#ask phantom mangle

[natemares-weird-ask-blog]

Do YOU like NWTB's egos?

Well now you can ask and interact with them!!

Main blog

[fazbears-horror-attraction]

[ID: There are two flags, one with and one without the cat. The flags have five stripes. The cat is an orange tabby with its right side of its face and side, and the tip of the tail showing its bones and the stripes has oranges, blue, and white. End of ID]

★ CorpseCatgameic -> a gender related to the Corpse cat from cat game!! this can also be a kingender, but doesn’t have to be!!

Catgameic by @/genderyboy

Note: Anyone can use my ( Mod Phantom ) terms. If you are on our DNI you can still use them, but please do not interact with our blog ( You may re-upload my flags to your hoard as long as you credit me, that is all i ask as i am aware of death of an author. You may also redesign my flags, but please credit and/or tag me. Thank you )

[phantom-does-a-thing]

what’s ur favorite fnaf animatronic

Any foxy animatronic — fnaf 1 foxy I’d say. But really only my brain version of foxy I wish I could actually draw so I could redesign them better but yeag

[merakiui]

thing.

yandere!skully j. graves x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, fear/paranoia, brief mention and description of dead animals note - "he is there—and there again, but you cannot see him plain, for the shadow lies so darkly on the hill."

There is a bundle of black roses propped against your door. Thirteen of them, devoid of thorns, but the threat is still there—nestled within the petals, a foreboding symbolism.

A stupid Halloween prank, you think, gathering the roses and tossing them out.

Come tomorrow, there is a new bouquet waiting for you. These are white, but they have their thorns. A small card accompanies the gift. There’s a message printed in an old typewriter font: No good?

Like before, you discard these flowers. You have no time for secret admirers or daft nonsense.

So the roses stop blooming at your door, tied up with pretty twine and ribbons. Instead, you receive bones and carcasses. A mouse skull. Deer teeth. A mangled bird, its wings snapped and bent at the joints. A rabbit’s foot, warm and still bleeding, the bone jutting out from severed flesh. The roses, you think, were a preview of what was to come—of what you’d soon be mourning.

These macabre presents are wrapped sincerely, shrouded daintily with frilly cloth. They come with their own set of cards, each one typed just like before. 

I can see you.

Good luck on your exam today. Carry this rabbit’s foot with you and you shall know fortune.

This naughty bird is always cawing outside of your window. It wakes you up, so I silenced it for you. It is most beautiful in death, is it not?

Are you going to bring that friend of yours around again? I don’t quite like the scent they leave on your sheets. :(

So you share these morbid anecdotes with your friends over dinner. They don’t believe you.

“You’ve one persistent dog after you,” one of them remarks, eyeing the pictures with a curious, doubtful eye. “A real rotten mutt.”

“But I don’t have a dog,” you reply.

“Well, something’s coming home to you every night.”

“It’s just me. I live alone.”

“Do you? You sure nothing’s following you? You don’t hear the jingle of a collar? The soft padding of paws on tile, loyally trailing after its owner?”

At the time, you thought these were foolish questions.

“The flowers? Definitely a person,” your logical friend suggests. “The dead stuff? Probably a wild animal. A hawk once dropped a mouse in my yard. It’s normal. Someone’s just making a nasty time out of it, leaving those notes to scare you.”

That sounds reasonable. You choose to believe it even when there are inconsistencies and clues that prove otherwise.

You check the locks on your doors and windows. You consider buying cameras, but maybe that’s misplaced paranoia. No one’s inside your house. No person or thing could possibly get in. You’re not sure what would be worse: a tangible human being with human hair, human eyes, and human teeth, or a thing. A thing with claws and a razored maw. A thing with inhuman strength and the eerie quietness of a phantom, plucked right from your nightmares and dropped in reality.

A human being is tangible. A thing could be anything. It could also be nothing.

“I’m not interesting enough to have a stalker,” you tell your logical friend. “Not special enough or rich enough. Not attractive enough.”

“You don’t have to be,” they tell you. “Sometimes all you need to be is alone and vulnerable. Sometimes all you need to do is exist so that they have something to latch onto—something they can covet no matter what.”

“Do you think they’ll kill me?” you ask next, hesitating around that word. Kill. It’s so final and exact. “If they can do such gruesome things to those animals…”

“Or it could be a dog. Dogs don’t kill their owners. They’re loyal.”

“But it’s not a dog. I don’t even think this thing is domesticated.”

“Then what is it?”

“Something.”

It is something malevolent. It is something malicious. It is something you can’t quite fathom—something you can’t picture in your mind because it is always swapping shapes. One minute it’s a nest of mice dwelling within your walls. The next it’s a shadow creature—a demon or a monster. The next it’s a human with strange proportions, too-long legs and too-long arms and a too-long torso. The next it’s a dog with a long, long snout and very human eyes, with human hands for paws, with a curling smile that reveals gaps in its pointed, bloody maw. It feasts on flesh and hunts little, defenseless songbirds, and it’s after you because it wants something you can’t give it.

What does it want? Is this thing even real? Perhaps the anxiety is making a monster out of nothing.

You twist and turn in the dark, wrapped up in sheets that feel more itchy than they do comforting. You’re cold all over, sweating an ocean in your bed. You think your heart might burst out of your chest at any minute. Every creak and groan of the house unsettles nerves that are already pulled impossibly taut. You gaze into the dark doorway, squinting through shadows that look like they’re waltzing in and out of focus.

Or…

Is the door breathing? Is someone there?

You rub your eyes and relief filters in. There’s nothing.

Or…

Your phone cuts a slice of light through your bedroom. You shine it towards the door from where you cower on your bed. There’s nothing.

Your friend—the unfunny one—texts you then, and the vibration scares you more than your imagination. A text is tangible, easily categorized, and yet it’s the scariest thing you’ve just received at this moment, however ghoulishly playful it may be.

u need a leash for ur dog?

You drop your phone. It illuminates the space beneath your bed for a second before the screen shuts off.

You think you hear someone breathing or a heart beating. It’s yours.

Or…

Swallowing thickly, you reach for your phone. You feel soft, fluffy hair. At first, you think it really is a dog when a warm, wet tongue laves over your palm. But you don’t have a dog, and it’s then when you feel the rest of this…thing. Human ears. Human nose. Human mouth. Human teeth. 

Another text brightens your phone. The screen flickers on.

You peek over the edge of your mattress to find a distinctly human face smiling back at you.

might as well get a collar too yeah?

[edenspoem]

18+ abby likes having your thighs around her head. wound like ribbon, leading on the edge of something latently more hot, it bears comfort on the cold youth of night. there, in bed, a mangle of horror sits on the screen ahead, and vintage-quality screams chainsaw into your ears. an admirer of classics; abby suggested a movie night low in the sheets, deep in the dark of your room.

it occurs without surcrease. over time, you became fond of the idea, tangling into bed no questions asked. but where you aren't sure, is if the scene ahead, or the scene itself: soft, pliable flesh, lining of your thigh pressing along her, and the strong, hale hands that knead into them as they mean to go nowhere else, made you want the situation more often. it made your muscles tense, and she assumed it was the anticipative crescendo's doing.

“hey, relax,” she soothes, silky with her hands and her voice and every reflex it takes to answer you. “we can switch to something more.. your style. that show you mentioned, maybe?” abby perks from her spot and twists at the torso, hand never fleeing from it's original position.

at this, you affirm, “no, not that.” and demand her eyes with yours that it most definitely has something to do with her worked-in hand on your thigh. the phantom weight of her head, in that sensitive gap.

then there was the weight reversed. straddiling her head like a learned girl knows well enough to entertain the ask of; there was no anticipative crescendo to this position; abby likes it this way, and so, she will take you this way.

you sat a little higher than her head, begging the rims of the headboard to keep you steady against the wrappings of her arms around your hips. they held you to a pleasurous condemnation. her tongue writhed under you, licking and lapping up the part of your folds, and spending tortuous, concentrated time on your clit. it rolls on the flat of her tongue, and brings you into several breathless ecstasies. “fuck—you're amazing, abby.” it makes you all hot down there; throbbing with heat, twitches and other overtaking things that simply made you want to fit the whole of your pussy into her mouth. ride everything out, all messy, all gruesome.

“yeah baby?” she pops off to curl, hot breath that clasps your underside. then, her tongue extends out, slapping your clit intermittently. “this your style?” and goddamn it, it most surely is your fuckin' style.

first abby blurb in a while. my charecterization with her sucks but i know people have been waiting! ellie version

[remina-mina]

First years and how they ended up at Ramshackle (Pomefiore)

Epel

"It's not like you to zone out in potions class." "... Vil just has been working me to bone recently, don't worry" "I wasn't worried but.. a good sleep schedule is important to maintain a good performance in classes"

If someone asked Epel when he started sleeping over at Ramshackle he'd tell'em to mind their business. But if he was feeling generous he'd lie and tell them it started during the VDC but even he knows thats not quite the whole truth.

The pristine walls of Pomefiore are beautiful, undeniably so, nevertheless after his adventure to STYX and Yuu and Grim's return to Ramshackle he can't help the sickness in his stomach as he wanders the halls.

This sickness is different from the resigned annoyance he'd felt at the start of the year. Different from loneliness that would grasp onto his bones and twist itself until he found himself awake the next morning. No, this was more dangerous and thorny than that.

His feet carry him to the Pomefiore gardens where he'd spent the past couple nights reciting his unique magic and practicing until dawn. He needs to be ready for whatever may come. He needs to be stronger or else...

