#they're just creatures trying to survive just like them

[psalidodont]

'' We were tasked to not upset the balance of this broken world. Getting rid of the scourge that attempts to corrupt what's left of it, yet... it keeps popping back. It doesnt stop, it just keeps growing... and growing. Dragons wont stop coming, and our villages keep being raided as soon as the Cataclyism keeps on moving... Silently creeping towards the earth's end. ''

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[the-aviary-system]

Mood. We've had to stop playing games like this because we'd get unhealthily addicted to "number go up"

Like we'd get a withdrawal like effect, we'd get anxious about missing out on potential number going up if we didn't have whatever idle game we were obsessing over running in the background of our computer 24/7. Doing schoolwork? Keep it in the background and tab in like every 5 minutes to check in on it and buy upgrades. Planning D&D? Same thing.

Other games that use the "number go up" formula often got greedy with their players and kept trying to exploit their addiction to make them spend money, they made it more and more grindy until it was impossible for free-to-play people like us to keep up. (We didn't have a job, so no consistent money, so that's a reason why we were FTP. I dunno if we would've fallen into the trap of spending tons of money on games like these if we had a consistent income)

After getting disillusioned with our latest "number go up" simulator, I decided to try cookie clicker because I heard it wasn't pay to win. Yeah, I used an autoclicker too. And CC was pretty neat and all, it wasn't exploitative, which I appreciate- it was a grindy game in its purest state, grinding for the sake of grinding, gaining numbers for the hell of it, instead of trying to make money off of players- but since it wasn't actively trying to exploit us with FOMO it let us stop and think, and we realized we don't even enjoy these kinds of games that have taken up hours and hours of our lives.

So we made a rule for ourselves. No more of these games. From now on, we only play games if we're actually enjoying them, not just playing it out of obligation to make the number go higher. And it was really hard to stop playing since we got that same kind of withdrawal effect, the little itch in the back of the head that "I could be more productive right now, if I just had one of those games open in the background while I write I would be more productive" but we had to just fight that.

Anyway, that's not to say nobody should play these games. I'm not writing this to shame anyone for playing them, I'm not trying to sound preachy and hope that it doesn't come off that way- this comic just reminded me of our experience with these types of games and I felt like talking about it since we were addicted to these kinds of games for a good while. Some people will definitely be able to handle the addicting nature of these games better than we can. Some people genuinely enjoy the grind because it lets them just turn off their brain for a little while or not have to focus too much on something. Just be mindful to not let it become an addiction, is all.

So yeah that's the story of how we had an addiction to really grindy idle games

-Emyr (he/it)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

............

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

...............

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

[evilminji]

You know? I DO enjoy me a DPxDC... but what if we make it MORE?

Because I CAN.

So the Daughter, a manifestation of The Light, got fucked up on Mortis... right? And? For the given quality of an eternal constant? "Died"?

Where do we know... that takes CONCEPTS when they die? The Afterlife of the abstract? The Afterlife of AFTERLIVES? Where literally TIME went to Die? As though THAT'S a thing that could happen.

A place that, for them, is probably more of a rest stop.

Removed, but connected. Full of EVERYTHING and ALL THINGS, across every single dimension from here until the endless? The sort of place that could?? Recharge and rebirth... GODS.

So she rocks up.

Huh.... neat. Very green! Lovely place you've got here! She loves the little Blob creatures. It reminds her of- *long and cheerful ramble about various alien species*

Needless to say? Danny LIKES this one! Some of the gods that pass through are ASSHOLES. But, you know, as "King"? They (the various collective Danny's who became King. Don't ask. It's a whole... Multiverse Thing.) are supposed to be in charge of enforcing the "Everyone Be Cool" directive that the ZONE wants.

Do NOT anger the Soup.

NO ONE survives Angry Primordial God Soup.

So he's more of a... "I mean... Technically, yes that IS what they call me" Sort of king? Why? Ooooh? Tale of Woe? Wait! Let him get snacks and his sister! Ghosts LOVE a good Tale Of Woe! Did it lead to your death? Oooh, ooh! Were you wronged and betrayed!? Tell us, tell us! :D

The Daughter? Can finally? LAUGH about it. Weep for it. Make merry and... well, LIGHT, about it. She was never MEANT to be so somber and serious. So angry and in pain. Her brother has done so much HARM though, you know? He's a JERK! And her Father keeps doing NOTHING!

She's very upset! *various ghosts Booooo her Father and Brother, nod at appropriate points in her story* how cathartic! She should visit more. Visit the OTHER Force manifestations that died off and moved here. But.... oh, she's rather worried you know?

The Jedi. They're her special little blorbos. Babies trying their BEST! And her Brother us CHEATING and being a... A-! Well, a right BASTARD! Could any of you help?

And?? Dani? With an I? Whoms't has JUST hit the ice on her drink? Sucks that last bit obnoxiously, and says~? "Lady. Can I HELP? I'm the PERFECT Clone for the JOB!" >:D

Cause DANI? Has a NEW Platonic Situationship! They fight! They're best friends! He tries to kill her and she shoves his stupid head in a volcano! Takes Teekle for a spa day! They are DIVORCED and never married! It's GREAT! Do you know how much CHAOS they've made?!

She's the Construction to his Destruction! The Yang to his Yin! She goes high, he puts frogs in your chest cavity! They. Break. Brains~☆

But! And most importantly. When COMBINED? HE keeps HER from trying to save everything. Reminds her that sometimes? You DO need to destroy for new things to grow. And SHE reminds HIM that if you destroy everything? All the chaos STOPS. FOREVER. Because LIFE is chaos. DEATH is Order. And WE? Are BETTER then that.

So~☆

What's this about a "thousand year Sith Plan"?

HA! Cute. >:3c >:3c *Choas in stereo*

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Thinking about being a demigod as a metaphor for neurodivergency

Thinking about demigods fighting monsters no one else can see, thinking about the mist, how mortals just can’t see it. Thinking about Mrs Dodds, and how everyone told Percy he was crazy for remembering her. How ableism and insults are just so typical in places like a high school and yet if you’re neurodivergent and remember it years after school, you’re called crazy and obsessed because “it wasn’t that bad” and “you need to move on”. How Nancy Bobofit called Percy special. How Chiron (a centaur) was the only teacher to be actually nice and understanding of Percy, since he too wasn’t a mortal. How mortals can’t see the monsters and swords, how they can’t see the struggles we face and our defense mechanisms/ways to cope. How demigods just trying to defense themselves against monsters are seen as “evil” or a threat by mortals, because they can’t see than the reason they made that thing explode was to survive, than the bump on their car wasn’t actually made on purpose, but by a monster throwing them against it. How the world is dangerous to demigods, how they always have to stay alert, how there was always something off about them growing up. How they might have known they were demigods since a young age, or if not demigods, they knew something was different about them. Like Annabeth, who kept attracting monsters and decided to run away at just 8. She knew, her father knew, her family knew. There was no point in hiding it, no point in pretending it wasn’t there, everyone could see it. Thinking about Percy, how his mom knew, and how she made sure to help Percy no matter what, how she never cared. Thinking about Leo, who didn’t know until he was a teenager, who figured out on his own, who’s childhood was traumatized by his powers, how being a demigod completely ruined what would have been a lovely childhood. Thinking about Percy’s time in school, thinking about the demigods having adhd and dyslexia, thinking about how “their brains are trained for ancient greek/latin” and how they have trouble understanding what everyone else can easily read. Sure, it’s dyslexia, but it can also be something else. Their brains are not trained for neurotypical social cues, that’s not a language their fluent in, they have their own language, which neurotypicals can’t understand. How if they tell someone they’re a demigod, they won’t believe them, and think they’re weird. How it’s not something they can mention unless around the right people (other demigods, gods, mythological creatures, or parents of demigods kids, which in this scenario, is anyone with a connection to neurodiversity). How the parents sometimes are aware their kid is a demigod (like Sally), because they know the other parent was a god, in this scenario, they’re aware of the possibility of a neurodivergent kid because they slept with a neurodivergent person. Except sometimes they don’t know the other parent is a god, they don’t know their kid is a demigod. How someone can have neurodivergent kids, who’s neurodivergency is passed down from their other parent, except the other parent is not diagnosed. How, even still the neurodiversity community, there’s still stigma and stereotypes. How they treated Nico, even if he was just like them, simply because he didn’t fit. How the more visibly demigod you are, if you’re the child of one of the big three, the more monsters you attract, the more dangerous life becomes, how the moment a demigod realizes they're a demigod, they can't hide it, they attract more monsters, there’s no turning back.

