#with talons fully extended

[pangur-and-grim]

my two beautiful girls who compress my lungs and do not let me sleep

[spider-man-2o99]

how do Miguel's claws/talons work

weird switchblade pig-stickers w/ a notable Hook 2 their curve meant for digging into Surfaces

[stellaaarree]

wanting to see miguel’s fangs.

hands cupping the skin of his cheeks, with the smirk pulling at your plush lips he already knew what was happening, feeling equally embarrassed no matter how many times it had happened, with a coo you speak. “cmonnn, let us see those fangs,hm?” a grumble leaving his mouth as his lips part just enough to see his sharp fangs. “i’ll bite you.” he warns, an empty threat…unless you asked for it. “and paralyse me? no chance.” you snap back in a ‘matter of fact’ way.

thumbs going past his lips with a smile, sharp fangs on view as his red eyes rolled for what felt like the hundredth time. “dios mío.” he groans, voice stupidly muffled by your fingers in his mouth. “shut up you’re gonna spit on me!” you whine, tilting his head up to get a pretty view of the pearly white canines. you had always had a thing for his fangs, wether they where deep in your neck or just subtly on view in a form of intimidation.

“you’re the one with your fingers in my mouth!” he snaps back, words still obviously muffled, trying to keep the spit to a minimum. “but papi,” you smile innocently. the nickname shutting him up real quick, the heat running to his usually stone cold cheeks unavoidable.letting his fangs fully come into view as his talons extended to maximise the ‘experience’ which he only tolerated for the sake of his amor.

finally pulling your thumbs out of his mouth after humming in appreciation. you where like his sweet little dentist, always helping keep those canines as bright and shiny as possible. wiping his saliva on the side of his suit he groans with a “really?” you respond wittily of course. “well it’s yours isn’t it?”

leaning his head up he presses his lips to yours in partly spite, partly love. pulling back breathless after a couple of seconds with a sneaky. “now it’s ours.”

he always had to have the last word.

[virtues-end]

What mutations does MC have in their human form if they get any from their bound entity. If we chose to transform through the seals when fighting the Hel would it look like a hybrid?

The main character essentially has three forms: fully Sealed (which appears mostly human), hybrid (mix between the two), and full monster. Shea has never let the main character transform into their full monstrous form since Binding the MC.

When fully Sealed, the helvling's inhuman traits only manifest very briefly, and at certain times (feeling angry or scared, when attacking or defending, that sort of thing). And your character page will actually reflect the changes in your helvling's appearance (during the fight with the hekse as well, if you chose to go against Shea's orders), so keep an eye out for things like that. 👀

I've added the descriptions for the different helspawn entities under the cut. Note that these are not the helvling's hybrid form, but somewhere inbetween, since Shea did not properly release the helvling's Seal.

Your human visage has taken on a monstrous appearance, clearly marking you as something other.

Barghest: Elongated fingers extend into wickedly sharp, black-tipped claws, whilst a writhing darkness rises up around you, black tendrils coiling around your feet. Your eyes emit an eerie ${mc_markcol} glow, pupils narrowed to slits, and long, menacing fangs protrude from your mouth.

Nokken: Elongated fingers extend into wickedly sharp claws, whilst a sheen of glorious iridescent scales covers your once-human skin. Your eyes emit an eerie ${mc_markcol} glow, an unsettling mist coiling around your feet, and menacing rows of razor-sharp teeth fill your mouth.

Basilisk: Elongated fingers extend into wickedly sharp, bird-like talons, whilst raised rows of glimmering metallic scales cover your once-human skin. Your eyes emit an eerie ${mc_markcol} glow, pupils narrowed to slits, and long, menacing fangs protrude from your mouth.

Sylvan: Elongated fingers extend into wickedly sharp, spindly claws, whilst your once-human skin has hardened, taking on the appearance of rugged bark. Your eyes emit an eerie ${mc_markcol} glow, the ground trembling beneath your feet.

[tsunami-of-tears]

Wingspans

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 5 (Favourite Tropes)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Y/N is eager to learn more about the Illyrians - for healing purposes of course. 

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 3.2K

A/N: I had an idea and it ran away from me, hence the title change. 

This entire week features some of my favourite tropes (idiots in love and everyone else can see it, aphrodisiacs, friends to lovers, etc) but I’ve focused on wings for this part, along with one bed at the end for a treat 😘

Warnings: wing clipping; female healthcare issues; allusion to domestic abuse; domestic mate stuff; multiple smut scenes (wingplay, PiV, double penetration).   

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been fascinated with wings. 

Every pair you’ve come across has been uniquely beautiful and awe-inspiring, but the thing you envied most about winged fae was their ability to fly.

You have your father to thank for that - for inheriting the call of the wind. A call you’d never been able to answer. 

Now, thanks to the Cauldron, you were blessed with two winged mates. 

The three of you had been edging around the bond since it snapped a few weeks ago. It hadn’t been formally accepted yet as you all agreed to get comfortable with the dynamic first. 

Since you started courting Cassian and Azriel, your fascination with their wings only grew. 

You would watch how the strong muscles flex as they carried you in the sky. You would admire them stretching out in the warmth of the sun. 

You also started to notice the little quirks both of your mates had. 

When they are cold, they tuck their wings in closer to their frame; when Azriel is proud of something, he holds his wings up higher; and when Cassian laughs, his wings flutter as his shoulders rise and fall. 

There’s also the quirks during sex. 

The subtle twitch and the slight curling of the outer edges as they reach their climax.

Learning about how their wings worked would only make you a better healer, so you spend your limited free time pouring over medical journals and reading Madja’s notes from over the years. The theory was a good foundation, but the best way for you to learn is with practical experiences. 

The first time you got to touch them was with Azriel. He had caught you staring at his wings. 

He was training on the rooftop of the House of Wind, his wings were fully extended behind him. The sunlight glowed red through the thin membrane. They were captivating. 

A few shadows hurry over to greet you, like a playful puppy nipping at your feet.

Azriel turns, smiling at you and catches your gaze. “What are you staring at?” he smirks. 

“Your wings are mesmerising,” you say softly.

Azriel stretches them out wider for you, showing off his wingspan before giving you a wink and returning to his training.

He stopped by your clinic later where you were reading through a detailed tome about wing physiotherapy. You were so engrossed in the text, that you didn’t see him slip in.

You jump when you finally notice him towering above you. “Cauldron, you scared me Az.”

“I’m sorry, you make a cute face when you're concentrating, I didn’t want to interrupt. What are you reading?” Azriel walks around to your side of the desk, looking down at the scrawled handwriting filling the pages in your hands. He smirks down at you. “Is there a particular reason that you’re so obsessed with wingspans, Y/N?”

Your cheeks heat, and you look up at Azriel. “I want to be prepared… If the need arises.” You glance at the sharp talons poking over your mate’s broad shoulders. 

He leans down and flicks through a few pages of the tome. “The diagrams are good but it’s not quite the same,” he says. “Do you want to examine my wings?”

“Are you sure? I know they are quite sensitive. I don’t want to cross any line.”

The corners of his mouth curl upwards at your apprehension. “It is in my favour to help you, so you can heal me if need be. But, there’s no one I trust more.” 

————

Azriel had removed his shirt, allowing you access to his back and wings. His wings were spread, the leathery membrane taut between each bone. Your fingertips delicately traced each ridge as Azriel expanded and contracted his muscles. 

Your hands are warm with your healing magic as you gently stroke them against the sensitive skin. Azriel’s knuckles turn white as he grips the tabletop he’s braced against. You can tell it’s taking all of his self-control not to fuck you then and there. 

When you ran the edge of his wing between your thumb and index finger, he snapped. Azriel spun around, grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the workbench behind you. 

Azriel’s lips are on yours, hurried and hungry as he takes your lower lip between his teeth. You gasp against his mouth as he bites down before kissing along your jawline. 

His hands roam your body, branding your flesh with need. 

You fumble with the button on Azriel’s pants as he hikes up your dress and pushes your panties to the side. His fingers dip straight in, your core already soaked and throbbing. 

You had known exactly what you were doing when you started examining his wings… 

You finally free Azriel’s cock from the constraints of his leathers, and he grinds his hips against yours. 

Your lips find each other again as he ruts into you; not waiting to let you adjust, you don’t need to. Your veins are filled with lust as he pounds into you. The steady rhythm combined with his thumb on your clit sends you over the edge. 

One hand grips behind his neck tightly as you climax, and you reach with the other to run your fingers along the inside of his wing. That stroke was his undoing, and he finished deep inside you.

You feel his cock twitching as you stay in your embrace, regaining your breath. 

“Fuck, Y/N, that was…” Azriel pants, kissing your forehead tenderly. 

“That was a breach of the healer/patient relationship,” you laugh. 

Azriel smirks, “You can take advantage of me any day, angel.” 

————

The next time, you tried it with Cassian. 

He was underneath you as you rode him. Your hands flat on his chest for support as you rocked back and forth. 

You looked at his wings splayed beneath him, and then to his eyes - a silent question. 

“I’m all yours, you can touch anywhere you want, angel.

He grips your hips harder, lifting his to meet your thrusts.

You softly trace along a prominent vein and Cassian throws his head back, moaning loudly. 

He thrusts up into you without abandon, hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and reaching your climax together. 

The sound of your breathing fills the room as you lay down in Cassian’s arms. Your head resting on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll never tire of this,” he whispers against your hair.

————

Soon after that fateful training exercise, you began working closely with the Valkyries. If any conflict arose, you’d be stationed with them as a healer. The all-female unit had grown to 50 warriors in the years since its revival. With Nesta now residing in Autumn with Eris, the unit is led by Gwyn and Emerie.

The first time you met Emerie, your heart broke.

Her wings were nothing like the mighty appendages held high by your mates. 

They were beautiful but brutal. 

Thick jagged scars cut across the planes of her wings, starting at the very base. Her wings had very limited movement, and on cold mornings, you notice a slight twinge in the left one.

Still, Emerie carried herself proudly with her wings as tall as she could manage. A true Valkyrie.

After observing her from afar, your research changed direction. You were driven by your new purpose - helping your friend and the countless females like her. 

There were limited existing resources on clipped wings, so you proposed a clinical study to Rhys. He issued approval instantly and, to Lord Devlin’s dismay, he set up a clinic in Windhaven for you to meet with patients. 

Many females were scared to visit you, out of fear of retaliation from their husbands and fathers. But there were still many brave souls who came forward, allowing you to examine them. 

Progress was slow, but both the physical and emotional support you provided was making a difference. 

————

Today you had a female visiting from another camp. You walk into the waiting room with a warm smile on your face. You’re always so proud to see new patients. 

“Victoria? I’m Y/N, your new healer. Please come inside.” You say to the female. 

She gives you a shy smile, lowering her gaze as she walks past you into your office. 

“Thank you for making the trip to see me. I will do my best to help you, however I can. Take a seat on that cot there,” you gesture towards the bed in the middle of the room. You meet her eyes as you continue, your voice filled with sincerity. “I want you to remember this is entirely on your terms. I will only touch you, or offer treatment with your consent, do you understand?”

Victoria nods, brushing a single tear from her cheek at your words. 

“Good. If it’s okay, I’d like to see the extent of the damage. Can you show me your range of movement?” You give Victoria an encouraging nod. “Lift, wonderful. Now lower them. You’re doing amazing. And now extend them as far as you can outwards - like you’re stretching.” You demonstrate with your arms, extending them out to the side.  

Victoria’s wings shudder slightly as she strains to stretch them out but they barely shift. 

“You’re doing so well, I know this is difficult. Can I touch you? I want to get a feel of the scarring if that’s okay.” 

She nods hesitantly. 

“If you want me to stop at any time, please tell me.”

“Okay,” she says. The first words you heard from her mouth.

“I’m just letting my magic get a sense of the damage, my hand might feel cool along the inner side of your wings.” You move to stand behind Victoria and start on the biggest scar. The tissue is jagged and bumpy, and as pale as the moon. Your healing magic flows through you, washing over the surface of the scar but unable to penetrate. This is the worst case of wing clipping you’ve seen so far. You aren’t sure how much movement she’ll be able to regain, but you have to try.

You walk around the cot to face her and finish your consultation, asking all your standard questions about pain and mobility. 