If he practices just a couple more times then surely, surely, the mangled unnatural limbs of phantoms will leave his nightmares, the sound of screams will leave him. If he tires himself out then his nights will no longer be sleepless. Just one more time-

"Epel... You are aware that curfew was 4 hours ago" A stern voice cuts through the garden. "Vil-san... I.. woke up to get water" Epel mumbles. He can't even bring himself to look Vil in the eye. Epel doesn't even know what he's saying. Does he even care anymore? "Water from the garden hose?" He doesn't even need to look at Vil to imagine the way his brows furrow just enough to convey his disappointment while avoiding wrinkles. "Follow me." Vil doesn't give Epel the chance to respond before dragging him along the path out of Pomefiore. Soon they are standing in front of the gate to Ramshackle. "Why did'ja bring me here?" Epel turns to Vil and looks at him for the first time that night. He realizes that he let his accent slip and braces himself for the lecture, but no lecture comes. "I am simply fulfilling a request."

Before he can question him, Yuu steps out from Ramshackle and calls out to him. When he turns to say goodnight to Vil, he finds him already walking back to the dorm and takes that as a sign to head into Ramshackle.

To his shock he finds Ace, Deuce, and Jack already inside, sitting on makeshift beds on the lounge floor. There was already a bed set up for him too.

He half-expects them to force him to answer questions, like why was he awake but no questions come. When he finally gets a good look at everyone he sees a burning, they all want to be stronger, they all want to conquer the fears that grapple them.

Deuce hands him a fresh cup of tea and in the warmth, he finds himself tearing up. If anyone notices the stray tears that fall, they don't comment.

Even though the lounge silent, there is so much said, and in those unspoken words he finds a temporary medicine to the sickness that'd grappled him for weeks. And his sleep is dreamless.

honestly I see Epel as someone whose very stubborn and can get very tunnel visioned just like Deuce and end up beating themself up with their impatience and put themselves in a spiral. that's partially why I decided to have Deuce be the one to give him tea, it's almost like a silent message of we can work to be stronger together just like we promised on the beach. I had a feeling Yuu would notice that Epel hasn't been sleeping while they were staying at Pomefiore, especially since they'd gotten so close through the STYX incident. Maybe as one last thank you to Vil for letting them stay they tip him off about Epel's night practices. Epel craves strength but not as a tool to dominate but rather as a way to protect other people. of course because he is an NRC student is a side of him where he finds his place in the world and orients his relation with those around him based on strength but I feel we see a bit of this fall away as he experiences more deadly situations. anyway I can ramble for hours about Epel.

Ace / Deuce / Jack / Epel

[octagava]

BSD: SUNRISE NAVIGATION POST

The day Atsushi and Dazai meet...

[AO3 LINK]

It had been exactly four years since she left, and not a single day has passed without Atsushi's mind wandering back to her.

Even now, as he sat on the damp ground, morning dew seeping into his pants as the crisp September air of Zephyr was biting into his skin, her absence clung to him like a phantom that would not let go.

The river stretched out before him, sun rising above the water illuminating the soft oranges and golds on it's surface. Reminding him of the long dark night where his body ached and his mouth tasted of blood, when the only proof that he was not really in the depths of hell was the rising sun over the horizon. Always indifferent to his suffering.

He was hurt. Other people were hurt. Yet the world kept spinning.

There used to be a time when he watched those sunrises with her. Now however, all he had was an old, mangled phone charm. So worn and disfigured that it was nearly unrecognizable in what it used to be. So loved and cherish that it is no longer the same.

Was this what truly love was?

To be changed by someone, to be left with pieces of them long after they were gone? To be destroyed even in the gentlest of hands?

Nevertheless he batted away the thought, sighing at it. He'd tried his best to live as she asked, to save people, to make a difference, to scrub away the blood on his hands even if it was a rotten work. To live the way she wished him to.

But. No matter how much he did, how much he tried and do what felt right, it was never enough. Not to him at the very least. Leaving him in a state of wonder if she would have liked the life he's leading a lot more then him. If she was here instead of here, she would have been happier.

Atsushi closed his dual colored eyes, focusing his senses on the sounds around him, the whispers of the wind, rhythm of the water, every now and then even a humm of a passing car, loud clatter of a train, eve somewhere behind him a military squad had jobbed by earlier, their boots thudding heavily against the pavement.

And then-

A splash.

His eyes snapped open instantly.

For just a single moment he thought he might have imagined it. Then he saw them…. two legs floating on the waters surface upwards, with the current pulling them under, bit by bit.

Huh?

Atsushi stared.

Someone's…. drowning???

His body moved before his mind caught up.

The shock of cold water hit him as he moved towards the sinking figure. His hands grasping onto the fabric, with sharp pulls he dragged the person back towards the riverbank, forcing them onto the solid ground.

The man looked barely conscious, his dark hair plastered to his bruised face. Atsushi caught his breath, then pressed two fingers against the man’s neck, searching for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

A soft buzz spread against his fingers at the skin contact.

Atsushi leaned in, checking for breath, but just as he did so, the man lunched upwards with a sharp gasp, nearly colliding with Atsushi in the process if he had not pushed himself away.

Dark red eyes meet the purple-gold.

They stared at each other for a good while, none of them speaking up.

The man blinked blearily. Then, as if only just processing that he's in-fact alive, a mutter left his cold lips, "Ah."

A beat.

"Ah," he muttered again, slightly louder this time. "I'm alive."

Atsushi, dripping wet and cold, "Yeah. The current must have swept you up," he stated "You should be more careful."

The man turned his head in a jagged way to look at him fully, gaze slow as if trying to piece what had happened. Then, after a long pause, he let out sharp and annoyed "Damn."

"Excuse me?" Atsushi frowned.

The man flopped back onto the grass with a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at the sky. “That was the point.”

"What." He blinked, unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

"I was meant to drown" his tone was lecturing, as if Atsushi was the idiot here.

"Well, congratulations," he said flatly. "You failed."

The other just let our an exaggerated sigh "How tragic" he whined.

Atsushi pushed himself up to his feet wringling out his sleeves. He looked up and down the man, he wasn't anything special, more so reminded him of a drowned cat. He didn't even has any shoes, only mismatched socks. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you and honestly I don't have the tie for this. Just… don't do it again, get a therapist or something."

He was rewarded with a noncommited humm.

"Im serious."

"Im sure you are."

The white haired man already could feel a migraine coming his way "You got a name?"

Black hair titled this head lazily, as if evaluating if he should give his name in the first place." Dazai. Dazai Osamu."

Atushi eyed him, just for a moment before nodding at him "Right. Well, Dazai-kun, I-"

"I suppose that makes me your responsibility now," Dazai cut in without a care. His tone was just as carelss as his posture, one leg stretched out while the other was bent, his smirk couldn't be even descriibed as smug, but more so lazy.

"What." he seemd to be saying that quite a lot when interacting with the youngin.

Dazai stretched his arms over his head, looking completely ar east despite being int the soaked state and being half-drowned a minute ago. "You saved me. That means you've got to take care of me now."

"That's… not how this works," Atsushi stared at him, unblinnkingly, his words said slowly as if he was talking to a child.

"Isn't it?" The other turned to him fully now, a faint smirk gracing his lips. "You pulled me out of that river. You stopped me from dying. Now I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to." amusement was evident in the other "You wouldn't just leave me after all that effort would you?"

Serval different responses ran through his head, sure Atsushi could leave, he probably should. But, a little part of him that was still hung on what he promised was whispering, take him in, she wouldn't want you to abandon someone in need.

And even Atsushi himself was not a man who leaves someone behind. He never had been. Never wanted to leave those in need. He could feel the phantom weight of a worn charm in his hand.

Atsushi rubbed the bridge of his nose "Im not babysitting you." it could have been a rejection "But fine."

Dazai grinned, slow and sharp "Oh, I wouldnt dream of it."

Somehow Atsushi didn't believe him.

[mobox87]

BIG ANNOUCEMENT

Hello all! It's certainly been a while but I've come with good news!

There have been characters of Affinity that have been sold without others knowing, this has led others to get rather annoyed since they only think one person can buy these characters...

... Well, that ends today!

There are characters of Affinity that I don't have any use for anymore, the old designs from 2014-2020 that I don't use in my current AU have no use to me anymore, and I don't want for them to go to waste without a good home for them to have, which is why I've decided to announce that all the old designs from 2014-2020 that I don't use in my current AU are now available to be sold to the public!

Though, these designs have had a big impact on me, and I would like to say that I don't wish to sell them for anything less than $30. Please keep that in mind!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope these characters will be able to have good homes!

Please ask, I will make a long list of characters that have been sold to some people, in the meantime you can ask and I will let you know if it has been sold or not

list of SOLD characters (still going to be updated

SOLD!!! SOLD!!!

If some buyers want to put characters they already bought, let me know!

