Tumgik
#me tag lol sorta
fishfingersandscarves · 2 months
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my purple babby
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filurig · 19 days
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OK I WENT AND SCANNED THE ZINE I MADE AND... here are most of the pages - so every middle "spread" has one left and right page on the back of it and then a bigger pic once its unfolded, but didnt include every side for every larger spread.
this basically explores a bit of folke and adrian's relationship - adrian, the Creature, ends up finding folke's brother's recently deceased corpse and imitates his appearence, the only real way for a basilisk in their world to learn to shapeshift into something.
So their relationship is a bit complicated. but also, it ends up eventually settling into something that isnt only full of bitterness...
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sysig · 7 days
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Blood sugar levels (Patreon)
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ishgard · 3 months
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Presenting: An Absurdly, Stupidly Long and Wordy Warrior of Light-based Questionnaire, or as my bestie dubbed it:
30 WoL Think Thonkers
Less an ask prompt, more of a daily prompt, (though you can use it as an ask prompt if you prefer!) Answer the questions however you want: straight-forward, with stories or screens, or a mix of all.
Get any of your little brainworms out. Wax poetic, ramble off into several digressions, challenge yourself to answer in the least amount of words possible, whatever you're vibing with! (If you want to tag them #wolthinkthonkers feel free!)
This is very Warrior of Light and MSQ based. It's set from a Post-Endwalker mindframe, so there are some minor/vaguely worded spoilers.
----------------------- WARM-UP QUESTIONS
I. Where is your Warrior of Light from? What was their home like growing up and what set them out on their journey?
2. What city-state did your WoL start in? How did they feel about it then, and how do they feel about it now? (ie, did their experiences sour their perception, or make them appreciate it more?)
3. How do they feel about being Hydaelyn's chosen? (Feel free to break it down from ARR's "Champion of Eorzea" all the way to "The Savior of Etheirys" as much as you like. Have those feelings changed, or just grown more complex?)
4. What do they do in their down time? Do they have any hobbies outside of Primal-slaying and world-saving? Are these lifelong hobbies or recent interests?
5. How do they feel now that "it's all over" (the story of Hydaelyn and Zodiark)? What do they plan to do next? Or is their story finished - and if you're retiring them, what does retirement look like for them? Do you have someone else taking the stage going forward?
6. Who was their Azem? What were they like, and were they different from your WoL? Who were their family, friends? Or, if you don't care for the Azem angle or went in your own direction for their past self, how so? How does your WoL feel about their Ancient identity?
----------------------- CHANGES
7. Have they gone through any physical changes? What scars have they collected, and how do they feel about them? Did they sprout horns or other features as a result of spells or pacts gone wrong? How did light corruption impact them? Or have they walked away miraculously unscathed? Are they more peculiar for how eerily unmarred they are?
8. What is one of their biggest regrets? Has it had an effect on how they act moving forward, for better or worse?
9. The Warrior of Light has been through quite a lot, but what is a moment, big or small, that bolstered and renewed their spirit? Was it a cup of hot cocoa or a lovingly crafted sandwich? Did someone give them a few words or a gesture at just the right time that meant the world to them? (Of course, this can be a canon event or headcanon!)
10. What does home look like for them now? Do they still return to the home where they started, and if so has it changed at all? Or have they found or forged a new home? Who do they live with, if anyone? What sort of things do they keep in their personal space?
11. Despite everything, is it still you? Has the core of who they are as a person remained true through everything, or have they been changed by what they've experienced and learned, for better or worse?
13. Is there a canon moment you've drastically (or not-so-drastically) rewritten? A character death, or something that just really did not fit your WoL's character. Or just some alterations and personal touches you've added? Has that had any long-term changes on the wider story?
----------------------- STORY
12. Which canon moments shaped your Warrior of Light and impacted them the most?
14. Do you have any headcanons for what happened post-Ultima Thule? What kind of injuries did they suffer, or did they walk it off like a boss? Did they take a lengthy vacation, did you shove a time skip in there before 6.1 hit? Or was it quickly off to the next adventure?
15. What were their thoughts and feelings on the events of Myths of the Realm? How did they regard the Twelve prior, and how did the revelations impact them? Was meeting their patron particularly special to them, or not really?
16. What were their thoughts and feelings delving into Pandaemonium? How did they feel working alongside Themis and Lahabrea, after all their history? What did they think about how things ended?