Thinking about being a demigod as a metaphor for neurodivergency

[affectionatecorpse]

I'm once again getting overly philosophical over horror movies, so here's a study of the death angels from A Quiet Place as observed by a very enthusiastic animal loving veterinarian.

Every time people talk about death angels, it is, understandably, about how violent they are. These creatures are brutal and merciless, and will tear apart anything that makes too much noise. Hence the title of the movie.

Death angels are frankly terrifying, and show no empathy towards the creatures of the planet they invaded. No living thing is safe from them.

... so here's why they COULD be--

Look. Death angels are simply not suited for our planet. It's a noisy, chaotic place full of noisy, chaotic animals. From humans, to raccoons, to birds, to cats, nearly everything in our world is a potential trigger for a noise sensitive animal such as these.

But that's exactly what they are. Animals. And no one seems to remember that fact. People talk about them as though they themselves are sentient, anthropomorphic monsters, but the way these creatures act mimic many real life animals. Animals that don't belong here, but are trying to survive here. On a noisy planet covered in water, which they despise and cannot swim in.

Death angels are completely blind by nature, as seen in many other creatures such as cavefish, moles, and my personal favourite, the olm. Due to a lack of sight, they very clearly use echolocation in the film, to scan their surroundings and... well, not get dead. But echolocation is far from their only tool, as their ears are the strongest asset they have.

Their ears are INCREDIBLY sensitive. Just the slight ticking of an egg timer when heard from their perspective in the first film, is like a pounding drum in their ear. This is fine in a naturally quiet planet, but if a very subtle tick is that loud, then imagine the rest of the noise. Screaming. Explosions. Crashing. Little toy planes. Holy CRAP, that's gotta hurt.

Sounds that loud would definitely cause extreme hearing problems from pressure over time, and easily result in lifelong illnesses and disabilities such as deafness, infection, and so forth, if not stopped. It's going to be painful. It's literally bursting their ear drums inside their heads, and you can't explain to an animal why it hurts. You cannot rationalise with wildlife about treatment and self care. An injured and scared animal is always going to turn hostile, no matter how docile they may be normally. You can't explain to a lion with a knife in it's belly that you can stop the pain if it just doesn't attack you. You can't explain to a death angel that it needs to go somewhere more isolated instead of just destroying the source of the noise to shut it up.

Going to backtrack here a sec. Remember how I mentioned echolocation being another asset this creature has? Which means the slightest movement, the tiniest breath, can immediately allow you to be seen by it. With ears that good, too? It can see you from ages away. It knows you're there. Which means they DON'T attack for sport.

'Evil' is a concept rarely seen in nature. Yes, a lot of humans can be evil. And yes, many creatures can be too. Animals hunt for sport as well. Cats, for example! Although even then, I wouldn't describe it as evil. Calling the death angels evil implies they're attacking out of malicious intent, which just isn't true. In moments of panic, they'll destroy. But they are fully aware of humans around them.

Humans need to breathe, and can't stay perfectly still very easily. The death angels would be able to see our main cast at several points, even when they're being quiet. They don't attack whenever they locate a sign of life. For example, the scene in the basement. Being that close, whether the water was running or not, that alien absolutely would've heard Evelyn and the baby's sharp breaths. It didn't care. It was clicking at them almost curiously before it heard the bang of the silo, to which it ditched them to stop the sound.

This scene is a great example of why they don't kill for sport. Injured and young animals are especially easy prey for a creature built so strong and nimble. Evelyn is shown to be terrified of the mere presence of this thing, but it never actually does anything in the scene. It moves about. Ignores her movements in the flooding water. Investigates the baby. Clicks curiously at her while she backs away. It moves slowly and on all fours, when we know while aggressive, they will stand up on their hind legs (unless sprinting) and move very fast.

This implies it was in... well, not a submissive position, but a nonthreatening one. It wasn't baring it's teeth (as best it could), it had it's claws tucked up and unused, and was in no way in a primed-to-attack mentality. Until the silo made a loud bang. And even then, it could've quickly sliced up the two in the basement before running off, but it DIDN'T. It just left, without a moment of hesitation.

Let's also acknowledge the anatomy.

This is a carnivore. With sharp teeth for ripping apart prey, sharp claws for defence, and thick armour for protection from it's natural climate, as well as strong, long legs for running, this is absolutely a meat eater. The fact it's so well equipped makes me wonder if their natural prey is just as dangerous as them, which is why they have such tough skin. Or if they themselves have something above them in the food chain.

They seem to be pack animals, as usually others aren't far behind when one is about. Such as the trio by the Abbott house, the few at the docks, the ones by Emet's hideout, and even that group sliding down the building in the Day One clip I keep seeing as a gif. With their knack for running included, I wonder if they function like lions? Blending into their environment back home, clicking to hear prey, then the whole pack going on the chase when their target is vulnerable, in a way.

I got distracted. My point was, in a year, all the bodies from past victims vanished. All those people in the town who were swiped left and right just vanished from the town. They couldn't have decomposed in such short time, which means something moved them when it was safe. Something like a carnivore needing food after it felt comfortable in the silent aftermath. The argument that they do it for sport is one I see all the time, and it's just not true.

Everything needs to eat. Carnivores need to eat. Animals need to protect themselves from suspected danger. They never eat on screen because whenever they're on screen, they're surrounded by noise and are DISTRESSED. Have you ever had a sick pet? Most of the time, it won't eat when it's ill because it's too stressed, uncomfortable or in too much pain. When having their ear drums assaulted, a death angel isn't going to sit down with a cup of tea and a grilled cheese. Also, I won't add it because there's blood, but in the scene with the old man screaming in the woods, after it attacks, you can actually see it go back on all fours and sniff about the aftermath, like a hungry predator catching prey to eat. This was probably the first and currently only on screen proof of my claim.

By all means, not all animals are meant to be tamed. Jordan Peele's Nope said that best. Yet I can't help but wonder about the individual. Every animal is completely unique. Some will tolerate more than others. Due to their realistic nature and the similarities to actual animals, in specific circumstances, could they be befriended?

Anyway keep an eye out for A Quiet Place 4 where someone has a pet one that wears doggy ear protectors and accepts meat in exchange for pets-- /j

[munefille]

Hi! Can you tell more about your hunting angel OC? Like who is he, what is his purpose and just facts about him.

