#this story isn't about black and white it's about the two swirling together to make gray

[naffeclipse]

You know, there is something I keep thinking about the hunter that won't leave my mind.

In the werewolf chapter, as they tell the story with the demon, they say "I used to love cryptids".

Thing is. I feel like they really still do. Like it's a love hate relationship, except they don't seem to have much hate either. Yes, they have the very firm believe that Cryptids are dangerous and *must* be dealt with, or innocent people will pay the price, but their approach really doesn't seem very personal (and this despite the fact that it was the constant fear of the demon that put them in this path). Their main motivation is not to kill, it's to protect. They refer to a lot of cryptids as if they were rabid animals rather than creatures with actual thoughts and understanding (which they don't think they have), with evil and pain being an instinct to the cryptids instead of a reasoning, even feeling a bit of compassion for the vampires at the start, offering to let them rest rather than live with a cursed existence. And that's just about the hunts themselves!

We see time and time again how they love filling their life with cryptid merch and how it brings them joy! The novelty T-shirts, all the little decorations in their airstream, the fact that the first series they wanted to show Sun and Moon is Casper, the friendly ghost! Not only that, they are so enthusiastic about the real life cryptids almost from a scientific standpoint! They love it when Sun and Moon ask about this or that creature, because then they get to share! They get to talk about all they know about them and what is an effective way to deal with them!

If they stopped loving cryptids, I swear the way in which they act about it wouldn't be as excited. More like Vanessa seems to be, which from the small tidbits the hunter has provided, seems to be much more aggressive, much more personal, and much more filled with hate for all these creatures. Their expression darkening when talking about them instead of lighting up.

Just a small thing I find interesting about y/n, since they claim that their love for cryptids is over and yet there is so much about their choices that says otherwise!

*rattles you* Yes! A thousand times yes! I'm gonna smooch ya on your big beautiful brain *mwah*

Y/N thinks that if they're scared of something, they can no longer love it, but that's not the truth. They love cryptids, but it's been so terribly overshadowed by the fear of their first encounter and the subsequential night terrors and other side effects that they think they've lost that joy. Like a child growing up and seeing the world for the first time, their view on cryptids—the one thing they have been fascinated about and chasing for as long as they can remember—has been tainted by harshness and reality. The idealization is gone, but not the love. They have a difficult time acknowledging that something can be both good and bad, bring both joy and horror, and that's okay. That's something to work through. Y/N can have both a love and a fear for cryptids.

Perhaps a certain cryptid will allow Y/N to understand that.

[daringtiger-creates]

Felt like posting a bit of a teaser to the story related to “Letters”

I posted a 1 shot that talked about the contents of Aziraphale’s letters except one; Aziraphale’s feather. I wrote this when I wasn’t feeling the greatest so please do excuse my choice of words and extra errors.

Crowley sat down on the bed and closely watched the entrancing magic dance around the white feather again. The Holy magic glowing a bright yellow, almost white, swirled and gave off soft orbs that faded away while the Unholy magic was a dark purple, almost black, swirled around and reached out tendrils that looked like they were trying to catch the fading orbs. Crowley found it hypnotizing to watch, two magics not seeking to destroy the other, but working to protect what they held within. Like him and Aziraphale, a stray thought echoed. He blinked it away and let the feather lay gently in his palm. He drew in a deep breath and commanded, "Show me"

Both magics dove into the feather, the quill turning black flowing into the veins before fading to white. The feather gave off a soft glow and floated up. Before he knew it, he saw a projection of Aziraphale- or rather, he was the one being projected. Crowley found himself standing in a dark office in where he assumed to be Heaven which was quite strange. He'd thought it'd be white just like the rest, but the space he found himself was closed off from the rest of Heaven. It felt almost personal in a way, the desk was made of glass and the chair looked very uncomfortable, but there were things on the desk that drew his attention. Aside from Heavenly documents and papers, there was a mini model of the Bentley and a picture of him and Crowley shaking hands back in 1941. Crowley's breath caught at the reminders, he hadn't expected Aziraphale to keep that picture nor any momentos at all up in Heaven.

As he thought this, he saw Aziraphale checking the door to make sure it was locked and walk over to the desk. He stood next to it then turned to look in Crowley's direction. Crowley could see the fear and regret in the angel's sunken stormy gray eyes, his hands ringing together in front of him looked dry and almost red with white knuckles. There were stress lines all over his face, making the angel look his immortal age, and his usual fluffy hair standing out all over the place, it was the worst Crowley had ever seen him. "Crowley," Aziraphale sounded hoarse and breathless like he was on the verge of crying, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you everything, but I suppose this will have to do if-" the angel's eyes shut tight, holding back tears that threatened to spill over. He opened them again and Crowley could see his eyes were red and it pulled at his heart strings, "Please understand that what I've done here was for us. There was a point in time I wanted to make Heaven better for you, wanted it to be deserving of you, but after what happened during Armageddon-" Aziraphale hiccuped, his voice was thick with emotion.

"After what we've been through, I knew there was no fixing it. Even if there was, you'd never want to come back and I knew that. Why would you after what happened? You were right Crowley, the angel I knew before is not you, because you are so much better than him. I wanted to give you back your stars, I still do, you were so happy then, Crowley, but this isn't the way to do that. I know that now. Crowley, please understand that all I've ever wanted was to keep you safe, be an Us like you wanted- like you deserve. I've messed up so much, but I hope to fix it. After you k-" Aziraphale's breath shuddered, bringing his fingers up to his lips. Crowley felt tears prickle at his eyes, but refused to let them fall, he needed to know. Needed to finish seeing what the angel left for him.

"I forgave you not because I was repulsed, my dear. It wasn't the right time, but I wish to thank you as well. I don't exactly remember all that I said, but some of the things I do- I just hope you'll forgive me." Aziraphale looked towards the door, there was muffled sound approaching and Aziraphale's breath quickened in distress. He looked back in Crowley's direction, "I plan to steal the Book of Life so it will never be used against you again, Crowley. I will not let them destroy the Earth, destroy you... My Crowley" Crowley's breath hitched which was not helping the fact that he was barely breathing to begin with.

 "I hope to see you again and if I don't- please live on" He whispered. "I will do all that I can to come back to you and... I hope you'll be willing to see me again. There is still so much to discuss-" There was knocking on the door now, someone calling for Aziraphale and telling him it was time. "Stay safe, my darling" The world around Crowley shifted back to his bedroom and the feather floated down into his open hand.

[kimium]

Earlier this week I made a personal post about how I'd love to talk about my KHR (Katekyo Hitman Reborn!) fics. So, here I am, making the post. I have a sizable collection of 10051 fics (24 works plus some snippets) meaning I have plenty to discuss! There isn't a formula behind these rambles, but maybe my ramblings can either stir interest to check out the anime/manga OR my fics.

(Note: 10051 is the ship name to Byakuran/Shouichi. KHR ships are simplified into numbers based on the kanji in the character's names. Example: The "Bya" in Byakuran can mean "100". "Shou" can be read as "5" and "Ichi" can be read as "1". Thus, 10051 is their ship name.)

Let's Start! This is long, so it's under a Read More Cut!

My Ramblings about my 10051 fics (In no particular order)

The Only One I Want

My first 10051 fic! I remember the time I wrote this I was into NBC Hannibal. That influence shines through as I explicitly wrote Byakuran killing someone and displaying the body to Shouichi in a manner that would make Hannibal proud. Truly a horrific sight. Even though this is my first 10051 fic, it holds a special place in my heart.

Would I ever redo the fic? Not directly, but I'd have no issue taking the core idea (Byakuran's jealousy causing him to murder someone for "getting too close to Shouichi") and reworking it.

Flawed Logic (It's True Because You Want It to be True)

I think this fic is where I truly hammered down 1) my interpretation of Byakuran's perspective on Shouichi and 2) Shouichi's perspective on Byakuran. A fixed point is the perfect way to describe Byakuran's perspective!

I also loved writing Shouichi hiding from Byakuran. If someone were to ask my opinion on the "bad" timelines and how Shouichi is living in them I'd point to this fic.

Personal Server

Honestly the entire time I wrote this fic I had a very specific restaurant in mind. Sadly, it doesn't exist anymore, but the vibe and atmosphere of the restaurant remains in my heart and has seeped a little bit into this fic. Though, to be honest, I'd love to redo this fic's idea. While I like the direction it went, it didn't quite hit some of the ideas floating in my brain. Perhaps, in the future I will take the core idea of this story and write another fic.

Monochrome and Lavender

Many times when asked "what is your favourite fic" I dart around the question with "I like all my fics". While that's not a lie (I think all my stories have their own merits or reveal my thought/head space at the time of writing) this fic is by far my favourite KHR fic.

Where do I even start? Magical curses are a trope Right Up my Alley ever since I was twelve and picked up volume 4 of CLAMP's Tsubasa. (I read the first four volumes out of order!) Next, the visual representation of Byakuran's obsession?? Shouichi truly cannot escape reality this time. In other fics he has the luxury of lying to himself. How can he lie here where his vision is black and white except for Byakuran's signature shade of purple? What about the idea of "love is blind" only Byakuran's love is blinding Shouichi? Just... the symbolism is endless.

The Unspoken "K" Word in the Room

My favourite part about this fic is how something horrible has happened (Shouichi being kidnapped by Byakuran) but the entire situation is treated as a "mild" inconvenience. There is humour yet underneath the humour is rotting, festering horror and terror as Shouichi is powerless to stop Byakuran. Easily one of my favourite dynamics between them.

An Unofficial Prize (The Last Extra Hours Spent Together)

At the time of writing this story I think this idea had been swirling in my brain for two full years. I am (still) obsessed over this fic's premise. Byakuran adding Shouichi as a "prize" to Choice? How could that idea not send shivers down my spine? Make my heart thump and beat rapidly? Send me daydreaming about the idea consistently? It's too perfect. There is a high chance I'd rewrite this story or the core idea again.

Though the only snag in this fic was my worrying I was writing "too close to canon" at certain moments. Whenever I diverge from a specific canon point I always bog myself down with "accuracy". I had to rewatch some KHR to get the lines and beats of the scene perfect.

Grounding the Sun

Another story I had circulating in my brain for years! I always wanted to write a story as Spanner! I love him so much and what's a better story than Spanner witnessing Byakuran and Shouichi's relationship as an outsider?? I remember this fic taking so much out of me though! It was a challenge but in the end I think I wrote a fun fic!

Can I help you?

TIME LOOP. TIME LOOP! Need I say more? This was another story I had circulating in my brain for years! Mostly because I wanted to write Byakuran with a more "supernatural" vibe. Also, the tone of this fic is easily my favourite out of all my KHR ones. I am always here for an unsettling tone... and a time loop. Big sucker for those.

You're Welcome, Byakuran

I love this fic because it's the result of an elaborate inside joke with @someobscurereference where it all started with "Okay but what if Kikyo runs a Beauty YouTube Channel in the good timeline?" The humour that comes out of it! Priceless.

The Blue Bottle (Warming Up in Snippets)

Probably one of my lesser known stories, this fic is Ch. 11 of my first Warming Up in Snippets collection. My favourite part of the fic was how I wrote it in present tense rather than past tense. I also adore the idea of Shouichi willingly keeping himself ignorant and Byakuran facilitating the poor decision.

Delivery

Once more a fic with a story that had been circulating in my brain for years. (I'm not joking when I say I am thinking of KHR fics all the time.) Anyways, there is something so compelling to me about writing Shouichi who just... goes to Byakuran of his own volition. No running or hiding, which as I said earlier, is my default "Shouichi" mode when dealing with Byakuran. This idea was so compelling I wrote it again in my newest story Total Percentage: 4%.

The Envelope

Mark my words: I will one day write a completely unhinged Shouichi who has fully given up on escaping Byakuran. I will write him in a dark head space where he decides "If I cannot escape Byakuran I will use his obsession and have him kill bad people. I will bat my eyelashes at him and tell him someone made me feel awful and without fail Byakuran will kill them. No questions asked."

Anyways, this fic was a slight dip into exploring that angle for a fic. This one softly dips its toes into the water and I love it.

And that's all I have to say! Was there a KHR fic I missed talking about that you want me to comment on? Feel free to send an ask and I'll gladly talk about it! I will be more than delighted to do so!

[musekicker]

Brain not working with longer stuff today so started just writing some quick snippets of writing. Characters like @projectaffectivity 19 and @halloweennut Mara show up in some of these snippets.