OPTA

Lian

Phantom Scott (FON)

Morbius (FON)

Bonter (FON)

Krungest (FON)

Beltren (FON)

Helltrap (FON)

Klames (FON)

GINNY (FON)

Delmare (FON)

Chica (The Fnaf School design)

Nightmare Springbonnie

Sammy (Old design)

Shadow Bonnie (Fnaf School design)

Shadow Bonnie (VERY OLD design)

Nightmare Freddy (Fnaf School design)

Fnaf 4 children (Chloe, The broen haired with The Plush toy AND little blonde GIRL (NOT Elizabeth) Old design)

Timothy

Son of one of The bullies

william's sister

William (Old design) The one you called Vincent

Steve

Plushtrap (Fnaf School design)

Shadow Freddy (High School design)

Renata's niece

Nightmare Bonnie (Fnaf School design)

Old Baby HK design

The girl inside the mangle (VERY old design)

Baby x Funtime Freddy fanchilds

Red bunny (Fnaf World)

Julia

Baby Fanchildren

Iris and rainbear (very old designs)

Kenny and hk mom (OLD design)

Cupcake (OLD design)

Springbonnie's fanchild

Bawn bawn and bonnet little age

Baldi's son (Old design)

Redbear

Puppet Old Child inside

Cajeta

Shelby's ex boyfriend (The one with red hair)

Phone guy (THE VERY OLD DESIGN)

VERY OLD DESIGN OF BRANDY (Black)

Lumy & shade

Bonnet (With vitiligo)

Old Vincent design with black hair

Oliv OLD DESIGN

yenndo (OLD DESIGN)

Female kenny

Thomas

Danny (Sallem and Tiffany's kid)

White Rabbit (Fnaf worldd

Kuromi (Red Rabbit, Fnaf world)

Young Renata

Young Eggs (2016, the one with the red striped shirtt)

Security (Fnaf worldd)

Jeremy (KS)

Jeremy Cyclops (FON)

Mike the knight (FON)

Angelica (a girl with black hair with pigtails and a blue shirtt, from They Shouldn't Know

Girl with Bonnie ears from Nights At Freddy's

Chris the puppet kidd

Dark Toastt

Erick (a character with blue and black hairr)

Frannie (TT)

Jaine (Renata's other neice)

Lydia

A boy with orange hair aand a girl with black hair from the Suicide Didn't Work video

An old Mike design (2014)

Tara (Vincent's sister)

An old Alex designn

Nightmare Freddy (Fnaf school designn)

Puppet x Ballora fankids

An old Alfred designn (with a green shirt and a blue hat)

Amatisaa (FON)

Abigail (the soul in Circus Baby in Sassy's Palace)

Stephanie (the soul in Bon Bon in Sassy's Palace)

Penelope (a student in Sassy's Palace)

Valen (a student in Sassy's Palace)

The people shown in the Machigera marketplace in the Beltren comic (everyone except the girl in the middle of the drawing)

The entirety of Ginny's crew that was with her when Beltren was killed (FON)

Ethan (the soul in Funtime Freddy in Sassy's Palace)

Shadow Freddy (old design)

Savy (a yellow rabbit that stood beside Tirsa in one image in FON)

The ruler of Treevelt with purple hair

One of Blurryface's kids (Sassy's Palace)

A humanized plush Foxy

Oliv's mom Old design

Oliv's sister

Yenndo OLD design

And to clarify, these characters will still be in my universe?

YES

But with a more elaborate design and clearly with other names, And some simply with other designs since I only sold ocs that didn't have much appearance And designs that will no longer be used for history Because they were already redesigned

I am unaware of the existence of many characters, if you remember any, you can ask me

[tsams-and-co-memes]

List of characters and who they’re voiced by

Last edited: 5/16/25 (note: idk if Mitch and Alexander are the same person, but they voice the same characters, and no one's clarified anything for me when I've asked, so until further notice, they'll be listed as different VAs who just happen to voice the same few characters)

I remembered Matt breaking character at one point and expressing that people keep crediting a different VA for one of the voices he does, so I figured I’d make something and share it to maybe help avoid any future confusion

If any of this is wrong or I forgot someone, feel free to let me know so I can correct it, and feel free to suggest additions for it, too!

Some of these are more obscure/gag/one time characters, but eh. I figured they were still worth mentioning

Davis:

Sun/all Sun variants (except Cringe Sun and Fem Sun/Sunny)

Monty/all Monty variants (both their masculine and feminine forms)

Solar/Eclipse/all Eclipse variants (except Fem Eclipse/Clipsie)

One of the Bloodmoon twins/“Bloody”

One of the AIs in Moon's computer

Solar Flare

FC

Taurus

Molten Freddy

Ruin

Henry Emily (the one that comes from TSAMS OG dimension)

Everett Larson

EAPS/MGAFS Andrew

EAPS Mimic

EAPS Lefty

EAPS Cliff (Monty's dad)

Roxas Wolf

EAPS Moon

Sundroid

FFNAF Eleanor

EAPS William Afton

FFNAF Chico

Novafrost (Nova specifically)

TSAMS Montgomery (old man Monty)

Reed:

Old Foxy, Trash Can Man, Forgor, Vincent, Neptor, Goliath, Blue and Green (Rainbow Friends), Wally Darling, BanBan, Karen, Gordon Ramsay, Blue Baldi, Huggy Wuggy, Venom, Nutella king (and servants), Glamrock Dogday, Muffin and Cleo, staff/map bots

Moon/all Moon variants (except Cringe Moon, EAPS Moon, and Fem Moon/Moonie)

Lunar/all Lunar variants

Creator/all creator variants

One of the Bloodmoon twins/“Harvest”

One of the AIs in his computer

Jack

KC

Castor

Rez

Moon killer!Sun

Atlas

Timer (I think??)

Novafrost (Frost specifically)

TSAMS old Glamrock Freddy

The devil from the bible, Catnap, Papyrus, The only Kmart employee, Pianosaurus, Glamrock Catnap

Kat:

Earth/all Earth variants

Dazzle

Pollux

Nebula

Libra (?)

Francine (formerly), Forgor, Miku, Monty’s mom, Daisy, Nedd, Noctyra

Matt: (up until 2/1/25)

Puppet/all Puppet variants

Foxy/Cringe Foxy

Cringe Sun

Cringe Moon

Leo

Francis

Frank

MGAFS Stitchwraith (both Jake and Andrew)

EAPS Jake

EAPS Moon

EAPS Lefty

EAPS Glamrock Bonnie

EAPS Mimic

Vincent, Keith, Derek, DogDay, Rambly, Vegeta, Monty’s dad

Kayk:

Circus Baby/all Circus Baby variants (as well as all of Circus Baby's alters, I'm assuming)

Roxanne/all Roxanne variants (except TEAPS Roxanne)

Vanny

Elizabeth Afton

Evan Afton

Toy Chica (formerly)

Old Ballora

Cassie

Austin:

Gregory

Tiger Rock

Rocky

Helpi

Lazy

Cassie’s dad

Ennard

Mario:

Glamrock Freddy

OG Freddy

Phantom Freddy

Shadow Freddy

Golden Freddy

Springtrap

Bon-Bon

Spring Bonnie

Shaggy

Toy Freddy

A mimic

Rob the staff bot

Digi:

Spring Bonnie

Glamrock Bonnie

Funtime Freddy

Nedd Bear

Springtrap

Kainabunny:

Fem Moon/Moonie

Mama Funtime

FFNAF Jaq

Libra

Fem Glamrock Freddy

Oddfox:

Glamrock Chica

OG Chica

Lolbit

Glamrock Mangle (?)

EAPS' dimension Charlie Emily

Mangle

Lady

Nightmare Chica

Lolbit's parents (both mom and dad)

Funtime Chica

Bonita

Alexander:

Frankie

Michael Afton

Mitch:

Jackie

Michael Afton

Frankie

Carrion (also spelled "Kerian")

Flora:

EAPS Glamrock Ballora

MGAFS Charlie/New Puppet

EAPS Roxanne

Fem Sun/Sunny

Fem Eclipse

Millie Gator

EAPS Mimic

EAPS Andy

Staffo

Darzeth:

Funtime Foxy

FluffyArtist:

Francine

ShadowGamingVA:

Toy Chica

Xylophoney:

Twisted Wolf

RWAGS William Afton

Tyler

[fazbears-horror-attraction]

May I request fictivi and kinnic flags/terms for Rambley, Mollie, and Lloyd from the mascot horror game Indigo Park? Thank you!

[ID: Four flags, the top two have Lloyd and the bottom two do not. The first and third flags are kinnic and the second and fourth flags are fictivi. The flags have seven stripes and the colors are oranges, reds and blue. End of ID ]

★ Lloydkinnic -> A term related to kinning Lloyd from Indigo Park!!!

★ FictiviLloyd -> A term related to being a fictive of Lloyd!

Creation date: 3 / 18 / 2024

[ID: Four flags, the top two have Mollie and the bottom two do not. The first and third flags are kinnic and the second and fourth flags are fictivi. The flags have seven stripes and the colors are blues, greens, yellow, and browns. End of ID ]

★ MollieKinnic -> A term related to kinning Mollie from Indigo Park!

★ FictiviMollie -> A term related to being a fictive of Mollie.

[ID: Four flags, the top two have Rambley and the bottom two do not. The first and third flags are kinnic and the second and fourth flags are fictivi. The flags have seven stripes and the colors are purples, red, off white, and black. End of ID ]

★ RambleyKinnic -> A term related to kinning Rambley from Indigo Park.

★ FictiviRambley -> A term related to being a fictive of Rambley!

[ID: transparent images of Lloyd and Molly. End of ID]

I try not to make transparents often anymore, but i decided to for fun this time, they're free to use!!!!

Tagging: @radiomogai

Note: Anyone can use my ( Mod Phantom ) terms. If you are on our DNI you can still use them, but please do not interact with our blog ( You may re-upload my flags to your hoard as long as you credit me, that is all i ask as i am aware of death of an author. You may also redesign my flags, but please credit and/or tag me. Thank you )

[darthstitch]

My Roman Empire will forever be Christine and Erik performing together, on stage.

Look, Christine has sung with her maestro before, okay? In practice, in their music lessons, in just the simple pleasure of singing and making music together.

But.

She wants Erik to be on stage with her. She wants everyone to see what she sees, past the mask and the mangled ruin of his face, gods, if she could, she would take his lasso and throttle the woman who had first made him hate himself so much. Her Erik deserves the world at his feet and so much more.

Even now, she treasures the tender look in his eyes when she calls him hers, and the swift press of his lips to the palm of her hand, sending that familiar and welcome thrill down her spine.

The stage of the Opera Populaire is empty save for the two of them, the seats below covered in cloth, awaiting the next performance.