HIII YAYYYY THANK YOU FOR ASKING im going to try to answer this without dumping too much... (oopsies I ended up yapping)

To begin, the hunting angels are a species that he is apart of. They have greater lore in the world they're set in, but to keep it basic they're essentially a type of nocturnal predator that is very, very good at stealth hunting, nicknamed after their uncanny resemblance to the common people's idea of an angel. They're quite rare and incredibly hard to spot, so it's unlikely you would've ever seen one before. In Lorne's introduction post, I mentioned how he struggles to fit in due to his essential albinism; typically members of his species have black wings/hair. This isn't the only reason he's heavily disliked (not even the main one to be honest).

as of right now, his purpose is to watch over you. before meeting you, he lived a fairly reclusive life, sometimes terrorizing close towns by snatching cattle and people who wander too close. becoming wanted in such an inviolable way became an addictive feeling- really, he would do anything to maintain your praise. although he appears to be calm and graceful in your presence, he hides an incredibly violent temper behind it, furthering the fact that you truly have no idea what kind of being you've just attached yourself to. He's not above manipulating you using the status you've placed upon him; he thinks that playing the part of guardian angel is for your sake (he tells himself, knowing he would tear down a village if you didn't need him anymore). If you were to ever find out and react in an unsatisfactory way, your survival isn't guaranteed. At the end of the day, no matter how heavenly his appearance seems, he is still a creature of feral nature.

as for some facts:

he's partially blind in his right eye. lorne's eyesight has been bad from birth, not including the fact that hunting angels in general are sensitive to light. Due to this, he typically keeps his eyes covered.

despite being very large, his bones are hollow, so he's not nearly as dense as you would expect.

he's actually quite a bit taller than the average hunting angel.

Lorne has an older sister and a mother, he wants nothing to do with either of them.

he's never met his father.

his favorite food is deer.

[waokevale]

Some Dwarf headcanons, since they're extremely underrated and deserve more love. (And lore)

I imagine them to be humanoid, but at the same time, very creature-like. Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of them just being like Marvin from Looney tunes and straight up having a pitch black face, but I wanted to play with something different. :>

They have thin fur but it does very little to protect them from the cold.

They have night vision and are nocturnal.

They can see very well in warm light, but struggle seeing shades of green.

They regularly visit floor 100 to keep up their ancestors' tradition of Lava eel fishing.

Speaking of lava eels, I'd like to imagine they eat them whole, like that one quote from the Canon-Friendly Dialogue Expansion mod.

They can survive in insanely hot temperatures and are relatively unharmed by lava, but they struggle a lot during Winter.

They are ectothermic or 'cold-blooded', their internal body temperature is similar to that of a reptile, hence why they're especially uncomfortable with cold temperatures.

Winter is actually when their kleptomania is at its highest peak. Due to the scarceness of supplies and foregables and their need to eat a lot more to keep up their body warmth.

They sleep very little and can't hibernate, so instead they have to rely on eating a lot more food than usual, since they burn energy insanely quickly.

Unlike shadow people, they become independent from their guardian a lot quicker. They mature quicker too, but they live significantly shorter. (Still about 20 times longer than a human though.)

They used to keep many stonefish pets throughout centuries, but gave up on raising them after the 53rd one died. (Yeah those don't exactly live very long...)

They were created in a laboratory, which soon thereafter came to ruin. – They don't remember anything of this time and don't know the whole story of their origins.

They're one of the youngest living members of their species.

They of course consume minerals on regular basis; those are very rich in elements which Smoluanu require to survive.

To be able to easily break open said minerals, their teeth are extremely sharp. Almost as hard as diamonds, although they don't use them very often and would rather grind them up with tools.

Their bone structure is at least 5 times harder than that of a human, except for their skull, which is their only true weak point. Hence why they only need to wear protection for their heads.

They have rat-like paw-pads on both their hands and feet to protect them from rough terrain, though they chose to wear clothes over them.

Part of the reason why Smoluanu wear clothes and helmets is to disguise themselves from their enemy. No shadow fiend has ever seen a Smoluanu without their disguise, or so they say...

If it were to come to that a Smoluanu has been spotted without their helm by a void spirit, they would immediately have to kill them. If it was a group of brutes however and they were cornered, they'd be forced to blow both themself and their enemies up.

Dwarf has been collecting the helms of their fallen brothers and sires and keeping them on a shelf as mementos and as a sign of respect for them. They sometimes bring tokens, which remind them of the fallen person and place them inside their helm.

They hope that one day, they'll be able to recover the lost secrets of their ancestors' technology. That's why they appreciate when the Farmer gives them artifacts. It makes them feel closer to their ancestors' history and adds another puzzle piece to their theory about them.

For now though, they like to tinker and make small gadgets, usually nothing as ambitious as Maru, but they sure are trying. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

That's all I have for now. 👍

[masteri-0]

Just had a sudden thought of Dragon!Shen Yuan (or any creature really) AU, where it was like a normal rite of passage for parents to raise their young (protectively, they're not jerks, just uh, very unsafe for human children, or just humans in general...), then throw them into some sort of extreme trial to prove their strength, when they're deemed ready. Oh, and it was normal, expected, even, to take a go at your parents and try to murder them as a proof of superiority, or smt like that. Doesn't mean they don't love each other! Dragons just have a different way of showing care, that's all. What's a lil play fighting?

Anyw, main point is, SY transmigrates into SQQ with this mentality. Sees his cute little sheep. Falls in love instantly and adopts him. But oh! Oh, the protagonist is so weak, so malnourished! He's gonna nurture him and make sure he's well taken care of! Such a scrawny little sheep can't possibly survive anything! Oh? What's that? He has to push the scrawny baby into the abyss? Well! Makes sense, but that's years into the future, and he has time to make sure they grow up big and strong yet! Cue all the canonical pampering.

I'd imagine during LBH's disciple days, he receives a lot more comments about him going out into the world, and there's less matchmaking from Shizun, since SY believes that girls will flock naturally to him if he's strong enough, so there's also more emphasis on his training, as well as the training of other disciples on the peak. I'm not sure how he'll react to Bai Zhan disciples. Does he comment on their strength and set off the QJP disciples, causing an interpeak war? Does he still hold the same annoyance for them and property damage?

By the time the IAC rolls around, SQQ has already sent his not so little white sheep all over to gain experience, and deemed him ready for his 'coming of age' (close to human adulthood too, he'll do fineee). There is far less tears and hesitation. When the time comes and LBH's seal is broken, SQQ feels the increase in power and the last of his worry dissipates. He basically just looks at his kid, nods, and chucks him in. Dusts off his hands and pats himself on the back. One child down, however many more to go. Oh, they grow up so fast... (Was LBH freaking out during this? Oh well, must be the nerves, he knew the feeling well. But he's read the book and knows what's going to happen. His kid will be okay, and he'll naturally gain confidence after surviving in there!... No one ever said dragons were GOOD at feelings ...)

Of course, it takes some time to adjust to the absence, but there's less grieving and freaking out over his impending doom. Sure, he's judging the original work a little. Limbless and hanging, really? SY much prefers a clean death, thank you. (How he died in his previous life is up to interpretation). But that's besides the point, his favourite is off on his trial, and it's about time to test a few of his other kiddos too (single dad to, uh, how many?)

