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#the original says full of souls
the-soul-starved · 2 months
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He is 5 years old today everyone clap and cheer for him right now
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I didn’t have time to do a full birthday drawing so I had to hastily edit this shitpost I doodled a few days ago
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cagcd · 8 months
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Skills  &.   powers.
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don't reblog or steal or i will live in your walls <3
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Johnny's interest in martial arts hadn't been intended,   despite his fascination with the likes of Bruce Lee and other famous action stars while growing up,   it never occurred to him that he would ever go down the same path as them,   and reach so far beyond than the life of any Hollywood star would ever hope for.   He began with a simple course of Karate as a means of self defense,   his mother came to the decision after many instances of bullying that went unaddressed and unpunished in his school,   he needed to learn to toughen up and stand up for himself,   [  a task that should be appointed to a father that was constantly out of the picture.  ]   It was fun to the young boy he was at first,   but as he progressed from one belt to another,   his interest had grown exceptionally,   he practiced non stop and got recognised for his hard work,   eventually earning him a spot in various local tournaments then world championships,   which he had won four in his lifetime.   His achievements gained him audience with the best masters around the world and he was eager to be taught by them,   he advanced in other forms of Karate like Shorin Ryu,  Shinto Ryu,   [  that he later developed better from Darrius' teachings,   who he had gotten to meet during his training in Orderrealm later on.  ]   He mastered Jeet Kune Do and Muay Thai as well.
  It was all skill and physical abilities that had unknowingly qualified him to be a part of the mortal kombat tournaments,   which he at first agreed upon as a publicity stunt to save his failing career at the time.   It was at the end of the first tournament that something within him had sparked into a life,   a power beyond his imagination or knowledge to ever be in possession of.   Raiden himself didn't seem to be aware of it but after some research it's revealed to the star that he was a descendant from a mediterranean cult that bred warriors for combat.   That green glow is similar in essence to the likes of Shang Tsung,   Quan chi,   Nightwolf and even Shao khan,   which is presumably cultivated by souls.   The method with which this cult used to create a generation of warriors by using the souls of their fallen as enhancement for combat.   It was dormant during Johnny's life,   awakened at the defeat of Shao,   as his last remains were fading,   he had unknowingly absorbed a large amount of souls the Kahn had in possession from all the worlds he had conquered.
  It was a gradual shift from then on,   something was off but he could never put his finger on It,   only for it to emerge during the encounter with Shinnok,   the green glow that encased his body and acted like a shield,   fading as quickly as it had appeared.   He couldn't summon it by will again,   but rather it showed by itself,   more frequently the more he fought,   constantly feeding into that power until the near catastrophic end result as sudden bursts of energy from a huge quantity of souls his body was now struggling to contain.   He sought Raiden and Nightwolf's advice in order to control it,   or at least understand it,   [  for he was worried he might hurt those around him unintentionally  ],   the only solution they could come to was to send him to Orderrealm,   where he went through long and extensive training by both Hotaru and Darrius,  the conclusion was learning how to channel those powers through controlled blasts of energy,   as seen through what became his signature move afterwards the shadow kick.   He also learned to direct them through his kicks and punches,   conjuring energy blasts,   then later and with enough experience,   encasing his body with it to be used as shield upon command,   or his fists and kicks as an enhancement of strength during combat.
  Moreover,   due to this connection with souls,   his attentive nature is heightened as he can sense the others feelings to a relative degree by picking up on negative energy and thus better understand those around him.   It might be said he mastered his inner powers with age,   he's certainly more in control and attuned to its full capacity,   he can channel energy with ease and fluidity as though its second nature to him or an extension to his strength.   But he isn't exactly in full control at all times,   as explained,   he simply learned how to channel it   &.   keep those bursts of energy in check.   However,   when he's driven to an edge and is at the end of his limits,   his powers shift from green to crimson red,   which happens only when he uses his powers to its full extent,   but lack of concentration in that state can he destructive and it's highly draining to him that his body shuts down completely afterwards,   it's a last trump card he uses only at dire circumstances.
