#you better believe this is going to become a

[local-demon-in-your-area]

Alright, this post has gotten super big and attracted tons of controversy and weird opinions so I thought I would clarify my position one last time :

No a militarized intervention, be it UN, US or whoever else, isn't a good idea. Bombs are never the answer, violence is never the answer, forcing an enormous change on people who's culture and ideas you don't understand is never the answer.

It seems the Malala Fund is seen as controversial for reasons that are unknown to me at the moment. In the meantime donating to Women for Afghan Women or to RAWA for those who can or want is still a good thing.

No Islam and religions aren't necessarily the problem. I am atheist myself, although raised in Christianity and while I absolutely believe that religion can be used and is used as a weapon in the world today, I do not believe that blaming them (instead of the people fostering an unsafe environment using them) is helpful.

Afghan Women don't necessarily want to live European/US women and that should not be the goal. The goal is for them to be safe, first and foremost, and have a choice as to what they want. The biggest thing that feminism can do is listen to Afghan Women. What do they need ? What can we provide ? They are the ones living in the situation, they know best than anybody.

Afghan Women being part of an Islamic culture doesn't mean that everything happening to them is normal or desired. The Taliban regime arrived by force and rules by force. Their society is not built on solid foundations, and without change it's certain that it won't last long. The problem is the damage they will do until it crumbles, and the damage that will be done while it's happening. The main victim of catastrophes are always the ones at the bottom of the social pyramid and in Afghanistan, it's Women. That's why we're fighting with them.

To clarify : I am against the very idea of a social pyramid. But because it exists, it has to be taken into account when deciding how to deal with things and how to provoke change.

I've had some wild comments about transidenty somehow so : to know if Afghan trans people are in danger, ask Afghan trans people. If you look at what witnesses and refugees are saying, all trans people are in danger. No they're not the danger. No transwomen are not just men trying to touch women by hiding as women. They face the same stigma as any other woman, and can be treated even worse when outed. How did you all decide they were the problem or that Afghan Women could just "become trans" to escape the oppressive regime like. How. Please. What the hell.

Stop being mean. I'm just a person who made a post on tumblr. This post may have gotten big but I still don't have the influence of other bloggers or people reblogging this post. I can't monitor everything. I can't even look at all the reblog because I don't have time. I can't answer everything. If you feel wronged because somebody said something in the reblogs, confront them, not me.

Once again I insist : I tried to educate myself but I can't guarantee I knew where to look and remembered it all correctly. Once again, I am just a random person on tumblr. If you think I should truly know something, you can go to my asks directly, otherwise there's a chance I won't see it. I don't know everything, be kind.

This post was made in the present tense but is in fact about the new law announced recently. Its details are unclear but it would essentially stop women from hearing each other pray (at least in public spaces) and other added things which many fear could lead to a total ban (if the details in the law don't immediately put it in action). As some have pointed out, women are currently still able to speak to each other in Afghanistan, but that may not last long.

I'm not american. Stop bringing the whole "Americans say this because they want to invade" argument, I'm not fucking American. I don't think of myself as a saviour. I don't think of myself as better. I just made a post about an info I saw that was bugging me, and needed to express just how wrong it felt somewhere. Don't assume I have or should have all the answers. I'm not even old enough to vote in my country. Keep that in mind when interacting.

This is one post out of hundreds people will see today. Yes it has an impact, but that doesn't mean it somehow makes me responsible for every single deranged idea somebody may have when seeing this. The average person will just like this post and move on with their lives, whether you think it's good or not. When interacting remember that I can't be expected to carry everything on one post's shoulder, nor that this post will somehow determine how people see Afghan Women for the next 30 years to come.

The amount of comments and people deciding that I was responsible for all of this because I made one fucking post about the subject is making me sick so. This is the last time I interact with my own post. I will stop responding or looking at reblogs and comments. I'll keep this post up because I do hope it reaches somebody who decides to donate or join local action to help but for the sake of my mental health (once again, just a random teenager online) I will not update it any longer.

And please remember that supporting local actions will always be more helpful than arguing with some strangers on the internet

This has been a psa or whatever

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't speak to each other Afghanistan

Women. Can't. Speak. To. Each. Other. In. Afghanistan.

No conversations

No hearing another woman's voice, no hearing her speak or pray

No way to share experiences no way to ask questions no way to organize

And if you ban education then they can't communicate by writing either

Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan

Women can't communicate with other women in Afghanistan

People can't communicate with other people

That's how low we've gotten

Please don't forget about them.

[inkedinshadows]

The Path To Healing

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: A glimpse into different moments of Azriel's life: from his childhood trauma to the physical healing, from his struggles and his acceptance to the beginning of his mental healing journey.

Warnings: angst, self-hate, self-consciousness, violence and blood, mentions of torture, language, fingering (brief)

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: I might or might not have cried while writing some parts of this. I focused only on Azriel's hands, and I'm sure I only scratched the surface of what his trauma is. I'm nowhere close to an expert on any of this, but I tried my best and hopefully did it justice. @azrielappreciationweek

Pain was all he knew.

His eyes hurt from crying, and he desperately wanted to rub them, but he couldn't. He couldn't, because his hands… His hands…

More tears poured down his already puffed cheeks, and his cries turned into a choked sound—sobs that tore through his chest and shook his little body, his wings a dead weight on his back.

“Shh,” his mother murmured, her voice soothing, her touch gentle as she cupped his face. “It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay, baby.”

Azriel didn't know how to believe her. It seemed to him like nothing could ever be okay again. He couldn't feel his hands anymore—they had been replaced by a blinding pain that reached up to his elbows. All he could see when he looked down was a red splotch, too red to be normal.

When his father had heard his screams, he’d called the healers. By then, it was too late, and the damage was already done. But his father had merely given his half-brothers a disappointed look and dumped Azriel in his mother's care, as if he had become even more of a burden than before. He didn't know what he had done to deserve it.

His mom began to hum a lullaby, but Azriel could barely hear it over his sobs and whimpers. She took one of his shaking hands in hers as gently as she could, touching his marred skin when strictly necessary, but even that drew a shriek from him.

“I know, baby,” his mother whispered as she began wrapping his hand in new strips of clean fabric. “I know it hurts. But I need to bandage it so it can get better, okay?”

Azriel tried to hold back his cries of pain as she worked. He tried to focus on her face and the lullaby instead, but he kept praying through it all—to the Cauldron, to the Mother, to whoever was listening—that it would be over soon. Just like he had begged and prayed while his half-brothers had burned him, but no one had come then.

Now, though, his silent prayers were answered.

“There you go, my love,” his mom said softly, placing a kiss on his forehead. “All done. See? Does it hurt a bit less now?”

He looked down to find his hands covered in white linen. The tight bandages applied just enough pressure to reduce the pain, even if only by just a fraction. He met his mother's concerned gaze and nodded weakly, watching as the corner of her lips twitched upward. It didn't help much, though, and tears still streamed down his face.

“Come here,” she whispered, gathering his shaking body in her arms and holding him close to her chest. “My precious boy. You'll get through this, Az. I promise.”

Azriel buried his face in her neck and cried until he was too exhausted to do even that. But his mom never stopped singing him an old Illyrian lullaby, rocking him back and forth as if he were a newborn baby.

She kept going long after he fell asleep.

~~~~~~

Azriel was staring at his hands, at the ridges of his new scars. He knew he should be practicing, but he could only stare.

“What is it, sweetie?”

His mother came up beside him. His father had allowed her to see him a bit more over the last few months, not wanting to spend money on healers more than once every other week when they came to check on him and his progress.

Azriel turned his hands over, now looking at the backs of them. He still wasn’t used to seeing them like this. How much time had he spent looking at them? During those long hours in his cell with no light, he had thought about them endlessly.

Sometimes, he could swear the darkness whispered in his ear, soothing his mind until he finally fell asleep.

“They're ugly,” he said. His voice was flat, as if he was simply stating a fact. Because that's what they were to him—ugly, ruined, useless. Always shaking and itching.

His mother's soft hands enveloped his smaller ones in a gentle hold. “Look at me.”

He obeyed, meeting her tender, reassuring gaze. Even at his young age, he knew she loved him. His stepmother never looked at him like that, on the rare occasions she even bothered to acknowledge his existence.

“Your hands are not ugly, my child,” his mom assured him. Her tone was calm, but there was a new resolution etched onto her features. “They've just been through a lot.”

Azriel shook his head. “They're ugly,” he insisted. “No one else has hands that look like this. They're full of scars and cuts and…”

His voice trailed off as his mom extended her wings behind her. A twinge of pain crossed her face, and she could only unfold them a few inches, but it was enough for Azriel to see the twin long scars running down their length. He didn't know how she got them, but she once told him she couldn't fly because of them. He’d felt an odd sense of relief at that, knowing his mom couldn't fly either—that her blood, like his, urged her to take off and roam the skies, yet neither of them could.

“Do you think my wings are ugly, Az?” she asked. She still spoke with that soft tone, but it was now tinged with firmness.

Azriel immediately shook his head. “No,” he answered. “No, they're not ugly.”

“But they have scars. They're ruined and useless.” How had she known those were the words he used for his own hands? Had he said them out loud? “What are wings for, if not for flying? Yet I can't fly anymore.”

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. “Mom, no,” he said, decisive and unyielding. “Your wings are beautiful. You're beautiful.”

Her face softened, a smile blooming on her lips as she gently squeezed his hands. “Then your hands are beautiful too.” She lifted them to her lips, kissing each one. “Think of them not as reminders of pain, but of strength. You've suffered a lot, but you're stronger. You're healing. And one day, it won't even hurt anymore.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment. “Is it really like that?”

“Of course, baby,” she reassured him, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair.

He knew she was lying. He saw the pain on her face when she moved her wings. They still hurt sometimes. But he believed her anyway, because he needed to.

His mother let go of his hands and picked up the pen he had discarded just a few minutes ago. “Do you think you can practice a little longer?”

Azriel didn't want to. His fingers had gone stiff earlier, the constant itching even stronger now. But he didn't want his hands to be useless, so he took the pen from her.

Almost two sheets of paper were covered with just one word, repeated over and over. His own name. Easy enough to write, yet the letters were crooked and shaky, the ink smeared where his hand had accidentally trailed over it.

With a sigh, Azriel set the pen on the paper and tried his best to keep his hand steady as he resumed the exercise.

~~~~~~

Azriel really wanted to get laid.

There was no other way to say it. Every time he heard Cassian and Rhysand talk about a new girl they had slept with, he felt a pang of jealousy. He wanted to experience it too—to know what it felt like to have that kind of connection with someone and not have to resort to his own hand whenever he couldn't ignore his need.

But he had always been too shy to approach the pretty girls his brothers chatted up so easily. His hands did nothing to help his confidence.

Tonight, though, was bonfire night. Organized twice a year, it was held on the Spring and Autumn Equinox to celebrate the new season. And this year, Azriel had every intention of going home with a girl.

His brothers were laughing and pushing each other as they walked through the muddy streets of Windhaven. He wasn’t paying much attention to what they were saying—something about their earlier fight during training. No, Azriel’s mind was already focused on his plan.

He would keep a safe distance from the fire, where no incidents could happen. But he would scan the crowd of Illyrians for a female who caught his interest, and when he found her, he would approach her, talk a little, and then ask if she wanted to go somewhere more private.

Simple enough.

He was a warrior in training, after all. He had seven Siphons. He was a Shadowsinger.

He had nothing to fear from interacting with girls.

Yet, he couldn't recall the last time he’d started a conversation with a female. In the ten years he'd been at Windhaven, it had probably happened only with Rhys's mother. But she didn't count.

Someone bumped into Azriel, and, lost in his thoughts as he was, he almost fell to the ground. He managed to flare his wings to steady himself, glaring at Cassian as he regained his balance.

