seeyoumondaydevi · 1 year ago
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Something interesting, useless but interesting about daxton is that they used their songs (Fire for you and Heatwaves) in other daxton scenes too apart from the kisses 1x08 and 2x09. The only ship on the show which had this treatment (like I said it’s useless info but still)
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bthemistake · 1 year ago
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Managed to find some old art and came across an old drawing of the We Are Robin crew. Might do a redraw at some point, I've definitely improved since :)
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queenpiranhadon · 9 months ago
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A/N: UGHH IM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SO CAUGHT UP WITH EXAMS I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO POSTTT. Anyways here's chapter nine :D. This chapter is written by the lovely Nyota (@labaguetteisdabest). You can find the masterlist here
Warning(s): Apex gets panic attacks (kinda), mentions of death
Pairing(s): Kaepex
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Three Days Later... 
I snack on an apple I discovered I had, at some point, packed in my bag, and flip the pages of one of my favorite books. 
But the excitement flowing through my veins keeps me from focusing all the way. 
Clip clop. 
Clip clop. 
Clip clop. 
The rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves had become reassuring by now. It tells me that we’re on track and that everything is fine. 
Totally fine. 
But there’s still something nagging at me. It feels... weird that there’s no other carriages traveling this route. This one isn’t the most popular, but it’s commonly used. 
So, then, why is there no one here? 
The carriage begins slowing down. I peek out the window, delighted to see the lush gardens and pristine pathways that surround the palace I call home. 
Burgunjax Palace. 
The carriage stops moving, and I hear Avior jump down to open the door for me. I grab my bag, sling it over my shoulder, and adjust the red vest I’m wearing. 
Once the blond knight opens the door, I hop down, my black boots thumping against the cobblestone. 
I look ahead and I feel a smile spread across my face. 
Home, I think. Finally. 
The palace looks just like when I left. The same white bricks, the same colorful mosaic window on the largest tower that shows the Pyracent crest (a golden crown with a flame in the center; simple, I know), the same red-roofed towers... 
But it’s eerily quiet. 
Too quiet for a wild 11-year-old boy who’s probably overly excited to receive his Reya. 
What shocks me the most is that the drawbridge is open. … My parents would never leave it open. 
Something’s not right. 
Avior says something I don’t hear and walks off. I begin to walk towards the palace. 
Something rustles in the bushes behind me. I whip my head towards the noise, but there isn’t anything there. 
I step in the palace warily. 
“Hello?” I call, uncertainty lacing my voice. 
My footsteps echo through the halls as I make my way to the throne room. 
No one. 
The kitchen? 
No one. 
The maids’ quarters? 
No one. 
The stables? 
No one. 
I rush up the stairs, worry flooding my veins, my heart racing. 
“Is anyone up here?” I try to disguise the shakiness of my voice, but it doesn’t work too well. My voice is still noticeably shaky. 
Covyn’s room? 
No one. 
It's messy, as if someone trashed it and bolted away so they weren’t caught in the act. 
And while the Covyn I knew was young, I feel like he would never mess up his room this badly. 
Daxton’s room? 
It's a long shot, but maybe he came back for a visit while I was gone? 
No one. 
My parents’ room? 
No one. 
“Where is everyone?” I ask aloud. My eyes begin to water. 
It feels like I’ve been abandoned. 
They all knew I was returning soon. 
The letters I exchanged with my parents and Covyn said that he was counting down the days. 
So why is no one here? 
Is this a cruel joke? 
I hate feeling like I've been abandoned, thanks to my older brother, Dax. 
I rub at my eyes gently, careful not to irritate my burn. 
But the emotions overwhelm me, take control of me, and I fall to my knees, trying my best not to cry. 
A sudden crash comes from outside. 
I jump, startled, and leap to check out the window. 
I clap my hands over my mouth in horror. 
A reddish-brown wild animal – but not an animal, somehow? - had jumped at the carriage. It tears the wood apart, splintering each piece and throwing them around. Then it stops, suddenly. It sniffs the air and turns in the direction of the palace, so I can finally see what animal it is. 
It's a bear – but at the same time, it isn’t. It has the body of an espyn, but bear attributes are all over its body. Reddish-brown fur, sharp claws and teeth, fuzzy ears. ...  
Its eyes. 
Its eyes are teal. 
