#Bon (FALSE)

[snogfairy]

hey remember when aziraphale and crowley ran into each other in rome and aziraphale said 'well then let me tempt you to- oh, no, that's your job, isn't it, haha'? what if crowley succumbed to the temptation in more ways than one? what if they had oysters and sex about it? then what?

wordcount: 17,8k rating: explicit tags: PWP, Rome 41AD, oysters, so many oysters, so many orgasms too, banter, little bit of emotion little bit of angst, but mostly fun, oysters and aardvarks, food kink, oral fixation, roman baths, an oyster is never just an oyster, and what is love but hunger (more tags on ao3)

READ ON AO3 🦪

[doughguts-art]

Getting back into marker illustrations this week

Seneca (lil fox bastard lol) belongs to Claude Huggins

Everyone else here belongs to me! Bandit (both sms and elsen), Louis, Louis Reed, The Assistant (blue gal), Bon (the other elsen), and Marble

[doughguts-art]

This post inspired me to do a little doodle with how some of my elsens do this. Little guys get so stressed their eyes change, lol

My favorite thing in OFF fanart is whenever someone draws the Elsens they draw them normally but when they’re considerably distressed out of their minds their eyes pop out

LIKE DAMN WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED

[faircatch]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Elica Le Bon الیکا‌ ل بن (@elicalebon)

[daycourtofficial]

Deceptive Domestication

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 7.7k | Warnings: sexism, misogyny

Summary: The two of you have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Can you live with this false reality? Or will your feelings for Azriel eat you alive when it’s over?

Author’s note: started making it, had a breakdown, bon apetit

“Angel, where are you?”

Azriel’s deep voice moves on the wind, finding you at the back of your cottage. You twist the new ring adorning your fourth finger, the skin beneath it showing no tan lines, “I’m back here, just one second!”

Azriel laughs, his voice sweet and full of honey, “the wife’s an avid gardener. When we were first considering moving here, she insisted we check the soil to make sure she would be able to have her prized blackberries.”

You appear from the side of the house, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress. Azriel’s arm reaches around you, clasping you on your shoulder as you get next to him. 

“He’s right, I love my blackberries greatly,” you say, reaching out to shake hands with your new neighbors. They lived in the house closest to yours, a red thatched roof adorning the black building. Delicious smells came from it, and judging by the smoke from the chimney, they were likely preparing dinner when they saw you two.

“We just wanted to come by and meet the two of you, we saw you come in last night and wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Arben,” the male points to himself, “and this is my wife, Alija.”

You nod to both of them - they looked to be a good bit older than you and Azriel, wrinkles adorning their tanned faces. “Thank you, this used to be my Uncle Sal’s home. Since he passed away recently, he left the home to us and we wanted to leave our home village.”

“I’m so sorry about Sal, sweetheart,” he says, a sympathetic look in his eye, “he was a nice male, talked about you all of the time. Alija has to finish dinner, but we’ll see the two of you around, yeah?”

You press your lips into a firm smile, nodding before pressing into Azriel’s side and turning back to the house. His arm on your back guides you to the door of your new home, his touch a familiar warmth amidst all of the new. Once you cross the threshold, shutting the door behind yourselves, Azriel’s hand falls from your back and he immediately puts distance between you two, walking towards the bedroom he was staying in. His smile drops, the air in the room frigid. Rhys’s words clang through you, a shock to your senses.

Go to this village as a married couple. I’m unsure how long it will take.

You jolted as Azriel slammed the door behind him. Sighing, you move to your own room, taking in the bags left to unpack. You had taken great care to pack enough to last you as the season changes. The two of you were here indefinitely, marooned in a quaint village of about forty-three people.

Move in, become friends with the neighbors, find out what you can.

There was a circle of villages in the western part of the Night Court where females kept disappearing - six had gone missing in the last month. The villagers were not speaking to outsiders, but Rhysand thought a long term mission might allow the spies to get close enough to get some questions answered.

So he decided on you and Azriel.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It had been strange seeing Azriel play this version of a spy, even if it had only been a day. You were so used to him lurking in the shadows, it felt so strange to watch him play the part of a doting husband, and to do it well. Introducing you to the neighbors and random villagers, a hand kept on your skin at all times - on your lower back, your waist, your shoulders. It was so easy to get swept up in the illusion you two were selling - even you were convinced you were newlyweds, moving for a fresh start.

Until he slammed his door, reminding you it was all fake, a farse for information.

Things between you and Azriel have always been easy. You two were the best of friends, most of your free time being spent with him since joining the Inner Circle two years ago. The two of you spent countless nights sitting together when sleep wouldn’t find you, you two had even developed a code - open bedroom doors at night were a silent invitation for the other to come in, spending most nights in each other’s rooms, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of the two of you.

All of that ended very suddenly a few months ago. Suddenly his door was always closed to you, your own cracked every night. A call to him, begging him to acknowledge you.

You started keeping your door closed a month ago. It didn’t feel right, shutting him out, but clearly you had done something wrong. Your entrance into a room would cause him to leave immediately, changes in his training schedule to avoid you, abruptly turning around when he saw you.

It was all pissing you off.

The rest of the Inner Circle were just as clueless as you were as to what happened to cause Azriel’s sudden distance. Cassian tried to interfere - making plans with both of you for dinner at a restaurant and ditching, trying to force you two to spend time together.

Azriel just left once he caught sight of you.

That was your tipping point. You stopped going to training, you pulled back from family dinners. They were his family first, and you wanted to give him whatever space he needed. Everyone protested, telling you it was his problem, and in Cassian’s words “if he’s going to be a jackass, I don’t want him around anyway.”

Still, you retreated, hardly seeing much of the family you had forged over the past few years. No matter how much it hurts you to do so.

Once you began accepting this new Azriel-less reality, Rhys had called you into his office. The high lord looked almost conflicted, your entire family aware that something weird was happening between you and Azriel. None of them dared to ask Azriel, his darkened mood making it incredibly easy to anger him, and anytime they asked you they were met with a shrug and a soft, “I don’t know.”

All of them had been scratching their heads, desperate for an explanation for the sudden iciness between you two. It had been weeks of this, and everyone missed seeing the two of you exchanging whispers in the corner or watching Azriel’s shadows wind through your hair.

Which was why Rhysand decided to insert himself into the situation. He called you into his office, and after asking you to take a seat, he began asking after your week. Your eyebrows knitted, confused about the formality of it all, when you realized you haven’t actually seen Rhysand in almost a month. 

You had taken up residence in the House of Wind - since you were a scholar it lended easy access to your work, and whenever you wanted to leave, you asked Azriel to ferry you around. You tried to remember the last time you saw anyone in the inner circle that wasn't Cassian or Nesta, and it was when Cassian offered to fly you into town to get lunch with Feyre three weeks ago.

You’re not certain how to tell Rhysand the past few weeks had been filled with silence, whatever happened between you and the shadowsinger led you to avoid Cassian and Nesta, avoid training, avoid anything that wasn’t being buried in your work in the library.

You look into violet eyes, and you check your mental shields because he’s looking at you as if he already knows how sad this whole situation has made you.

You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Time is passing, I suppose.”

Rhys’s face falls a bit at just how dejected you sounded. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - they all knew there was something between you and Azriel, they all saw how you two gravitated towards each other. Neither of you would open up about whatever it was that shifted things so quickly and easily and it was pissing all of them off.

“I need your help with something.”

It was the best plan they could come up with to try to salvage things.

-

You woke up early the next morning, determined to tend to the garden before the sun reached its peak in the sky. You had plans later in the afternoon to meet with a few of the women of the village, but you had to get to working on this garden. There was no time table on this mission, and the two of you only had food stores to last you a few months.

If you were to be stuck in this purgatory that long, you needed new food to replenish whatever you use.

Your story to tell the villagers was that the two of you were quite young from the other end of Illyria. The two of you were extraordinarily lucky that one of the older fae males in this village happened to pass away a few weeks ago, allowing the two of you an easy in. You merely reviewed some family records, and were posing as his beloved niece, here to lead a new life with her husband.

You tended to the garden behind the house - the weeds had grown wildly in the previous owner’s absence. Your ‘uncle's absence, that is.

You spent all morning pulling weeds, making quite an improvement to the garden before you decided to go in and make yourself lunch. You came in, rinsing the dirt from your fingers, the water feeling nice against some of the minor cuts you acquired outside. After drying off, you pulled out a loaf of bread, slicing the bread to prepare some sandwiches. 

You hummed to yourself, trying to fill the silence of the house. It wasn’t large - a quaint two bedroom house with two bathrooms, a nice little kitchen, and a sitting room. You were a bit surprised at how well the interior of the house had been maintained by your ‘uncle’. 

Azriel was headed with the rest of the males to the war camp, spending his day training as a lesser ranked Illyrian. He was glamoured to look enough not like himself to the other Illyrians that they wouldn’t think anything of him. You had also glamoured some of Azriel’s siphons, only allowing one on his chest to remain. He was not happy about it, not wanting to seem so much weaker than he truly was. He wouldn’t listen to any of your points about it, but Rhys eventually convinced him to allow your glamour to cover six of his siphons because “it’s quite obvious who you are”.

Azriel’s refusal to listen to even your opinions on the mission was grating. You wanted to get to know the local females, and Rhys agreed with you, but Azriel kept arguing that ‘it wasn’t safe’.

