#wild friend appears

[okamirayne]

*a wild friend raises a hand like a school kid*

So I can't believe I've never asked this before because it's been...not really bothering me but I've been curious about it for a while

Hinata...knows, right? Or at least suspects something long before anyone else. Cuz she's giving meaningful looks and comments from the very beginning that no one picks up on, especially not the Dumb Genius Duo, and I find extremely fascinating

Especially the whole thing about Neji needing someone to be there for him. You'd think she'd consider Naruto first considering the context of Neji slipping back into the behaviour Naruto beat out of him, but her first thought is Shikamaru

So, does she know?

*the wild friend keeps hand raised and waits for an answer patiently*

*snorts ceremonial matcha tea off Zachary (her laptop) and turns crazy eyes upon a Wild Friend*

Ah! Oh...wha?....Hinata...

Hinata...knows, right? Or at least suspects something long before anyone else. [...] So, does she know?

*grins manically, salutes, and goes back to snorting ceremonial matcha off poor Zacky*

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 214

“I did an oopsie.” 

Clockwork paused in his work, gaze turning from his work towards his ghostling (it didn’t matter if he was an adult, he’d always be his ghostling) who was smiling nervously, avoiding his eyes. 

“Oh?” He kept his tone light, even as he worked on untangling a time knot. Honestly at least Danny was immune to any effect of time, even if he couldn’t look into his timelines in exchange. It came with being the other half of Infinity. 

“Yeeah… you know that corner of the multiverse you told me not to go to because you’re working on some time problems? I might have stumbled into one of the worlds in the corner…” 

He stopped his machinations, fully turning towards Danny- Space, his Core whispered and quivered in utter delight at having an Equal in power- with a raised eyebrow, leaning on his staff and silently telling him to explain. 

Danny poked his fingers together, giving a nervous laugh. “So uh, I was just exploring right? Well me and Ellie, you know how she gets when she can’t wander, and um… I er, we might have messed with some things in the creation of it… I didn’t know it was part of that universe, I swear! It was so far at the fringes and halfway into the Zone and I couldn’t just let a universe die before it began and-”

Oh- Oh! His ghostling (and his grand-ghostlings it sounded like) had claimed his first universe! He could put off these time knots, this was a grand milestone for any Ancient, nevermind such a primordial force as one of theirs.

And this is how a DC world came into being with humans evolving with more avian traits. Like wings. And claws. Look, Dan thought it’d be funny if they gave baby humanity wings and Ellie started rambling about how much farther they could travel if they had them and Danny thought it could be cool. Oh well, time to keep an eye on their itty baby world now…

[rhapsoddity]

I hope you get your trivia correct~

[outersyourwilds]

Not sure if this has been done before sdfjsjdfh

[chimerafeathers]

[ on youtube ]

a concept for the type of OP i'd love to see for the second season of Dungeon Meshi! both s1 OPs are great, but i'm really hoping for one that captures both the "dangerous fantasy adventure" and "comedic cooking adventure" aspects of the series in equal measure, because it's the integration of those two concepts that makes the series special to me. the joyous whimsy and the dramatic horrors are equally important!!

[isa-the-great-and-powerful]

Proof that @zerosuitsammi3 is in fact, real. :)

It was a hot day, so so hot.

Matching chokers!

[rainy-day-revelry]

Absolutely adoring how the chain seems to have assigned big brother little brother pairings for all of the minors:

Legend who is making sure Hyrule doesn’t overuse his magic and exhaust himself

Warriors who is constantly scruffing Wind to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid

And Twilight who is trying to stop Wild from yeeting himself off the nearest cliff and failing miserably

Peak sibling behavior

[detectivemiku]

y'all im sorry but can we talk about how much of a dork conan looks like-

like our boy is out here regularly wearing suspenders & shorts combo with a red bowtie and oversized glasses. also his uncommon foreign name?? he's just ASKING to be made fun of

if you aren't familiar with the story there's No Way you'd think to take him seriously,, but somehow despite everything he's literally the coolest guy ever and Everyone loves him. like he really does live up to the "cool guy/kid" name, but no one would believe that by looks alone

[lets-try-some-writing]

Death's Embrace

The Thirteenth Prime was never meant to remain on the mortal plane. His work remained in the space between the living realm and the one after. He was to ferry sparks to their destinations, be it to their frames or back to the Allspark where they might find rest. This was his design, and he never rushed the children of Primus to come to him. They would all meet him eventually.