  Johnny possesses those powers in the new timeline as well,   had never been aware of them but just like the previous timeline it's a gradual process,   already triggered without his knowledge during the fight against Quan chi to stop the well of souls from creating Ermac.   Some of the souls that escaped when the stone was broken had gone through to Johnny who had been knocked unconscious at the time.   Some semblance of his powers show through speed for the most part,   when he dashes forward to evade an attack or when he puts enough force into a punch or kick,   the shadow left behind is quick for the eye to see but there's a faint green glow within it.   It's a slight shift he had noticed but took it as nothing more than a result of more extensive practice.   But its only bound to grow and emerge in full with time,   well after the first tournament and constant combat that he finds out and seeks Liu kang's aid this time around.
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orphanbasement · 6 months
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I'm a bit fucking dense
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nexus-nebulae · 13 hours
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found my ancient mp3 player recently. finally found a charger for it and plugged it in. and remembered i found a yt playlist of the whole httyd movie chopped up into like 20 videos and i downloaded the mp3s of all of them to listen to on the school bus. which is why i can effortlessly quote the whole first movie now
#i was. unhealthily obsessed with that whole franchise#oh my god i just remembered i used to write rise of the brave tangled dragons fanfic oh my god 😭#i didn't publish much but i had an irl friend also in the fandom and we shared a quotev account to publish stuff together#i still remember the full name she used online#we both used our main characters names online- Rosa and Sara#though i sometimes went by Jenny bc canonically Jenny was Sara's name before she changed it the second she wasn't on earth anymore#(<- EGG. EGG. EGG. EGG.)#(like legit the second she got isekaid she cut her hair super short and changed her name-)#also sara canonically had the ability to absorb others' souls when they died and then shapeshift into them majoras mask style#(<- EGG CARTON. EGG CARTON. EGG CARTON. EGG CA#sara was dating jack frost bc of fucking course she was. also she had fire magic#Rosa was with Hiccup#and then we had another fic with Kate and Billie who were sisters#years after me and the irl friend stopped talking and i reworked the characters into their own original stories#Billie ended up in a lesbian relationship with a girl named Raven#and they ended up finding Billie's long lost infant sister and raising her like their own kid almost#also i say i wrote RoTBTG fanfic but honestly. i did not care much for tangled back then#i included Rapunzel because i didn't want to seem petty like i was just cutting out the girl i didn't like#bc i did like her just not enough to write her#but she never like. Did Anything#if anything she was usually stuck talking about politics with Stoick and meridas parents and couldn't adventure much#such is the life of a royal i reasoned . so i do not have to have her there and be bored by her#usually i replaced her in the quartet with fucking Melody from little mermaid 2 bc i was unreasonably obsessed with that since childhood#i watched little mermaid 2 before the actual first film because we owned the vhs and i was SO obsessed with melody i LOVED her#i also wanted to become a mermaid and loved singing#so i just. found ways to shoehorn her in#i do not remember everything that i posted and everything that stayed in the vault#bc when me and that irl stopped talking we both deleted Everything in a fit of 14 year old rage and pettiness#I've long since deleted the quotev account- she actually kept using it for years and i let her cause i wasn't THAT petty#but it was under my email and since i noticed she seemed to have abandoned it and i needed to delete the email. it is now gone
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ngtskynebula · 3 days
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Just saw someone say they reblog AI "art" because they find it beautiful and that's it, and I'm like. ...Okay,
If you say so... 🤨
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trashbatistrash · 4 months
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,
#I’ve written myself into an interesting corner in my original work#I have a character that is essentially a frankenstein’s monster in essence#she is more technically an animated corpse. it��s just that the initial soul inhabiting the body was not the one that returned#so in essence the Frankenstein’s monster parallel#is the new ‘person’ another soul mistakenly tied to the wrong body#or did a new soul bud within the now empty vessel?#then there comes the question on whether or not I’m perpetuating the ‘born sexy yesterday’ trope by going with the 2nd one#because there is a good marker in story on how a new soul could bud within the empty vessel#but the most time I could allow it is like 5 years for story reasons#it’ll be painfully sad if I wait a full 18 years to make sure the ‘bsy’ trope is well and truly negated#it’s like a balancing scales thing#because I think every writer likes when things are intertwined#like I could but that just means one of my other characters has to suffer more for longer#actually maybe I should#but it might idk weaken the stakes a bit#or I can like just add more world building and make more things happen?#or I can just take the five years and hope that it’s enough OTL#buckling in for like potential discourse I guess o(-(#because she’s gonna be an adult and is an adult#like the brain she inherited is of a I want to say 26-30 year olds#her carers treated her like someone treating an amnesiac#but I still want her to be a different soul than the original for narrative reasons#their tastes are different. their wants are different. their entire personalities are different except for one single thing#and idk what message that relays really I just wanted to write a trans Frankenstein’s monster that transitions post awakening#I think about her more than the plot device that’s the actual narrator of this story OTL#I think I’ll puzzle this out somehow o(-(#ramble#my things
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annabelle--cane · 4 months
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"the magnus protocol had a whole ARG beforehand? what?"
