#onyx feathers on snow

[crowley-in-arkham]

Albus City: the Gotham Antithesis, or so Rook says.

I'd say he's right, even amidst the winter season Albus seems warm—despite the military occupation.

When Rook asked me to keep my passport ready, I was somewhat taken aback by the sheer amount of precautionary measured implemented. I can somewhat understand why Crane never made it out this way.

"Arkham?" One of the guards eyes my ID critically, "We haven't had a doctor from there come into Albus for a while."

"Someone from Arkham?" I asked, furrowing a brow. (If it's Crane I'll lose my mind.)

"Uh, yeah, Arkham—I think. I assume the founder? Or related? Lanky guy, bad haircut—round glasses. Looks like he just walked out of the 50s."

"That'd be Jeremiah Arkham." Rook snickered, "He's the founder's son."

"I'm not here for work," I piped up, "Just to get a license."

Rook chuckled, "Kust here for the beauty of the Sunbleached City!"

The guard raised a brow, looking at Rook with a sting of familiarity. "You Fujimoto's boy?"

Rook seemed to straighten up in his seat, "Yeah, uh, Inko's my mom."

"Hope you're doing her proud up in Gotham," the guard squint his eyes, "Not gettin into fights still, I hope?"

Rook stared at the guard for a moment then it clicked to him: "Oh! I didn't even recognize you Bryn!"

The guard let out a hardy laugh and ruffled the Avian's hair, "Just glad you did eventually. What a fine coincidence, bein' on duty the day you decided to come home."

"It's good to see you! Suppose its better you than someone else have to hear me explain why the Doc and I are here."

"Well, lay it on me an' I'll lend you an ear," the guard flashed me a fanged grin and a wink.

"I'm not sure what I can and cannot disclose—" I started, before Rook interjected.

"The doctor's just treading carefully. She has kind of latent anomaly. While I'm here I'm gonna have Dr. White take a look at her, maybe he'll spy something Gotham can't."

The guard narrowed his golden eyes, "I know I needn’t tell you, Rook, but, your friend here should get the history lesson before she goes pokin' around the Heart."

"Heart?" I echoed to myself.

The wolf-like guard pointed a clawed hand up towards a large skyscraper crowned in glass domes: beside it, like a false sun, a glowing white ball of some ethereal nature.

"That's the Heart," The guard explained, standing back up, from Rook's window. "Give her all the Albus City warnings once you get home, especially if she'll be prodding at White and the other researchers. Last thing we need right now is more stress on the labrats: Creed's got that covered."

"Will do, sir."

Frankly, I was left with far more questions than answers. Rook drove carefully through the city, explaining district after district and gang relationship to gang relationship.

I was surprised with the nature of Albus, the city was treated as if it were an independent state from the rest of the US because of it's anomalous nature.

I sighed, interjecting on Rook explaining why the Hawkwood Majors and the Springtown Wreckers contest over territory despite Haven being Vig territory. Whatever those words mean.

"What exactly does Dr. White do?"

Rook chuckled, "Basically what Strange does, but instead of tampering with your DNA he only tries to stabilize anything dangerous."

"Stabilize anything dangerous?" I said skeptically, "Like, cure cancer?"

"No, he only works with anomalies—like you, me, Ivy. Some anomalies can be incredibly dangerous and unstable—like the Majors I was talking about earlier."

I chuckled, "You lost me when you were on the Majors."

Rook snickered, "No worries, its a lot. Majors get their name from their shared anomaly. It's just called Majoris: it just makes them big. It's one of the most common anomalies: yet one of the most unstable."

"Unstable how?"

"They can randomly lash out, sent into a blind rage by some unknown stimulant— like— Epilepsy. Something in their brain gets triggered. Instead of seizing though— it's like their adrenal system goes into hyperdrive and they go full elephant rut. Terrible stuff."

"So Dr. White helps them? Fixes them?"

"He's more like a—" Rook motions his hand looking for the word, before clicking and exclaiming: "Like a psychiatrist for metahumans!"

"I see," I mulled quietly, before adding an optimistic, "I can't wait to meet him then."

Rook shook his head excitedly, "Honestly, you'll get to meet pretty much everyone."

I tilted my head, "Everyone?"

Rook shrugged, "Maybe not the Vigilants, but my mom and people she works with, definitely!"

I furrowed my brows and smiled, "Well, I'm sure your mother is lovely— but, um—" I chuckled awkwardly, "Who— who are the Vigilants?" Rook had pulled into a space in front of a building complex. It was a quaint little dojo wedged between a natural remedy shop and an attorney's office.

Rook chuckled and looked at me with a raised brow, "Seriously?"

I apologized, "Sorry, sorry, I've never heard of them."

Rook chuckled, "They're like Albus' personal Justice League: it's best not to think about it much deeper than that though."

"Why not?"

"Albus isn't a perfect city," Rook shrugged, "it's just inverse Gotham. Instead of seeing it go down on the streets, it all goes down in boardrooms and laboratories."

Rook hopped out of the Jeep and plucked my bag from the back seat. When we entered, he'd held the dojo door open for me.

It was a decorated dojo, with soft brown and tan tatami mats and tasteful ink murals on the walls.

"Welcome to the Yamakarasu Dojo," Rook chuckled, "the stairs are over here."

A woman around my height poked her head out from a storage room.

"Is that—" the woman asked through a squinted gaze, flicking down a pair of brown glasses. She gasped, busting out from behind the counter leaving a crash of books and papers in her wake: "My little mountain crow!" The winged woman basically tackled Room out the door.

"Hey ma—" The woman seemed to only register my presence after tacking her son out of the door, "This is my co-worker, Mina."

The woman laughed and took my hand in hers, apologizing, "Sorry, sorry, Sousuke never calls so I had no idea you two were coming!"

I narrowed my eyes at Rook who chuckled awkwardly.

"Come on upstairs and I'll get the guest room set up for you," She motioned, "A bit close to the holidays to be making your way to Albus, don't you think?"

Rook chuckled, "Two birds with one stone."

I looked at him and so did his mother.

Rook laughed, "Well, I thought it was funny."

His mother rolled her eyes and lead me up to the main apartment: a tiny nook with pleasant green walls and a myriad of plants throughout.

"Ivy would like it here," I chuckled, nudging Rook on the shoulder.

The avian snickered and carried my bags, following behind his mother.

"What did you come home for anyway, Sou?" Rook's mother asked, while I eyed the photos on the wall.

"I need to have Marcus take a look at Crowley," Rook admitted, "She's a bit of a unique case."

Rook's mother raised a brow, "She looks fine to me."

Rook chuckled, "Well, she wasn't really—" he took a moment to find the word, "One of us before."

Inko chuckled from the guest room, "The hell does that mean, Sousuke?"

Rook sighed, "She didn't have wings ma."

Into stopped and laughed wryly, "What?"