Stupid Illyrians and their stupid pigheadedness, you suppose. If you’re not supposed to speak with the other females, why were you even here?

You knew this mission would be difficult for Azriel - his hatred for his own people fueling centuries of anger and resentment. You thought being trapped here was an appropriate punishment for how he had iced you out of his life.

You had just finished making your sandwich when there was a knock at the door. You brushed your hands down your dress, glamouring wings back to life behind you, breathing deeply before you answered the door.

An Illyrian woman stood in your doorway, her dark curls slightly hiding her tanned face that was turned down. She was taller and broader than you, but still small for an Illyrian. Her demeanor told you they treated her that way as well. Her wings were tucked in tight behind her and her shoulders shook lightly before you.

Her voice was weak as she told you, “we go every day, bringing lunch to the males, if you wish to accompany us.”

Wish.

You knew the reality of coming here - you knew they would give a few days of grace to settle in, set up your garden, bereave your uncle before they assigned you to a chore rotation. In communities like this one, everyone had to pull their weight.

It was just astonishing how ‘pulling your own weight’ made the females seem two to three times heavier than the males.

You nod your head to the female, closing the door behind you as you meet her outside. You had no idea where the war camp was, knowing it mustn’t be too far from the village. You vaguely remember Azriel and Rhys discussing the three villages that filtered into the camp, how all three were short walks from the villages.

Dirt crunches beneath your boots as you walk alongside the female, her deep brown eyes downcast towards the ground, shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible as you walk. “What’s your name?” You ask, your voice causing her to flinch. Her eyes were wide as they looked at you, shock at being addressed you presumed. It was astonishing how awfully they must treat her, because her face resembled a wounded dog’s.

“Kaltrina.” Her words are mumbled, and you have to strain your ears a little to hear her. 

“Kaltrina - it’s nice to meet you. Um, are you married?”

Not your usual first question, but around these parts marriage was as good as social standing. Also any unwed women over the age of 24 were considered ‘unwanted’ or ‘untameable’. This village was harsh on women - even by Illyrian standards. The males of this village made Devlon look forward and free-thinking.

“No, not married. I live with my brother, Dardan.”

Her tone didn’t suggest anything about him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. She offers you a smile and a soft nod, “is your husband nice?”

You offer the same soft nod before you hear her say, “he’s quite good looking, too.”

You pause, trying to remember everything Cassian and Rhysand had told you about Illyrians to prepare for this - they told you males were incredibly territorial, treating their wives more like trophies and laborers rather than spouses. A male would take this as a compliment - one mention of a good-looking wife would be something to boast about, mentioning it more than once would be an offense.

But how did the females treat their husbands, how did they speak to each other about them? It was the biggest gap in your knowledge, but you suppose you can explain away any discrepancies on how far away the two of you came from.

“Yes, he’s quite pretty.”

She giggles at your words, and you feel a swell of pride at getting it right. She walks next to you, standing a little straighter for the rest of the walk.

The two of you made it to the war camp, joining the other females to distribute food to the males. The males look at you like you’re not much more than a piece of meat or some dirt on their boots, but your eyes scanned the crowd for Azriel, not finding him the entire time you’re there.

You do get a chance to speak with a few of the females as you all head back to the village, carrying leftover food with you. Most of them seem to welcome you - suggesting what crops grow best in the area, telling you to reach out if you need any help with anything.

The other females head off at the fork in the road, telling you and Kaltrina they would see you the next day. You breathe deeply, looking to Kaltrina once more. She hardly spoke once the two of you had met up with the other females at the war camp, keeping her distance from them the entire time.

“How’s your brother?” You ask, the innocent question causing Kaltrina to flinch. 

“He’s a fine male.”

Her answer feels so dry, so rehearsed. You don’t press the issue, changing topics instead. “How will you spend the rest of the afternoon?”

“Chores.”

You listen to the birds singing around the both of you, their song a beautiful melody across the skies. You eventually pass a house similar to your own, but a bit smaller, the roof not well cared for. Kaltrina gives you a small wave before turning down the path to her house, disappearing behind the door. 

You kept walking towards your own house, but you did see her appear in the window briefly, watching you walk down the road. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, but you quickly looked forward again, making your way back to the house, determined to finish unpacking this afternoon.

-

You had finished unpacking by the time you heard the door open, Azriel traipsing through the house. 

“Hello my loving husb-“

Your sarcastic words die as you turn to see his face, a cut on his lip and a black eye. He shakes his head, trying to tell you it’s nothing, and he starts moving to just head to his room, but you’re not having it.

“We have some bandages in the bathroom.” Your words don’t have a command in them, but he heads towards the bathroom. You pick up a bottle of alcohol, dabbing some on a rag. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and he goes.

You’re a few inches from his face, the closest you’ve been in months. His scent was so comforting, you just wanted to wrap yourself in it and stay for a while. He stays silent, his face a blank slate you could slap any emotion to. 

His shadows have been having fun whizzing around the house. He had told them they had to stay completely hidden if they were to come to the war camp with him, otherwise they had to stay in the house or go off wherever they wanted. They didn’t like the options, but most of them stayed with him, tucked into his boots, his pants, the hilt of his sword. Now that he was back, they scattered across the house, energetic wisps of darkness moving through the house, through your hair, against your skin.

“What happened?”

He huffed, his fingers dancing on his thighs in irritation. “I’m a new male, they’re just seeing if I can take it.”

You nod, and from the irritation in his voice, you know he’s shutting you back out. You hold the alcohol covered rag up to his lip, cleaning the blood from his face. He had healed a good bit since he received the beating, and you notice his knuckles are bloody. 

Hopefully he put up a good enough fight. 

“I went with some of the women to the war camp to distribute food.”

His eyes snap to yours, his wings rustling behind him. His eyes were dark, a look to them you’ve never seen directed at you. He reaches his hand up to your wrist, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

You’re taken aback by his tone - even if your relationship was tenuous, he never took such an aggressive tone with you. In all your years of friendship, the most strain in his voice you had heard directed at you was when you were free climbing up the cabinets of the kitchen to get to the top shelf for some cookies.

“Because Rhys thinks-”

“I don’t give a damn what Rhys thinks when it comes to you, I said it was a bad idea and to stay away from them.”

“They’re battered females, Azriel! The males treat them like dirt! And their friends and sisters and mothers have gone missing. I can help them, I know I can - that’s why we’re here!”

His hand tensed around you before he pulled his hand away from you. He looks away from you, his harsh breathing echoing through the small bathroom.

“You’ll only get yourself hurt by talking to them.”

He snatched the rag from your hand, pushing past you out the bathroom and into his room, slamming the door on your once again. You want to scream or stomp your feet at how ridiculous he was being.

“I’m not a kid you can boss around, Azriel.”

His silence didn’t make you so certain about that.

-

The next week goes by much like your first full day in the village - you wake up after Azriel’s gone, tend to the house (your ‘uncle’ left it in semi-decent shape, but it did need a few repairs), head with Kaltrina to the war camp to feed the males (where you were even able to meet Kaltrina’s brother and several of the female’s husbands), and spend your afternoon preparing dinner for the two of you.

You’re not on speaking terms with Azriel after his outburst while you cleaned him up - every day he’s returned with some minor cut and scrape, and all you do is point to the alcohol and provide him with fresh rags. You won’t clean him up yourself, you’re too pissed at him for that, but you still urge him to do it himself

You still care, despite it all. 

Despite the ice between you and Azriel, the females of the village began opening up to you, accepting you as one of their own. You join them every day to serve lunches to the males, and several of them even invited you to their homes to help teach you how to cook with the regional vegetables. 

“Your husband’s too skinny,” one said, “I’ll teach you how to cook.”

You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, but you took it for what it was - an offering. You spent the afternoon with her, learning how to smoke pig ‘the correct way’. She had told you her name was Bora, she and her husband have lived in this village for several centuries, and she has had many, many smoked pigs.

“None compare to my family recipe.”

She was quite intimidating, and you could tell she took shit from no one, not even her husband. You were touched that she would share her family recipe with you so readily, thinking perhaps she took a special interest in you until another female stopped by and, after telling her Bora was teaching you her family recipe, she told you, “it’s how she inaugurates new females to the village’.

You were less touched and your ego deflated a bit, but you were still grateful she would spend so much time with you. The afternoon flew by, time not registering as you helped Bora peel her vegetables while the pork cooked. 

You looked up, noting the dark sky through the window, dropping the zucchini. “Oh no,” you mutter, running out of the house to the road, eyes wide to find Azriel running up the road, blades drawn. His siphon was glowing in the dark, it’s cobalt blue blazing with intensity.

He was frantic, and you could have sworn you saw his shadows frantically zipping around him, moving in and out of houses. His body visibly relaxes as he spots you, rushing towards you. His arms wrap around you, crushing you into an embrace. His breathing is ragged, “I thought- I thought- you-”

His words come out choppy, but he pulls back, his hands on your face. He’s breathing hard, trying to string words together. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement.

“Is everything alright?”

Bora’s voice startles Az, and one of his shadows whips into a defensive position before you shoo it away. He quickly collects himself, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you to his chest.

“Sorry, I got worried when I got home and my wife wasn’t there.”

He pats your hair, his hands combing through them softly. “Just need her to be safe, s’all.”