“Sorry about that,” Cassian said, though his snicker didn't make him sound particularly sincere. “I've been talking to you for two minutes, but you didn't hear a single word. What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Azriel mumbled, folding his wings behind him again. “Maybe you're just not worth listening to.”

Cassian gasped audibly, clutching his chest in mock heartache as a group of children sprinted by, headed for the square where the first booms of laughter and echoes of chattering rang out.

“Don't worry, Az,” Rhys chimed in before their brother could come up with a retort. “You'll get your first taste of sex tonight.”

Azriel shrugged off the hand Rhysand had placed on his shoulder. “Don't look in my mind,” he nearly growled, checking his mental shields just to be sure.

Both his brothers halted their steps and stared at him, twin shit-eating grins on their faces.

“I didn't,” Rhys said. “But thank you for confirming my suspicions.”

Cassian nudged him with an elbow, already teasing him about girls and first times and wingspans. With a snort, Azriel shoved him away and continued toward the bonfire, leaving the other two behind to push each other around, their chuckles chasing him down the street.

How they had guessed what he was up to, he didn't know. He’d been careful not to tell them, knowing their reaction would consist of snickers and jabs that he was in no mood for.

As he turned the corner, the square came into view. Just like every year, the bonfire stood in its center, rising several feet high and adorned with little homemade trinkets meant to bring good luck and a prosperous season when burned.

They would light it soon.

The square was already packed with people when Azriel reached it. Children ran around chasing each other, their laughs and screams echoing into the night. Warriors gathered in small groups, swords on their back and knives at their thighs or hips, not letting their guard down even during a festivity.

And then there were the females. Most sat together in a corner, chatting idly and glancing at the children from time to time. But some of them—the younger ones, the ones around Azriel's age—strolled in groups of two or three.

How was he supposed to approach them if they were always together? It was difficult enough when they were alone.

Azriel spotted Cassian and Rhys from the corner of his eye and moved deeper into the crowd, choosing to stand on the opposite side of the square from them. The last thing he needed was for his brothers to make fun of him.

Someone shouted a warning, and a moment later, the pyre was lit. Azriel flinched as flames erupted, pressing himself closer to the wall behind him. Even from this distance, he could feel the heat of the fire, warming his skin and casting a flickering glow all around.

He shut it out. He shut out the memory of what fire could do to flesh, the smell of burned skin, the screams and cries of a terrified eight-year-old boy. The shadows suddenly swirled around him, brushing against his arms and neck.

Past. Gone. Gone. Just memories.

Azriel closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, letting the truth they whispered calm his racing heart.

He sensed the girl before even the darkness could murmur of her approach.

He let his shoulders slump a little and slid his hands into his pockets, assuming a more casual stance. When he opened his eyes, she was watching him from a few feet away. Her head snapped around to stare at the bonfire as soon as she realized she'd been caught staring.

Azriel couldn't suppress his smirk. He had grown accustomed to females looking his way from the moment he’d hit puberty, but it still made him feel smug every time. Never mind that they didn't approach him—or that he never approached them.

But now, though. Now he would.

Taking one last deep breath, he took a nervous step toward her. And then another. She glanced in his direction, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, but one more step and Azriel was standing in front of her.

A few inches shorter than him, she didn't back away, her big brown eyes meeting his hazel ones. Her delicate face was framed by strands of wavy black hair that flowed past her shoulders, and he stopped himself before his eyes could travel downward to the curves shaping her slim body. She was pretty. Beautiful, even.

“Hi,” he said, attempting a smile. He wasn't sure it looked right.

The girl offered a small smile back. “I'm, uh… I didn't mean to stare. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It's alright.”

For a brief, awkward moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. Then Azriel realized she was waiting for him to say something more. Right.

“What's your name?” he finally asked, silently thanking the little shadow that had curled around his ear to whisper the suggestion.

“I'm Teagan.” The girl's smile widened. “And you're Azriel.”

Caught off guard, he blinked. “You know me?”

Teagan chuckled, a clear and crystalline sound that eased some of the tension in Azriel's body.

Some of it.

“I've seen you around,” she answered with a shrug. Firelight danced on her features. “There aren't many Shadowsingers here, you know. None, in fact. You're one of a kind.”

Her initial shyness seemed completely gone now. Good. That made one of them, at least. Because if her words were meant as flattery, they didn't work. Instead, they only made Azriel more nervous.

What if she had expectations? What if she started asking questions about his powers? What if she would be disappointed now that she was talking to him? What if she—

Azriel cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind at the same time. “Thank you,” he said.

Too stiff. Too short. Not an acceptable answer. But he didn't know what else to say. How was he supposed to talk to a girl when he’d barely had any social interaction for the first eleven years of his life?

But Teagan must have found his awkwardness endearing, because she smiled, amusement shining in her eyes. “Aren't you going to offer me some food?”

A blush crept up his cheeks as he glanced over to the few tables laid with food in one corner of the square. People were already gathering around them and filling their dishes. Cassian was there too, shamelessly flirting with a girl whose hands were already wandering over his chest.

Azriel turned back to Teagan and nodded, a shy smile forming on his face. “I am, actually.” He cleared his throat—as if it could help him sound more confident—then gestured to the tables with his head. His hands remained buried in the pockets of his coat. “Would you like to get some food?”

It came out too formal, and his posture was too rigid. And simply nodding toward the tables? Rude. How could Rhys do this so smoothly? How could Cassian be so bold and smug?

Teagan chuckled again, though. She looped her arm through Azriel's and steered him toward the food. “You've never done this before, have you?”

He almost choked. It was worse than he'd feared, then.

“No, not really… I…” His voice trailed off, and he had no idea how to recover.

She leaned in closer as they walked, and Azriel became acutely aware of just how close she was. Her body pressed against his side, and he could feel her breath on his neck now. He wanted to take her hand, or maybe even slide his arm around her waist. If only he had worn gloves, maybe he would have dared. Though he'd need to find the courage first.

“Am I the first girl you try to flirt with?” she asked, her tone teasing.

Try. Not just flirt, but try to flirt. He was failing so miserably. Maybe he should just give up and leave.

Azriel could only nod, his face a deeper shade of red than Cassian’s siphons.

“I think it's cute,” Teagan said, her big smile lighting up her pretty face. “I'm glad you chose me to be your first.”

If only she knew what kind of first Azriel hoped she would be… but judging by how things were going, he suspected they wouldn’t get that far.

“I… don't really know what I'm doing,” he admitted, unsure why he was even saying that. It probably wasn't a smart move to reveal it, but it was too late to take it back.

As they weaved through the crowd, Teagan stepped even closer to him, and in doing so, her wing brushed against Azriel’s. They both gasped, and though she smiled sheepishly, he didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “I just wanted to be closer to you. I really think you're cute. And I appreciate your honesty.”

Azriel smiled warmly, his heart thumping in his chest. He could still salvage this, maybe, so that his first interaction with a girl wouldn’t be a total failure.

As they stopped in front of the tables, he stepped back slightly to face her. “I think you’re cute too,” he said, meeting her gaze. He did his best not to sound shy or awkward. “You're very pretty.”

Her face lit up. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He was about to offer her some food when a group of kids suddenly weaved through the crowd and ran by. Azriel heard them coming and tucked his wings tightly, but Teagan either noticed them too late or couldn't fold her clipped wings any further.

The children bumped into her as they sprinted past, and she sucked in a sharp breath when one of them brushed her wing. Azriel was quick to grab her elbow to steady her, and something fluttered in his chest when she smiled in thanks. But then her gaze moved to his hand, still on her arm, and her eyes widened—in horror or shock, he couldn't tell.

He pulled his hand back as fast as he could, tucking it back into his pocket.

Too late.

Teagan swallowed, and the silence that stretched between them hit Azriel as painfully as a punch to the jaw.

“So,” he said eventually, feeling beyond awkward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “What kind of food would—”

“I'm sorry,” she interrupted, already taking a small step back. Her eyes darted to the pocket where he’d hidden his hand before looking at him again. No warmth shone in them now. “But I forgot I had to… do something very important with my friend. Maybe another time.”

Azriel stood there, watching her turn and walk away without another glance. The rejection left him reeling. His mother could say whatever she wanted about his scars not being ugly or horrifying, but he now knew better than to believe her.

His hands balled into fists, and he took a deep breath, flexing his fingers. Without bothering to inform his brothers—who were probably on their way to sleep with yet another girl, since their hands were perfectly normal and unscarred—Azriel left the square. He put a few buildings between himself and the ongoing festivities before taking off to the skies.

He didn't return until long after the sun had set over the horizon.

~~~~~~

Azriel wished he could say he felt at least a bit bad for his half-brothers as Rhys and Cass threw punch after punch at their jaw and stomach. But all he felt while watching the scene unfold was a deep sense of satisfaction, which only grew with every new groan.

When Rhys had told him he needed to talk to his father for court matters, Azriel had refused to go. He had no interest in seeing his father or the rest of his family again, and Rhys had understood, asking Cassian to accompany him instead.

But Azriel had followed them. There was no reason for Cass to be there too, not when he was no good at playing courtier. He doubted Rhysand's father had told him to bring Cassian along.

Hidden in the shadows in the corner of the room, Azriel watched in silence as his brothers—his real ones, the only ones who mattered, as far as he was concerned—landed blow after blow. He knew now this was the real reason they'd come here.

Cassian had been itching for a fight from the moment they arrived and he didn't do a good job at hiding it. Azriel wasn't sure Cassian even tried to hide it. Rhys looked more composed, the perfect picture of the future High Lord dealing with minor problems of his Court. But as soon as Azriel's father had left, both of them had turned to his half-brothers with pure rage in their eyes.

One of them had been either bold or stupid enough to smirk. “How's our bastard brother doing?”

Rhysand and Cassian had both snapped. Despite being a few years older, his half-brothers didn't stand a chance. A warm feeling of affection was the only thing filling his chest as Azriel watched the two Illyrians who had taken him in, taught him how to fly, and showed him what a real family looked like, beat the shit out of whom was supposed to be his actual family.

He didn't make a sound, using his shadows to conceal even his scent. They were all too busy to pick up on it, even more so now that the metallic scent of blood filled the air, but he preferred to be careful.

Azriel didn't know exactly how much time had passed when Rhys and Cass finally relented, their chests heaving and their knuckles smeared with red. They straightened their backs, Cassian’s wings still spread in a fighting stance. Rhys, on the other hand, looked more relaxed, but his cold expression betrayed him.

“Don't you dare speak of him like that again,” Cassian snarled. His voice was just slightly breathless despite the beating he'd just given. “Especially after what you did to him.”

Azriel fought the urge to look down at his scarred hands. Being back in his father's keep was enough to stir memories he had long tried to forget. Instead, he focused on his brothers, on how much they must love him to risk hurting and threatening the sons of an Illyrian lord because of what they'd done to him.

Rhys exchanged a knowing glance with Cassian, and they turned to leave, abandoning his half-brothers on the floor. But they stood with a groan, battered and bloodied, still as arrogant as before. If not more so, now that they needed to make up for their bruised ego after being beaten so easily by a half-Illyrian and a low-born bastard.

One of them, the oldest, flared his wings as if trying to appear more intimidating. “He deserved it,” he spat.

Azriel had to stop himself from lunging forward and burying his own fist in his half-brother's stomach. He wanted to make him understand, to wave his hands in front of his face and yell at him. See this? This is what you did to me. I was eight! How could I have deserved it?

But he remained still, standing in the corner with his hands balled into fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms.

Rhysand held back Cassian as he tried to pounce on Azriel’s half-brothers. Cassian looked outraged, as if he couldn't understand why he suddenly wasn't allowed to fight. But Azriel could see the expression on Rhys's face and knew his brother had something different in mind.

“You think Azriel deserved it?” he asked, his voice unnervingly calm. He looked a lot like his father now—aware that he didn't need to raise his voice or his fists for people to obey.

“Well, fortunately for you, I can't show you exactly what I think you two deserve,” Rhys continued, slowly slipping his hands into his pockets. “But I can at least give you a taste of it.”

Before anyone could move, a crack pierced the air, immediately followed by a sharp cry of pain as his half-brothers both collapsed to the ground once more. Their legs lay beneath them at strange angles, the bone of one protruding where it had pierced the skin. The scent of blood grew stronger as the white tiles turned red.

His mother would have disapproved, Azriel knew that. She believed vengeance should not be sought out, and that living well in spite of what had happened was more than enough. Perhaps she was right, and Azriel was as bad and cruel as his half-brothers, after all. But as he stood there, watching them bleed and whine and scream for a healer who didn't come, all he felt was a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing that they now felt a fraction of the helplessness he had felt when they burned him.

Cassian crossed his arms, a feral grin spreading across his face. “Stop crying, boys,” he taunted. “It's not like you won't heal.”

The corner of Rhys's lips curled into a smirk. “I put a shield around the room. No one can hear you or smell the blood. I think I'll leave it in place and let you crawl out to ask for help.”

With a glance to Cassian, Rhys gestured toward the door in a silent command, and they walked out without sparing the two Illyrians another glance.

But Azriel stayed a few more moments. Just long enough to see his half-brothers try to rise, fail miserably, and fall back on the floor. When they began to crawl, using their hands to drag themselves across the floor, smearing their blood over the tiles and their clothes, Azriel smiled.

He didn't care if they were spouting insults at him and his brothers. He didn't care what kind of person that made him. The sight of his half-brothers crawling and bleeding delighted him.

With one last look at them, Azriel winnowed away, his heart full of love for the two brothers the Cauldron had blessed him with.