"She was 110% normal human until recently."

"You mean to say she just—" Inko flicked her fingers out to mimic a poof.

"Yeah, except kind of literally."

Rooks mother sat on the bed and looked at me, "So, tell me what happened."

I turned and pondered for a moment on what I could and couldn't say.

"Trust me, I won't tell a soul no matter how questionably ethical it might be."

I hesitated, and Inko sighed, "Alright. Take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?"

"Mina, just trust me."

"Does Rook have to be here?"

"Would you rather it be me or Dr. White?" Inko said flatly.

I stopped and sighed, "Fair enough."

I struggled to pull newly grown wings from my shirt's haphazardly cut back, before sitting down on the bed next to Rook's mother.

She stood up and began eyeing my arms and neck critically.

She stopped when she spotted a small scar on my abdomen.

"Have you had any repetitive injections in the last few months?"

Rook looked concerned.

"I can't say for certain, but I do have reason to believe I have, yeah."

Inko stared at me with wild concern, "You have reason to believe? The hell happened to you?"

Inko shook her head, "Sousuke, I'm going to come to the lab with you when you see White. If anyone else has received the treatment Mina here has: I would like to know immediately."

I pondered, "The only one I know for certain is Jon."

Rook piped up, "Could you elaborate? We're kind of in the dark about this."

Inko sighed, "I can explain when we get to the lab. I want to run some tests to determine whether or not this is what I think it is."

"What you think it is?" Rook barked, "Mom, would you just tell us?"

"When the Heart first opened there were a ton of projects opened up to understand anomalies in Albus and why they occurred so much differently and far more frequently in Albus than anywhere else in the world," Inko explained while she pulled a coat on.

"A few projects regarded a substance that was discovered after the Heart opened: we call it Rylumine, and it's something all anomalies in Albus share. These projects aimed to create consistent and artificial anomalies by injecting foreign fetus' and babies with the substance: the only—" She made quotations with her fingers, "'Successful' project being Operation Lazarus."

"Marcus and I will explain more when we get to the lab," the woman assured, "but I have reason to suspect that you and this 'Jon' fella have been subject to Rylumine injections."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Anomalies are a dice roll. Some people become angels, some people end up like Claude Gideon."

"Claude Gideon?"

"Albus City Bruce Wayne:" Rook interjected, "if Bruce Wayne went nuts and murdered his girlfriend."

"What?"

Inko motioned her hand, "Sorry for giving you zero downtime, hun, but you might have been caught in the midst of Albus' dirty laundry."

I've never been more confused in my life.

[crowpocrypha]

now kiss.

[ithaquakisser]

Look Only At Me

Synopsis; Your eyes are his and only his. Why must you look someone else's way?

CW; Unhealthy relationship, obsession, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, suggestive themes, slight NSFW

MINORS DNI. (18+)

WC; ≈1.2K

Note; I was going through it writing this because I literally made myself blush— 😭 I had a lot of fun writing this though, that's for sure! I noticed "Desire" received so many notes so I decided to write something similar to it. I have to admit I am a bit embarrassed since this was a bit self-indulgent... But I hope you guys enjoy! 🫶 (This was written at 3am...)

Ithaqua gravely detested you. Your presence brought about such profound feelings of resentment in his heart. Such utter feelings of indignation must be buried in silence. Let the wind cry and roar in spite of your presence whilst you turn a blind eye to his misery. Must you pull at his heartstrings each time you part your lips to speak? Must you leave him in dismay every moment your eyes avert from his?

What shall he do to put an end to such torment? What could remedy such agony? You were akin to a dove, oh so pure, so lovely, oh so naive. You dared not turn his way. You were a mere dove, one that he wishes to sink his teeth into. One that he longs to maintain for his selfish desires. One that he yearns to pluck your beloved white feathers and leave you flightless. That way, you could never leave him.

You were a nuisance. You were nothing more but a burden to him. Yet, why must the wind cry upon your absence? He could never bring himself to understand such a thing. Must you cast him aside like worthless dross? Let your eyes wander, longing for something, someone more than him. Such a thought only churns feelings of displeasure. Ithaqua bit his lip in vexation, for he believed this was something he shan't ever let happen.

Your chest heaved sporadically whilst you panted. The distinctively tall hunter towered over you, his ice axe in hand as droplets of crimson met the snow beneath your feet. A flame ignited in his ember eyes as it locked with yours, he could hear his heart beating brutally in ire while he gazed upon your face of dismay. A sly leer on his face as he approached you. You took a step back, letting out a shaky gasp as you met the walls behind you.

Your teammates were nowhere to be seen or heard. In the distance, you could faintly hear cipher machines. The young male had dropped his ice axe behind him, hunching over slightly to meet your face. Raven hues fixated onto yours, he was abnormally close for comfort. “Ithaqua…?” You uttered breathily. With a menacing smile beneath his mask, he gripped your face, causing you to yelp.

“Y/N… Why must you torment me so? Do you hate me, Y/N?” Ithaqua spoke your name like a prayer, an incantation. “Why do you avoid me?” He interrogated with a scowl. “Are you… afraid of me, Y/N?” He lifted your chin to face him, his voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine. “No… Of course not, Ithaqua.”

“Then… Why do you run from me, Y/N?” Ithaqua gripped your face tighter, his nails sinking lightly into your skin. Your heart fiercely pounded against your chest as he spoke. Snowflakes licked at your hair as scarlet beads spilled from your lips from your earlier encounter. “Tell me… Do I scare you?” He probed as he ran his thumb over your bloodied lips.

“Fear certainly wouldn’t look like this, now, would it…?” Leisurely, you reached your trembling hands towards his mask. You pulled it off, letting it drop to the snow beneath the two of you. A shade of scarlet red painted over his pale cheeks as his onyx eyes met yours, taken aback by your gesture. A faint cool breeze grazed against both of your skins as he leaned closer, releasing his grip on you.

Ithaqua intertwined his hands with yours instead, pinning them against the wall as he leaned toward the crook of your neck. “Don’t you run from me anymore.” He murmured, his hot breath against your skin. “I’m sorry…” You mumbled in response. “Must you always look someone else’s way?” He muttered.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” You repeated yourself like a broken record. You could not bear to upset him like this. “Then promise me one thing, Y/N.” “Yes, Ithaqua?” He leaned in close to your ear, his thumb caressing your hand as he whispered. -“Look only at me.”-

“Of course…” You obliged. “Good…” His lips curled into a small smile as he tenderly kissed your neck. You winced as he scraped his teeth against your bare neck, Ithaqua emitting a small chuckle in response. “Relax…” His warm tongue ran over your flesh, sinking his teeth into you as he sucked. You moaned as he trailed love bites down your neck, working himself down to your collarbone. You called out his name under your breath, lost in his touch.