Kelp- "Something touched my foot!" Gibson cried.

The rest of the hyper force stopped and turned to face what was most likely to be attacking horror of some kind. There were plenty of those kind of things down in the waters around Shuggazoom.

Instead of a moment for battle, they found humor.

"Gibson.." Chiro said, trying to not laugh so not to hurt the blue monkeys feelings. "That's just kelp."

Gibson looked down.

"Oh... so it is."

Mirror- Antauri had long already sensed something wrong with this place. Something about it was all so off. He wasn't completely sure of that up until he saw his reflection in a mirror. Metal that should had been silver and optics that should had been blue were reflected to be black fur and yellow eyes.

Trees- The tourist guide to the planet Ghost and 19 were visiting was very helpful. And it was how they had learned about the tree planting festival that was happening that day.

The story of the festival had something to do with the town founder and how they had supposedly been the one to plant and care for the trees that supported the tree town now. How true that was neither 19 or Ghost were sure. In any case the event sounded nice and strangers were very much encouraged to join in.

So they did.

Ghost's knowledge of plants were not as strong with trees. So she was more then happy to hear the head arborist info dump all about the local tree types. Just glad to have someone listening.

19 had gotten into a conversation with one of the vendor selling sweet cakes that contained flour that were made from the trees acorns. She had already gotten a number of local recipes from some of the other vendors.

The two returned to each others sides in time for the tree planting.

Locket- "Oh by the way, I made this for you."

19 handed a small box over to Ghost. The box itself was white with a ladybug pattern ribbon wrapped around it. It gave a cute pop of color to the box and that alone made Ghost smile. Opening the box the ribbon turned out to be a sign of what was inside.

It was a locket. Made of metal that had been colored red and the spots and eyes made of metal wires that were shaped into swirls. The chain that the locket hung from was a black color. It worked with the rest of the creation.

Ghost gasped at the sight of the lovely creation.

"This is so pretty! I really love the spirals as spots and eyes especially." Ghost said. "Just, thank you!"

19 smiled.

"I'm glad you like it." 19 said.

"More like love it. I'm never taking this off." Ghost said.

While the locket had been empty of any pictures at the time of the gift giving, Ghost soon had the perfect picture to put into it. A picture of Ghost and Julia posing together.

Cake: "I'm not sure I'm big on the idea of candles on a birthday cake. At least for me." Hermes said.

"Is this for a reason that's going to make us all really sad?" Sprx asked.

Hermes shrugged.

"A bit? It's just that I was thinking. For one thing, I don't really KNOW my exact age. I also don't know my exact birthday. What I do know that even if we did try to go with a number of candles to age thing one day that cake would be nothing but fire. Immortal after all." Hermes said. "And fire isn't exactly known for being tasty."

"That's a fair concern." Gibson said.

"No candles then. Got it." Otto said.

"Remarkably few people stay dead when killed."-  "How many times do we have to teach you this lesson old man!" Mara yelled as she charged Skeleton King. Or as some were calling his Skeleton King 2.0.

[cacalowee]

𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 || 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 || 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓

azriel x rhysand’s sister [ y/n ]

synopsis : at their mating ceremony, y/n reminisces about their time together so far [ bonus ;; az's pov ]

warnings : fluff, mentions of trauma, cursing, alcohol

word count : 2,783

notes : this is meant to be a sweet, fluffy chapter of just pure love memories <33 but I don't know how mating ceremonies are like in prythian, so I'll just try to make it as whimsical as possible lmao [ also ignore the weird title, I'm feeling very disney ] also I'm so sorry I didn't exactly like writing the nervous 'bride' trope but I literally had no idea what I was doing and made it up as I typed

this is me finally finished with writing and I think I managed to write and share a theme that I really needed before [ at the end ] i hope this story reaches you well and I hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you <33

[ also im lazy so this isn't proofread or edited. i may go back in to change a few things but I'm so so sorry if there are any grammatical or spelling mistakes ]

cal xx

"Oh my fucking gods, I'm actually doing this," you breathed, already out of breath. You wiped your sweaty palms on the skirts of your flowy dress and tried to shake out the nerves.

Feyre offered you a warm smile, "You look so beautiful." Your eyes flickered to the mirror propped up against your bedroom wall and scanned yourself up and down. Your black satin dress had a slightly modest neckline and long, mesh sleeves draping off your arms. Your dress came down past your ankles where the tips of your silver heels peeked through the fabric. Silver glitter had been dusted on the hem of your skirt and sleeves, giving off an ethereal feeling to your mating dress. Your hair had been pulled half-up, your thick strands of hair forming a crown around your head.

"Do I?" you asked nervously, terrified that you looked different in the eyes of others.

Mor nodded in agreement as she dusted sparkles over your cheekbones and gave you a dazzling smile. "You look amazing. Now, stop moving around so much, I still have to fix your hair." You quickly switched your energy to bouncing your leg up and down, ignoring Mor's huff of amusement.

"Don't be nervous, y/n," Feyre said, placing a crown of burnt flowers in your hair, the dark shade of them matching the ebony dress.

"I'm not nervous, exactly. More like absolutely petrified because I'm sure I'll piss myself and then die," you answered, muttering the last bit.

Feyre gave you a pointed look, "You won't piss yourself or die. You'll walk down that aisle, and offer Az your best fucking meal in the history of food."

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, adding quietly, "I can't cook shit."

"I warmed up soup for Rhys, you're fine," Feyre said, a slight smirk gracing her features.

"OhmygodsnowIsoundneedyIneedtoshutup," you muttered, letting your thoughts swirl around your head instead. Azriel hadn't dared propose the idea of officiating our mating bond. Only a few weeks ago, you had planted the idea while extremely drunk at Rita's. Azriel had been hovering over you, being overprotective as usual and making sure you didn't drink too much. It was endearing, truly, but at some point, you were sure you had just snapped and slurred, "We're not mated yet, stop being a busybody." After that, he had fallen silent and you had asked the question. Want to mate me?

And here you were, trying to convince yourself that you hadn't imagined that entire conversation in your wine-addled head and were now dressing up for nothing.

Because that would be a shame. Especially after sitting in this damn chair for over two hours.

You subconsciously rubbed at your arms, feeling the silky mesh material glide across your skin. You started playing with the sleeve and as you twisted your arm around, you could faintly make out the white outlines of a large scar you had earned by being dumb.

You turned your arm back over and stared directly in front of you. You focused your gaze and could've sworn you saw the air particles moving around in the space in front of you.

You let your eyes unfocus and small stars appeared in your vision. There were streaks of white across the walls that reminded you of the night when the mating bond snapped into place. Azriel had been dumbfounded at first, freezing on the spot and staring at you with wide eyes. The bond had shone brightly, illuminating your mind with its light. Neither of them dared to breathe the words aloud. We're mates.

You had stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. When Azriel's eyes had filled with tears and he collapsed against you, you held him as he held you, both of you understanding and yet not saying a single word.

A few weeks later, both of you laying next to each other on the roof, watching the stars twinkle against the dark sky, you had shared a special thing.

After hours of talking about everything that was important to you and him, your gazes interlocked and he looked so beautiful at that moment. His eyes were glowing and a smile twisted his lips upward, warming his features. He stared at you with love shining in his eyes and you felt your lips curve up into a smile to match his own. His breath hitched and he murmured, "You're beautiful."

Your smile had faltered slightly, the words coming out of a different mouth for a moment before you were back in the present. "You're absolutely breathtaking," you responded.

His gaze was so understanding and empathetic, that you had no other choice but to move closer so that your bodies were only an inch apart. You didn't remember who moved first, but you both angled your faces toward each other and brushed your lips together. The soft touch made your heart clench at the gentleness he was offering and you leaned in further to press your lips firmly against his own.

He draped an arm over your waist and pulled you in closer, sharing a beautiful moment for all of a few seconds before it was over and you were both smiling stupidly at each other.

"y/n?" Mor asked and your head snapped up. "Stand up for me real quick, I need to adjust the hem."

You tilted your head and did as she said. "You don't have to help me, y'know. I don't want this to be a big thing."

She smirked at you and shook her head, "Small thing or not, you're going to look fucking gorgeous out there. I don't care if you fight me every step of the way, I am going to fuss over you. I didn't get to do this for Feyre, and Nesta had her sisters." You couldn't deny her when she made it about herself.

After a few more minutes of absolute torture, you were ready for the ceremony at dusk. You hadn't wanted a normal ceremony, you wanted to break out of the box and be unique, all for the fact of not being confined to society's rules.

You had worn all black instead of white, your silver shoes being the sole exception, and held a bouquet of dead roses. It had taken a lot of convincing to make this all happen. Convincing yourself and others. You didn't say anything, but you wanted this ceremony to double as a funeral for the person you once were. It was stupid, honestly, so you kept quiet.

You stood in front of the double doors to the roof, mentally preparing yourself for the embarrassment you would feel when you tripped and fell flat on your ass in front of everyone.

You took a deep breath and opened the door slightly, knowing the Inner Circle sat on the other side.

You tentatively took a step down the aisle created by the parting of chairs and heard Cassian whoop enthusiastically. You grinned at that, feeling the fear leaving your body. Only slightly. You continued down the walkway, avoiding any and all eye contact, though furiously scanning the perimeter of the roof for anything amiss.

When you reached the altar and the priestess was waiting there for you, you nodded at her and offered a small smile of thanks. Your gaze swept out over the blurred crowd and you swallowed, feeling the fear rear up again. You clenched the bouquet of flowers closer to you, knowing for a fact that no matter how hard you squeezed, you wouldn't damage the roses.

Movement from your peripheral vision caught your eye and you automatically zoned onto the double doors where wisps of shadows were seeping through the cracks and joining you on the altar. They curled over your wrists and the cooling brush of the tendrils helped calm your heart rate.

The doors opened and Azriel stepped out dressed in all black, as per usual, but instead of leathers, he had donned a silk tunic and trousers that perfectly fitted his figure. His wings were flared out behind him and your gaze drifted to his face. You found his eyes already on yours and you felt your heart stutter. His eyes softened, just for you to see, and the tips of his lips tilted up in a reassuring smile.

For him. For Azriel.

You took a deep breath and watched as he made his way toward you. When he turned to face you on the altar, the priestess took that as her cue to start the usual bonding words. You zoned out slightly, your mind running over all the different scenarios that could occur where you would screw this entire thing up.

A calming shadow curled around your ear and you heard a faint song with lyrics you couldn't interpret. When the priestess took a step back, you reached your arms forward for Azriel's and as you clasped hands, shadows slithered down your arms, meeting where your hands were joined. You held Azriel's gaze and felt a slight tug on the bond. A surge of happiness and love followed and you were almost felled by the potency of the emotions.

In return, you quieted your thoughts and pushed the words, I love you, through the bond, hoping he could hear the message through the pounding of your heart.

"Do you accept Azriel as your mate for the rest of eternity?" the priestess asked, interrupting your silent conversation with Azriel.

You smiled, letting your happiness show on your face.

"I do."

azriel's pov

His breath caught, the impossible words filling his head as you smiled up at him with all the love in the world. You were beautiful. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. He couldn't believe he was standing in front of you, with his ruined hands entwined with the most unbelievable female he'd ever met.

"And do you, Azriel, accept y/n as your mate for the rest of eternity?" the priestess repeated. Your gaze swiveled to meet his eyes and he couldn't help the pang of anger when he saw that hint of doubt in your eyes. Anger at everything in the world that had taught you the curse of doubt.

He made sure you were looking at him, letting all his walls down and letting you see all the emotions crossing his face.

"I do."

Your face betrayed no negative emotion, but he felt a slight stirring of relief through the bond. He gave another reassuring tug and clasped your hands tighter.

"Then, y/n, you may present the food," the priestess said, breaking and adding to the moment all at once. You let go first, the shadows twining around your arms breaking as well.

Your face was flushed as you turned and offered him a plate of homemade brownies. "You said you like chocolate, and I don't know . . . "

Azriel stretched out his hand to take a brownie and took a large bite, not hesitating for a second. A dazzling smile graced your features and he would've fallen onto his knees at the sight of it were it not for the events that would come after. The sweetness of the chocolate erupted in his mouth, and it was the absolute best brownie he had ever had.