~~~~~~

It felt like centuries had passed since Azriel had last been this nervous around a girl. It had likely been over a hundred years, if not more, since he couldn't recall the last time he went on a date. Even longer since he’d had a genuine crush. Normally, he just approached girls, or they approached him, and things quickly escalated into a night of sex. But it was nothing more than that—just fucking.

With you, it was different.

He met you a couple of weeks ago when he walked into your little bookstore to buy a present for Nesta's birthday. You were so nice and radiant that he couldn't stop thinking about you, and he lost count of how many times he came, buying books he didn't need and asking for recommendations only to listen to you talk. And then he had finally asked you out, and your smile had lit up the whole shop as you said yes.

He was standing on the other side of the street, watching as you closed up the store for the day. Your dress flew around your legs in the evening breeze, and your hair was styled in a simple bun on your head.

Azriel smiled as you crossed the street. As usual, he had to hold back his shadows as they swirled excitedly around him. “You look lovely,” he said when you stopped in front of him.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, lowering your gaze for a second before looking at him with a smile. “You're not too bad either.”

He chuckled softly. “Thank you.” Offering his arm, he gestured to the street. “Shall we?”

You looped your arm through his, and together you strolled along the Sidra, your steps unhurried.

Conversation flowed easily, and Azriel relaxed more as you talked about everything from your job to his preference for flying over winnowing. His shadows, which had lingered around his wings, vanished completely. But then you got to the little restaurant where he had reserved a table, and he grew nervous once more.

Even with your arms linked, your focus never drifted to his hands during the walk. Your eyes were either on him or your surroundings, making it easy to forget his marred skin.

Until you sat across from him and the food arrived. There was no way now you wouldn't notice his scars, which normally wasn't a problem—he'd stopped caring about strangers' opinions years ago. But you weren't a stranger, and you weren't just another girl he wanted to fuck.

You were sweet and beautiful, and he was drawn to you in a way he hadn't experienced in decades. He didn't want you to run away from him.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken you out to dinner on the first date, because now it was probably going to be the last one too.

Yet you didn't stare at his hands. You acted as if everything was normal, never commenting or asking what had happened to him. You carried on the conversation just like before, and when Azriel, hiding his distress behind a carefully crafted mask, asked you about a theater play you'd just mentioned, you launched into a passionate description of its plot and themes. His uneasiness slowly faded as he watched your eyes light up. You leaned closer over the table, so engaged in your story that Azriel found himself smiling and nodding along, only half listening, his worries about his hands momentarily forgotten.

Your voice suddenly trailed off mid-sentence, and you leaned back in your chair, tilting your head to the side. “What?” you asked with a soft smile. Before he could answer, you tensed and added, “I've done it again, haven't I? Rambling on about something you don't care about.”

Azriel shook his head, his hand itching to reach across the table and brush yours, though he held back. “Y/N,” he said, his voice quiet and reassuring. “I do care. I asked you that question. You just had that look on your face.”

Your brow furrowed. “What look?”

“The one you have when you talk about something you like,” he answered, watching your expression grow confused for a second. “You have it when you talk about books too.”

You were quiet for a moment, and then your eyes narrowed slightly. “Azriel,” you said slowly, but your lips twitched up in a smirk. “Did you ask for all those recommendations just to hear me talk?”

“Maybe,” he conceded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. His heart fluttered as your eyes met, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

He’d forgotten having a crush could feel like this—like being a boy again. Only now he knew what to do.

He’d never been much of a talker, preferring to listen and chime in occasionally, but with you, it was easy. You had your own way of involving him, asking questions or simply waiting for him to share his thoughts. Even though you barely paused, Azriel never felt like you were hogging the attention. On the contrary, you made him more at ease.

After you left the restaurant, you went strolling through the streets of Velaris. Azriel was just about to answer your question about how fast, exactly, an Illyrian could fly when you let out a delighted squeal, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward a small bakery.

“Oh, I was waiting for this place to open!” You stopped in front of the window with a dreamy sigh before turning to look up at him. “I forgot it was today. Can we go in? Please, tell me you like pastries!”

Your enthusiasm was endearing, but Azriel couldn’t help glancing down at your hand still holding his larger, scarred one. You didn't seem to notice—or if you did, you didn’t care.

Your grip loosened slightly as you noticed the shift in his attention, but you didn't let go. “Sorry,” you said quietly, your eyes searching his face. “I got a bit carried away. Is this alright?”

He wasn't sure what to say. The lump in his throat made it hard to speak. That you had grabbed his hand without thinking was enough to leave him speechless, but what you were asking now… it wasn’t just that you weren't bothered by his scars. It was that you wanted to keep holding his hand. Azriel couldn't wrap his mind around it.

You probably misunderstood his silence because you started to pull back. He immediately held your hand tighter, gently squeezing it, as if to silently reassure you. “No, it’s okay,” he said quickly, his voice softer than usual. “I’m just…” Not used to it. “You caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

“I caught the spymaster off guard?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be worried? Do we need to inform the High Lord?” 

Azriel shook his head with a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on you before he gestured toward the bakery. “Would you still like those pastries?”

Your eyes lit up, and Azriel made a mental note of how much you liked sweets. “Oh, yes, please!”

“Then let’s get you some, shall we?”

You walked past him as he held the door open for you, a grateful smile lighting up your face. Your hand remained entwined with his, and for once, Azriel didn’t feel the need to hide it.

You did not let go until he walked you home and you closed the front door behind you, and Azriel had never felt such lightness as he flew back to the House of Wind.

~~~~~~

Azriel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands with a grimace on his face.

Someone had tried to infiltrate Velaris, likely sent from the Hewn City, and Azriel had been called to find out why. He could still recall the blood and the pleading whimpers. But in the end, he got the information he wanted. He always did.

At a cost.

He had long since learned to keep a cold expression, even in the face of the suffering he caused. He was used to it after centuries, and as long as it kept his city and family safe, he didn't care how cruel he had to become. Maybe it made him a horrible person, but his soul wasn't the cost.

The cost was his hands.

Even after all this time, being in the cells beneath the Hewn City was like being back in the cell in his father's mansion. He had to shut down every part of him that felt, bury those memories deep down in his mind, and remind himself that he wasn't a helpless child anymore.

He was a five-hundred-year-old warrior, and he had a job to do.

But once the job was done, and Rhys decided how to deal with the prisoner and the consequences, Azriel would go back to his room knowing he didn't have much time.

He would wash his bloodied hands, though he knew no matter how much he washed, he could never cleanse them completely. He had five centuries worth of blood on them. After they were clean, if he was lucky, like today, he had time to peel off his leathers before the inevitable happened.

The pain.

No matter how many times he’d been in those dungeons, no matter how many years had passed since he’d last been locked in his father’s cell, he still didn’t know how to stop the pain from returning.

It wasn’t as bad as it had been the first few times, and it was nothing compared to what he had felt while his hands were being burned and in the days after. But Azriel still gritted his teeth, a low hiss escaping from him.

He tried clenching them into fists, but the relief lasted only a few seconds before he had to relax them again. His fingers were stiff as he reached for the drawer, a fresh surge of stinging pain hitting him when he pulled it open. Shadows dove in before he could and quickly whisked up a small jar of white cream. They undid the lid, and Azriel felt grateful for the dark companions that had never once left his side now more than ever.

Willing his hands to cooperate, he scooped up some of the soothing balm a healer had made for him. It always took a little while for its effect to show, but pain was an old friend he had learned to live with.

The herbal scent filled the room as Azriel did his best to spread the balm over every inch of his hands, trying to ignore the stinging itch. Scratching would only make it worse, reddening his already scarred skin until it threatened to bleed again.

He shifted to lie on the bed, wings spread beneath him. He just had to endure the ache for a few more minutes before the balm took effect, and then he could try to sleep. He needed some rest after such a long day, if only to have a clear mind when he met you the next afternoon.

As his shadows hummed in his ear the Illyrian lullaby his mother used to sing him as a child, Azriel let his eyes drift close, flexing his aching fingers every few seconds, hoping for a faster relief.

~~~~~~

Things moved slowly with you.

Neither of you wanted to rush into anything and potentially ruin what you both knew could be the beginning of something great.

You went on several dates, and some ended with him spending the night at your apartment, snuggled up in your bed, which was too small for an Illyrian. Azriel didn’t care as long as he got to fall asleep with you in his arms.

But things had never gone this far.

When he came to your bookshop earlier, he had only planned to walk you home. You were tired from a long day dealing with customers, and he had to wake up early the next morning to leave for Illyria for a few days. Maybe it was the thought of not seeing you—even if only for a week—or the fact that you looked stunning in your simple dress, with strands of hair escaping from your messy bun. Whatever it was, Azriel wanted you. He needed you.

His lips parted from yours, both of you already breathing heavily. “I don't want to go home,” he murmured, his hands on your hips, twisting the thin fabric of your dress, wishing it weren't there.

“What do you want to do then?” you asked, amusement clear in your eyes. But there was desire there too, mirroring his own.

“I want to take off your dress,” he whispered, his fingers already moving to the straps on your shoulders. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Take it off.”

With deft fingers, he slid the straps down your arms, and the fabric slipped off your body, pooling around your feet. You stepped out of it, and Azriel swallowed at the sight of you clad only in your cream underwear.

“If I had known we'd be doing this, I would have worn something more enticing,” you said quietly. There was no shyness or embarrassment in your voice, as if you were simply stating a fact. You did have a point—your lingerie was simple, something you wore every day. It didn't matter to Azriel.

He shook his head, stepping closer to you. “You don't need to,” he murmured. His hands cupped your face, tilting your head up to kiss you tenderly. “You're always stunning, sweetheart, no matter what you wear.”

You hummed, a smile playing on your lips. “Now I want to know what you think when I'm not wearing anything.”

Azriel chuckled, even as desire coiled in his groin. A part of him wanted to toss you on the bed and fuck you senseless. But most of all, he wanted to take his time exploring your body, finding every spot that made you squirm and sigh. Only after he'd thoroughly tasted you would he bury himself inside you.

“Let's find out,” he replied with a smirk, already knowing that, no matter what, you'd always be perfect in his eyes.

He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, and as he tossed it on the chair, he felt himself harden. Your breasts were full and supple, your pink nipples so inviting that he wanted to wrap his lips around them. Yet as he lifted a hand to touch you, he hesitated.