The same shade as my father’s. 
The same shade as Daxton’s. 
And when I look closer, it’s clear that the bear-espyn-thing is Dax. I don’t know how I can tell – the behavior of the creature that used to be my brother, maybe? 
The creature that used to be my brother. 
Those are the words that throw me over the edge. My body is racked with quiet sobs and hot tears stream down my face. 
Someone screams from outside, and I hear a loud snarl. 
I whip my head towards the sound. 
The bear-creature had attacked Avior. 
“No!” I shout, disregarding my own safety. 
I want to run down there, to save Avior, but I’m frozen in place. 
I watch the animal slash its sharp claws at my friend, deep red lines appearing in their stead. 
“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter under my breath. 
My eyes continue to widen to levels I didn’t even know were possible as I watch the scene play out below me. 
Avior shrieks in pain when the bear-espyn-thing knocks him off his feet. 
The animal pins Avior down. 
And slices at his face. 
The tears only keep streaming from my eyes as I switch to thermodynamic vision and watch the heat gradually fade out of my friend. 
The bear-espyn-thing – whatever it is – clambers off into the gardens farther away from the palace, sensing that its job is done. 
I want to run down and... save Avior? I don’t know. 
But what I do know is that it’s not safe yet. And I don’t know if it ever will be. 
My stomach growls and I realize that I desperately need to find food. 
There's no way I’m surviving off a singular apple. 
I've scoured the entire palace – and for the record, this place is huge. And I haven’t found a single scrap. 
So, either my family escaped and took everything, or my newly-turned-bear-brother ate everything before I arrived. 
The latter seems more likely, considering I have no idea how long Dax has been here. 
Panic begins to pulse through my body. 
I have no food, for one. 
Two, my brother is half bear. 
Three, I don’t know why he’s half bear. 
And four, I have no way of communicating with other survivors – namely Cari and, ugh, Kaeda. 
Even worse: Kaeda’s my best bet on surviving. She lives closest to Asraxvale and is probably having the same thoughts as me. 
Now, I hate Little Miss Flawless with my whole soul, but if she’s my only way of survival, I must accept my fate, right? 
Or she’s already been attacked by some other wild animal and is unfortunately (read: fortunately) bleeding to her death. 
I don’t know which I prefer. 
But my preference on whether Kaeda survives or not shouldn’t be my greatest concern right now. 
I should be worrying about my survival. 
As I walk back to the immaculate staircase, I hear a low growl come from far behind me. 
I freeze, then slowly turn my head. 
The Daxton-bear-espyn-thing is in the entryway. 
Crap, I think. 
Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. 
I need to run. 
I sprint up the stairs, two or three steps at a time, and run into the first room I see. 
It’s Covyn’s room. 
Where can I hide here? I think. Panic clouds my mind and I can barely think straight (not that I could in the first place). 
I scan the room frantically, then realize: 
The closet. 
I dash across the room, dodging the disarray on the floor. Hopping into the dark closet, I gently shut the door behind me. 
Then it hits me. 
Oh, how cliche. 
I quiet my breathing so that, if my brother comes in here, I don’t get caught. 
One minute passes. 
Then two. 
Then three. 
Heavy footsteps come from the hallway, and I bite my lip so I don’t shriek. 
Just don’t die, Adrienne. 
Just don’t die. 
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photographyeditsblog · 9 months ago
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thefabulousfab-3 · 2 years ago
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It's tomorrow!! Tomorrow we will have the trailer! Are you excited? 👀
Yes, but I’m also nervous and also like “we should have gotten the trailer like a couple weeks ago”. So lots of emotions.
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nevermoresart · 3 years ago
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SO I REDESIGNED ONI AND THEN GOT FUCKIN COLDCOCKED RIGHT IN THE FACE WITH A RANDOM ASS DRAWING IDEA AND I I DID ITTTTT :DDD
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slaterherms · 3 years ago
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˗ˏˋ 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
                  𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 ! ´ˎ˗
hi rpc ! i decided to make my very first masterlist, and i made this for random muse aesthetics, for that one little section in some apps that ask for aesthetics. i was a bit lost on how to approach this, but ultimately, i’ve decided to give aesthetics inspired by own muses. so please enjoy this little insight of my muses and i hope this helps / inspires some of you ! ♡
i still have many more muses, so i might make a part 2. 