This is what he believed, and so he never tampered... that was until the chosen Primes began to fall.

(Simply put: Thirteen/Optimus is literally death and has to go be a normal mech for a while to figure scrap out)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

He hadn't known what his purpose was at first. He fought the Unmaker alongside his kin and watched them all in mixed love and a degree of apathy. He didn't have a form like theirs, his was nothing but energy barley contained within a shell, and in all honesty, he had no issues with his form. To his knowledge he had no power, no gift like his siblings, and for a time this was acceptable to him.

Then Solus fell and as if a switch had been flipped, he found his design.

His frame changed and shifted, the bindings he hadn't known tied him the mortal realm snapping all at once. Then as he felt the void become accessible to him, he took Solus's spark and he walked with her, leading her along a path he didn't know he knew until she stood before the Allspark. He hardly knew what he was doing as he guided her there, but it felt right and he found himself with a sense of purpose.

When he returned back to the mortal plane, his frame rematerialized and he found his brethren engaged in battle. Where before he might have intervened, now that he knew his purpose, he did not. He watched and offered advice, but he let events play out however Primus wished them to. All his previous opinions and ties fell away and he devoted himself to his task, eventually leading Liege Maximo to the Allspark as well. His brother fought him all the way, but within the void the Thirteenth had as much power as Prima, if not more so. The void between the living realm and the Allspark was his domain, those who walked it were under his dominion.

In the end he watched several of his brothers offer themselves to the well, to which he did not move. He was not needed, for Primus accepted them without his aid. Megatronus was exiled and others fled to the stars, leaving only Primus, Nexus, and Alpha Trion behind. The Thirteenth did nothing save nod to them and wave in farewell before he turned to his new role, allowing his body to fall away so that he might walk the void, watching the world but not interacting with it. That was his reality and he felt more at home in the space between the stars than he ever did walking Cybertron's ground in the closest thing he had to a physical frame. He was the guardian of the fallen, their guide back to Primus, and it was a role he took with joy.

As time passed, Thirteen felt nothing but near parental love for the little children of Primus that emerged from the well that sprang from Solus's spilt energon. He admired their initial purity and accepted the little ones who perished too soon with a loving embrace. His spark sang with sorrow when the little ones came to him, often in tears and confused. However he was always gentle with them, shifting his form slightly to be more appealing and carrying them to the Allspark while singing a soothing song from the age of Primes. The little ones needed him most and he never held anything against them, for they were more pure and innocent than any other.

Older ones came to him with time. They were different, more mature, and with so many more attachments. They were more difficult to guide, often fighting against him in their desire to linger. However Thirteen loved their uniqueness and seeing their experiences as he led them home, sometimes leading him to allow them to walk the world as a specter for a time. Sometimes he spoke with them by taking on voices they knew, other times he merely extended a servo and guided them quietly all while singing his song. He cared not for their actions in life, only that they lived and learned. He washed their pains away and brought them back to Primus, uncaring of who they were in life so long as they did not break the natural laws or turn to the Unmaker.

Thirteen did not weep when the children came to him, nor was he angry when they fought against him, desperate to avoid his embrace for but a moment longer. No, he adored their struggles and their achievements and left most ample time to escape the death that loomed above them. All the children would come to him eventually, there was no need to rush them. Let them live, let them learn, and let them fight for their future. As children of Primus, they had much to do and so many possible roads ahead of them. Thirteen wanted them to live out their lives to the fullest, although he would not turn them away if they came to him sooner than he would have liked.

Sweet little children, his pride and joy. He loved them dearly and always watched on fondly when the most beaten down rose up to become something greater.

He only began to grow concerned when the number of children coming to him increased exponentially with the arrival of others from the stars, Quintessons they called themselves. So many children fell to lack of energon, to injury, to abuse. Thirteen was well aware that some of the children were not kind to their kin, but this was a whole other level of brutality. The children were being changed, he sensed it when they began returning to him and took longer and longer to know who he was.

Even still he did not act. The children would resolve this with the help of Thirteen's fellow Primes and with the aid of Primus's chosen champion. That was the way it always was and that was the way it was supposed to be.