The stark contrast between your soft, smooth skin and his scarred fingers made him pause. He had touched you before, but never so intimately. How could he do that? His hands had so much blood on them. With how they looked, it felt only fitting he would use them for horrible things—to hurt people. Not to touch the wonderful girl he was falling for. How could he be so selfish as to sully you like that? You deserved so much better than him. Someone who didn’t torture and kill for a living, who didn’t have a dark past still haunting him.

Someone good.

He took a step back, lowering his hand.

“Azriel,” you called gently. There was no sign of judgment or disappointment in your voice. You just wanted him to look at you.

Slowly, his eyes met yours. To his astonishment, a soft smile bloomed on your lips.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, taking his hands in yours. He fought the urge to pull away. “You can touch me. I want you to touch me.”

He wanted to. More than anything. He wished he could.

“I shouldn’t,” he whispered.

“Why?”

How could he explain? He never told you what had happened to him. He didn’t want you to pity him or, even worse, to drive you away. Selfishly, he wanted to keep you in his life.

When he didn’t answer, your fingers slid around his wrists. Neither of you spoke as you lifted his hands to your mouth and kissed each scarred palm. Azriel’s throat worked, his heart pounding in his chest. Without a word, you placed his hands on your breasts. You let go of his wrists, giving him the freedom to pull away if he wanted to. But your eyes never left his, and that soft smile never faltered.

Azriel swallowed hard. For a moment, he just stood there, not pulling away but not moving either. Your face was open and serene, as if his scars didn’t bother you, even now that they were touching such an intimate part of your body.

Seeing you like this, so calm and accepting, so soft and warm under his palms… his thumbs moved, brushing over your nipples. You shivered, and he couldn’t stop himself from doing it again, feeling the small buds harden under his touch.

As if sensing his impending question, you nodded slightly. “You can touch me, Az.”

Though he knew it was wrong and still didn’t understand how you could want his bloodied, scarred hands on you, he gave you what you wanted—what you both wanted.

He slid one hand behind your neck, pulling you closer and kissing you again. The other remained on your breast, kneading the soft flesh, savoring every small sigh that escaped your lips. You leaned into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss until Azriel’s control hung only by a thin thread.

When you pulled back, you didn’t give him time to lower his mouth to your neck. You grasped his hand, gently moving it away from your chest, and a wave of fear tightened in Azriel’s stomach. You had changed your mind. Of course you had. He should have seen it coming.

But instead of stepping away, you guided his hand down. Between your legs.

His breath caught as his fingers brushed against your panties, feeling the already damp fabric beneath his touch.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. “Are you sure?”

You were smiling again. “Yes. Please, Az.”

He didn’t know how to say no. He knew he should have, that he was unworthy of touching someone so pure and lovely. But you had already pushed the fabric aside, and he groaned as your slick arousal coated his fingertips. Before he even realized what he was doing, his fingers found your clit, drawing a soft moan from you.

The thin thread holding his control snapped at the sound, and Azriel let himself give in.

He pulled you closer, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers explored what they shouldn’t. At the first sign of hesitation or revulsion, he was ready to stop. But pleasure was the only emotion etched across your face, and he could see the desire for more burning in your eyes. Yet you were letting him set the pace, giving him time to accept your permission to touch you.

He slipped a finger between your folds, teasing your entrance before tentatively easing it inside, just a little.

Your hips bucked, and your voice came out as a needy whisper. “Please…”

Azriel hesitated for only a split second before pushing his finger all the way in. You were soft and warm, and you both groaned as your walls clenched around it. He couldn’t believe you were letting him do this, but he couldn’t stop now.

As he slowly pumped it in and out, your hips began to rock against his hand to match his movements. He watched in contemplation as your eyes fluttered close and your lips parted slightly, a breathy moan slipping out when he couldn’t resist the urge to add a second finger.

“Azriel…” you murmured. “Feels so good…”

The sound of his name on your lips sent a wave of heat through his body. His wings rustled quietly behind him, and his cock throbbed in his pants. He pulled his hand away, relishing your disappointed whimper.

You hadn’t run away from him. You didn’t let his scars intimidate you, or shape your opinion of him. You weren’t bothered by his marred fingers touching you; on the contrary, you craved them inside you. So why, despite the voice in his head whispering that he wasn’t worthy of it, should he deny you something you both wanted so badly? He wanted to taste you, to make you come on his fingers, and see how much pleasure they could bring you.

“I want to do this properly,” he murmured, gently guiding you to the bed. “Will you lie down for me, sweetheart?”

Your face lit up with a smile, and you slipped out of your panties. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you spread your legs, baring yourself to his hungry gaze.