Shen Qingqiu gains reputation as a sadistic (?) teacher that puts his disciples through dangerous missions seemingly without care, but unlike in the past, he seems to love the kids and dotes on them off-missions, so no one's really sure what's going on with... That. (He's still waiting for one of them, any of them, to try and kill him? Where's the bonding?? Was he not doing enough???)

So when LBH returns, things go uh, differently. SQQ is just here, waiting in anticipation, appreciating how his kid's all grown up, and seeing the scheme to unfold. Safe to say, people are confused. (Him, especially. What do you mean, his kid isn't trying to kill him?? Really, where did he go so wrong in parenting? None of his kids want to bond with him the proper way!!)

(I imagine SY being a better fighter than in canon due to literal trial of fire as a dragonet, and I'm not sure if he would've gotten hit with without a cure at all during the invasion in consideration of this)

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 10.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of forceful behaviour towards women, bad family dynamics

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Sorry, folks! No smut yet, I need some more time to build up the right moment!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's silly to cry about this, isn't it? No, yeah, it's definitely not silly.

Y/n rubs her eyes. She's standing lost in the abandoned tent in the middle of the pieces of Katsuki's tantrum. Slowly, she starts picking up the things Katsuki has thrown across the room.

It will be alright. You can trust Katsuki. Whatever happened today, it's not your fault and Katsuki knows that. He might get irritated easily but he's not unreasonable.

When y/n is done picking up the pieces of the destroyed chair, she's unsure what to do next. She decides to scrub off the paint in the stone hut. There's only cold water this time but y/n grinds her teeth and scrubs it all off. Afterward, she feels a little bit like herself again.

Back in the tent, she loses the clothes as well. She looks for her dress but she can't find it. This upsets her more than it should. After all, it's just a piece of fabric, she tells herself. Then again, it was her mother's dress. The last thing that connected her with her people.

My bag!, she thinks and looks for it where she dropped it the night before. She finds it next to the bed. She dumps the contents on the bed and looks at the things she's brought along. She takes the small knife and strokes over the carvings in the wooden handle. Her father made it for her for her twelfth birthday. He wanted to paint it one day, but he passed before he ever got the chance.

She remembers her father. He was a kind but firm man. He believed in the way of their people. Y/n remembers how he used to take her and her brother to a meadow in the middle of a summer night. He showed the kids how the fireflies light up when you run through the grass. He dared them to catch one and when they did, he explained to them how every creature was created by the great being of things and therefore should be treated with respect. He made y/n let go of the fireflight she caught and they watched as it disappeared into the night sky.

Y/n clutches the knife. She didn't notice how tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she brushes them away. She shakes her head. Thinking about this, won't change the present. Carefully, she places the things back into her bag and hides it beneath the bed, so that they won't be taken away again like her dress.

She slips out of the skimpy clothes she was put into this morning and puts on the clothes Katsuki gave her yesterday. Also, she wraps a blanket around her since she's planning to go outside. I'm going to look for Katsuki, she determines.

~*~*~*~*~

It's strange walking around the village without Katsuki by her side. Y/n feels a lot more vulnerable without him. Again, there are only men outside the tents and they give her strange looks. She's sure they are talking about her, too.

She tries to shake the thought off when she slips in between two tents to get out of sight. Suddenly, a cold hand grabs her arm.

„A-are you new? When did they bring you in?“, a scared female voice says next to her.

Y/n feels instant relief. Finally, someone who understands her! And a woman too! She turns around to the voice and is instantly stunned.

There's a woman standing at the entrance of a tent. She's about y/n's height. The woman is pale as if she barely sees the sunlight. She looks sickish in a haggard way. Her state is nothing but alarming to y/n.

„Yes, I am. I just arrived yesterday. Are-“, y/n tells her and before y/n can ask her if she's alright, the woman's grip on her arm tightens.

„Did he do it already? The man that took you? Is he near? Is he looking for you?“, the woman asks frantically. There is fear in her eyes.

„Uhm, what do you mean?“, y/n replies uncertainly.

„You need to get away!“, the woman tells her, now grabbing both of y/n's arms. „If he hasn't taken you, you might still have a chance!“

The woman's eyes are ripped open widely and y/n can see how bloodshot they are. She mustn't have slept for days. Y/n tries to wiggle out of the woman's hold.

„I-i'm fine. Thanks for your concern, but-“, y/n tries to shake her off.

„Nadia!“, a voice barks from the side y/n came from. A big, bulky man walks their way. His face looks angry. He continues to speak loudly in his language. The woman winces and lets go of y/n. She quickly retreats back into the tent, leaving y/n alone outside.

The man gives y/n a glance before disappearing into the tent. His loud voice can be heard in the inside. By the tone of his voice, he must be scolding the woman. Y/n isn't sure if that's her cue to disappear like the woman said.

Eventually, the man comes back outside. He doesn't look as angry as before anymore. He says something to y/n that she doesn't understand.

„U-uhm, I'm a friend of Katsuki, I guess. Do you know where he is?“, she asks him and the man looks annoyed. He throws his arms into the air in frustration and rambles something to himself.

Y/n straightens her posture a bit at tells him in a determined voice: „Katsuki“.

The man gives her an uncertain look. Then he grabs her shoulder and makes a gesture to follow him. Y/n does so. The man drags her through half of the village, stopping here and there to talk to people. Y/n can hear the word „Katsuki“ quite often, so she guesses he is asking around where Katsuki is. Eventually, the man makes her walk quite a while outside of the settlement and y/n starts doubting her decision to follow him. What if the woman was right? What if that guy really has something bad on his mind?

The man leads her into a small gorge. Y/n can see how smoke rises from the inside, so she guesses humans must be there as well.

Turns out her guess was kind of wrong. The deeper they get into the gorge, the more clearly it becomes what lives her: dragons. When the first comes into sight, y/n walks a bit closer to the man in front of her. More and more dragons come into sight. Golden ones, blue ones, green ones. Y/n thinks the deep black ones look the scariest. She tries to avoid eye contact with all of them. Also, she wonders if Katsuki's great red one is here. Actually, she'd be really relieved to see the great red one again right now. At least one familiar face, or snout, around here.

The man leads her all the way in, where a small fire is lit. More men sit around it drinking and laughing.

The men cheer and gesture for the man to join him but he declines with a wave of his hand. He says something to them and y/n hears Katsuki's name again. She peeks behind the man and sees Katsuki sitting among the men around the fire. When Katsuki spots her, he immediately gets up.

Katsuki exchanges a few words with the man before said man turns around to leave. Katsuki grabs her shoulder and gives her an angry look. Seems as if he's not too happy that I'm here, y/n thinks.

The men laugh and say something to Katsuki to which he gives them a snarky reply. Katsuki leads her to the fire and motions for her to sit down. Y/n does so and wraps the blanket around her a little bit more tight. The man called Kirishima asks Katsuki something and points at y/n. Katsuki shrugs indifferently.

Kirishima fills a mug with something that's been brewing over the fire and hands the mug to y/n. Y/n takes a sniff. It's definitely alcohool. She takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised.

„Mead!“ she exclaims. The men cheer and raise their cups to her. Y/n does so too and takes another sip. The mead is sweet and rich in her mouth.

Kirishima laughs and says something to her. Y/n smiles. Somehow, this feels comfortable. Like when her people sat around the fire at night drinking some hot mead to keep warm. It's the time when stories and memories are shared. Y/n decides there's no harm in sharing a memory of her own, even if these strange men won't understand her.