You pick up a glass jar filled with a numbing salve. “I’d like you to start by applying this to the scars once a day.” You demonstrate the amount of product to apply before handing over the jar. “If you’re particularly sore you can apply it a second time. You may need some help reaching around the back, do you have someone at home that you trust?”

“I live with my sister and her family. She’ll help,” Victoria says.

“Okay good, if you do need somewhere to stay during the treatment, it can be arranged. And if you don’t feel safe, we can help with that too.” 

Victoria nods in thanks.  

“I’ll see you again in 4 weeks. If you run out of the salve, send word.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.” Victoria smiles at you, looking more hopeful than when she first arrived. You help her into her coat and escort her out of the clinic. 

Once outside, you look up and see the sky is swirling with storm clouds and the sun is just about to dip behind the mountains. The wind howls through the surrounding trees. A big gust hits you and you feel the ice in your very bones. 

You bid goodbye to Victoria and trudge home. On clinic days you often stay in Rhys’s mother’s cabin with your mates. 

Warmth envelops you as you step over the threshold, along with the smell of your mates and a hot dinner. 

You kick off your boots and giggle as shadows help you with your coat. Cassian is standing over the stove as Azriel sets the table. Azriel stops what he’s doing to kiss you hello. 

“How was your day, angel?” Azriel asks. 

“It was good. I had a new patient, it always breaks my heart to see the trauma that’s been inflicted.” You instinctively reach for Azriel’s hand, stroking the back with your thumb. “I hope I can ease that pain, even just a little bit.” 

“You’re doing such great things,” Cassian says, juggling the three bowls and a bottle of wine. You and Azriel quickly reach out to help him and sit down together.

“We’re so proud of you,” Azriel states, adoration across his face. 

You smile back. “I do have you both to thank for all of this. I’ve worked with many kinds of wings before, but I think yours are the most fascinating.” 

“What kinds of wings?” Cassian asks. 

“Well, in Spring, many faeries have wings similar to insects. They are very delicate but they don’t have the same soft tissue and nerve ends. Then there are the Peregryns, they have fewer bones in their wings than Illyrians - but the feathers…” You laugh. “If you think Illyrians are protective of their wings, you should see a Peregryn if you touch their feathers.”

Azriel gives you a curious look, “Do you have much experience with Peregryns?”

“Mostly just my father, but I didn’t get to see him very often,” you answer plainly. Cassian nearly chokes on the wine he was sipping and Azriel’s eyes widen in shock.

“How have you never mentioned this?” Cassian asks you incredulously.

“I don’t know, it hasn’t come up. Obviously, I didn’t inherit any physical characteristics. I didn’t think it was important,” you shrug.

“Every part of your history is important,” Azriel says with complete sincerity. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intentionally keep it from you.” 

“I guess that explains how you took to flying so quickly,” Cassian remarks. 

You shake your head at your mates as you return to your meal. 

You finish up the cozy evening with Cassian and Azriel who had many questions for you about different wingspans. Namely, which race has the biggest. Even if it wasn’t the truth, you would have said Illyrians.

————

A few weeks later, Winter had well and truly arrived. 

You’re in a distant Illyrian camp making some supply drops and home visits. Both Cassian and Azriel join you, using any excuse to spend more time with you. 

It’s a relatively small camp, you have a handful of patients here so it’s only meant to be a quick stop. But, as the afternoon progresses, the weather takes a turn for the worse. 

“We’ll have to stay here overnight,” Cassian says. “We can’t risk flying in a storm and Azriel can’t winnow with both of us.”

Fortunately, there is a rundown but warm inn just outside of the camp. Unfortunately, with the incoming snowstorm, all of the rooms are booked. All but one. 

You enter the tiny room behind your mates who both need to bow their heads to fit inside. It would be a cramped lodging for two high fae but with three of you plus two pairs of wings…

Cramped is a severe understatement. 

————

You get ready for bed as best as you can, manoeuvring around each other with great difficulty. 

Finally you settle in, comforted by the warmth seeping into you from both sides. 

The bond is still new, you’ve not been in such close proximity to your mates, with so few layers between you and not touched them.

The heat radiating off both Cassian and Azriel was driving you wild. And based on their strong scents, it was having the same effect on them. 

Cassian’s groans break the silence. “Godsdamnit, Y/N. You’ll be the death of me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You exclaim. 

“That’s the point,” Cassian chuckles. 

You decide to tease him further by pushing your butt back against him, rubbing against his hardening length. 

Cassian groans again and wraps his arms around your waist, hands groping your breasts. Azriel leans on his forearm and locks eyes with you. You gasp as Cassian pinches your firm nipples and starts nipping at your earlobe. Cassian’s hand starts to trail lower, and you can’t hold in your moan as it slips down to your core, dragging through your growing wetness.

Desire overwhelms your senses. You don’t care about the space or lack thereof. You need your mates. 

Azriel starts to palm himself, moaning softly as you send images down the twin bonds. Images of how you want them. 

“Are you sure, angel?” Cassian whispers into your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean further into his embrace, “I’m sure. I need you both.”

You sit up and straddle Azriel, grinding your dripping slit against him. Azriel holds your hips firmly, pushing you down to provide more friction for both of you. 

You look over at Cassian with slightly glazed eyes. You nod at him, confirming your desire. 

He kneels on the bed behind you, there’s just enough room that he doesn’t hit his head on the low support beam. He squeezes your ass as he kisses down the side of your neck. Azriel starts circling your clit with his thumb as you continue to rock on top of him. 

You lean forward slightly, hands braced on Azriel’s chest as Cassian drags his cock along your slit, collecting your arousal. 

Azriel positions himself at your entrance as Cassian lines up at your rear. 

“Are you quite sure, angel?” Cassian asks again. 

“Yes… Please,” you whine softly.

Azriel lowers your hips, burying himself inside you as you both moan at the tightness. Your eyes flutter at how full you feel, and Cassian hasn’t penetrated you yet.

You feel pressure against your rear as Cassian pushes against you. “Are you ready?” He asks. 

You nod in answer, already struggling for words. 

Azriel resumes his steady circles as Cassian pushes into you. The stretching sensation is so intense you let out a strangled cry. “Are you okay?” Cassian asks. 

“Yep, I just need a moment to adjust.” 

Cassian resumes kissing your jaw as your body gets used to the full feeling.

“I’m ready,” you say and Cassian starts to slowly move in and out. 

Azriel starts thrusting, matching Cassian’s timing. 

“So full,” you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head as the pleasure overwhelms you. 

With each thrust, your clit rubs against Azriel’s groin, bringing you closer and closer to that sweet release. 

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long,” Azriel pants. Cassian moans in agreeance.

Your fingers gravitate to your nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs as you’re hurled to the finish line. 

“Cum for us, angel,” Azriel commands, and you do. 

You cry out as you hit your climax, louder than usual. Both your holes clench as your mates wring scream after scream of pleasure from you. 

They both follow closely behind as you grip them tightly. As the moans and cries subside, the room is filled with the sound of panting. 

Cassian pulls out of you first, collapsing beside Azriel. 

Azriel helps lift you off of him and nestles you in between himself and Cassian. He kisses you lovingly as Cassian’s hand dips between your legs - using a washcloth to clean you up. 

Once clean, he pulls you close to his chest and wraps his wings around you and Azriel. 

Feeling content in your bubble with your mates, sleep finds you and takes you into its loving embrace.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

[thetxtdevil]

Witch's Brew

Taehyun x Reader

summary: a simple fairytale of a witch in the woods doing her duties of potion making with her raven familiar. however the familiar isn't just a bird to help with her responsibilities...

content: smut w/ plot, witch f.reader, familiar/demon taehyun/terry, dom taehyun, mentions of masturbation, begging, oral (fem receiving), slight spanking, bulge kink, let me know if i'm forgetting anything

word count: 3k

"a drop of vampires’ white blood, two tears of a siren, herbs from the troll's garden, water from the still stream"

your hands wave in circular motions over a big charcoal cauldron. your face glows the numerous hues from your potion. along side you a raven perched on a back of a wooden chair watching closely to the boiling concoction.

"here are the makings of the weeping soup!"

the potion's boiling bubbles get more abundant. the steam turns into weeping ghost like figures reflecting the name. a grin appears on you face and with wide eyes you look at the weeping soup with hunger. as it is your dinner for tonight.

"terry, darling, would you fetch me a ladle?"

the raven you spoke to croaks back to you and flies away. coming back as soon as you turn to the two bowls on the cauldron's side table. picking one up you raise your hand up the dark bird flies over and drops the spoon with its talons into your lifted hand. you scoop up the soup pouring it into the beautifully carved bowl and set it down. you then grab a smaller bowl and do the same but you place it down in-front of the raven.

the raven gurgles with contentment. you give him a big smile as you pick up your bowl and walk over to your sofa. extending your finger towards the tv, a flicker of electricity turns on the box and you watch with delight.

you were a witch raised by a coven of witches. you knew all things magic and the creatures who live amongst the magic. you excelled in potion making however, you fell behind the great skill of memorizing and brightness. you are smart, not a lot of witches could understand the art of potions but sometimes you could get a little... distracted.

your mother would find you in tears after you accidentally tipped over a bowl of bubbling liquid on the floor or the time a potion exploded in your face because you forgot to add a pinch of wolves fur.

this fact made your 16th birthday exciting as it is the age when a witch receives their familiar. familiars were demons that would obey you along with help you and they usually took the form of an animal. the day of your 16th birthday your coven dug up a black crystal that shimmered hues of blue and silver. you were beyond excited to see what your new friend would be.

you place it on your night stand next to your bed that night. you stared at it with big eyes until you fell asleep. drifting off you find yourself in a dream like state. everything was dark with white and grey smoke that formed shapes. you follow the patterns of the smoke and then you see the smoke stops you by forming a shape of a young man.

he was unreal. the figure had sculpted muscles, his teeth were bright and beautiful, encapsulated by sweet lips.

"who are you?"

"i am taehyun."

"kiss me" you blurted out

the man smiles at you but doesn't do anything. taehyun's body starts to fade away and you rush towards him but it was too late. you wake up with a loud sound of a bird's call. you wince at the sound along with the sun hitting your eyes. you look over to see that your black crystal has been replaced with a beautiful black raven.

you were a fully grown witch now. you had a few years with your familiar you named terry and graduated earning the title of potioneer. it was time to move on, your coven didn't want you to leave, but you knew you had to do it besides your house was only 10 minutes away if you take a broomstick.

your house was a classic witches' cottage. small, wooden, with vines overgrowing it. yet it had the necessary advancements of modern day living: a working toilet and shower, heater, ac, wifi. it was all you and terry needed.

one morning after it rained all night, the sun was rising making the grass and vines shine. terry flew over the fields of freshly watered grass scavenging items for your future potions as you were still asleep. as the raven was enjoying the smell of earth he notices a women running. terry isn't too worried about her until he sees the lady heading towards the cottages. terry soars to the window of your bedroom. he croaks loudly making sure you wake up.

"huh? what?"

you're a mess waking up by terry's noises. and that's when you hear a loud knock at the door. terry flys up on the cottage’s roof to over hear the two. you open the door to see a familiar face from your coven.

terry on the roof leans down. he's protective of you and doesn't want any intruders messing around.

"y/n! y/n! you have to help us our coven was cursed and a plague is spreading!"

"what? how did this happen?"

"one of the younglings was blamed for stealing a flower from another's coven's garden and they were not too fond of that"

you were stunned. witches are known to be cruel but to put a curse upon a whole coven because of a small thing was medieval.

"we have repelled the curse but people are still sick. i know you're good at making potions so i thought you could make a cure"

there was no way you could say no. this was your family it was your duty to use your abilities to help. so thats what you plan to do. you pack a basket of food and simple potions for the women to take back until you make a cure for the plague.

terry and you are off on your task. you take a trip to the mystical farmer's market trying to find ingredients: rosemary, pixie dust, lavendar, four leaf clovers, anything that would show signs of health. terry flies over a rock shop croaking at you.

"no terry i don't think stones would be useful"

he caws again, you ignore until terry lands on your shoulder and nips your ear.