17. Taking a step away from "canon", do you have any wholly unique side quests and adventures your Warrior of Light has gotten caught up in? Did they chase down ghosts of their own past, get married, open a bakery, or fix an ancient blood curse on their family line? Have they reunited with loved ones or buried old hatchets? If there's some unique story behind your character, how does it show up and how did it play out?
----------------------- COMBAT & ABILITIES
18. How do they feel about the work they do? As the Warrior of Light they're tasked with quite a lot of violence, is it something that comes naturally to them or do they resist it? Are they merciless, do they try to spare as many lives as they can, or do they fall somewhere in between?
19. While many fights are dramatic or have high stakes, are there any especially memorable or difficult fights they encountered? Outside scripted battles, were there conflicts that you thought felt better if they were tweaked for narrative or lore-based reasons, ie their first time fighting a primal? Or perhaps a more meta "You the player had a hard time so it translated into headcanon for them".
20. Are there any unique abilities that they possess outside of what's in-game? Are they actually a dragon, or do they see visions of the future? Or, is there a special way that their Echo manifests?
21. Jobs! What job is your character and why is that the route they chose? Is your WoL a Jack-of-all-Trades, or just have one (or a few) specialties? Did they start with one job and change to another? Have you 'homebrewed' their job at all, adding any unique twists or details to it?
----------------------- RELATIONSHIPS & THE WORLD
22. What are their feelings on the Scions? Who are some of their closest allies and dearest friends? Are they more of a loner, or closer to people outside the Scions? Have they kindled any romances or partnerships?
23. How do they feel about getting pulled into politics? Are they adept at navigating political intricacies, or does it go over their head? Do they appreciate getting asked to do more than punch their enemies, or would they really rather just punch their enemies? Are there any areas they like to be particularly involved in?
24. How do they feel about Hydaelyn? What was their perception of the Mothercrystal in the beginning, and how did that change by the end, if at all?
25. Do they have any particular enemies that stand out to them? Someone who inspired a lasting grudge? Our beloved and beloathed antagonists give us plenty of reasons to despise them, but are there any that particularly rubbed your WoL the wrong way? On the other hand, are there villains they can't help but sympathize with, even if it's at odds with the narrative or their allies?
26. What are their thoughts on the Ancients, their way of life, and the world they lived in? Did they sympathize at all with the Ascians, or did learning the truth not influence them in that way?
27. How well known are they? Does everyone know their name as the Warrior of Light, or have they managed to maintain some level of anonymity? Do they prefer it that way, and do they have any struggles resulting from it? (Getting stopped on street corners VS awkwardly avoiding questions.)
----------------------- WHAT'S NEXT
28. What's something they look forward to? Exploring the stars, more of a place we've already been, or somewhere we haven't? Or do they look forward to retirement, starting a business with their craft of choice, or any other little old thing?
29. How do they feel heading into Dawntrail? Excited? Exhausted? What do they think of the promises of adventure to come, and their role to play? If you're using a new character, do you have any idea how they'll end up on this path, and where is their headspace starting out?
30. What are they going to be doing while waiting for the ship to Tural?
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merakiui · 6 months
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thinking,,,,,,,, darling who has a cryptic pregnancy....... [insert twst character here] reacting to it,,, maybe you and floyd and you're both a little dense because neither of you could have ever guessed. T_T
"what do you mean you were pregnant this whole time???? i thought shrimpy just got softer. :D" - floyb mindset.
in floyd's defense, he has no idea how human pregnancies work. he slept through that part of land boot camp!!! fell asleep the minute the professor started droning on about how humans don't lay eggs like mers do. jade can only chuckle (maybe he knew, but in classic jade fashion he won't tell because it's much more entertaining to sit back and watch everyone slowly figure it out) and azul is shaking his head in disbelief. had he known, he would have prepared well in advance to lend a helping hand. and you're just so amazed because maybe you were told you're unable to get pregnant, but somehow it happened and you had no idea all this time.
thank you to floyd and his mer virility for doing what was thought to be the impossible!!!!!! <3
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faygelehh · 8 months
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CRINGETOBER 2023
DAY 3: UNNECESSARILY COMPLEX OUTFIT
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adhdtsukasa · 9 days
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prosekai au where everything is absolutely the same except niigo, instead of being a music circle, is a fanfiction writing-ish group. kanade is a writer, mafuyu is her beta reader, ena makes fancomics based on kanade's fanworks and mizuki makes trailers for upcoming fics. and basically that's it. niigo lore but everything revolves around them being wattpad ao3 users
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pepperpixel · 9 months
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“Can't remember when we walked past the O.R. sign!