„You know“, she tells Kirishima, „My aunt used to make mead together with my father“. Kirishima takes another sip from his cup while listening.

„Of course, you need honey for that.“, y/n continues, „So my aunt and my dad went to the woods to find wild honey for their mead. Unfortunately for them, there also was a bear looking for honey too. When my aunt saw the bear, she screamed so loudly that even the bear was frightened, and in his shock, the bear knocked down the bee nest. Of course, the bee attacked my aunt and my dad and they ran home to our camp, screaming the entire way. I've never heard my father scream like that. Like a little girl.“

Y/n is giggling at the end of the story and has to wipe the side of her eye. When she's done, she notices that the rest of the men fell silent and were watching her intently. Suddenly, she's a bit embarrassed for rambling out a story like that.

„Anyways“, she says and raises her cup, „Cheers!“. Quickly she takes another sip and the men start laughing. Y/n feels incredibly embarrassed. A few of the men clap Katsuki's back who also looks embarrassed. Y/n lowers her head. She didn't want to embarrass Katsuki with her stupid story.

Suddenly, she feels Katsuki slide closer to her. He puts an arm around her tucking her safely into his side. Y/n peers up at him. He keeps his eyes fixed on his peers and y/n snuggles a bit deeper into his side. At least he doesn't seem mad now anymore. She keeps slurping her mead until it's empty. Also, she surely feels the buzz. This mead is a lot stronger than the one her aunt and father brewed.

She watches Katsuki for a while who also seems to be done with his cup. Eventually, she pulls at one of his necklaces trying to get his attention. Katsuki lets go of her and looks down at her. He mumbles something which y/n guess is something like a „what?“. She should write that word down later.

„Where's your dragon?“, she asks him. When Katsuki's brows only furrow, she points at a dragon and says „Dragon?“ and then points at him. It seems as if a light goes up in Katsuki's head. He says something to his men and then gets up taking y/n's hand. They leave the fire together and Katsuki leads her to a cave entrance. He gestures for her to stay behind him and y/n does as she's told. The last thing she wants is to wake up an angry dragon. She peeks behind Katsuki and sees the enormous form of the great red right in front of them. Katsuki gestures for her to step beside him.

„Drami“, Katsuki tells her and y/n looks at him uncertainly. Is that the word for dragon in his language?

„Drami.“, y/n repeats and the great red raises its head. Y/n watches with wide eyes how the dragon moves its big head and nudges Katsuki.

„Oi!“, Katsuki exclaims and tries to push the dragon away. Y/n has to giggle at the sight. Is this how she looks when she tries to push Katsuki away but he doesn't move at all?

The great red notices her as well and moves towards her. Fear strikes her even though she knows that the beast probably won't hurt her. The dragon nudges her as well but in contrast to Katsuki, y/n wasn't prepared for the force of the nudge. She stumbles and falls over. There's a grumbling sound in the dragon's throat and she's sure the beast is laughing at her.

„Hey!“, she complaints and sits up.

Suddenly, there are whistling sounds in the air. Then, y/n gets attacked by all sides. Little dragons nudges her from all sides. Pulling on her blanket and hair. It's not painful and when the first shock wears off, y/n has to laugh and she tries to push the little dragon off of her. When she looks up, her eyes meet Katsuki's who have a mischievous gleam in it. He laughs at her and y/n sticks out her tongue to him while fending off the lizards around her.

There's a deeper grumble in the air and the dragons let go off y/n. They rush back to the great red. The small ones have the same color as the great red and when they climb onto it, they become invisible. No wonder y/n didn't spot them before. Katsuki chuckles and helps her up.

„That was rude.“, y/n tells him and tries to rearrange her messy hair. Katsuki picks up the blanket and puts it around y/n's shoulders again. He ruffles her hair and says something to the great red. He gestures for y/n to follow him.

„Bye, Drami!“, y/n tells the great red and quickly follows Katsuki outside.

~*~*~*~*~

After Katsuki says goodbye to his men, he walks back to the village with y/n. She looks ridiculous, he thinks. She lost the nice clothes picked out for her and instead carries this ratched blanket around with her. Is she really that cold? Katsuki and his men walk around shirtless half of the time and even the women in his tribe wear more revealing clothes than the women from the kingdom. It makes him wonder if his mother might be right about y/n.

They walk back in silence and Katsuki notices how uncomfortable y/n feels. He can't blame her. She probably hasn't got a clue about what happened earlier today. He wants to feel sorry for her but can't find it in him to do so. She should man up a bit, he thinks to himself. Otherwise, she will never be accepted around here.

Doubt gnaws at the inside of his mind. He's been replaying the conversation with his mother again and again. The truth is that Mitsuki's right. Y/n isn't strong enough for his people. Physically and probably also mentally. She doesn't fit in. Hell, she doesn't even speak their language. Fine, that's something that can be tackled. Actually, Katsuki already decided that he'll send for Deku. That damn scholar can make himself useful and teach y/n their language.

And yet, Katsuki knows that he needs a strong mate by his side. One that stands strongly and proudly next to him as the leader of his people. Having a weak mate and weak offspring does not help his position. In contrast, it might give people a reason to doubt him. And who knows what the future holds.

So far the king Todoroki turned a blind eye to the dragonblood tribe's raid on his grounds. It's easier to let them take a few women than to fight his men. But how long will that go well? Katsuki already got the news that the king is stocking up his army. His tribe can handle a few strikes of retaliation. However, if it escalates to a full-blown war things look differently. The plague already decimated their numbers and with almost no women in the tribe to even out the number, the future looks grim.

His men did little to cheer him up. While they tried to support his choice, they also gave insight into their own homes. Comparing y/n to the few women they've brought home and mated. Denki's mate passed only after a few months. She lost weight rapidly after arriving in the village and one nasty cold later, the woman completely withered away. Not enough time to give him an heir. Kirishima's position is not rosy either. While his mate is still alive, the woman is terrified of him and that even though Kirishima is probably the softest of the bunch. The other men urge him to just take her since the tribe needs children and that's what the women are brought in for but Kirishima is too kind of a man to touch her against her will.

Kirishima doesn't speak it out loud but Katsuki knows how disgusted the man felt about himself after he mated her for the first time. Other men are not as docile as Kirishima. They take their new mates as they see fit. They think that if their new mate doesn't find it in themselves to accommodate the situation, at least they can submit to them and fulfill their duty as a mate.

Katsuki is so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice how they arrived back at his tent. Only when y/n stops walking, he looks up. One of his mother's ladies-in-waiting is standing in front of his tent.

„Your mother wishes to speak to you. She's inside.“, the woman informs him. Katsuki gives her a nod and puts a hand on y/n's lower back pushing her inside.

„What do you want?“, Katsuki asks his mother upon entering the tent. His mother sits on the remaining chair with her arms and legs crossed.

„Did you mate her yet?“, she poses a counterquestion.

„Obviously not.“, Katsuki tells her. He gives y/n a side-eye and he notices how tense the smaller woman got. Clearly, she must fear his mother by now.

His mother rubs her temple.

„Katsuki, I didn't mean to upset you earlier.“, his mother states. Katsuki lets go of y/n and sits down on one of the trunks.

„I know that.“, he mumbles.

Mitsuki watches as her son uses a knife to scratch off dirt from the underside of his shoe. Meanwhile, y/n stands at the entrance of the room feeling absolutely lost. She feels like she shouldn't be here for this conversation. She tries to make eye contact with Katsuki who keeps his focus on his shoes. Mitsuki sighs loudly making y/n flinch.