In a way Thirteen was right. A champion was chosen, Sentinel Prime, and he led the children out of the control of the invaders from the stars. He freed them, and after guiding a worrying amount of children to the Allspark, the children stopped coming in such droves for a time. Thirteen was relieved... and then he watched as things grew to be far worse than anything the Quintessons had done.

The Quintessons abused and killed, altering the nature of the children for their own selfish gain. But the mech who called himself Prime did the same and delved further and further into dark territory with experiments, the caste system, and the way he threw lives away in the arenas and the mines. And that for the first time led Thirteen to be enraged. Invaders were not expected to feel love or compassion for those who walked the surface of Cybertron, but an actual child of Primus inflicting that same pain upon his kin? That made Thirteen seethe. He couldn't sit idly by, he couldn't watch it all silently, not when none seemed to be acting.

His kin in the realm of the Primes were not pleased with his deviation, but they allowed it since he couldn't linger for long anyway.

As such Thirteen made a choice he was not at all fond of. For the first time since those early years where he fought alongside his kin, he took on a physical form, at least as much as he could considering his near non-existent tie to the living realm. It was not at all "normal". He had seen plenty of memories and children, but he had never had to recreate what made them so distinctly Cybertronian. His limbs were too long, his denta too sharp, his frame gangly and uneven in places, and his spark chamber partially exposed. It was not what he intended, much less to manifest out in the wilds. Thankfully Alpha Trion seemed to sense his formation and came to collect him, taking him back to the archives and assisting Thirteen in learning how to be like the children he cared for so dearly.

Thirteen stayed with his brother, learning slowly how to be "normal" while he searched for someone capable enough to stop all the death and needless suffering. He was forced to release his form every now and then to guide the sparks that built up back to the Allspark, but most of his time he spent searching. He cared for nothing else, only taking on a name and working in the archives to try and learn how to best approach the situation.

He was largely left alone as most could not sense him. He faded like a shadow, present physically but not projecting the same aura that indicated that he was alive. At most he was asked curt questions before being allowed to continue his work... then he met Ratchet.

Ratchet: Hey! Can you help me find a text on T-cog functionality?

Thirteen: ... Yes.

Ratchet: You don't sound very confident.

Thirteen: You want the text? Follow. I will bring you to it.

Ratchet: Alright. What's your designation if you don't mind me asking? I haven't seen you around here before.

Thirteen: I was granted the designation Orion Pax.

Ratchet: An odd way of saying it, but its nice to meet you Orion.

Thirteen: ... Likewise.

He helped Ratchet and went back to his work of searching without much thought given. Sometimes mecha saw him, and while odd, it happened enough to not be startling. Ratchet was just another mech who would quickly forget him. At least that is what he thought up until Ratchet came back requesting aid again... and again... and again. It kept happening, with Ratchet returning to the archives for new texts and always going to Thirteen specifically.

Before long Ratchet started coming to the archives just to talk to him and all that Thirteen could do was fumble. He was not used to such things and often slipped up while trying to talk with the strange medic who kept tailing him. Often he struggled to speak in a manner that was not fanciful or grim. He was used to having to console and guide sparks, not speak with them on casual terms. There were several instances where he straight up referred to Ratchet as "child" and "young one". The medic laughed at such mistakes and rapidly began worming his way into Thirteen's life in a way he hadn't thought possible.

Thirteen had always been set apart, not truly connected to his siblings or the children of Primus. As such having Ratchet talk with him, get to know him, and introduce him to the living realm was... refreshing. Thirteen only barely noticed when he began seeing himself as the mech that he claimed to be. He was Orion Pax, if only in the living realm. His form even adapted to match that mental shift, with his plating smoothing, his limbs becoming more proportional, and his overall appearance heightening into something that he quickly found that normal mecha saw as pleasing. Even when he shed his mortal frame to do his work, bits and pieces carried over with his form of pure energy shifting to take on characteristics of his identity as Orion Pax.

His search continued, but his focus wavered as he started to connect to mecha in the living realm aside from Ratchet. He found himself getting along with Jazz and learning how to express himself. He came to enjoy the company of his fellow archivists, chatting with them more and more often. He began to enjoy going out to see the sights of the world he had watched over for so long, even smiling when never before had he ever felt the need to do so.