Bora nods, perhaps more understanding than she should be of Azriel’s concern. “Ah, to be newly married again. She was safe,” she turns away before adding, “she’s always safe here with Bora.” 

The older female waddles back inside for a moment before coming back out to the two of you, the tray of pork and vegetables on it. “Here’s dinner tonight - Bora’s family recipe.” She winks at you, and the two of you politely thank her before heading back to your house. You carried the tray, but Azriel kept both of his hands on you the entire walk back.

The walk back is mostly quiet, Azriel’s heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline leaves his body. You swivel your head around, noticing no one out in the village at this hour.

“Why were you being so nice and touchy to me out there and anytime we see the neighbors?” Your words come out barely more than a whisper, but you knew he heard them. “The men in this village hardly view their wives as more than livestock, it might be more suspicious for you to be so nice to me.”

He turned, just enough for you to see the side of his face, to watch his mouth as he said, “I could never do that to you.”

You spent the rest of the walk in silence, spending the entire time dissecting the way he said “you”.

-

Your house with Azriel is still quiet, the two of you living separate lives behind the oak door. Sleeping apart, eating dinner in different rooms. You two only spoke when you were outside of the house. 

A few days after cooking with Bora, you and Kaltrina were headed back to the village from the camps for lunch when she offered to help you make dinner. 

“I want to say thanks, for being my friend.”

Her words make you feel terrible over how strange you had found her. Maybe she was just awkward. You weren’t sure, but you knew you’d be safe inside your own home, so you agreed to let her stay. 

The two of you prepare dinner, Kaltrina seeming a bit nervous as she skitters about your kitchen. You make idle small talk, but the air in the room seems so off you can’t put your finger on it.

“What will your brother be doing for dinner tonight?” 

She looks a bit downcast as she tells you, “he has plans tonight, he’s eating at his friend’s house.”

Her tone tells you not to ask anymore, and you don’t press the issue any further. 

The two of you eat in silence, Kaltrina’s eyes moving around your house, taking in every detail. She excuses herself to the bathroom, and you show her where it is. 

In Kaltrina’s absence, Azriel makes his way through the front door, his shadows beginning to spread throughout the house in contentment. You quickly shake your head at the tiny wisps that come to you, sending them back to Azriel. You point towards the bathroom, jerking your head at the noises from behind the door trying to tell him someone was here.

The water runs, and Azriel quickly moves across the room, his arms circling your waist. Your eyebrows pinch, but you quickly relax them as Kaltrina leaves the bathroom. Her steps halt at seeing Azriel, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.

“Kaltrina, this is my husband. Valon, this is my friend, Kaltrina.”

He nods to her before squeezing your waist and giving a swift kiss to your temple. Kaltrina’s eyes linger on the display of affection, not breaking contact even moments later. Azriel rubs your back, eyes fond as he looks to you, “I’m going to head to bed, take your time with your friend, but don’t leave me waiting too long.”

Was that a signal? You two slept in separate rooms - what did his words mean? You lean up, kissing his cheek before rubbing at his jaw and nodding. He turns his attention towards Kaltrina, “it was nice meeting you Kaltrina, my wife is quite fond of you. Have a good night.”

Her mouth is slightly ajar, her cheeks a harsh shade of red as she squeaks, “good night.”

Azriel nods at her and he slips into your bedroom, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You turn back to Kaltrina, her eyes lingering on the door to your bedroom, and you could almost feel the yearning radiating from her. 

“Come on, we should clean up a bit.” The two of you head into the kitchen, cleaning and scraping the dirty dishes from earlier. You two work in silence, the only sounds in the room are the scrubbing of pots.

“Your husband seems quite nice.”

Her voice is full of want and yearning. You stop cleaning pots before you, Kaltrina’s eyes fixed on you until you look. She turns her eyes away, looking back to the pots.

“Yes, he is very kind.”

“He’s unlike any of the males around here.”

This conversation felt a bit dangerous. Azriel said it was fine, that he couldn’t treat you the way any of these males treat their wives - like servants, like cattle, like nothing. But you knew the females of the village would notice how he treated you, if they haven’t already. You start to wonder if they had noticed, discussing the odd outsiders, figuring the two of you out, getting you-

“He’s very good-looking.”

Kaltrina’s voice startles you, and you look to find her not even looking at you, gazing off to some point on the wall. Had she meant to say that out loud? The two of you finish up cleaning, although it is mostly you doing the work, Kaltrina’s gaze is lost somewhere on your kitchen wall. You quickly escort her out, wishing her a good night. You offer to walk her home, but she declines, saying she’ll be fine on her own. 

You close the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Azriel was in your room - your room - the one with the unmade bed, clothes haphazard around the space. You two used to frequent each other’s private chambers, but now you can’t recall the last time he laid in your bed, perused the books on your shelves, or sat in the chair in the corner of your room at the House of Wind.

You push open the door to find him pacing in front of your bed, his shadows lounging lazily on your bed. You nod to him, picking at your fingernails.

“I think it’s Kaltrina. I think she’s the one doing this.”

“Kaltrina?” His voice is full of surprise and misunderstanding. “You think Kaltrina, that little thing is behind all of this?”

“Yes! I just.. Don’t know why.. The way she talks about you…”

“We can’t go off of silly little feelings when convicting someone of a crime, you know.” He stands in front of you, his wings blocking the light from the candles, casting shadows across his face.

“I’m well aware-”

“You have to think - where would she keep them? How could she overpower so many Illyrian women? And besides, why does it matter what she thinks of me?”

Your anger was bubbling to the surface, his condescending tone leading you to yell out, “what the fuck is your problem, Azriel?”

He looks at you, turning away quickly while muttering, “we are not doing this here.” His shadows are ever so slightly trying to push him back towards you, but he ignores their attempts, plowing through them to your kitchen.

“No, I think we are doing this right here, right now. I’ve let too much shit go by and I can’t keep acting like everything’s okay anymore.” You take in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending. Just tell me whatever it was that I did that made you hate me and we can move on!”

“No.”

His curt reply annoys you even more, and you’re directly in front of him poking his chest.

“Just tell me what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s clearly not the case.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand down his face, but you are unrelenting in your pursuit for the truth.

“We were friends, you used to like spending time with me. I don’t know what happened that made you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you.”

You laugh, “well you could have fooled me. For months everyone’s been asking me what happened between us, and I have no clue! It’s like you woke up one day and decided we couldn’t be friends anymore!”

“That’s not what happened-”

“Oh, it’s not? So you were pretending to be my friend while you secretly hated me before cutting me off one day?”

“I HAD TO.”

His eyes were wide with an almost feral-like look to them. He looked almost more beast than fae.

“I had to. Those fae that were trafficking females and males, they… “ His hand shakes as he curls and uncurls it, his scarred fingers twitching with the motion. “One of my spies found your name in one of their notebooks, reported it to me immediately.”

His ferocity is turned on you, hazel eyes looking into your own, as if he was searching through your soul. “Don’t you get it? They know you, they know who you are.” His voice raised an octave, squeaking, “because of me.”

“So, what? Because someone knew that I was important to you, you cut me off?”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Oh, no, was it that someone pointed out to you that I was important to you and you didn’t like that?” Your voice was raising, getting louder, but you couldn’t care. 

“That’s not-“

“I’m a big girl, Az, I deserve to know everything before making decisions. I don’t deserve my decisions to be taken from me.”

“Will you let me speak?”

His shadows were covering the windows, the doors, the walls. His chest was heaving as he tried to get the words out, tried to make you see.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“So instead of explaining this to me, you cut me off like I meant nothing to you? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? Why couldn’t you tell me-”

“You would talk me out of it! Convince me it was in my head. I needed you to be safe, for cauldron’s sake!”

You sniffle, eyes catching on the door. “I have a lot to think about,” is all you say before storming out, closing the door behind you. You walk from the house, your boots sinking into the grass at your feet as you walk aimlessly around the village. Your thoughts whirled and swirled of Azriel’s words, your hands pulling at your hair in frustration.

“Hey, there.”

You whip around, fist raised, to find Dardan looking back at you. You quickly drop your fist - he could still tell the others you showed defiance towards him and you’d be in a lot of trouble. 

“Oh, hey, Dardan, right? I must not have heard you. How are you tonight?”

You try to make your voice sound as pleasant as possible, as feminine as possible. 

“Just taking an afternoon stroll,” he muses, “care to join me?”

You look around, noticing you’re much further from the village than you intended. Even though you were a married female to the rest of the village, it was still disrespectful towards your husband to be seen on the outskirts of town with an unmarried male. 

“Um,” you start turning around, your gut trying to tell you this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “Actually, I should get back to my husband. I need to start working on dinner soon.”

You turned your head just in time for something hard and metal to make contact with it, the last thing in your vision was the ground before complete darkness.

-

Your head was killing you, your neck at an unnatural angle as you opened your eyes. The room was dark, but still too bright for the pounding of your head. You take a deep breath, trying to note your surroundings. 

Your hands were bound behind you, some fabric you should be able to easily pull apart. You were on the ground, some dirt beneath your body as you laid on the cold ground. You began tugging on the fabric, trying to maneuver your hands to slip through the knot.

“Tug all you want, we got a talented witch in these parts.”

Your body goes cold at the voice.

Dardan.

Fuck.