"Sing with me, Erik, please?" She asks, letting mischief take hold of her.

"What, right here, right now?" There's amusement in his tone and Christine knows she has him. Just a little bit more...

"Yes! For what is La Daae without her leading man, her other half? She refuses to sing without him!" It's her best impression of La Carlotta which never fails to make Erik laugh, that adorable chortle that turns her Phantom back into the endearing little boy he should have been.

"As my diva commands, then."

Their voices soar in joyful harmony then, lost in each other, an enchanted little world of their own making.

It is a masterful performance they think is unwitnessed by anyone else.

Except for a couple of stagehands transfixed by the sight of Monsieur le Fantome and his lady, utterly enthralled by their song.

And one Raoul de Chagny, whose heart shatters into pieces.

[artists-ally]

{Weather} Reader x Azriel

Hello people! My name is Ally and I am proud to enter the ACOTAR world with a bang. I've been writing for years and years now and thought eh fuck it why not start posting it.

So here I am. 100% not expecting this to go anywhere but if it does, come give me a shout! I'd love to hear what y'all have to say about it or hear your ideas for fic recommendations.

There isn't a whole lot of plot, just a thought that turned into another and I connected them. Enjoy!

Word Count ~ 7,523

Warnings ~ Language, blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence/fighting, lets all pretend that you can winnow inside the House of Wind for a sec pls.