ALEXANDER MORGAN bruised knuckles, chipped black nail polish, annotated books, a half empty bottle of alcohol, weirdly shaped mugs, winging life, a god complex, messy sneakers, cigarette butts, a boyish grin, smiley piercings, sarcastic comments, a modernized vintage car, dive bars, the song magnolia by gang of youths, sunglasses after a rough night, raising the middle finger as a response to everything, taking a punch with a grin, riling up a crowd, the sound of cheers, drumming fingers on tables, summer nights. 
ACHILLES HART video game music, long socks with patterns, a pot of black coffee, clicking of a keyboard, coding, all-nighter for work, all-nighter to finish a video game, a scowl that seems permanent, self-deprecating humor, a cracked relationship with a father, a beat up 60′s model car, red eyes from a screen, the song father of mine by everclear, lights reflecting on the street right after rain. 
JACK O’RILEY a small plant in every room of an apartment, a collection of vinyl records, a worn out journal, an acoustic guitar, calloused fingers, a black kitten, live music, jeff buckley’s voice, an empty record store, the color dark sage, a broken home, thunderstorms, black coffee, second-hand books, a walkman, long leather jackets, dirty boots.  
SUMMER DALTON tattoo sleeves, pink rolling paper, winged eyeliner, baggy pants, a habit of self-piercing and tattooing, clear lip gloss, lipstick stained cigarette butts, festering rage, balled fists, the song honey by halsey, a bluntness that can’t be helped, acting out, red heels, black crop tops, claw-shaped painted nails, fingers full of rings, mid-day summer.
DAXTON PASCUAL skateboards, scuffed shoes, bruises all along legs and arms, the sound of a bong when you take a hit, a drawer of rolling paper, the smell of freshly baked goods, golden retriever energy, counting in your head to ease anxiety, painted nails, dyed hair, impulsivity, innocence, oral fixation, the inability to focus on a single thing, romantic comedies, the smell of freshly cut grass. 
RONAN JEAN random sketches, a sketchbook, random band t-shirts, messy curls, dilf glasses, chewing at the end of a pencil, all-nighters, a spacious loft, industrial styles, honey whiskey, male manipulator music, sixties movies, finding peace in being alone, dark academia, hand-me-down clothes, dark colour palettes, an autumn night. 
ROSALIE BERG light academia, red lipstick, tote bags, long coats, hair clips, french nails, always holding a book, gold jewelry, kind to everyone, wandering in bookstores, walking everywhere, listening to podcasts, watching crime documentaries, neat handwriting, sticky notes everywhere, a little bit of sadness behind their eyes, natural makeup (or none at all), sweaters, a spring morning. 
FAIROZ MOUSA snake imagery, colourful jewelry, layered necklaces, a collection of crystals, tarot cards, incense, plants all over their apartment, sapphic literature, academia, chanting for a cause, dark coloured nails, tattooes all over their body, crop tops, long skirts, bandanas, braids, colourful eyeshadow, combat boots, feminist art, social justice social media, mood lighting, sunsets on the beach. 
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winters7soul · 4 years ago
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Fictober 7 (Original Work)
Fictober 7: "Yes I did, what about it?"
Original Work (This is How the World Ends)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: weapons, offscreen murder, discussed death of children
Les was laying back on the couch, listening to Darren and John get into more and more creative arguments, with Tom occasionally jumping in to provide a third particularly convoluted option. Of course, he couldn't help but add his own remarks to stir the pot a bit, every time the conversation seemed to be slowing down some, Daxton had come in a minute ago and had happily decided to join Les. 
Fallon walked through the door and Les had a moment to grin at his last teammate before he saw the look on her face. Les immediately sat up. 
"What's wrong?" Fallon didn't answer, she just grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV to a news channel. It was showing a plane crash, some rich man's private jet had apparently crashed with his family on board. 
"A plane crash?" Darren asked. 
"They aren't talking about it now, it looks like one of the crew was shot." Fallon said.
"And?" Daxton asked.
"You don't recognize the name?" Fallon looked around the room. "Of course not. I'm the only one here who pays attention to anything. Marcus had a job out for this guy. Case and Miki are both out today. Do I need to spell it out further?"
"Wait, what are you talking about, Fals?" Tom asked. 
“Miki and Case just shot down a plane with innocent children inside. They're out of control." 