yes! it did!
"oh so I need to have participated in this whole big thing to actually understand the podcast?"
not at all! from the official post-mortem put out by RQ, "while the ARG was not something that was necessary to participate in to understand the magnus protocol, it was designed to contain a wealth of background story and context that would enrich any player's listening experience."
"a wealth of background context that would enrich my listening experience 👀👀👀 how can I learn about this?"
SO glad you asked. sadly, many of the materials made for the arg have been taken down since the game ended 😔 (ex., the official OIAR, magnus institute, and bonzoland websites. (edit ii: I found partial wayback machine captures! see below) though @strangehauntsuk is still up!), so we're a bit low on primary sources, but in terms of learning about what happened:
for a starting point, I would really recommend this video by @pinkelotjeart
youtube
it's super accessible, it was made in real time as the game progressed and follows the solving and revelation of clues as they happened, it hits all the major points of the mystery and moments of community insanity while eliding some of the nitty gritty puzzle grinding, 10/10 would recommend.
here's the official summary put out by RQ, and I'd recommend reading through this once you've already gotten a basic handle on the flow of the story and the basic connections between major clues and events. it's got some fun behind-the-scenes info and lays out the thought process behind the puzzles in simple terms
here's the full masterdoc of all puzzles and resolutions put together in the statement remains discord server. masterdoc my absolute BELOVED, masterdoc my bethrothed, masterdoc my soul mate. I'd recommend this as a second port of call after the above video as it either contains all details about the puzzles or links to other expanded docs that do.
here's the narrative summary doc that lays out all the plot and lore discovered in three pages of plain prose. if you just want to get to the good bits as fast as you can and get blasted directly in the face by contextless lore bombs, this is the doc for you. if you don't want to start with the video, I'd say this is another good entry point.
once you've got the lay of the land, some of the game materials that I found particularly interesting include:
the in-universe east germany expat usenet forum, with all content translated into english. most of it is irrelevant space filler with occasional extremely sus lore, but I still found it fun to read through. love to soak in some fictional forum drama.
chdb.xlsx, the spreadsheet of the names of all the children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was studying/experimenting on. EDIT: here is a version of the sheet without any annotations and with all of the names in their original order, kudos to @theboombutton for catching that the commonly shared copy had the order swapped around.
klaus.xls, a (very corrupted) spreadsheet with what looks like the classifications of a bunch of old OIAR cases.
EDIT: have a few more saved materials from the game that I forgot to include.
an in-universe audio ad to apply to the OIAR that ran before archives episodes and kicked off the whole game.
an in-universe video ad to apply to the OIAR, this one is an official upload that's still up from the game itself. you can subscribe to the OIAR's official youtube channel today, if you so chose.
the robo-voicemail greeting from the OIAR's phone line.
EDIT II:
here is a wayback machine capture of the OIAR's official website.
here is a wayback machine capture of the bonzoland website.