„Katsuki, I'm glad you want to take on a mate. I've been afraid you'd refuse one completely. I'm just worried about your future, our future.“, Mitsuki points out. Her voice isn't exactly soft but probably as soft as the former chief can be.

Katsuki stabs the trunk with his knife.

„Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm worried, too?“, he barks at her.

Mitsuki gives her son a pointed look.

„I know you are. Which is more the reason why I don't understand... this.“, Mitsuki says and vaguely gestures towards y/n as if she's a piece of furniture rather than a real person standing in the room.

Looking back at it, y/n doesn't know why that was the reason to get her angry but it does. Y/n decides then and there that she doesn't like the woman who clearly is related to Katsuki. Why does she always pretend like I'm not there, y/n thinks. It makes her angry. It's rude. Also, y/n is pretty sure that his woman has nothing nice to say about her.

Katsuki looks at his mother annoyedly.

„What do you want me to say? I've chosen her. Don't you trust my reasons?“, he tells her.

„Do you trust your reasons? Because if you had, wouldn't you have mated her by now?“, Mitsuki strikes back.

Katsuki feels more and more irritated by each passing second.

„That's none of your business. Or do you also plan to check how often I fuck my mate?“, he bites back.

Mitsuki gives him a piqued look and shakes her head in disgust.

„Seriously, Katsuki. What the hell are you thinking?“, Mitsuki asks him.

Katsuki pushes himself off the trunk and ruffles his own hair roughly.

„I don't know, okay? I met her and we connected. I want her.“, he tells his mother.

„Aha, you want her. If you want her, then take her and pass her on, or let her go.“, Mitsuki replies.

Katsuki gives her an angry look.

„She's different from the other women we brought here.“, he tries to argue.

„In how far?“

Katsuki throws his arms up in the air.

„For one, she's not afraid of us or our dragons. Actually, I think Drami might like her. She's a fighter. I saw her fight a bandit with her bare hands. She can hunt, or at least read tracks to a certain degree. She can treat wounds and she picks up on things quite quickly. I'm sure that if that damn Deku teaches her, she will be speaking...“, Katsuki starts to ramble.

„Stop.“, Mitsuki says coldly and holds up a hand.

„I don't need to hear you sing praise to this woman. Nothing you said proves to me that she will be a good mate to you. You describe basic skills that everyone should have. If you think that...“, his mother continues.

„Can I say something about this?“, y/n enters the conversation. She's sick that she's forced to observe from the sidelines, especially considering that this is a conversation that's clearly about her. Y/n doesn't care that neither Katsuki nor this woman understands her. It's time to give both of them a piece of her mind.

Y/n stems her arm into her hips and points at Mitsuki.

„First of all, who do hell do you think that you are? I don't give a shit if you're their queen or something. My people believe that all humans are equals to one another. Therefore I can't stand how you talk about me pretending I'm not there. Secondly, I might not understand what you say but I'm sure you say very mean things about me. Did nobody teach you basic manners? Like seriously, at least have the decency to talk shit about me behind my back. But making me understand what you think of me without speaking my language? Wow, you must really be determined on making me feel like crap.“, y/n tells Mitsuki while holding eye contact with the woman. Mitsuki looks unpleasantly surprised by y/n's outburst.

„And now to you, mister!“, y/n says turning to Katsuki.

„You drag me all the way to your people, make me do stupid ceremonies that I don't understand and then you let his woman humiliate me in front of all of these people? And after all this, you take me back here just to throw a temper tantrum. What are you? Five? I honestly don't give a fuck about what that woman's issue is. What I do care about is how you handle it. And you're not handling it very successfully, dare I say. You're handling it like a manchild. Drinking your problems away with your buddies only to have another argument with her all over again? Seriously, I start to doubt if I made the right choice in trusting you!“, y/n gives Katsuki an earful.

Katsuki stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Y/n takes a deep breath. She straightens her posture.

„That being said, I exclude myself from this conversation.“, she tells Katsuki proudly with her head held high.

Then, she turns around and stomps outside the tent. Mitsuki stares after her just as perplexed as her son does.

Outside, y/n is fuming. This whole situation frustrates her. Because people talk and decide things over her head. Because she has no way to take any form of action. This time, she doesn't cry.

It's time to find that Nadia woman and get some more information out of her, y/n thinks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456

@gold24fish @notsaelty

[I think I can't tag anymore people, sorry! Unless anybody knows what I'm doing wrong...]

[effemar]

Sorry for talking about Cornelius Hickey from hit series AMC’s The Terror (2018) again but I think it’s really overlooked how Hickey serves an additional narrative purpose in his existence as a metatextual threat.

Hickey in many ways is there to be an ideological contrast to the “good” characters in the show in a way that’s really interesting. All through the series there’s this conflict between morality and survival, or as Hickey puts it, “your morals and your practicals.” Assisted suicide, survival cannibalism, et cetera. But the point is, Hickey has already resolved that internal conflict. For a lot of the other characters, this is perhaps the first time they’ve been in a genuine survival situation, where they’ve had to confront what they’re willing to sacrifice for the sake of survival. But Hickey has already been there. From before they even set sail, the stakes have been life and death. He was willing to kill someone to be on this boat. Everything else is small potatoes. As he says to Billy in one of his first crucial scenes, “there are worse things than being lashed.”

Hickey is, in many ways, perfectly suited to the landscape they find themselves in. Other characters want to get back to England. Hickey wanted to get away from England. The principles that other people hold, relics from their homeland, are what Hickey was trying to escape. And he makes a point of calling these principles into question. What’s the difference, really, between a dog and any other creature you kill for food? What makes a lieutenant better than a caulker’s mate? It’s all in your head.

And it’s not just that he resents them, though he does. He actively thinks they’re dumb! He sees principles as a weakness in other people. It’s why he’s surprised when Mr. Goodsir sees through his attempt to gather information about Silna. He thinks ‘generous’ is a synonym for ‘stupid’. It’s why he’s amused when Irving recommends watercolors, when Billy tells him he’s going to be better and not have sex with him anymore. It’s silly to him.

And to some degree he's right. We, as a modern audience, snort when Irving tells Hickey he should stop being gay and do “climbing exercises” instead. The things that seem so morally relevant and important to them are completely arbitrary. The thing is, Hickey sees killing people the same way. Why is it okay to kill people in some circumstances and not others? Tozer shot Morfin, and it was okay then! Why is it only bad when he does it? When he’s about to be hanged, and Crozier makes a point to say he caused the deaths of women and children, and an officer, Hickey ROLLS HIS EYES. Because it doesn’t make a difference to him.

And this concept is emphasized very clearly by the plot, not just Hickey. When Hickey kidnaps Silna, we as an audience know Crozier was about to do essentially the same thing. “Bring her in for questioning” is politer than “kidnap”, but it’s not like it makes a difference to her. It’s just the principle of the thing.

To be clear, I don't think this makes Hickey himself secretly right or anything. Because despite what he tells himself, he does have morals. He isn't the free, enlightened being he thinks he is, who has shrugged off the burden of England's social mores. He carries those ideas with him. He does the same thing, fundamentally, as the people he derides. The English idea of the Arctic as a place to be explored and conquered, a tabula rasa where he can start anew, free of rules and morals, is an inaccurate one. It has consequences the same as any other place, and is subject to principles, even if they're not ones he recognizes. He completely disregards the Netsilik people as a source of help not only for his own selfish reasons, but because I think he truly subscribes to the English belief in their "savagery".