"ow, ok, if you insist"

you walk over to the rock booth looking over the great selection. you pick up a amethyst and a rose quartz. you were about to settle on those two until you found a rock that resembled the crystal you received when getting your familiar. you smiled looking at terry, his raven head tilting so his eyes can look at you. you buy the rock and thought to yourself even though you're not going to use it, it was nice to have as decoration.

after a million of tries and fails you start to give up hope. ingredients were everywhere, some burnt and ripped. the raven watches cry out of frustration. you crash on your sofa to rest your head. terry flies over laying a blanket on top of your tired body.

"y/n... y/n!"

your eyes open to darkness. your look around to see smoke like shapes you've seen before. looking beside you, you see the man from you dream a long time ago.

"taehyun?"

"hi"

"hi... what are you doing in my dreams again"

"you're giving up hope which means you're giving up on your coven"

"i know but i'm having a hard time" you lean your head down

"you need to try again" the man rubs his pointed nose on your cheek lovingly

"but i've done everything"

"not the stone"

"the stone?" that damn stone terry wanted you to buy "will you finally kiss me if i use it"

just like before taehyun smiles at you and he wraps his body around you until his body turned into fog. a slight "i will." was the last thing you heard from him.

you wake up feeling a little more rested. turning your head to the work table your see your raven perched next to that black stone. you got up to take a good look at the stone, it even had the same shimmer of blue and silver the familiar crystal had. you look at your empty cauldron and then back at the stone. you lifted the stone and threw it at the bottom of the cauldron breaking it into smaller pieces.

the opened rock blasted bright light that filled the dim cottage. terry started to croak at the scene and fly up to grab more ingredients. both you and terry started throwing things in the cauldron like the broken rock's light opened your minds. after hours of spell casting and stirring, the potion was made. this was going to work you could feel it in your potion making bones.

even though it was nighttime you did not want to wait for the next day to deliver the cure. the coven has been waiting patiently and you didn't want to fail them. you wrap yourself in your purple cloak, putting a heavy bowl of potion in a basket, you straddle your broomstick and fly to your old home.

terry arrives before you croaking loudly to awaken the coven. the ones who were less sick came out to greet and praise you. they lead you to the child who was hit hard by the curse. you pour a cup of the white illuminated liquid and give it to the child. terry and you watch closely as the youngling blooms like a flower as soon as she gulps the potion. you turn to look at terry with the biggest smile and the whole coven gathers to get the trusted potion.

you arrive at the cottage after spending time at your first home. you were exhausted, you could feel the heaviness of the dark bags you had under your eyes. but you told yourself that you saved the day. you waddle to your bed and sink into it. the beautiful raven watched from the window as you close you eyes to rest.

as usual the sunrise awakens your tired eyes. you try to turn your body away from the sun's gaze but you then realize there's something in your way. this something was bigger than you, and had their arm around your waist. you freak out leaping out of bed.

"what the hell terry where are you when i need you?" you thought to yourself. looking at the sleeping intruder you found yourself dizzy from the fact that it wasn't a stranger, it was taehyun, a very naked taehyun at that. you climb back on your bed to get a closer look at the beautiful man.

in your dreams taehyun was only shades of white and blurry but now he was very real and detailed. tan skin that glowed in the sun, his muscles seemed more defined in real life, his face was soft yet structural. your hand instinctively strokes his hair, admiring it you realize he had black hair with strands of dark blue and silver.

taehyun slowly opens his eyes, blinking a few times to grasp his environment. he looks at you and smiles.

"hi y/n"

"h-hi"

his voice was sweet yet raspy. you lay your head down so you were looking at him at the same level. he smiles just like he has in your dreams.

"so you're real" you poke his bare shoulder

he huffs a laugh "you mean you haven't figured out?"

you look at him confused

"i'm the demon who helps you"

your eye bulge out of your eyes "terry?!"

he laughs at you while pushing you disheveled hair out of your face.

"you're supposed to obey me so everytime time i've asked you to kiss me you were supposed to"

"you're very persistent on that, but that was only a dream"

you frown. you've been so obsessed with the appearance of this man, now that he his real and right in front of you the more you actually want to touch him.

"i did promise that i would kiss you if you used that stone"

"you sure did" you smile

taehyun lifts his head and leans in to kiss you slowly. your mind was exploding the handsome man from your dreams was finally kissing you. the kiss lasted for a while until you finally understood that this was terry your raven. the raven that has seen you naked when you get dressed, the raven whose seen you do some questionable things because you live alone. you lean away from taehyun's kiss and rub your forehead.

"hey what's wrong?"

tae turns your head towards him so he can read you. your blush gave away your embarrassed thoughts to tae.

"yes I've been with you all this time, but i pledged to be with you forever"

the statement felt caring and comforting. you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and pushed into another deep kiss with the man. this time it felt heated. tae shifts from his spot to hover you. his hands roamed your body softly as if he thought you'd break if he pushed too hard. he kisses your face, jaw, and nips at your ear

"do you just want me to kiss you or do you want more?"

"more" you whine

"more what?"

"more of you, i want you and anything... please"

he smirks at you politeness and does what he is told. kissing you he reaches to the little tied bow holding the collar of your dress and loosens it. he leaves your lips to leave a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck and chest. tae finds himself a little impatient with you dress since there was no easy way to take it off other than tearing it apart. the sound of torn fabric fills your ears.

"terry!" you gasp

taehyun doesn't say anything as he goes back to kissing your body. he had a destination in mind something he's thought of everytime you touched yourself thinking you were alone. stopping himself right above your clothed pussy he looks up at you. your eyes are on him without saying anything he can tell that you were begging him to do something.

just like your poor dress he grabs the thin cloth covering your sweet parts and rips it off. before you could scold the man tae dives his face into your pussy. lapping all the juicy you made just from him kissing you. you grab and pull his raven black hair as you moan loudly. tae pushes a finger in your cunt thrusting it along his tongue. he enjoyed this, eating you out like you never fed the raven. he purposely moans to send vibrations to your core. he replaces his tongue with another finger and starts to suck on your clit. he glaces at his witch whose back was arched with eyes squeezed shut. he reaches his other hand from you thighs to your breast. groping and pinching he was determined for you to cum the hardest you've ever had.

"i- i'm... ugh..."

your body was shaking you couldn't get the words out hot from taehyun's touches. tae didn't want to stop his tongue on your cunt so he hummed. this put you to your last breaking point cumming onto tae as he laps the cum all up.

taehyun lifts his torso up, now on his knees between your legs. he takes the time to look at the sinful sight. your clothes were ripped and the holes were only showing off the part that are usually covered. plush legs spread just for him, breasts moving up and down breathing hard from the orgasm, you had dried up tears on you blushed face. it was beautiful to the demon.

he watched your eyes drift down to his exposed member. the size and bulkiness was enough to make you wet again. tae smirks and hovers over you again to peck your lips.

"say it."

"use that pretty cock and fuck me already"

taehyun shivers at your dirty command. he kisses you one more time before straighting up again.

"flip over and ass up"

with no questions asked you turn your body and lifted your ass straight to tae's face wiggling it a bit. he lifts his hand up to smack down the plush flesh. you squeak at the action which again excites taehyun. he bends over your body giving you a kiss on the shell of your ear whispering

"i like the sounds you make for me will you make more with my dick ruining your cunt?"

you moan a yes dropping you head down as you feel his big erection against your soaking heat. his hands grip your hips as he pushes into your tight walls. tae throws his head back gasping at the feeling. he waits there letting you adjust only for you to start rocking your hips back and forth. tae then takes the lead thrusting into your core faster and faster listening to every noise you make.

you felt beyond good, way better than anything else. you then felt his hand on your belly pushing down. you gasp at what his intention were to feel his bulge that he was creating.

"can- you fill me up?"

tae smirks "as you wish"

tae's thrust became quicker and you joined by moving your hips. his hand still on your belly then drifts towards your clit. the heated feeling came back to you making your tight wall clench around tae. both of you lose your rhythm tae's motions on your clit becomes rushed which help you to your second climax which in turn helps tae to his. your cum now everywhere you whimper at the overstimulation of the man still going. tae keeps his word by blasting inside you covering every bit of your walls white.

he slumps over your torso sweaty flesh clinging to one another. tae snuggles you, head in the crease of your neck giving a few kisses here and there while lightly rubbing shapes onto you're skin.

"if you were terry this whole time why couldn't you have helped me out?"

"helped you with your potions or with your poor fingering skills?" he nips your ear again.

you both smile to yourselves and eventually fall asleep again.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

[venerablemonk27]

I found the Snowy Owl! Using the recent sightings reported in the area as my guide, I went driving around Dane, WI yesterday. I stopped to scan a corn field with my binoculars and spotted this guy perched on a fence post.

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and stares directly at the camera. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

I knew right away the large white bird on the post was the Snowy I was after, so I quickly grabbed my camera and got out to find a good spot to set up. Of course, as soon as I got the bird in frame he decided to fly up to the roof peak of a farm building further away. Even so, I sat down and took a few long-distance bursts in case that was only look I would get. Then I noticed that there was a house among the farm buildings. If someone was home maybe they'd let me take a closer look?

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and looks into the distance to the left. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

Just as I'd hoped, the folks living there were home and they were happy to let me onto their property for a chance at a better photo. They even pointed out a good spot behind a concrete wall where I could stand totally out of sight of the corn field. It turned out to be such a good blind that all the shots in this post were taken there. And just as we were talking, the Owl flew back down to that same fence post!

[ID: A male Snowy Owl sits on a wooden fence post and looks into the distance to the right. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

He was very cooperative, sitting mostly still while I fiddled with settings and let the auto-focus pick between the snow and the post. I figure he was hunting, scanning the field for little creatures. Then he did a little preening and stretched his neck before taking flight!

[ID: A male Snowy Owl takes flight. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His eyes are yellow and partly closed. His wings are fully extended upward and his shaggy legs hang down below, showing just a hint of black talons. Its eyes are closed to slits. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

[ID: A male Snowy Owl flies low over a snow-covered corn field. He is almost entirely white, with a few brown flecks on the wings and breast. His wings are extended downward, showing the full pattern of white and brown flecks on the flight feathers. His eyes are closed to slits. A light snow falls around the Owl. End ID]

He didn't immediately pounce on anything, instead wheeling up toward a tree across the field. I thought he would land up there, but instead he flushed a smaller dark bird and started chasing it! Zooming in on the photos of the sortie revealed that the enemy was either a Cooper's or a Sharp-shinned Hawk. I wish I could have seen how that encounter turned out, but they flew out of sight across the field.

[ID: A male Snowy Owl chases a hawk in the distance, flying through the snowfall near a large barn. End ID]

Even without a high-speed pursuit, seeing the Snowy Owl so close was my top birding moment of the year so far. Many thanks to Dean and Deb for welcoming me onto their property and making this moment possible!

[meiluu]

Fangs. Spider-Man 2099

Miguel O’Hara/ Reader(AFAB)

*no gendered pronouns/terms used* *Not edited*

cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI—> fangs, creampie, AFAB oral(receiving), P in V sex.

Miguel wanted nothing more than to come home and forget about all that's been going on. The weight of the multiverse rested upon his shoulders, and it took everything in him to not break.

Softly landing on the balcony to his shared apartment, taking a quick glance into the windows- there you are. A sigh leaves him as he gently opens the balcony door. the book you had been reading was tossed aside, jumping up from the couch you are running to Miguel. Your body warms with your shared embrace. "I missed you." your words are muffled as you shove your head further into his chest getting lost in his familiar scent. With your words Miguel is tightening his hold on you, "Me too." lifting your head just enough to rest your chin on his chest, "Do you want to talk about it?" a huff escapes him, "No, I don't want to think about anything besides you and me right now." reaching one of your hands to pull off his mask, "Ok." Softly tossing the material to the side, cupping his cheek you motion him to lean down towards you. A chuckle leaves his beautiful lips, "What is it you want mi amor?"