As Azriel knelt between your parted thighs, he pushed every thought about his hands out of his mind, focusing only on the beautiful girl before him and the warmth settling in his heart.

~~~~~~

Azriel jolted awake, his chest heaving. He lifted his hands in front of him, the dim light of the moon casting shadows across them.

They were fine. Scarred as always, but fine.

He took a deep breath as he lay back down. It was just a nightmare—memories coming back to haunt him in his sleep every now and then. Even after centuries.

“Az?”

He cursed silently as you stirred beside him, turning to face him. He could see your struggle to open your eyes, your voice a sleepy mumble.

“Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah,” he whispered back, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It's alright.”

It always was with you. You never complained when his nightmares disrupted your sleep. He didn't have them as often since you'd moved in together, fortunately. Sleeping next to you helped, but it wasn't a cure.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you asked quietly. With your head resting on his chest, you could probably hear the rapid thumping of his heart. He willed it to slow.

“It's fine, sweetheart,” he sighed. He pressed a kiss to your hair, and his tone was softer when he spoke again. “Go back to sleep.”

You curled up against him, and he thought you might let it go. But instead, you continued to look up at him. “You know you can talk to me if you want.”

“I know,” he murmured. You’d always been there for him when he needed it. You had been since the moment you met a year ago, and he was grateful for it every single day. He couldn't wait for your mating ceremony in two weeks and prove once more how much you meant to him.

You shifted in his arms, and then your head was on the pillow next to his, your face only inches away from his. You reached for his hand and lifted it up to your lips, kissing his palm, his fingers, his knuckles.

Azriel watched in silence, a lump in his throat. His heart still raced, and he felt the sudden urge to cry. He didn't even need to tell you what he needed, what burdened him. You always knew. Even before the bond snapped, you'd understood him effortlessly.

“Your hands are fine,” you murmured against his marred skin. “And so are you. You're fine. They can't hurt you anymore.”

Azriel closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. He buried his face in your neck, freeing his hand from your gentle grasp so that he could hold you tighter and press his body against yours. He draped his wings over you, unwilling to let go.

Your fingers stroke through his black curls. “I'm here, my love.” Your voice was soothing and soft, and Azriel felt like the helpless child he'd been five hundred years ago—needing reassurance, care, love. Maybe he would always need those things.

“You're here with me. You're safe now.”

He couldn't stop them, then. Tears slipped past his eyelids, rolling down his cheeks and dampening the skin of your neck. But your gentle caresses and soothing words never faltered.

“It's alright,” you whispered. Your warmth seeped into him, and he felt so cared for that even the last of his walls began to crumble. A broken sob tore through him.

“You're safe, my love.” You cradled his head against your neck, lips brushing his hair. “You can let it all out.”

Azriel did. You'd helped him through difficult moments before, but he had always held back because he didn't want to feel weak. He didn't want you to think he was weak. But if he’d learned anything from you, it was that crying didn't make him weak. That letting his feelings pour out through tears was better than burying them deep down for centuries.

So, he let them rise to the surface. The pain, the anger, the grief for the childhood he’d never had, the bitterness and frustration.

He had never cried about it before, but as he did, he could see it, for the first time in his life—a small light, a way out of the endless cycle of self-pity and hate he'd fallen into.

Maybe his mother had been right all those years ago. He was still healing, even after five centuries. He didn't know how much longer it would take, but maybe he’d reach a point when the nightmares stopped, his hands didn't hurt, and he could accept his scars. And maybe, one day, he wouldn't need his mother or his mate to remind him that his hands weren't ugly.

Azriel had no idea for how long you let him cry and sob in your arms. He had so many pent-up emotions, so much he still couldn't express, words he couldn't voice. But it was a start. And as exhaustion dragged him back to sleep, the weight on his chest, on his heart and soul, felt a little lighter.

Yet you still held him close, stroking his black curls long after he fell asleep.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ʟ ɪ ʜ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Show Aegon II Targaryen x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @joekeerys. Hope you enjoy!

Aegon never wanted the throne, never wanted the responsibilities that came with it, but what he does want is you. From the moment you entered his life, everything changed. You’re the one thing that makes sense to him, the one thing that feels right. Aegon is a mess of conflicting desires, plagued by his trauma, but when it comes to you, his love is the only thing he’s sure of.

Aegon has never had anyone in his life who genuinely cared about him. His family is fractured, and he’s spent his whole life drowning in self-loathing. But when you show him the slightest bit of affection, it’s like a drug. He needs it, needs you. You’re his lifeline, the one person who can make him feel like he’s worth something.

He’s incredibly clingy. Every time he sees you, he’s either hanging off of you, resting his head on your shoulder, or playing with your hair. It’s as if he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment. His hands are always on you, in a way that’s both affectionate and a little too possessive.

“I can’t stand it when you’re away,” he’d murmur, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay with me. Always stay with me.”

Aegon’s insecurities run deep, and that means he’s always on edge when it comes to other people. He’s constantly worried that someone will take you away from him, that you’ll realize you deserve better and leave him behind. His jealousy is all-consuming, and he has no problem making sure anyone who even looks at you the wrong way knows you belong to him.

If someone tries to get close to you, Aegon’s mood shifts instantly. His playful, drunken demeanor turns cold, his eyes narrowing as he watches every move they make around you. He doesn’t trust anyone—not your friends, not your family, and especially not his own family. In his mind, they’re all threats, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you to himself.

“No one will ever love you like I do,” he’d say, his voice low and serious. “You know that, don’t you?”

He needs to know everything about you—where you are, who you’re with, what you’re thinking. He’ll start off subtly, asking about your day, wanting to know every little detail. But soon, it becomes more than that. He wants to control every aspect of your life, making sure that you’re always with him, always safe, always his.

He’s the type to show up unannounced, drunk and demanding your attention, whether you want to give it or not. If you try to push him away, he’ll sulk, using his own pain and insecurities to guilt you into staying by his side. It’s manipulative, but in his twisted mind, he thinks he’s doing it out of love.

“You’re mine,” he’d whisper, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his breath hot against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

Aegon knows he’s not the perfect prince (and later king). He’s flawed, broken, and he hates himself for it. But when it comes to you, he’ll use that brokenness to his advantage. Whenever you try to pull away, he’ll remind you of how much he needs you, how lost he’d be without you. He’s not afraid to play the victim, to make you feel like leaving him would be the cruelest thing in the world.

He’ll come to you late at night, drunk and miserable, talking about how everyone hates him, how he’s not good enough for you. His words are filled with self-pity, and he’ll cling to you, practically begging you to reassure him that you’ll stay.

“You’re the only one who cares about me,” he’d say, his voice cracking with desperation. “Don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

For all his selfishness, Aegon genuinely believes he’s protecting you. The world is dangerous, full of people who would hurt you or take you from him. In his mind, he’s the only one who can keep you safe. He’ll go to any lengths to ensure that no one can harm you—not even your family or friends if he thinks they’re a threat.

He’ll isolate you if he has to, keeping you away from anyone who might try to come between you. He’ll even use his power as king to keep you locked away, safe in the Red Keep where no one can touch you. To him, it’s an act of love—protecting you from the dangers of the world.

“I’m doing this for you,” he’d say, his eyes wild with a mix of desperation and affection. “No one will hurt you if you’re with me. I’ll burn anyone who tries.”

Aegon’s love for you is twisted, born out of his own pain and insecurities, but it’s real. In his mind, you’re the only thing keeping him together. He’s broken, damaged by years of neglect and abuse, and you’re the only one who makes him feel whole. He’ll do anything to keep you by his side, even if it means crossing lines no one else would dare to cross.

He’s the kind of lover who would rather see you dead than let you leave him. If he can’t have you, then no one can. His love is suffocating, dangerous, and all-consuming. But in the end, he truly believes that he’s doing it all because he loves you.

“You don’t understand,” he’d say, tears in his eyes as he holds you close. “You’re all I have. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[marahkatoa2000]

Save our life,please!! 🙏🏻🍉🥺

Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR

Hello, I am Marah from Gaza, I am 23 years old, studying at Al-Azhar University.

I am writing these words after deep thought, as the urgent need to save me and my family is beyond my ability to bear.

I would like to add that I am studying law, and I aspired to become a valuable lawyer in my country.

I wished my days would be better and that I would not live in war deprived of my most basic rights.

But the war came and destroyed all our dreams and ambitions.

We had a supermarket and my brother worked in it and our life was very happy, but it was completely destroyed and now we have no source of income.

Also, my mother suffers from an enlarged thyroid gland and diabetes. Because of what we are going through, we cannot provide any treatment; her condition is getting worse.

Also, my father had a stroke because he heard about the loss of our relatives and he also lost our home. He worked all his life to build his life home. We suffer from diseases and lack of clean water.

We are living death.

Please help me protect and help my brother, my family and my cat to bring life and hope back to them. Every donation, even if it's just $5, can make a difference. It means so much to us and our child. Please reshape their lives with love and safety, and help build new hope in them.

The difference in helping me save my family.

I feel so sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know this is a difficult request, but I also know that there is still humanity and conscience and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this very difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to ask me!

My sincere regards and thank you.

‏https://gofund.me/0d8da7f1

@northgazaupdates @queerstudiesnatura

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@sar-soor @appsa @oopollo-blog @fireyfobbitmedicine @el-shab-hussein

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@emathyst9@three-croissants @iznabl @nabulsi @sar-soor @appsa @akajustmerry

[wifes-xxx]

There have been moments, especially when we open our hearts to a husband , where you have felt a distance between you. I know It's as if the door to your heart opens just halfway, holding back parts of you out of fear, caution, or maybe something you now can't quite understand. It struck you deeply like a slap, and you couldn't help but fee this realisation, it sounds like you are being self centred "I can't believe you would be someone so selfish. That you cant give yourself over completely to your relationship. What a dried up and broken woman you have become"

The beauty of exploring love languages and embracing our vulnerabilities lies in their reflection of real-life relationships. These concepts encourage us to examine our own connections, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complexities of love. It's an invitation to reflect on how we communicate affection and how we can better align with our loved ones, paving the way for more fulfilling relationships

Have you noticed sometimes when you do want it from a your guy , it almost feels like you’re invisible to him?

Are you nodding along?

Has this happened to you?

You already know you’re smitten. With your husband, only…you’re not bold and slutty, so you don’t feel comfortable just walking over and dropping to your knees and unzipping his pants and pulling it out, or telling him that you’re horny and need fucking… now!

So what can you do because you know it’s insulting to him for you to be a boring prude?

It’s fairly easy to get attention, but that doesn’t in any way guarantee that he will want to fuck you. Just something to be aware of. Once you have his attention, you’ll want to really notice what his reaction to you is. Does he smile while listening to every word, or is he busier checking his phone than talking to you? The sharper your observation skills, the less time you waste on knowing how to please him.

Grow up…you’re acting like you’re in middle school. You’re not. There are better, high-value ways to get his attention. Be his wife, his woman and his lover. Show him what you have and let him enjoy you.

Never be boring or distant.

Instead make yourself interesting and be interested in him and his desires. Learn what makes him hard.

Think of each moment like the dating game, you may be insecure about flirting or expressing your interest. It will take practice, but you’ve got this! Show some sexual aggression and really let him know what you have in mind. Use your brain. Or play open docile and ditzy. If it makes him hard and your feeling horny and wet, know in your heart its working for you. Remember that.

Be his good girl a figure out what turns him on and makes him hard, and interested. Usually, within a few minutes of conversation and , you can deduce this. Obviously, look for a bulge, but also keep an eye out for signs of breast gaze and lip gazing what part of your body is he focused upon! Display yourself with abandon like the women these men look at on Tumblr. They are interested atvtmhem for a reason. Forgot you self and think about why men masturbate to these kind of women pictures.

Let it change you prudish self.

Keep the conversation going once you have his attention, and make it clear that you’re not just being normal friendly (you’re being flirty friendly!). Use your language in and out of the bedroom to keep him engaged.

“You make me so wet”

“Never Stop”

“That feels amazing”

“Does that feel good?”

“I can feel your dick throbbing”

“I want you here right now”

“I want You so bad”

“I was thinking about you today”

“ oh fuck me, Just Like That”

“You make me want to scream”

“Fill me up”

” I'm curious honey what porn makes you. Hard“

“Fuck me like you mean it”

“Harder”

“I feel tiny in your arms”

“I love you”

“I love your dick”

“I want your cum”

“Kiss Me”

“Make me cum baby”

“Seeing you right after a workout”

“Taste Me”

“Your cock is stretching me out”

“I'm not wearing my panties today“

Feel free to share you favourites with me.

Oh God, this felt amazingly good to write. I am sooo ready for him.

S_XXX

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎Pick a picture:💕⭐️Channeled messages from your future self⭐️💕

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

⭐️If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!⭐️

💕Masterlist💕

💙Pile 1:

"You are closer than you think to the life you truly desire, just trust the process."

"The change you fear so much is the door that will lead you to what truly belongs to you."

"Do not underestimate the power of patience; what is to come will be much greater than you imagine."

"Your intuition already knows the answer, it is time to listen to it and act with confidence."

"Remember: everything you have overcome has prepared you for what is to come. There is no turning back."

"Sometimes, moving away from the known is necessary to make room for the new and extraordinary."

"The love you give yourself is the first step to attracting what you deserve in all areas of your life."

"It is time to let go of what no longer serves you; the universe has something better in store for you."

"Your personal power is unbreakable. Do not let anyone or anything make you doubt your ability."

"Opportunities are in front of you, you just need to take the first step with faith and courage."

Hi Pile 1! Your future self is so wise and clever, they are in a powerful position for sure. It's time to take the first step you need, you are capable and are ready for what's next!

💖Pile 2:

"The calm before the storm is the sign that something big is coming, get ready to receive it."

