#and eventually after many many years of self hatred for what he cant change he finally embraces it

[235uranium]

fords hands really are a great metaphor for queerness. wild it was entirely on accident

[mammons-tax-returns]

The brothers with an MC that's obsessed with their hips HCs please! Like constantly touching their waist and cant help but looking if they're wearing a tight shirt

THE BROTHERS REACTING TO AN MC OBSESSED W/ THEIR HIPS

sheeeesh, id be too :).

this post is just “the brothers getting the appreciation they deserve and forgetting about their self hatred for a sec”

✖️ GENDER NEUTRAL MC ✖️

Unsurprisingly, he catches on pretty quickly.

At first, it kind of catches him off guard. His waist/hips aren’t normally the thing people tend to flatter him for. But it’s not like he hates it. He actually loves it.

He’s literally a goth mom that stays wearin his corset vests. MC deffo has a field day when he wears his fancy getup.

If MC is too scared to put their hands on him but wants to, he’ll most definitely notice, and encourage it when they’re alone.

He’s not one to dress FOR someone else, but it’s worth wearing a tight-fitted shirt if that means he gets a reaction out of MC.

Every time he catches their stare, he smirks and pushes his massive coat aside oh-so-casually. Just enough to give them what they want.

He notices the staring, but thinks nothing of it. After all, he’s not a model for nothing, right?

One day, MC lets a comment about it slip, intentionally or not.

Mammon is reduced to ash. That is the end of him. RIP.

He’s never the same.

Before, the attention from modeling was just a side effect of being naturally handsome. A downside of it, even.

But now, his favorite human EVER has a FAVORITE part of him that they love? Because they pay attention to him that much?

And to him, that’s the best feeling in the world. If they like that part of him, he feels proud of having it. And proud that he wears a thin shirt and cropped jacket everyday.

One time, he brought them to one of his shirtless photoshoots.

Bad idea. The entire time, he was slightly flushed and shaky from their adorable reaction to seeing him.

UGH I LOVE HIM HES SO SWEET.

It all started with that damned photo of him in a towel. We know the one.

Levi is very aware of everyone’s eyes on him.

So he gets super flustered when MC watches him for a prolonged amount of time.

But because of that big jacket of his, they have to eventually ask, “Have you ever considered just wearing a t-shirt? Maybe a long sleeved shirt?”

He’s confused, but changes into a slim fit long sleeve.

When MC continues to stare at him intently, he can feel himself shrink a little in embarrassment.

“Y-You’re silently judging me, aren’t you? Ahhh, forget it! This is exactly why Iive in the comfort of my jacket...”

It takes lots of encouragement, but he finally understands that MC does NOT feel revolted just by looking at him.

While he won’t give up wearing his jacket, he takes it off when the two are alone and playing video games.

His favorite thing in the world is allowing them to wrap their arms around his waist while he plays his video games.

Just like Mammon, it gives him butterflies thinking that someone loves his body when he can’t do it himself.

Satan also notices the stares, but writes it off as nothing important similarly to Mammon.

He’s a bookworm. He could care less about his appearance when he’s immersed in the tragic downfall of history’s greatest knights.

But he finds it a bit... Cute? Endearing? Just the thought that something so irrelevant to himself is so captivating to this human nowhere near his power level.

In his mind chock-full of thousands of years of book reading, he envisions it as a rabbit falling in love with a wolf for its triangular ears.

He’s a little off put by the idea of them touching them in such a place, but in the moment, he understands it completely.

MC’s touch is gentle but firm— loving, is what it is.

Being the avatar of wrath has many downsides. Including being avoided at all costs by so many people, even by his own brothers at some points.

So it feels great to just feel absolutely adored by someone.

We been knew.

He’s the embodiment of want. So he knows all about it. ‘It’ being the way MC discreetly sneaks glances at him from across the room.

And he goes wild for it.

He brings it up casually. Almost too casually.

“Look at how close we’re sitting MC~ I’m practically on top of you. But be careful, who knows what I’d do if you kept staring like that...”

Asmo is just waiting for the moment MC makes a move. He wants to see what it looks like for them to finally stop holding back. The mere thought of it gets his adrenaline pumping.

And as the two are posing for a selfie together, their hands instinctively go to his sides.

MC doesn’t even realize that they haven’t moved their hands even after the photo. They only realize when Asmo puts his hands over their own, smiling innocently.

“You’re too cute, MC...”

One thing that Asmo starts suggesting is slow dancing. Just the two of them, in his room swaying to the sound of his slow song playlist.