(pretty sure both of the above captures just archived the home pages, though I haven't tried clicking all of the links. I'd say they're still worth looking at, the home pages give a good window into the vibes.)
once you start poking around in these documents, you'll find a bunch of links to others with further information, the materials I've included here just contain what I feel to be the most relevant details to getting a broad feel for the whole game. once again, huge shout out to the statement remains server, I was barely in there as the ARG was in progress and only ducked my head in every so often to find links like these. true mvps of the fandom.
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critterbitter · 5 months
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re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?
Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)
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Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.
Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.
(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)
How it Started.
The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…
Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.
So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.
But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.
Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.
I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.
Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.
Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.
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(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)
So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.
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(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—
1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.
2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)
Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:
PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.
It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.
(As for Volo, well.
Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.
Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)
(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)
(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.
Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)
When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.
Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.
Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.
THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA
If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.
((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))
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(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡
König w/ an Innocent S/O
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
There is nothing König won’t do for you.
Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.
And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.
He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.
Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.
A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.
A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.
There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.
And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.
And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.
Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.
He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.
And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.
He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”
Makes him feel all big and important.
Wear his clothes around him, my God–
First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.
He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.
He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.
“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.
“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.
It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.
You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.
Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.
The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.
It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.
Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.
“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”
And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.
At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.
And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.
Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.
Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.
But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.
He knows what you’re doing.
And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.
Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.
To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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anantaru · 4 months
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Hi Yoru
Fontain characters that surprised they can get hard again after second round?
including. wriothesley, neuvillette
synopsis. getting hard again after cumming twice
a/n. this might be unrealistic getting hard without an aphrodisiac or something after already cumming twice but these men aren't real so woohoo!!!!!
cw. very filthy, lots of cum lmao, they have bottomless endurance your honor, insatiable men!!!!!!, dirty talk, cumming inside, fem! reader
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— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱
erratic fingers spiraling through disheveled silk, perspiration on your skin, your back arched like a bow, all presenting a delirious state.
after the second time wriothesley emptied himself in you, your thighs glistened of dried cum, little beads of his gift glowing like blazed selenite around your pussy and legs while his cock rests on top of your stomach, twitching and spent, or that is what you originally thought.
you two are insatiable, the honeymoon phase just never seems to disappear. your souls and kisses attempting to chase heaven that was only possible with the help of your bodies becoming one.
the need— that deep craving, it's always concealed in your smile when you want another round from wriothesley to push his cock all the way inside your velvety, clenching walls, your hums following an innocent tune of, "you're not tired yet, or are you baby? hm, you must be getting old," you jest, fiery gaze beneath your lashes.
to which, he'd reply with, "yeah, old and tired, don't you see?" he points to his palm slowly fisting his semi-erected length, hard, "as you are now sweetheart, still bratty and full of energy, i cannot leave you in that state, can i?"
your minds were too dazed by fucking and drooling all over each other, your perspiration oozing down your sticky flesh, your bodies too unstoppable.
you pout shyly at him, igniting a lust inside of his heart, "no, you cannot, i'm glad you say that," as you sneakily wiggle your hips up to make his fat tip rub into your weeping folds.
wriothesley's jaw couldn't help but fall at the way you were so blunt about it, it was fucking sexy, everything about you was so sexy.
when you're showing him how much you wanted this, wanted him.
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— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱
your skin is blistering like coals when you look down to your core, your eyes darting right there as neuvillette pulls his cock from your hole, and with that, the complete mess he's left to stick on your weeping walls.
gazing and marveling at how he framed your delicate figure with his unbeatable marks wasn't new to you— in your undivided truth, the iudex was the most handsome, most graceful when his skin was bounteous of spit, arousal and sex, candid pheromones ghosting in the air and enhancing the sultry scenery to your eyes.
every time he took off his garments and exposed his porcelain skin, your jaw couldn't help but go slacked, and when he bounces your body on his cock, you need to make him go harder. despite the quivering on your thighs and legs, you do not want him to stop pumping his load in you— not even after the second time.
doe-eyed, neuvillette leisurely rubs his cock in between your creamy folds with an audible groan, fuck, it felt so good, and there was a mysterious enchantment webbed in his muscular abdomen when he leans down to your body, his biceps flexing when he fucks his palm, his velvety tip tapping against your stretched-out hole whenever he grinds his hips into the small tunnel of his hand.
it wasn't long until neuvillette was entirely hard again, his pain-stricken erection throbbing in his hand but wishing to twitch in your wet walls instead. for the far greater pleasure, you swathe his hand away before replacing it with your own, gliding your delicate trace alone the length of his cock, skilled enough to coax a broken shudder from the body that leaned back into you for support.