A little whine leaves you, pouting your lips at his resistance. A cocky smile graces his face, "Nope that face wont work on me." Your defeated sigh fills the air, "I want you." shying away from looking at him. "Hmm, What was that?" oh you were going to punch him, you knew he could hear you. Miguel watched as you eventually moved your face towards his, fire burning within your eyes. "I want you." As your words fall from your lips Miguel is already leaning down, capturing your lips with his. It’s sweet but desperate, his arms lower from being around your shoulders down to your waist. Without even thinking about it Miguel let’s his fangs extend, nipping at your bottom lip. You let out a gasp at the sensation, creating the perfect opportunity for Miguel to push his tongue into your mouth. A deep satisfied groan rumbles from his chest, as he gets lost in the taste of you. Tongues dancing together, but all too soon you both are pulling apart for air. Your eyes immediately lock onto the thin string of saliva that kept you two connected. Just as Miguel has got his breath back he’s moving his kisses down the side of your face going towards your neck. Taking advantage of the thin tank-top, he leaves a plethora of dark to light love marks down your neck. Stopping where your neck and shoulder meet, inhaling your addictive scent he sinks his fangs into you. Making sure to not excrete venom out while biting you. A wobbly moan tumbles from your lips at the sensation.

Retracting his fangs he raises his head, locking onto your gaze. “Can I have you?” His voice is strained with lust, it takes a moment longer to really register his words with the fog your mind has accumulated. “Yes- please.” And with your words Miguel is swiftly picking you up, carrying you to your shared bedroom. On your way there you feel the ticklish feeling of Miguel’s talons cutting expertly through your clothing. Making it to the bedroom and being tossed onto the bed, you realize that Miguel has ruined your clothes. They are now nothing more than big scraps of fabric. A whine of annoyance leaves you at this discovery but you are soon shut up by Miguel, “I’ll buy you new ones.” His voice is gruff but full of promise. Throwing what’s left of your clothes to the floor, you are left completely bare, and Miguel is soon following your lead. Quickly pulling off the top half of his suit, the bottom half not too far behind. Finally he’s left completely bare to you, your eyes shamelessly roam across his exposed skin.

Eyes catching on to the scars that litter his torso, seeing the defined muscle that looks like an artist sculpted them. A rosy blush dusts your cheeks as your eyes lock on to his heavy and aching cock. Fully erect and leaking precum, your toes curl in anticipation. “Cariño, don’t look at me like that.” At his voice your eyes quickly rise to meet his, his voice sent liquid heat down your spine. His words were laced with lust and hold more meaning than just the words alone. “I can’t help it, your so beautiful.” Your words are nothing but sincere, and they have Miguel smiling. “Te amo.” His body is shadowing yours, hands on each side of your head. Lips descending upon your body, little nips from his fangs accompany each burning kiss. Tongue swirling around each perky nipple. With a measured pace Miguel finally reaches where you need him most, making sure to be gentle Miguel latches both hands to the bottom of your thighs lifting you up towards his mouth.

In one quick movement his tongue is lapping up your cunt, relishing in the taste that is undeniably you. Swirling from bottom to top, plunging his tongue inside massaging the inner walls of your cunt. Then he’s retracting, heading towards your clit. Fingers filling the space his tongue has left, tongue dancing around your clit. Miguel has brought heaven to you in this moment, your mind was wrapped in a lustful haze of pure pleasure. Your hands were gripping tight upon his hair, the only thing that was keeping you grounded. Your moans where music to Miguel’s ears, he was taking special care to not pierce you with his talons but every lap of his tongue made it that much more difficult. And to add onto the strain to not hurt you with his talons, he was having an extremely difficult time not ripping himself away from your cunt so that he could properly fuck you into the bed. So for now he was distracting his leaking cock by it rutting into comforter. But fortunately he wouldn’t have to wait long, because before he knew it he could feel you grip tighten and your moans rising in frequency, you were close to cumming. “Miguel- more, please.” Rushed and needy are your words, but you never needed to worry Miguel would follow your every request or demand until the end of time.

The feeling of your walls rhythmically tightening around his fingers with a vice like grip has him groaning into your clit. As he slows his movements with your waning orgasm his moving his body up the bed, lining his cock up with your glistening cunt. Sinking into has Miguel’s mind short-circuiting, no matter how many times you both did this dance he would never get tired of it. Arranging your legs to rest wrapped around his strong waist. Hips grinding into you, making sure to go to the hilt with every deep thrust. Pushing his talons into the comforter, most likely ruining yet another piece of fabric. Your hands latch onto his wide shoulders, forehands nearly touching as you both share the air around you. Shared sounds of pleasure surround you both, picking up the pace. Harder, faster thrusts has you digging your nails into him, arching your self to get as close as possible. And thankfully Miguel is on the same wavelength, both hands are quick to wrap around your torso. Pulling flush against his chest, you can now feel his rapid heartbeat along with every groan and moan he lets out. “Miguel—I’m close.” A slurred expletive in Spanish is all you get in return. Miguel rises up to his knees, you are clinging onto him- arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He’s pulling you down to meet his every harsh thrust. Head thrown back, eyes rolling back as the head of his cock kisses your cervix sending pure pleasure throughout your body. The brush of his fangs against your neck has you shivering in response. Each thrust within you has you spiraling closer to the edge of release. Miguel is soon moving one of his hands closer to your clit, rubbing tight furious circles around it. And with those quick movements your cumming around his cock, squeezing every inch of him, trying to get him to cum with you and to stay connected with you. Another harsh Spanish expletive is heard along with a moan as he pulls you firmly against him, every twitch of his release is felt within you.

Sweet kisses are being placed along your neck along with familiar spanish endearments, “so good…I love you so much.” Miguel’s voice is muffled by your skin. With gentle movements Miguel is slow to leave your cunt, with sweet fulfillment he watches as his cum slowly dribbles out of you. Keeping his tight embrace around you he is unhurriedly heading towards the bathroom, using his organic webs to turn on the water- filling the tub. As he waits for the tub to fill he busies himself with relaxing within your embrace, finally becoming free from the stress he has accumulated.

With the tub finally full, a smirk is making its way upon his face. You had begun to grind against his cock bringing it to attention, Miguel couldn’t help but let out a huff- you were insatiable and he couldn’t love you more for it.

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she decided to join the Bloodrite

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: mention of violence, val's dad being an asshole again

summary: Valeria realizes that the only person she has to prove her worth to is herself.

A/N: we're finally at the last imagine! (you can find the collection of them here) this is one of the first ones I wrote and I've been dying to post it lol. I had originally planned for this series to end here but then I decided to write a short story that focuses/provides closure on Az's and Val's mating bond.

**

As Valeria stood on the balcony, the ethereal glow of Starfall painted the night sky in hues of pale green. The annual migration of spirits, akin to shooting stars, danced across the heavens, casting a luminescent trail that left the world below aglow.

For Valeria, however, the beauty of Starfall was a double-edged sword. She could hear the whispers of the spirits as they streaked across the night sky, their collective voices were a symphony that echoed in her mind, overwhelming and disconcerting. It’s been this way since she was a child and she never fully understood why she was the only one able to hear them.

The first Starfall she could remember was when she was three. Every year, the High Lord would throw a ball at the House of Wind as it was the best place to view the falling spirits. Her mother had brought her to the balcony she currently stood at, holding her in her arms. There was a silence as the guests waited for the first star to fall, hushed whispers of awe when it finally did. Valeria remembered the beauty of it all but she more so when one star became two until they multiplied and then she heard them. The spirits. She had let out a cry, her small hands covering her ears as the voices became too overwhelming. Her mother had brought her inside and a worried Rhysand had walked over to them. Valeria also remembered the look of disdain and disappointment on her father’s face–the first of many to come.

Shadows whirled around her, bringing her back to the present and weaving through her senses. The whispering voices, like distant echoes, grew faint, muffled by the protective shroud of Azriel’s shadows. Valeria’s eyes met his, gratitude and relief reflected in the pale moonlight.

“Should we head inside?” Azriel offered, extending his arm out to her. “Before Mor and Cas drink all the wine.”

Valeria nodded, hooking her arm through his. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body and instinctively, she leaned in closer to him, finding his scent comforting. “You smell good,” she murmured to him as she inhaled.

Azriel chuckled in response, savoring their close proximity. No one batted an eye toward them as they made their way inside. Azriel was known as the Night Court’s spymaster and his duty was to ensure the safety of his court. It was not uncommon to see him around the High Lord and his family, especially Rhysand and Valeria.

“My little warrior!” Cassian called out to her sweetly, words slightly slurred, as he jumped from his seat and pulled Valeria from Azriel, crushing to her chest. He pulled away with a grin, nodding at Azriel casually.  “And Az.”

“I can feel the love.” Azriel dryly commented.

“Come here, Val.” Mor said, patting the empty spot on the couch.

“How many glasses of wine have you had?” Valeria mused as she sat down, gaze flickering between Mor and Cassian.

“Yes.” Mor grinned at her as she poured a glass for Valeria and then another for Azriel.

Save some for me.

Has anyone told you it’s rude to enter one’s mind without permission? Valeria replied to her brother’s voice, sending him a vulgar gesture through her mind. She could hear his chuckle fade into the distance.

Knock knock. Her brother’s talons were playfully tapping at her mind’s shields again. With a roll of her eyes, she allowed them in, asking him what he wanted. He decided to show her instead. Through his eyes, she saw the lords and her father standing before him. They were all discussing the growing tensions among the humans and fae and the battles of rebellion that have risen. Keir was speaking, boasting about his Darkbringers and how they could put an end to the war. She could feel Rhysand’s boredom as Keir kept talking.

Come save me.

Sorry brother but I find this couch to be rather comfy, Valeria replied, her tone teasing. She grinned as Rhysand sent her a vulgar gesture of his own through his mind.

“--helping with preparations for the upcoming bloodrite.”

Valeria brought her wine glass to her lips as she returned her attention to her friends. She caught her brother’s glare from across the room but ignored it.

“Can you believe it’s been three years since you went?” Mor asked them. “And look at you Carynthians now. A general, a spymaster and a future High Lord.”

Valeria’s fond smile mirrored Mor’s and she turned, catching the way both Cassian’s and Azriel’s cheeks tinted at the praise.

“Do you think they’re ready?” Valeria found herself asking, referring to the warriors Cassian had helped train this year.

“I wasn’t ready when I was in their shoes.” Cassian said after a moment of thought. “I don’t think you’ll ever feel ready for something like that. But I was brave and that’s the best thing one can be.”

Valeria hummed in response, cradling her wine glass in her hands. Intrigued by the upcoming Bloodrite, she found herself firing more questions at Cassian while Mor and Azriel fell into a conversation of their own. They were questions she didn’t dare to ask Rhysand or Azriel, knowing they wouldn’t be blatantly honest about it for her sake. Without a second thought, Cassian answered each one, much like he did when she had asked about Tanwyn and the Valkyries.  He failed to notice the gleam in her eyes as she took in every detail of information. 

**

Valeria paced back and forth, attempting to stir up the courage that had led her to the heavy set of double doors. She made up her mind weeks ago–told herself she could do this. But as she stopped her pacing and faced the doors to the High Lord’s throne room, her hands broke out into a cold sweat. She hated herself for it, for the instant fear that brewed in her when it came to him. Her father. Since that night in Windhaven, he had chosen to go back to ignoring her presence completely, as if she didn’t exist at all.

I am the storm. She repeated to herself. 

Val, now is not a good time. 

Now is the only time. She replied, cursing herself for being so nervous and anxious that she had absentmindedly let her mental guards down. 

Before Rhysand could reply, she pulled the doors open and strolled in. Her eyes darted around–widening for a fraction before she donned a composed mask.

I told you so.

She ignored her brother’s voice–this time cursing him directly– and did her best to ignore the presence of the others in the room. Cassian and Azriel looked toward her, the latter standing to attention. Meanwhile Keir looked at her with annoyance. There was another lord that she recognized as one of the High Lord’s advisors but she didn’t recognize the older Illyrian male standing next to Cassian. She could only assume he was also a general.

Her father scowled, his lips curving into a sneer. “What do you want, child?”

She tried her best not to flinch at the insult.

“I want to join the fight.”

Laughter erupted from the High Lord, followed by Keir’s. “You want to fight?”

“I’ve trained with the Valkyries in the past and–”

“Remind me how that ended for you.” Her father sharply interrupted.

The reminder of that night triggered a subtle twitch in one of the muscles on the right side of her back–the very spot where her injured wing, glamored away for the night, would attach. Rhysand’s body tensed. She felt Azriel shift closer, a muscle tightening in his jaw while his shadows loomed nearby, alert and ready. Even Cassian’s expression hardened, mouth set into a hard line.