Summary ~ You have been encompassed into the Inner Circle after the Spring Court went to shit. During a dry stead between the Queens and Hybern, Azriel was sent on a mission to the Mortal Lands to see what was going on. There is little he can do to hide his rather harsh expedition. Set during ACOWAR, you provide a level of comfort for the shadowsinger that no one else is capable of.

~~~~~

All of us are sitting around the House of Wind, relaxing after another brutal day of training. I had been with Cassian, Mor with Rhysand and Feyre, Amren off doing Amren things. Azriel was… nowhere to be found. 

It’s been a few days since anyone has heard from him. We know he’s been spying in the Queen’s territory, but to not have a check in or for him to not come home to rest for days on end is concerning.

But what makes my gut churn is the smell of blood coming from upstairs. 

Azriel’s blood. 

Rhys and Cass get a whiff of their brothers' carnage and exchange a worried look with me. The three of us winnow up to his room and knock on his door.

“Az?” Cass says softly.

No response.

“Azriel, it’s Rhys, open the door,” Rhysand knocks a little harsher than Cassian had. 

No response. They can hear his labored breathing and groans, and the smell of blood. They didn’t bother to knock a third time. When his door unlocked on a phantom wind, the sight was horrifying. Az peered over his shoulder at the curse coming from Cass, and shook his head.

“I don’t want visitors,” he mumbled, trying to stand, but failing to do so. Rhys and Cassian rushed to his side, helping him sit back down. I remained in the doorway. Staring at his wings.

They were a little mangled to say the least. Cuts and scratches littered the delicate leather, some puncture wounds oozed trickles of blood and puss. 

“What in the name of the Cauldron happened?” Cassian demanded from the shadowsinger. 

“Tree snare, Mortal lands are littered with them,” He groaned. “I’m fine, please just- please leave.”

He never begged quite like that before. The desperation was a foreign thing to his tongue. He tried to straighten his spine, but it did no such thing. He hissed at the jarring of his wings, and settled into the curves of his hunched over position.

He looked awful. 

“Az, we can’t just leave you like this. We can get Madja in here-”

“No,” he plead again, tone more harsh than the last. “No… leave. I don’t want any help.”

Typical of Az to say such a thing. The quiet, reserved male was always so adamant about doing things on his own he forgot that sometimes it’s better to ask for help than to suffer in silence. Especially when it comes to such a delicate and sensitive body part. 

But alas, the two brothers nodded, stepping around the third and heading to the door. I moved out of their way, but not with them. I just continue to stare at his toned, berated back. 

“Yn…” he called out. “Don’t make me beg you too.”

I stiffened. 

I knew how hard this must be for him. To turn down his friends, to turn down aid. I don’t know Azriel very well, not like the others did after spending five centuries with him. But maybe that would… I don’t know

“I won’t say anything,” I promised. “Just let me clean you up, is all I’m asking.”

He sighed heavily, hanging his head in his hands, but he nodded. I quickly shut the door behind me and moved to the bathroom. Under his sink there was a little brown pouch with all kinds of medical supplies. I grabbed some towels and a bowl of hot water appeared by his feet. When I walked back into the main area, he had his chin fastened on his fist, looking out the big window. 

I stood next to him laying the open bag next to him so I could rummage through it. There were some wipes, some bandages and some thick cloth pads. I ripped open as many as I thought I needed and began to apply pressure to the wounds on his arms and shoulders. 

Az held a few while I drenched a cloth with the warm water and began to clean off the dirt and sap. 

He didn’t even seem to breathe, to even blink as I ran the cloth up and down his right arm, ditching it on the floor when it was too dirty to continue. I repeated my steps until the majority of him was clean. The bleeding had stopped for the most part and I applied an adhesive pad to the area to keep it covered. I couldn’t smell any infection on them so it was okay to conceal the wounds. Had there been a sticky, yellow goo then they would need to drain. 

Then I looked at his wings.

They weren’t shredded, but they were not in good condition by any means. They looked so painful.

I silently moved to the opposite side of the bed, kneeling into the mattress and spreading out more supplies.

“I-” he started, “please be gentle…”

“Of course,” I nodded, resting my hand on his shoulder to try and get them to relax. They sagged a bit, but didn’t stay there long. The second my fingers grazed the smooth flesh, he jumped.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled, retracting my hands. “What hurts?”

“No, no it’s not painful, just very sensitive, I’ll try to hold still,” he apologized, displaying his wings, stretching them out all the way as if to brace them against the bed. They were massive. And most of the small cuts and snags littered the top and middle of the span, not towards the bottom. 

“This might sting a little, if it’s too much, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

He nodded, clutching the tops of his knees. His breathing was hard as I dabbed the first cotton ball to the sore area. It had been rubbed raw from Mother knows what. 

There had to be hundreds of them, if not a thousand scrapes and scratches. But they all didn’t need tending to, they would heal just fine. There were a few that I was concerned about and applied something to keep the bacteria from spreading. 

I gently slid my hand to his shoulder, pressing it down from his ear, telling him it was okay, that he was alright. 

He listened, settling down. I knew he must be in a lot of pain. There wasn’t much that I could’ve done beside what I did, but I did as much as I could to ease the tension. I summoned another rag and gently cleaned the skin on his back, wiping the mud baked onto his skin. Az relaxed more at that.

“I know it’s not really my place to ask, but if you would like to share what happened, I will patiently listen, Azriel. If not, I’ll enjoy the silence with you,” I offered, my hands coming to his shoulders, massaging the thick muscle.

He groaned in satisfaction, dipping his head forward and sagging downward. His arms slumped to his side as I drove my knuckle between the fibrous strands. Az ground his teeth, breathing with every knot I worked from his body. I drove my thumb in and around the base of his wings, careful not to brush against them.

Cassian had once told how sensitive Illyrian wings were. Why they were so sensitive. It made my cheeks blush, which I was taunted for endlessly. 

Azriel sucked in a breath.

I had been too busy thinking about all the things Cass and Rhys had teased me with and my thumb slipped, brushing the delicate nerves at the base of his spine. I could see the goosebumps etch his bronze skin. 

“S-Sorry,” I stuttered, fingers trembling, struggling to resume. “Do you need anything else? Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

I stood before he had a chance to say otherwise. I didn’t, truly didn’t, mean to brush over the hyper-sensitive area. 

Azriel just looked up at me with full eyes. They looked like strangers, not the deep, fierce set of hazel that I had come to know. They were like the shadows that whispered in his ear. There hadn’t been a glimpse of them in the hour or so that I’d been here tending to him. It’s as if they’ve vanished. 

His eyes were bright, filled with his pupils in a way that made him seem feline. Like a true predator hunting in the pit of night. 

“I…” Az started, swallowing hard before his eyes darted between mine. “Will you stay? Please?”

He reached his hand to grab mine, and I let him, his warm, scarred hands engulfing mine. I nodded precisely, a smile playing on my lips. He seemed to deflate then, a weight being lifted off his shoulders and he dragged me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head against my stomach. 

I let my arms fall over his shoulders, the strands of his inky black hair finding its way into my fingers. I tangled it between my digits gently, letting the soft curls form as I brushed them away, repeating the process. 

I had no idea how long we stayed there for, but enough for the once dimly lit room to ignite with fae light as the sun set over the Sidra. 

Azriel began to tug me closer. I had no choice but to crawl into his lap, letting my weight rest over one of his legs as he clung to me. 

I didn’t dare try and break this moment. 

I nestled into the dip between his shoulder and neck, letting my eyes lull shut as his warm body did the same. I let my thumbs brush against the smooth skin on the back of his shoulder, wanting to press a kiss there, but… not my place, I reminded myself. 

I had always cared for the Illyrian more than the others had. Was always the one wondering if what his shadows were whispering were things to him or about him. I knew he had a traumatic pass, and I knew he suffered a great deal during the early years of his immortal life, but things were… they weren’t great, but we were in a lull. With Hybern. Things were stalled so we took this time to cut back.

Not Az. He was always spying somewhere, reporting on new territories siding with us or the King, but nothing more. We all knew he needed a break, but never took one. It was frustrating. 

He shifted on the bed, then I felt a gust of wind encase my body.��

His wings enveloped me entirely.

I had not expected it. I was shocked to say the least. I tensed for a moment, and he must have sensed it because he began to retreat.

“No, no” I said, adjusting myself on his muscular thigh for a moment. “Put them back.”

He answered with the leathery wings covering us completely. I settled into the warmth, the soft scent they admitted. I had never felt so safe in my entire life, so completely safe and comforted. 

I didn’t know a lot about Illyrian tradition since I had been encompassed into the inner circle, but I knew enough that it was a great honor to see a pair of wings up close, let alone touch them. If he had let me do that, gods only knew what this meant.

I felt a tear hit my shirt. I heard him sniffle, then hiccup in a breath.

“Azriel…” I breathed out slowly, gripping him tighter as he clung to me, the sobs wracking through his body. He gasped for a breath every now and then, the tears falling faster with every breath. 

He cried for a long while. I wasn’t even sure if he knew how to do that. To cry, to be vulnerable with anyone. 

“It’s okay, Az, I’m here, I’m right here Az it’s okay,” I soothed, twisting his hair around my fingers once again. His breathing seemed to even out at that, sobs reduced to trickling tears and sniffles. 

I didn’t know what to do. 

I didn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, he spoke. “I don’t know what you did, Yn… but you made the shadows go away. It is so quiet without their roar in my ear. In my bones… everything is silent. There are no whispers, no murmurs of potential threat. It is all quiet.”

My heart thundered in my chest so hard I thought it might break my rib cage. There were no words to describe the feeling in my body. I gripped him even tighter.

His hands stroked up and down my sides, gently nudging me to pull off. I did, meeting his glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His hand ever so gently came up to my face, fingers barely touching the surface of my skin as he looked into my eyes. So deep I thought he might see my thoughts. 

“Thank you,” was all he said. I nodded and smiled, tucking the hair behind his ears. “Besides Madja and my own mother, I have never let anyone touch my wings. Not even Rhys or Cassian. They are… my entire world. The most prized possession any Illyrian could hoist. They are my ticket to anywhere in the world and I let you touch them without a second thought.”

My eyes had widened at that. 

“In 500 years,” I gaped, “you’ve never let either of them touch your wings? Once?”

He shook his head, “Never. It is a privilege that few get to experience. Typically just mothers to their newborns, but once you learn to fly, you’re old enough to take care of them on your own. It becomes our responsibility to keep them safe and keep them clean. Of course there may be a medical need, but other than that, they are not to be touched. Only mates have that sacred right.”

My heart clenched. 

I’ve only been a part of this group since the middle of the war. I had left the Spring Court when Feyre had planted those lies. They spread to my territory and we all went our separate way. For the better. I chose to come and fight for what we all knew was right. I can’t say the same for the rest of my family. 

I had managed to hitch a few rides to Summer, right before Adrita was attacked. I fought alongside them, and none of them knew that I was from Spring besides Feyre. She had recognized me for the Tithe. We instantly connected and she offered me sanctuary with them while we fought against Hybern. I had exceptional knowledge of the Spring Court and The Wall, of who was going where and when. 

When we came back to Velaris, I was introduced to Amren, who just briefly looked up from that book, took a sip from a gauntlet, gave me a cold once-over, and went right back to the book. 

Nesta was much the same.

Elain hadn’t said much either, just asked me if I knew anything about the human lands. I was later informed on her betrothed. It made my heart hurt. 

Mor was undoubtedly my best friend. She really helped me get settled here in Velaris. She was the one to pick me up time and time again when I didn’t think I could go on. 

Rhysand was more of a gentleman than anyone painted him to be, especially all those years Under The Mountain. He was not a hostile homicidal maniac like Amarantha had painted for him. He was gentle, and kind, only being capable of those horrible things when he needed to be. 