"forgive me, dear," neuvillette sighs out in defeat, his heart stuttering, "feeling you.... like this, always leaves me stranded with a hunger i cannot quench," the last thing he wanted was to drive you up against the walls or something— neuvillette wanted you to rest, the man found it embarrassing to get hard again despite you allowing him to spill himself in you twice already.
if only he knew that you couldn't get enough of him either.
his dripping length pressed in between your palm made his body react to you automatically, and you fist him harder before making him shrivel in anticipation, "it's okay, you see? let me help you out," your voice provides him with a certain hotness that swallows his body whole, which in fact, the warmth begins to travel from his neck down to the entirety of his spine.
you line his cock up with your slicked hole before finally popping his fat tip through the tight entrance as he drools at the feeling, like it's the first time he's felt you tonight— when in reality, your dried up arousal and his thick cum covering the majority of your flesh would beg to differ.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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illnessfaker · 3 months
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tw: black+trans death
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from the_yvesdropper on instagram:
our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.
he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.
Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.
one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :
"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"
(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)
Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.
there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother
there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)
judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:
I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...
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azrielbrainrot · 4 months
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury
Word Count: 6670
Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!
Part 1 ○ Part 3
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Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.
Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.
His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.
In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.
Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.
He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.
You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.
As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.
He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.
Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.
He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.
He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.
His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.
His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.
“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.
“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.
He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.
Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.
Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.
Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.
He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.
“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.
He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.
He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.
“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.
“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.
“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.
“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”
“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.
Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.
“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”
“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.
“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.
“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.
He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.
“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?
Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.
Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.
“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.
“I will not leave her.”
“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.
Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.
He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.
He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.
Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.
“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.
“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”
He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.
He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.
“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.
When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.
Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.
Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.
That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.
“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.
“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”
“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.
“Why would she hurt you then?”
“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.
“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.
“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”
“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?
“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.
“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”
“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”
Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.
⋆。°✩°。⋆
You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.
You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.
The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.
You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.
Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.
Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.
You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.
As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.
You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.
As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.
You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.
You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.
The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.
When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.
“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.
“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.
“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.
Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.
The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.
As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.
If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.
Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.
Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.
You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.
When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.
Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.
You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.
A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?
“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.
Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.
You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?
Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.
“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.
He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.
You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.
“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.
Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.
“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.
“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.
You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.
The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.
“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”
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laenordeservedbetter · 5 months
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Why?
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Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)
Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.
This one-shot is based on this tweet.
A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.
not my gif. || masterlist
Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.
Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”
“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.
“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.
“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.
“Then why are they holding hands?”
“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.
Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.
Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.
Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”
You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.
You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.
Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.
“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.
She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.
You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.
“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.
Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”
Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”
Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”
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nyctoaerah · 1 month
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yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!
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╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.
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╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀
Masterlist
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🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.
🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!
🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”
🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.
🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.
🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.
🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.
🔪🔪🔪
Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.
“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”
Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.
“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.
“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.
“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”
“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.
“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”
“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”
“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”
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🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.
🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.
🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.
🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.
🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.
🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.
🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.
🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.
🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.
🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.
And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.♡
🔪🔪🔪
Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.
“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.
“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”
The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.
Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.
Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones,  Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.
With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.
“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?” 
“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.
“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”
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shepscapades · 3 months
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Souls in the Sand: Concept Art
As I’ve mentioned here and there, I’ve spent the last two years developing an original story inspired by a small Origins+Empires server a few friends and I started planning. The more I developed plans for my empire to be a sprawling overgrown cityscape of ruins and stone framework inspired by the nether, the more I built up this backstory for the character I wanted to play, a small deerfolk boy named Esra. From there, and over months of working and reworking the story and its characters, I’m proud to say I’m coming up on a 100 piece gallery for my Masters Exhibition to display this story in the form of a song-inspired comic, titled: Souls in the Sand.