Simply enjoying each other to the tune of vintage ballroom rythms never seemed so beautiful.

Beel has a body that many would go great lengths for. It doesn’t quite resonate with him, because eating well and exercising is just his thing. They’re hobbies.

While he gets lots of compliments about it (particularly from Asmo), he doesn’t think about the curves and edges of his frame very much. He only thinks about what muscles require what stretches and workouts.

And unfortunately, he doesn’t notice any of MC’s affection for his hips.

The prolonged hugs, the staring and flushed complexion. To him, it’s all part of their friendship.

Even if they outright say, “Beel. Ur thiccness is very good.”

It doesn’t hit him very hard. He’s like yea? And? 😌🤚

However, he does have a bit of internalized insecurities about his looks. It’s not necessarily his body, but how others react to... Him.

How many times has he met someone and they didn’t look the slightest bit intimidated? Exactly. He has a resting bitch face on an athlete’s body when he’s one of the sweetest demons alive.

So yes. He is insecure. But when MC finds even the most insignificant things about him to be endearing, it reminds him that, even for a second, he can be loved in his own skin.

Just like his twin, he doesn’t particularly care for the way his body looks. Especially to others.

He couldn’t care less of what negative things anyone had to say about him, anyways. Been there, done that.

But he can’t help but notice the electricity buzzing through his tired limbs when MC keeps a lingering hand around his sides.

It’s a little odd, he notes. That such a small gesture causes his body to react like that. But it’s pleasant, he’ll admit.

And then he notices just how often it happens. Even when they’re not cuddling. MC will have a hand on his waist, for even a moment.

“MC, do you like touching me there? You don’t do it to anyone else, I’ve noticed.”

They are embarrassed— mostly because they never really realized they were doing it. As soon as they go to apologize, Belphie lets out his sweet giggle.

“It’s okay. I actually like it... It’s cute that you do it so absentmindedly.”

[sulietsexual]

Its been a while since I asked you meta related things so I just had a random idea - top 5 characters which you just dont understand, top 5 ch which are well writen but you cant connect or like, top 5 ch storylines you would like to alter, top 5 traits of your disliked chracters that you like, top 5 traits of your loved characters you dislike, top 5 ways your disliked characters contributed to the main storyline that youre fine with. For males and females separately so theres room for thought :)

Top 5 Characters I Don’t Understand

Male

Wesley Wyndam Pryce - okay, so this is only from mid-Season 3 onward, but I cannot fathom Wesley’s actions in stealing Connor, consulting with Holtz and doubting/not believing in Angel to the point where he didn’t realise that Angel would do everything in his power to protect Connor. Then his self-righteous attitude post-kidnap is appalling, the fact that he acts like the wronged party and refuses to acknowledge his own wrongdoings and never apologises for his actions all drive me crazy. Just can’t.

Luke Danes, I mean, buddy, pull it together. You say you want Lorelai, yet never make a move and then bitch about her boyfriends and act like a jerk. You say you’re “all in” and then you run at the first sign of trouble and make Lorelai feel like she did something wrong. You tell Lorelai you want her to be honest with you and then you hide your daughter from her for two freakin’ months. You say you want to spend your life with her, yet you shut her out of it. Like, wtf??

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, omg, why is he such an abusive asshole? Why does he treat every woman he’s with like crap? Why does he treat Mellie as if she’s insignificant and stupid? Why does he act entitled to everyone’s time and affections? Why does he continually try to give up the most powerful position in America? Why doesn’t he have any ambition? Why does he resent anyone who does??? I don’t understand.

John Winchester. Dude’s always going on about how he “did the best that he could”. Nope. The best he could would have been to raise his boys in a stable freakin’ environment, not push adult responsibility onto his eldest, not treat his youngest like an outcast/freak for wanting a better life and actually being an adult and being there for his boys. How does he justify the way he treated his sons? Don’t get it.

Finn Collins. Dude, you cheat on your girlfriend, neglect to tell the girl you’re cheating with that you even have a girlfriend, don’t tell your girlfriend you cheated on her and expect both girls to still want you? Plus the whole massacring eighteen unarmed people and then ignoring their bodies as the girl you want walks in horrified and look at her as if she’ll love you for your actions? Yikes.

Female

Lorelai Gilmore, she constantly puts her mother down for her privilege and sense of entitlement, yet displays the exact same behaviour. She rejected Chris, then bitches about how he “wasn’t ready”. She thinks all her behaviour is cute but it’s actually really annoying. And she honestly seems to believe that her parents were the absolute worst parents in the world, when it reality they were really good to her and always try to be a part of her life. Pull it together, woman!