He has taken an idea and mistaken it for the truth. And that belief in his own lack of blind spots, the belief that he alone is able to see the world as it really is, is ultimately his downfall. It doesn't occur to him that the Tuunbaq is anything but a sophisticated tool, let alone something that has rules and principles beyond his comprehension. It doesn't occur to him that there might be consequences for his actions beyond the immediate. It doesn't occur to him that Mr. Goodsir would choose his principles over his own life, would choose to do something that has an impact beyond himself. For Hickey, those things are unimaginable.

Anyway character of all time. Monster that eats souls, rat king extraordinaire, guy with delusions of godhood, living manifestation of hubris. Cornelius Hickey you will ALWAYS be famous.

[alllgator-blood]

Okay I promise my next post will be the angst comic part 4 but FIRST. THE ONE AND ONLY THING I SHIP

LITERALLY THE SECOND PERSON WHO GUESSED THE PAIRING GOT IT CORRECT??? THAT WAS FAST. This is a situation where I have to go "okay hear me out" because it makes 0 sense to anyone but me. This is really long and very dependent on my au comic nobody but me has read, but the TL;DR is:

I feel like they'd be a good pairing because shamura loves to learn but doesn't care about material goods, and mystic seller is used to all gods talking to them only BECAUSE they offer material goods. So when somebody actually wanted to know about *them* personally and what it's like to be a weird angel thing, the two established a bond. Also they're both agender and most likely asexual AND don't seem to be socially aware despite being ancient wise beings that know seemingly everything, so they understood each other like instantly.

I have a lot of sketches of them hanging out but here's a shitpost sketch thing I made AAAAAGES ago

Okay so from an in-game standpoint, mystic seller pops up to tell you how the post-game works with purgatory and all that, and introduces the purged bosses. Really ratau could've done that as the established Tutorial Guy, or even narinder but there IS the chance that you killed both of them (lol) so mystic seller is the unkillable, all-knowing angel that shows up to say "you suck at killing people. The bishops are trapped in purgatory, you know. You should probably do something about that".

But from like a CHARACTER standpoint what do they stand to gain? They're not even from your dimension so why should they care, they're just here for your god tears? From the dialogue about the bishops we can see that they don't really give a shit about any of them, EXCEPT! SHAMURA? Mystic seller doesn't feel emotions like "our kind" does but one of the only times they do, it's to say it's a shame what happened to shamura. They also say they didn't barter with them much, because they "needed little".

SO THAT HAD ME THINKING. My au comic (which is hundreds of sketched panels and the full thing will never see the light of day unless I post it unfinished. Eugh) is about shamura going around chronicling everything they witnessed during the time they were alive, and they notice everyone is like...selfish. Trying to be the last god standing. Really obsessed with trinkets and charms, so some of the gods just go around harvesting relics from the other gods and using their powers to survive a little longer. Shamura has visions of the future of siblings they don't know they have yet, so they try to be friendly with the rest of the pantheon to form a family and it always bites them in the ass, so they have to kill them.

Eventually they end up with all these fuckin god tears and they're thinking "what do I even do with these? Nobody wants them and everyone has them", and BOOM. MYSTIC SELLER JUMPSCARE. They do the whole introduction where they say they have loot in exchange for god tears, shamura just drops off the tears and is like "I don't care about trinkets, bye" and the seller is like. What Thy Fuck. Because every other god is pretty adamant on getting something good in exchange for the tears. So they call them back and ask if there's ANYTHING at all they want. And shamura, being the self-proclaimed wisdom god, just asks the seller to talk about themself for a while, who's just like okkaaayyy?? Nobody else ever asked what it's like to be a bizarre circle headed angelic creature that collects magical bits and pieces, but shamura LOVES to learn, and the two bonded that way. Shamura would bring the mystic seller god tears, the seller would tell them a story, they'd write it down to put in their archives and the conversations eventually got more personal when the stories started to run out. They both realized they don't understand how other people work, but they knew how *each other* worked so they could kinda learn how to function as normal people with each other's observations.

When I say I ship them I mostly mean like a QPP situation because I think they'd be good partners in the most autistic asexual way possible, where they don't make out sloppy style or outright say "I love you", but they have an understanding of one another that doesn't apply to anyone else really. They don't have to rely on conventional relationship stuff to know the other one cares deeply for them in the most nonverbal, oddly specific way possible. I know shamura's the smart one but I really feel like that extends to everything except understanding how people work, hence all the stuff that happened with narinder and the rest of the family. So finding someone else outside the pantheon who is quite literally inhuman, otherworldly, genderless and uninterested in Carnal Desire would definitely make them feel the closest thing to romantic love that they can. Also, since mystic seller lets the gods name them, shamura named them "sunshine" after hearing one of their followers singing that "you are my sunshine" song to the person they loved the most. I always liked how shamura has their little moon crown and the mystic seller is depicted as the sun in some of the art? They go together well is what I'm saying and I'm kinda surprised nobody has done anything of them yet.

I WILL SAY I have angst planned for them once I do the introductory comics, it has to do with how narinder's imprisonment happened literally right in front of where mystic seller sets up shop, so canonically it's safe to assume they watched shamura get lobotomized in real time :')

But for now...I must go back to kallamar angst cause I've been putting off posting this part. It gets very mentally ill very quickly so I needed to balance it out with fluff......

[pretzel-box]

Hallow! I saw that you write angst for Pressure and I have an angsty request in mind (♥´∀｀)／

Can I request sebby with a reader (doesn't need to be romantic) that's another test subject like him but with the sole purpose of having rapid regeneration (can regenerate their arms or even the lower half of their body) + can't be killed with brute force.

They're relatively weak in terms of strength (like average human strength) compared to the rest of the creatures in the HB + they're clumsy and cowardly which annoys sebastian.

After being brutally 'killed' countless times by anglers, wall dwellers, accidents, or whatnot they ultimately couldn't take it anymore and breaks down with sebastian reluctantly or trying to calm them down.

Ehe that's it for the request!! If you don't accept the request it's totally fine! Either way I hope you have a great day/night (*・∀・*)Ｖ

Tags: Mention of previous deaths, anxiety attacks, comfort, Sebastian is mean, gn!reader

Words: 1,1k

Sebastian prowled the dark hallways of the facility, his senses sharp and alert. The place reeked of damp metal and fear, a maze of endless corridors and hidden dangers. This labyrinth-like part of the building was where they kept them—test subjects like him, twisted by their experiments, forced to endure unimaginable pain and suffering. Most were broken shells of who they once were, but some, like you, were still holding on, trying to survive in this nightmarish existence.

He heard a soft sound behind him—a faint, hurried shuffle of footsteps. He paused, turning his head slightly. There you were, a few paces behind him, your eyes wide and frantic as you glanced around, clearly terrified. He got you during the lockdown, not knowing what made you special till Pandemonium got you badly. Then he figured out your prized ability, turning you into a life bait for him to distract monsters.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was your clumsiness or your cowardice that annoyed him more.

“Keep up,” he growled over his shoulder, his voice a low, rumbling hiss that echoed off the cold walls. “And stop making so much noise. You’ll attract them.”

You nodded quickly, trying to step more quietly but stumbling over your own feet. You had always been clumsy, your movements awkward and hesitant. You were nothing like the other test subjects—those grotesque monsters with their freakish strength and horrifying abilities. You were just… normal. Well, except for the fact that you could regenerate almost any injury in a matter of seconds.