"We don't know it was them, Fallon." Darren said. 
"Okay. But I bet it was. There were only 10 people on board, no one should have had any reason to shoot a crew member. And this feels like their level of destruction."
"That still seems like a big leap to make Fallon." Les said, but wilted under the force of her stare.
"Do you know what Case was doing today, Les?" 
"I don't know his target, but I do think he was going with Miki."
"Miki's always had more control than to shoot down a plane with children in it." Tom said. 
"But, she has been getting worse lately. He definitely brings out the worst in her." John said slowly, looking at the screen where they were showing another clip of the site. "I don't think she'd just decide to shoot down a plane though. Miki doesn't care about the target, but she likes to be accurate."
"Case likes bloodshed, but he likes to be up close and personal." Les added. "I don't know why he would choose to shoot down a plane rather than kill the target himself."
"I think it was a really difficult job." Fallon said. "That's why I remember hearing the name, because Marcus was complaining about it." 
Les looked up at the same time Fallon did. 
"He wouldn't have…"
"No, there are always easier ways…but..." Fallon and Less both spoke at the same time and trailed off together.
"Wanna fill us in lovebirds?" Tom asked, with a raised eyebrow. Les flushed. 
"If it isn't Case and Miki's style, maybe that's because they were told how to do it when they were assigned the job." Fallon explained.
"You mean, you think Marcus told them to do that?" Darren asked, gesturing to the screen. 
"Only one way to find out." Les said, standing up. "We go ask him."
...
"You ordered that?" Fallon asked. "Knowing what you were doing, you sent those two out there to make sure that plane came down and there were no survivors?" Marcus gritted his teeth but looked between the team standing in front of him, ending on Fallon as he answered.
"Yes I did, what about it?"
"Marcus, his family was on that plane." Les said quietly. "His wife and children."
"A necessary cost. Besides, his wife wasn't innocent, the contract was happy to have her head as well." Marcus turned around like a dismissal. None of them moved.
"And their kids?" Fallon asked. 
"You're mercenaries, why are children so much more valuable to you than anyone else?" Marcus asked rhetorically. "Get off your high horses. If you care about lives you're in the wrong profession. Now get out of my office." 
Marcus sat at his desk and looked down at the papers there, obviously ignoring them.
Fallon glanced to the others. Les met her eyes angrily, his reflection mirrored on the others' faces. Finally Les jerked his head to the door and with a couple more angry looks at Marcus, they filed out.  Les was the last one to leave.
"Marcus, remember Case and Miki aren't your only competent killers. You've lost our trust with this move."
"I thought I told you to get out?" Marcus said. Les tilted his head in an approximation of a nod and closed the door behind himself. 
"Let's go."
"Where are we-" John trailed off as Les started down the hallway towards their dorms. 
"Meeting." Les said shortly. 
The team trailed behind Les and Fallon silently. Les wasn't sure what a meeting could do, but they had to do something. No one needed to snap at Marcus, but they definitely needed to talk about this. Les also didn't want to have time alone to think about how much Marcus' words were affecting him . 'Why are children so much more valuable to you than anyone else?' Damn Marcus for making him question his own morality when he was trying to call Marcus out on his lack of it.
Les unlocked the doors through instinct more than actual thought, and was only brought out of it when everyone was seated and looking at him. 
"You're looking at me like I know how to start this." Les said with a wry smile.
"Well I know." Fallon said, rolling her eyes at Les but pulling the focus off him. "I certainly agree with Les, in that I have lost my trust in Marcus to be reasonable about what he selects as jobs."
"Then where does that leave us?” Tom asked. “We are still his employees.”
“With a lot more responsibilities on our hands.” Les said with a grimace.
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cupcakesandtv · 4 years ago
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wait why are you expectations for nhie buried in the center of the earth? is it daxton related cause that’s gonna make me sad lol
Well 1) it’s a personal problem. 😆 I get all wrapped up and attached to the way I want to see everyone in the next season and I’m always disappointed because the writers, not being in my brain, do not give my greedy brain exactly what I wanted. So I try to lower my expectations because I’m aware enough to know that what I want to happen and what the writers want to happen are obviously different and that doesn’t always mean bad. (Ahem except when it does, I’m looking at you stranger things)
And 2) I saw a clip of a scene from s2 from some Brazilian awards show on twitter and it looked awful
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dedicatedfollowerofashion · 7 years ago
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Daxton Loafer | Moda Operandi (clipped to polyvore.com)
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queenpiranhadon · 9 months ago
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A/N: No personal messages at the moment, just enjoy the chapter! This chapter is written by the lovely Nyota (@labaguetteisdabest). You can find the masterlist here
Warning(s): Apex gets panic attacks (kinda), murder, fratricide, blood, injuries, fighting, espyn-animal hybrids, death, cursing, burning, phantom pain.