“It was hardly a fair match, Father.” Rhysand spoke as he came to stand in between his sister and father. “Val has the–”

“And you think war is won by fair matches?” His father reprimanded. “I thought I’ve taught you better than that.”

Anger flooded through her veins. “I’m not going to stay sheltered in this palace while our people go to war for us. I want to stand with them, not behind them. I want to bring honor to our court.”

“Clearly, you do not know your place. You’d know that the only way you can bring honor to this court is by marrying–”

“I refuse to be treated as a bargaining tool as if I am an object!” Valeria snapped, shocked by the intensity of her own voice. Though quieter when she spoke next, her voice retained the same powerful understone as she added: “I would rather die fighting to serve my court than offer my hand to a stranger.”

She felt the sting on her cheek almost immediately, her feet stumbling backwards at the impact. A low growl erupted from behind her as strong hands caught her before she could stumble further. Shadows crept out from his grip and wrapped themselves around her as if to protect her from further harm.

Rhysand stilled, his hands clenching at his sides. His calm and collected demeanor fell, no longer being able to hide the glare toward his father. He moved to stand in front of Valeria, offering his body as a shield, in case their father chose to strike again.

“You stupid foolish girl.” The High Lord chuckled with fury in his eyes, his voice rising with every word. “Sons get sent to war. Daughters get married. Rhysand is my heir. He was born to serve and protect. You were born to obey and submit.”

“Count your stars lucky that these three–foolish as they were– saved you that night.” The High Lord continued. “They will not be able to save you next time so I suggest you leave before I decide to clip your wings myself and strip this fighting nonsense off of you.”

Valeria felt her anger morph into her power. She could feel the light surging through her, running down her arms and into her finger tips. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off of her father’s face. A small part of her wanted to light him up, the way she did those Illyrian men that night. If only he knew…

She felt a hand grasp hers, darkness wrapping itself around his fingertips and dimming her light. Don’t explode. Not here, Rhysand spoke in her mind.

“There will be no next time.” Rhysand said, his voice carrying an almost threatening undertone. He would not allow her father to inflict any more harm on his sister. “If you allow me, I’ll escort Valeria to her chambers. I believe some rest will settle her mind.”

The High Lord nodded his head in dismissal and Rhysand wasted no time in escorting her out of his office. Rhysand released his grip on Valeria's hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead, allowing his darkness to wrap around her flames alight. Neither of them spoke as they made the long trek to her chambers and neither of them paid attention to the tendril of a shadow that followed along with them.

It wasn’t until they were in Valeria’s chambers that she let her shoulders slump, tears brimming her violet eyes but she did not allow them to fall.

“What were you thinking?”

Valeria shot him an incredulous look as if he hadn’t been in her mind the entire time. He knew exactly what she was thinking and why. Rhysand sighed deeply and sat at the edge of her bed, patting the spot beside him. Valeria reluctantly listened and watched in silence as he summoned a small bowl of warm water and a cloth. “You’re bleeding,” he softly said.

Her hand shot up to her cheek, wincing at the sting, pulling her hand away to see that she was, in fact, bleeding. One of her father’s rings must’ve cut her when he slapped her. It was the first time he had ever laid hands on her.

Valeria knew the answer to the question but she needed to hear it aloud. “Is my sole purpose in life to obey and submit to others?”

“Of course not.” Rhysand immediately answered as he finished cleaning the dried up blood from her face. He gently cupped her unharmed cheek. “You're destined for a greater purpose. Fuck what father says.”

A subtle curve graced Valeria’s lips in response to Rhysand’s insult, only to fade back into a persistent frown. She pulled away from his grasp. “What will it take to prove to him that I am worthy of so much more than he has planned for me?”

“I failed him at birth and I’ve dedicated my life to prove my worth to him. I may have not been born a son but why does that anger him so much? He already has you, his heir. I understand the politics of this war. I can fight. I want to fight.”

“I know you can.” Rhysand said, acknowledging her skills and capabilities. Had it not been for her father putting an end to her training with the Valkyries, he was sure she would’ve been initiated as a Valkyrie herself. “But don’t dedicate your life to proving yourself to others. The only person you need to prove your worth to is yourself.”

Silence fell as Rhysand’s words sunk in. He was right. Her trying to prove her worth to others would only weigh her down. Noticing the distant gaze on his sister, his powers reached for her mind, easily granting him access to her inner turmoil. It only lasted a couple of seconds as Valeria’s mental shields rose and he blinked back to find that she was now glaring at him. 

“Can you not?”

Rhysand raised his hands up. “It’s not my fault you let your shields down for a moment.” 

Have I taught you nothing?

Valeria let out a groan. “Go away now. I’m tired.”

“That’s no way to treat your loving brother.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She said as she stood up, motioning for him to follow her and go out her door.  

Rhysand rolled his eyes at her antics but complied. She slammed the door shut, pressing herself against it. “Love you. Good night!” 

Love you too.

Valeria huffed at the sound of her brother’s laughter in her head. She closed her eyes and focused, pushing his claws out of her head. He scraped against her rising shields in a teasing manner only for her to shoot him with light and far away from the gates of her mind that she felt him wince.

It was when she was sure that Rhysand could no longer get into her head that she walked out to her balcony. She stared up at the crescent moon, finding comfort in its light and falling deep in thought again. 

It unsettled her to know that her brother, Azriel and Cassian were being sent to war. Even Mor was preparing for it as she was no longer under her father’s rule but Rhysand’s. He had taken full responsibility over her when she had moved in with them. As for Valeria, she was expected to just sit back and wait for war updates with her mother. She could not bear the thought of doing nothing while her loved ones laid their lives down for the Night Court. Especially not when she had dedicated the past five years of her life into training to defend herself, to fight.

Rhysand was right. She knew what she was capable of. She had not been saved that night in Windhaven. She had fought against five skilled Illyrian warriors by herself and she was willing to die fighting. 

Valeria was aware that fighting in a war was different. It required not only courage and strength but strategy and resolve. And what better way to prove to herself that she was ready–that she was worthy–than by joining the upcoming Blood Rite?

It was like Cassian had said, she would never feel ready for a strenuous trial like the Blood Rite but she was brave to face it and that’s the best thing one can be.

**

tag list:  @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

A/N: and that's a wrap on Val's early life (': the storyline I have planned will pick up right after the blood rite and you'll get a glimpse into her experience. I debated a lot on whether Val should join the blood rite or not. I decided to allow her because all she wants is to be treated with the same love and respect like her brother minus the heir part and while she gave up on what others may think of her, this is something she needed to do for herself. and also a part of her is doing this to honor her friend, Mallory Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed these imagines as much as I enjoyed writing them <3 I will be taking a short break to focus on my upcoming exam but if you have any questions over this series or simply just wanna talk, feel free to send me an ask! (:

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 1: Yandere!Hawks

Quirk Use Laws? Pretty much forbid anyone NOT a Hero from Flying. Even if they have wings. Even if they were born with them.

Society isn't fair. Never has been.

It doesn't MATTER if you have wings fully capable of carrying you through the skies. Of that freedom so few could only dare dream off. You didn't offer yourself up on the alter of Heroics or the meat grinder of Villiany. Stay on the fucking ground.

You haven't flown since childhood.

Not even so much as gliding. Have gotten in TROUBLE time and again for daring to fully extend them, just to stretch. Long learned to ignore the screaming, begging, jibbering mess of instincts that just... just BEGS you. Pleads with you. To just for a MOMENT...

No one would ever have to KNOW!

.......yeah. Yeah sounds like a lie to you, too. But you can't blame um. It. That part of you. You weren't built for this.

Literally.

Your wings are fucking massive. You've lost count of the times you've clipped door frames. Wall corners. Furniture. They're not DAINTY. Not pretty little short term flight wings, built for flitting about and bright colors. They are TANKY. Meant to carry you and carry you and CARRY YOU. Hold weights most couldn't lift.

You got a LOT of pressure to be a hero as a kid.

Now you most just get a lot of pressure to HAVE kids. Lots of um. Gotta pass on the quirk! Be a good little broodmare! Since, you know, YOU failed to give us what we wanted. It's messed up.

And it's not happening.

Not in a society like THIS. Honestly, you'd get your tubes tied if you COULD FIND A DOCTOR TO DO IT. But again! Quirk. Broodmare. Pop out winged babies. Like HELL you will. Not when they'll never get to fly. Not when it's a life of forced combat for the state or being chained to the ground.

You? You can bear it. You're strong enough. You've HAD to be. But you're not gonna let them do that to any hypothetical kid of yours. You'd sooner fucking die.

Speaking off? Some fuckers never learn. Another "life was mean n unfair so I'm gonna take that out on everyone weaker then me, instead of aiming for the people actually responsible, cause I'm a COWARD" mother fucker. And LOOK! How original! He has bom-...

Wait, FUCK-!!!

The bastard HAD bombs. You, along with most of the idiot "hero chaser~♡!" Crowd you were trying to get PASSED, got thrown back. At least it didn't hit directly. Those up front would have died. Which? From the sounds of panic? Is finally starting to OCCUR to those idiots.

You DON'T SAY? Really. Getting near open combat? Dangerous? Fucking Shocking!

Still, you pull yourself up off your back (fucking OW, you don't sleep on your back for a REASON). Fling your hand forward to let your talons slam onto the concrete (not like it can get any MORE fucked up, who's gonna notice a few holes?) then lever yourself up and forward.

You let the, admittedly, incredible strength of your jacked upper body, do more the just roll you upright. You GRIP. Push off. Muscles rolling under your intentionally baggy clothes as you move, like the apex predator you both are and pretend not to be.

Cause there's kids. There's ALWAYS fuckin kids at these things. They want to see the Heros(~☆™). Want to BE them. Have no goddamned idea how dangerous what they're doing IS because everyone around them treats as safe, normal.

But it's NOT.

And now those kids are hurt and on the ground.

They are scared, confused, and don't know what to do. The adults around them more concerned with saving themselves then protecting the most vulnerable amongst them. You shove passed. It's EASY.

With your wings? With the muscles that came WITH them? The size you got from either your Quirk or just dear ol dad? You are a TANK. If you say move. They MOVE.

You get to the kids. Raptor eyes and sensitivity to blood, perfect for hunting, picking out prey. Even BETTER for picking out boo-boos. That's right everybody, big bird lady, here with band-aids and the reassuring Adult Voice Of Command In A Scary Situation. We're all okay. Everybody together now.

You assess the damage. Not great, could be worse. At least they aren't preschoolers. You nearly got ARRESTED that time for almost punching a cop. The one with the badly twisted ankle can't stand. You haul him up under an arm. You'd toss him over a shoulder, but he'd be exposed.

Time to- The children scream in terror. Your head snaps around, towards the fight. What the HELL have they been DOING?! How has it gotten-!? One of the Villians attacks is headed directly at you and the kids.

FUCK Vigilante Laws. You're not dying today. Neither are these kids!

Your wings snap out to their full size.

Curving like a deep, earth toned, fortress of feathers around you, as you raise them to shield yourself. You activate Strong Bird. (Your dad had Strong Man, your mom had Pretty Bird. Yeah, they thought they were clever when they had a really REALLY powerful avian Quirked kid. Gee! What to name THAT quirk?)

Your wings, already powerful, become nigh unbreakable in their strength. You can't hold it long. But you don't NEED too. Just to tank a hit... that never comes.

You don't know what's happening and you don't CARE. Amateur hour out there nearly got these kids killed TWICE. So the wings stay up. C'mon fledgling, everybody back up, nice 'n slow. Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart. JUST like ducklings.

Of course, while the kids get EMTs? (As they should) You get the delightful threat chorus of the City's Finest. Serve and Protect, everybody! You'd grin and bear it... but you kinda have fangs. Lil baby ones. But APPARENTLY they count as "threatening a police officer". Quirkist mother fuc-

"Problem, officer?"

Too close! Hand on shoulder! AAAH, FUCK! You jump. Wing slaming out in reflex, trying to dislodge the "suprise attack". You didn't hear his come up behind you! SILENT MOTHER FUC-!!! You whip around to the sound of snickering.

Delighted eyes more suited to a corvid then the raptor they're attached too, mock back at you. The Avian/Winged Quirks of Japan Golden Boy. Mr. Model himself. Fuckin Hawks, in all his fuckboi glory.