You want to slam your head on something, but there’s nothing. Your breathing speeds up, your mind moving through all your interactions with Dardan.

You thought he was nice. He had been amicable to you at the war camp, you barely even thought of him during this mission. You thought it was Kaltrina. How could you have gotten things so wrong? 

He smiles as he watches your brain try to figure things out. His smugness was a new look for Lee - one that made him look very unattractive. “We knew one of Rhysand’s dogs was bound to show up at some point, just didn’t think they’d bring a pretty bitch like you with ‘em. Color me surprised when my little sister brought you around.”

You snap at his words, “bitches bite.”

He goes by to sharpen whatever knife he was wielding before replying. “We got big plans.”

Dardan wouldn’t say more than that, continuing to sharpen his blade before inspecting it. Once it was to his satisfaction, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you from the ground. You scramble, trying to get your feet on the ground, kicking at the dirt he was dragging you across to gain some footing. His pull on your hair was unrelenting, even as your arms flailed back trying to hit him.

Eventually you’re able to get your feet beneath you, trying to keep up with his steps. He opens the doors to the structure you were kept in, the light of dusk surprising you. There was no way to tell time in that barn.

“It’s almost sunset, girl.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, trying to take a big inhale so you can scream. The sound was piercing - a loud screech coming from you. Dardan just laughed. “Screech all you want, no one’s around for miles.”

Rhys’s words echo in your mind.

Stay close to Azriel.

A warning you had forgotten when you stormed off. Dardan’s tight grip brings you towards a clearing full of other Illyrians from the village you had been staying in and several of the nearby villages. You’re about to call, to beg them for help, when you notice six of the males are each dragging a female in some way towards the center of the clearing. You can’t see over the wings and heads in front of you, but the crowd parts for your eyes to land on a stone altar with ancient languages carved into it.

The crowd gave enough space for the six Illyrians to stand in a circle around the altar, each one cradling a woman by their neck with a blade pressed to it. You start fighting back against Dardan, trying to scratch him, hit him, but he throws you towards the altar where two winged males stand, catching you in their arms easily. You throw out your hand, making contact with one of their jaws, a soft “bitch” hissed at you. 

You throw your bound hands into the other one’s gut, but the first one grabs your elbow, twisting harshly. You struggle in the hold, winding your head back to headbutt him, but the other one grabs your head, holding it in place. You start kicking your legs out, hoping for any kind of contact, but a male from the crowd comes up and catches your ankles. 

The three males hold onto you, moving you on top of the altar. Your movements do nothing to stop them as they clamp down your feet, moving towards your hands, shackling them to the altar as well. Your pleas to be let go fell on deaf ears.

You turn your head to the left, two of the females coming into your view. Their wings twitched as their captors held them, not much fight in them. You yell to them, begging for them to fight back against the males at their backs. Tears stream down the side of your face, leaking into your ears as you watch their complacency, what they’ve been conditioned for. 

Nausea rolled in your stomach at the idea of how long they’ve been aware of this fate. These girls have been missing for weeks and months of their lives, kept Mother knows where to beat them into compliance. 

They stood at attention, knives to their throats, unmoving. 

Your eyes water seeing Kaltrina amongst them, her eyes downcast.

It was sickening.

Dardan comes from the crowd, looking down at you over the crook of his nose. He raises a knife to your throat, your skin nicking on the blade as your breathing quickened. 

“Any last words?”

You look up at Dardan, mustering every ounce of defiance onto your face as you pull back, spitting into his smug face. His face falls for a moment before wiping the saliva off. Dardan looks towards the sky, “just a moment until sundown. If only your pretty little shadowsinger could be here now, to watch you become the ultimate sacrifice.”

Breathing gets harder as the seconds tick by, knowing the sun will set at any second. You felt a cool breeze blow over you. 

Not a breeze.

A shadow.

“Get your fucking hands off of my mate.”

Your heart stops in your chest, something sparking deep within you at Azriel’s growl of warning in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Dardan’s knife is still pressed to your neck, but you’re able to move your eyes enough to see wisps of shadow pulling the knives away from the necks of the other females in the circle. 

You tilt your head back, barely able to make out Azriel standing behind Dardan, his shadows angrily darting all around him. Several more of them make their way to you, almost cloaking you in the scent of their master.

Dardan’s arrogance doesn’t balk at the sight of Azriel, his grip on the knife tightening. 

“You can drop the ‘mate’ act, freak,” Dardan spat out, his words causing the shadows to whirl in agitation. “We need her-”

In a flash the shadows coating you slithered up your torso, slithering around the wrist that held the blade. They pulled the wrist away, the knife narrowly avoiding slicing your throat. At the same time, Azriel moved for Dardan, his fist connecting with Dardan’s jaw causing a crack across the clearing. Dardan hit the ground, but Azriel dove after him, landing punch after punch.

In the chaos of the fight breaking out, the crowd was in hysterics, all of the males attempting to fly or flee, pools of shadows surfaced at their feet, tripping them up, their bodies slowly disappearing into the darkness. Some of them tried to crawl from the darkness, but to no avail. The crowd quickly went from about 30 males to just the six females left, all unharmed, huddling together for some form of protection.

Azriel was choking Dardan out, scarred fingers forcing the breath from Dardan’s lungs. “I will enjoy taking my time with you.” Azriel’s words hung in the air as Dardan slowly slipped into the shadows underneath him, but Azriel remained on the grass. He quickly got to this feet, most of his shadows gone, likely to keep the Illyrian prisoners in check.

He stumbles over to you, quickly undoing your binds before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you from the altar.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” are all he says, his words repeating as you feel tears fall onto your shirt. You gripped him just as tightly, finding it easier to breathe in his presence for the first time in ages. 

“I can’t live in fear anymore.”

He lunged for you, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s rushed, full of fear and trepidation. 

But by the cauldron was it warm and full of life. 

He pulled back, wiping spit from his mouth, his fingers covered in blood pushing the hair out of your face. “When I heard that your name was on one of those books, the bond snapped for me. I flew in a rage, killing all those traffickers. But I knew there were more like them out there.”

His eyes were full of regret, “I should have told you, but I thought you’d be safer not knowing. Then I figured this mission was my last time to actually have you, to play pretend.”

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it, pulling him in closer to you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling that deep smell of cedar that you adored more than anything. It felt like coming home.

“I’m still pissed at you for not telling me.”

He chuckles, a deep, warm sound you haven’t truly heard in ages, “can I make it up to you? I won’t keep secrets from you ever again.”

He holds your face in his hands, his own eyes wet with tears. One of his hands pulls away, his tan skin radiant in the moonlight. You bring up your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You keep your eyes on his, “no more secrets. From either of us.”

He nods, a bargain tattoo beginning to snake its way on your skin. 

“No more running.”

The tattoo wove its way on your skin, dark tendrils solidifying where your forearms meet. When you pull your hand away, the tattoo is incomplete, missing the gaps where Azriel’s arm belongs.

Much like a one-sided duet, your tattoos look empty without the other there to complete the song that echoed in your chest, the song that hummed at the sight of him. The bond didn’t feel so much like a snap as a slow sinking, as if you had finally opened your eyes after so long. 

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you had a lot to figure out - the females, what to do with the strange occult Illyrians, but the two of you could do it.

He promised - no more running.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

[baronessvonglitter]

My favorite things I've read this month! Please be mindful of the tags before you read 💚 Show the authors some love by reblogging and commenting 🌟I love all of you and your creativity so much!!

dividers by @enchanthings-a 👑

Frankie Morales

Bon Appetit by @everybodylovedcontractors ~ Francisco "Catfish" "Frankie" Morales and F!reader

Heaven Can Wait by @theewokingdead ~ Francisco “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader

Neighborhood Watch by @joelalorian ~ neighbor!frankie x f!reader

Sizzlin' by @sunshinehaze1 ~ Frankie x f!reader

Strawberry Shortcake by @604to647 ~ Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Max Phillips

The Prettiest by @almostfoxglove ~ Max P x f!Reader (further chapters found on AO3)

Tim Rockford

confessions by @wildemaven ~ tim x f!reader

The Rockford Portfolio by @604to647 ~ Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Pero Tovar

Ambrosia by @sawymredfox ~ Pero x fem! able-bodied reader

Memories made, memories lost by @avastrasposts ~ Mercenary!Pero x female reader

Dave York

Affliction by @lavenderursa ~ Dave York x DIA Op!Reader

Hotel Ties by @honestly-shite ~ Dave x f!reader

Keystrokes by @mothandpidgeon ~ dave york x hacker!f!reader

Sedated by @luxurychristmaspudding ~ dave x f!contract killer!reader

Still by @sizzlingcloudmentality ~ Dave x f!reader

Under False Pretenses - Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 ~ Stepdad!Dave x f!reader

Joel Miller

game changer by @kedsandtubesocks ~ MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

game changer - timeout by @kedsandtubesocks ~ MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Hungry-Man Ch. 1 by @slimybeth69

I want to smell like you by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Father in law!Joel x f!reader

Like a Boy Does by @magpiepills ~ Tess Servopoulos x f! Reader x Joel Miller

Like a Stuffed Whore by @pedge-page ~ Joel Miller x StuffedAnimal!Reader x unnamed stepdaughter

Mine by @secretelephanttattoo ~ Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