You had flinched upon the sound of sirens wailing throughout the vicinity. “Ithaqua—” The hunter silenced you, placing a slender finger on your lips. “We’re not done yet.” Spoke the male as he raised your chin, his lips brushing against yours. You melted into the kiss, enveloping your arms around his waist.

Oh, how he gravely detested you. How you'd so easily succumb to him. How you'd still beam at him regardless of his actions. It all made him sick, sick to his stomach. Sick in ways he still didn't quite understand. Perhaps, his heart would find peace with you wrapped around his finger. Seeing it all come into play as you melted upon his touch. He wondered how far is it that you can go. How long is it before you break?

A hand intertwined with his, and another buried deep into his platinum waves. His soft lips were pressed against yours, your tongue dancing with his. Ithaqua's face was flushed with a ruby tint, burning against your skin. Small strands of hair brushed upon your warm cheeks, his body pressed against yours. He was greedy in every way, shape, and form. His touch demonstrates his burning desire, one that is everlasting.

His fingers trailed down your body, begging for more of your touch. He tasted the bitter, metallic taste of blood from your lips, a piece of work done by his own hands. He left you breathless, gasping for air, pleading for more. A thin strand of saliva connected you two, his touch lingering on your skin. The hunter dared not look at you, unable to comprehend the feelings churning inside of him.

How greatly he wanted to strike you down at that very moment. The very moment you laid your delicate eyes on him with such adoration. How dare you gaze upon him with great delicacy? How dare you stir these feelings in his heart? These were all words left unspoken as he reached a trembling hand towards you. Ithaqua's heart pounded frantically in his chest as you took his hand into yours. He wished he could run away, hide away from you, you who brings him torment.

You never cease to pull at his heartstrings like a lyre, and he despised you for it.

Warm rays of sunshine shone upon your face as you awoke in the manor once again. Disoriented you were, you had no recollection of the events that occurred subsequently. You trailed your fingers down your neck, the sound of wind ringing in your ears like chimes. Your cheeks were tinted a shade of carmine, and the series of events prior replayed in your mind ever so vividly. His lips on your cold neck, his fingers tracing stars into your skin. He had left you with a feeling you never felt before in your chest.

Yet, oh, how he detested you so.

[itselriel]

Did Elain see Koschei’s soul in ACOWAR?

“What did you see?” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move, again.

Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him. “I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.”

-

“What sort of curse?” My mate asked before he’d even finished speaking to me.

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer lord ….” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses. More vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—other’s so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.”

[slowpress]

Elain: “He snapped your wings, he broke your bones.” Cassian: “It will take more than that to kill me.” Elain: “No it will not.”

What if Elain wasn't talking about Cassian and Hybern? What if it was Cassian later on in life? Or do we think that Nesta with her power over death, blocked his death from reaching him? “Will I hear the earthworms writhing through the soil? Or the stretching of roots? Will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?” Dusk coming back to life. Or the leylines (roots) activating with Bryce opening the portal. The Midgard worm which appears to eat / be attracted to magic. Bird of fire is Vassa

"I can hear your heart beating through the stone. I can hear hers too" Vesperus and Nesta? I can't remember who she said this to. On rereading Koschei and Vesperus? Or Koschei and Aelin?

"I can hear her crying. Everyone thinks she is dead, but she isn't. She was changed, like I was."

Who is this! Another made person? Another seer? "I can hear the sea. Even at night. Even in my dreams. The crashing sea—and the screams of a bird made of fire.”

The sea, Dusk? The bird of fire Vassa? Why is she screaming?

“They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …”

The human queens sold Vassa to Koschei.

“I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.”

He has his heart (soul?) trapped in an onyx box, and he is looking for the key. Reminds me of what the Bone Carver said, that the blood of a power High Fae trapped Koschei and her blood still runs through the humans. He is trapping humans to see if they will open the box for him. Vassa has "Blue eyes" and "reddish gold hair" - like Meave? Like Theia? I actually think that Stryga was Koschei's wife and stole his heart locking it in a box as punishment for something. Similar to Meabh and Erawan.

“There is … a lake. Deep in—in the continent, I think. Hidden amongst mountains and ancient forests. He keeps them all at the lake.” “Other women like her?” “Yes—and no. Their feathers are white as snow. They glide across the water—while she rages through the skies above it.”

Is this Vassa the Firebird (Mala) and Mab (as a swan)?

This reads to me like a retelling of the Children of Lir.

“I can hear her—crying.” “Everyone thinks she’s dead." “But she’s not. Only—different. Changed. As I was.”

Who is she? Briallyn? Mab? Who people think is dead? Her crown was never recovered? Another made person, mortal to immortal? Miryam?

“She stared into the darkness above. “I think they used it to … to trap their enemies and their enemies’ children into the stone itself.”

The Asteri trapping the fae into stone in the prison? Looking up at the darkness, to the sky, the stars / asteri on different planets. Who are their enemies? Aelin, the fae, and the starborn. "He did. He saw me. He will not now.”

He? As in Hybern? The Cauldron? Koschei?

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.

The biggest questions for me are the flaming feather on the snow.

[lady-embers]

Elain and Lucien Thought/Theory

This post is going to be about Elain and Lucien (and a touch of Vassa, Korshei, and Azriel).

First off, I think Elain’s Seer powers work in Lucien's presence and it is possible that is why she's so uncomfortable around him.

This is taken from Chapter 29 when Lucien was trying to figure out what was *seemingly* wrong with Elain and she ends up having a vision of the twin ravens.

*****I do want to point out that Elain being a Seer isn't something that is wrong with her though as it is her literal power and Azriel points out that THEY need a Seer, not that being a Seer was what was necessarily wrong with Elain. They just didn't understand what her power was yet so they perceived there was something wrong with her*****

We also have this from Chapter 32 where once again Lucien is around and Elain has a vision about Vassa.

And then in Chapter 33 we have this line when Lucien volunteers to go find Vassa.

Again, these instances are showing us that Elain’s powers are working in Lucien's presence. And what did Elain see, or sense, when she had this seemingly show of her seer power when Lucien volunteers to go find Vassa? She never revealed what she saw. Maybe we'll get answers in Elain and Lucien book?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Speaking of Elain and Lucien book.... I think their book is going to center around a Swan Lake retelling.

Why do I think this? Well, mainly because of this scene in Chapter 33:

The reason why this scene makes me believe we will have a Swan Lake retelling with Elain and Lucien is because Elain has a vision and in it she talks about how their feathers are white as snow as well as gliding across the water, and what animals are reminiscent of this description? Swans...