Octavia Blake, why does she blame her brother for everything? Why is her solution always violence? Why does she proudly cannibalize people? Why does she think she knows more about a culture she’s been a part of for two seconds than the people actually raised in said culture? 

Nancy Wheeler. Why does she want Jonathan so badly? Why does she screw over Steve? What makes her neglect her brother and run off with the guy she just banged? Why doesn’t she think through the consequences of her actions? Why did she offer her brother zero comfort when his friend “died”? What made her think it was okay to chase down Jonathan while he was picking out a coffin for his brother’s funeral to talk about Barb? Girl drives me bonkers.

Joey Potter, so many of her actions make no sense. She pines after Dawson for years and then breaks up with him for literally no reason. She blames him for telling her the truth about her father, after repeatedly saying they need to be honest with one another. She can’t decide between two guys for years. She constantly rejects Pacey yet picks him in the end. She believes she’s entitled to be a bitch to people just because she’s had a tough life.

Aria Montgomery, if your creepy-ass relationship really so important to you that you would lie to your friends and family, threaten your parents, risk your partner going to jail, threaten to walk out on your family and basically cease to exist outside of your boyfriend? Yikes.

Going to put the rest under the cut, otherwise we’re going to end up with a post a mile long.

Top 5 Characters Who Are Well-writen But I Can’t Connect To or Like

Male

John Locke, a great-written character who drives me up the wall with his over-zealousness and delusions of grandeur.

Spike, he really does have a great character arc and characterisation but his over-exposure and the fandom’s adulation of him drive me crazy, plus I hate how his narrative overtakes Buffy’s.

Jack Shepherd, such a great arc, such an amazing journey but his douchey behaviour and the way he treats certain characters means I just can’t like him.

Perry Cox, I find him amusing and do occasionally like him but his lack of self-awareness and overall mean attitude and sexism bugs me.

Dean Winchester, so well-written with a great arc but also abusive, violent, self-righteous, sexist and overall annoying as hell.

Female

Regina Mills, her redemption arc is sloppy but her characterisation was always strong and she’s a fantastic villain, which is why I love to hate her.

Robin Scherbatsky, very well-written with a great arc (until the finale) but I just cannot like her, probably due to her arrogance and meanness.

Rachel Green, now, I don’t hate Rachel or anything but she’s one of my least-favourite Friends characters and I’ve never been able to connect with her.

Katniss Everdeen, a great-written character whose personality I find very hard to reconcile and who I just cannot connect with.

Kate Austin, great arc, great characterisation, full of traits I can’t stand and makes choices that make me want to throttle her.

Top 5 Characters Storylines I Would Like To Alter

Male

Neal Cassidy, he was done so dirty by that damn show!

August Booth, another one screwed over by OUAT and there was so much left to explore with his character!

Dean Forrester, I really hate how much Gilmore Girls dumbled down and assassinated his character.

Boyd Langton, Dollhouse’s weird out-of-nowhere reveal that he was the bad guy completely changed his character and he didn’t deserve that.

Jake Ballard, he deserves better than being second-choice for Olivia Pope.

Female

Laurel Lance, who deserved the fucking world and got nothing, I would change so much about her storyline and eventual fate.

Mellie Grant who, like Laurel, deserved so much and got shit.

Emma Swan, who was character assassinated in order to box her into a toxic ship which decimated everything about her.

Juliet Burke, who should have lived and had a happy life and finally made it off that damn Island!

Effy Stonem, who deserved better than to be sandwiched between two guys who treated her like a prize and blamed her for their rivalry, not to mention the shitty “friends” who used her as their scapegoat.

Top 5 Traits Of My Disliked Characters That I Like (I’m not going to pick my absolute most disliked characters for this, but just 5 characters I dislike in general. Also, probably can’t come up with five for each, so I’ll go with as many as I can list).

Male

Going with Wesley again - love his intelligence, his surprising confidence when he allows himself to show it, his thirst for knowledge and his goofiness.

Spike - I like his bravado, his confidence and his loyalty.

Dean Winchester - similarly to Spike, his bravado, his loyalty and his confidence, as well as his humour and love of fun.

Luke Danes - I like that he’s good at the big gestures, I like his snark and his homebody nature.

Jess Mariano - I like intelligence, his snark and the fact that he sorts himself out later on in life.