".....I'm not apologizing. You snuck up on me." You growl, FULLY ignoring the offended noise the officer next to makes.

You... do NOT like the corvid grin, Hawks is giving you. He seems fully aware of it.

The longer you both lock eyes... the more your feathers puff up. Shoulders slowly rising to damn near your ears. S...Stop That! I'm BIGGER THEN YOU! I could take you! You... you WANNA GO, you flighty lil shit!?

He reachs forward. Telegraphing his moves. And...?

Tugs at a flight feather.

YOU PUNCH HIM.

The Judge is very understanding. Your lawyer, paid for by Hawks, somehow gets you community service at his agency. (You wish you punched him harder. But those are INSIDE thoughts.) It? Wouldn't be so bad... if he wasn't such a little corvid CREEP.

Always trying to startle you. Endless wing tugging. Staring contests. Stealing your lunch. Stealing BACK your lunch once you've stolen it from HIM. Moving your SHIT. It's like he's TRYING to set off Every Single Instinct You HAVE.

You're gonna kill him.

This is your Supervillian origin story. Mr. "Ooooh~ isn't it a SHAME you can't fly? I can fly!" LORDING his FUCKING LICENSE over you like a [censored in untranslatable Raptor swearing]!!!

If you find! ONE MORE! Of his FUCKING FEATHERS!!! In your shit?! You are gonna running tackling him out the nearest WALL. And frankly? You don't CARE what magazine he's in now! Stop SHOWING YOU! Stop filling your desk! Stop SITTING on your desk! Yeah, yeah, world's greatest hunter. You caught a purse thief today. Woooo. Good for you.

We're it not for the many, MANY witnesses? These Talons would...

"Love to see ya TRY~" the asshole croons, leaning forward, into your space. "You're fast. But I'm FASTER! But hey, maybe ya manage it! Go ahead. Big strong grip, you might even catch me~ DO you WANT to catch me, my lil hunter?"

Condescending FUCKER. What, because he's a hero, you're no threat AT ALL?

You slam your hands down on your desk, either side of him, to pull yourself to your feet. To TOWER above him like a wrathful avian god. You're so furious... you don't notice the way his eyes dilate. The shudder that goes through him.

The way his calculating golden eyes follow you as you storm away, a titan of feathers and wrath, from behind his ever fixed PR mask.

He steals another pen.

He knows it's going to aggravate you. As is the doodling on you paperwork. The swiping of several random pages. The moving your paperweight. Wing tugging. Pay attention to me. Mischief and danger. It's just a passing whim, he tells himself. He'll get bored, he lies. We have nothing in common!

(Cages come in so many shapes. Is your's as unbearable as mine?)

[thesurrendertender]

Miguel O’Hara is such an interesting character in across the spiderverse. It’s so obvious that he had personal problems with Miles and Miles alone: he recruited Pavitr that only had six months of experience, he thinks that Lego Spider man is one of his best, in one scene there’s Doppelgänger, a literal demon clone in a spider man suit, and he’s a part of the spider society because Miguel had no problems recruiting him. But he specifically avoided recruiting Miles, the one Spider Man who saved the multi verse and already had some extended experience.

Miguel and Miles are probably the only Spider Men with the similar experience and the ones with abnormal backstories. They’re both anomalies, except that, while Miles didn’t had a choice and didn’t mean to mess with the canon events, Miguel actively made the choice to be an anomaly.

Miles is the proof that anomalies can co-exist with the multiverse. I think this is what really made Miguel angry, knowing that some anomalies have it worse and some simply don’t. I mean, I would be angry too, if I lost my daughter and everyone in her universe because I was an anomaly, but this kid is an anomaly too yet he has a family, and his universe is still intact. It just wouldn’t make sense, especially when Miguel actively tries so hard to follow the canon after the incident to make sure no more universes can collapse.

In particular I really liked the train/missile scene. Miguel was projecting HARD onto Miles, telling him he’s “the original anomaly” that “if he hadn’t been bitten someone wouldn’t have died” that “he wasn’t supposed to be there” and that “he’s not a real Spider-Man” and ESPECIALLY that “he doesn’t belong”. all things that he experienced, all the things that leaded to the destruction of his universe.

Not to mention that out of all the Spider men Miguel is the odd one: he wasn’t bitten by a spider, he doesn’t have spider senses, he doesn’t have a sense of humour, his dna is 50% spider and he only has fangs and talons, and if I understood correctly those powers aren’t even permanent. Yet, he’s the one leading the Society. He doesn’t belong, he was an anomaly, because of his choice people died and honestly? He’s not even fully Spider-Man. All the things he says to Miles are just a mirror of himself.

He was projecting all his fears onto the only other person who could relate to what he went through, and mind you Miles was told by his mother, Rio, to never let other people tell him that he doesn’t belong just twenty minutes before in the movie. And now he got a thirty-something man slamming him into a train, guilt trip him and trauma dump him.

Also, I noticed how he actually tried to resonate with Miles at first, explaining him why the canon is important, why certain things must happen and why he can’t come back home. And then the moment Miles went “but why I can’t do both?” He got incredibly pissed and sent him an entire army of spider men to stop him.

This also happens when Gwen asks him why he’s so sure that canon events must happen and what if they just…don’t occur. And again, Miguel gets angry because he simply doesn’t accept being wrong, doesn’t accept that his incident was an isolated case and that the canon doesn’t always need to be followed. He doesn’t even give an explanation, he just tells her “oh so you want to see WHAT happens?” Because again, he did see what CAN happen, and it wasn’t good at all.

I hope that in Beyond the Spiderverse Miguel and Miles can reconcile somehow. I don’t expect them to be on good terms, I would just like to see them confront one another. I think that would be cool.

[talonabraxas]

Mabon 2024

Mabon 2024 will occur on Sunday, September 22, at 8:44 AM EDT, aligning with the Autumn Equinox. While this marks the official date, celebrations can vary, with some extending the festivities throughout the weekend to fully embrace the season's themes of balance and gratitude.

Astrological Insights – Mabon

Mabon 2024 promises a lively celestial atmosphere, particularly during the early morning and late afternoon. Key astrological events include a Sun trine Pluto at 2:12 AM and a Venus square Pluto at 5:15 PM. Both planets are in the final degrees of their signs, with Pluto continuing its retrograde motion. This configuration suggests a time of revealing hidden truths and leveraging deep, transformative energies.

The Sun-Pluto trine brings a potent opportunity for constructive change. XIX-The Sun by Talon Abraxas

[heartfullofleeches]

why can’t we have monster sheriff reader and horny ass town mayor and bandits

(Werewolf sheriff? Werewolf sheriff.)

A picture frame crashes to the abyss as you tumble into the nightstand. Those god damn idiots. Robbing someone blind on today of all days. The rage visible in the venom dripping from your teeth only upped their ante. None the wiser to your curse, the little demons damn near fainted when a growl slipped from your throat as you chased them about, catching the bastards in record time so you could return home before it was too late.

Your spine curves against the floorboards as you fall onto your side. You barely made it back before the transformation began. Your fangs assault your gums in trial to force out your human canines; the smell of the blood flowing from the vacant holes sending you into a furor. Course hair sprouts over your entire body, stemming from the deep claw marks on your bicep. The scar flares with a white hot pain in similar burn to when you first received it, the fruit bearer of your blight.

You drag your body across the floor as your limbs extend; fighting to reach the basement before the haze clouding your mind traps your brain in its fog. Vision spotty, the soft moonlight on your back doesn't register until you're facing it fully as you writhe in pain. Your talons rip the wood to shreds as your conciousness slips; heartbeat hammering through your maw. The last thing you hear before everything fades is a door handle rolling across the floor.

-

"You moron! Now they'll know we're here if they're home."

"Sorry! I'm still excited from earlier. Coulda swarn they were tryin to take my head off with that swing."

Shaking off the fuzzy shutter the memory brings, the lockpicker joins the rest of the group in piling into your home. The bandits were worried about you after your public display. While you losing your shit was a welcome surpise, they feared you had a bad week and wanted to cheer you up in the only way they knew how. Stealing things and dumping them off in your shack.

As they place their goods in various directions, a shout comes from the bedroom.

"Hey, guys- come quick!"

Rushing inside your room, the bandits stumble across the scene of a crime that looks like a tornado blew in armed to the teeth in blades. The nightstand was knocked over and blinds torn from the rack. Claw marks splintered the floors, walls, and even the ceiling. The moonlight centered on the bloodstains in the carpet; four teeth embedded in the wool.

The leader kneels and picks up a tooth. "What the hell happened here?"

"Is the sheriff okay?..."

"Look outside, I saw something move!"

A large shadow slinks away from view. Reflecting the natural light, the pin on its tattered clothes could only be one thing. The sheriff's badge.

"What was that?"

"Whatever it was, it has something to do with the sheriff. Follow it."

Fueled by anger and fear, the bandits barrel out the backdoor and after the creature. It's long gone by the time they tumble outside, but footprints and broken leaves lead them directly in its wake. Their adrenaline makes the chase as close to a match as possible for a beast of such calibre; broad shoulders easily the size of at least two of the bandits' torsos.

The pursuit comes to a halt as the group approaches the old farmer's gate. Fool spent a fortune on silver wiring after the lawsuit he lawsuit. As it stands still, the bandits get a good look at the creature. Fur as black as midnight, jaws and dentures that could snap some clean in two, familiar eyes. Looking closely at the beast, it becomes clear that the torn clothes on them aren't from them ripping someone to shreads, but from someone growing to large to wear them. A sheriff hat sits tucked bewteen its ears.

"S...sheriff?

The wolf's ear twitches in recognition. You huff in warning.

All at once things become clear to the group. All at once - that fear they each felt blends with something else. Those claws. That build. You could annihilate whoever you pleased. And that was one of the hottest things imaginable.

"Holy shit."

The human part of your brain wonders if now would be the best time to use the silver bullet tied around your neck as they approach. The weight of nearly a dozen humans jumping on you is about the same as a fly in your hair, but to avoid any casualties you allow them their fun. You have enough control for that, you think- till hands start wondering where they shouldn't.

[frozenjokes]

The Art Of Being Kidnapped [2/2]

prev

Jimmy was afraid of him. Jimmy was afraid of Grian and Grian knew why Jimmy was afraid and that he was most definitely justified in that wariness- Hell, that was a bad couple months for Grian, time that he could only reflect on in splotchy memories, but he never had really reflected, had he? He never wanted to reflect, to really close his eyes and look back and come to terms with the fact that Jim was just a normal guy.

Grian was not a stranger to delusions. More often than he cared to admit did he find himself paralyzed between a victim and a god complex, writhing in the constricting walls of his own mind, too small, too tight, unfit for him, he who deserved better, more, he who deserved to crush the world under his fingertips, rip the wings off angels with nothing more than talons and teeth for the way he’d been created, the way he’d been wronged. Angels. He hated angels. In the literal or metaphorical sense, it didn’t matter, Grian had only known himself to be cast out, falling, falling until his wings caught flame, then smashing into the pavement, something broken and mangled and evil rising up from his corpse.

Grian could see it, see the horror of his disfigured undeath where no one else could. He could see the bones in his arms twist and reform, break apart and grow like malignant tumors, new limbs, wires, trying and failing to recreate the holy being he’d been before. His ribs were exposed to the air and he had way too many of them, he knew this to be true. They were compensating, compensating for the gaping hole in his stomach, growing and splintering like tree branches to keep what organs he had left inside, though the rest; his intestines and things, they did not leave him, only dragged behind as he walked, attached but just barely, agonizing, but never able to fully split. The fall had destroyed his lungs, but his nerves would not simply let him suffocate, they instead grew, stitching themselves through the lining and forcing a seal so that Grian might breathe, but not without struggle, the labor of every inhale splitting holes in the seams, simultaneously painful and never enough.

There were angels everywhere, everywhere, and they could see it too. They could see exactly what they’d done to him, the consequences of their sacrifice staring right back at them, black eyes, dark and beady. They didn’t know what to do with him. Most avoided him, paid him no mind, or simply pretended he wasn’t there, glancing only from the corner of their eyes at the animal that lumbered down the city streets, blood and pus trailing in its wake. Some angels were cruel, mocking and teasing as they talked amongst themselves, staring with all their Eyes so that Grian knew exactly who they were speaking of. But the worst. The worst.