With it being a Swan Lake retelling, Elain and Lucien book will center around Korschei and with that comes in Vassa since she is still connected to Korshei as well as Lucien because of the Band of Exiles. Elain also talks about an Onyx box that is precious to Korshei. She will more than likely be needed on this journey to freeing Vassa (as well as the other women) once and for all from Korshei as well as dealing with Korshei himself. Lucien will obviously be needed as well due to his spell cleaving powers. And well we have this to:

This scene shows Lucien glancing at Elain and then mentioned how he wasn't needed there. He knows Elain isn't comfortable around him and is leaving to give her space but to me it also shows he believes in Elain’s vision and will seek out this Queen (Vassa) with little to go on because his mate essentially needs him to for the good of everyone. I also can't get over the fact Elain is a SEER and Lucien metal eye can see things others cannot! These two are more compatible/alike than some want to admit 😏

I also want to point out this line from the same chapter when Lucien is going to find Vassa:

This right here brings me to point out that in the Azriel bonus chapter we got he didn't once care or show concern about how the Blood Duel would affect Elain if he hurt or killed Lucien....but yet here we are with Nesta showing concern about what would happen to Elain if Lucien was to get hurt or killed while venturing off to find Vassa 🤔

[merymoonbeam]

Völuspá

here is a thought. I can't be bothered to make this pretty so bear with me here.

Hosab ended with Azriel taking Bryce to the Town house which was empty in Acosf. Nobody lived there.

He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread? They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet. (hosab)

“But why live in this dump, when the town house was sitting empty?” (Acosf)

But in hosab there is clearly someone living there with the fireplace going and the house smelling like bread and roses. The question is who? (I made a post about how it might be Elain living there.) and how sarah is going to tackle this crossover in acotar world?

my take on this is that sarah seems to LOVE Norse myth and heavily inspired by it. There is a famous poem in Norse myth called Völuspá.

Vǫluspá (also Völuspá, Vǫlospá or Vǫluspǫ́; Old Norse: 'Prophecy of the völva, a seeress') is the best known poem of the Poetic Edda. It tells the story of the creation of the world and its coming end and subsequent rebirth, related to the audience by a völva addressing Odin. It is one of the most important primary sources for the study of Norse mythology. The poem is preserved whole in the Codex Regius and Hauksbók manuscripts while parts of it are quoted in the Prose Edda.

The poem is told by Völva(a seeress) to Odin about the creation of the world, it is end and rebirth.

who is a seer? Elain.

What created the acotar world? Cauldron

Who is cauldron obsessed with? Elain.

Who is rebirth? Elain. (?) if we take the book of breathings prophecy as Feyre= Life, Nesta=Death

Life and death and rebirth Sun and moon and dark Rot and bloom and bones Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. Love me, touch me, sing me.

So is she gonna use Elain's book to tackle this creation of the world and it's end and "rebirth"? Does Elain's book take place before cc3 or it is gonna happen at the same timeline?

Now that's out of the way. We have Odin right? Völva tells the story to Odin.

In the poem Völva tells something to Odin about his eye.

The seeress then reveals to Odin that she knows some of his own secrets, and that he sacrificed an eye in pursuit of knowledge. She tells him she knows where his eye is hidden and how he gave it up in exchange for knowledge. She asks him in several refrains if he understands, or if he would like to hear more.

Does it seem familiar? In koschei tales koschei hides his "soul" and there is a whole thing about it.

The most common feature of tales involving Koschei is a spell which prevents him from being killed. He hides his soul inside nested objects to protect it. For example, the soul (or in the tales, it is usually called "death") may be hidden in a needle that is hidden inside an egg, the egg is in a duck, the duck is in a hare, the hare is in a chest, the chest is buried or chained up on a far island. Usually he takes the role of a malevolent rival father figure, who competes for (or entraps) a male hero's love interest.

And in Acowar Elain knows about Koschei's box of black stone.

Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him. “I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.”

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.”

Another thing in the poem is that there is horn.  Heimdallr's horn, Gjallarhorn.

Later in Völuspá, the völva foresees the events of Ragnarök and the role in which Heimdall and Gjallarhorn will play at its onset; Heimdall will raise his horn and blow loudly.

Heimdall's horn, which will announce the final battle, is hidden under the sacred tree, where we find another curious object, Odin's eye.

Who has the horn tattooed to her body and fell to Acotar world? Bryce.

That's about it. Looks like Sarah wants to write Ragnarok :))))))))))

[znoots]

Raven

Raven 

1.2k words.

A girl who has trouble sleeping and a wounded bird. They both find solace.

Reader is in Ravenclaw 

Time was moving at its usual slow pace, the irritable ticking of the clock keeping her up. It was almost 2 a.m., yet sleep hadn’t answered, and her eyes grew hazy with discontent, the bags under her eyes only darkening with each day.

Rising from atop the bed, she peeked through the velveted curtains. Playing with the hem of the fabric, it was smooth against her rough hands, delicate and heartfelt.

Turning her gaze back to the shadowed windows, the weather outside seemed to be fighting against its own troubles, the back-and-forth howling against the flakes of occasional snow that fell from the clouds.The swindled howling and wailing that seeped through the window pulled her back toward rest. A sudden tap that hit the window with force snapped her out of her drifting state.

Groaning in annoyance after many attempts at trying to find slumber, she looked around her dorm room only to find everyone else still asleep. She got up to inspect what may have hit the window.Wine smeared across the window with fluffed onyx feathers. Tracing over the smear with her fingers, she looked down, trying to find the residue of the animal.

After some time, her eyes adjusted to the haziness, and she saw a faint outline of a bird. It lay still among the gelid breeze that was battering it with the howls and timbers of the night.

Moving from the window, she snatched the nearest hoodie, throwing it upon herself and loosely tying her laces. Though having failed miserably, the laces came undone a couple of steps towards the entrance of the common room.

Sighing, she tucked the shoestrings into her tattered shoes.

Making her way down the halls and outside onto the frosted licks of grass, she squinted and cradled her arms around her body, attempting to save as much body heat as she could while being beaten with the unwelcoming crisp winds.

Hands grasping at the fabric of her hoodie in hopes of warming herself to no avail, her nails soon painted with watercolour blues and purples. Nails brittle and chequered.After trudging against the grounds for a while, she came across the bird. Kneeling down to clasp it with frozen hands, the bird lay still, unmoving to the frosted touch, which it couldn’t decipher.

Getting up and whimpering in discomfort when the winds slammed against her skin, her lips were chapped with paled hues of pink and purple. Lashes covered with droplets of defrosting snow.

Turning her back towards the hurdling breeze, she sheltered the animal beneath the fabric of her hoodie, trying to make some sort of heat for the bird to combat the cold.

Marching with unsteady steps back towards the dorms she huffed when entering back into the mediaeval building. Its stature offering a sense of pride and reassurance compared to her small, unrivalled presence.

Finally making it back to the common room she kicked her shoes off with no regard to where it landed or who was to find it later that morning.With soft steps to not alert anyone awake she made her way to the fireplace where books of mythical creatures were scattered around its luminating flames.