(sur-ger-y!)
Can't remember passing out with her hand in mine!
(my-my-mind!!!!)
I remember waking up with my mind repaired.
(A-OK! ^^)
I remember when I realized, she wasn't there...”
Amnesia was her name….. is. so. horrifically. sadly fitting for these two in literally every single line. And I’m gonna NEED ALL OF U GUYS TO GO LISTEN TO IT NOW OK… THIS ISNT A DRILL GO GO GO GO!!!
Anyway… uhh. the fact Betty “blessed” this guy to like. An eternally long lifespan w THIS FUCKED UP OF A MENTAL STATE IS SO SCREWED UP GHGH- Like poor Simon god damn…! u kno he’d rather just keep on not sorting out his baggage and trauma forever too cuz it’d be too complicated… too much… force him to admit things about himself and about BETTY that he really really doesn’t want to… better to just leave it all unexamined.. pack it all into lil boxes so he can just try to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist… HE GOTTA LIVE FOREVER W IT THO… *ME BANGING ON SIMONS DOOR AT 3 IN THE MORNING*: “SIMON U GOTTA ACCEPT URSELF!!!! LOVE URSELF!!!! ACKNOWLEDGE N ACCEPT EVEN THE “BAD” PARTS OF URSELF!!!! SIMON PLEASE!!!!! SIMON EVEN PPL WHO LOVE YOU AND WHO YOU LOVE CAN HURT YOU!!!! ACKNOWLEDGE IT!!! ACKNOWLEDGE THE HURT AND ACKNOWLEDGE UR FEELINGS!!!! AND URSELF!!!!! SIMON!!!!” anyway… gGHGH YEA, SRRY. SIMON PETRIKOVS MENTAL ILLNESSES MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM GONNA EXPLODE. ANYWAY HAVE SOME ART. W a bunch of diff versions cuz I’m indecisive!
#adventure time#simon petrikov#betty grof#petrigrof#doodles#lol at tagging this petrigroff but nah I stand by it man!!!!#being a petrigroff shipper is understanding that I’m actually canon these two need som fuckin COUPLES COUNSELING. OR TO JUST BREAKUP.#like….. gGHG I LOVE BETTY BUT ALSO. ALSO… also…. these 2 have some issues… seperate and together issues. lmao#ANYWAY THO. ANYWAY THO. IM SO FUCKING EXCITED. I SAW THE NEW TRAILER. IM GONNA DIE. MY WIFE I GOT TO SEE MY WIFE#AND WERE ACTUSLLY GONNA GET SIMON MENTAL STATE SHIT YEAHHHHH!!!!#HELL FUCKING YEAH!!!!!!!!!#FIONNA AND CAKE DO NOT LET THIS NERD KEEP RUNNING AWAY FROM HIS FEELINGS FUCKING GET HIS ASS!!! MAKE HIM FACE IT AND WORK THRU IT!!!#pls!!!! if even Simon Petrikovs can start working thru his mental traumas there might be hope for all of us ghghg#uh but anyway yeah. AMBESIA IS HER NAME IS SO THEM.. STRAIGHT UP I FELT THE URGE TO EVEN LIKE. make an animatic for it!! it was so fitting!#im not gonna make an animatic cuz I don’t feel like it but!!! I saw it… I saw the animatic in my brain ghghg-#there’s a lot of typos in these tags but. just do me a favor… and pretend like there aren’t lol#fionna and cake#am I…. possibly…. projecting more mental trauma and issues on Simon. then he ACTUALLY has…#probably. yes. but!!!! he def still DOES have issues. I feel like I’m probably exaggerating the Betty ones cuz he#never really outright expresses feeling hurt by her. but also I feel like!!!! he’s the sorta guy!!! WHO WOULDNT EXPRESS THAT!#cuz he loves her!!!!! sO MUCH!! and she did so much and pushed herself so far and was trying so hard… and also she’s fucking basically d#dead now!!!! it’d be like. disrespectful of her memory…. to feel that. also what’s even the point of expressing that pain she’s gone!!!!!#she did all of that.. for him… how could he…. just. spit in the face of that#im writing those last few tags in the he perspective of simons mind btw… the things he tells himself….#anyway gGHG MAYBE I AM PROBABLY PROJECTING MORE ISSUES ON HIM THEN HE ACTUALLY HAS BUT WHO CARES MAN#I’m allowed ghghgh-#I wanna draw art of Simon having a traumatic flashback to the ‘Dont worry ull be obliterated soon!’ line and hating himself for it#ice king isn’t him!!! it isn’t him! it’s not him!!! why does that hurt it shouldn’t hurt she wasn’t talking to HIM#BUT SHE WAS#SHE WAS… she didn’t think of the ice king as Simon but he IS… HE IS AND JUST. URGHGH
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catscidr · 29 days
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Could we get some Dottore x escaped experiment reader? Gn if possible, doesn't even have to be smut. I just can't find anything along those lines and I like your writing style :)
i. note — hehehoho i might have uuuhhh used this ask as an excuse to go off a lil and try something new teehee °ᗜ°) but this was really fun to write!! thank you nonnie for the suggestion, and thank you very much for liking my stuff enough to req something!!! i hope u all enjoy ii. includes — dottore, gn!reader iii. cw — unhealthy and toxic dynamics, no dialogue, mentions of cannibalism, mild body horror, one (1) dead body, not quite stockholm syndrome but maybe kinda, reader is a mess and dottore is not a good person (shocker). minors do not interact, age in bio or block. iv. wc — 2k -> posted on ao3 too!