The one that got away by @stylesispunk ~ outbreak!joel x f!reader

The Other Woman by @evolnoomym ~ Joel Miller x F!OC Moon

The Prophecy by @schnarfer ~ Knights & Kings AU Joel Miller x f!reader

this is me trying by @majestyeverlasting ~ joel miller x female reader

Wherever You Go by @myownwholewildworld ~ outbreak!joel x f!reader

Javier Peña

Booty Call by @cxrsed-angel ~ Javier x Fem! Reader

The Condom by @toxicanonymity ~ Javi P x f!reader x Steve Murphy

Forehead Kiss by @greenwitchfromthewoods

Javi's Playground by @mermaidgirl30 ~ Javier Peña x fem! reader

Jealousy, Jealousy by @javierpena-inatacvest Javier x f!reader

Love me like a loaded gun by @joelmillerisapunk ~ fuckbuddy!Javier x f!reader

Marrying Javi by @milla-frenchy

Playgirl by @milla-frenchy ~ Javier x fem reader

Rotten luck by @milla-frenchy ~ Javier Peña x fem reader

Marcus Acacius

first fruit since winter by @cuppajoel ~ modern!acacius x reader

run by @almostempty ~ marcus acacius x f!reader

When in Ancient Rome by @cuppajoel ~ modern-day! Marcus Acacius x fem!reader

Clint

Hold My Hand by @aurorawritestoescape ~ Clint x f!reader

sweet surrender by @joelmillerisapunk ~ Clint x f!reader

Din Djarin

Healing Pains by @liltangerineart ~ din djarin x bounty hunter!femreader

The Only Time We Have by @nerdieforpedro ~ Din Djarin x Poe Dameron

Marcus Moreno

A Hero's Blessing by @joelalorian ~ marcus moreno x f!reader

Nobody's Gonna Know by @604to647 ~ Marcus Moreno x gn!reader

Multi

To Catch a Thief by @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist ~ Featuring one Detective Tim Rockford and a certain thief

Self Recs

the best part of waking up... ~ any Pedro character x f!reader

Keep On Loving You ~ Frankie Morales x f!reader

Strawberry Swirl ~ Joel Miller x fem!reader

Just a Ride ~ dbf!Dave York x f!Reader

[imaginedreamwrite]

For second choice Sunday maybe something where reader keeps going back to someone even though she or they know it’s not real/is a situationship sort of thing. Then something with Ghost, or Johnny, or both even? (I’ve never submitted an ask to you before, especially for a day theme so not sure if this is right or if your still accepting requests, please ignore me if not)

No worries, this request is perfect!

Admittedly, you find the dim lighting of this bar just outside the base comforting. In some twisted way or another, you feel like you can shield yourself from the disappointment. The slow burning sting of seeing the man you’d been sleeping with, getting back together with his ex-fiancée drove you here.

The less than crowded bar with cheap spirits and the invisible yet probable presence of rat in the basement felt oddly suitable to your pity. Second best would have been your monicker if you had to carry a visible sign to your emotional presence above your head.

Second best—good enough to sleep with but not enough to date.

Good enough to be a lay but not good enough to be a girlfriend.

You raised the glass to your mouth, the rim brushing against your bottom lip. The cool alcohol had just grazed your skin when the shadow of a man had passed beside you. You hesitated, holding the rim to your lips while he took the seat to your left, and another man took the seat to your right.

“Can’t tell me you actually like that shite?” His elbow props against the bar top, and a quick glance at him gives you few details that you cement into your mind.

Blue eyes with flecks of green, Mohawk hairstyle with a five o’clock shadow, and a devilish half-grin.

“It’s cheap,” you don’t immediately curse him out like you probably should have, but maybe that was your emotional low speaking.

“It’s no better than piss,” the man on your right spoke, leaning in only to grab a menu from the bar top before he slid it toward you, “no one drinks this shite unless they want to forget something.”

The man on your right wore a balaclava, one that had only shown his eyes. A set of blue eyes that lazily looked you over, and though you couldn’t see his lips you imagined he was smirking.

“Or someone.” Mohawk man on your left picked up where the man on your right ended.

You looked straight ahead, your hand tightening on the glass. You were silent for a moment. Wondering what madness must have possessed you for even thinking about talking about the looming shadow above you.

And yet—

“A little bit of both,” you tip the glass of cheap beer back and down it as quickly as possible, the bottom hitting the surface with more force than you intended, “think the cheap beer will do?”

“Dinnae what you’re trying to forget,” Mohawk raised his hand and a bartender approached, already setting a glass down in front of him, “but leave the cheap shite alone.”

The glass in front of you was moved, replaced with another.

“How often must you come here for the bartender to already know what you want?” You lift the new glass and take a look at its contents, a darker and richer ale.

“We all shite we wanna forget.” The masked man spoke, leaning forward with his elbows on the counter. “Might as well drink the good stuff.”

“I was in a…situationship with someone who…” you paused, your mind raced and instead of immediately finishing your sentence, you lifted the glass and chugged.

“…decided to warm some other woman’s bed?” Mask to your right posed the question, as if he had already known.

“I’m good enough to fuck but not good enough to date.” You laughed bitterly, fingernails tapping rhythmically against the edge of the glass.

“Bastard.” Mohawk had angled himself toward you, his blue eyes sweeping over you. “You’re gorgeous, bon.”

His compliment didn’t come across as forced, it didn’t fill you with false promise.

No, his compliment was spoken with so much truth, it actually threw you off. You stared at this Scottish stranger with confusion and surprise, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Fuckers don’t know what they got when they have it.” The masked man on the right had leaned in, his shoulder brushing against you. “Ya don’t have to drink alone.”

“Don’t ‘ave to go home alone either, lass.” The Scot winked at you, another genuine offer.

The glass in your hands seemed to be forgotten, just as the ache in your chest was lessened. By two strangers who had bought you a drink, by two strangers who had been more genuine than the asshole you were sleeping with.

You looked straight ahead again, debating once more what to do. Or not do.

Second best—not good enough to date

No, he was the problem. Not you.

“No pressure lass, thought you’d wanna forget-” the Scot seemed to back pedal, seemed to retract from the offer.

“I do.” You downed the rest of your beer, wiping any residual drops with the back of your hand, and then you stood. “Need to forget. I don’t want to remember any of it.”

If one couldn’t make you forget, the other sure as hell would.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

Elica Le Bon الیکا‌ ل بن: "Last night in Gaza: child soldiers were seen firing guns in the air with cries of “allahu akbar” from the crowds.

These disturbing scenes are regrettably all too common under the Islamic regime in Iran, Hezbollah in Lebanon, Houthis in Yemen, ISIS, etc. Why? Because the young mind is more susceptible than the fully formed adult brain, and this is the optimal stage for recruiting lifelong jihadists.

“But if you orphan Middle Eastern children, they will grow up to be terrorists!”

Stop it. Nobody is more racist than those who assume ME children are born terrorists, waiting for a trigger. Would you say that about orphaned American children? Would you say, “such a shame they lost their parents, they’ll no doubt grow up to be terrorists now.”

Of course not, because it’s both ignorant and false.

What creates terrorists out of children is jihadist child exploitation rings like this, that brainwash children to sacrifice their lives in service of a death cult and convince them this is the only way to find meaning.

In any other context that adults groomed young children to kill themselves to do the groomer’s bidding, you’d call it child abuse. When jihadists do it, you call it “liberation.”

If western far-leftists weren’t so blinded by their racism masked as “cultural relativism,” they’d stand in solidarity with, not against, our children.''

[sonseulsoleil]

I just love the choice Alice made to move up the dinner with Stéphane. When I first heard about it, I was apprehensive, because that moment is really the culmination of Nick’s arc of self discovery and acceptance, and I thought moving it up would feel rushed. But I was so wrong.

By focusing so much of season 2 on Nick’s journey, on his strained relationship with his father, on how hard it is to come out, Alice allowed for a subtle but very important shift in Nick & Charlie’s dynamic. In volume 3 of the comic, a lot more focus is put on Charlie’s mental health much sooner. The conversation about self harm happens right at the start of the volume. Which creates a—very false—perception among some readers that Nick is always taking care of Charlie. That he’s the strong one.

But by moving that scene back, and the scenes with Nick’s dad up, we get the opposite impression. Nick has spent most of the season leaning on Charlie, and Charlie has spent most of the season trying to support and protect him, sometimes to his own detriment. We get to see Charlie shouting at Harry, comforting Nick after the bon fire, holding Nick’s hand when he meets up with Stéphane in Paris, being ready for a hug after Nick comes out during Tara's party.

All this leads to Nick saying: I've done so many things that were scary in the past few months because you were there, holding my hand. And I wanna be that for you too.

Now, when season 3 inevitably focuses on Charlie’s mental health, it will almost be like Nick is returning the favor. It’s his turn to take care of and support Charlie. Their relationship was always equal, but I think this writing choice really highlights the give-and-take they have, and how they both support each other.

[whateverwhimsy]

The Albums That Changed Me

So, I decided to see if I could make a list of all of the most important albums in my life. The idea here was not to list every single one of my favourite records, nor to list the ones I think are the very best. Rather, these are the ones that made the biggest impact on me when I encountered them, the ones that changed my life in some way.

I would not be the person I am today without them.

Enjoy!