Pairing(s): Kaepex
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Stomp. 
Stomp. 
Stomp. 
My brother-turned-bear stands outside the door. 
He hesitates, sniffing the air. 
And continues walking. 
Stomp. 
Stomp. 
Stomp. 
I breathe a quiet sigh of relief, and once I can’t hear his footsteps anymore, I carefully and quietly open the closet door. 
Then, I creep across Cove’s bedroom and open the door, praying that my brother had in fact gone far away. 
When I scan the glaringly white hallway with intricate flame patterns adorning the walls, I don’t spot the creature that used to be Daxton. 
Why is he a bear-espyn hybrid? I think. So much has changed while I was gone... 
I sneak around a corner. 
OH- 
My brother is right there. Right around the corner. 
I take a deep breath. 
Okay. 
There are two things I can do here. One, I can run and let my brother run rampant. Or... I can kill him, saving... I don’t know who I’d be saving. 
I know one thing. 
Killing Daxton is the right choice. It would crush my parents – my mother in particular – but I was taught to put the good of the people before my own life and biases. And that’s what I’m doing... right? 
I can’t even attack right now, anyways – why am I debating this? 
I dash down the hallway, away from my brother, and as I run, the reality of the situation sets in. 
I’m about to go murder my brother... or die trying. 
How unpleasant. 
I realize I’ve probably been running for longer than I intended and double back. I must have run past the armory. 
Bingo. 
I try to open the door quietly, but the hinges squeak. I pause for a minute, panic rushing through me again. I don’t hear any footsteps come in my direction, so I release a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and continue opening the door. 
Opening the door again, I walk in quickly and breathe a sigh of relief once I lock the door. 
I’m gonna need to be able to see fully, I realize. I look around for a clip or hair tie or something I can use to move my red hair away from my face. 
A minute or two later, I find a ruby hair clip and I push my hair aside, clipping it out of the way. 
Let’s hope this doesn’t fall out, I think. 
I switch my focus to what’s more important. 
My weapon. 
Relying on my Reya alone won’t be smart; I’ll end up exhausted. 
I look around, nothing really catching my eye, until I find a deep blue-hilted dagger. I had lit a small fire above my hand so I could see better, and the silver edge shines in my light. Lifting it, I discover it’s lighter than I anticipated. 
This is the one I’ll use. 
I extinguish the light from my hand and grab the leather hilt that goes along with the dagger, tying it around my waist. 
Carefully opening the door, I let it slam behind me and I sprint back to my brother, ready to save Fujimura – or die trying. 
No pressure. 
I stop when I reach the corner of the hallway. Unsheathing my dagger, I take a breath. 
And I step. 
And dash. 
I run at my brother, slashing at his back, and he gasps in pain. 
My dagger is lined with red. 
I hate it. 
I hate the fact that I have to hurt – no, kill – my brother. 
But I just have to deal with it. 
I keep saying that I’ll be saving people. 
But who am I really saving? 
Who knows how many of these diseased espyn-animal hybrids are out there, crawling through the forests of Dodomi? 
No one, probably. 
Daxton whips his head around, a deep growl rumbling from his throat. He stretches his sharp claws, aiming to hit me, but I dodge him, rolling underneath his arm. 
I summon a fire blast, sending it at his body, and while the flames are taxing on my energy, I manage to push through and lash out with my dagger, the blade hitting solid mass. 
I want this to end. 
I hate that noise. 
I hate hearing my brother snarl at me. 
Slash at me. 
I hate the feeling of the dagger in my right hand. 
And yet – the weight is comforting, somehow. 
Maybe it’s that the weight tells me that I have something to protect me? 
I hate it anyways. 
I hate this. 
Pain streaks across my back and I cry out. 