Female

Anya Jenkins - love her work ethic and the fact that she handles money well and knows how to budget, save and invest.

Betty Cooper - she’s got gumption, I’ll give her that and she is intelligent and hardworking.

Felicity Smoak - like Betty, she’s intelligent and has gumption.

Cassie from the Animorphs series - she’s compassionate and does try to understand people, which I like.She also has a lot of empathy.

Alison DiLaurentis - she is ruthless and strategic and highly intelligent, all of which I admire, even if her actions are truly sociopathic.

Top 5 Traits Of My Loved Characters I Dislike (again, this may not reach five but I’ll do my best)

Male

Angel - his tendency to make decisions for others, his jealousy, the way he can completely cut off those he cares about.

James Ford - the way he lets his self-hatred affect others, his self-centredness, the way he can be deliberately cruel at times.

August Booth - he lies way too much, his self-hatred, his selfishness.

Neal Cassidy ………….. nope, I love Neal too much, can’t think of any traits I dislike.

Charles Gunn - the way he diminishes himself for others.

Female

Prue Halliwell - that damn pride, her self-righteousness, her judgmental streak.

Juliet Burke ……………. nope, as with Neal, love her way too much to dislike anything about her.

Lana Lang - her Mary Sue traits (this lies more on the writing of her character than her), her tendency to project her own feelings onto others.

Lilah Morgan - well, she’s an evil bitch, but you’re supposed to hate her for that, so I more hate her actions than her herself, such as when she gives Cordy the visions which almost kill her or when she sends people to drill into Lorn’s head.

Jo March - her lack of propriety at times, her judgemental streak, her refusal to adhere to convention (at times)

Top 5 Ways My Disliked Characters Contributed To The Main Storyline That I’m Fine With (I am running out of steam and not sure if I can come up with 5 males and 5 females, so gonna combine them for this last one and again might not make it to Top 5)

Alison DiLaurentis - I like her as a villain, her murder kicks off the whole series which worked well, and I liked that she works as a foil for all the girls, in particular Hanna and Mona.

Spike - love him as a villain in Season 2, love that he works as a foil for Angel in AtS Season 5, liked him stirring things up in Lovers Walk in Season 3.

Regina Mills - love her as a villain, love her as the Curse Caster, liked her dynamic with Emma, liked her as a foil for Snow and Emma.

……. I actually might be out, as usually when I hate a character it’s because of the way in which they negatively impact the storyline.

Whew, I’m knackered. Hope you enjoy my answers, even if they’re not 100% what you asked for!

[safrona-shadowsun]

{Rp between Safrona and @aranyaphoenix that eventually carried into game. Thank you for helping me get more acclimated to rping in game again! Under a cut for length. With mention of @mrblaque!}

A short, penned letter in return was sent to the Arcanist detailed a time to meet in Sunspire Port, always injecting some needed organization within the bit of chaos of her days. The Courier was also a punctual creature, yet she arrived without her typical red cloak - today was not exactly a day for the typical business it would signal. Safrona was dressed only in the Ebonsilk gown that the lady Arcanist had given her on the first day of their meeting a summer ago, and today she was approaching few else. The expected company of the Ethereal also waited, the setting sun edging the starry light of his form with its color. Her gaze was cast out to the sea, idling on the scene that gave the Port its aspect of beauty.

Aranya could only smile, seeing the familiar gown she had given to the lovely Courier, and how the smoldering design matched the flame-washed appearance of Saraj's wrappings. It was like they had been donned in fire, just for the occasion of meeting with her. "It is good to see you both," greeted the arcanist. "Please, tell me what matters have been at hand."

A cant of the head was given by the lady importer,  while the Ethereal flourished into the usual gentlemanly bow,  show off that he was. "Too many matters at hand,  but I'm glad for the moment to tear away from them to meet with you. " Safrona ambled along slowly down the pier,  inviting Aranya to stroll with her.  She seemed to want the conversation to be more private,  away from passing ears.  "But one of those matters I've felt... drawn to speak with you on." A small smile curved her lips as her absinthe eyes glanced the Arcanist's way.  "If Blaque trusts you,  I figure that is a good sign I can too."

"Likewise," replied Aranya with sincere warmth. "And your aid arranging with Saraj for the temporary dome for Sunspire was most helpful. I would be only to happy to return such a favor."

There was a silence from the Courier, unsure of how to begin to ask her questions, to ask the favors she would ask. Her natural hesitance did not go unnoticed, and the sincerity of the Arcanist came again. “How can I help, Safrona?”