Our Lady Peace - Clumsy MxPx - Life in General Slick Shoes - Rusty Blink 182 - Dude Ranch Goo Goo Dolls - Dizzy Up the Girl Incubus - Morning View Mae - Destination: Beautiful Dashboard Confessional - The Places You Have Come to Fear The Most Rufio - Perhaps, I Suppose… Further Seems Forever - The Moon Is Down Saosin - Translating The Name Sunny Day Real Estate - LP2 Alexisonfire Taking Back Sunday - Tell All Your Friends Hopesfall - The Satellite Years Name Taken - Hold On Copeland - Beneath Medicine Tree Number One Fan - Compromises Elliott - False Cathedrals Pretty Girls Make Graves - The New Romance Jimmy Eat World - Clarity Underoath - They're Only Chasing Safety Spitalfield - Remember Right Now Northstar - Pollyanna Broken Social Scene - You Forgot It In People Rush - 2112 Coheed and Cambria - In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth III AFI - Sing The Sorrow Circa Survive - Juturna Sparta - Wiretap Scars Boston Moneen - The Red Tree This Day and Age - Always Leave The Ground Emily Haines - Knives Don't Have Your Back Arcade Fire - Neon Bible Death Cab For Cutie - Transatlanticism At The Drive-In - Vaya EP The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour The Smashing Pumpkins - Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness Elbow - Cast of Thousands The Postal Service - Give Up Kings of Leon - Because of The Times Anberlin - Cities The Cure - Disintegration Radiohead - Kid A Silversun Pickups - Carnavas Wintersleep - Welcome to The Night Sky Cassino - Sounds of Salvation Stars - In Our Bedroom After The War Tegan & Sara - The Con Tool - Lateralus The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium Interpol - Antics Brand New - The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me M83 - Saturdays = Youth Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago Local Natives - Gorilla Manor 1997 - A Better View of The Rising Moon Dave Matthews Band - Busted Stuff Elliott Smith - Either/Or Youth Lagoon - Year of Hibernation Relient K - Forget and Not Slow Down Carly Rae Jepsen - EMOTION Side B The Arkells - Michigan Left The National - High Violet The Tragically Hip - In Violet Light Fleetwood Mac - Rumours Counting Crows - This Desert Life The Pains of Being Pure at Heart - Days of Abandon TTNG - Animals The Antlers - Hospice The 1975 Taylor Swift - Midnights Lydia - Illuminate Chastity - Home Made Satan Noah Kahan - Stick Season (Forever)

-TP

[goosewriting]

I have an inq!cal thought!

Reader and cal both having a crush on the other when they were both on the mantis and just when they finally admit it to the other and get together something happens and cal is presumed to be dead but actually he’s been captured by the empire and turned into an inquisitor and then during a mission reader is on she runs into cal 👀

And like it could be a good ending OR Cal’s conditioning wins and he kisses reader as he runs them through after reader says they can’t fight him and like uh I am very partial to the angst ending

The Bad Ending

summary: years after thinking Cal is dead, reader meets him again as an Inquisitor. 

relationship: inquisitor!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: mention of character death, also actual character death (ahem, you, ahem), yummy angst

word count: 3k

A/N: i too, am very partial to the angst ending so, bon appetit 😌 no but seriously this has been sitting in my wips for FAR too long, i really loved this idea so i hope i made it justice! thank you sm for requesting and the patience dearest anon<3

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Somewhere in the Outer Rim, it’s early dawn on a small, often overlooked planet. The first rays of sun hit your face as you’re helping a fellow resistance fighter in loading a truck with some supplies, and it makes you squint. You stop your motions to block the light with your hand held to your forehead, and for a split second, you see a head of red hair in the corner of your eye. Your body reacts on its own, immediately turning and craning your neck to find him. But it’s a false alarm, obviously. The ginger human gives you a weird look as you’re staring, then shrugs their shoulders and keeps walking. 

Heaving a sigh, you load the last of the crates, shaking your head at yourself in embarrassment. It’s already been years since you last saw him. Since you saw any of them. The crew of the Stinger Mantis.

You can’t help the small smile on your face when you think back to everything that you went through together. All the adventures, the missions…the sneaking out. Stolen glances here and there, lingering touches that may have meant something more, making the most of every moment because you knew it could be the last. Except that you didn’t actually believe that. All of you knew how risky the missions were, aware of the dangers that seemed to loom around every corner. But you hoped to, wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. None of you was invincible, you knew that. But to think that he would just be… gone. It still stings. 

When retrieving the Holocron on Bogano, the Second Sister confronted Cal in the vault, except that you never saw him come out. By then, the Stormtroopers had overrun the place, so you had to leave. But you came back, multiple times, searching for him. Every time unsuccessful. 

At some point, you came to terms with the fact that she had probably killed him in the vault, a place you couldn’t access as you’re not Force sensitive. The thought of Cal being in there, bleeding out, alone, BD probably also dismantled by the Imperials… The thought makes you shiver to this day.

Losing Cal took a toll on everyone, and it didn’t take long for the Mantis crew to split up after that. Cere took it particularly badly, blaming herself for the failures, both with Trilla and Cal. Ever since then, you’ve never seen or heard of either Cere or Greez again. So you were on your own. 

You’ve been lying low, helping out more from behind the scenes instead of getting into the action like back then. But you can’t deny the fact that you miss Cal every single day. Despite knowing that you’ll never see him again, you can’t help but wonder “what if”. Back then, you two had something going on. You were actually planning on confessing to him after you safely got off Bogano with the Holocron. But those plans were cut short by one very grumpy Inquisitor. You still regret not having told him sooner, as you were fairly certain he felt the same way. To this day, you still dream with Cal at night, picturing what life would be like if he was there with you.

Shaking your head to focus on the task at hand, you look down at the fruit you’ve been holding in your hand. You were so lost in thought, you didn’t even notice that the loaded truck was long gone, and your feet brought you to the city market. The vendor at the stall you’re standing at looks at you suspiciously, so you shoot them a quick smile and put the fruit back into the basket, then stroll to the next stand.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you force yourself to shove the painful memories aside to make room for a mental plan. The rebellion is growing every day, and that means the amount of mouths to feed is increasing as well, so you’re to get provisions at the market. Other supplies like tools and machinery parts were sent off just earlier. The food you’d bring yourself to a hidden spot where your contact told you they’d pick it up. You just have to find a way to smuggle it all out of there unseen by the imperial troops, who walk around the place in regular patrols.

You actually have your suspicions that your contact is either a Jedi themselves, or someone who’s working closely with one, as there’s been rumours here and there about someone with mystic powers having arrived in the village. No matter if they’re true or not, you really hope the rumours will settle down quickly, as it will undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.

After you’re done with your shopping spree, you look at your haul, which occupies several large crates. You grimace slightly, as it’s more than you anticipated. Maybe you can ask that one farmer who owes you a favour if you can borrow his cart, since you can’t carry all of this on your speeder. Getting your holopad out of your satchel, you double-check the drop-off place, and conclude that hiding the crates there will be quick work. The problem is the cart itself; hopefully with enough hay you’ll be able to cover them all to go by unnoticed. 

So that’s exactly what you do. The farmer is more than happy to help, and you feel a little bad knowing that you’re about to leave his cart at the pick-up spot, then tell him that there was an accident and it broke down, getting swept away by the river which conveniently ends in a waterfall not far away. You’ll pay him for the cart of course, but even so… you’re essentially lying to his face. While in this case, the end does justify the means, this part of the job still doesn’t get any easier for you. 

It’s the same afternoon when you’re loading up the cart. The animal pulling it is tame and knows you, so you bring some extra treats for her. Once you’re done putting on the harness and hiding your crates, you head out. It’s a sunny day, and except for the occasional bleating, the clicking of your tongue and the clinking of the reins, there's not much else. 

The air is calm, and you allow yourself to hum a little tune to yourself. As you arrive at a narrow passage between two walls of stone that leads into the valley, the path turns a sharp corner and you can’t really see ahead. Only once you fully turn are you able to take in the image before you, and your blood runs cold in your veins. Not far in front of you, there’s a shuttle parked on the road, blocking your way, and half a dozen Stormtroopers stand with their loaded weapons. You pull on the reins, wanting to turn her around, but as you look behind you, you see more troopers blocking the other way as well.

You bring the cart to a halt instead and turn back to the front, reaching for the blaster under your seat, when from behind the shuttle you see two dark figures appear: an Inquisitor, followed by a Purge Trooper. The latter approaches you in quick strides, pointing one of the two electrobatons at you.

“Get down,” comes his modulated but demanding voice through the helmet.

You hesitate for a second, unsure of what to do. Biting the inside of your cheek, you quickly analyse the situation, concluding that while you certainly can't take on all troopers alone, let alone an Inquisitor, maybe you can make a run for it towards the thicker vegetation. You just have to make it back past the narrow passage you just came from.

“I said get down!” the Purge Trooper barks, clearly annoyed. 

“Alright, alright,” you finally respond.

You motion to stand up, as if you’re pushing yourself off your seat with your hands, but instead get your rifle from underneath and, from your elevated position, you shoot the trooper right between the shoulder and chest plates of is armour. 

He falls down to the ground with a groan, and you jump off the wagon, making a run for it. You know your rifle can penetrate the normal Stormtrooper armour, so you shoot the ones that had appeared behind you, hitting each one twice, and push past them.