Crouching down to the fireplace where she flicked away the hair obstructing her view. Taking out the frail bird from beneath her ragged hoodie she coddled it within her hands as close as she could towards the weakening embers.

Realising the flames were too weak she placed the Raven at the ledge of the fireplace before getting up to find some spare wood. Wandering around on the slight tips on her toes to not make too much noise she found some spare blocks of darkened wood.

Mentally cursing when she kicked a book against the ashy floor sending it a few feet away from her. She paused to make sure no one had woken up before resuming her way back to the fireplace. Delicately placing in the pieces of wood , deciding it was more than enough then placing the rest by the hem of the fireplace.

The flames eventually grew producing a thick warming heat around them.

Subconsciously she began to pet the raven combing in between its feathers to allow more heat to make its way past the coaled feathers. Feeling a sort of dread when some time had gone by yet the small creature hadn’t reacted to her touch yet. 

Still keeping the raven in her hands she looked at it with hazy eyes and short calming breaths left her nose. She was relaxed. Almost falling asleep, ironic she thought, all this time she had been battling for sleep yet a bird by the fireplace is enough for her to lose her consciousness.

When she reached to take another pet the bird sporadically darted under her touch. Flinching slightly at the sudden movement she tried her best to grasp it again before it attempted to fly, potentially hurting itself in the process.

“Shhhh,  it’s ok “ she softly hushed, trying to lul it back to a relaxed state.

The bird stood on the stone ledge still in her grasp and she let it stand to get to know its surroundings.

The bird looked up at her somewhat perplexed but thankful for her presence. It made a slight crow at her before cocking its head to the side , blackened eyes staring back at her.

She smiled, stroking the top of its head with a gentle finger. The raven, as tired as it had been, began to shut its eyes and nuzzled back into her touch, falling back asleep. A few moments went by before she looked out the window to see the brightening of the clouds signaling the dawning of the upcoming day.

Realisation kicking in that she hadn’t slept the entire night, rubbing at her brows to release the tension and racing thoughts of the new day to come. 

Wondering what to do with the creature unsure whether to maybe give it to Hagrid to take care of or keep it for herself. Her face dropped in sadness at the thought of having to give it away. So she resorted to keeping it for the time being until she could find a more permanent place to keep it.

She would have to confide in her roommates opinions of the Raven and if they would let her keep it or not if it wasn’t an obstruction to them. She hoped for the best and picked up the Raven making her way back to her bed.

Placing the bird on her bed under some blankets as it slept soundly. She in turn decided to sit at her desk to finish some assignments she had been avoiding due to lack of sleep. Turning on the lamp beside her, her gaze flickered back outside the window, some of the crimson smears still faintly present but mostly gone, head resting against her hand as she watched the clouds part sitting in solitude. Her eyes closed and she appreciated the silence around her, it was almost heavenly.

With a final glance towards the raven, she turned her attention to her work. The morning lights that graced over her, for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.

[tsukiakurotori]

snow — for the single-word drive!

I was finally able to get snippets for this prompt! Thank you so much for it!

In fact, one of them is for a yet-to-be-introduced OC.... A sneak-peek, if you will. Hehehe...

Without further ado, my belated scene snippets! \(^-^)/💕

Tsukia:

A delicate snowflake drifted down to rest on the caramel square she had just pulled from the pouch in her pocket, leaving Tsukia frozen for a moment. She stared at the beautiful construct of ice, taking in what details she could before it melted under the heat of her breath. Giving a wistful smile, she carefully ate the candy, gazing up at the dark snow-laden clouds overhead. She needed to move on before it was too late. Otherwise, she would be stuck in the midst of a blizzard and even less likely to find any signs.  Though there already did not seem to be many. But even one gave her hope. With a gentle whistle, a white unicorn walked out of the drifts, shaking flakes of snow from her light blue mane. Reaching out, Tsukia obligingly brushed away those that had collected upon the unicorn mare’s long lashes. “Let us go, Rina. Before it grows ever colder here.”

And our mysterious one...:

As a figure dressed in crimson and onyx stepped from behind the shelter of the rocky cliff, the blizzard winds hit them full force, tugging at the midnight cloak around the figure’s shoulders. A small dark grey and white bird fluffed out its feathers with a soft rustle, the Silver Dasher nestling deeper into the black and red hair it had perched in. A pair of striking silver eyes gave an indulgent roll, a faint smile lifting a corner of the woman’s mouth. She raised her hood, patting it down gently atop the bird and giving her pointed ears a respite from the chill. Blinking snowflakes from her lashes, she strode forth, following a path amidst the endless drifts.

I hope you enjoyed these! And thank you for the amazingly fitting prompt! 🥰💕💕💕

[nyaagolor]

Arven has a bad time dot txt

-

Arven doesn’t feel like he’s in Area Zero anymore. He is— he knows that much, but all the dented metal and streaks of light seem a million miles away. The haze of crystals, glittering in the air like freshly fallen snow, coats everything in a fine, sparkling mist, and the bigger chunks of Tera crystals cast shining reflections across the walls. The Iron Valiant seems both in front of him and behind him, Violeta both to his right and left, every vision and sound in ten places at once. 

But the cacophony, the sights and sounds of vicious battle, seem almost pretty. Iridescent feathers catch the light, metal reflects the rainbow glow of attacks that blind the sky, and spikes and claws and fangs are matte with something dark and alluring. Around him, the artistic symphony marches onward, sending more flecks of crystals and flashes of light spinning around him, enveloping him in their glistening, overwhelming embrace. 

When he sees Miraidon arch up and up, shining electric in amidst the chaos, his breath catches. All the sounds and shapes and colors seem to fall into place around it, all the glitter and gold and rainbow shine from the violence crystallized into a single moment that makes his pounding heart sing. The onyx of the time machine encircles it like a halo. His terror and awe become one, the crashing wave of sickly cold anxiety rushing to his head and suddenly it all comes into euphoric clarity. 

He is terrified and enraptured. Pokémon fall around him, and the realization that he can’t find his friends, that they’re still lost in that landscape of chaos, is dismissed to a fading piece of the background in an instant. It is because this, this brilliant show, this fear-tinged exaltation, this electric glow, captivates him like the coming of a future god. Arven steps forward, feeling his hands on fabric sleeves, hears his voice so far away as he shouts something, as he shoves something, as he puts Violeta behind him and stares into his own reflection in Miraidon’s chromium claws. It tells him not to be afraid.

Arven knows this is Paradise. This is Heaven, its gates opened wide for him. And in a brief, terrifying moment of clarity, Arven understands exactly how his father felt in Research Station Four.

[foxglove-the-never-fairy]

Fairy Names Pt. 2

Fly with you! It’s been a while hasn’t it? Anyway, I’m here for a second part of one of my most popular posts.