"Your efforts have not been in vain. The universe is preparing the ground for your success."

"You don't have to have all the answers now. Sometimes, the most important thing is to trust the path."

"You are breaking free from what was holding you back. Peace and clarity are closer than you think."

"Your energy is aligned with change. Don't resist the inevitable, embrace the transformation."

"The time to heal has come. Emotional release is your first step towards fulfillment."

"The stars have aligned your destiny for a greater purpose, trust that everything happens for a reason."

"It's time to manifest what you want. The universe is listening to your deepest thoughts."

"You are in the process of rebuilding yourself, give it time."

"What seems uncertain now, will become clearer in time. Allow yourself to trust the journey."

Hi pile 2! You are in a transformation process and your future self wants you to know that everything will be fine, just give yourself the time you need and don't push to hard; be gentle with yourself, a big hug for you pile 2.

💕Pile 3:

"Your capacity to achieve great things is far beyond what you imagine. Trust your potential."

"The opportunities you seek are on your way."

"You are ready to receive everything the universe has prepared for you."

"Every challenge you face is an opportunity in disguise. You are being prepared for something much greater."

"The key to success is constant action. Don't stop, the universe is aligning everything for you."

"Doors are opening, and you hold the key. Don't doubt your ability to take advantage of every opportunity."

"Your dreams are valid and attainable. The first step is to believe in them as much as you believe in yourself."

"You are attracting success because you are aligned with your purpose. Keep believing, keep moving forward, the best is yet to come."

"Your capacity to love and create is infinite. Everything you put your heart into doing, becomes art."

"You are exactly where you need to be. Every step you take brings you closer to the person you are destined to be."

Hi pile 3! You are definitely working hard for your dreams and I see that you will be someone very successful! Feel that you are someone artistic, who connects with the most sincere parts of yourself when creating, this will lead you to find your way. Keep going pile 3!

💕💖Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated 💖💕

[r0-boat]

Whb Kings Do NNN Challenge

With a magic cock ring the Kings are (totally not forced) to do a 30-day challenge where they are forbidden from orgasming for the entire month of November let's see how they're faring!

If they win the challenge they get to have you for a week straight doing whatever they want to you.

Satan

Satan was extremely confident that he could do this challenge no problem. Human struggle to do this challenge and he's a king so obviously he would have a better chance.

After the first week he was whining and growling threatening you that as soon as this thing comes off He's going to fuck you and pump all his seed inside you. And you're not going to cum not even once as payback with the suffering you put him through.

Everything irritation because all he could feel is the throbbing between his legs tearing and ripping apart every stress ball in his hand as he tries so hard to stop him from knocking out anyone that mildly inconveniences him.

Mammon

He kind of likes the feeling of being pent up and needy for you. Mammon becomes more and more touchy as time goes on. He'll kiss you and touch you and before you know it he'll be spreading your legs to have more.

Just because he can't cum doesn't mean he can't fuck you, Don't let him do this! Because then he'll go on for hours and hours seemingly without end. Fucking you harder and harder, The sensation in his full balls burns so good.

He cannot wait for when this ring is off him and he gets to give you all of his cum.

Leviathan

Levi's lasts longer than you think, He has a high tolerance for pain like this so it looks like it's hardly affecting him.

In reality, He is in shambles. He can't think and it's driving him crazy He's even resorted to pumping his cock underneath his desk or anywhere where no one can see him. Moaning and gasping your name as tears and drool fall from his face.

He wants to cum, He needs to cum, but he doesn't want to lose this silly little challenge His pride depends on it.

Beelzebub

It's like he's being starved. Please please he's begging you he'll do anything! Let him cum.

He's made the grave mistake of fucking you and hopes he could perhaps try to convince you. But the pain just keeps getting worse and all he wants to do is finish inside you over and over.

He doesn't care about the challenge anymore He just wants to cum. When he pins you down he growls and moans like a feral animal rutting and bucking his hips to no avail. Muttering that he's starving and he needs to cum. The only thing to quench his hunger is feeling your core on his tongue.

Belphegor

How annoying... How very annoying... He thought he could just do this challenge get it over with and have you all to himself for a week as part of the deal. But it turns out he bit off more than he could chew. He thought he could just sleep through it and be done but no.

Wet dreams constantly wake him up and He wakes up with in all too familiar ache and stiffness. He wants to touch himself but he knows from experience it will just get worse.

He doesn't want to lose the challenge now because then it will make him seem weak. But he can't let this go unpunish. He might just give you to Beleth he'll know what to do to punish you.

Lucifer

Child's Play. He's done this his whole life it'll be easy for a month. In fact he's so confident that instead of a cock ring he goes a step further. A chastity belt.

That is what he initially thought, turns out since becomtemptations, it's a lot harder to resist such temptations. Now that he's accepted his pride is on the line and he will not lose.

Lucifer looks like he's unaffected; but believe me he wants you so bad And he will absolutely tell you how he's feeling if you ask. Perhaps he'll even try to convince you with his silver tongue to take off the belt so he could fuck you.

He kind of regrets the chastity belt now because all he wants to do is make you sit on his lap and grinding against you.

The demon of lust was never one to hold back. So when you put up a challenge he was vaguely familiar with he laughed and automatically refused but then you put up an offer he simply too tempting for him not to at least try... Having you for an entire week... Even if it's just for a week The fact that you'll be doing whatever he desires was what sealed the deal.

Asmodeus

He never thought being so pent up would feel so good. He hates it but at the same time the burn of not getting something he usually has a luxury too is addicting.

Only you turn him into a feral beast. And it gets worse This is mind betrays him showing him delicious images of flooding your insides with all that cum his balls is making. He can't help but taunt you and see the uneasiness and fear in your eyes as he's lasting longer than you expected.

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Every planet in the 12th: Observations

The 12th house shows you in which ways you can leave the biggest impact on the world in the purest most intentional way if you so choose.

*I didn't feel like proof reading spare me*

sun in the 12th often misperceived or seen as having underlining motives even when that is furthest from the truth. Actually quite often upfront with their intentions regardless if they know more than they've led you to believe. The projection others put on them is veryyy high, sun person unconsciously triggering deep seated wounds in others while they just assume they’re having a normal conversation. They either love gossip or are always being brought up in gossip. Attracting secret admirers bc of the taboo aspect of their personality. They teach others how to be themselves through example and that gives them the popular loner vibe, everyone wants to know whats going on in their life. Though Its often not as interesting as the stories that are being created about them (probably at home chilling). Unintentionally very funny their light hearted nature makes others feel comfortable. They know how to create warm welcomes. They can read animals minds. They dress how they feel. Escape artist. Probably through music, film or imagination. Gift for photography.

moon in 12th romantic relationships have a big influence on these people. They'll change their whole life around to fit into their lovers life for better or worse. Naturally harmonious these people are seemingly unsuspecting until you piss them off then you realize they just choose to keep peace. Prone to escapism usually through some sort of creative pursuit turned business. Obviously not forward with their feelings ppl tend to label them as having their head in the clouds when in reality they have plans its just nobody else's business. There's a love/resentful relationship with the mother. The mother could've been a physical provider but not emotional. These ppl had to nurture and comfort themselves and it made them very good at being those things for others. Children and animals loveeeee them. They are givers and don't mind sharing for the greater good. Dependable and persistent they can stick out something they feel is important. But if they don't care... Oh its very obvious. That job they don't like? Oh don't even worry about it they'll quit. They don't like feeling stressed or unharmonious and don't mind removing anything thats trying to hinder that. In the lower natures this creates a person that ignores anything that would make them have to readjust their behavior. Extremely delusional and misreads the room quite often. Very emotional changing how they feel about you frequently. It can become hard to give and receive trust.

Mars in the 12th manifest things/experiences so easy especially through their connections. They know how to put themselves in the right rooms with the right people. They date people that improve their social standing and they do the same in return. When its comes to career they could've seemed like the runt in the group but they grew themselves to be well respected in their field. Often hearing ''you only got this because''. They attract a lot of haters jealous of their success or the way they got their success. these people are attractive and naturally have a body others envy, they always have options and good ones at that.

Venus in 12th boy oh boy the hopeless romantics, but whats so hopeless about it? Others may often wonder why you picked the person you did viewing you as opposites. There may be an age gap or cultural difference. The women often choose partners that have a different social standing or perception than their own. The Men do the same though their more willing to be in relationships with unrequited love. Have had their fair share of infidelity issues until they found the person that would ride or die for them and vise versa. Privacy and trust are high priority for these people. Very good at socializing they know how to read what is needed to improve the energy of a space. Their parties/hostings are always so inviting and rememberable. They work very well with children and animals. Especially those in need. Fostering is something they wouldn't mind doing, along with nursing things back to health. Examples hair, nails. Plants etc. Very crafty they'd create beautiful jewelry and clothing. Their style is unique and acquired taste even. Controlling an image or narrative comes natural these Pol could do damage control for celebrities. When Ppl are in a frantic state they know how to calm assist.

Mercury in 12th are good at controlling the narratives around themselves. People hand on to every word that's said. These are the types that prefer to talk when necessary and not give out to much information. Just enough to keep you hooked. They have a unique sound and are musically inclined it helps that they think outside of the box. Usually the leader of the group because of their ability to see the broader picture and keep everyones best interest at heart. They attract haters bc they set high goals for themselves they get viewed as outlandish or unpractical when actually they just believe in themselves and remain optimistic. They know alot about very specific niche things.

Jupiter in the 12th don't get the credit they deserve for being so iconic. They really are trendsetters that break molds and stereotypes and tend receive backlash for the things they say & do simply because they were the first to do it. Opening up the pathway for others to show up more authentically and protected. They have big expression and are passionate about the things they choose to do. Their not afraid to speak their truth and having a forgiving nature. Creative pursuits are well received by the public attracting sponsors easily. Its also easy for them to find/create a community ppl reall gravitate to them. Their kryptonite lies in their self esteem. If they can't face rejection they'll hide the best parts of themselves. Only seeing the beauty in others and not what they offer the world.

Saturn in the 12th need to know when to stop while their ahead. They get into unnecessary battles bc of a fragile or inflated ego. When the ego is healthy this makes for a very powerful person that commands rooms with ease. They make Pol want to sit up in their chair when they walk in. These Pol are stubborn but more often than not it works out in their favor. Very hard workers and the same energy they apply is expected from those around them. If they put in 80 hrs a week they expect the same from you, if I can do it why can't you mentality. They achieve alot and Ppl notice it but its like no one ever sees them working they just see the finished product and know a lot had to be done behind the scenes. For example let's say someone is very popular you know they would've had to built those relationships you just didn't see it happen. They could have a guilt complex about their achievements and feel like theirs still more they should be doing for other ppl. Growing up as the star, the golden child, the one thats going to help the family put a lot of pressure and responsibility on them. This could've also affected the relationship between the others siblings. Lastly these Ppl are either very serious about punctuality or show up whenever they want to. Maybe even both they could've started out one way and over time became another way. When saturn is damaged they run from responsibility and are viewed as childish and never learning from their lessons.

Neptune in the 12th know how to win over the audience. I chose the word audience bc they love an audience. Ppl will make excuses for their behavior like ''you know they had a rough childhood'' as if that excuses hurting others. Professional sympathy grabbers even when their not even trying and great ass kissers when they want to be. That is in neptunes lower natures ofc. These ppl speak their mind without a fuck given. This is like the only pile im cursing in and that kind of explains them. Their going to say what they want and don't mind shaking the room up. Image is important to them. They'll study their own footage to see what they looked like, sounded like, acted like, and change anything they deem as not fitting. They could be great actors or social media personalities. Also would be good at managing social media accounts. These ppl may be easily persuaded especially by those they view as having a higher social ranking than themselves. Knowing how to adapt to any environment is their strong suit. They act as a mirror in their environment and reflect back whatever energy you give them. To a T at that. They know when to play it up or be more lowkey. This is type of person to always leave lasting impressions on ppl. They could be the first in a taboo field to achieve something. Like being the first pornstar to get 100 million views. Its like when you think you have them figured out they do something else that shows there's many other sides to them. Often hearing ''i didnt think I would like you at first''. With a great sense of humor they know how to laugh at themselves and lighten the mood they don't take life to seriously. They attract a lot of unique ppl their friend group is very expansive. They could be friends with a stripper and an attorney. Hell they might've been a stripper and an attorney.

Uranus in the 12th they just pop up and ppl are surprised like ''omg what are doing here'' these ppl are held in high regard mostly bc their very selective with their energy, your viewed as a busy person so when you come around it makes ppl feel lucky. You treat others fairly and want everyone around you to feel accepted. You value keeping the peace. The fact that I'm even using you instead of they is a reflection of how inclusion is important for you. Having an eccentric vibe is more obvious here but alot of ppl go the opposite way and don't want to appear uniquely at all they actually want to be as plain Jane as possible. This can actually rub ppl the wrong way and make them feel something is being hidden from them like your pretending. Feeling criticized in childhood is why accepting others is something they prioritize. They end up in rooms with many different types of ppl. This placement has a lot of experience in a lot of different areas. With a free spirited nature they are open to trying new things pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone quite often.