"I now pronounce you officially mated," the priestess said, a small smile spreading across her face at the pure joy hanging around in the air. And Azriel felt that joy, felt everything. He felt undiluted happiness as he stood in front of his mate, her face glowing and full of love. He had never thought he would've experienced this day in his entire 500 years of living, but all that pain was worth it to be here. With you.

y/n's pov

Azriel turned to face you completely, his eyes softening with love and gratitude, something only meant for your eyes and you smiled at him, trying to convey what words couldn't: how much you loved him.

The shadows swarming around both of you erupted as Azriel stepped closer and cupped your cheek, bringing his head toward yours. He gently pressed his lips against yours, his other hand going around you to hold your waist. You arched into the kiss, your hands reaching for his hair. You smiled against him and you felt his lips tilt as well, both of you eventually dissolving into snorts and chuckles.

When you pulled away, you grinned at him and held him tight.

When the priestess moved to step off the slightly raised podium she had been standing on, Rhysand and the others stood up immediately to rush at you both.

"y/n, my precious little, baby sister," your brother greeted as he wrapped his arms around you, giving Azriel a pat on the back. The two males grinned at each other, Azriel more carefree than you had ever seen him.

Cassian swung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug. Feyre offered you a warm smile and you reached for her hand, clasping it gently. Cassian whooped with joy for you and his brother. Even Amren gave you both a smile, the expression on her face showing more emotion than normal.

"Alright, let's all get stupid drunk and then pass out!" Cassian hollered, heading straight for the drinks set out on a table near the edge of the roof.

In small groups, the Inner Circle broke away to lounge on the chairs set around the roof as they all celebrated Azriel's and your mating ceremony.

You turned toward the rising moon and found Azriel standing by your side like he always would from this point forward.

You reached for his hand, holding it tightly. When he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you pulled his hand up and pressed a kiss to his scars.

"I love you so much," he whispered, his fingers moving to twine with yours.

"I love you more," you returned, wrapping your arms around his waist, hands still linked together.

"I'll be with you forever. From here on out until the Mother claims us. Beyond that even," he promised, leaning down to kiss your hair. You tilted your head to lean on his chest, squeezing tightly.

"And I'll always treasure you, my precious, sweet, chicken leg," you muttered against his black tunic.

Azriel pulled away slightly to look you in the eyes. "Chicken leg?" He asked with a deep laugh.

"I don't handle on-the-spot decisions well. How about you try thinking of something, right here, right now," you retorted.

"Easy, starlight," he said, his voice soft.

You released a huff, "You got a few seconds to think."

"Yes, that's why," he returned, voice dripping with sarcasm. He wrapped his arms tighter around you held you even closer than before if that was possible.

"I'm glad I'm back. I'm glad that I managed to find you even when I was trying to kill Rhysie," you admitted, glancing at the stars that twinkled in the night sky like small bursts of reassurance.

"I'm glad you're back too. Even though the circumstances which we met through were questionable," Azriel replied. You hummed in agreement, averting your gaze from the stars to his eyes. They were liquid honey, absolutely beautiful, and truly Azriel.

"My beautiful, handsome, absolutely perfect mate," you breathed, staring deep into his soul. You saw everything and held no fear. Azriel was by no means perfect, but he was perfect for you, scars and all. The blood on his hands was there from protecting his High Lord and Court. And you couldn't fault him for that. Hell, you've tortured and killed before. You've tried to kill your brother. Both of you had endured so much as well. Under the hands of his brother, Azriel had suffered, but he was alive. He was alive and living. He didn't let what happened to him affect him. He was as strong as an army of thousands.

And despite everything that had happened to you, from your mother's death to the torture of the King, you lived as well. And when two halves of a whole, both merely surviving met each other, you learned to thrive together. Because that was what you were doing. Both of you had learned to thrive and found love where you thought had been impossible.

The Mother has some strange plans, you thought. But truly wonderful plans.

Incredible plans, actually, because throughout the course of her plan, you had met your mate and you were currently being held by him on the roof overlooking the night sky, surrounded by your family and friends.

Life sucks for sure, but in the end, there is always a turn of destiny and something truly wonderful awaits you.

→ violet dreams masterlist || complete masterlist

taglist : @sassybluebird ,, @starrstrucked ,, @hideing ,, @moonslattess ,, @goldentournesol ,, @eat-cake ,, @owllover123 ,, @imnotsiriusyouare ,, @winnie-the-shoe ,, @xxgenderenvyxx [ striked-out names couldn’t be tagged unfortunately ]

[internalsealpanic]

Love Through the Ages (Jason Todd)

Summary:  Love like baggage needs to be declared.

a/n: This is part three of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots.  Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans.  I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself. ALSO, y'all can thank @littleredwing89 for the poem that comes up.

Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist.

You tap at your phone screen, planting seeds in a satisfyingly hypnotic rhythm, the sounds of the train vacillating in and out of your periphery. It was soothing having your own compartment, a little world you can isolate yourself in while you anxiously await for the inevitable. 

It wasn’t a secret that you found Gotham stressful. It was about as much a secret as Tony Stark’s civilian identity. You pulled your knees up to your chest at the thought. Big cities were stressful but Gotham was a different beast entirely. It was a writhing monster of steel and smoke. You wrinkle your nose deciding to sweep the thought away. 

Instead, you concentrate on your plants and your farm. You wince looking at your journal. It looks like you’d forgotten another quest. Pursing your lips, you decide to turn your phone off for a bit and pretend the NPCs can sort it out on their own as you look out the window. 

You lean against the wall, pressing your cheek to the cool window. You can’t help but smile to yourself thinking of a sea of black curly hair interrupted by a shock of white, sea green eye perpetually alight with mischief or intelligence (9 times out of 10, you really couldn’t tell which it was.), freckles like star map, and a mouth permanently set in a cocky grin. It’s hard not to smile like an idiot when thinking of Jason Todd.  

   Your skirt flutters in the wind as you dance your way through the crowd, bobbing up and down on your tiptoes over the sea of humans. Sometimes the smell of them still makes your mouth water but not now, not when the smell of Gotham is so pungent in the air. 

You see a gloved hand wave at you on the other side of the crowd. You pin your sunhat against your head as you rush through the crowd, your luggage dragging behind you.

Jason waves a two fingered salute at  you in front of a motorcycle, his foot clearly stomping a cigarette. You toss your hat to him. It flutters over the crowd. Jason catches it easily, putting it on his own head. 

"Hey Princess, welcome back." Jason greets, the syllables of your native French gliding off of his tongue so easily. Fighting down a blush, you swallow your own greeting. Jason would have been a great ambassador in a different life were he not inclined to murder someone with a desert spoon for being a jackass.

He offers his hat back to you, but you shake your head. "You might freckle too much in Gotham's sunny weather." He gives you a hearty chuckle keeping the hat on. 

"Missed you too, princess."

You roll your eyes. Pinching your nose, you look around. "You forgot to tell me to bring a gas mask."

"Every city smells like this."

"Darling, you've been in Gotham for too long."

"And you've been in your French villa for too long." Jason says, putting his sunglasses on you. You glare at him through them.

"First of all, it's a cottage."

Jason snorts, "As if that makes a difference. It's still in the idyllic French countryside, isn't it?"

"I-" 

"I rest my case."

You cross your arms. "You're welcome to visit, you know?" It was a hopeful suggestion at best. 

"We both know the quiet will drive me crazy."

"I said visit," you say, "besides, I think the train ride alone would drive you up the wall." You remember how Jason is with tight spaces.

"Not with you there." Jason winks.

Your heart presses a bruise into your throat and you hate Jason Peter Todd all over again. 

"Ah yes, you plan on driving me mad. Evil. Truly evil of you." You say, grinning back at him. 

"Here's a wild idea, how bout we just not listen to Roy? How does that sound?" Jason gently suggests, handing you your offensively pink cup of caffeinated goop. Jason can smell the sickening amount of sweeteners added. He might gag. 

"Nope," you say, smiling at him as you slurp your ooze. Jason's stomach rolls. Alfred would have an aneurysm. "He was even nice enough to get us both tickets." You hand him one, fingers brushing against his. They felt calloused as they always did. Jason suppresses any oncoming reaction.

He instead turns his attention to the ticket in his hands. Love Through the Ages: Gotham Museum Exhibition on expressions of love. Jason runs through the numbers. "These are $59 each."

"So sweet of him, isn't it?" You chirp adorably.

Jason makes a mental note to kill both of you. "You're only going along with this cus you want to watch me suffer." Jason says, slumping his chair. His foot kicks out to tap your foot. 

"I'm doing it affectionately," you say, tapping his foot with yours. "Besides, it's a universal pass time at this point." You swirl your drink and grin at him. It was your real grin, all bright and eager and stupidly sweet. Something in Jason's chest twists. It's always hard to breathe when you smile at him but really Jason would rather all the oxygen in the atmosphere be burned up than see your smile disappear. 

He sounds dramatic and he knows that but still he knows it's true.

"C'mon Jay, it'll be fun."

Shoulders slouched, Jason smiles at you indulgently. "Fun for who?"

"Mainly me but you can have fun too."

"You are so lucky you're adorable when you're being evil."

Your smile brightens and with a tap of his foot against yours, he thinks he'll survive whatever Roy has in store for him.

You and Jason have been walking around the museum for quite a bit with Jason's arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders and homicide radiating off of him every time someone even looks at you funny. He'd said that the arm slung around your shoulder was so that you wouldn't get lost. As for the homicide,  he elected to ignore the question entirely. 

You flush as Jason quotes another line from 'Master Valentine' back to you. You definitely regret letting him house sit. You regret even more not hiding your books. You squirm as Jason whispers the quote in your ear in a husky drawl. The erotica in the book is amazing and you're normally comfortable with talking to Jason about everything, but this- this was just cruel and unusual punishment. It's what you get for trying to make him suffer.

All the pet names he murmured in your ear crawled up your spine. You shove his face away hiding your own in your sleeve. He laughs into your hand enjoying your sudden bout of shyness.

Jason mumbles a half-hearted apology into your hand, pressing a soft kiss into your palm. You lower your head. You're still clearly avoiding his gaze but you let him press you to his side. Jason Todd is an asshole.

You point to a pair of ice skates so well worn and well loved that you almost miss the little penguins stitched on the side. "Love on the ice? That's so cute!"

Jason glances at them with mild interest. "Sounds like hypothermia." He says, shrugging. 

Swatting at his chest, you pout at him. He rolls his eyes nudging your shoulder with his. You scowl at him and stick your tongue out. Jason leans down, unable to stop the urge to press a kiss to your brow. You scowl even harder. 

"Admit it, doll. The whole exhibition is just Dickie's favorite fanfiction tropes."

"Professor Todd, be a dear and enlighten my troglodyte ass."

He snorts, "Princess, if I was a professor we both know I'd have the highest attendance rate."

"And the highest failure rate." You say cocking a brow. 

"Probably."

"You're terribly humble today."

"I just know I look good."

No, you don't, you think. You shake your head. "That explains the leather jacket."

"You love my leather jacket."

"Well, Biscuit certainly loved your previous one."

Jason wrinkled his nose thinking of the yellow disaster. "That dog was a menace."

"She is the sweetest creature on earth."

"She destroyed my jacket and ate my wallet AND phone."

"I never said she was smart... wait, we're getting off topic."

Jason narrows his eyes at you then points to a crown. It was an intricate lattice of silvers and golds with diamonds that glittered like starlight. "Royal AU," he says simply, "go on read the description."

"A prince and a princess from rival nations are bound by a marriage of convenience. Through a series of missteps. They fell for each other.... that one was pretty easy. Do it again."

He points to a blue feather. "Mythology AU."

You arch a brow at him. He waves at it, urging you to read. "A god descended to earth to be with his mortal lover only for him to lose his memories of her." The feather's glow is incandescent. You can feel the power radiating off of it, a sure sign of divinity.

Once, you would have brushed it off as mere story. You've spent more than twice your lifetime now dipped into the world of myths. You glance at Jason.  Simple divinity no longer fazes you.

"See?"

"I- Nope."

"You're just being stubborn."

"Would you have been my friend if I wasn't?" Would you have saved me if I wasn't?

You think Jason hears your unspoken question when he frowns. Instead, he turns on his heel to face the other direction. He points to a bouquet of wilted roses tied together by a green ribbon. They still smell of blood and something you couldn't identify.  Your eyes drift down curious. Your eyes trace over the words feeling your stomach tumble.