Some angels were kind. When they looked at Grian, saw what they had done, they were moved by guilt into a pity and compassion they never would have extended if Grian had just died like he was supposed to. They wouldn’t have given his exile a second thought. But here they were, in front of him, forced to reckon with the monster they’d created.

Jimmy was an angel. An angel who saw Grian, all of Grian, but pretended he could not. An angel that tried to hide, to gain his trust and fix him, to mend the ways in which Grian had been so wronged as if his hands hadn’t been the ones that bound Grian’s wings, laughing as he screamed and struggled and sobbed until he fell.

Grian recognized those eyes. He saw them in his sleep. He would not give them the satisfaction of forgiveness.

But angels, Grian’s angels at least, they weren’t real. Logically, he knew this to be true, though some nights as he laid in bed he could still see his exposed and splintered rib cage, he could still feel his intestines splayed out on either side of his stomach. (He could still sense their eyes, though they could not see him under the covers where he often took shelter.)

Angels weren’t real. Jimmy was just a guy. And Grian was just a dog. A beast that snarled at its own shadow, snapped at the dark, and bit every hand that dared get too close. Something reactive. Something quick to distrust, and even quicker to fear.

Grian couldn’t quote a single thing he’d said to Jimmy. He could hardly remember a concrete thing he’d done that semester, not the places he visited or the classes he took. Maybe part of the reason was time. He was eighteen then. Nearly fifteen years ago. And nearly fifteen years later, here he was, trailing behind his college roommate whose feathers were not raised due to the cold, but due to fear. Wariness. Distrust. Jimmy was still afraid of him, from a time Grian barely remembered.

A time when Grian was a monster, and there were no angels. Just people, people who saw glimpses of his true form out of the corner of their eye, who felt compassion, who extended their hands only to be mauled and maimed by a dog who didn’t know when or how to let go.

Grian couldn’t fix it. Even if Grian had the grace to approach something so sensitive, he would never be able to fix it. So instead, he’d do all he knew how. He’d rescue an innocent civilian from this hellscape of a maze, he’d kick the ass of the person behind the dungeon so utterly that they’d wish their parents had never known love, then he’d pay for a very nice taxi and/or hotel if the civilian lived far from home, and never see him again.

He’d show Jimmy a kindness. He’d show Jimmy he’d changed. A monster still, always a monster, but one who didn’t want to bite anymore. Who wanted to love more freely than it scorned.

Jimmy navigated the tunnels confidently, stepping certainly on hazardous ground and keeping his head in encounters with ravagers, spotting them long before Grian even heard them and quietly guiding the both of them in a different direction. The only times Grian saw Jimmy’s wings so much as twitch was when Scar yelled or screamed, words distorted as they echoed across the endless tunnels. But even then, Jimmy looked more confused than anything, mumbling words Grian couldn’t quite catch, but along the lines of ‘he’s still in the game?’

“HotGuy’s pretty resourceful,” Grian tried, not knowing if he wanted to talk or to desperately avoid it, “Loud, but he’ll scream like that regardless if you’ve touched him or not. Bit of a big baby, but-“ Grian cut himself off when Jimmy turned, eyes narrowed, “like- not- He’s just a tad dramatic, probably likes the sound of his voice echoing all over the place. Not- not in a bad way! In a literal- I mean it literally, I literally think he’d find the echoes entertaining. Right? I think he’s fine.”

Jimmy watched him for a long moment before turning away, dismissive. “I’ll take your word for it.” But maybe Jimmy realized how much damage the short silence afterward was doing to Grian’s psyche, because he added, “Though given we’ve only seen one ravager in the past fifteen minutes and no HotGuy, I don’t think he’s screaming ‘just for fun.’ Who knows where he’s gone. Having a bit of trouble telling which direction his voice is coming from.”

Grian got the sense he had said the wrong thing. Hm. Maybe he should just stop talking. But it was odd, wasn’t it. Scar could hardly walk on the ice, much less run for his life from angry ravagers who had zero problems navigating at all. How was he still in the game? Grian wondered if he’d found a way to climb the walls, but those were all ice and slick rock as well, not to mention the ceilings probably weren’t high enough to get him out of reach from a ravager. Plus, Scar was moving, he had to be. They would have found him otherwise.

Jimmy must have come to a similar conclusion, or at least had an idea, because after walking past the same hallway fifty times and passing it up due to the grunts and groans of ravagers down the way, Jimmy took a sharp turn directly down it, silent to Grian’s own terror.

But Jimmy wasn’t careless, walking slow and deliberately. Grian watched intently from behind, carefully copying the way Jimmy balanced on his toes, claws dug more firmly into the ice in the case he needed to turn quickly on a heel. He was confident, practical. If he really had spent all this time in the dungeon, Grian would do well to copy his stance.

Jimmy turned around at some point down the hall, looking Grian up and down in a way that made his feathers rise underneath his wing cover, embarrassment coloring the skin under his mask. So maybe Grian had copied Jimmy’s poise as well, but that wasn’t his fault, Jimmy just looked like he knew what he was doing! Mercifully, Jimmy continued on when Grian aggressively avoided eye contact.

As they continued down the way, Scar’s voice grew louder, though, not nearly as distressed as it sounded from far away. Honestly, he sounded more annoyed than anything.

“Stupid compass! Hey! Give that back! Ooh you oaf!” Hints of affection colored his voice until a larger impact shook the walls of the tunnel, Scar yelping in earnest. “Off! Off! Goodness, alright. I’m gonna need a minute. No one’s allowed to grab me, alright? No! Grabbing! It’s rude.” There was a moment of silence before a proper “NOOOOOOOO!” ripped itself out of Scar’s throat, but Grian heard the laugh behind it, unable to stop his own silent laugh from lifting his shoulders.

“Of course,” he mumbled, Jimmy turning to ask a question before Scar cut him off with another bout of yelling.

“MY COMPASS MY COMPASS MY COMPASS- YOU!”

“I-“ Jimmy stuttered for a moment, caught in the web of his own confusion, “I don’t.. understand.”

“I think someone’s made a couple new friends.”

“That- that is not possible.”

Grian snorted, losing the caution altogether and skipping ahead, excitement and curiosity taking its hold.

Jimmy clearly disagreed, yelping a short “-CuteGuy-“ as he stumbled to keep up, but Grian ignored him handily, eager to see what all the fuss was about.

Scar, outfitted in a newly cracked visor and bumbling around covered in blood, was not a new sight for Grian, far from it really, especially since most of his cuts were clearly shallow, scrapes from fumbling across the ice while the blood smeared over his face was leaking from his nose as was typical for a Scar injury. What was alarming was the three ravagers around the corner, surrounding Scar as he leapt to catch his compass as it slid across the ice. The ravagers seemed interested in his compass as well, bumping into each other and Scar as they nipped to retrieve it, only to stop once Scar’s fingers wrapped around it. But Scar didn’t seem intent on keeping his compass, sliding it across the ice once more, the four of them continuing to chase it. This time, a ravager stepped on Scar’s upper back by accident, causing him to wheeze and collapse where he laid on top of the compass, silent until the three ravagers began to sniff his unmoving body. One scooped him up by the leg, compass and all, and Scar screeched, struggling with a renewed vigor until he was dropped, falling immediately back on his ass, catching his breath, then continuing to slide his compass across the floor. Grian hardly noticed when Jimmy caught up, but when Grian finally looked up to see the other avian, his head was poked out behind the corner in the exact way Grian’s was, mouth gaping. Clearly they were thinking the exact same thing!

“HotGuy!” Grian stepped out from behind the corner, and Jimmy squeaked a small ‘Grian!’ and while it was no surprise that Jimmy knew exactly who he was, the other still slapped his hand across his mouth, and Grian continued with a roll of his eyes. “What in the world are you doing playing fetch with ravagers? What is wrong with you!”

“CuteGuy!” Scar sounded delighted, then less so when a ravager snatched up his compass before he could, getting to his knees and to Grian’s horror, attempting to pry the beast’s mouth back open. “Hey! Hey! That’s mine, you’d better drop it, mister! Drop it!” The ravager did not drop it, but was looking a little more distressed at its predicament. The other ravagers still seemed to want the compass as well, the three of them grunting as they nudged each other, all trying to get it at once. Scar let loose a triumphant yell when the item slipped from the lips of the original, unperturbed that his compass was now covered in slime.

“I found my artifact!” Scar continued as if that hadn’t happened, giving an eager ravager a soft punch in the nose when it started to nudge too close, “Ya big brute. But I found it! The spot I mean! The compass is twisting all sorts of places. I just don’t know where I’m supposed to put it. But I’m getting there! You just watch, any minute now..”

Grian could only gape as Scar slid his compass forward once more, pouncing before the waiting ravager could snatch it up. “What are you doing?”

Scar, impossibly undisturbed by his current predicament, looked up. “Isn’t it obvious? Come on, CuteGuy,” Scar smirked, and for a moment Grian was convinced this entire dungeon was a set up just to fuck with him specifically.

“It is not obvious!” Grian almost laughed, and Scar being Scar, caught the slightest whiff of encouragement and ran head first into the game.

“Weeelllll, if you need to be told, I’m looking for my artifact spot! It’s got to be here somewhere, I’m just covering more ground!” and then, under his breath, “You silly goose.”

Grian snorted, “I am NOT a silly goose.”

“You so are.”

“I am NOT, and you are going about this like an imbecile! Why the fuck are you sliding it across the floor!? Isn’t there an indent to put your compass in? Like the entrance had? How do you even know it’s on the floor? What’s with the ravagers?” Jimmy said something behind him, but Grian didn’t hear it over Scar’s bellowing voice.

“Excuse you, I never said I was taking suggestions from silly gooses! Gosh, CuteGuy, you’re being such a goose right now.”

“Okay, sure, fine, now give me that compass so I can get this done,” Grian stalked forward, but stopped in his tracks when all three ravagers growled, jumping back a step directly into Jimmy’s chest, the other avian’s presence pulling a startled yelp from his throat. When had Jimmy gotten so close?

Scar didn’t seem to notice, not looking up as he pawed at the ground with his compass, “No wonder no one wants to kiss you, goodness, with a tongue like that? Have you seen pictures, CuteGuy? That’s some scary stuff!”

“What- what? What are you talking about.”

“Geese. They’ve got teeth tongues.”

“They- wait, seriously?

“Yeah! All along the sides! It’s spooky stuff!

“That’s sick. I want that.”

Scar rolled his eyes. “Of course you would. Silly goose.”

“I’M NOT SILLY.” Grian paused, letting his ruffled feathers rest, “However, I am willing to compromise on the goose thing.”

“HotGuy doesn’t do compromises, Goose,” Scar winked, “Silly goose.”

“Your merch is ugly.”

“WHOA!” Scar threw up his hands, “Hey now, those aren’t nice words.”

“Your merch is ugly. All of it. All of it is so distinctly bad sometimes I just have to look at it for long periods of time because it’s so damn ugly and I think who is designing this stuff? Is it HotGuy? Does HotGuy think he has good merch? And I think no, no that can’t be possible, his merch sucks, but you wear it all the time! I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you not wearing your merch. Which is a weird thing to do by the way. Not weird every once and a while, but extremely weird to do on the daily. It makes you look conceited. Which.”

“Wow. Say what you want about me, CuteGuy, but I will not stand for the slander of my merch! My merch is awesome.”

“I doubt it’s comfortable. It’s too cheap to be comfortable.”

“Okay there mister, my merch is VERY comfortable actually!”

“How would you know? You have nothing to compare it to! You don’t wear normal clothes!”

“Maybe I don’t have normal clothes.”

“You- You do, you literally do. You go out to bars and shit in normal clothes all the time. Well. Maybe normal is a stretch, but you make it work.”

“Those are Micah’s clothes.”

Grian inhaled deeply, wondering if this was something he wanted to get into right now. Definitively, no. “You’re rich. You are literally rich. You can buy yourself fucking clothes. Why don’t you do that. Why is Micah the only one allowed to have clothes. Why are you like this.”

“Are those questions you want answers to or..”

“No. I just want to hurt you. Your merch is ugly.”