Pluto in the 12th, a quiet energy standing in the back of the room scoping out the scenery. They notice more than ppl realize and are smarter than they let on. Often having their power tested bc of their calm observing demeanor. Ppl try to make them feel they don't belong in certain environments or that their not really qualified but they don't mind showing you why that perception isn't accurate. They know how to push back. The type to pretend they don't care about popularity but they work very hard at obtaining it. But maybe they don't care about the popularity just the power that it brings. Knowing the value of relationships they put alot into maintaining them. They are very giving to those around them. Self sacrificing even, its like they believe thats how you show someone you really care. These are some of the most passionate people you'll meet. They just know how to make you feel understood and seen. They make everyone feel special. This is one of the most intense placements for the 12th house. The transformations are deep, murky, confusing but it breeds and very self sufficient determined person. They question everything and are always growing and adapting. When they find something they like they become obsessive about it. They will work for extended amounts at a time. Like binging behavior. In Pluto's lower natures they develop a chip or their shoulder and use their influence to hurt others. If they are operating from that place they become very good at it. If they are never brought into awareness they continue generational curses but their children will have it worse than they did. These are the type of Pol that will tell you a traumatic experience in such a casual way and your just left like wtf you said that like it was normal. They also could've grew up experiencing their traumas being brushed off like they were normal. They were familiar with death from a young age and may have felt like they never really were a child. They build the trust of others easily and its bc their honest. It is what it is to them. They are natural born leaders it doesn't take much convincing & they don't mind leading the way as long as you give them their accolades for it. Mind you they could have a god complex but to be fair if you've experienced or achieved the things they have you might too.

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[redjaybathood]

They were probably talking about people not being able to afford heating or having a decent place to live. Like, I know everyone - but the people who actually lived through it/had talked with their grandmas and grandpas about their childhood and youth - believes USSR was some kind of paradise, ditto with communist China. Nobody talks about slavery, about not having enough food to eat - and I am not talking about the famous famines/Holodomor even, just the scarcity of food, unless you are in the party elite - about how people were forced to live in barracks (not like military type barracks, but the cheap flimsy dirty cold type of communal housing with no central heating, no water, not even an indoor toilet)

"oh but USSR gave people free flats" unless you are talking about flats former owners of which, say, Jews, other minorities and types of enemies of the people, were arrested and shot or imprisoned in slavery labor camp prisons (to escape which people even resorted to cannibalism at times... This remark is directly to people who compare USSR prison system to the US one and even find the US one more harsh. How to put it? Prisons in most countries formerly occupied by Soviets are way better than back then, and excluding some more EU oriented countries, the inmates are pretty jealous of the US' prisons conditions, let's put it this way) - so their flats were freed up and up to grabs.

And sure, some people would get those flats, but not everyone.

This is called socrealism not because it realistically and truthfully depicts what's going on: a woman from lower class with a lot of children gets to have amazing luxurious flat, leisure and conditions to grow houseplants, raise a cat, buy a deficit radio or bike - all thanks to Stalin. That wasn't the reality of most of USSR citizen, especially working/farming class (which her hairstyle suggest she's from). That's a carrot they hanged before your nose.

The reality was, even if you got an apartment built by the government, this could have taken years. My family, for example, worked for thirty years before getting a 2 bedroom for six people. And my gran was what they called then, an invalid of childhood (meaning, she got a work-impairing disability from the childhood, thus she was supposed to get more social help from the government. Yeah, right). She didn't have a light job either. She was working full time. My dad, on the other hand, was doing one of the most difficult and health threatening jobs ever.

But hey, you will say, it's still a free flat! I'm in the goddamn capitalist corporate hell America, and I am paying thousands of American dollars to rent!

I feel you, Buddy, I don't have a home of my own either. With the war, I never will - I am pretty sure I will die faster than I can save for a downpayment.

But free flats weren't really free. You were still paying for them, with your labour being the least of it, bc your labour was underpaid. Like, you guys have 401K or something, right? Well, imagine you from now on have to get a pay cut, with your employer keeping most value of what you created, to themselves, and using some of it for a housing fund, where you may or may not get a flat for your grandchildren somewhere down the line. If you don't die earlier or become an enemy of the state or just being not very liked or socially adept person. "Capitalists still do that! We work, they enrich themselves! And now I can't afford to buy a flat!" so yeah, you're basically saying that there's no difference between capitalism and communism, you're still exploited in communism. You get that, right?

So yeah, you would have to pee a lot because you don't have money for charcoal or access to the market - and will be thrown into jail and or short for buying it on the black market - under maoism. And you would have to live in flimsy housing with lotsa spiders because you have to work dozens of years to build a whole apartment building by the cost of your labour, before you get even one room there.

(and that's if you don't piss someone who is sitting on the apartment distribution channel, because oh well. No housing for you, comrade)

I'm glad you two at least did not make fun of settler colonialism.

to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 2

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: angst, break up, cheating!!, cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

You watched as Ellie stuffed her duffel bag with all her clothes out of your shared closet, at least you’d have more space for new clothes, you’ll definitely do some online shopping later to cheer yourself up.

You’ve stopped crying at this point, you decided that Ellie’s not worth your tears right now she doesn’t deserve to see you in this state, you won’t let her have it. Instead you wiped your heavy tears away and tried to stay calm … at least until she left.

Ellie shifted from her kneeling position as she finished packing her things up, she was ready to leave. She tried to get close to you one last time, a poor attempt to initiate a hug which you declined with taking a step back. What the fuck was that?? you thought, she couldn’t stop making this more awkward than it already was.

“I just want you to know that.. i want to try to be friends i can’t throw away everything we went through and i hope you feel the same way..maybe not now but one day ”

Her voice broke mid sentence, but you wanted to laugh in her face. You just threw away everything we had you asshole is what you wanted to say but you bit your tongue.

You wanted to scream at her

i did everything for you! I did everything to make you happy, i gave you my all and you did fucking nothing! Why couldn’t you end things sooner huh? Fucking coward all you did was waste my time and efforts Ellie, fuck i hope you’re happy fucking Dina every night just like you did on your little studying sessions.

“i know you probably hate me and i’m really sorry i just…fuck i fell in love with her you know? I didn’t meant to i swear i-“

She went on and on with her rambling, stopping when she noticed you weren’t listening to her bullshit anymore. All she said was that Dina was better than you, you got it like 20 minutes ago fuck.

“Goodbye Ellie”

at this point you pushed her out of the doorframe, she pleaded you to let her say goodbye properly whatever the fuck that means. You didn’t wanna find out. Ellie was still so immature in the head..poor girl will never know what she wants. Yeah that was probably it you tried to make sense of the situation but it was just stupid. It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t love you the way you deserved, it wasn’t your fault that she needed to ruin what you’ve built for some short term fun.. you were her first kiss, her first time, her first love her first everything.

You guess her thirst for new experiences won against years of loving each other.

You remembered meeting Ellie when you were little, she’d always get into fights with kids that were mean to you on the playground. She was your hero and you believe that you loved her from the very beginning. She’d talk your ear off about space, dinosaurs and how she wanted to become an astronaut when she grows up and you believed in her, you always did.

The day before she asked you to be her girlfriend, Ellie introduced you to her Father, Joel. It was such a beautiful day you got along so well and he absolutely loved you. You were convinced that you were going to marry Ellie one day…how wrong you were.

Once Ellie was accepted into college you were the first one to know but Ellie.. Seattle is so far away.. you were so happy for her but you weren’t made for a long distance relationship. I know but.. i want to get into Aerospace engineering and it’s the best place for that babe.. come with me? Please?

just like that you applied for your dream major and got accepted in no time. You wished things would’ve gone differently..

You shrugged off the memories that were floating in your head as you plopped on your king sized bed, face down on your fluffy pillows. You groaned loudly and forced yourself up against the bed frame, grabbing your phone you left on the nightstand.

Mindlessly scrolling through instagram you stumbled across a picture of her.

It was a mirror selfie in a free weights section of some gym..she was in a tight competition shirt and grey sweats, boxers peeking out just a tiny bit as she flexed her big beefy arms..god you could almost count the muscles on her stomach.

Her blonde locks were tied in a loose braid, little strands framing her freckled face..okay that’s enough you thought as you clicked on her profile taking in every picture her hands are so big you bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together without even noticing has Abby Anderson always been this hot??

Of course she has..straight A student biology major scholarship basketball team captain daughter of one of the greatest neurosurgeons in the state Abby Anderson

Ellie never told you about her feud with her..she just told you to stay away from her at all costs. Babe it doesn’t matter just ignore her trust me she’s no good..i fucking hate her guts is what you recall her saying after Abby greeted you in the hallway like one time.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice that you accidentally liked one of her newest stories oh no no no fuck!! you panicked and threw your phone on your bed far away from you.

ding!

ding!

ding!

please be Ellie you prayed to god that it was Ellie hoping she left something important behind but you were wrong.. maybe you should just end it all now…

after contemplating your entire life for about 5 minutes you dared to click on Abby’s messages

hey doll

heard about your breakup.. Ellie’s a dick anyway lol

want me to cheer you up?

🎀

pt 3

[candyswirls]

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT3

Went for some more fluffy ones. I had a lot of ideas but didn’t want the second part to be overwhelming.

@wolf-feathers12

Imagine:

Guards being confused as space marines come pick them up and bring them to a pile of other space marines. Simply because they are squishy and fragile and the marines are so relieved that they survived. They care about them and want them safe with them in the cuddle pile.

A lone marine refusing to let go of the Cadians because he cares for them and they almost died and he wants to cuddle them and have them be safe and he won’t see his brothers for a bit.

New inquisitors wondering why after a mission the Greyknights are snuggling each other. Don’t get too close. If they grow fond of you, you will never miss out on a cuddle pile.

Cuddle piles are near sacred with Salamanders. Nestling into each other. Being warm and being held. Holding someone else. It’s necessary bonding time. You do the same with your family when you visit them. If you’re ever with another legion they will find themselves surrounded by warm salamanders.

Space Wolves are naturally cuddly. Especially when drunk. Many adepts are warned when it’s drinking time. You’ll find a space wolf nuzzling you. There’s such thing as cuddle dens. When you’ve drank your fill and it’s time to turn in for the night you go to the cuddle den and flop onto the pile. You’ll be pulled in and snuggled by other drunk space wolves before you fall asleep or pass out like the others

Wolf priests introduce new neophytes to cuddle piles, curling around them protectively like a mother wolf and her pups. Do not interrupt this. Wolf priests will get deep into the role and will bite if you get near the pups.

Leman Russ lays down in the middle of the hall. His marines eye him, waiting for the signal. Sometimes he’ll raise out his arms. An invitation for them all to pile on top of him. But not today. Sometimes he wants comfort. He will take his mother wolf pelt and lay it over him. Then motions for his warriors to pile on. They do so and he pretends he’s back in the den with his brothers. Pressed up against his mother. He holds his warriors. He’ll be there all night. Soon you’ll hear snoring.

After a battle, Sanguinius will cuddle his sons. Telling them how proud he is of them. That they were noble and brought honor to the legion. He’ll position himself so they’re surround him and he can cover them with his wings.

Titus joining his first cuddle pile since rejoining the ultramarines. A huge weight off his shoulders as he’s back with his brothers. One with an arm around him, another brother wrapped in his own arms. All is well. All is well.

Tons of marines piled on top of a dreadnought. Determined to show him they can cuddle him. There’s so many of them that the warmth actually reaches through the sarcophagus. Plus their entombed brother is big enough he can hold lots of them.

Firstborns refusing to acknowledge they prefer to cuddle with Primaris marines because they’re bigger and it reminds them of when they were a neophyte and the apothecaries would hold them.

Speaking of apothecaries, they have it best. They get to hold and comfort the neophytes as they go through the process of becoming a marine. Cuddle wounded marines till they’re better. It’s mutually agreed that apothecaries give the best hugs.

Just after the siege of 63-19 and the loss of Sejanus, Horus Lupercal is on the ground, nestled with the three remaining mournival members. It’s just them and it’s silent as the Warmaster grieves. They hold their father this time. A new member will soon be called but for now, Horus needs this.

Iron hands cuddle piles include many soft blankets for utmost comfort. They often fall asleep whilst in each other’s embrace. It’s very important for the well being of a space marine and to bond within the ranks.

(Honestly it’s really fun writing these because I fully believe that there needs to be more normalization with platonic affection. Plus space marines are baby and baby needs to be held)

[windvexer]

Six Directions Banishing for Removal of Malfeasance, and Protection Against Same

A version of a spell taught to me by the Beloved Goat, similar to other rituals that have been taught to me in the past. This spell requires no materials, but may take some playing around with it in order to get the feel of things.

The feel of things is the necessary component for this spell. We also need these definitions* to help feel out the right things:

Malfeasance: Wrongdoing against responsibilities and duties. Something should have happened according to honor and obligation, but instead something wrong was done.

Betrayal: Violation of trust.

Harm: Hurt, damage, unjust effects.

Identifying the problem

The first step is to conjure into your awareness the powers of malfeasance, betrayal, and harm that have been enacted against you.

OBFUK (observe, believe, feel, understand, or know) that within the universe are things harmful to you. Within the universe, malfeasance has been done against you.

Stay with this idea, considering that this is a force that exists in energetic form, and can therefore be manipulated and changed with energy. Play with the idea until you are able to OBFUK that malfeasance against you exists and can be dealt with.

Repeat this step with the concepts of betrayal and harm.

The more you understand and feel these ideas, the better. In this stage you are casting a net by defining what it is you want to deal with.