"Gruesome." Jason vocalizes inanely. He hooks his head on the crown of your head, neatly slotting your body under his. You're safe, surrounded by walls of muscle. The crease in your brow softens. You would think that Jason would be less protective after you'd turned but now that you were a vampire, he was somehow even more protective. Roy always joked you only got Biscuit and your other dogs as lap dogs because you already had Jason. He may not have been too off on his guess.

"This should be in a horror exhibit," you say leaning into Jason's chest, "kind of reminds me of you though." You tilt your head up grinning at him. 

"If you make a joke about me being jack the ripper again, I swear I'll-"

"-Bury me alive 6 feet under concrete with a recording of Roy singing Auld Lang Syne in a terrible British accent. Got it. What I meant was... you're just as protective as the man in the story." You say, smiling at him. 

For good reason, Jason thinks. 

Jason buries half of his face in your hair, hiding his answering smile. You smell like sugar and cinnamon. It's a familiar combination of smells that puts him at ease despite the atrocious amount of people in the museum.

You point to another artifact, afraid that you'd accidentally picked at an old wound. 

"Star-crossed lovers." He mumbles into your hair. 

"Bullshit!"

"Read it and weep, doll."

You read the plaque and the words 'meet' and 'different world' assault your eyes. You scowl at him. "Fuck you."

The grin on Jason's face is genuine. It makes something in your veins sing knowing how much fun he's having. 

Your face softens. "You really love this romance stuff, huh?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you.

"You were the one bawling your eyes out when we binged Spaces Between Us. Who the hell cries during erotica?"

"IT'S TRUE LOVE AND YOU KNOW IT IN YOUR SOUL," you protest, pounding your fist against his chest,"besides, you're the one who was crying nonstop when we watched the IDHY duology."

"I was crying because they were accurate book adaptations."

You blink at him confused. "There's a book?"

"Yes, you illiterate heathen."

"You sound like a conquistador."

“....”

"At least they got their happy ending." You say, changing the subject.  

"That's true."

"Still better than Titanic."

He furrows his brow at you. "What's wrong with the Titanic?"

"First of all," You pitch your shoulders like you're about to give him a lecture, "That was 3 hours of my life wasted on a shitty movie. It wasn't even that accurate."

"Princess, not everyone can survive the Arctic."

"And second, the most romantic scene in that romantic movie was the old couple staying together as they sank."

Jason laughs, a deep rumbling sound. It scrambles your brain, almost dissolving your annoyance until he opens his mouth again. "You sound like Damian."

"Jason Peter Todd, take that back." You screech, swiping at him. 

He jumps back, his laughter still echoing. "Stop sounding like the demon brat first."

You run after him, telegraphing your murderous intent. Jason walks away faster, sticking his tongue out at you. Your growl and claw at the air. You screech obscenities as Jason continues to evade you. He is having way too much fun with this. 

You chase Jason around the exhibition for a solid half hour before you come to a skittering halt.

Your eyes land on a vermillion book, leather bound and carefully crafted by skilled hands. You step closer to admire the swirling, arabesque patterns lining the leather. No title is embossed on the front.  It's thick. You would wager it was at least 400 pages.

Your eyes drift down even further, finding a  familiar scrawl. Below the book were photocopies of some of the pages. Pablo Neruda's 'If You Forget me', Beethoven's 'Immortal beloved', Ibn Hazm's 'My Heart', and a bunch of other poets you didn't know but recognized as ...

"Jason these are your favorites."

"What?" He says, walking over to you cautiously.

You look back down at the pages and your eyes catch on the one in the middle. From the numbering, it was the last.

Love is such a hard thing to define,

I don’t know if I could ever find,

The words to truly express the complexity of such an emotion.

It is an emotion felt in the heart,

Long before it makes sense to the mind,

illusive and uncertain until suddenly it just clicks.

Like so many things in this world,

we tend to know it when we see it in others,

even if we can’t be sure of it ourselves.

I think I’ve always known how much I love you,

When I look at you, 

I see everything I’ve ever wanted.

When I look at you,

I see nothing else but your perfect beauty.

Inside and out.

I'm not a poet, (Y/n), but I will tell you anyway I can how much I love you.

-Jason Peter Todd

Jason is a stone next to you.

His mouth is filled with sand as he looks at the far too familiar handwriting. He knew. He knew the moment he saw the red book what it was. Hell, the moment you told Jason it was Roy who told you to go to the museum, he knew what it was. God, why can't he just turn to ash. 

Jason can't make himself turn to you. He can't bear to see what ever disgusted expression you make. He just can't. 

He feels a tug on his sleeve. He doesn't move. He  feels another tug, this time harder. When he doesn't respond the second time, you lace your fingers in his and spin him around. 

You squish his cheeks in your hands. "Jason, you actual sap." You say. You look like you're glowing. You beam at him, all toothy and scrunched faced. Jason's lungs stop working again. His mind can't process what you're saying. All Jason knows is that something warm is crowding his chest, pushing everything else out.

"Wha?"

"Jason, you absolute dork!" You repeat, unfazed by his temporary bout of insanity.

Jason is blushing, looking like a strawberry with his freckles. Jason is more adorable than anyone has any right to be. But that's ok. That's perfectly ok cus he's yours.

In a moment of uncontained affection, you pull Jason to you, pressing a kiss against his lips. It's soft and earnest and exciting. It was a kiss Jason spent lifetimes dreaming about. It was you and completely you.

"Jay, they're beautiful." You say in a breathless laugh. 

Jason looked down at his feet. "I-" was never planning on giving it to you, he thinks. Because, why would you ever love someone like Jason? Especially, after what he'd done to you. 

As if reading his mind, you press your forehead against his. "I love you too, Jay, and you can't argue me out of it. Sorry bud, you're stuck with me."

Jason can't help the smile as it curls on his lips.

He's happy. He's so stupidly happy and he blames you.

"Plus, I already knew."

"Why didn't you say it first?" He asks, his fingers brushing against his tingling lips. 

"Cus," you say, pirouetting away from him, "you wouldn't believe me if I did."

"How-"

You put your hand up. "Trust me, Jay. I've tried before." You tilt your head back looking up at the sky light. The curtain of light fell on you like a spotlight highlighting everything ethereal about you. "Remember in Milan? When I told you I cared about you and you told me I didn't."

Jason remembered that. He was angrier back then. He snarled that to you like some wild animal and threatened to throw you out on your ass if you ever so much as spoke a word of that nonsense again. It was the first time he'd seen you look hurt. You face was wide open with shock.  Jason felt something in his chest tear at that look. He stormed off, leaving you in that room. 

When he came back, you offered him warm tea and a smile. You were quiet, inconsolably quiet.

It didn't…

He didn't…

It didn't occur to him that look in your eyes was heartbreak.

Jason curses under his breath.

You chortle at him, the mirth in your eyes incandescent.

"Yeah. Exactly." You say, clasping your hands behind your back. Jason would like to be buried six feet under with the only words carved into his gravestone 'I am so sorry (Y/n)'.

You snick seeing the look in his eyes. "Or that time in Paris. The one in the little patisserie when I told you in perfect Catalan that you meant more to me than anything else and do you remember what you told me?"

"I told you you were possessed." Jason's shoulders slump. "Please tell me you don't have a third example."

You smile at him pityingly. "I don't-"

"OH THANK FU-"

"I have 50. Well, 51 but the last one didn't count since I was joking that time."

In Jason's mind, his jaw hits the obsidian floor with an audible 'plop'. It would be loud enough that the entire museum would hear it were it real. He blinks at you. "You tried more than 10 times?"

"I was encouraged." You say shrugging.

"Of course, you were," he grumbles and you laugh. Jason's heart skips a beat but he pushes past the feeling in favor of pleading with you. "Please don't list them."

"Oh, I'm not." You hum. 

Jason sighs with relief. 

"I'm gonna leave that to Roy."

"Son of a- He knows?"

You look over your shoulder. "Yeah. Who do you think I complain to?"

"Who else knows?" He asks, trailing behind you as you walk to .... Jason doesn't know at this point and he doubts you do too. 

"Oh just your family."

"I'm surprised they haven't given me shit about it."

"Oh I bullied them into not doing it."

"Impressive." He whistles and you preen. 

"Always," you say smugly. You begin to walk a bit faster, craning your neck. "Now, let's go find out if Dickie installed that bakery I asked for." 

"That's what you're after?" Jason laughs.

"It's a noble goal." You protest. 

"You don't even need to feed."

"I need to feed my inner sweets monster. She's very fussy and is demanding crepes specifically."

Jason smiles softly at you, amused that of all the human traits you could have retained after being turned was a sweet tooth.

"Sorry to tell you doll face, Dickie still hasn't done it."

You look aghast like he'd slapped you in the face with a large baguette. 

"What?!"

"He hasn't put in your suggestion from 10 years ago."

"Where am I supposed to get my fix?"

"Are we still talking about sweets or have you moved on to cocaine?"

"Dunno, have you tried snorting sugar?"

"No. Why- Have you?"

"...my lawyer advised against answering this question."

Jason cackles. "How am I the stupid one?"

"I-" Your scowl turns sickeningly sweet. "Yanno, the third time I tried was when-"

"OK. Stop." Jason's face lights up again. "I give." 

"Pfff." You smile, looking far too pleased with yourself.

Jason straightens up, something sly passing through his eyes. You stop. The look in his eyes makes you nervous. 

"I think I know where you can get something sweet."

You swallow nervously.

Jason leans in. He’s so close to you. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. Nothing else around you seems to exist at the moment. 

You lean in to kiss him but you freeze when you register his voice. 

“I’m taking you downtown. There’s a new bakery there and I heard the crepes were to die for.” He chuckles, turning to walk towards the exit. 

“What the hell?!” You call out falling into step with him. 

He grins down at you, arms folded behind his head. “Something wrong, princess?”

Heat rises in your cheeks and elbow him in the side. 

“I want to take you on a proper date and I sure as hell am not starting here.” He says, rubbing his side and conspicuously not looking at you.  There’s a dust of peach on his face. Your anger fades away. It gives way to a fluttering in your chest. 

“Where?”

He looks at you then, brow furrowed. 

“Why don’t I take you to the fair, princess? There’s plenty of sweet treats there that’ll tickle your fancy.”

Your mouth waters when you think about all the cotton candy they have. 

“I heard there’s a kissing booth too, so if you’re lucky,” Jason continues, winking at you. Predictably, you blanch at him. You knock your knuckles against his chest. Jason chuckles, rubbing his chest. “Sorry princess, I mean if I’m lucky enough to get a kiss from you.”

The temerity. 

The gall. 

“As long as you get me something sweet.” You huff, exiting the building. 

Jason stops on the steps, turning to you with a sly smile. Crossing your arms, you pause bracing for whatever trick is up his sleeve. Jason tilts his head. He says something but the little noises of the city make the words hard to discern. You lean closer to hear him better. Jason steps closer to close the distance, his lips warm against yours. You’re stunned. Your entire body divided on how to react, some parts stiffen while others turn to jelly. 

He pulls away, wolfish grin unwavering. "That sweet enough for you sweetheart?"

@batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan​, @lucy-roo​, @multifandomgirl-us​, @bungunz​, @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206​, @americasmarauders​ , @l-inkage​, @arestorationofbalance​ , @cloudie-skay​, @wunderstell​   @hyp-oh-critical​ @glorified-red​

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 4

Y/n Stark

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: the avengers find some stuff out about y/n

Warnings: swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"SO there's some weird HYDRA girl locked and sedated in my basement? Cool, don't want to know." Tony dismissed, not looking up from his white mug as he tipped a generous amping of sugar into his black coffee. He swirled the liquid in the mug and turned around, leaning against the counter as he raised the drink to lips lips and took a sip before sighing intently. Bruce frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tony, I don't think you get it, I ran a DNA test and-"

"And she's probably some innocent girl that went missing years ago and was never found? I get it, I feel bad for her but at the end of the day she has nothing to do with me." Tony dismissed, pushing away from the counted to deposit his now-empty mug in the sink. He turned the tap on, rinsing out the cup before carelessly placing it on the drying rack.

"Just, please, come and see her. You won't regret it, and if you do - dinner's on me?" Bruce suggest, arms outstretched in welcome. Tony rolled his eyes, before scoffing.

"Yeah, no. I'm good. Catch you in the lab later though?" Tony was quick to deflect, exiting the room with so much as another glance. Bruce's hands feel to his side with a slap as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

...

Bruce nervously paced the lab, desperate to tell someone his horrifying discovery. The click of the door made his head snap up, a smile of relief spreading his on lips at the sight of Nat.