He felt... alive. But evidently his kin saw fit to remind him of the fact that his focus was to lie elsewhere. It was nothing more than a quick warning, but it was enough for Orion to begin letting go of his physical form more often to clear his helm. He couldn't be getting attached, he was to be neutral... and yet after a particularly long stint of him being absent in the living realm, leading to Ratchet literally leading an investigation to find him... he gave up on that front.

Ratchet: ORION!

Orion: Ratchet, my apologies.

Ratchet: DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS!?!

Orion: No, but I can imagine such an emotional response is not comfortable.

Ratchet: You-! ... You are so dumb sometimes.

Ratchet was usually not a very touchy mech, but after Orion's return he wrapped him up in a hug so tight Orion wondered if he was going to snap. Oddly enough, he didn't hate the touch and even leaned into it, enjoying the sensation of aliveness that he usually kept clear of. Ratchet didn't know it and Orion refused to acknowledge it, but after that interaction the embodiment of death was willing to bend his own rules a degree to protect the medic.

Then Megatronus got involved and similarly gained the favor of death incarnate. To Orion he was the perfect mech to fulfill the mission he had originally come to search for a mech worthy of undertaking. When he first met with Megatronus his only intention was to direct the mech toward the path of changing things for the better. Sentinel may have perished and been ferried long ago, but the council remained. Then he began to speak with the gladiator, developing a fondness for the intelligence of the mech before him.

Orion Pax was death, he was supposed to be neutral, and yet Ratchet and Megatronus gained his favor. Orion was awkward, cold, and didn't present very naturally, but for whatever reason his two companions stuck to him like glue. Whatever they did, they dragged him along, a fact that swiftly gained him more associates in Soundwave, Prowl (due to an accidental arrest), and even Senator Shockwave. Orion hadn't expected this, but as Megatronus worked to fulfill the mission of freeing the children of Primus, Orion couldn't find it in himself to dislike the situation.

He was attached, he knew his kin would not be pleased. But Primus, he couldn't help it. He even found himself using his power to aid his newfound attachments as much as he could while still playing within the rules. No one said he couldn't shed his frame to scout and then return with information cryptically. Not a spark said he couldn't use his deathly aura to frighten threats or call upon the chill of death to settle into the frames of aggressors as a silent threat. He wasn't playing favorites, he was just keeping Megatronus safe so that he could complete the mission and perhaps even claim the Matrix.

Only once did he allow anger to bubble within him and lead him to warp his form into something eldritch to fight off an enemy. He did it for the mission, most certainly not because he didn't want to see Megatronus and Ratchet hurt.

Death didn't play favorites... at least that is what he told himself.

[thewatercolours]

October Prompt #9: "Secret Room"

When you go to check out the supposedly haunted house, and discover it's not haunted at all. It's a hideout for a gang of smugglers who play up the spooky reputation to keep nosy parkers away. And then all's said and done, and you've killed the bandit captain and got all his stooges properly arrested, and you decide to revisit the house to pick up your share of the treasure, and decide to have look inside the hidden room you discovered the first time around but didn't go into... and find you might have a sneaking suspicion of the tiniest sort that the house might be haunted after all.

[okamirayne]

*a wild friend just phases into existence before you*

SO! 14 chapters into this masterpiece - I was surprised at my reading speed but then I remembered I once read 14 books in 7 days so I'm actually dallying right now - and can I just say I love how you connected the different groups into the same coherent narrative

Like, how you go from the kids to Kakashi and Genma to Ibiki and so on, it's very dynamic. I hate switching povs usually cuz they tend to slow shit down but you manage to keep everything feeling smooth and fluent. Quite the feat

Also, I adore the dynamic between Neji and Tenten. She deserves so much more than canon gave her and I get the vague feeling you agree xD

I'm also still very intrigued with how you write DID. Media portrayal tends to be very monotone if not malicious, you go for a very nuanced and appropriately unsettling portrayal that feels very respectful. Like, yeah it's terrifying, not because it immediately makes someone do evil shit (Criminal Minds!) but because changes in the mental landscape of a person are really fucking scary.

I'd also like to say you deserve a reward for managing the fucking 180 in the ShikaNeji dynamic compared to BtB without making it redundant. Lots of writers fall into the same patterns over and over until it becomes stale, you absolutely do not belong in that group

Uuuuuum, yeah that's it for now. I won't talk about That Man because I don't want to think about him *sniffs disdainfully* what a turd

So back to it I hop!