Scar perked up. “Oh! Well in that case!” Scar crossed his arms, making a little harumph noise that was so perfectly him, Grian couldn’t help but snort, “No it isn’t! Your attitude is ugly.”

“Your face is ugly.” Grian turned up his nose, counting on his fingers as he went, utterly failing to hide his smile, “And you smell. And you’re loud and obnoxious and-“

Grian startled as he felt Jimmy’s claws on his shoulder, pinching the skin beneath his uniform, “Will you just leave him alone!?”

Grian didn’t know what to do, mouth falling open to speak, but no words came out. Clearly Scar didn’t know either, at a similar loss, the tunnel filled so suddenly with the most unbearably uncomfortable silence. Jimmy seemed affected as well, stumbling back and nearly slipping on the ice.

“We’re just playing around,” Scar tried, but this didn’t seem to break any of the tension; in fact, Jimmy only looked more distressed. Scar, never satisfied, fumbled over his words to correct, “I basically called him a slur.” Grian almost snorted, but the heaviness of the air crushed all the joy from his lungs.

“That- That just isn’t true but-“ Jimmy’s voice was more than strangled, face far redder than could be passed off by the cold, “If you don’t care, then..”

“I don’t.” Scar was painfully confused, looking an awful lot at Grian for answers he couldn’t possibly provide, “He doesn’t mean it. Not about my face at least. And given our line of work, he definitely smells and is just as obnoxious as I am, if not more. I bet if you asked Cub, he’d tell you just as much.”

“Cub would not- Absolutely not. You’re not allowed to ask him that.” Grian pointed aggressively at Scar, who only laughed.

“You know what he’d say.”

“I don’t know. I do know, actually, and I don’t need to hear it because I already know.”

Scar turned to Jimmy with a smirk, “You think he doesn’t like to be called ‘silly.’ When Cub tells him he’s just as obnoxious as me, and also that he smells, he won’t get out of bed for a week.”

“That’s not true!” Grian squawked, but still, Jimmy did not look any less mortified. Silence blanketed the tunnel once more. Grian still wasn’t sure what he’d done. What he could do to fix this.

The quiet was abruptly shattered when a hatch on the ceiling was slammed open, the impact sending shards of ice in every direction, “NEVER have I EVER witnessed a shitstorm of a run as MISERABLE as this. What is WRONG with you!” Tango, or at least, a ball of flame vaguely shaped like Tango poked his head(? hard to tell. it was all fire) out of the hole, an accusatory finger pointed Scar’s way. “YOU.”

Scar waved, “Hello!”

“I HATE YOU.”

“We can work on that!”

“GET OUT OF MY DUNGEON.”

“Oh, but I haven’t found my artifact yet! I was working on it before you interrupted- Tango, isn’t it? Mind giving me an insider hint?”

“It’s NOT ON THE FLOOR. Even if it was, sliding your damn compass won’t do anything. The spot is RIGHT IN THE WALL, RIGHT BEHIND YOU, but you should not BE HERE.” Tango whirled on the ravagers, all of which were staring at him blankly, “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?” One of them sat on its haunches, eying Tango expectantly. “NONE OF YOU ARE GETTING TREATS.”

Scar, meanwhile, was unbothered, examining the wall behind him with great interest, “Oh hey! There's a little circle, oh, I get it!” He stuck his compass into the indent, the wall clicking the item into place before the panel flipped around, presenting Scar with his artifact. Scar made a delighted squeal, taking the gold necklace and pendant into his hand with great reverence. “Is this it?”

“That’s it,” Jimmy mumbled.

“Oh!” Scar turned around, not noticing or caring as Tango continued to reprimand his ravagers. From his knees, Scar slowly got to his feet, shuffling with great care toward where Jimmy stood stiff. “You should have this. I have a feeling you’ll probably be the one getting us out of here, so it makes sense you should be the one to carry it. Well..” Scar glanced back at Tango, throwing both Grian and Jimmy a wink.

“Uh.. thanks..” Jimmy stepped back, far more keen to stare at the artifact than at Scar or Grian, but Grian was more focused on Scar, who was inching back toward the still very on fire Tango.

There were many reasons Grian didn’t expect Scar to just jump, but he was proven very wrong when Scar not only succeeded in pushing off the ground without slipping, but had a high enough vertical to grab onto the hatch- the ceiling wasn’t that tall, but certainly higher than any normal person could jump. Huh. Jimmy yelped, but his scream was nothing in comparison to Tango’s, pitched and frantic and yelling NONONONONO, only stopping for long enough to catch his breath and blow a plume of flame into the face of a grinning Scar.

“Oh, did no one tell you? My skin’s flame retardant! And you haven’t been very nice, have you?” Scar laughed maniacally as Tango screamed, kicking his legs the rest of the way into the hatch where Tango disappeared, Grian hearing the both of them banging down whatever tunnels ran through the dungeon. Back in his Work Brain, Grian had half a mind to follow them and really teach Tango a lesson, but just as he took a step forward, eyes on the ceiling, he heard a low growl, and Jimmy’s voice, barely a whisper.

“Grian.”

Grian looked down. All three ravagers had closed in below the hatch, staring directly at him as they pawed the ground. Ah. Maybe they hadn’t decided to be friends after all.

The ravager at the lead charged, and Grian failed to suppress his scream as Jimmy snatched his hand, yanking him in the other direction. The ravagers were hot on their tail, perhaps hoping to make up for their shortcomings with Scar by mauling the other two participants extra enthusiastically, but terror and the ability to quickly take sharp turns made Grian and Jimmy faster, finally losing them after what felt like ages of full-tilt sprinting. Grian had to sit to catch his breath, and even Jimmy looked winded.

“I’m sorry,” the words fell from Grian’s lips in his weakened state, too tired to hold it in and too soft to want to in the first place. Something about terror, huh. Anyone’d turn soft. That, and it was growing clearer to Grian that he couldn’t have any difficult conversations unless there was some sort of threat to his or the other party’s life; maybe he should bring that up in therapy.

“What? It’s nothing,” Jimmy said, cautious, but his guard was also down, “We got away. Should get moving again soon though, we had to run a bit far from the entrance.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Grian huffed, but only for a lack of air.

“Uh-“

“Give me a second. Give-“ Grian groaned, head dropping between his knees. Fuck. It wasn’t like he was out of shape, just not used to running. His legs. Augh. He was going to die. “I’m sorry.”

Jimmy pursed his lips, “Alright.”

“I am. On. A lot of drugs.”

Jimmy was starting to look like he was scouting an escape route, or perhaps considering finding a ravager to hug. “..Yes?”

Grian closed his eyes, willing himself to stop being so winded so he could get to the point. “I don’t think you’re evil anymore. I think you’re probably normal. Normal guy. I don’t really know how to explain to you what was happening in my- in my head, but I wasn’t, I wasn’t seeing the world right. It was all fucked up. My body. My brain. And I don’t remember it all, I don’t remember much, but I was scared, and you really scared me, and I thought I could make you go away, but you were just a guy, a real guy who just wanted to be nice and-“

“Grian.”

“I’m not done-“

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jimmy turned to walk away, and Grian’s breathlessness now had nothing to do with his aching legs. He nearly slipped as he scrambled to his feet, but Jimmy was not waiting.

“I just wanted you to know. Everything I did, everything I said, it was wrong, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t well. I haven’t ever been well, but I’m trying. I’m working on it now.”

“Right.”

“You don’t believe me?” The idea distressed Grian to his very core, almost dizzying enough to knock him off his feet.

“I believe you,” Jimmy said flatly, and Grian wasn’t so sure he meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

“I bet you are.”

“I- I am! It’s not- it’s not sarcasm or a trick or anything, I promise. I promise.”

“That’s great, Grian. I’m happy for you. Happy you’re medicated and guilty or whatever. But whatever you have to say, I don’t care. I don’t care! You could be christened a goddamn patron saint and wouldn’t give a single fuck. I won’t do it. I refuse to feel bad for you. I refuse to make you feel better about yourself by accepting whatever flimsy apology you want to throw my way. You’re sorry? That’s great. I hope you are. I hope you feel really bad about yourself, and maybe you’ll experience a modicum of the bullshit you put me through for years after you left your mark.”

Jimmy met his eyes evenly, cold. Grian felt helpless as he stared back. Jimmy kept walking.

“I..” Part of Grian wanted to be angry. A lot of Grian wanted to be angry actually, but he couldn’t, not only because it wasn’t right, but because deeply, carnally, all of him understood. ���I can’t change what I did.” Desperately, Grian wished he could remember what exactly it was that he had done. That at least he could know, that the What wouldn’t have to be such a blurry, messy unknown.

“No, you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

They did not run into any ravagers the entirety of the walk back. Maybe that was the worst thing about the walk, since right now, Grian would have loved nothing more than to throw himself into one. It would have been easier. Though, these were the types of thoughts he was supposed to be looking out for, wasn’t he. Dismissing. Maybe Scar would get a drink with him. Probably not. Maybe Mumbo. Would Cub worry if he didn’t stop home, first? Grian didn’t want to. He’d text at least.

He wondered if Jimmy got something out of this at the very least. If there was a small triumph to be had, a feeling of having won. By the looks of Jimmy’s drooping wings, Grian guessed he felt just about as shit as Grian did. Joy.

Neither of them got any satisfaction from reaching the exit, depositing the artifact, and watching the door churn open, congratulating them on a job well done. Wordlessly, Jimmy climbed the stairs that pointed to the dungeon exit. Grian followed. Minutes felt like years before they reached the top.

Grian never offered that ride home, that hotel. Jimmy didn’t say goodbye. Why Jimmy walked back in the direction of the dungeon entrance, Grian didn’t know, but he didn’t care to think too much about it when Jimmy sat on the steps outside. He was already flying away.

[dxrkvampyre]

here are my starpie fanchildren designs!

(descriptions and explanations below!)

(all the details will most likely not fully follow or line up with canon timelines but idgaf)

Astral Tart (they/them): The younger sibling of the Starpie family! Graduated from Parfaedia with a major in Dark Moon Magic and a minor in Dessert Magic. They take after Stardust in both looks and career choices, exploring the galaxy alongside bounty hunting with their friends!

They lost their left leg and arm in a bounty hunt gone wrong, so their sister Star Puff built them new ones with astronomical instruments lying around in the city.

They are humanoid but took on some of Stardust's bird features in their alternate form, having talons and feathers. Their albinism gives them bad eyesight, but they rather use their cane and magic depth perception to see!

They contrast from their family by having a more eccentric and energetic personality, being rash, impulsive, and throwing themselves into danger for the thrill of it!

Star Puff (she/her): The elder sibling of the Starpie family. Currently working in the Time Domain Astronomy Division of the TBD. She graduated from Parfaedia majoring in Astronomy and minoring in Magichanical Engineering. She takes after her mother with her looks and personality but deviates from both parents with her love of tinkering with machinery and studying the night sky.

Star Puff was originally hired by the TBD in the the Relic Management Division to use her specialty to fix and study relics from beyond Earthbread. She was later able to help create and lead the Time Domain Astronomy Division to manage the anomalies connected to space-time when needed (black holes, messed up gravitational fields, etc).

Although being mainly human physically and not having magic abilities like her younger sibling, she has been cleared to create and use magichanical devices and weapons if needed by the Director. Her telescope is her main one, extending as a weapon but also helping with space research.

Despite being very different people leading very different lives and roles in the universe, the two siblings love each other and their parents very dearly! They never go a day without communicating, either through magic scrolls or time communicators.

Stardust and Blueberry Pie raised their children with the intentions to break the cycle of forced destiny and unachievable perfection they faced in the hands of the Wizards. The two siblings led a happy childhood full of love from both their parents, aunt, family friends, and the stars that roam the city. They always take time out of their week to visit Blueberry Pie in the Archives(unless Astral Tart needs bail)

I hope you like them! sorry if they're a little mary suey I hc them to be nepo babies with their connections haha

[hamartia-grander]

Flaming Fists stood at full attention within the Barracks and outside, dressed in formal armour and bearing the Ravengard crest - a raven with its wings fully extended, carrying a sword between its two talons and the Sun’s rays behind its head like a crown - on their shields.

Chapter 12 of my fic The Best Revenge is finally up! <3