You don’t look back despite hearing the other troopers closing in on you, and you duck as they shoot at you. But you know their aim is not the best, so you keep going, your lungs burning at the sudden effort. You’re just passing the treeline when something knocks you over; you seem to trip over air as you fall face first to the ground, hard. You barely manage to let go of your rifle to brace yourself, and you roll a couple of times from the speed you were coming at.

Everything spins for a moment, and you reach out to grab your weapon and keep going, but an invisible force keeps you pinned to the ground on your back. You groan in frustration and confusion, looking up to see the troopers now gathered around you aiming their blasters at you, yet not firing. They all take a step back to let the Inquisitor walk through, and you give them the best glare you can muster.

The red visor glistens, the sun reflecting on it, as they tilt their head to the side while looking at you. Then comes the modulated voice, calling your name. Not just your name, but your nickname, the one only one person ever used for you. One that you were certain you’d never hear again.

You let out a shuddering breath as you watch in horror how the Inquisitor takes off the helmet, dislodging it with a hiss, to reveal the face underneath. 

“So we meet again, after all these years,” Cal says, running his free hand through his hair, looking down at you with a sour face. “After you left me for dead.”

Your mind is reeling, unable to comprehend the situation.

“I- You-” you stumble over your words. “We didn’t leave you. We thought you were dead. We looked for you!”

He gives you a half-hearted chuckle.

“Not well enough, it seems…” he retorts. “Yeah, well, the crew never was much anyway. I work better, alone, after all.”

“You know that’s not true”, you say in a small voice, your body finally catching up to the situation, starting to shiver.

He extends his hand towards you, and you find yourself being lifted off the ground and to your feet, but slowly pushed backwards into the forest.

“Leave us,” he orders without breaking eye contact with you, and the troopers obey, putting some distance between you and them. For every step Cal walks towards you, you take one back, and after a few moments you’re surrounded by vegetation, out of sight and earshot from the others. Only then does he let go of you, and you stand there for a second, looking at each other. 

Then the quiet tension becomes almost unbearable. There's so much you want to tell him, ask him. What happened in the vault? Did he ever come looking for you? Even if you never got to tell him yourself, does he know how you felt about him?

“I don’t know if it means anything to you anymore,” you finally break the silence. “But I missed you.”

He doesn’t answer, instead continuing to look at you with this unreadable, almost bored expression.

“Are you going to kill me?” you decide to ask instead, fearing the answer. 

“If you stand in my way, I might have to,” he replies, and your heart drops. “You’re not my target, though.”

“Then who is?” Your gaze falls to the ground.

“There’s been reports of a Jedi in the village,” Cal says, taking a careful step towards you. Your eyes snap back up to his, stopping him in his tracks.

“So that’s what you do now? Hunt Jedis?” You don’t try to hide the hurt in your voice.

He merely raises a brow at you, as if the answer to that is obvious. It is. 

“And you're okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were a Jedi once, too.”

“Technically, I never got knighted, so no,” he retorts with a hint of a sadistic smile.

You scoff.

“But Cere would have done it sooner or later, I’m sure…”

At the mention of the name, Cal frowns.

“Yet she didn’t,” he states coldly. He looks up into the trees with a deep breath, then picks some imaginary lint off his uniform, his face relaxing back into the nothingness from before. His eyes snap back up to meet yours as he stands still. “And she won’t.”

“W-what do you mean by that,” you ask, horrified. “Is she…”

Again, he doesn’t answer.

“D-did you…”

You see his jaw tense up, and your body runs cold, colder.

“Cal, what have you done,” you breathe, barely audible, and bring your hands up to hide your face. You can feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes, and you try your best to hold them back.

“I only did what must be done,” he answers matter-of-factly, then takes a step towards you, but you take a quick one back. He stops again. “So what were you planning on doing, exactly? Run away?”

You shift uncomfortably.

“I would have found you either way, just like I did now.”

“I thought I wasn’t your target,” you retort. 

“And you aren’t,” he assures you. “But after finding out you’re here, I just wanted… to see you.”

“Why,” you mutter, not really meant as a question. “After all this time. Not like this.”

He takes another slow step towards you, and this time you don't have it in you to back away. Your tears are running freely now, rolling down your cheeks as you hold back a sob. Now standing right in front of you, Cal lets go of his helmet, which falls onto the grass with a soft thud. His gloved hands come up to cup your face, his thumb swiping away a tear over your cheekbone.

“I missed you,” he says in a small voice that doesn’t really fit with his current image.

“And I missed you,” you choke out, placing your hands over his. “So, so much.”

You look into his eyes, now a fiery yellow, and the sight is so unfamiliar, so cold, that you can’t hold his gaze for long, and it falls back down, but you don’t want to look at his black armour either, so you look to the side instead. Your hands still hold his in place, though.

“I really thought you were dead, Cal, but this…” you manage to say after taking several shaky breaths. “An Inquisitor… This is no way to live. It’s not you. We can escape together. Start over. Whatever they did to you, we’ll undo it layer by layer. Please.”

“I’m afraid that's not possible,” he says, dropping one hand while the other moves from your cheek to your chin, making you look at him, and he studies your face for a moment. “But I can’t let you go either. You're working with the resistance fighters, aren't you.”

“I- I’m continuing where we left off, just in a different way.”

“So you are working with the Jedi, and as such against the Empire.”

His hand goes to the back of your neck, holding you in place, and a strange panic starts to settle in your limbs as you realise you can’t move away from his hold. Cal is so close now that you can feel his breath fanning over your cheek.

“If I let you go, will you shoot me?” he asks in a low voice.

You want to scoff, but it’s more of a teary-eyed huff.

“I could never, Cal. I- I loved you,” you tilt up your face to properly look him in the eyes. “I never stopped loving you. I still do.”

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, his brows furrowing, then scrunching upwards in the middle, as if he just remembered something painful.

“So do I,” he whispers. 

You let out a sob, broken-hearted. All this time. All this time and he felt the same, was alive. But now he’s… an Inquisitor. A killing machine, fed by his own pain and anger, a tool used by the Empire to eradicate any remaining traces of hopefulness that people still might harbour.

“I can’t fight you,” he finally says.

“Neither can I,” you assure him.

Then he leans in, kissing you hard, and your mind is reeling. He holds you in place with the hand at your nape, your own coming up to hold his face. He kisses you like he’s making up for lost time, pouring his very being into it, and you reciprocate.

Somewhere in your mind, the metallic clink and the pressure against your side got registered, but with the kiss, it’s too much input to make sense of anything else. 

Cal breaks the kiss and pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, and you see a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“But I can’t let you go either,” he whispers against your lips, voice breaking, and before you can ask what he means, you not only hear his lightsabre igniting, you feel it. 

Your mouth opens in a silent scream. Within a split second, your upper body feels on fire, and a sharp, unbearable pain prevents you from breathing or thinking straight. You hear your own flesh sizzle as Cal retracts his weapon after running it through you. Even though your legs give in, he holds your full weight, embracing you, and slowly kneels down, bringing you down with him gently.

“C-Cal,” you gasp for air as your lungs burn quite literally, everything around you getting blurry.

“I’m sorry,” he says over and over, caressing your cheek softly as he kisses you again. 

With your last effort, your hand comes up to hold his, but it goes limp before it can do so, falling onto the ground. Cal cries into your shoulder, holding your limp body for a long time, until it turns cold.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket, @wildefire, @ghostkestis

[doughguts-art]

hii! I really your art and ocs and i was wondering, could you please tell us more about your elsen oc Bon? he looks so cutee!

Aw thank you!! Sure, I can give some info on Bon. First off, I co-own him with an offline friend, so he's technically not just my oc. And second, he was designed by the artist ThatLittleLarry (bsky - youtube) and is in his on-going OFF story/AU (FALSE), so if you don't know him, please check him out.

As for little character fun facts:

Bon is an incredibly energetic guy. Whether it be for better or worse, he throws his whole emotions into every situation.

He's from Zone 2. His job as an AirTaxi pilot has him shuttling elsens to and from the zone, so he also considers it his current home base.

He has an older brother named Dart! Bon loves his big bro, but Dart kind of takes him for granted.

He loves pastries, and he is especially obsessed with crepes. Bon loves crepes.

He is incapable of cursing, instead replacing bad words with stuff like "fiddlesticks", "cheese", and "flip". He is truly too pure for this world.

That's it for now, lol. If you have any more burning questions about Bon (or any of my characters) I’ll do my best to answer! Thanks so much for your interest.

[moonliched]

Hello! Just wanted to stop by and say i live your work! And appreciate everything you are doing for us as a creator! You are lovely and tbh you fic is my favourite one it's so well written, thought through and nice, I am rereading it now! And it gets better everytime! Can we get some more fun facts? 👉👈❤️🌸 If you are up to do it ofcourse!

Love you

Thank you !