*the wild friend just drops onto the floor and keeps reading*

Dammit, Wild Friend...you're getting my Dastardly Twins emotional...

I'm so damned chuffed by this amazing feedback you're generously taking the time out to leave me...Thank You.

Also, I adore the dynamic between Neji and Tenten. She deserves so much more than canon gave her and I get the vague feeling you agree xD

Oh absolutely. I'd have loved to explore her more. I know Kishimoto's focus was predominantly on the male characters (understandably, I suppose, given the genre), which is why the women are interesting to flesh out. Especially secondary characters. I mean don't get me wrong, a deep-dive into Sakura would also be interesting. I touched on it a bit in HHU, but it's too easy to go down character rabbit holes. Must. Contain. Myself.

I'm also still very intrigued with how you write DID.

Thank you, Wild Friend. I hope it was respectfully written within the bounds of creative licence and storytelling. I had to do my homework surrounding this condition for an OC. No research is wasted.

I'd also like to say you deserve a reward for managing the fucking 180 in the ShikaNeji dynamic compared to BtB without making it redundant. Lots of writers fall into the same patterns over and over until it becomes stale, you absolutely do not belong in that group

I'm super happy you think so, Luv. Fortunately their own personal arcs help a lot with that...until of course....THE UNSPEAKABLE CANON HAPPENING...

[absent-enigma]

mothman Horror x reader pt 2 compilation from ao3

While mothman was motionless, you took the opportunity to observe him.

He was massive, wings folded behind powerful shoulders. Soft reddish-orange fur covered the clavicles, collarbone and halfway down the sternum. The upper cervical vertebrae were partially visible. The skull held fluffy antenna, the left one somewhat tattered. In the dim light, you could barely make out a terrible jagged hole in the left-top side of mothman’s skull. The right eye socket was void of light. 

Mothman moved slowly near to hold up a small wooden sign.

‘Horror’ was written on it.

Mothman pointed a claw to it, then himself.

-

“Your name is Horror?”

Horror perked up at your voice. Unable to speak through his current upset, he nodded eagerly in return. He doubted it was enough to jog your memory, but that was okay. He had plenty of items around your shared home to help you remember. 

As much as Horror wanted to hold you close and assure you everything would be okay, as you’d done for him in the past, he couldn’t, wouldn’t do so when you were so wary of him.

Especially now, when you discreetly scooted backward in the nest.

Horror let slip an unhappy whine.

-

A mothman named Horror. 

You weren’t going to judge a book by its cover or name, but you were going to be wary of a massive cryptid creature being so close.

This was likely a case of mistaken identity, but how do you explain that to someone who looked so hopeful yet lost when staring at you? You weren’t sure what would happen if Mothm…Horror decided you were an intruder in his home opposed to someone he thought he knew. 

As dangerous as it might be, and ill-timed, you needed rest to process this situation.

“…mind if I sleep here?”

-

Despite your continued fear and wariness of him nearby, you wanted to sleep here?

Horror couldn’t help but shove his bulk up against the nest to croon sad yet happy noises. Despite  not remembering him, you found the nest acceptable and safe to sleep within. You must like the modifications he’d made at your suggestion. 

If only he could join you; Horror wanted to keep his mate warm and comfortable.

“Safe here.” Horror eventually murmured. “Rest.” Slowly lowering his large body alongside the nest, Horror’s four arms uselessly clutched a stray pillow.

It wasn’t warm and alive like you were.

-

A light brush of your hair woke you from your slumber. By the time you turned over, Horror’s hand drew away to join the two comfortably resting on the side of the nest, his fourth hand used to rest his cheekbone against palm.

Horror, eyelight dilated to fill his socket, gazed down at you with utter adoration.

You swallowed down a scream over this mothman looming over you while you’d been sleeping.

Horror noticed your trepidation, visibly deflating; a feat for someone so large. 

You watched Horror get to his feet, leaving the cozy home subdued as he took flight.

-

Soaring through the early morning sky, Horror’s desperation rose.

He needed something important to show his mate; to help jog your memory.  He couldn’t stand the thought of being unable to be near to you but knew from his own past lapses in memory that pushing did no good.  But what could he possibly-

‘Amazing! This flower is rare, Horror! It blooms in very few places, deep inside caverns by pools of water.’ 