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To humans, running is what they do when they’re late to work, when they’re working out, or even when they’re playing games at recess as children. To predators, running is what they do in order to secure their next meal. To prey, running is what they must do so they can escape from the predator’s clutch in one piece, to not end up as a mangled corpse serving as someone or something’s food. 
You have more in common with prey than you have with humans, despite being one yourself. 
It hasn’t always been that way. One moment you were enjoying the warm afternoon sun of your home region out on a walk, and the other you found yourself thrown over someone’s shoulder with a bag over your head. 
You always find yourself reminiscing, yearning to feel the warmth you felt that day— minus the incident. You used to be a model citizen; someone people would rely on. 
A shame no one helped you when you desperately needed it. 
Your own mind is all you’re left with, as you’re clumsily tripping over your feet, rocks scraping your skin and blood trickling down your legs. The feeling is almost peaceful; but after running for so long, and with how often you’ve gotten yourself in this exact situation, you’re starting to second guess your motive for running in the first place. 
Is it a form of entertainment, are you growing bored of the four padded walls engulfing your five senses at all hours of the day that you feel the need to get the energy out of your body like a hamster does by using the wheel in its cage? Is it to leave the predicament you found yourself in after trusting someone you, under no circumstances, should have trusted? 
Or is it because you gradually have come to find yourself sharing more similarities to a dog, begging its owner to even unenthusiastically throw a plastic frisbee for a smidge of attention to fulfill your need to be seen, to be heard, and now you feel the responsibility to own up to that label you inflicted upon yourself? 
The lines between reality and your thoughts have blurred so much it frightens you. 
...Or, rather, it should scare you. After spending so much time in your own head, one would find that it’s surprisingly easy to come to distrust your own mind. You’re not sure if you should believe what goes through your head, even less believe what you feel. But at the same time, you’re all you have. You have no choice but to trust yourself, even when you shouldn’t. 
Only a select few are aware of how dreadfully strong and outright stubborn the human mind can be, whether it be from their own personal experience or from seeing others slip into a state like yours. 
Unfortunately for you, He’s familiar with your situation. Painfully familiar. 
… 
Sometimes you wish you were a luna moth. Delicate and radiant, people would be torn between praising you for your beauty and shunning you away for the crime of looking different than what they’re used to. You wouldn’t be a butterfly, would not conform to what society wants you to be. You would be able to be who you want, look however you want to without worrying over other’s opinions. 
The people that did like you, though, would treat you with care and would do everything in their power to make your stay in this world a pleasant one. A stay that would only last a week. 
Not long enough for you to become familiar with the horrors that await humanity. Seven days filled with nothing but genuine smiles, void of empty promises. 
You’d crawl out of your cocoon, eat good food, find someone to help continue your bloodline, then die somewhere peaceful and hope that your crumbling, decomposing body will bring relief to someone desperately needing something to eat. 
But you’re not a moth. 
… 
It’s unbearably cold when you come to your senses. Peeling your eyes open, you glance around to find yourself surrounded by cold limestone, barely illuminated by the cave’s entrance just a few feet away. The hairs on your skin rise from the wind guiding snow through the passageway, making you curl into yourself in a pathetic attempt to keep your body’s temperature from dropping too low. 