Over the next month and beyond the date of my exhibition in April, I wanted to start sharing my work here! I thought it would be fitting to first share all of the concept work I did for the characters last semester as I took each character from their old lineup and reworked them from scratch to see if there were any designs I could make more unique or appropriate for the story. This process consisted of four stages: silhouettes, full-body mock-ups, face and head shapes/designs, and experimenting with the final characters’ designs with a set of unique expressions that best fit their personalities and narrative role.
Since each character was reworked separately, the “new” concept lineup is a little disjointed (and some of the characters’ faces actually ended up different from their full-body designs), but I thought it would be fun to line them up to compare the overall cast to their old designs. With each character(s) I post the concept process for, I may share little bits of the work I’m doing or talk a little about their narrative roles as I go, but for now, have Esra!
I know I don’t post original work here often, but I wanted to share parts of this journey with you guys because it’s been very meaningful to me! And I hope all of the work I’ve been doing may at the very least serve as a bit of inspiration or encouragement for us to keep making silly minecraft stories, to keep drawing the characters we love, and to keep being creative in whatever way is meaningful! <3
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thesirenisles · 1 month
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Pluto’s Sirens 🦂
beauty, love astrology observations ✨
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scorpio sun, scorpio moon, scorpio mars, scorpio ascendant , Scorpio lilith, Black moon lilith
8th house placements including Lilith
Lilith aspects, Pluto Aspects, Venus Opposing Trine Conjunction Square Pluto, Ruled, Dominant
Pluto in the 1st house, Pluto in the 8th house
“She knew death quite well. She often drowned. But, never in fear. The storm waters of love, pain, and sorrow filled her lungs and from their depths, she rose metamorphosed — a captivating phoenix of the sea.”
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please do not steal any of my original work.
🦂Child of Pluto,
The stunning dark beauty that disappears intermittently, only to reemerge a brand new person.. having lived another full life to it’s completion.
You have walked the Valley of Death and your essence was fortified by means of eternal hellfire. There’s really no wonder why you’re so intimidatingly hot. 🔥
As a water sign, this is similar to the siren-like energy of Neptune. However, a Neptunian might unwittingly lure suitors to their death, but you, Plutonian Goddess are the siren who wants the kill.
🥀You are the siren they fear.
You are a mistress of the deep, a beacon of light through the annals of life’s taboo topics like sex, death, occultism, and mystery.
When considering Plutonian energy, I imagine the scorpion deep within a fierce ocean of emotions, burrowing deeper and deeper into the sand… searching and feeling…
Deep within these depths is where you thrive. The drowned woman… I say this because Scorpio is a fixed sign, meaning its energy can be stagnant.
So, it is literally fixed water or stuck water. Being stuck underwater can symbolically connote to drowning.
This is also where the big misunderstanding of Scorpio comes from because… a scorpion does not belong underwater?? Yup, you’re an anomaly.
But, hence this is literally why you cannot stay under water for too long. You’re meant to dive deep beneath the surface, transform yourself, others, and your surroundings BUT only for a little while.
If you try to resist and stay submerged, life literally pushes you to transform and resurface for fresh air. By the end of your journey, you come out reborn anew, carrying nothing but the wisdom you’ve gained.
At your core, you are here to transform yourself and others.
With this energy, you are always digging and craving depth wherever you go, whether you realize it or not just like the scorpion. This could be for emotions, the truth, or other extremes.
Your plutonic vibrations sometimes does this for you and easily charm souls into revealing their darkest and deepest desires to you.
Pluto has gifted you with a gaze that certainly helps to compel information, while also commanding authority and exuding power. (It’s giving Vampire Diariesss)
🥀A fierce siren, you wish to take hold of your romantic partners, friends, and families and lead them to the deepest depths of human existence.
But, this is only an attempt to free them from the confinement of the human ego and mundanity.
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🦂The Misunderstood
The Scorpio/ 8th house slander is endless. But, I feel it’s just misunderstood. I love Plutonian energy. I find it refreshing, possibly because I have Scorpio 11th house & Scorpio Mars lol.