She was unable to meet the sorceress’ eyes in that moment. “I hoped for a... favor. That you might keep something hidden for me. Or...safe, is more the word. Keeping it in Dalaran any longer might put me at risk of certain implications I am trying to avoid.”

Aranya’s whiskery black eyebrows furrow. “I can certainly do my best. What manner of “something” is it that could implicate you, may I ask?”

Safrona let out a soft exhale in attempt to release her nervousness, her absinthe gaze holding on Aranya a moment as she explained in a careful murmur. “It’s of a demonic nature. Sunspire Port was what I thought of as far as...security. With you and Blaque...”

Stepping forward and nodding, Aranya was quiet, all ears to hear whatever more needed to be said. But staring on the Arcanist drew in the Courier’s gaze, attaching to something beneath the flesh, idling sight penetrating. “There is...more I feel. A draw to you specifically. I am unsure how well you are connected to the Purveyor but...there is a familiarity that surpasses even what I feel in him in you...”

Ver’sarn blinked, silent and straight faced, as the Courier continued with her careful insight. “...you have touched something....tainted, haven’t you? I feel it, like a dark stirring..”

It was Aranya’s turn for her eyes to be chased away as she admitted: “I have touched--and tasted--many a tainted thing these past several years...it’s not easily understood by some. “What stirs...funny you should say that.” Safrona was met by a wry smile.

“This seems...or feels more recent.” The warlock continued a little more confidently at the admittance. “Either a newly touched demonic source, or something...resurfacing?” The curious edge was on her voice, still surprised in what she herself was saying. The lady Arcanist hardly seemed to be one embroiled in corruption. But she heard it, the dark static of something kept quiet for too long. “There are voices that I am tuned to in the Dark, and it knows your name.”

A nod from the Arcanist further solidified her insights. “There is one. One I tasted, one I crippled in ways that can never be undone. His face found me in my dreams, recently, making threats...or portents. I struggle to discern which.”

“...manipulative, yes? Even in death their hold is reaching. It is their nature to corrupt.” The Courier remarked with some bitterness. “I struggle in my own way as well, but it is more the nature of what I do. As the Legion has fell on Azeroth again, the demons have become more prey than I mean them to be. But every soul I tap into, that I rip from them is...not always the victory that some would celebrate.” She gave her attention back to Aranya as she looked out to sea, the storm that seemed to ever be building in the distance.

“Mmm, they were common prey for me as well, once upon a time. I hunted them in the days we tapped mana, for sustenance. But what no one could have known was what part of my true nature that fostered in me.”

A quiet attentiveness continued in the Courier, the verdant gaze of the Arcanist returning to her with intensity. “I liked it, Safrona. I found a visceral pleasure in the hunt, the triumph, the taste of tapping the essence of my prey before they fade away. That’s never gone away. It’s an addiction deeper than blood, my predator nature. But it’s been years since I gained full self-control and few know or really understand it...”

The importer’s brow furrowed both with some confusion. “...how did you stay...yourself, in it all? Did they’re hatred not haunt you? Their destruction? Until you could not remember who you are?”

Aranya shook her head, “I felt nothing for them after I drained them. Like an animal, or a beast. And that’s what I struggled with, being my own master of myself, trying to not let the urges of my blood be what controlled me. And yet, that urge for the hunt stirs more strongly than ever again....He saw it in me as he faded beneath my hand. He knows.”

A momentary silence again, as each woman considered the words already passed, the words to next give. Aranya broke it with her wry smile. “The Tomb changed the whole game, didn’t it? A font of power for them all, even the weakest ones.”

There was a gradual nod from the Courier as she agreed. “It changes much. And in the years I have survived, I’ve fought a long habit of needing to...change as well. Or go back to the beginning of what I know, I suppose you can say.”

A nod now from the Arcanist, kindly in tone. “Perhaps we can help each other...”

“I am hoping so...” Safrona began on an anxious breath as she rolled a finger up across her temple. More cracks in the Courier’s composure tonight than she would be privy to before the typical acquaintance. “But you need to know more of me in order for that to happen.”

A directing nod to the Ethereal, and Saraj breached reality to access Void Storage, pulling an articulated chest of dark orgin from its hollow expanse. As it hit the wooden dock with a heaviness, the disturbed reality healed.

