Tumgik
#swift wing
frostaoftheday · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
Today’s Frosta of the Day has been brought to you by: Shifting into superspeed while objecting.
40 notes · View notes
virtualsonic · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Cringer y Swift Wing T. un C. de P. en un P. V.
Versión en Español
Hola amigos ¿cómo están?, espero que bien amigos, bueno amigos, aquí va un nuevo dibujo y que presento a dos personajes pertenecientes a un universo de dibujos animados queridos por generaciones y que se topan una vez más para iniciar con un combate de práctica para ir no sólo probando sus habilidades para el combate físico, sino que también para estar siempre listos para pelear contra las fuerzas del mal cuando se encuentren lejos de su universo y que gusten de pasar algo de tiempo a solas para poderse destacar como los héroes que están destinados a ser, así que sin dar más vueltas presento a Cringer y Swift Wing Ponerse en Posición para Iniciar un Combate de Pŕactica en un Vacío Páramo de Greyskull
Aquí vemos al joven tigre verde con rayas amarillas toparse con el chico unicornio una vez más y que lo hacen con el propósito de tener un combate de práctica en dónde ambos chicos esperan darse una dura e intensa batalla para ver quién de los dos es el más fuerte del dúo, mientras vemos que ambos chicos se ponen a hacer la típica pose de luchador de lucha para poder comenzar con la pelea, para así gradualmente ir hacia un estilo de combate más propio de un mundo de fantasía como es Eternia y que ambos chicos tienen habilidades que normalmente solo la muestran cuando pelean como héroes individuales y que ara vez la muestran cuando son las mascotas que ayudan a He-Man y She-Ra recorrer grandes distancias y llegar siempre a tiempo a los lugares en dónde existan amenazas malignas que pongan en peligro la paz y tranquilidad de sus mundos, además de ser los enemigos a derrotar para que sus villanos logren sus viles planes
Bueno amigos, espero que les guste, ya que hace tiempo que no hacía un dibujo de estos chicos y más considerando que no los dibujo con frecuencia al ver que gusto de planificar los dibujos que hago y que normalmente lo haga con 2 a 4 semanas de anticipación en el caso de que deba lidiar con alguna contingencia que pueda afectar en la programación de estos, por como siempre pueden surgir imprevistos que pueden arruinar tus planes y más cuando esos planes se dan justo en el día que quieres hacer tus dibujos, pero que tu agenda cambia de un momento a otro y sin consideración de tu estado de ánimo y tus prioridades, mientras vemos que estos chicos se preparan para dar con un duro e intenso combate que se espera que vaya a ser largo y más considerando el cuerpo físico que ahora tienen los chicos en este caso, bueno amigos, disfruten el dibujo y nos vemos
Cringer y Swift Wing (C) Mattel Incorporated, Filmation, Dreamworks Animations y Netflix
English Version
Hello friends, how are you? I hope you are well friends, well friends, here is a new drawing and I present two characters belonging to a cartoon universe loved by generations and who meet once again to start a practice match to go not only testing their skills for physical combat, but also to always be ready to fight against the forces of evil when they are far from their universe and who like to spend some time alone to be able to stand out as the heroes that they are meant to be, so without further ado I present to Cringer and Swift Wing Getting into Position to Start a Practice Match in an Empty Greyskull Wasteland
Here we see the young green tiger with yellow stripes run into the unicorn boy once again and that they do it with the purpose of having a practice match where both boys hope to have a hard and intense battle to see who of the two is the most strength of the duo, while we see that both boys start to make the typical wrestling fighter pose to start the fight, to gradually go towards a combat style more typical of a fantasy world such as Eternia and that both boys they have abilities that normally only show when they fight as individual heroes and that they rarely show when they are the pets that help He-Man and She-Ra travel great distances and always arrive on time to the places where there are evil threats that put in danger the peace and tranquility of their worlds, in addition to being the enemies to defeat so that their villains achieve their vile plans
Well friends, I hope you like it, since it's been a long time since I did a drawing of these boys and more considering that I don't draw them frequently when I see that I like to plan the drawings that I do and that I normally do it with 2 to 4 weeks of anticipation in the event that you have to deal with any contingency that may affect the programming of these, as unforeseen events can always arise that can ruin your plans and more when those plans occur just on the day you want to make your drawings, but that your schedule changes from one moment to another and without considering your state of mind and your priorities, while we see that these guys prepare to find a hard and intense fight that is expected to be long and more considering the physical body that now they have the boys in this case, well friends, enjoy the drawing and see you
Cringer and Swift Wing (C) Mattel Incorporated, Filmation, Dreamworks Animations and Netflix
0 notes
Text
∴。 
 ・゚*。.