Sebastian watched as you tried to steady yourself, a small sigh escaping his lips. You were weak in every way that mattered here—physically frail, easily frightened. But he couldn’t deny that your ability was useful. He had seen you get torn apart by Anglers, crushed by falling debris, even once sliced in half by a ventilation blade. And every time, no matter how gruesome the sudden action was, you came back, good as new, your body knitting itself back together like nothing had happened.

But the downside was that no matter how brutal your death, no matter how agonizing the pain, you would always regenerate. Always come back, only to face it all over again.

“Sebastian, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you glanced around the dark corridor. “I… I don’t think we should go this way. I heard something. Something big.”

“Of course you did,” Sebastian muttered under his breath. He knew you were scared. You were always scared. But in this place, fear was a weakness, and weakness could get you killed. “We don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “Stay close, and keep quiet.”

You swallowed hard, nodding again as you followed him down the hallway, your hands trembling at your sides. Every shadow seemed to stretch and move, every distant sound a threat. You had been killed so many times now, in so many horrific ways, that the fear of dying again was starting to consume you. The pain, the terror—it was becoming too much to bear.

Sebastian could sense your growing panic, could hear your breathing quickening with each step. He clenched his jaw. He didn’t have time to babysit you. But something in him—something he couldn’t quite understand—kept him from abandoning you. Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was something else.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash up ahead, followed by a series of guttural, inhuman growls. You froze, your eyes widening in terror.

“Sebastian…” you whimpered, taking a step back. “Please… I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He turned to you, his expression hard. “You don’t have a choice,” he said bluntly. “None of us do, quit whining. Now keep moving.”

But you didn’t move. You just stood there, your whole body shaking as a certain fear paralyzed you from the very inside. And then, to his surprise, you sank to your knees, your face contorted in anguish.

“I can’t… I can’t keep doing this,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you start hyperventilating. “I’ve been… I’ve been killed so many times… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t… I can’t keep coming back, only to die again and again.”

Sebastian stared at you, his mind racing. He wasn’t good at this—at comforting people, at dealing with emotions. But seeing you like this, so broken, so utterly defeated… it stirred something in him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He knelt down beside you, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was afraid he might scare you even more. “Hey,” he said quietly, his voice softer than before. “Look at me.”

You didn’t move, didn’t even seem to hear him. You were lost in your own misery, your own despair. He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. You flinched at his touch, but you didn’t pull away.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, his tone more gentle now, almost hesitant. “I know it feels like there’s no end to this… but you’re still here. You’re still alive. That means something.”

You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying. “But what’s the point?” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “What’s the point of surviving if all I do is suffer? If all I do is die over and over again?”

Sebastian felt a pang of guilt at your words. He had been through his own share of torment, had seen things that would haunt him forever. But at least he could fight back. At least he could make them pay for what they did to him. You didn’t have that luxury. You were stuck in this endless cycle of pain and death, with no way to escape it.

He sighed, his hand still resting on your shoulder. “I don’t have the answers,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I do know this… you’re not alone. I’m here. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not if I can help it.”

You stared at him, your expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Why?” you asked softly. “Why do you care?”

He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because… you remind me of something. Something I lost a long time ago.”

You didn’t know what he meant, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something raw and vulnerable—that made you believe him. Maybe he did care. Maybe, in this place of darkness and despair, you had found a glimmer of hope.

Sebastian stood up, offering you his hand. “Come on,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “We need to keep moving. But I promise… I won’t let you go through this alone.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You were still scared, still shaken, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a small spark of courage. Maybe you could keep going. Maybe you could survive this, after all.

As you walked beside him, you could feel the fear still gnawing at your insides. But with Sebastian at your side, it didn’t seem quite so overwhelming.

[r0-boat]

Whb Omegaverse AU headcanons

Reader is an omega for this specific post! Because all of you are bottoms/j

Nsfw

Cw: dubcon heavy dubcon, implications of noncon, Omegaverse dynamics.

Oh no

Being an omega in whb is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. You already need demon cum to survive now you just need demon dick to survive your heat. I don't think all devils and hell are just not going to take advantage of you during your heat where your vulnerable and wanting.

Devils are in a weird middle ground where they are neither Alpha, Omega nor Beta But the same time all of them. It's weird because they have a completely different scent that feels like an alpha however can also have a calming scent as an omega. They have Alpha ruts and Omega heats. And they can mark anyone as their mate as they please. They can have multiple mates but a lot of devils only choose one.

To prevent you from getting mated you have to put on a indestructible bite proof collar. It has the power to withstand Lucifer with his vampiric teeth so I think you're safe. Especially because demons have sharper teeth.

Fear for your safety in Abaddon. Like never go outside without your heat suppressants it's not like that will really work because devils will still smell you even with suppressants. And only Kings can withstand the scent of a delicious human in heat. Other devils even sometimes nobles are weak to the scent. Good luck protecting yourself when one of them is in that rut. I guess you're only other option is just always have a trusted devil with you when you go outside.

By the way demon ruts are far more intense than human Alpha. Like I'm talking fighting in the street. Starting brawls in Bars. Yes Kings can hold back when they can smell you in heat but that doesn't mean they do. They're demons, and that means extra devil energy for you. :) You're done for.

Demons from Abyssos and Abaddon are the only exceptions if they sense that you're in heat they becomes a feral animal, hell bent on marking you. You better run from Beel and Bael

Bael is an interesting case. To appear kingly he tries so hard to reject the animalistic drive to pounce on you. And he actually tries to avoid you. Until he can't take the tightness in his pants anymore.

Beel will break into your room through the window to have his way with you like the creature of the night he is.

The Kings start a passive aggressive war on each other by scenting. At first it was just a way to protect you and ward off angels. Then Levi the last meeting scent it you right in front of Satan Even though he just did that, Levi even went the extra mile making sure he covered up every spot Satan scented. The next time you ever visit him he will make sure you REEK of his scent.

On a lighter note I'm pretty sure everything would be so endearing to you when you're starting to nest. Demons would send you gifts of the finest material to make into your nest. To any devil it would be an honor to add his clothing into your nest because you just simply think They smell good. Even though you'll try to nest and secluded spot You're a little nesting spot will be found out and protected like their lives depended on it. Driving away any other devils that are too persistent or angels also drawn to your scent.

Devils with strong provider instinct like mammon would be worsen during the heat. These devils are the ones giving you gifts. Especially food.

Satan is growling and barking being your little guard dog. Anyone touches you They are dead. He inspects any gifts you are given. Beel it's already in your nest (He's ready when you are) Levi is about to bust a blood vessel just about to throw all these demons out. He knows that you need to be alone and only you can decide who can come in to your own nest (a rare moment of clarity for Levi?!)

Lucifer is trying so hard to hold back to your pheromones. Angels can smell them but they cannot feel the pull of your irresistible scent. Now that he has a fallen angel and the devil He is not quite used to smelling you. And he is trying to resist.

Minhyeok is an alpha, and he's been getting by on his ruts by just running into the stuff that smells like you, your underwear your dirty clothes, That damn chair. Now that you're gone he's starting to go through shampoo and lotion you use. Ruts are getting harder and harder to go through and he needs you so bad. Before you were taken to hell He always subconsciously thought you were his omega even though he hasn't mated you yet. Since you always smelled like him which he liked because deterred alphas.