"Nat, finally." He sighed, walking towards the scowling girl.

"What did you need to tell me Bruce? You sounded pretty urgent when you called." She pressed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow. His smile faulted, his gaze dropping to his hands where he fondled with a biro pen.

"I- uh. I made a... discovery about y/n." Bruce confessed, finally meeting Nat's eyes.

"Go on.." Nat prompted. Bruce took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "Bruce-" she started.

"Y/n isn't entirely human-"

"Well we knew that much."

"It's what she is, that's shocking. Looking threw all her blood tests and whatnot - it's showing she has an ability to manipulate minds when she s-sings. It's like a certain note her voice forms that can control the minds of people around her."

"So what is she?"

"I don't know, there's not really a name-"

"A siren. She's a siren." A third voice joined the room, and both the avengers' heads snapped round to the direction it came from. In the door stood Steve, shoulder leant against the frame and ankles crossed.

"Who's watching y/n?" Nat asked.

"Clint. Anyway, my father - he used to read me a story when I was a kid. The Odyssey, I believe it was called. It was a Greek myth about a bewitching girl who lured saloons in with her voice so she could feed off them." Steve continued, pushing himself off the door frame and walking further into the room.

"There's no way that's real, though." Nat dismissed, frowning heavily at his words.

"No, no. He has a point - I mean, look at Steve. Look at me." Bruce said, gesturing to himself and Steve. "We shouldn't be possible, but science does some crazy things. Y/n was with HYDRA, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well, what if they did this to her. We know she was taken when she was young, so what if they did so to experiment on her?"

"I should go talk to her, you know - girl on girl. She seems to like me, maybe she knows what she is and she might open up to me, if I ask nicely." Nat suggests, walking out the room when she was met with no protests from the two men.

"There's something else I should mention." Bruce started fidgeting again, which man Steve's brown knit together.

"What is it, Bruce?" The super-soldier prompted. Bruce continued to fidget, not looking up from him hands as he spoke.

"Are you aware Tony used to have daughter?" Bruce asked sheepishly.

"Tony had a daughter?" Steve said, brows now raised with genuine shock. He knew of Tony's...escapades from before he was with Pepper, but he couldn't see Tony as the type to actually keep a child from just a one-night stand.

"She was adopted, some kid he found on the streets with no parents. So he took her in, raised her and then she just disappeared. Many people have forgotten she existed, and those that remember her are all under the impression that she is dead. I thought so too, until..." Bruce paused, flipping through some papers on his clipboard until he found what he was looking for. "Until this." He finished, handing the board over to Steve.

In Steve's hands was proof that matched y/n's DNA to that of Tony's adopted daughter.

"Well that explains the name, and her hesitation to tell us who she really is." Steve frowned, eyes scanning over the paper repeatedly. Bruce hummed in agreement, taking the clipboard back from Steve when he held it out for Bruce to take. "Do we tell Tony?" Steve asked after a moment.

"He doesn't want to know, I've tried telling him but he doesn't care." Bruce told Steve and Steve pressed his lips together as he thought. "I do think we should wake her up though. If she's Tony's daughter there can't be anything that's more dangerous about her than you expect her attitude." Bruce said and Steve nodded, suppressing a laugh.

"I'll tell Nat to wake her up." Steve said as he exited the lab.

...

The steam from the shower engulfed me, my hands running through my hair and brushing out the tangles lightly. As I scrubbed the shampoo from my scalp, I hummed a small tune - thankful to be somewhere noisy enough that I wouldn't risk affecting anyone with my powers. After waking me up Nat told me to clean up and get changed before handing me a pile of clothes and telling me that she would meet me at my room in half an hour to take me to meet the rest of the team.

Shutting the water off, I slid the glass door open and my feet padded onto the thin bath-mat. The towel wrapped around me as I patted my hair dry with another one, looking over my scarred figure in the large mirror opposite me.

A large scar spanned the width of my stomach, smaller remnants of cuts littering my thighs that were joined by one larger one from where I was once stabbed. Looking at myself over my shoulder, I observed the large scars that spanned over my back, the layers fading at different degrees from their varying ages. The memory of how I got them brought tears to my eyes, which I was quick to blink away and focus back onto what I was doing.

Pulling the large sweatshirt Steve had lent me over my head, I left the large bathroom clad in a pair of leggings and some socks I borrowed from Nat. I brushed my fingers through my wet locks, detangling them. I threw the towel onto the bed in the room I had been assigned and plopped down next to it, taking my time to survey the room I barely got a look of earlier.

The door to the en-suite bathroom I just exited sat on one side of the room, accompanied by a big closet and a dressing table. A chest of draws was propped next to the king sized bed the sat in and the free corner housed a small kitchen. It had a stove, fridge-freezer, sink and a few cabinets. On the side sat a kettle, toaster, blender and some chopping boards.

A sharp knock on the door bought me back to my senses, making me perk up a little at the sound of Nat's voice.

"You feeling okay?" I nodded. "Good, well Steve and Bruce want you to meet them in conference room 4. I'll take you." She quickly added the last part in seeing my scared face.

As we walked down the halls we chatted, talking about our pasts and finding out that we were fairly similar - we were both forced into the bad things we did, we both found a way to redeem ourselves, neither of us have ever had a boyfriend and we both love chicken noodle soup.

"Well, this is it." She announced, pointing at a door to our left. I nodded, going to open the door before pausing and turning around.

"Thank you. For taking me with you, for giving me this chance, for hiding me from HYDRA - thank you, really." I spoke softly, giving her the friendliest smile I could muster.

"No problem. I couldn't live with myself if I knew we could've helped you. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"I genuinely can't thank you enough - you saved me." I said, quickly swiping away the threatening tears with the heels of my hands.

"I was nice meeting you, y/n."

"You too." And with the last words said, I pushed the door open, walking into the room and being instantly greeted by Bruce and Steve.

"Hey, y/n, why don't you take a seat and we'll get the introductions out the way?" Bruce suggested and I nodded shyly. I took a seat next to Steve, who appeared to shuffle slightly away from me but I couldn't be sure.

"So, another midgardian?" a bulky man with shoulder length blonde hair and a red cape clipped to his shoulders broke the silence. He was clearly the God I'd been hearing about - I mean how much more of a costume does he need to look like Thor?

"Yes, we think so." Bruce confirmed. I frowned at this. Midgardian? What the hell was a midgardian?

"We think she's been tampered with, like me," Steve elaborated, "but as far as we know, she is of this earth." Steve spoke and Thor nodded. "We are keeping her safe from HYDRA." Steve said to break the silence as they all stared at me with funny looks. I kept my eyes cast down now, cheeks hot with embarrassment after feeling so many eyes on me at once.

"Does she-" I interjected the second I heard another voice. I stood abruptly, pushing me seat back and wincing at the screeching noise it made before resuming my angry face. I slammed my hand down the table as I stood, catching the attention of everyone sat at the table.

"If even one more of you refers to me as 'she' rather than just fucking talking directly to me I am going to end up sirening one of your asses!" I demanded, seething with anger. A grin broke out on Thor's face.

"Atta girl, I like this one already!" He laughed and I sat down again, smiling contented ay his compliment.

"She's got Tony's patience, all right." Another man remarked with a smirk. Steve simply rolled his eyes as common menus about my attitude were thrown around the room. Finally, someone addressed me. It was a woman with Blonde hair and kind eyes. She looked motherly.

"Hey, I'm pepper." She smiled kindly and I quickly reciprocated it. They went around the table - the man who had commented about my patience was called Clint, the blonde man was was indeed called Thor and obviously I'd already met Bruce and Steve.

"I'm y/n." I returned and she repeated my name in her beautiful voice, almost as if she was testing how I'd felt in her mouth.

"Y/n. A stunning name for a stunning lady." Thor commented, boyish grin still in place and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"Oh, cut it out big guy - you're like, a billion times her age." A voice came from the door and we all turned to find out who it was.

"Tony. I wasn't aware you'd be joining us." Steve said in a monotone voice and Tony gave him a tight smile.

"You don't get everything your way, Capsicle. Now, who's this?" Tony said, stuffing a mouthful of blueberries in his mouth before stuffing the bag of food in his back pocket and motioning to me with a nod.

"Tony, this is y/n," Bruce said moving out the way from where he was standing so Tony could see my face. The man's eyes widened instantly as the recognition sank in. "Y/n Stark."

[demons-fanatic]

Rosaria: Our Lady, Holy Mother

So, I've been replaying Dark Souls 3 and during so, I've honestly been realizing way more about some characters and really indulging in them. One of them is Rosaria, Mother of Rebirth.

Warning: Spoilers for Dark Souls 3 for the ENTIRE post below!

In Dark Souls 3, there's a particularly interesting character named Rosaria. She leads a covenant called "Rosaria's Fingers" which are directly opposed to the Way of Blue and Blades of the Darkmoon. Which leads us to our first major point; Who is Rosaria and why does she hate the Gods?

At first glance at her character, Rosaria is really dark. As in literally dark, her black clothes, black hair... etc. Opposed to the Gods who are usually represented by White or Divine Colors(See Gwyn's Family) and I'm not sure if it's really intentional but it is something that is obvious. Next, what exactly does Rosaria represent or what is her place in the Dark Souls world? For this, we must look at a Japanese Myth.

The Story of Izanami(伊弉冉尊) and Izanagi(イザナギ) is the basic creation Myth for Japan. They were both the first Man and Woman, they created the first land. They did so with a Spear that was gifted to them and then created the Great Sea. They birthed two children, Hiruko(蛭子) and Awashima(粟島), Hiruko in particular meaning "Leech Child". After giving birth to Kaga-tsuchi(火之迦具土, Literally "Shrine of Flame"), Izanami dies and is sent to the Underworld, becoming the Goddess of Death. Izanagi comes to look for her and while going there, Izanami tells Izanagi not to look at her. However, he does anyways revealing the Underworld has permanently obstructed her form. This terrified Izanagi and he left her in the Underworld. After this, Izanami proclaimed she would kill one thousand people a day but Izanagi said he would father a thousand and five hundred more a day. They were officially divorced in this event.

As we can tell, there are a lot of interesting things we can gather once we connect Izanami to Rosaria. And you might be asking... can we even do that? Well, yes. Rosaria is connected to divinity in some way. Only large people are seen to be deific and once we get Rosaria's Soul(I'll get to that later) we can acquire Gwynevere's Miracles meaning even if she wasn't a god, she was heavily connected to the Gods in such a way she knew and or used these Miracles. It is also worth mentioning that Leonhard calls her a Goddess, but that could be due to his adoration. The other connection is that in some way, Rosaria was betrayed by the Gods so badly she now garners followers in the hopes they will kill members of Royal Covenants and steal something taken from her, tongues. Another connection is Hiruko and the Slug in Rosaria's lap, Hiruko was considered inadequate as a Child and deformed, as you can tell the creature that lays on Rosaria is definitely a deformed creature, similar to the Man Grubs, possibly her Child as it is the biggest(this has no evidence what-so-ever). The last connection is also something pretty interesting; The Deep and the concept of "Kegare(穢れ)".

This leads into a lot, so be wary of this part if you want to read it. So, in Shintoism, water is a very important part of the entire thing. Along with this is the concept of purity through flowing water or "Harae(祓)". Flowing things, especially water, is clear and clean unlike still water which collects grime and impurities. Of course, you want to be clean, right? Well, this is the concept. Flow is good, stagnation is bad. While we are stagnant, whether spiritually or physically, we collect impurities and do not really do anything. You may ask... How does this relate to Rosaria, specifically the connection of her and Izanami? Well, let's look at the place she's at. I don't even mean her room but the entire location. The Cathedral of the Deep is full of Kegare, absolutely full of it. All of the water is disgusting and muddy and mucky, poison comes out of the faucets and the foundation of the Cathedral is sinking. The entirety of the Deep is also just Kegare, but I plan on making a post just on that. So, yes, Rosaria is surrounded by Kegare and so was Izanami. The Underworld filled her with impurities and deformed her entire body. Rosaria seems to be very dirty herself, in her hair is slime and she lacks a tongue, which was stolen from her. Both Women are considered deformed and dirty and are surrounded by stagnation. Rosaria herself does not move and only sits in her Chamber, same with Izanami only staying in the Underworld, stagnating, in a way. Now, this is not extremely high evidence but it is an interesting connection that could explain Rosaria's role and some of her inspiration.