  ・ *゚
  ・ ゚*
・。
*・。
*.。
。・
°*. ゚。
°*.
゚*.
。。 ・
。 ・゚
。°*.
。*・。
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
cametotheshowinsd · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I love you, it's ruining my life.
THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT || April 19th, 2024
3K notes · View notes
sparksflys · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Time, mystical time...
965 notes · View notes
troythecatfish · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
249 notes · View notes
madeyplace · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
" ᴏʜ, ɪᴛ's ɴᴇᴡ, ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀᴘᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴅʏ
ɪᴛ's ʙʟᴜᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ
ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ's ᴏᴏʜ, ᴡʜᴏᴀ, ᴏʜ
ɪᴛ's ᴀ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ
ɪᴛ's ᴄᴏᴏʟ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴛᴇʟʟ 'ᴇᴍ
ɴᴏ ʀᴜʟᴇs ɪɴ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴀʙʟᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ
ʙᴜᴛ ᴏᴏʜ, ᴡʜᴏᴀ, ᴏʜ
ɪᴛ's ᴀ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ
ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ " 💖💫
➴ Art by
➴ Comm. by me and @acoracaodefogo ;@/steelprincesss (insta); @lesolehabitantdelalune
➴ Happy Valentine's Day || Feliz dia dos namorados 💘
➴ Characters belong to @sarahjmaas
PLEASE DON'T REPOST WITHOUT ASKING.
694 notes · View notes
thisblogisaboutabook · 3 months
Text
The Fated Truth
Azriel x Reader
Truth-Teller’s origin story. A multi-pov oneshot.
A/N: this story came to me after listening to the songs seven, vigilante shit, it’s nice to have a friend, and my tears ricochet by taylor swift.
warnings: attempted sa, language, suggestive language, parental abuse, violence, main character death
Tumblr media
The Angel
-Ladies always rise above -
Remove the dagger from his heart.
-Ladies know what people want-
Wipe the blood from the corner of your kohl lined eyes.
-Someone sweet-
Spit on the bastard.
-Someone kind-
Swipe at the next overgrown male.
-Someone fun-
Hit your mark, swing around, drive your dagger into the brute on your six.
“Well, shit.” you think to yourself as a group of ten overgrown bats rush toward you. Siphons glowing.
The irony isn’t lost on you that yet another thing they withheld from you would contribute in damning their very existence. A female with siphons was considered absurd and absolutely out of the question, it wasn’t your place - yet this incontrolable blast of raw killing power begged to differ.
One moment those pricks were running toward you and the next, they were ashes in the wind.
Looking at the dead females around you, pure rage boils within. Your insides could be cooked at this point for all you know. Not a single feeling but uncontrollable rage.
A gasp breaks the silence. One of the females is still alive. Running to her, her eyes filled with panic, breaths rapid and shallow. You lean down and whisper to her before unsheathing your dagger and holding it up. Her eyes widen in terror but not at you - behind you. You turn to look.
“Azri-“
The blast of power hit before you could finish saying it - your mate’s name - your final breath.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Journal
Nine year old Y/N
“I made a new friend! His name is Azriel. He’s like me! He’s two years older than me and can’t fly but he still has his wings. I wish I still had mine, we could learn to fly together. Azriel has burn scars too but his are on his hands instead of his back like mine.
He’s really quiet but it’s okay, I talk and he listens! He has shadow powers though. I don’t think I’m supposed to say this but they’re really cute! One of them followed me home from my chores today.
I have to go now. Dad is yelling. I think he’s mad again.”
11 year old Y/N
“Father hit me again last night. I got upset and my power hiccuped. I asked him for a siphon and he locked me in the cellar for asking. I have bruises that hurt really badly but I’m okay.
Azriel saw me this morning. I tried to hide the bruises but he notices everything. I cried and he listened to me. Sometimes I think he’s the only person who sees me.”