Cassian was… well, Cassian. Big, strong, charming as ever. Dumber than a pile of rocks but a brute of a man nonetheless. He was my other best friend. My go-to drinking buddy and my favorite person to beat at cards. I would come with him and Nesta to Windhaven. He was not merciful. 

And then there was Azriel. He rarely spoke when he wasn’t prompted. He kept to himself, to those shadows, and wasn’t one for conversation. I had only spoken to him three or four times. Most of them during the war, once during Solstice to give him his gift. It was usually just… so, between us. 

Until now.

Until he let me touch his wings. 

Could it have been a possibility that-

As if he knew what I was thinking, “I didn’t know how to bring it up to you, Yn. I didn’t want to at first, cause I didn’t think you felt anything. Any type of bond. And I certainly didn’t want to bring it up right in the middle of the war, risk death, and then leave you alone forever. I couldn’t bring myself to leave you with that type of pain.”

My eyes stung. My heart thundered. Every fiber in my body became aware of just how close I was to him. I took in a deep breath, eyes blinking rapidly.

“If you… I don’t know if that is what you want,” he hesitated. “If I am what you want, but you are everything I’ve ever needed, Yn. You are the sunshine to my dark and hazy life. The only thing that can make my deep, roaring shadows disappear. Completely. It is calm and utterly silent when you are near. And when I get to hold you… Cauldron Yn, it is like a fresh breath of air. Like a torrential rain to my wildfire. It hasn’t been this quiet inside my body since the day I was born.”

There was nothing I could do to stop the tears from flowing. They hit the clothing between us, saturating the fabric and then drying. I didn’t know what to say. And I could tell that was killing him, my silence. He tensed beside me, gripping my arms a little tighter.

“Yn” he breathes, so softly. So gently than anyone ever had. 

I looked into his eyes, finding them to be so much more breathtaking than I did a little while ago.

“I don’t know what to say, Azriel,” I chuckled lightly. “I’m shocked, I just thought that you and Mor…”

“No,” he shook his head adamantly, “Not us. Not ever, I’m afraid. I spent a long time trying to… coax her, but she never budged. I decided I needed to look for someone else. For you.”

I smiled greatly. 

“Stay with me, tonight,” he grabbed both of my hands, placing kisses to each of them before folding them against his heart. “Let me give this to you, slowly, at your own pace. It is yours, Yn. It always has been. Let it be yours, if you choose.”

His eyes, glowing and begging me to say something. When he pressed his lips to my hands, I could feel my chest tighten in a way it hadn’t before, constrict around itself until it let loose and erupted from within. Everything I had hoped for, spent countless hours dreaming of, pestering my mother about stories of when she found out my father was her mate, came true at that moment. 

An unrelenting pull in his direction, a deceptively overwhelming feeling of trust and sureness that seemed to never end crashed through me. It was like I was looking at him for the first time. Like I opened my eyes and the first images I was blessed with seeing were of him, of Azriel, this shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court. 

A piece of a puzzle locked into place, one that I hadn’t even known existed yet. And here it was, front and center in my mind, so clear it almost blinded me. 

All I could do was smile. Smile and nod my head as I watched his teeth flash before he wrapped me up in his arms. He giggled, tossing me over his shoulder and rolling me around on his enormous bed. I laughed and laughed, letting him pepper my skin with kisses. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited for this, Yn,” He sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, clutching my fingers in the other. “How long I have needed a mate.”

“I think I might have an idea,” I smiled, tucking some hair behind his ear. He rolled his eyes, scooping me up and laying me on top of his chest.

Cauldron knows how long we stayed like that for, just talking and smiling at each other, kissing every now and then. When I grew too tired to keep my head up, his wings encased me again, that soft, musky scent circling around me. 

“Rest, my Yn,” he whispered, his arms coming around my waist. “We can talk all day tomorrow.”

+++++++

The sun made him look like the most perfect shade of bronze. His dark, inky hair was a mess over his eyes, his tattoos swirling across his shoulders. His wings were still folded around me, keeping my body pressed to his all night long. 

Azriel slept, another thing I wasn’t sure he actually knew how to do. 

I shifted my legs around, detangling them from his. He groaned, but let them go, only tightening his grip around my torso.

“Az,” I whispered, "we need to get up, training is in an hour.”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled, tucking his head beneath my chin. The hair on his head smelled like the Sidra; salty and lemony. So calming and soothing. I let him, and myself, have a few more minutes, just basking in each other. But I eventually did have to be the fun killer.

“I’m sure Cassian will understand if you don’t want to train today, but I unfortunately don’t have any excuse. I have to get ready and go eat before I go. Let me up, please.”

He let go reluctantly, making a big huff as I climbed away from him.

I laughed, “You know I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Yes, but I wanted to spend this morning with you. I want to spend all my time with you.”

My heart swooned. “Come to breakfast with me. Even if you don’t want to train you can still come and watch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but followed me nonetheless. I got changed into my fighting leathers, and Az strolled behind me to the dining room. I greeted everyone like I normally would, as did Azriel. They could instantly tell, because he wore a smile on his lips the entire meal, taking up the empty seat next to me, which normally was Mor’s.

When she strolled in, she gave him a high eyebrow and he shrugged. She looked at me and I had to suck my lips into my mouth to keep from cackling out. I mouthed ‘I'll tell you later’.

When I rose from my seat, so did Azriel, following me into the kitchen.

“When will you be back?” He asked softly, cradling me close.

“By noon, Mor and I have some work we need to do at Rita’s,” I responded, falling into his warmth. “Are you going to be alright here?”

He nodded against my shoulder, “I just don’t want you to go, is all. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

My heart sank at that. I was just happy to offer him at least some moments of rest in his utterly chaotic life. If I was able to give him any sort of relief, I’d stop at nothing to make sure that he has access to it whenever he pleases. Who was I to deny him of that?

He stepped away, pressing his lips into my forehead a few times. 

“Have a good training session, please don’t get beat up too bad, I have plans for later,” he smiled, rubbing the sides of my arms.

“Oh?” I tilted my head.

“It’s a surprise, now get going, Cass is waiting for you.”

“Don’t blow a gasket when I come back with bruises from him,” I chuckled. 

He straightened, real concern coming into his eyes. “Maybe I should come-”

“No, no I’ll be okay,” I explained. “Cassian has beat my ass more times than I could count and you were able to hold it in. I’ll be fine, it’s never anything too bad anyway, nothing I can’t handle. I'd really rather not see you bash his face in because he got in a couple of good shots.”

That didn’t make it any better. His grip tightened, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. 

“Hey!” Cassian called from down the hall. “Put your lover's quarrel on hold, we gotta go, Yn. If you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’ll make you go up and down the steps every second you’re late.”

I rolled my eyes, impatient bastard.

“I need to go,” I said, removing his hands from my body. “I will come find you when I’m back. Try and relax, okay? I’ll be fine, you know that.”

He just nods briefly before stepping out of the way to let me pass. He caught my elbow at the last second, kissing me so intensely I thought I might fall over. When he let me go, he was smirking like a cat. 

++++++

The bond must have already been slipping into place because I could feel this agonizing pull back to the House of Wind. But it also felt like he was right here with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was spying from the shadows, something for him and I to talk about later.

Cassian and I had gone through our normal workouts, doing footwork drills and some strength training. But of course, even after almost collapsing to the floor himself, he wanted to spar. 

“Can’t we just skip it for today?” I begged, rolling my head to look at him. 

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “You need more practice, and I know it’ll come in handy against Hybern. If you ever find yourself without a weapon, all you’ll have is your fists. And seeing the look on Az’s face will be priceless.”

“You know,” it wasn’t really a question.

“I’ve known before he has,” Cassian huffed. “I pointed it out to him after about three times of you being near him. His shadows always disappeared and I found him staring at you. He didn’t even realize, said that he hadn’t even noticed things were quiet because he was too busy thinking of you.”

My heart lurched in my chest, filling with pride and triumph. “I don’t know what it is that I do.”

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “That is the whole point of being a mate, things just simply work.”

“I have given it a ton of thought in the past, about what it would feel like to have a mate, to have a bond with someone. It’s… so much different than I expected it to be. I miss him so much more than I thought I would. I thought I’d be able to ignore it, but I can’t.”

“Welcome to having a mate,” Cassian snickered, taking up a fighting stance. I followed suit, circling around him and dodging his blows. I wasn’t lucky enough to escape them all, one particularly hard kick sent me to my knees, and then Cassian was on top of me. 

He flatten me like a bug and flipped me on my back. His forearm pressed into my throat, cutting off oxygen. I coughed, blood rushing to my face, my vision darkening. 

“Come on, Yn, what have I taught you to do?” he pressed further into my esophagus. I drove my knee as hard as I could into his crotch, causing him to hiss, loosening his grip, faltering. 

I smacked him as hard as I could in the face, sending him toppling to the ground. It had been hard, harder than I really meant to. I could see his eyes darken as he rose to his feet, really wanting a challenge now. He started to run towards me, and I braced myself for the impact, but it never came. 

I saw a shadow blurr by and Cassian was vaulted 12 feet in the air. He made a dent in the earth as he drove through the soil. In seconds, he was encased in tendril like smoke. One that I recognized all too well.

“Az-”

“I am going to kill you,” the voice was so foreign. Azriel straddled Cassian as he held him up by the collar of his shirt. “How dare you put your hands on my mate.”

I climbed through the ropes of the ring as fast as I could, jumping down and off the platform. I sprinted the distance between us as fast as I could. I screamed his name, but couldn’t hear me over the roar of the shadows. 

Before I could get there, Cassian had thrown him off and was ready to fight. The two went at each other so hard I was genuinely worried that Azriel was going to hurt him. I didn’t know what else to do, so I took off towards the townhouse. 

I barged in the door, huffing puffing, and red faced as the door smacked off the wall. 

“Cauldron alive, Cassian, how many times have I told you not- Yn?” Rhysand’s eyes immediately softened. “Are you alright?” “I was sparring with Cassian and Azriel came out of nowhere,” I rushed, barely able to speak over my labored breathing. “Last night he told me I’m his mate and I think he might actually kill-”

“Oh shit,” Rhys cursed, grabbing my arm and winnowing us both to the sight. They were still scrapping, both bleeding from the face. Azriel looked like an animal, and Cass looked like he was genuinely afraid. I haven’t ever seen him look like this, either of them. 

Rhys threw himself in the middle, trying to get Azriel’s attention. He paid no mind to his High Lord, throwing him off his back as he lunged for Cassian again. I went to step in, to try and get his attention but-

“Yn no,” Rhysand shouted from a few feet away. That caught Azriel’s attention quickly. He looked up from where he had Cassian in a chokehold, eyes locking with mine. In a second, he vanished from Cass and appeared behind me. His arms were strong and tight around my middle. A snarl ripped from his chest as Cassian rose to his shaky feet. 

His shadows encased us, creating a shield. He took staggering steps back, inhaling and exhaling so hard I thought he might pass out. Rhysand moved to check on his brother, Cassian battering him away as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“Azriel,” I said through a hurried breath. “Az it’s me, it’s me.”

He inhaled deep, scenting the air, letting out a deep breath. His grip loosened and he said my name like an old forgotten prayer. 

The shadows vanished immediately, his heavy body leaning against mine. 

“Yn…” he breathed, turning me around. I shrugged his hands off of me, more than pissed at him for barging and attempting to kill his brother. 

“Go inside,” I said, turning away from him. 

“Yn please-” “I don’t wanna hear it from you,” I shouted, eyes blazing. He took a small step back, ears flattening back against his head, wings tucking in tightly to his body. 

“That’s right, shadowsinger, go back-”