You look down at yourself; your pants are ripped at the hem, and you see messy splotches of brownish red staining the fabric and your skin, going all the way down to your calloused feet. You’re not sure how long you’ve been out for, but it must have been at least an hour given how the bleeding from the numerous scratches and gashes on your legs stopped without any assistance. 
The cave felt completely foreign to you, but even then, it brought you more comfort than He had. Or at least you think it does. 
You feel free. Despite the way your body shivered endlessly from the wind howling into the cavern, despite the dull but searing pain that made it feel like your feet were scorching that traveled up your legs, despite the way you couldn’t move your lips from how dry and cracked they were, split from sheer cold. 
You think this is the most freedom you’ve felt since you’ve gotten yourself stuck in His maw. 
... 
The wind is reduced to a soft, soothing melody when you wake up again. Almost calming enough for you to drift off to sleep a second time, but a nagging feeling in the depths of your gut told you that it was a bad idea to fall unconscious this time around, so you try to shake off the numbness in your limbs instead of succumbing to the call of the void. 
Standing up proves to be a challenge as your legs buckle under your weight. You catch yourself before you fall, holding onto the rough formation of a rogue stalagmite; it’s a struggle to hold yourself up, but at the very least you didn’t give yourself a concussion. 
The pain isn’t completely unwelcome, though. Your feet are throbbing, and the palm of your hand holding yourself up with the help of the stalagmite stings. As you blink the drowsiness away and the blood begins to flow through your limbs correctly again, you straighten your back to take in your surroundings properly. 
The cave’s entrance was filled with thick snow. There was enough that it would reach your stomach should you walk up to it, ignoring the snow that fell into the grotto, and not the snow that partly obscured your way to the outside world. You can’t see much outside, only the faint outline of pine trees wavering in the distance, far enough that you can only barely make out their form. 
Looking away from the blinding whites outside, you notice how utterly desolate the cavern is. Not even a single trace of a life was left behind in this cold, worn hollow. Maybe it’s better this way. You’re not sure you would have appreciated seeing even a wild hare or a fox in here, much less a bear. 
Sitting down on the rocky ground again to give your legs a break, you take a moment to think back to what got you here in the first place. 
You faintly recall rusty medical equipment, convulsing organs, and seeing Him jot down notes. You remember a plate being handed to you, the vague image of a man covered by a stained sheet of what used to be white, and the bile that rose to your throat when your gaze focused on what was on the plate itself. 
Everyone knew the Doctor was a twisted man, but you doubted He was twisted enough to force someone to cannibalize one of their peers. 
Clearly, you were wrong. 
Then, you remember making a mad dash for the thick iron doors of his laboratory. By the grace of god, you were able to leave; and you now found yourself in this desolate cavern, tucked away from civilization. 
As far as you were aware of. 
But you shouldn’t trust your mind. You knew this, yet you also knew not to trust yourself when you told yourself you couldn’t trust yourself. Simultaneously believing in logic and being a mess of paradoxical jargon— it exhausted you to think about. So you try not to. 
Whether by a stroke of bad luck or because of something else entirely, your dull sense of hearing picks up the faint sound of snow crunching beneath boots. Your hands and legs scramble to take you where you can hide as much of yourself as you can behind a rock formation, and you stare out of the cave’s entrance, holding your breath. 
The sound becomes louder. An almost gentle woosh noise accompanies the scrunch of snow, and soon after it stops, you’re able to make out a blurry figure approaching the cave’s entrance. The icy flakes make way for Him at His command, hand waving to get rid of what was keeping you physically separated from Him. 
The pure white snow behind His body glinted off his intricate accessories, the light forming a halo so otherworldly that it left you utterly breathless. 
His boots make a soft clicking noise against the limestone as He steps into the grotto, your safe haven for however long you had been here— now not. Not a single word left His lips as he assessed your rugged appearance. 
You wish He would smite you right then and there. He was most likely able to, and with ease, but you doubt He would willingly discard one of his longest-running experiments for disobeying a rule that you had broken many times before anyways. 
Your jittery gaze follows His movements as He outstretches His arm, offering you a gloved hand, silent. 
Did he know how much you simultaneously trusted and distrusted your own judgement? You stare at His hand, unmoving, heart racing against your ribcage— torn between bolting away, into the darkness of the cave, or intertwining your fingers with His, allowing Him to take you away voluntarily. 
This was mercy either way. You could either die at the hands of whatever lurked in the shadows of the grotto, or you could die at the hands of the man that brought you so much pain it morphed into comfort, solace. He stood, unmoving. Observing you. 