Contemplate what it really means to have your trust violated. Contemplate what it means for people to have responsibilities to you, and the debt that is created to your wellbeing when these responsibilities are ignored or neglected.

Dwell with these ideas until you have got a pretty good idea of what it is you want to banish and protect against. This stage may initially take several minutes, but with practice may be completed speedily.

Banishing

The second step is to banish malfeasance, betrayal, and harm in six directions. This step is the same for each direction, except you just turn in a circle and/or or re-envision the bisecting line.

Face north. Mentally bisect your body at the midpoint (solar plexus if lying down, middle of skull to top of feet if standing, etc).

OBFUK (observe, believe, feel, understand, or know) that this line of bisection extends infinitely across the universe. You will repeat this envisioning, so play around with it until you are comfortable with it.

Once you have gotten steady with the idea that a divide is going through your body that completely separates the universe into "the north," you are ready to banish.

Say, think, or sign, something quite like the following (note the four distinct sections; identifying problem, setting intent, commanding action, demanding results):

I see the malfeasance that is to the north of me. I see the betrayal that is to the north of me. I see the harm that is to the north of me. I revoke these things. I rebuke these things. I banish these things. They fade into the earth and into the blackness between stars. They turn to ash and dust and settle into the forest and into nebulae. They scatter to the winds and become the colors in the sunset. They sink into the waters and become algae the fish and frogs feed on. To the north of me, malfeasance, betrayal, and harm enacted against me are banished. They are no more.

It's best to stay with this portion until you are personally satisfied that you've said the right things. You may like to go on a diatribe about how the energies are burned by hellfire and consumed by demons, and so on.

The spell is all the better if you stay with each direction and gnash on the energies until you are satisfied that you have settled on the right words. Repeat sections as many times as you like, using any words that inspire you. Polish is less effective than conviction.

Protecting

After you have banished in one direction, re-focus on the bisecting line. In the middle of your body, on the axis of that line, is a core of power.**

OBFUK (observe, believe, feel, understand, or know) that this is your personal power.

That power is ready to flow around you in a spherical shield that protects you.

Say, think, or sign the following:

To the north, I am protected. I am protected from malfeasance. I am protected from betrayal. I am protected from harm.

As you intone this, OBFUK that an impermeable, impassable, perfect shell of protective power pours forth from you in a hemisphere, wrapping around you from east to west, entirely protecting you from what is in the north.

Repeat this portion as many times as necessary, or play around with it a bit, until you feel satisfied the protection has occurred.

Moving in 6 Directions

Repeat the Banishing and Protection step for each of the six directions (north, south, east, west, above, below).

You may go in any order you like. I move clockwise from north, hitting east, south, and west; then turning north again to finish above and below.

Each time you work in a new direction, adjust how you envision the bisecting line that goes through your body.

Your goal is to envision the line in such a way that all six lines intersect at the same point, if possible, marking a singular point. The banishing pushes everything outwards from this singular point.

In order to accomplish this, moving around or readjusting yourself may be necessary.

Remember that each time you conjure the Protection, it is a hemisphere. This means it necessarily overlaps the others. Half of the eastern hemisphere will overlap north, and the other half will overlap the south. The above and below hemispheres will encapsulate all for hemispheres before it.

You may find that banishment and protection are easier or harder in different directions, which is normal. Work in each direction until you are satisfied both with the banishment and the protection.

As you move through subsequent directions, you may find your hemispheres interlock or layer in ways you weren't expecting. Let the energy moves as it desires, as long as it conforms with your standards of protection.

When you have worked in 6 directions and laid down 6 hemispheres (to create 3 total overlapping spheres of protection), move to the finish.

Sealing

There are 3 complete spheres of protection around you; one created by the joining of north and south, one created by the joining of east and west, and one created by the joining of above and below.

Whether or not these spheres seemed to combine, or were combined, in earlier steps, seal everything now to properly finish the protection.

With your focus on yourself (not necessarily placed upon any direction), intone the following:

The protections to the north of me and to the south of me join together in perfect unison and perfect harmony. I am infinitely protected from all malfeasance, all betrayal, and all harm. The protections to the east of me and to the west of me join together in perfect unison and perfect harmony. I am infinitely protected from all malfeasance, all betrayal, and all harm. The protections above me and below me join together in perfect unison and perfect harmony. I am infinitely protected from all malfeasance, all betrayal, and all harm. I am infinitely protected from all malfeasance, all betrayal, and all harm.

The spell is complete.

[*The definitions are for the purpose of this spell, so we can sniff out what we are working on like a bloodhound sniffing out a rabbit. Dictionary definitions may differ.]

[**This is true for the purposes of the spell but not necessarily true in any other circumstance]

[b-lossm]

•+*Forevers a long time*+•

Vi (arcane) x reader [angst-> comfort kinda..]

synopsis: Vi visits your new home before her big mission..

SEASON 2 SPOILERS KINDA!!!!

This is hard; fathoming the possibility that this may be the last time she sees you, its hard.

Vi tries her best to put up her brave walls again but when she hears your breath getting caught in your throat she realizes that its pointless "H-Hey this isn't goodbye" she says while haphazardly wiping your tears, trying to wipe her own as well, she knows that she might be lying, but for your sake she cant believe that too.

"B--But--" you start "No, I will come back, not in a box, okay?" she tries to reassure you through her shaky words wrapping her arms around you to bring you down "Vi d--don't even say that don't say that I wasn't trying to bring it up but--" hic "You cant leave, no, not right now, everything was going good before the explosion, you cant" you ramble on about how you two where finally gonna have a good life together, how her impatient self waited so long to get out of Stillwater to have a good life with you and now this? She quickly shuts you up with a soft kiss to bring you down.

"Hey--Hey Y/n breathe, breath Lovebug" she attempts to calm you down by tracing shapes into your side and kissing your cheeks, something that always works "I know, I don't like waiting for anything and we finally got here, but to make sure we keep everything we worked for I have to go, its only gonna be for a week ok and the---" you cut her off "Yeah a week where you might die!" she sighs, your right, your almost always right "Yeah, I know" she starts, pausing her motion for a split second, contemplating her life "Lovebug, you gotta understand that even if I do die, its for the greater cause, plus you know Cait, she doesn't miss, and you know me! I don't miss.. well most of the time" she chuckles while planting kisses all over your face and hairline.

When she finally gets you too stop crying she holds your hand "Tell you what.." she starts "When I come back, I'll get you that pretty promise ring you always wanted hm?" your mouth runs dry "Really Vi..?" you ask while your face flushes red "mhm' really, then I'll be yours forever, well until I really propose" she looks into your eyes, the color soothes her, it always does. You shake your head while smiling sadly "Well m' gonna hold it to you Vi, forever's a long time and I need you for that so you better come back" you say bittersweetly, still coping with the idea that your girlfriend might not come back.

"I want you to pinky promise that you'll come back Violet" 'Oh shit', she thinks you used her real name, She smiles and holds up her pinky “If I don't come back I want you too cut my pinky off for the funeral" she jokes as you interlock your fingers and lock it in with your thumbs "M' serious Vi, I need you here.. a lot of us do" you smile shyly "yeah I know" she says with a cocky smirk

Afterwards you two headed to bed and had hot and sad sesbian lex

———————————————————————————

The day after you where a mess.

You got dressed and got her ready to go "Go get her Vi, I'm sorry that its her that you have to get.." you say sadly, reminiscing on the times you and Vi hung out with powder, the times that you wanted the small girl to cherish. "She's gone Y/n, m' sorry but she is, I think I'll be ok." she takes a deep breath, realizing that in a way she's become something she never wanted to be "I know, just, be careful.." You say while admiring your tall girlfriend in the mirror thinking its weird how she's wearing the enforcer uniform, then you hear Caitlyn's knock at the door.

"I guess this is it then.." she starts but you quickly shut her down "No, we where sad yesterday, today your gonna go be the only cool ass enforcer and your gonna get her. Then your gonna come back to me like you promised" You say, determined to lighten the mood, She quickly pulls you into a deep kiss, its a goodbye kiss you know it is, but it doesn't matter to you anymore.

"Bye--Bye Vi, I'll hold up the fort while your gone"

"Bye Lovebug, I'll see you in a week"

you watch them as they leave, Vi looking back too see if you where still looking as many times as she can to make sure she can remember your face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n

Season 2 brings me so much sorrow I made a playlist :(

This was supposed to be like Japanese Denim by Daniel Ceaser but it didnt really come through, I'll def make a fic based off of it more in the future though.

also why is there a Vi fanfic drought????, someone pls send me some, not alot of smut tho because there is so much.

[agirlwithglam]

how to have an alluring and magnetic aura always?? even when you feel insecure 💞

hi pookie!

ok so first, fix the insecure part. because you shouldn't be wanting to be attractive and appealing to others when you're not even that to yourself! people see and feel the vibe of how you feel about yourself and if you're insecure, then they can see that. how do you expect people to love and accept you if you don't yourself?

so first to have a magnetic aura, grow yourself. become confident, evolve as a person, learn new things, be cultured, etc. learn more about yourself first. anyways, heres some tips;

how to be magnetic and alluring

⭐️magnetic people are charismatic! take an interest in others, make them feel seen and heard. to be honest nowadays its not even so hard to do that because so many people are obsessed with their phone or all they do is always talk about themselves. imagine how appreciated someone would feel if you actually took the time to make them feel seen and appreciated and loved as a person? stop focussing on making you look magnetic and alluring, and start focusing on how you can make other people feel better!

also along with this, be kind. you do not wanna be one of those fake confident people who think theyre confident but are actually really rude. no. instead, ask people about their day, check up on them. be a good person. be empathetic and show sincere interest in others!

⭐️your vibration. below i have put a vibration chart. when you are vibrating at a higher level with joy, love, and peace, you can easily attract much more and much better into your life! but when you're vibrating in the lower end of the spectrum in fear, guild, and anger, then people can also sense that and will stay away from you.

to get your vibration higher, what you can do is do things that make you happy, make you laugh! whether thats spending time with people you love, watching a comedy, dancing all your heart out (dancing is a very good option btw), do it and see how you feel after.

⭐️dont overshare about your life. let there be a bit of mystery around you. let people wonder a bit about you. dont tell theme very single story of your life- and learn that its okay if theres parts in a conversation where you're silent and have nothing to say. pausing to actually take the time to think about what to ask is much better then desperately trying to fill the conversations with meaningless stories about yourself.

⭐️BE AUTHENTIC. if youre trying to be someone else or copy their personality, how they talk their style, etc completely- people can sense that low vibrational energy! they can sense that you dont feel comfortable in the person who you are which then makes you more repulsive to others. always be fully and truly yourself.

not everyone will like or love you for being yourself, but you need to stop seeing that something so bad and scary. its actually good to be disliked because then you will attract so many lovely better people for you who love you wholly for the person you are!

⭐️present yourself in the best way possible. a way that makes you feel confident in yourself. a way that makes you step out into the world and truly believe that you can do anything. i dont mean be super obsessed with your looks, but take care of yourself. have good hygiene. smell nice. wear nice clothes that make you feel better. when people see that you're taking care of yourself and you really care about yourself, they will reflect that to you.

⭐️have an open body style! make eye contact and dont close your body- that will make you look reserved and as if you don't want anyone to come to you because you're too scared. don't be afraid to TAKE UP SPACE!

your to-do list:

when you're having a conversation with someone else, listen to all the words they say, how they say it, how they feel about it, then ask questions about it it will much more naturally come to you when you arent spending the entire time thinking about what to say to please them

go check up on a friend or a love one right now. text them saying how are you? let them know you're thinking of them.

start doing your favourite hobbies, stuff that your younger self loved doing.

actually take care of yourself when you go out. get your nails done, brush your hair, lip gloss, etc.

next time you're in a public space/ an event/ party, have an open body langauge and DON'T cross your arms!

do something that will raise your vibration

[ghousttm]

no because i created in my head like a whole interaction between the two in a void

let me try to remember what i imagined

(spoilers on PvP civilization and Parkour Civilization btw)

ok so i dont give half enough of a fuck to make this into proper dialogue but

it went along the lines of

pvp evbo admiring how many people believe in and rely on pk evbo, and how good he is at parkour

and how in pvp civ nobody even believes in him, and maybe he could've done better in pk civ, he could've lived better - he could totally pull off a good Parkour and get himself a mansion to live in the rest of his life

but pk evbo is like. But in pk civ you're not actually free.. no matter whay rank you're in and how good your Parkour skills are. Heck - he had to become god to have some peace of mine

"so I guess I'll never have a peaceful life then-.." pvp evbo sighed as he hugged his knees, in a more annoyed tone than anything - but also unmeasurably tired.. for such a small body, to be so exhausted, it's almost pitiful

"hey.. cheer up man" pk evbo placed a hand on his shoulder, a small smile on his face "your series, and your journey, isn't even over yet! You'll get that ending eventually. I'm sure."

"hah- thanks, but.. I'm not even good pvp. It feels like I've still got such a long way to go- but I'm already falling behind compared to.. well- nobody. But if I dont get good enough soon enough, my friends will get hurt! and I'll never escape--"

"-woah woah! hey! calm down. breathe.."

"..seems.. like you've gone through a lot,"

"I dunno, dying like a gazillion times isn't that much."

"oh wow- I've only died like. Twice."

pvp evbo shrugs "You get used to it.. sorta... "

"... wether you're ready for it or not.. you're probably gonna find yourself having to improvise and keep going, if not for the sake of others, for yourseld.. I've had two second chances, and you seem to have an unlimited supply of chances - still, dont let it all go to waste."

....

maybe smth smth

pvp evbo telling pk evbo "you're able to live your own life in relative comfort - you shouldn't have let that 'master' tell you what to do! 'Saving the world' isn't your problem.."

i dunno

i think they both should be put in the same room and given building blocks to play with

The two Evbos meet. (Silly little sketch)

I always saw parkour!Evbo to be early to mid 20s-ish, while PvP!Evbo to be around mid to late teens (15+). The differences between the two is so big for me. Pkciv!Evbo is very confident and becomes god while pvp!Evbo is literally a child who is used as a tool of sacrifice. Evbo is good at making these characters different but still distinctly himself.