions swirling and fluttering in his chest, making his lips smile wide and already yearning for tomorrow to get to him already.