But, I get them. My longest friendship is with a beautiful Scorpio Sun and I have never had to second guess her loyalty.
She has been through more than anyone would guess, but maintains a heart of pure gold. Her shell is hard to crack though.
This is because you guys have seen the other side of life… death. You are aware most people aren’t living their truths or even knowledgeable of the truths of this Earthly realm… and it infuriates you at times.
It’s not easy being the one who sees a liar in a fake smile or an enemy within a friend. You see people without their masks and you call them out when needed… including family.
This can ruffle many feathers, of course. We all know how truth tellers are deemed in society.
And to some, your intense need to dive deep can terrify them and trigger them because in some way they are not living their authentic truth.
But, it’s meant to!
Pluto in the 1st house natives know this reaction well, as they wear the hellfire mark wherever they go. This triggers those who are not comfortable with darkness or their own shadow self.
Significant Lilith placements can resonate with this energy. Your presence and rebel energy triggers those whose identity is based upon a facade.
A Plutonian is a friend with their shadow self. They have seen the likes of all darkness.
You are the wounded warrior with these placements, (and honestly deserve so much more and so many hugs for what you’ve survived🥹) But, you seldom allow anyone to see you sweat or any weakness.
This need to conceal weakness hides your incredibly, loving heart and loyal spirit.
You can come off a bit brash at times. (Think, Jade from Victorious… Marlo from The Wire.. Matthew McConaughey’s character in True Detective) But, Its hard to empathize with those who seem ungrateful for their less challenging life paths or who refuse to make simple life changes out of fear.
You are like a butterfly. You have lived several lives, experiencing completely new things at each stage of life, but ultimately improving yourself each time.
While painful at times, that’s your superpower. ✨
The ironic part is that people see you in your Butterfly phase, ornate wings and beautiful colors, and assume you have not had it hard.
Until you sting. 🦂🩸
Absolutely incredible and yet so misunderstood.
Believe me when I say, it is such a GIFT to be able to transform in a world where Saturn’s energy reigns supreme.
🥀A piece of advice I leave to you all is… while understanding death.. DON’T forget to LIVE. Take a page out of the book of your sister sign, Taurus or Planet Venus… pamper your soul. 💅🏾
You are allowed and capable of just as much happiness and soft living as any other soul. Do not be afraid to open up and love or allow yourself to be loved.
You ARE loved over here! ❤️🫶🏾
🦂La Petite Mort “Little Death”.
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To possess significant scorpio or 8th house placements is to live through many small deaths to be born anew.
Ironically, while Pluto rules sex, the French saying for an orgasm is Le Petite Mort … or “Little Death”.
Perfectly fitting.
With these placements, you can transform yourself and others through your sexual encounters.
🥀Your sex is transformative!
The sexual energy exudes from your pores, thanks to Papa Pluto and those around you can smell the fragrance.
When a suitor spots you, perched upon a rock amidst the chaos of the ocean… they can’t look away.
They don’t know what it is about you, but they are drawn… hooked and captivated by your watery siren gaze.
You call to them on the shore… and they approach only to be grasped and delivered to the bottom of the ocean for an unforgettable awakening.
This is why Scorpios/ Plutonians/ 8th housers rule the sack. There is less inhibition, less hesitation, and your goal is sink your prey… to the depths… and transform them. (This gives me chills to think about… very powerful stuff!)
Both men and women of Pluto have this quality. Even if they aren’t perfectly symmetrical or dreamy, you have to admit they are HOT AF & their raw sexual energy caught your eye and made you wonder if you even possess the endurance to swim in their waters…
Keep transforming the world Plutonians! We need you!
Thank you for reading! Wishing you blessings💋
Neptune Energy Observation is here. ♓️⬅️✨ MERCURY energy observation here. ♍️♊️ Mars Energy Observation ♈️♏️✨ masterlist
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Alton Mason (Scorpio Sun) and Kofi Siriboe (Scorpio Pluto, Moon, Jupiter STELLIUM 😮‍💨)
@thesirenisles
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