The first post listed fairy names that were used in the DS game “Tinker Bell and the Great Fairy Rescue” in the create-a-fairy section of the game. While the names provided were feminine, I have pulled all of the masculine fairy names from the original Pixie Hollow game. Some names are repeats from the original post, but I kept them in as I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy. Here’s the original post.

~🧚🏻‍♀️🔥 Foxglove 

First

Aaron

Ace

Acorn

Agate

Ajay

Alabaster

Alder

Alec

Aleron

Alex

Anchor

Andrew

Archer

Axel

Badger

Bailey

Baker

Bale

Banjo

Barclay

Basil

Benjy

Bert

Bevel

Birch

Bo

Boomer

Boone

Brock

Bruce

Brynn

Buddy

Burr

Burton

Buster

Calder

Casper

Cecil

Cedar

Chance

Chase

Chip

Clay

Cliff

Coal

Cog

Comet

Cosmo

Cote

Covey

Crag

Crane

Cyan

Dale

Dane

Darius

Darrin

Dawson

Decker

Deon

Devlin

Dewey

Donner

Drake

Dug

Dunn

Dustin

Dusty

Echo

Eddy

Edward

Elk

Emery

Erik

Ernie

Errol

Fennel

Fincher

Finn

Fir

Flint

Ford

Francis

Garnet

Glen

Gourd

Gourdie

Grove

Grub

Gull

Hale

Hare

Harris

Hawk

Henry

Heron

Hob

Jacob

James

Jasper

Jay

Kernal

Koto

Lance

Lark

Leaf

Lore

Lute

Lyric

Martin

Maze

Mica

Michal

Nadir

Nester

Oak

Ollie

Onyx

Otter

Peat

Pier

Pine

Quake

Quarry

Quinn

Rain

Ranger

Reed

Richard

River

Robin

Rook

Rusty

Rye

Sage

Sam

Scout

Sean

Seth

Shale

Shoal

Skimmer

Skyler

Spike

Spruce

Sterling

Stone

Tad

Teak

Thatcher

Thistle

Timber

Tiny

Toadstool

Tobey

Todd

Topher

Torn

Torrey

Vail

Valiant

Vern

Vic

Wedge

Wes

Wren

Wynn

Zak

 Middle

Air

Almond

Apple

Aspen

Autumn

Badger

Bark

Beacon

Bear

Bitter

Brave

Bright

Brisk

Broom

Bumble

Candle

Cedar

Chilly

Citrus

Cloud

Cloudy

Clover

Cocoa

Copper

Cricket

Crow

Cub

Dapple

Dash

Day

Drift

Eagle

Elm

Evening

Falcon

Far

Fern

Fig

Fire

Fleet

Flicker

Foggy

Fox

Frost

Frozen

Funny

Garlic

Green

Hail

Hasty

Hawk

Hickory

Holly

Hurry

Ice

Ivy

Jelly

Jumpy

Lemon

Light

Lightning

Lime

Little

Lock

Lotus

Magic

Mango

Maple

Merry

Misty

Moon

Morning

Moss

Mossy

Mountain

Muddy

Never

Nickel

Night

Nimble

Oak

Orange

Otter

Parsley

Pear

Pebble

Pepper

Pine

Plum

Pollen

Pumpkin

Purple

Quick

Rain

Rainy

Rock

Rumble

Sage

Sandy

Sea

Shy

Silk

Slight

Snow

Sour

Speedy

Spider

Spring

Squall

Star

Storm

Stout

Strong

Sugar

Summer

Sun

Swift

Tangle

Thunder

Tiny

Toad

Tumble

Twisty

Water

Whiffle

Wild

Wind

Winter

Wrinkle

 Last

Beam

Bee

Bell

Berry

Breath

Breeze

Bug

Button

Buzz

Chill

Chime

Cliff

Cloud

Clove

Crash

Curl

Dale

Dance

Dash

Dew

Din

Drop

Dust

Ear

Elbow

Eye

Feather

Field

Fig

Flame

Flap

Flash

Fleck

Flight

Flip

Flipper

Fly

Fog

Foot

Forest

Freeze

Fruit

Garden

Gem

Glade

Glimmer

Glow

Gourd

Grace

Griddlee

Gust

Heart

Hill

Hop

Horn

Hush

Jewel

Knee

Lake

Light

Lock

Loop

Lull

Meadow

Mello

Mint

Mist

Moon

Muddle

Muse

Newt

Noise

Nose

Peal

Pebble

Petal

Pin

Plume

Pond

Pool

Ray

Ripple

River

Roar

Root

Row

Ruckus

Rumble

Sand

Shadow

Sky

Smash

Song

Spark

Sparkle

Sparrow

Speck

Spirit

Splash

Spring

Sprite

Sprout

Stem

Stone

Storm

Stream

Stripe

Swamp

Swirls

Thistle

Thorn

Toad

Tree

Twill

Twist

Vale

Valley

Vine

Weather

Web

Whirl

Whisk

Whisper

Willow

Wind

Wing

Wings

Wink

Wish

[stankycowboy]

a white raven lands on a low hanging branch nearby , its dark , unyielding gaze ominous as it fixes its attention on the savage one , as if it knows some life shattering secret it will not share.

Just the sound of wings is enough to still him, certain wildlife having come to mean things far different than they once had for the rambler. He pauses lighting his cigarette, eyes following the twisted trunk of the tree to settle on onyx pearls set in feathers fresh as newly fallen snow. Severen lets the flame go out, lowering his hands as he continues to stare. Its very presence is an ill omen, even with message undelivered. Although there was nothing that dictated that its presence was negative, he had been given enough warnings by Lira and kin to be wary of such sights—if his own upbringing amongst native tribes hadn’t taught him a certain respect. Even still, in younger years he may have tried to test his draw against such a willing fowl, but now seemed a poor time to attempt.

The vehicle behind him had long since cooled its engine— as had the life that has expired within—he could not help wishing that the motor still thrummed needing only him at the wheel to put this prescient moment behind him. But he’d learned one thing, you could only run so far before it all found you in the end anyway. Raising the lighter back up to the tip of his cigarette he finally brought it to burn, sucking in deep to fill his lungs with grey smoke. Contemplatively he leaned back, digging the toes of one boot into the loose gravel beneath; granting the bird his full attention. A slow, controlled exhale, and he was ready to hear it. “Go’n then”, he took another drag and flicked the small accumulation of ash into the wind, “I’m listenin’”. And for better or worse, he would hear it.

[crowpocrypha]

Gloomy nighttime Mina rant? You guessed it. I know these aren't really what people come to this blog for but: I drop them anyway.

I'll repost on sidenotes since that blog is intended for this kind of stuff.

I love to create. I've been mulling over a lot of my content push as of late because: I'm now seeing there's an audience interested in it—but I feel like I'm stuck in a rut without a place to go.

I still feel incredibly insecure about my art, writing, and even my poetry— despite the validation I get from people in my day to day life.