Next is another connection but this time it's in the Universe. This one is quite obvious if you've played Dark Souls 1 and this is Rosaria and Anastacia. Both scenarios play out very similarly. Their Souls are stolen by Men who bring their Souls to Anor Londo but for different reasons. Lautrec's is actually never stated and thusly is unrelated. But Leonhard's is because he wishes for no one else to have her. Claiming that you and most likely everyone else will just steal it too. Why they have similar plotlines, I have no idea and it doesn't really make sense. Though, it is possible that Rosaria is a Firekeeper of some sort as she can Respec(reset skill points) the Player Character and the only other Character's in the series who can do that are Firekeepers. However, her Soul doesn't look like a Firekeeper's(reference below)

(Rosariaiis's Soul)

(Fire Keeper Soul)

Admittedly, it does look like a bit of Humanity is swirling in her Soul, compared to others but, who knows. She probably is a Firekeeper but we'll probably never get an answer on that. And by the end, Anastasia does have her tongue back but for some reason Rosaria does not and it is absolutely not clear why this is the case.

Next, let's talk about the bit of lore she does have. It's said that her tongue was stolen from her First Born and that could be a lot of people. First off, it does imply more Children and that does fit with something later. So, who is this first Child? Well, most signs point to Aldrich, whose Bodily slime is actually near the doors of Rosaria's Chamber, this proves not a lot but given the fact Aldrich is a cannibal, he definitely did something to her whether or not it be he stole her tongue. But of course, why wouldn't he eat all of her? It's kind of confusing and this part of the lore is extremely lackluster and even if you think about it you can't get anywhere.

Next, let's talk about her Covenant, but before we do that let's ask another question. Is Rosaria someone we have seen before? Well, if you're telling yourself "Hm, she sounds like she could definitely be Gwynevere" you'd be right. Not that she is Gwynevere confirmed but more signs point to yes than no... Let's go over the evidence:

Is a Goddess

Connections to Miracles about Gwynevere

Connections to the Old Gods in some form

Has Children(Amazing point, I know)

Have Magical Abilities

GNow, I know this isn't much but all together it is pretty telling evidence that something is afoot with the connections. Your first thought of it being against is "Oh, well yes it's possible but isn't Gwynevere like 40 feet tall" and well, no, not really. Even in DS1 this can be debunked in the same room(sorta). We all know Gwynevere is an illusion, so how do we know her real size? Well, in the Ornstein and Smough Boss Room we see these statues .

As we can see, Gwynevere is almost as tall as the Gwyn statue which is basically built to scale. Presumably, anyways. And as we can see, Gwynevere is not as big but she is pretty tall. Now, let's compare it to Rosaria(with Player scale too):

(Source)

As we can see, this height is actually plausible. Rosaria isn't actually that much taller or bigger. Her legs are long and torso about the same size. The next point against it though is the names... Rosaria is obviously not the same as Gwynevere. But, assuming that if you're running away from your family, you'd change your name too. And the Miracle she gives with her Soul, Bountiful Sunlight, which mentions Gwynevere's occupation as a Mother and Wife. This obviously fits in with Rosaria's mentioned child and children, assumedly. But, it's never said that she was married. But, Gwynevere is married, to the God, Flann. They could be hinting at the fact that either Rosaria is Gwynevere's daughter or her, herself.

Another suspect of who she could be is the Queen of Lothric. We know the Queen left after her Husband became mad with the power of the Dragon. There is also evidence for this. Gertrude, the Heavenly Daughter, is said to be the Daughter of the Queen, Rosaria is surrounded by Man-Grubs that are reborn via her and there is actually a Man-Grub near Gertrude's cage. The Queen is said to have several Heavenly Children and the Queen is also compared to a Goddess of Fertility and Bounty(Gwynevere). Rosaria is considered a Goddess and the Queen was worshipped as a Goddess for sure. Another Child of the Queen is the Dancer of the Boreal Valley, how do we know this? Well, the Dancer's Soul gives another of Gwynevere's Miracles, Soothing Sunlight which explicitly states the Dancer is a member of the Old Royal Family, at least for the most part as in it's in her tree. So, how does this connect back the the Queen and Rosaria? Well, it's very much told this way with Miracles the Queen is the Daughter of Gwynevere, who was also her Maiden and carried on the stories of her Mother to her Children. This does make the most sense in comparison to her actually being Gwynevere, but, options. Rosaria's tongue though is still a mystery, I have no idea if her firstborn(presumably Lorian or Aldrich but... that has no evidence) stole her tongue and if that's the case, why. It could just be apart of the hellscape that is Dark Souls 3's lore.

So let's talk about the covenant, Rosaria's Fingers. As to why they are called as such, I am actually not sure and it honestly seems to hold no important to what I see. The member's of this Covenant have a prefix regarding names of specific finger's, somewhat. Yellowfinger is not really a finger. There's also the symbol for the covenant which is actually the Papal Cross of the Christian Religion and is the Emblem of the Pope, there is actually a Pope in Dark Souls 3 in the form of Sulyvahn but there seems to be no connection other than Aldrich being connected to Sulyvahn and that's really it. Rosaria's Fingers collect the tongues of their foes, which are the Way of Blue and Blades of the Darkmoon, two covenants that are explicitly connected to the Old Gods. Obviously, this tells us that Rosaria not only hates the Old Gods but it's possibly they are the ones that stole her tongue from her. Meaning her firstborn is most likely connected to the Old Gods, but as given before, that was obvious. It is either that or the Old Gods have disrupted her in some other way. In other aspects of the Covenant, Rosaria gives the option of Rebirth(or Respec'ing) which basically lets someone reallocate their skills, what implications this has in the universe is completely unknown and is probably just a way to make yourself stronger. You can rebirth yourself in-universe until you become a Man-Grub, and it's basically literally what the name implies. But the descriptions imply it might not be that simple. Some of them wield staffs that cast holy spear spells to protect Rosaria. Why she can do this is not clear, nor why it happens is not clear either. It doesn't seem that she hates her subjects or anything of the sort, so it could just be a curse she has given her abilities.

Rosaria doesn't really have a lot to her character, along with that she barely has lore, unfortunately and all that can be gathered aside from the only clearly stated things is guesswork and it's not that much fun. The only cut things that have come from her is a cut Boss Track related to her(interesting to note this track IS similar to the Dancer's who is interestingly not a Boss at first), whether she was the boss or not, is not clear.

Unfortunately, this seems to be all that Rosaria has to her but if you know anything else or want to correct some information for me please do so! I'll gladly edit something things and I might add more. My next post is hopefully going to be the Angelic Faith of Lothric and the Primordial Serpents.

[ginkgomoon]

Lucien's Iridescent- Analysis

Finally, some more Lucien-based content! I'm so sorry for the wait, Lucien stans! If you’re out there please let me know so I can say hello to you individually and ask questions about your fav!! I want to interact with the community more so I can expand my knowledge and perception on the different characters and aspects of the game. I’d honestly love to have a chat about MLQC anytime! I didn’t expect to be posting this today because this is one is a freshie! (Started working on it today, and posted up today, unlike the other hundred that I have drafted...) Lots of spoilers for the character of Lucien and for future content. Please do not read if you don’t want spoilers! Thank you! Hope you enjoy!! 🌈 💜

Iridescent definition-

“Showing luminous colours that seem to change when seen from different angles.”

Origins

The pen is originally brought over from England, where Lucien was studying when he was younger. It actually belonged to a Granny before Lucien, and she told him, "give this luck to the special someone when you meet her."

Lucien didn't really care for the pen that much other than that, though.

"Although I had always felt that he was not gentle with me, this time I knew he did care for me. My joy didn't last for more than ten seconds, when my owner took me back and gave me a faint glance, and then gave his full attention the girl."

Also, it's tiny bit ironic about how Lucien can't see colour and names the pen "Iridescent".

"A rainbow! It's my favourite scene- that's where my name came from. But my owner can't see the rainbow. he doesn't know how to appreciate these colours." -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

Iridescent and MC

“This is for you."

A silvery- white steel pen glinted in the sunlight with an "X" etched prominently into its surface. (The "X" refers to his Chinese name, "Xu mo")

MC: "Isn't this the pen you left in the set the first time you were on the show?"

"Yes, at the time I rushed back to the set. Everyone had left but one girl was still foolishly sitting there, just to give me this pen. For the first time I thought, compared to my own actions of running back there, she didn't seem that foolish at all."

His lips curved up in a smile, and his eyes softened.

"It wasn't foolish. I was slower than you, but afterwards, I saw."

I didn't understand what he meant. I tilted my head and looked at Lucien. His eyes were streaked with shadow and light by the sunshine.

MC: "Why are you giving me the pen?"

"The pen has a name. It's called Iridescent. It's a lucky charm that's been with me for many years. Now, this luck belongs to you."

Lucien opened my hand and placed the pen in it, then closed my hand back over it with an assertive force.

"It's just a pen. Take it."

Lucien turned his head and looked at me, the sunlight glistening on his lips, clear and warm. -Chapter 13-10

Lucien gave a lot of thought into giving MC the pen.

"He had been staring at me for so long his gaze almost penetrated me! My owner had always been very decisive and unwavering, but this time, I could feel his hesitation. What was it for?"

But why?

"At the moment I was a little dizzy, and thought, am I now a "love token"?" -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

I would argue multiple reasons actually. Firstly, as Iridescent itself stated, it was used as a "love exchange"- a silent confession that he loves her. He uses this pen for his work, and since this "work" was focused on the QUEEN and BLACK SWAN, it was almost like a declaration that what Lucien had owned- what Ares will soon gain, that no matter what, both personas would be by her side.

He knows that she's always in danger, from others and from himself, so he silently hopes that this pen in becoming that "lucky charm" would also help her so that she wouldn't really get caught and tied up in BLACK SWAN business.

It serves as a reminder for himself too, that a part of him will always be kept close to her. And like how its name is Iridescent, that aspect of him that can see colour is being surrendered back to her, because only with MC, can Lucien finally witness colours of the rainbow.

But of course, like all rainbows, they don't last forever, and MC uses this pen- in the name of colour- his weaknesses and the symbolism and connection of their relationship- against him.

MC: “Why?”

“I warned you before. You still had time to run too bad, you had no awareness of danger. Or one could say, you trusted me too much.”

He spoke in a tone that was provocative and mocking.

With ease, he ripped open a scar that hadn’t fully healed, and my tears came pouring out.

I don’t know why, but in that instant, I seemed to see a flash of sorrow in his eyes. But in less than half a second, he had resumed his composure. Then he pursed his lips and made a faint smile.

Thick blackness surrounded him. Even the brightest of setting suns couldn’t reach him.

But I still hoped that the hint of sorrow I caught was real. I hoped that he was still the way he used to pretend to be. But then why did his eyes seem so sincere?

Even now, I wasn’t willing to completely believe. My heart told me that it wasn’t lies.

Helping me save my final show was real. Rescuing me from danger was real. Every bit of encouragement and help was all real.

If all of that was real, how could the person in front of me now be fake?

I strained to find in his eyes any sign of pain, struggle, even a moment’s hesitation. But there was none.

There was nothing at all. We were like two strangers.

“Ares, what are you waiting for?”

I don’t know where my strength came from, but in an instant, I held something sharp to my neck. I tremblingly held the pen, sensing the bitter taste in my throat.

Seeing my action, everyone froze.

How ironic! He clearly gave it to me as a gift, and now it was carrying out its mission like this.

“You won’t do it.”

My neck was in terrible pain, and half my body was going numb.

I didn’t even realise that a trickle of blood was streaming down my neck. We stood there, neither of us was moving.

“Don’t do anything foolish.”

You’re right, I am too foolish. When I was at my lowest, he held out a hand of friendship to me and I took it in with full trust.

And now here he was again, saying that same voice I was so familiar with, that was all a trap.

He stood there, aloof and cold, with all those emotions swirling in his eyes that I never understood before. Now I final understand. It was the thrill of laying a trap and the joy of watching your prey take the bait.

MC: “Let me go.”

“You think you can negotiate with me?”

MC: “You still owe me a thank you gift.”

A tear rolled down my face silently. (This line killed me.)

He smiled mockingly.

“I can let you go, but next time, you won’t get such an opportunity. Don’t let me catch you next time.” (In other words he means, "pen you did well, now she can escape.")

MC: “Next time I won’t trust you, Ares. I will never trust you again. Because you aren’t Lucien. He would never harm me. They have nothing to do with each other!”