“My initial forray into the Dark Arts was paved on a road of ignorance, Miss Aranya. A decade ago I was...different. Naive. Too trusting. Desperate. Vengeful. And I trusted my fate to the wrong mentoring hands. A decade ago, I earned boons of power by offering up the innocent to the Dark. The purer the soul, the better the sacrifice, the better the boon of power by which to earn. And with our own measured currency invested in the soul, it was not long before I began offering up pieces of my own to better cement my path to power.”

Aranya nodded gravely, but it was not with a judging eye, coercing instead for the Courier to continue.

“In the days of my Gathering, my coven, this was...simply the expectant. We did not question who we served, the names we gave ourselves to. In those days, the name Tichondrius was one meant for all else to fear and us to divulge long-dead secrets from.” Safrona’s eyes settled on the chest lain before them. “By the time I could gather my will to break from the ‘pack’, the gravity of what what was done was...there. My soul tethered to names sworn in the Great Dark, to demonic overlords. I have managed to outrun my fate for years in one way or another, but the Path ends the same either way I walk it.”

“Dark bargains were made then, I take it?”

A stiff nod now from the Courier. “I had long settled with my fate. That I belong to the Dark, when I take my last breath and cannot steal another more.”

Aranya almost seemed bemused now, trying to lighten the moment. “Doesn’t sound like a very pleasant afterlife, eternally in thrall.”

Safrona’s smile tightened. “In thrall? More perhaps hollowed out by others to serve as a vessel. There are many ways that the entities of the Dark can stake a claim on a soul, and none are too pleasant.”

The words stole the mirth from the Arcanist. “And what of your soul...?”

Safrona lighted a finger at her own breast, simply feeling the heart that beat beneath it, the thrum of the soul it echoed through. For a moment, her eyes misted over with the knowing she could lose all of what she had tried to make her own, even if she lost all right to it long ago. “What is left of who I am is...chained to the Dark, food for the Dreadlord I swore it too. Even in death he continues to mock me, eternally bound to the Dark as I am, knowing I belong. I have no future. No afterlife. And I had thought I had long settled with the price I am to pay...”

Her voice took a soft, yearning turn, staring out to the ocean where so much began and ended. “And yet...in the three years I have began to learn to live again? I...have come to want more. To be more, to live...more. I may have become greedy, but I want to claim a better death when the day comes, at the very least. Is this too much to want, my friend?”

There was no answer, but the gentle wrap of arms around her. At first there was hesitation within the embrace. Even within Aranya’s inner struggles, she was not a demon, and the touch lighted on a submerged yearning for something to break up the monotony of Fel-taint the Warlock had fed on alone. But with an instilled control, and the heavy reliance of warding runes inscribed to her skin, she inhaled only the comfort that was offered from a friend. 

“I think I know how this can be done,” Aranya murmured as she released the importer. “And perhaps it will bring some light for me as well.”

“...yes...” Lacy fingers gestured to the chest. “This is why I bring the chest to Sunspire Port. To you. To Blaque. Your Order. I think you can help me.”

“What is in the chest?”

“What is left of the Lord of the Nathrezim. What I could manage. His dormant eye.”

The wheels visibly turned in the Arcanist’s head as she gazed to the ‘prize’, even as Safrona further explained. “I need to severe my connection to him. To the Legion. I want to.”

The thoughtful gaze lightened with a spark in her eyes, Aranya’s lips slowly pulled to a smile. “If Blaque will allow it...I believe I know just such a condition that brings this about.”

The Courier injected her intensity to the matter. “Aranya...My freedom’s cost is death, either way. And I understand it can be my own, if it must be.”

The grave silence returned as the sorceress nodded, and Safrona dared to perk a smile. “Luckily we have soulstones, yes?”

“Or something very near to it.” The Arcanist paused to collect her wheel of thoughts, then elaborated again. “Tezzakel. That was the name of the first demon I crippled beyond repair. Because I drained him of his power and killed him in the wastes of Outland, a world saturated by the Nether. Talk to Blaque, there is a way you can face your death, and if it is done in the heart of the Netherstorm, you may yet have your freedom, one way or another.”

Safrona muttered the name beneath her breath to commit it to memory, as such names held power. But as Aranya mentioned Netherstorm, there was a glint of recognition in her eyes as they blinked back up to the Arcanist.

“...fitting, I think. I died there once. Fell from the clutches of the Nether when I tried to denounce what bound me, deny the sacrifice of my love.” She was momentarily lost in resurfacing memory, of which Aranya brought her back from with the encouraging comfort of a touch to the arm. “Thank you for your insights. I will...confer with Blaque. But enough of the glum talk. I think I promised a certain sorceress wine.”