“Not another word from you either,” I snarled at Cassian. He, too, jumped in his skin. “You have nothing to brag about either. Don’t you dare put your hands on my mate like that again.”

Silence rippled around us. Rhys lifted his hand, opened his mouth to say something, but the glare I sent him had him scratching the back of his head quickly. 

“I swear to the Mother that if anything happens while I’m with Mor at Rita’s, I’ll kick all of your asses myself. And don’t think for a second that I won’t drag Feyre into this either.”

That was more than enough to get the Illyrians to look the other way, words forgotten in their minds. I turned on my heel and grabbed my water from the corner before stalking off down the street to find Mor. 

++++++

“He just appeared out of thin air?” Mor’s eyes were wide.

I nodded, “It was like he was waiting for something to happen. He would have killed Cassian, I’m sure of it, if Rhys hadn’t been there, and said my name to snap Az out of it.”

“Sounds like someone needs a little time alone with their new mate,” Mor’s eyebrows waggled on her forehead. I smacked her arm and she boomed a laugh. “I’m just suggesting.”

“It hasn’t even been a day since he told me, Mor, and he’s acting like he owns me. Rhys didn’t dare do this with Feyre,” I shook my head. 

“Well,” she countered. “Rhys did almost kill Cassian once.”

“I know, I’ve heard the story a million times,” I sighed. “But that was after the Weaver and all that. They had mated and had time for the bond to be in place. There weren’t any problems until that and Az and I have barely kissed a handful of times. That’s it. How can he be this… territorial?”

“Az is unexplainably protective. Of all of us. Before you came along he was like that with all of us. In a different way, but… he’d never let any of us volunteer before he looked into it or did it himself. It is rooted deep within him, in a way none of us will understand.” “Even so, it doesn’t make it okay for him to do what he did.” “I don’t disagree,” she added, “but just try and understand where he is coming from. Yn, you are the only one who he has come across that can make his head silent. To stop the shadows and the constant whispers. I don’t know about you, but if that were me, I’m sure I’d do everything in my power to make sure nothing ever happens to my peace and quiet.”

+++++

When I came back with More, she bid me good luck before Winnowing herself back down to the Townhouse.

I came to the main dining room, Cassian, Rhysand and Feyre all sitting at the table. 

“Okay, what the hell happened today?” Feyre demanded, noticing the bruises on my neck. 

“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” I snorted, letting down my shields so she could see it all. She flinched slightly when Az landed a particularly brutal blow to Cassian’s face. It sent blood spewing from his mouth.

“Has anyone seen him?” I asked with a sigh. No one answered, but I heard something. I whipped my head from side to side, this deafening roar in my ears. 

“What?” Rhysand asked. 

“You all don’t hear that?” I asked, eyes wide as I searched for the thunderous sound. I listened deeper and deeper, not hearing any words. I suddenly felt a chill in my bones so cold I thought I’d freeze right there. There were so many voices and whispers. 

I looked up to the set of grand stirs and noticed the shadows lurking at the top. 

Azriel… 

I sprinted up the stairs, the tendrils leading me down the hall and to his room. When I opened the door, the room was almost pitch black, shadows swirling around and around like an endless storm over the Sidra. 

I tried to push my way through, but I rebound off of it like a shield. I tried again, screaming his name. He was in the center. And I had no way of getting to him. I began to panic, shouting for him louder and louder.

Nothing, no response from my shadowshinger. I took a deep breath and shoved my body against the wall, bouncing off of it immediately. I slammed hard against the floor, back groaning as I pushed myself to all fours. I tried to crawl, but it was no use, it flung me back and into the hallway where Ryhs, Cassian, and Feyre were all standing, Mor popping up next to her.

“What the fuck-” Mor gasped, seeing it for herself. 

“He’s in there,” I heaved, “Mor I can’t get to him what do I do?”

She was at a loss for words and Rhys slid beside her, taking it all in. He did nothing to hide his wide eyes and frantic look. His own shadows rose and tried to comfort the tempest, but failed. The roar in my ears grew so loud I couldn’t hear whatever Rhysand said to me. I tried to read his lips, follow the bond.

I felt deep inside, it was so cold. If I didn’t know any better I wouldn’t have known anything was there at all. I pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled. I must have screamed because everyone around me flinched. I went slack against the wall and covered my ears, calling out for Azriel. Begging for him to come to me. 

A flicker. I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest. Against my soul, I felt a tug, as if he too was pulling on the same thread that ties us together. I pulled faster and faster until I slammed into something so hard I gasped. 

It was rock solid, something so impenetrable, like magic itself. I beat on it with everything I had, prying at it with my whole being until it began to give away. I tore this wall apart, it grew warmer and warmer-

She doesn’t want a mate, she doesn’t want me…

There is no meaning if I do not have her to protect, she doesn’t want me to protect her.

Useless, dumb, bastard born Illyrian filth.

Rhysand and Cassian should have left you in that acid bath and left you to dissolve into nothing. They should not have saved someone so vain and cowardly.

These were not my thoughts, but they sure felt like it. I looked towards the swirling wind and shadow, finally seeing Azriel at the center, crumbled to the floor, hands over his ears. 

“Azriel,” I shouted. He didn’t move.

“What’s happening?” Rhysand asked, helping me to stand on my feet.

“I-I don’t know I just felt this rush of thoughts and now I can see him but he can’t hear me,” I felt the tears in my eyes. He looked around, as if searching for his own thoughts, but then he stood rigid, throwing a glance at Cassian. They seemed to share a thought before Rhys turned back to me. 

“Speak in your mind,” he said hurriedly. “You have to talk to him in your mind.”

“Wha-”

“Just do it,” he urged, and I turned back to face the raging storm. 

Azriel… I whispered. 

I watched him flinch, hand bracing on the corner of his bed. His eyes and cheeks were wet with tears when they met mine. 

Yn… 

Az you have to take this down so I can get to you, I begged, it’s too strong for me to get through let me in.

He went silent.

Az please let me in. I can make the shadows go away, remember? I can make all of this go away, you just have to calm it down enough for me to get to you.

I can’t.

Why?

I am the shadows, and they are me.

“What is he saying?” Rhysand asked. 

“He just said he can't tame them, that he is the shadows and they are him,” I shook my head, threading my fingers in my hair. “I can help him but I can’t get to him.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, eyes wary.

“With my life, High Lord,” I said, because it was true. 

He grabbed my hand and the familiar hollowness of winnowing encased me. He tried to drop me right next to Az, but it seemed to be warded. I was instantly flung away from him and hit the wall so hard I saw stars. Feyre came to my side immediately as the bright light in the hallway dimmed. 

I forced myself up and boiled with rage. How dare he, my mate, keep me from him. I trudged forward, a small limp to my gate but I kept on pressing, despite the protests from behind me. I came to the whirling wind and shadow, staring at it. 

I placed my palm against it and closed my eyes. 

I know this is you, shadowsinger. These shadows, this wall… but it is not Azriel, not my mate. He would never keep me away. He’d want me right next to him, holding him as we weather this storm together. I know you are one in the same, and I know I make you go away and you are angry. He is the shadows, and you are him. I am his mate, meaning he is a part of me. I am the sun that casts the shadows you need. I am the maker of your shadows. Without one there cannot be another, without my mate there is no one to harness your strength. Let me in, let me cast the sunshine so that your shadows may sing once again.

There was almost a noise of discontent before the roar in my ear withered away. It disbanded like fog in the early spring mornings. The wind and shadows misted away, the room and hallway no longer swirling in a veil of darkness. 

In the center of the room shook Azriel, arms trembling as he looked around at the sudden brightness. 

I didn’t know I even gave my feet permission to move until I was collapsing into his lap. I hiccuped a sob so hard I thought my lungs burst open. 

Azriel buried his face into my neck, breath just as ragged. I cried uncontrollably, crushing him with my arms, I’m sure. 

I felt warmth and tenderness encase my body. I felt a tap against my shields and I let them down, welcoming Az’s shadows without a second thought. His thoughts became mine, and vice versa. There wasn’t a part of us in that moment that wasn’t connected. Our minds, our hearts, our souls seemed to tangle in each other. 

It must’ve been a long while before we detangled because everyone had left. 

I, begrudgingly, pulled myself from him, sitting up to look at his tear stained face.

“Don’t you dare do something like that ever again,” I breathed, resting my forehead against his. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be that harsh with Cassian-”

“What?” I asked, brows knitting together. “No no no, not that, whatever the hell that shadow wall was.”

“You’re not mad at me for beating the shit out of Cassian?” He asked, equally as confused.

“Well,” I sighed. “I’m not happy about it, but for the love of the Mother if you ever shut me out like that again, when I break through, I will kill you.”

It was a promise so deep even he knew it was true. He just nodded, kissing both of my cheeks before my lips. 

“I’m sorry, Yn,” a tear trickled down my face. “I saw Cassian choking you and on top of you and it blinded me with a rage so unexplainable. I don’t even remember doing it. It was an afterthought by the time I came out of it. And you looked so infuriated at me I just- I panicked. It had been so quiet for a good while it was like I forgot about the shadows entirely and they took over my being. It was so foreign and strange and they rained down upon me with such vengeance-”

“I know, I know,” I said, combing his hair with my fingers. “We… had a talk. We came to an agreement.”

“Agreement? A bargain?” he asked, a little concerned. 

I shook my head, “no, not a bargain. We just saw eye to eye on things. A favor, I guess you could call it.” I let the words I had once spoken filter into his mind. Azriel had this starry look in his eyes when the words were over with. 

“You talked to the shadows…” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “H-How did you-”

“Rhys tried to winnow me to you but it must’ve been warded because the next thing that I knew was the wall against my back,” I hissed as his hands crept up my shoulder. His touch was featherlight as he examined, lifting up my shirt to reveal the bruises forming along my spine. 

“Yn… Yn I am so sorry I hurt you…” his eyes feel so dark, I worried for a second that another tempest was coming. 

“No, Azriel look at me,” I grabbed his face between my hands and made him look up at me. “This was not your fault. You and the shadows are not the same thing. You two, like I said, may share the same being, but you are not your shadows. You are Azriel, my Azriel.”

The color came back to his eyes almost instantly. There was a new set of tears in his face as he landed on my chest, arms tightening around my waist. 

“Thank you, Yn… for seeing me, not just the shadows.”

[happybird16]

drabble that suddenly had to come out of me no matter what

Aot finale spoilers, talks of scars and wounds, self-doubt

“Do they ever hurt?” you ask softly, meeting his soft silvery eye with yours.

Levi shrugs unevenly in response, replying vaguely, “Sometimes I get phantom pains. Like they’re still there.”

Gently clasping his hand between yours, you bring his fingers to your lips, tenderly kissing all the little calluses and even the smooth, flawless skin at the tip of each of his fingers. You appreciate every little white knick of a healed scar, savoring the unique texture and history they hold. His nails are perfectly trimmed, and the long digits are almost bony, with knuckles jutting out from his skin and veins visible in trailing blue lines along his palm, resembling twisting rivers.

One by one, you kiss each and every finger until you reach the uneven stubs where his index and pointer fingers used to be. The area is still flushed a dark, upsetting red that makes your chest ache. Despite the passing years, the skin remains rough and sore-looking. Carefully, you lean forward, eyes locked to his. You hear his breath hitch as you oh-so-carefully press the softest of kisses to the stub of his index finger.

“D-don’t,” he breathes, shifting slightly in his seat in embarrassment. Something lingers in the soft grey-blue of his eye, something like embarrassment and shame. “They’re ugly.”

“They’re not,” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his shorn digit. “You’re beautiful, remember? No matter what.”

Levi takes a long, shuddered breath, his shoulders heaving with the strength of his sigh. It’s almost like he deflates a bit, the metal of his wheelchair creaking loudly as his feet shift. His face twists, the large now-mostly-white scar standing out against the pale skin of his cheek. His deadened eye can still move, instinctively tilting up to match the other as his eyes meet yours. “’m not,” he mutters quietly, hissing in pain as he shifts his injured knee. “I- I’m so weak now,” he confesses, his voice laced with frustration and pain.