He turned but said nothing. That was the last time I saw a gentle look in his eye. Then he looked up at the sky as his whole body emerged into the shadows, and he continued onwards.

The pen fell from my hand onto the ground. The “X” etched onto it gleaming, seemingly telling me a story. -Chapter 13-19

"I saw the pain in my owners eyes and felt the trembling of the girl's right hand passing through me... grasping me as she left, she could not control her shaking body. She seemed to be holding onto me with all her strength, as if I was her only support.

I was accidentally dropped to the ground and rolling into the dust. but the girl didn't seem to notice, as she was in a trance looking up at the kites in the sky. But the girl crouched down to pick me up and gently wiped the dust off of me. Everyday at nightfall, I knew how much pain she endured and how much she cried in her sleep. I thought she would abandon me, but she did not... -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

n a way, it's also a silent promise, or a reason for him to keep returning to her. The tie that she always clutches secretly in her pocket that she, too, still cares for him and still thinks of him. MC still evens put the effort in the take care of Iridescent, making sure it doesn't get lost or broken. This is similar to how the ginkgo bracelet is a form of support from Gavin to MC.

As I put away my camera, I again reflexively felt around inside-

MC: “Oh no!”

A ball of sweat fell from my forehead. Where was that pen!?

A single possibility suddenly presented itself to me- but another thought immediately supplanted it-

MC: “It’s his anyway. The staff will give it back to him…”

Having confidently convinced myself with that reasoning, I left.

See how they're back to how they were from the beginning- where she was starting to get to know “Lucien”, but now she’s starting to view him as “Ares”. The two personas correlating to this one pen.

I banged my head on the table. I clutched my head in pain, and the metal pen rolled away, stopping before a pair of black shoes. Then I saw a slender hand daintily pick it up.

“You came back to find this?”

He looked at me with a playful look on his face. He raised his eyebrows and held the pen in front.

“Don’t lose it again.”

I reached out for it, but that sunny late spring day suddenly flashed before my eyes, and I started to regain my posture. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back for it.

MC: “Never mind, I’m always losing things. And it doesn’t belong to me anyway. At this point, it should go back to its original owner.”

He slowly and deliberately put the pen away, then gave as light nod. -Chapter 16-11

"With determination, the girl gave me back to my owner. The moment he took me, the last thread linking them together seemed to have broken. My owner withdraw his gaze from her and after a long time he said softly, "my little fool". The words sounded unfinished, with untold tenderness hidden behind them. But in my opinion, should the fool refer to my intelligent owner himself?

I couldn't help but think, did my owner lose his colours? Or will he find them again, someday? Because, those who have seen the rich colours of the rainbow, would not be reconciled with grey again." -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

But in the end, the pen was returned back to MC.

Lucien carefully took out the pen from his pocket and placed it in the girl's hand. The he leaned over and whispered into her ear-

"Next time, don't rush into danger by yourself. Especially on my account." -Chapter 16-22

Like how Lucien would always come back to her- Ares or not, because those are his true colours- that Lucien, like how he’s also “iridescent”, would show all sides of him to her, and that he would love MC no matter which side he's on.

[fayeimara]

Kuroo Tetsuro || Freefall

*Song Scenario | Inspired by Devil Eyes by Hippie Sabotage*

PAIRING. Kuroo Tetsuro x you

GENRE. Fluff

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

The breeze shifts through and lifts your hair, cooling the surface of your body from the midsummer heat, as you stand at the peak of the bluffs and stare down into the dark, seemingly eerie depths of the bay. Joyful squeals and deep hollers echo around you, an erratic staccato from both your group and another, at times torn away with the wind.

"Scared?" The amused mono-syllabic question tears you away from your contemplation and you lock eyes with one of the boys from the other group, his golden gaze searing into yours, somehow more scorching than the sun high in the sky above you.

"Not exactly." You tilt your head back and close your eyes before you answer with what you know he just may never understand, "Just working myself up."

He laughs a little, but it's not mocking.. or confused, it's actually appreciative like he's already caught your vibe, "You're building the apprehension."

Your eyes pop open and slide over to him again in surprise, "Exactly."

"More of an adrenaline rush with the anticipation, the deeper you psyche yourself out."

"Before letting go and freefalling."

"Wow." He definitely sounds appreciative and his unusual gemlike eyes are burning with a curious desire, "Can I join you?"

You finally smile then, just a curl of your lips up, and tilt your head in a silent answer.

The two of you stand at the edge and look over, enjoying the sharp tug of the breeze, even when it threatens to shove you over without your choice in the matter. Studying the churning water below and savouring the sounds of excitement emanating from your friends behind you as people inconsistently dive in. Allowing it all to weave together and spiral into the most natural high.

"Kuroooo!" You're startled as a tan, black and whited haired blur passes just by you, breaking your balance and threatening to drag you over with him.

The guy next to you grabs your elbow to steady you, heat from his hand curling into your skin, as he laughs at his exuberant friend who literally hurls himself off the cliff, jumping incredibly high and reaching a near impossible peak before he begins to drop in.

You can't help but laugh too, because that was just beautiful to see, and then take a deep, smiling breath before looking over to the boy called Kuroo and state, "I'm ready to fall."

His eyes widen at your choice of words but you just smirk and back up for your own approach. Your friends get louder, calling out your name and cheering you on as a wide grin takes over your previous unreadable face.

You take two steps only to find your way blocked by the towering stranger, "You said I could join you."

"Yeah, for the buildup..?" You blink in confusion but he's already prepared with his counter as if he expected your response.

"Will you let me 'fall' with you? Just say jump and I won't even ask how high." He grins unabashedly and you twist your lips to try and hide your answering smile.

"I'm not holding hands with you or anything." You concede with a shrug even as you narrow your eyes on him. But he just laughs before leaning in and trapping you in that mesmerizing gaze again, this time too close to escape with force of will alone.

"Who said I'd hold you while you fell?" His voice is low and teasing.

You roll your eyes and cut back, "Not you, I guess, asking a complete stranger if you can fall with her."

"A completely gorgeous stranger, sure." His sly grin sends another rush of heat through you, as if you weren't close to a heat stroke anyways.

"Right. And I'm still supposed to believe you don't want to hold my hand when we fall, like some cheesy meet-cute."

"Bold of you to call this a meet-cute."

"Isn't it, though?" You raise an eyebrow in challenge, "But what will we tell the kids? Daddy didn't let mommy jump so she pushed him in, I guess."

He does blush then, even while he's laughing in complete awe and amusement at your provocative banter; he's a stunning sight to behold, for sure. Regardless, you smirk in victory as he swallows and runs a hand through his hair, responding, "Sure, let's save that for the next story though. I want be able to tell them we chose to dive right in together first."

"You can tell them that," You shake your head at his flirting and sidestep, starting your run to the edge and calling over your shoulder, "-if you manage to keep up!"

You vault into the open air on your last word, eyes and grin wide as you're momentarily suspended before the breeze turns into a gale force and you're really falling through the space. The water rushes up to you at an unbelievably pace and you slap your hand over the lower half of your face, but just before you close your eyes, you see red shorts and raven-hair drop into the water beside you. And then you're engulfed too, shooting down and opening your eyes to look into the murky nothingness.

Using both your hands to propel yourself up, you finally break through the surface of the water, pushing your hair back and gasping with laughter, and meet eyes with the previously bedheaded boy who's surfaced just in front of you with his hair finally tamed down with the water.

The two of you are so close, you're brushing against each other as you tread but you're both laughing and paying it no mind. No, you're more struck by the way his arm flexes as he moves his hand up to slick his hair back, and the unruly dark strands that escape his attempt and fall back over his right side. Your eyes trace the drops of water as they tip off the ends to grace his cheeks and caress down over his face, neck, and finally chest before rejoining all the other drops that come together and create the bay.

You're so busy observing him, you miss how he watches you in return. He's captivated by the swirling locks of your hair, curling as if they're melting into the ripples of water around you. He can't help but be caught in the curve of your lips as you hold that curious, small smile, the one he saw peek out as he studied you earlier, before making the move to approach the beautiful girl lost in a thrall to the water below her.

He traces his gaze over that smile, wondering how he can continue to entice it forward, along with that beguiling look in your eye, the one that answers the call to adventure with an irresistible sparkle. He's staring directly into your eyes, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, when you finally pull your gaze back to him.

There's a moment of easy silence, spent with mutual, secret smiles and an undeniable connection, before you finally make the move to break away. As you start to swim back towards the sandy shore next to the outcropping of the bluffs, he moves as well, to keep pace next to you, and declares, "Looks like I get to tell the kids how much I liked falling in with you."

You hope you got enough sun on your cheeks today to cover the certain blush at his words. He's definitely a cheeky, persistent one. You don't respond as you reach the shore and he extends a hand out to help you against the current of the waves lapping back and forth from the sand, threatening to drag you with it. You curl your fingers into his with butterflies lifting off somewhere inside as he tugs you forward, but you stumble into him instead, your hand finding his bare chest for balance.

Oh.

Your blush deepens and you can't help but look up in that embarrassing moment to find him looking down at you with a wicked sparkle in those golden eyes and a knowing smirk that remains long after you move your hand and step away, feet sinking into warm grains of sand.

"Well, at this point, I guess we might as well hold hands on the next one." His tone is light and teasing, but still he gives you an out so you look back at him in amusement and he manages a cavalier shrug, trailing behind you as you both head for the path back up to the bluffs, "For the kids, you know."

You decide you've been at a little more of a disadvantage in this game between the two of you and throw back, "But I never promised I'd hold you when you fell?"

"Aw, that's just mean, Kitten. Didn't I just save you from the waves?" His voice is teasing but you refuse to blush at the mention of that too recent intimate moment.

"Says the guy that literally told me the same thing not even ten minutes ago."

You both reach the top before he answers and when he does, it sets off a warmth incomparable to the sun, a warmth you realizing you've been wrapped in and enjoying since his very first word to you.

"I might not always hold you as you fall, you may not even want me to." You feel his warm, callused hand slip into yours as he speaks, moving up beside you again as you both begin to walk back your groups, "But if you let me fall by your side, I swear I'll always be there to catch you."

A/N: I need to figure out how to format these posts :( Anyways, I don't know how I feel about this one either, but I hope you guys enjoy it :) <3

If you liked reading this and decide you want more Kuroo (or Haikyuu boys in general), feel free to check out my Meant To Be SMAU series!

© 2021 fayeimara. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.

[sitontheground]

#WitchesForBLM

So, I know I don't exactly post much, if at all, but in light of recent events in the US the majority of witches on both tumblr and tik tok have decided that on Friday June 5th, we were all going to be casting spells of protection for the protesters as well as hexing and cursing the cops and the white supremacists who oppose them.

While I am not American (I'm from Canada) nor am I a person of color but I have always been one for activism and fighting for the rights of those whose voices aren't heard or are purposefully silenced. I don't post about it because I don't post much of anything at all. This platform, for me, isn't about making my voice heard but appreciating others' work and words. I also don't particularly care for speaking about my craft much because it is something I find very personal and don't much wish to have others peering in on my personal affairs.

And yet, despite my private nature and lack of desire to post about my activism, I have made the decision to share what I did during the full moon to work this cause into my craft.

For any who have questions or complaints about how I did what I did or why, my craft is my own and I just follow what feels right. If you try and do or say anything to me that I feel is in anyway attacking me and my practice I'm just going to block you. You have no place sticking your nose in my work and I'll not thank you for it.

My Full Moon BLM Support Ritual

As a preface, a lot of the ingredients and items I used were already prepared. Most by happenstance as they are things that I typically keep on hand. The only thing I didn't have in my back pocket before I began was one of the sigils I used.

I also meditated facing the south. Facing the direction of the people I wanted to protect.

Ingredients:

Charged water (I used storm water*)

Charged crystal (I used my fluorite point for the reason that it often amplifies my emotions*)

Needle

Black thread

Orange paper**

Purple paper**

Stick of charcoal (for drawing)

Sigil of protection

Sigil to hex the oppressors

Sachet of protection powder***

Music to increase emotion**** (optional, to be played during both halves of the ritual)

Note: both of the sigils that I used will be shown below

I started when I heard whispers from the witchblr community members that I follow about the full moon being used to help the protesters. That day there was a storm where I live so I was already collecting storm water, but I made sure to separate some for the specific intent of using it on the full moon.