Anger fuels me and I throw my hand out, blasting another inferno at my brother. The crackling of the flames is calming, in a way, but it doesn’t save me from my terror. 
Daxton swings his leg around, kicking my legs out from under me. As I fall to the ground, the right side of my face begins to throb with pain. 
Stupid phantom pain, I think exasperatedly. Why now?! 
My brother-turned-bear-espyn-hybrid pins me to the ground. His hot breath stings my face, and I begin to hyperventilate. 
My dagger is pinned down to the ground because of my arm, so I can’t do that. My Reya is weak from the times I used it before. And Dax is too strong; I can’t wiggle out of his grasp. 
Then it hits me. 
I heat up my body, and as I do so, I can feel my life energy slowly fading away – like the layers of the ocean: the more layers you pull away, the deeper you go, and the more raw pieces you expose. 
My vision begins to fade, just barely, but I get lucky: my brother rips his hands away from my burning skin. 
And at his moment of weakness, I go for it. 
I stab my brother in the side. 
His eyes widen. 
And then he shrieks. 
A guttural scream erupts from his lungs, and I want to cover my ears but it’s not safe – not yet. 
Daxton locks his eyes on me, and I can feel it – he’s gonna bring me down with him. 
Not on my watch. 
I scramble away from him, sprinting out into the gardens in front of the palace, and I can hear Dax’s lumbering footsteps behind me. 
I stumble. 
And my vision gains black spots. 
No. 
Not right now. 
I almost made it. 
I look down and the white concrete has droplets of red – all from my back wound. 
That’s definitely scarring. 
Adrienne, you should not be worried about that right now. 
Worry about living first. 
The sight of my blood makes me slightly nauseous. But I have to deal with it, because if I don’t, I’m just accepting my death. 
And that is not happening. 
Daxton roars behind me, and I clamber up again, trying to run farther, but something pushes me, and I fall to my knees. 
My brother pins me down again, and this time, my dagger is lost somewhere, my brother’s side wound is dripping onto me, and I’m too weak to use my Reya. 
Yep, I’m dead. 
I try to wriggle out from underneath him, but he only pushes down harder. 
Ow, ow, ow... 
I kick my legs up and my brother freezes. 
I don’t think I had the energy to do that, but now I can get out from underneath and find some other weapon to use. 
The fresh breeze stings my back, and it seems it hurts my brother too because he winces. 
I run around the palace, my brother following me – until he isn’t. 
What the hell? 
I keep running, afraid he’s just hiding, and a shimmer of silver catches my eye. 
My dagger! 
I dash at it, picking it up. 
A newfound strength surges through me, and my eyesight sharpens. 
Gods help me. 
Please. 
I dart away and crash into my brother. 
He had circled around. 
Okay, I am so dead, I think. 
Desperation replaces the strength that I had felt moments ago, and I rush to figure out what I’ll do next. 
I slash up, dash to the left, avoid a blow. 
I blast flames to my right (don’t ask me how; I was exhausted), dodge, and trip. 
I’m in front of the drawbridge and my brother is on top of me – yes, again – and I take advantage of my arms being free for a moment. 
I shove my dagger up, into my brother’s stomach. 
His blood already covers part of my arm from before and now it’s dripping onto my fairly clean, white shirt. 
His wild teal eyes widen, and he falls to the ground. I scramble away before he can fall on top of me, and tears prick my eyes. 
“Shit, I knew I would do this, but I didn’t realize it would hurt this much!” I say to no one in particular. 
Daxton coughs beneath me. 
I look at him. 
His lips are moving – is he trying to actually speak? 
“Adri...” he rasps. 
“Wh- I didn’t realize you could talk still...” I whisper. 
“Tell Mother and Father. ... Tell them I miss them,” he croaks. Then his stare turns blank. 
Did he go fully espyn for his last moments? If he could talk this whole time, then why didn’t he talk to me? 
I collapse to the ground. 
The last thing I see is my brother’s dead body. 
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photographyeditsblog · 11 months ago
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seeyoumondaydevi · 3 years ago
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Heart palpitations, goosebumps and butterflies.
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seeyoumondaydevi · 2 years ago
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Dig a hole I am coming
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seeyoumondaydevi · 2 years ago
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There is no recovery from this
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seeyoumondaydevi · 2 years ago
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Heart palpitations, goosebumps and butterflies pt 2. pt 1
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