I write poetry to vent and stimulate, and while I can call myself a "Poet" on my resumé: I don't want to be a "poet".

As some of you may know, I'm writing a novel titled Onyx Feathers on Snow—and I use some of the sets from my OFOS universe in Crowley in Arkham—and characters and themes.

I never really wanted to dedicate as much time as I do to CIA: I always had the intention of using it to get comfortable writing dialogue exchange— but eventually it felt more like "Get it out. Quantity over quality."

Which is why there was a tonal shift back in October: so that I could bring back some semblance of "quality" to it.

Ironically, the way I write Jon? I absolutely despise— but I felt like he couldn't feel too much like a character that already existed in the universe I have: Luciel Bright. My criminologist/detective in my wip "Lady In White" the work that bore my first short-story back in 2019.

I'll probably end up reworking CIA to be more appealing to me: I was writing it during a horrible episode while I was overseas, and though I no longer have the time I had before, I still adore that someone reads CIA and people enjoy something I made.

I got overzealous when I realized I could have a following that is less interested in me and more interested in what I make.

Though this blog is mostly people interested in my shitposts and my Scarecrow simpage— I do like to know I don't have people following me because of something superficial.

It's just not for me.

I like that I can say something I think and have both validation and criticism.

I know that my followings absolutely do not overlap: and while I find that difficult to juggle— I can understand why.

The people who read my books aren't going to be interested in my livestreaming, and those that are—come join! I talk about my manuscripts all the time and you can hang out as I rant about my trial-and-error process and some of my concerns with major plot points or pondering the potential interpretations of my narrative.

Sometimes, I join the Jetwaves and we read standardized reading and give commentary on them.

I guess I did start this post regarding my insecurity on my internet persona, and whether or not I'll have to abandon it.

I don't want to— and I don't see myself doing that— but, you'll have to get used to these long bouts of be not posting much or— not much of interest.

I just have very little time; now that I've returned to my normal responsibilities and a full-time job.

I have to cut my work hours again for school— and while I love a lot of my daily job-- I'm woefully underpaid and my management is just disrespectful. (Quietly voicing my qualms with my corporate overlord—thank god nobody that works with me follows me)

I just have very little time to put towards what I want to do— that's to dedicate to my goal and– I hate to sound ignorantly romantic:

My dreams.

All I want out of life is to write a good book and be a decent author—but sometimes I think I'm not as passionate about writing as I should be.

I have no drive to write.

Sometimes, someone reminds me of the world I see in my mind’s eye and the sensations I feel walking through it. The look of the mountains looming overhead, the smell in the wind, the taste of the air, the feeling of the ground below, the bustling sound of the towns— I am taken with inspiration at the crunch of snow underfoot.

It's only then, when I'm forced to remember— that I want to write.

When someone is delighted by something I've written—or even cared to read it at all.

I want to write.

Yet, my father, who I trust much and appreciate now that I have him in my life: treats my dreams as he treated them before he read "Man of Glass"—like they were impossible and unrealistic.

I had to get published before my father realized it was a viable option for me.

I believe that to be my biggest qualm with him.

Sorry for going on for so long about this: I'll head to bed now. Thanks for reading, anyway.

[ithaquakisser]

Mother

Synopsis; Ithaqua dreams of his mother.

CW; Depictions of anxiety

WC; ≈ 1.2K

Note; I envisioned him to appear as he did prior to the manor in his dream. I also headcanon that his mother called him by a different name growing up for better context of the story. I tried my best to portray what I envisioned in my mind, I hope you guys enjoy. 😭 I recommend listening to Remember You by Mars Bars or Through The Eyes Of A Child by AURORA while reading for the full experience.

The snow takes no prisoners. The wind blew mercilessly against the young man's pale skin, wavy locks of hair dancing in the roaring winds. Alone he was, amidst the snowy gale. Azure eyes glistened under the faint rays of moonlight, peering through the thick clouds of the dark night skies. He stood in solitude, nothing but the cries of the wind in his ears filling the silence.

In the midst of the harsh blizzard, stood an older woman. Ruby curls draped over her shoulders, a nurturing smile on her face as she held her arms out towards the young man. Powerful wind currents blew past her long locks of hair as she called out a familiar name, one that only she spoke. A name only she knew. “Mother?”

Ithaqua’s cerulean eyes widened as he beheld the woman before him. “Mother!” Called out the hunter in desperation as he darted towards her, nearly stumbling on the snow beneath him. He was taken into a warm embrace by the red-headed woman, burying his face into the crook of her neck as she enfolded him in her arms. Ithaqua wrapped his arms around her, salty tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

The older woman had a benign smile on her face as she ran her hands through the boy’s soft hair. Her touch was warm and mild. Not a single word was spoken of her, he choked out a sob as he was held tenderly. Hot tears streamed down his rosy cheeks, the snowy tempest encircling them both. Her ivory dress flowed in the wind as she held him close. A hand soothingly caressed his tear-stained face, the howling wind ringing in their ears.

Mother, she who had always been kind. Her touch was ever so benign. She who sings you a melody so divine. She who holds you close on cold winter nights. She who protects you with all her might. Mother, she who has once brought light to your life. Mother, whose words cut like a knife.

She who could not bear to see his face, so akin to his own. Reaching out a hand is futile. The woman before him who caressed his skin oh so gently, hummed a familiar tune. His heart met peace upon her mild touch. The cool breeze brushed against his damp face as he closed his eyes. The gales were merciless, the snowy tempest enclosing the two of them. The air, light as a feather, he held onto the woman tightly.

Ithaqua slowly opened his eyes as the woman slowly began to dissipate before him into the roaring wind. “Wait! Mum!” He cried out as he reached out a hand towards the woman, wide-eyed. A vacant expression on her face as she became one with the gale. “Mum! Please!” Ithaqua repeatedly cried as he collapsed to his knees.

“Please… Don’t leave me here…” He sobbed, salty tears streaming down his flushed face. He sniveled as the howling wind stroked his skin. He cried like a tall child underneath the faded moonlight, his arms wrapped around himself as the blizzard embraced him as its own. Tears froze under the freezing temperatures, he could not bring himself to weep anymore. A heavy feeling in his chest weighed him down like anchors, for he felt breathless.

Ithaqua awoke with a sharp gasp to a voice which spoke his name. You stood before him, a hand on his dampened cheek. You wiped away the tears which threatened to fall from the corners of his onyx hues with the pad of your thumb. His hand clutched his chest as he stared at you, wide-eyed. He couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word for he was left breathless.

His lips quivered as he attempted to speak, instead choking out a sob as he burst into tears. He laid his head upon your chest as he wept, enclasping him into your arms. “It’s all my fault… Isn’t it?” Ithaqua mumbled. “None of this would’ve happened if she would’ve just… left me to rot.” All of his words were spoken in a state of hysteria.