Horror switched directions with an eager beat of wings. Distracted as he was, Horror did not notice a figure following him, wings flapping occasionally to keep up.

-

With Horror’s departure, your mind laid out your situation.

You were currently in unknown territory, all alone with a large mothman who’d scooped you up into his four arms to bring you here to his home, convinced you were his mate. 

Before that, the highway your vehicle broke down on was rife with cryptid sightings, where car failures happened occasionally. Despite this knowledge, you’d decided to drive late at night, instead of staying in the motel you’d passed by.

…maybe your cryptid-obsessed friend could help you figure out how to convince Horror that you were not, in fact, his mate.

-

Horror correctly remembered the flower’s location in the cavern.  Plucking one reverently, he tucked it away.

“Haven’t seen you here in years.”

Horror pivoted, avoiding sharp claws and talons. Seizing a bony ankle, Horror leaned away, avoiding a strike from large, black feathered wings.

“Did you abduct someone again?”  

Reaper.

“This is the third time.” Reaper’s empty sockets blinked. “You shouldn’t keep what’s not yours; humans will show up, searching.”

“My mate.” Horror growled, fur bristling.

“It’s not, Horror.  I’m sorry.” Reaper twisted out of Horror’s grasp, browbone furrowed. “You know humans shouldn’t live here. It’s too dangerous for them.”

-

Horror didn’t return.

Either he figured out you weren’t his mate, or he went out to clear his skull to figure out how to prove it to you.

You startled at a loud message notification from your phone.  Checking the text, you saw it was the tow-truck company wondering where you were. Getting that sorted, you wonder what-

“Heya.”

Another low voice.

You turn.

The embodiment of death perched at the edge of the nest, large black feathered wings spread.

…wait.

It was a winged skeleton monster, dressed entirely in black, wearing a cowl.

“Wanna go home?”

-

Horror lurched through the underbrush, wings fluttering. He’d worn himself out tussling with Reaper in the cavern to be up to flying home. 

He had strong legs from being forced to climb during times he had to reserve his stamina. Soon, he’d be able to take to the sky, but Horror feared he may be too late.

Reaper was swifter.

By the time Horror reached the tree top home, it was too late. 

Reaper had taken you away. 

No.

Horror wouldn’t allow it. 

Not again. 

…the nest was empty.

This treetop home no longer felt like home, without his mate.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

10 characters, 10 fandoms

10 characters, 10 fandoms Rules: list your ten favorite characters from ten separate fandoms, then tag ten people Tagged by @scottxlogan

In no particular order, and I might even break the rules for 'separate fandoms'. Maybe. Quite probably.

1. Loki (Marvel and Myth)

2. Emma Frost (X-Men)

3. Tony Stark (Marvel, Avengers)

4. Rimble (Zohra Greenhalgh's books, Contrarywise and Trickster's Touch)

5. Alan Shore (Boston Legal; I just watched this again, so he's on my brain.)

6. Dr. Gregory House (House M.D.)

7. Eddie Munson (Stranger Things; he kind of goes hand in hand with Steve Harrington as a favorite, though.)

8. Mercy Thompson (Patricia Briggs' Mercy books)

9. Puck, aka Robin Goodfellow (Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream)

10. Mike Weston (The Following)

Tagging: @kleenexwoman, @mistressofmuses, @soliloquent-stark, @stormxpadme, @mcfiddlestan, @gaslightgallows, @chaoticgardenbread, @renlybaratheon-tyrell, @vanitasmorgue, @scottcyclopssummers and anyone else who wants to play.

[daily-kohane-vitamins]

hi vitahane!!

Hiii VitaShizu! How are you, I hope you're alright!

[arson-09]

The Vibes of my fanfic through songs

An ongoing mini series of lyrics from songs that relate to the fanfic im currently writing. The fic is still unpublished but i am working on it :)

From Eden by Hozier

Babe There's something wretched about this. Something so precious about this. Where to begin? Babe There's something broken about this. But I might be hoping about this. Oh, what a sin

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me, I should know

I slithered here from Eden just to hide outside your door

It seems to me that every relationship (platonic or romantic) that Tamlin finds himself in starts because he’s curious about them, drawn to them. Rhysand, Lucien, Feyre. Maybe it will end well this time

[sator-the-wanderer]