Friday night, I gathered my ingredients and created a sigil for protecting the protesters. I am aware that the eclipse would likely have a negative effect on most protection spells, but the spell I used was one that I created and use without the power of the full moon more often than not. The power of the spell comes entirely from a sacrifice I make for it, which I will explain in more detail later.

Take the storm water, the sigil of protection and the protection powder.

Meditate on the sigil to charge it.

Take a pinch of the powder (A Pinch. You don't need more than that!!!) and sprinkle it in the water.

Swirl the water clockwise 3 times to increase the power of the powder while mixing it in (I had the water in a small Mason jar with a lid so I could swirl it in large movements to incorporate the powder properly without spilling)

Take your right index finger and dip it in the water

Drip 3 drops onto the paper with the sigil

Meditate on the sigil again, focusing on the power of the water sinking into the lines of the sigil

Drink the water with the protection powder to cast the spell

Fold the paper with the sigil on it 3 times, being careful not to rip the wet paper, and leave it in a window or outside until daylight.

Note: the protection powder tastes Bad. Really really really bad. This is why a pinch is more than enough. I usually keep something around to wash the taste out of my mouth when everything is all said and done. This time I used hibiscus water, but usually I use tea.

And that's all there is to the first part of the ritual. Really that can be done at anytime for anyone as long as you have a sigil that corresponds with them.

The next part of this was the part where I actually drew upon the power of the moon.

Take the other sigil, the needle and black thread, and the charged crystal.

Meditate with the crystal in your dominant hand and the hexing sigil in your other focusing on the power that the crystal is feeding into you and pushing it out with your intent through the sigil in order to truly focus the energy you're sending out.

Tear the paper with the sigil on it in until it is in small pieces. As you rend it apart, feel the fire of your anger and the anger of all those fighting for this cause and send it out into the world with every tear in the paper.

Using the needle and the black thread, pierce the center of every piece of the paper until they are all strung up.

Bring all of the pieces together on the string and wrap the thread around the 3 times

Tie a knot in the thread.

Wrap the thread and tie the knot 2 more times.

Cut the thread and cast away the bundle of thread and paper however you see fit (burning, burying, tossing in the trash. whatever works for you)

And that’s that on that. I began my work at midnight on the full moon and when I was finished I was exhausted. I had a headache and my hands were shaking and I just wanted to crawl into my bed so much that I almost forgot to ground myself at the end which would have made everything so much worse the next time I woke. If I were to do it again, and I probably will, I’d make sure to give myself some time in between spells, which I did not in this case. In fact, I’d suggest that if you were to attempt something similar to this you should do them completely separately. However, due to that fact that the moon was in Gemini it felt right for me to complete two spells during it.

And now onto the notes.

*In regards to my choices of charged water and crystal, I have to note that I base my practice by what feels right at the moment. I’ve gone into spells with something in my hand that, by the time I get around to using it during the casting process, it no longer feels like the right tool/ingredient to use and I have gone to find what does feel right, or at least what feels best. The use of storm water has to due with how the chaos and anger that comes from the people on the front lines of this movement feels to me like a storm overhead. They were patient and they brewed this storm for centuries, waiting for us to notice it and do something to lessen the blow that it would cause. But eventually, as all storm must, the thunder rang out and the sweeping gales of wind told everyone just what was going on. Storm water, for this particular variation of my protection spell, seemed very appropriate. I used my fluorite point because whenever I’m working a particularly emotional spell, whether it is my emotion or someone else’s, I use this crystal because it amplifies what I’m feeling and it gives that emotion power.

Also this is my fluorite point.

**As most will suspect, the colors of the paper do signify different things, but if you don’t just happen to have colored paper hanging around white paper would work too. Again this was something that I just figured felt right at the time. I used the purple paper for the protection sigil. Purple, to me, is a regal color that signifies wisdom, power and good fortune. I used the orange paper for the hexing sigil because orange is the most infuriating and aggressive color I could think of (psychologically speaking the color orange is the most likely to send a person into a fit of rage). 

***Alright, so for most of the above I have been rather vague when it comes to the protection powder, but that’s because it is a recipe of my own creation that I have reliably used for a couple of years now and I’m proud of it. It was one of the first things I ever did when I started my craft and I haven’t ever felt like something that I should spread to the masses. Now, however, I don’t feel that same hesitation when it comes to giving the recipe so here it is. 

1 part garlic powder

1 part  cumin

2 parts cinnamon

1 park Himalayan pink salt

1 sprig of cedar, dried and crushed as small as you can make it

When I first made this recipe, I didn’t do anything with it besides mix it all together and put it in a small velvet bag that I got with an old pair of headphones. I soon learned that just mixing together a couple of spices doesn’t exactly create a protection spell and thought it a failure. right as I was about to tear the page with the recipe from my spell book, I decided to meditate on it for a while. That night, I took the little bag with the powder into both of my hands and began to meditate. When I came out of it, I realized that 4 hours had passed by and I could feel the energy from the powder in the bag. So, to make long stories short, you have to key this powder to yourself first. Since then, I have used it as a protection for others by using the same powder that I mixed a couple of years ago that has protected me for that long. I take some of that powder and, using the charged water, I key it to the other that I want to protect, and then by drinking the water I am sacrificing the strength of my protection spell in order to cast one on someone else. This is why I didn’t see an issue doing this spell during the eclipse, which I have read can be a force of undoing. I had no issue casting a hex during the eclipse because I wanted to see the undoing of those that I was trying to hex, but the protection spell will not fail because I didn’t pull on the power of the moon.

****Yes, I listen to music while I work. On the night of the full moon, I was listening to Freedom by Beyoncé ft. Kendrick Lamar on repeat during the whole shebang. When I work, I am incredibly focused, so much that even the slightest disturbance to my balance will send the whole spell crashing down at my feet. If I were to work in silence, a single pin drop could cause me to lose focus and the spell could go awry. So, usually I will put on a single song that reflects the work that I am doing. Either that or I go to ambient-mixer.com and find some background sounds that I can customize and put on for myself. I chose the particular song that I did because both artists are POC angd it sends a message that aligns with the intent of both of these spells.

Sigil of Protection

This one I created myself.

Hexing Sigil

This one I did not create myself. The wonderful ceramyn here on tumblr created it, so this is me crediting her work.

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

Hi! I saw you answer an ask about your OC Alyssum and I was instantly pulled in. I went to your list of muses to go read some stuff on her but the link isn't working for some reason. Care to share? 😁 also what other hcs do you have about her (optional w/mugo) 👀

I THINK THAT’S MY FAULT, I keep tagging her as available muse but she’s technically listed as “npc” on the muse post because I didn’t want to introduce her yet (so far story wise, she only appears through dialog and hasn’t popped out yet, hard since she’s at Highgrove and setting is in Hallownest). However, her muse has been... oddly strong lately, I keep drawing and doing tiny rp scenes with her with few friends just to test the waters with her and BOY IT’S KIND OF... INTERESTING.

She might be “oopsie haha murder” kind of character but she’s also playing the nobility part quite well. She’s “polite”, invites bugs for a tea, a little chatter (maybe even a friendly one, she’s capable of it), possibly propositions, no refusal, nice job offers~ or death. One always gets to choose, acting like they have an option but forcefully narrows it to few and plays on mental and emotional state at such circumstances. Tricky~

I have yet to develop the details of her faction and who’s in it but very few people will be. Wasps I already covered, I just have to work around clan leader that’s in contact with Alyssum. Others would be black market dealers (lead merchant), underground snail-mail (postal snail), one of the weavers who’s good with seals and couple of others~ I need to brainstorm on this still. :0

Damn, I already rambled about this and didn’t talk about her much, hold on *throws Alyss tidbits under read more if tumblr allows it to work...*

She was looked after by Magnolia and basically raised by her, some time after she turned to be a queen. Fun tidbits about Magnolia family as a whole, they are not related to one another (mostly) but consider themselves a big family because they took down the previous queen and king of Highgrove while raising from poverty. However, Magnolia and her followers were never kind and forgiving, but with promises that there will be change in balance of the hierarchy, they got a lot of followers and supporters from commoners to usurp the royalty and did so successfully.

Alyssum was young when this happened so while she was somewhat birthed under poverty, she was fully raised as a noble. I don’t have much of her childhood worked out but there isn’t much to say aside from that she was raised and thought under the cruel but rich conditions of the kingdom.

The binding seal on her wings she earned not long before she met Mugo, almost like a sign for maturity and set under higher position in the family and not just as a student. The seals are powerful magic that uses soul, sewed in with magic by the weaver and afterwards trained to use it. It manifests through the shape of petals: swirling, cutting, chipping, slashing or severing, depending on the number of petals created, used, how fast, how they’re choreographed... It’s all soul but she can use regular flower petals that make less damage but not much soul required. Alyss can also use the wings as a shield since the binding is right on them and actually getting through them with anything is worse than trying to cut the metal open. (like, I imagined in game moves, if you know how THK blocks twice then slashes, she does similar things with wings, where she blocks two times but then bursts open the wings to blow the opponent back to the other side of the screen)

But you know, she’s a lady~ Of course she won’t get her hands dirty. :3c She has others to do that for her~

As for her and Mugo... (OH BOY HERE WE GOOOO~!)

I have to say, their relationship and love was rather genuine, it kind of makes me sad it ended up the way it did... With Magnolia, Alyss (and even Zeeke and his family) still visiting Hallownest some time before Pure Vessel was sealed and before infection went crazy (I canonize, by human years, that that was 20ish years before current events, since Hornet seems 15-18ish years old but who knows with bugs~ I just needed approximate idea for the setting). They were at City of tears but Mugo met her somewhere close to it, as she was hiding away from the nobles to explore the outside on her own and spotted Mugo.

Sure, Mugo crushed on her first but when she tested him by giving away her symbol necklace and pedant of White Magnolia for him to sell at black market and get good money, he refused because it was a memento from someone dear to him. It still is... he didn’t take it off because this is when their love was true and pure... Alyss never forget that either. It was very touching to her.

Their relationship was fine, both shared nothing in common but that was such a fun time for both because of it. They were clicking because they were like two different puzzles pieces that do fit together... but sadly, the pieces didn’t give the right picture when one by the other. (don’t you hate when this happens when you’re trying to puzzle grass or sky together?? *shot*) 

Alyssum explained to Mugo how Magnolia works. He didn’t like it one bit, as he ran away from Highgrove partially because they usurped the old rulers and rendered his family’s status almost homeless. Meanwhile, Alyss didn’t like that Mugo kept throwing himself in danger for his job, even if it’s a hobby that means a lot to him, all for sake of survival and geo.

They dated for some time, had fun, but slowly things started kind of... falling apart. The closer Alyss was to heading back to Highgrove the more she pressured Mugo to come with, become part of the family and live with her under riches the Magnolia offers. His counter proposal was, if they’re really in love and she is aware of Magnolia’s wrongdoings, that she would leave them instead and live with him while making the adventures she loved hearing about from him, together. Basically, Mugo put his love for her over riches or anything but Alyss wanted him for herself under the comfort and safety of Magnolia. She couldn’t throw that away, not after building the status and becoming a favorite to Magnolia herself. She thought this was selfish of Mugo but Mugo tried to explain it was for her changing a new leaf and starting over as something good, not ruled by fear and power.

So they started to disagree... argue... and finally physically fight. Of course, Alyss won. Mugo isn’t a fighter. At that moment, it was either she has him or no one does. For Mugo, he could only bark threats. So he did, angered, throwing words he couldn’t even imagine himself doing. When she lighted up her wings, he threatened he will cut them off. So in retribution, she cut him, scaring his face. He saw something or someone completely different then. Mugo ran for his life, leaving Alyss alone.

That was the last time they saw each other, 20ish years ago. Mugo hid away at the lake of Unn and suffered depression and withdrawal for a very long time. As for Alyss... she pulled off something she shouldn’t and Mugo didn’t know about...

He only got one last letter from her, to met her one more time at the Crossroads before she leaves for Highgrove, saying she wants to try one more time and... that she had a surprise for him. He didn’t respond. She waited for him there then left when he never showed...

That was that. :U Until now, at least~ :3 She got to hear about her ex thanks to Zeeke’s shenanigans at the Colosseum~ Oh, what are the odds of the noble meeting and having issues specifically with a certain, scruffy moth~

20 years is quite a bit of time for someone with a heartbreak and power to grow... kind of crazy. Of course she never let go of it. And now she knows he’s still alive too~ Wonder what Alyss will do. :3c