His heart hammered against his chest as he spoke, brutally beating at his ribcage whilst his hands trembled. This wasn’t the first time you’ve observed him in such a state, albeit you couldn’t help but feel pained upon seeing him weep. You were the only one who could witness him in his state of vulnerability. The moments in which he’d melt under your touch and beg for more; where he’d allow you to remove his mask and behold his beautiful face, tracing a finger alongside his jawline and kiss the beauty marks on his face.

“Ithaqua.” You chimed, raising his chin to face you. His glassy eyes met yours as you fondly caressed his cheek with your thumb. “...How could I not be to blame?” He uttered, his voice quavering. “Your mother took you in and raised you as her own out of the pure kindness of her heart. You mustn't blame yourself for the circumstances at hand. After all, it wasn’t in your control.”

“You are doing all you can for the sake of avenging your mother. That’s enough already, dear. If you find yourself dwelling on the past any longer, you too would wind up losing yourself.” You frowned, running a hand through his disheveled waves. Teardrops dribbled like raindrops down his pale face, soft rays of moonlight illuminating the dimmed-lit room as he laid in your arms.

“That wouldn’t mean anything now, would it?” Ithaqua murmured. “Ithaqua…” You spoke, his eyes meeting yours as you took his hand. They resembled the midnight sea, glinting under the moonlight. “It means everything.” You emphasized. “I just don’t understand… Why are you so kind to me?”

You’ve brought his cold hand to your warm cheek, leaning against his touch. “The answer is obvious, is it not, love?” With your free hand, you wiped away the scattered tears remaining. “Tell me… Tell me why you are so kind.” “I’m not being kind to you, dear. I am telling the truth.” You stated with a benevolent smile. “Which is?”

“Deep down, your mother still loves you very much.” Ithaqua raised his head, averting his gaze from yours. There was a moment of silence between the two of you as you held his hands in yours. “I do not wish to see you wither away, Ithaqua.” You murmured. “If you wish to weep, then weep, permit me to wipe your tears. However, do not blame yourself for your misfortunes.”

“Y/N…” He whispered. “Ithaqua.” The young man lowered his head, his eyes fixed on your hands intertwined. You gently raised his chin, feelings of disquietude washing over him as his ebony eyes locked with yours. His heart quivered in his chest as his face flushed a shade of rogue. “I… love you,” Ithaqua uttered as he leaned closer to you. Your lips brushed against each other lightly as you slowly closed your e/c eyes.

You enfolded Ithaqua in your arms, his hands on your waist whilst you two exchanged a tender kiss. “Rest, won’t you?” You purred, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. ”I’ll be here, with you.”

[inkspellangel]

Find the Word Tag modified

I was tagged by my bestie @eccaiia !

My words are: feather, grass, bag, peer, and ride!

I'm 100% sure I don't have any of these words (except ride) So You'll get some facts instead. :'D (I also decided to not open the document for Keep Me Breathing until December)

I'll do an open tag and the words are: Person, Time, Crimson & Snow

Feather

Rio has a habit of picking Kaleb up from time to time. And since he(Rio) is such a workout nerd, Kaleb is almost as easy for him to carry around, as a feather.

Grass

There is a world outside of the Cave system, but I don't have a story set there yet. But it's also split into pieces. Separating the countrys from each other with an un-crossable ocean.

Peer

Alexandr is the second youngest of his siblings. His older brothers can be a pain, like all brothers are... But he's really close to his younger brother, Onyx.

Ride

Both Kaleb and Rio drives motorcycles. And Kaleb's friendly wolf is riding in a compartment in the back. Look up goRuffly for an idea of how it works.

[tobias-and-tyko]

Birdcage au. Chapter 10

They talked some more, but in the end Scar went back to his room. He sat down on the mattress in the room, sounds from the outside getting blurred by the collosal emptiness he now noticed. Now he understood why it had felt so empty, it was not easy to fill the presence of a god.

Still shocked by the news, he dug his hands into the sheets, relaxing and curling his fists around the cloth, the action similar to a cats. The only thing that hadn't ebbed out for him was the increasing noise of the blowing wind, it sounded like a whole storm.

Scar must have somehow fallen asleep despite the howling of the wind, because when he woke up again, the light that shone in through the open door was cold, like the light of the night. Clutching the cane in hand again, he wandered the corridors like a ghost, looking out at the full-blown snowstorm that had started a few hours ago, but did not show any signs of settling down.

Somehow, by walking through long-winded corridors, he ended up outside the lab again. Testing the handle of the door to see if it was locked, it revealed itself to be open. He set the door ajar and snuck in, having only one thing in mind. Looking at the doors that were in the lab, he didn't understand how he hadn't seen it in broad daylight. There it was, a heavy iron door with inscriptions against magic in copper and other small trinkets hanging on it, each being an enchantment against something. Scar stood in front of the door observing it. Then he desiselvy put his hand on the handle and pressed inwards. A loud scraping noise was heard as it opened, which made the skin on Scars hands prickle. He was surprised that the door wasn't locked, but then again, who would open it, the chained and sedated creature inside?

As the door opened, a sight met Scars eyes. Through a narrow window, light streamed down covering everything in a cold glow. The everything was Grian, chained by ankles and wrists curled up on the floor, black feathers glistening under the moonlight. They had all sorts of colors, deep green, dark blue, and even some violet. His eyes opened. They were no longer green.

It didn't matter to Scar, he still stumbled forwards, kleening down by the creature who looked at him, eyes full of shame.

He cupped his chin gently, looking deep into Grians eyes.

-“ Hello friend.” He said quietly. Tears welled out of his eyes, and he moved his limbs forward in an attempt to hug Scar. But the chains stopped him. A rustle was heard as they restrained him, keeping him in place. Instead Scar moved forward, softly embracing the creature who also put his arms around the other, hugging him tightly. They remained like that for a while, wind howling outside, as if to catch up with all the time they had been away from each other. In the end, Grian let go first, and carefully pushed Scar away, not meeting his eyes.

-“ It's my fault.” Grian said, breaking the silence. “ The snow is all my fault.” Scar raised an eyebrow, glancing at his friend with concern.

-“ What do you mean Grian, it's winter?” He replied confused.

-“ No, I have been away for too long, it will only get worse and worse. Spring will never come if I am not there. And now I will not be able to do it, because I've lost my powers.” He finally looked up, eyes filled to the brim with tears, irises the color of onyx brown. They looked empty, devoid of any sorts of magic, similar to what they have had before.

-“ Is there any way to fix it?” Scar asked after a few seconds of taking in what Grian had just said.

-“ Well, yes, there is a way, but that would involve me having to travel to the heart of the forest, and in the condition that I am in…” he didn't continue as he shook his head. Scar stood up not saying , looking around for the keys to the chains. He had decided, he would help the god of the forest.