Remember to drink water!!

asfjshdksjsh thank youuu, that's a massive compliment😖🩷 i'm happy you're enjoying, and i hope early 2025 is going amazing for you!!

fun facts under the cut✂️

🫧 Sun is better than Moon at manoeuvring on land because he has more practice

🫧 the mention of whalefall in chapter 16 is foreshadowing for chapter 17 >:3

🫧 Sun and Moon are aware that Y/N is a human. however they lack the frame of reference to really get the specifics of humanity. as the Glamrocks are humanoid in shape, Sun assumes they're human too! while Moon is only vaguely aware that Y/N doesn't count the Glamrocks as human

🫧 BON-BON is thinking of caving in and playing video games with Monty sometime

🫧 baby mermaids hatch from eggs! :D

🫧 Moon sees better in the dark than Sun, and his eyes take longer to adjust to light. Sun thrives in the heat and light, but he's more susceptible to getting chilly

🫧 Y/N is going to blow a lot more money on building BON-BON's body than they're letting on

🫧 Sun has a bunch of hobbies that he wants to show Y/N, and he's very hopeful that he can rope them into participating. however, the sleek designs of the facility and everything in it has him worried that their standards are higher and that they might look down on his handmade crafts (that's a false assumption btw, don't worry😋)

[biggestsimp12]

Hi could I request the toy animatronics interacting with a young child reader that gets left behind after closing?

{Hi! Sorry for the late response, I had some health problems lately and couldn't bring myself out of the laziness and fatigue to write. But I'm all better now and ready to write! So here it is! ^^}

.

.

.

---––——

Child Reader who gets left behind x toy animatronics! (+puppet)

---——–

---——-

You were simply a mere child, whose parents left you at a friend's birthday party in the famous Pretty smart to leave your child alone in a strangers supervision, right? Not. For some reason, your friends decided it was a good idea to play hide and seek, just before closing time. Of course, you found the most phenomenal spot to hide, which was behind puppets music box. It was rather naive of you, to think someone will actually search for there. That's why you hid there on the first place. Time flies by, yet slowly but surely, less and less voices could be heard around. It was rather strange, but you, the determined kid who loved to win on hide and seek remained curled up in a ball, dead silent with a small grin on your face, falsely believing that you will eventually get pinpointed by your friends and go home as the winner of hide and seek. Your grin quickly vanished off your face when the lights went out, leaving you baffled. As the night sky gets darker, you ducked out of your hiding spot and started looking around the now empty pizzeria, feeling alone and frightened. You were the only one left behind and locked in after all their friends had gone home. The sound of the animatronic characters' movements is unnerving and you feel vulnerable being alone in this place. You start to walk around the pizzeria, hoping to find a way out. Suddenly, the remaining lights go out and you are left in total darkness, the sound of the animatronics' movements echoing in the empty pizzeria. You curled up into a ball as you sat on the cold tiled floor, sobbing uncontrollably whilst shaking. Out of the blue, sounds of metallic steps could be made out, as if they were approaching you. An animatronic with a pair of glowing green eyes stepped past you, heading towards the rather noisy vent, as if it had abnormal ideas of whereabouts. Watching a little, you realised it was one of the toy animatronics, none other than Toy Bonnie. You hesitantly walked up to him, pulling on his artificial fluffy tail. The animatronics' head twisted in your direction, emanating some sounds as if it was scanning you.

"H-hello mr bon bon... Can you help me find my parents? My friends left me here alone.. Do you think they will come back?"

You wistfully stated, looking at the animatronic with those innocent pleading eyes. You weren't sure if he was going to hurt you or even understand you for that matter. Before anything could occur, a black slender palm was placed over your head, making you flinch slightly. Your gaze moved to the slender figure, which was the indistinguishable, Puppet. It's minimal glowing orbs were gazing over you, as if asking you to trust it. The puppet was one to always frighten you but for some reason, it just felt right to trust it right now, as no one else was currently there for you. It lightly scooped you in its long arms, carrying you to the other toy animatronics. Like magic, the animatronics turned on, all gazing towards you. The puppet kindly placed you down, leaving you to play with the toy animatronics. Toy chica brought you a real cupcake, feeding it to you while Toy freddy was singing to you and toy Bonnie was making rather silly poses for you. It only cheered you a little bit, though it was nicer than being alone, even though you could only see their glowing orbs. Just as your sobs died down, a sound of the security camera was heard and it's flashlight turned on, making you squint your eyes. Not even a second later, running footsteps were creeping out of the halls as a security guard rushed to you, freaking out to why was a literal child at almost 1 a.m in the freaking pizzeria?! After lots and lots of questioning, (and lots of unresponsive calls)

the security guard finally managed to contact your parents, which were very upset with your friends "responsibility" (as if theirs was any better)

Long story short, you were never ever going to a party without a capable family member ever again and that friends' parents weren't throwing poorly supervised parties anytime soon..

———––--

The end

{have a good day/night :)}

[bunlyn001]

HELLOOOO !!! Im here and I did not forget abt u guys jus been doing other things and working and adult stuff and yada yada BUT I DO HAVE SOME THINGS I MADE TO SHARE YAAAY !!!💗💓💓💕💖💗🩷✨🩷💗💖💕🩷✨💗✨

I did forget Bonnie’s ears here 😭

So firstly I am working on Fnaf 1 redesigns finally !! Sigh its really hard for me to even like their redesigns cause its hard to come up with outfits for them, so im constantly searching up references and its frustrating not finding what im looking for 😣 But so far I have Chica and Freddy concepts done !!

I do have an idea on how Bonnie will look like, as for Goldie and Foxyy…. uhmm im still thinking abt itt… yeaah BUT THEY WILL COME ALONG !!

Ive also designed Baby a little !! She’s a lil gremlin and ankle biter but she wont ever do that in front of the customers !! If she were to ever show how she truly is in front of the people, they would be out of the business !!

Anyway I’m still iffy on her dress and stuff so its not official yet ^^

Bon’s eyebrows are always stuck in a furrowed position cause I messed up, srry Bunbun 😓, so I decided to have his mallet show his genuine feelings

Although I feel like whenever Bon is feeling a super strong and genuine emotion his eyebrows will change show that

I love Toy Chica so much shes my favorite animatronic so I draw her more than most of my designs 😅 I love her loads like srsly, but I am planning on reworking her design. JUST SMALL CHANGES THATS ALL !!!

Like her hair ties, im changing them back to her og ribbons !! And I want to change her shoes from skates to regular white pumps, but she’ll keep her skates cause walking in heels all day hurt.

Toy Chica is a kindhearted person and will always put others before her, Teddy loves that abt her but knows very well that its one of her weaknesses. Ofc Chichi can put her foot down and stand her ground, No means no and that’s that. But when it comes to someone’s feelings she’ll falter and back down.

Idk how I want Lizzy to play in my au, in all honesty idk if I even want to put her in my au at all but I’ll see when I get there ^^

I referenced that one Lilo and Stitch scene cus it was silly and worked well with how Baby is in my au !! Now Baby will never ever hurt Lizzy, she loves her, the only person thats dealing with this ‘Angel’ is Michael 😭

Baby is pretty violent and rude with her words, actions and choices already with the Funtimes but she ends up a bit more violent later on when Ennard comes around.

She wasn’t always this way tho Ballora still clings on to false hope, wishing Baby would find herself again

AND THEN WE HAVE THIS SILLY FREDDY AND CHICA DOODLE !! Pole-Bear’s design ^^

I was feeling pretty nostalgic and drew them !! They r supposed to be singing Ghost Duet together

Not rlly a ship doodle, but if u want it to be then whatever ig ^^

AND THATS ALL !!! HOPEFULLY I’LL HAVE MORE FOR U GUYS AGAIN SOON LOVE YOU MWAH MWAAAHH 💗💖💕💓🩷💗💖💗💓💕💖💗

[k-nayee]

Ⅳ Songs and Chapters

Warrior M.List | Hiatus

Previous | Next

✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・Fate's Reckoning, Dawns of Ruin・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ✦ʚ♡ɞ✦

❝When the mighty falls it is not of their choosing, but of their making—as the hands of fate weave as they will, even when men seek to sever the threads that bind them❞

˚＊˚✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ˚＊˚

The balance of power wavered; the weight of destiny pressed upon weary shoulders.

Once unshaken, heroes now bore the scars of fate's cruel hand, their victories laced with loss and longing.

Hope flickers like embers in the wind, adorned not with laurels, but with the echoes of defiance that burns within mortal hearts.

Each sacrifice carved deeper wounds, yet no blade nor offering could sever the chains of destiny.

As the sun dips beneath a crimson horizon, the Gods turn away, leaving mortals to their triumphs and tragedies alike.

˚＊˚✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・⚔️・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ・・✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ˚＊˚

3.1 — Absence of the Departed

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) by Fall Out Boy

3.2 — Threads of Betrayal

 Give Love A Bad Name by��Bon Jovi

 Wake Up Call by Maroon 5

3.3 — In His Father's Wake

Legacy by Eminem

Memories by Maroon 5

3.4 — Veils of Deception

You're the Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley

Bad Liar by Imagine Dragons

3.5 — The Palladium Heist

Gimme the Loot by The Notorious B.I.G.

No Time to Die by Billie Eilish

3.6 — Glimmers of Redemption

Back to December by Taylor Swift

Beautiful Surprise by Tamia

3.7 — The Deceiver's Gambit

Good 4 U by Olivia Rodrigo

Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar (doesn't match the theme just love this long lol - a minooooor)

3.8 — Echoes of Legacy

Circles by Post Malone

Die with a Smile by Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars 

3.9 — The Deception Within

False God by Taylor Swift 

Heathens by Twenty One Pilots

3.10 — Storm Before the Calm

Running With the Wolves by AURORA

Come Little Children by Erutan