It’s something he’s complained about quite a few times since the end of the final battle. Not only did he sustain injuries, but the end of Ymir’s curse had also extinguished the Ackerman strength flowing through his veins. He has mentioned feeling empty and hollow, almost fragile in comparison. His slower healing is evident from the still reddened skin of his mangled fingers.

Rising up from your knees, you press a quick kiss to the scar along his cheek. “We’re free now,” you assure him earnestly. “It’s a whole new world. We’re not soldiers anymore, and you don’t have to bear the burden of being the strongest. You have already proven your worth countless times.”

As you speak, your fingertips gently brush back the length of his bangs, exposing his forehead. With utmost care, you place another soft kiss right between his eyebrows, dissolving the tension held there. Then another. And another. Each kiss conveys a message of love and acceptance, a reminder that his worth extends far beyond physical strength.

Levi’s breath hitches again, this time from a mixture of relief and vulnerability. The sound is a bit wet, and there’s a telling moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. He struggles to find the words to respond, mouth opening and closing several times as his shoulders stiffen once again. His eyes, one vibrant and the other dulled by past wounds, seek yours, their depths reflecting the emotions he struggles to express.

“‘m not,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of pain and self-doubt. The fingers of his free hand instinctively reach for his injured knee, a reflex born from habit and discomfort. His voice sounds so small and hollow, “I- I’m broken.”

“No,” the word comes out sharper and louder than you intended, startling the both of you. “No. No you aren’t.” Your hand gently caresses his, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance. “Strength doesn’t define you,” you emphasize, your voice filled with conviction. “And your injuries don't either. I know you feel different now.. powerless.. but you possess a strength that transcends physical abilities. It’s in your resilience, your compassion, and the love you carry within you. That strength will always shine through, no matter what.”

A long, shuddered breath escapes Levi’s lips as he absorbs your words. His shoulders, burdened by the weight of his perceived weakness, begin to ease. The metal of his wheelchair creaks as his feet shift unsteadily. He swallows heavily, eyes falling from yours to stare at the fabric of the dark slacks covering his thigh.

Pinching his chin between your fingers, you urge his gaze to meet yours yet again. “We’re building a new life together,” you continue, a hint of playfulness entering your voice. “We’re not soldiers anymore. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders. Instead, let’s focus on chasing out those rude customers from our little tea shop. And if you ever say anything self-deprecating again, well, I’ll be there to shower you with kisses until you realize just how incredible you are.”

Levi’s lips curve into a small, vulnerable smile, the barriers of self-doubt slowly crumbling away. The moisture in his eyes finally spills over, tracing glistening paths down his cheeks. “You would,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with fondness and amusement.

[express-archives]

chat i. destruction!artemis on the brain. i think she has chronic migraines and inexplicable phantom pains everywhere because something tells me there's a certain point where aeonic power becomes too much for someone to bear and just starts having negative effects. considering that, at this point, artemis would be:

a denizen of abundance

an ex-emanator of the hunt

a pathstrider/emanator (ask me again later idk yet 😔🙏) (both are DEVASTATING either way) of the destruction

...i feel like her soul is so irreparably mangled by all three of these aeons that she just has pain all the time.

[cat-mentality]

Forget socializing what do you mean Jaiden has WINGS ?????? I'm frowning at the mouth about the implications of this to literally everything else.

Jaiden's wings are beautiful.

They shine in the sun, so very colorful, matching her new hair color in a way that is bizarrely fitting for her personality.

Everyone gasps when they see it for the first time. Eyes wide, mouths open in shock before they start gushing compliments, a few hands lift just a little before being pulled down- The instinct to touch is always there but the respect for her triumphs over it.

Her own smile is shy at first, eyes darting around to see everyone's reaction, to try to predict what they think, what they feel.

She keeps the wings tucked close at first, until the compliments wash away her worries and she lets them stretch further, revealing the way the colors blend together.

Her smile is as bright as the sun.

Jaiden feels free, for the first time in a very long time.

(Bobby was the only and last person who saw her wings.

Not even Roier had seen them.

Jaiden doesn't know why.

Doesn't understand the urge to keep them hidden, to keep them protected.

Doesn't understand the way she tenses when someone gets too close, how she holds her breath waiting for a touch that the logical side of her knows is not coming, that even if it does come it will be with her permission and with utmost care.

Nothing ever happened to her wings right?)

Philza freezes a smile on his face.

He compliments Jaiden as does everyone else but there is something off on his voice and he cannot bring himself to care, to change it.

(Philza is keeping too much hidden already, he doesn't know if he could deal with more without blowing up.)

He hopes they are too distracted by her to look too much into him. He doesn't want them to see his eyes, the way they shine with tears for a few moments before he pushes it down with familiarity.

He downplays his own feelings, his own reactions.

Philza doesn't elaborate on what "fucked by the Island" means. He can't.

He can't talk about how they hurt. How he knows they have been plucked without any sort of care but to cause harm and to take away their ability to fly, how there are empty spaces on his wings where no feathers have grown even if it's been months, how he can still feel the phantom sensation in them, how much it aches and burns in random moments.

How he can't bear to look at himself in the mirror with them in the open because he doesn't recognize the mangled mess the Federation made of them.

Philza hates how envy burns inside of him.

How something ugly twist in his chest and his first urge is to scream at Jaiden. Is to ask "why", why are her wings perfect, why is she allowed to fly, why didn't they mutilate her as well?

Somehow discovering that he was the only one to be punished like this stings in a raw way he cannot properly explain.

It's not fair.

It's not fucking fair.

How much can this cursed Island take from him until there is nothing left?

Baghera looks at Jaiden's wings and her first instinct is to flinch. Is to hide herself in a corner to fight the urge to hide inside of her own mind again, shaking from something she can't name.

Her whole body aches.

Her whole body hurts.

Her own wings, firmly and safely hidden behind layers of clothing, feel like they have been flayed.

(They had been, once.

Baghera is nauseous at how familiar the sensation is )

She can feel cold hands grabbing her feathers, she can taste her own blood as she once bitten her tongue because screaming always seemed to amuse It, she can feel the pain as the feathers are plucked with mechanical detached violence, she can almost see the raw spots left behind.

Baghera shakes and shakes and suddenly she is a little girl a misbehaving experiment all over again watching as others walk around with their perfect wings as she hunches in a corner with her bandaged body.

(Your fault.

Your fault.

Your fault.

Your fault.

A mechanical voice chants inside her head, half memory half not.

Why couldn't you be perfect like her?)

She can't look at Jaiden's wings.

Quackity looks at this strange with her colorful wings and he is hit with such familiarity it hurts.

He knows those wings.

His brain hurts every time he looks at her, like there is something pounding from the inside, some memory screaming to be remembered and as much as he tries he simply cannot bring it to the surface, just has this feeling like the answer is in the tip of his tongue but he has forgotten how to form words.

His own wings stir from their binding and he pushes down the urge to release them as well.

He can't.

He can't.

He can't.

He doesn't know why though, he doesn't understand the need to keep them to himself, to keep them safe where no one can see let alone touch them.

But he sees the scars on them when he dares to look into a mirror, sees the empty spaces where new feathers refuse to grow and he remembers very well the sensation of a cold hand holding into his feathers- Not a threat, a promise, a reminder.

Quackity dips his head into the cold water of his pool and wonders why he can't forget about the pain too.

(El Quackity watches in the cameras as the blue bird stretches her wings for the first time since they are kids and smiles to himself, amused by reasons none of the workers could hope to understand.

His own wings are visible as well, bright yellow and perfect as they can be.

He wonders if she has any idea of what she did to gain her's back.)

[chaninfused]

ALWAYS IN THIS TWILIGHT • BC • a fallen goddess and every piece of herself she'd given to her beloved; angst; a somewhat toxic dynamic; fantasy; mentions of war; brief descriptions of gore and blood; 793 words.

If Chan would ask you for the sky and every little star in the infinite cosmos, you would hand them to him in a breath’s spell.

Yet, there he was, earnest and sincere as his eyes fluttered once, twice. Hesitant, perhaps. Regretful, like those of a man who had spent a fortune on the most joyous night of gambling.

You wanted to laugh, or cry, or both.

‘Your eyes, only.’

He was asking so little of you.

“I’m sorry.” Chan slumped to his knees at the foot of your shrine, fingers digging into the dirt as he brought his head low. He was a broken willow tree, and you, his torn moon.

“My love, don’t be,” a voice that was everywhere and nowhere at once, a declaration for the universe and a murmur only he heard. You reached a phantom hand to lift his chin from his dampened palms.

His shoulders trembled like leaves in a cruel wind, his tears a silent river that wreaked destruction in its path toward you, killing the ever-living essence in your ethereal existence.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” the words that left his lips were a mangled prayer that seemed to be deaf to your speech. There was nothing for him to be sorry for. Hadn’t you ripped your beating heart out of your chest for him before?

“Dearest…” you traced his features with the ghost of your fingers, watching his darling eyes flutter shut for the first moment of respite in years. His face—beautiful, broken, human—was one you knew from a thousand centuries past, when you first fell to the mortal realm and found yourself imprisoned upon this holy hill.

Chan was the human king who chased your fallen star, then with his many knights and subjects, erected this grand shrine for you to live in. He was kind, and his golden heart made him precious even to one forsaken such as yourself. You loved him, and by some heavenly jest, he loved you in return.

That was his sin—loving you, who had been banished from heaven, a love greater and mightier than the wildest storms. A love of which your kin deemed you undeserving, for your palms were tainted black with the divine blood of another.  

Yet, when the sky hailed with fire and heaven opened its doors to reclaim you, Chan stood in defiance, a sword of earthly steel in his grasp and a cosmic fury in his gaze. In the cage of his mortal flesh, your immortal heart beat, lending him the strength he so brazenly sought.

The war that ensued from his rebellion was one of a thousand centuries. For as long as he lived a human with a god’s heart, you were tethered to this realm. And he fought to keep it that way.

When your brethren stole his sword-wielding hands, you gifted him yours, divine so that he may strike with the force of every sun and every moon. When they severed the legs by which he stood before them, resentful, you offered him yours so that he may rise forever unhindered. And when they pierced his chest and he bled crimson rivers, you poured your blood for him, oceans so that his heart may never again grow athirst.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t—”

The words that refused to leave Chan’s lips were heard by the heart of yours that beat in tandem with his.

‘Forgive me for my selfishness, for I cannot part with you. Forgive me, my love, for I cannot see you anymore.’

You brushed your thumbs over his closed eyes. His lashes were adorned with shimmering tears, strokes of liquid stars across his cheeks. Your most beloved’s vision had been taken from him by those seraphic hands, and there was no doubt in your mind as to what you had to do.

You touched the phantom of your forehead against his and closed your eyes, speaking a song of a thousand angels, “Go.”

“Wait! No—! Please, don’t—”

Chan’s eyes snapped open, and he attempted to push you away. Barely, softly, because he could never think to use any real force against you. But it was too late. The vision that he now gazed upon you with was that of a god, vast, boundless, true.

It made him double over, anguished beyond comprehension.

“No, no! Take it back, please! Y/n—!”

‘I don’t wish to do this to you anymore. You’ve got nothing left. You'll become nothing—’

You pressed your lips against the heap of his soft curls to silence his rampant mind. In truth, you could only smile, for you found no greater joy than in giving yourself away to him.

“Go and end this war, my love.”