You knew Him well enough to know that He was taking mental notes on your behavior even now, outside of the familiar comfort of his lab in Haeresys. 
Both options were foolish, but you weren’t exactly known to be in the sanest state of mind. 
Pulling your arms away from your body, you bring a shaky hand up to take ahold of His, allowing Him to pull you up to your feet. You almost fall as a result of your nerves, but thanks to His quick reflexes you find yourself tucked in his arms, cheek pressed up against His navy cravat. The hand that wasn’t holding yours comes up to pat your head, gently untangling the knots that had formed in your hair. You melt into His touch, eyes fluttering shut to bask in the warmth He provided. 
As you stand there with Him, knees weak, body upheld by His will alone, you shove down the thoughts that brew in the forefront of your mind. Usually you would welcome the noise, even be grateful that you, at the very least, had yourself to lean on. But you find yourself wishing to lean on Him more than yourself, both literally and metaphorically, keening at the comfort He brought you. 
You knew you couldn’t trust your mind, so why not trust His instead? If you couldn’t rely on your own instincts, judgement or thoughts, then how bad would it truly be to let someone other than you become fully responsible for your wellbeing? 
... 
You were neither a moth nor human.
You were a dog.
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quinn-pop · 5 months
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magolor does not know how to be a real person part 5
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bro has vulnerability issues so bad he can only laugh at them
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sneeb-canons · 5 months
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tse wasnt actually that filled with rage the first time around , but as the loops progress he gets angrier and angrier and lets it out in tse , and eventually he starts giving up and then there just . isnt a tse and then he eventually stops participating like at all ( unsure if this needs tags , sorry )
Headcanon #267
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tonariofjananda · 1 year
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Based on a this ask
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Tubbo's YouTube chat having a thought-provoking conversation about Benson to rival that of Michelangelo or Aristotle, idk what old philosophers there were
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teecupangel · 4 months
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https://youtu.be/ifCWN5pJGIE?si=MvBHr36xNbHdsjYH
This kinda fits Desmonds mom in some way. Thoughts?
Here’s the embed video version for those who don’t wanna copy and paste the link:
youtube
I’m just imagining her hearing for the first time that her son, the son she hadn’t seen for nine years, could not even seen or talk to for one last time for the sake of both of their safety, was now dead.
Sacrificing his life to save the world.
Savior?
Messiah?
What used were those moniker to her dead son.
She wouldn’t be able to see him ever again.
She wouldn’t be able to touch his cheeks and take a good look of the man he had become in person.
She wouldn’t be able to smile and say “You’ve grown so much.”
She wouldn’t be able to ask…
“Were you happy these past years?”
“Was letting you go to be free worth the pain of not being by your side for nine long years?”
“It should have been you.”
She felt him freeze, the hands on her shoulders trembling ever so slightly.
“You should have died instead of our son!” She screamed as tears fell from her eyes.
He opened his mouth, most likely to call her name but stopped, letting out a gasp as her hands curled around his throat, squeezing him with the strength of an Assassin that have been in the field since she had been a teenager.
“You share the same blood as him! You’re a descendant of that cursed Auditore-Kenway line these beings haunt!” She shouted.
She could break his neck.
Snap it.
She’d done it before.
She’d kill so many people in the name of the Brotherhood before.
She was raised to be an Assassin.
She could just as easily-
She let out a frustrated scream as she threw him away, covering her eyes as bitter tears fell from her eyes.
He called out her name, his voice hoarse.
Was he grieving as well?
Did he loved their child as much as she did?
Who knows?
Who cares.
“Get out.” She lowered her hands as she ordered, the decades of forcing her emotions to shut down coming to the forefront, “Don’t ever show your face to me again, William Miles.”
Her expression turned to one of frigid nothingness.
It reminded William Miles of a recording of a memory of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.
The face the legendary mentor had made when his desire to kill the man who killed his youngest son triumphed over his desire for peace and truth.
“The next time I see you, I will claw open your chest and rip your heart out.” She promised in an emotionless tone.
She watched him leave.
The man she loved and loathed in equal measure.
It should have been him.
No.
It should have been them.
They should have been the one to die in their son’s place.
They both failed him as parents.
And now…
All she had left was a Brotherhood barely afloat and the useless legacy of her blood.
After all…
Those who have the blood of the Ibn-La'Ahad were meant to lose their beloved child.
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uhh heres some oc art 👍
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witherking001 · 3 months
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What if I did this to you? What if I held you?
Like a big burrito. 🌯🌯🌯
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