13 year old Y/N
“One of father’s friends came over two nights ago - they were drinking. I had to refill their mugs of ale and the friend grabbed me inappropriately. Father laughed. When he left the room his friend pulled me into his lap and his hand drifted below my waist. I was scared and my power flickered, throwing me backward and flipping the chair over with him in it.
The blast broke his arm and nose. I don’t feel bad.
I tried telling father what happened but he didn’t listen. He locked me in the cellar from that night until this morning.
One of Azriel’s shadows found me and picked the lock. Father either forgot he locked me away or didn’t care because he never came to check on me or give me food. I found a canteen of water on one of the shelves though.
Azriel retrieved me as soon as his shadow notified him. He took me back to Rhysand’s Mother’s cabin and she fed me. Azriel stayed by my side as I took a bath - there were even bubbles. I’ve never had a bath with bubbles before. Azriel saw my scars peaking over my towel after I climbed out of the bath and instinctively clenched his hands. I took them in my hands and kissed them. Our scars prove our strength. He tells me mine are beautiful but his are too. All of him is.
He’s my best friend.”
15 Year Old Y/N
“I spent the day with Azriel yesterday. Sometimes we sneak away and train. He teaches me self-defense maneuvers and even some Illyrian fighting techniques. My powers have been growing a lot lately too. I am still not allowed siphons though. It’s getting harder to contain but training with Azriel serves as an outlet.
I got into a fight with father again two nights ago. He threw a knife at me. I avoided it but if it hit me, it would have landed in my chest. He called me an “ungrateful whore just like my mother.” I was told that mother died in childbirth but sometimes I wonder if it’s not true.
When he locked me in the cellar this time, I let out a blast of power. It ripped a shelf off the wall and down with it came a dusty box I’d never seen before. I opened it to find a beautiful obsidian-hilted knife and a note that said:
For my beautiful babe. May the light of truth always find you, even in the darkest places. I will always love you. -Mother.
I can’t believe it was there all of this time. It broke my heart to know that she had been locked away in the cellar too. The only thing she was able to give me. She loved me. Those words meant so much. Someday I will be reunited with her in the realm beyond and she’ll share her truth with me.
Oh I almost forgot!! Azriel snuck into my room this evening and I showed him the knife. He held me while I cried tears of joy and sadness over this gift from my mother.
He’s going to train me in wielding it.”
16 Year old Y/N
Father was away on a training exercise last night so I went to a party at Rhysand’s cabin. It was fun but Morrigan was there. She’s so beautiful and I think Azriel likes her. He looks at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky.
He’s my best friend and I have loved him for a long time but sometimes, I feel an ache in my chest. Maybe I love him as more than a friend? I left the party early and trained with my hunting knife alone at our usual spot. He didn’t come looking for me.
This morning he stopped by and we practiced together. He seemed sad for a bit but I didn’t press. He tends to prefer more physical methods of expressing his feelings. He was still sullen afterward so I brought him back to my house for tea. We laid in bed together for hours. I know it’s frowned upon but it’s never gone past holding each other. He needs touch as much as I need his listening ear.
I think I’m going to ask him to spend the night.
17 year old Y/N
Yesterday was my 17th birthday. Father didn’t pay any mind to it as always. He says it’s “a reminder of what I did to my mother.” He drank himself into oblivion which left me free to leave the house. He probably never realized I left.
Sometimes I want to tell him that I know his secret - that there was more to her death than my birth but I know better. The following blow up would be catastrophic. At this point, my power has been growing so much that I think… I think I’m more of a danger to him than he is to me.
But… something big happened. Azriel took me flying. We looked at the stars and he flew me far north to see the Aurora. It was almost as beautiful as him. I may or may not have cried tears of joy.
Az playfully kissed my tears away but then something happened - what started as friendly kisses sparked a flame within me and I… I noticed a shift in his scent too. We locked eyes and he kissed my lips. Hard, fervently, like maybe he sees me as something more. We landed in a clearing under the Aurora and kissed for hours.
I love him. I love him wholeheartedly.
18 year old Y/N
Something happened last night! Az and I have spent a lot of nights together recently. Any time father is away, he comes over and we lay in bed kissing and talking for hours until his shadows inevitably lull me to sleep. But last night, I kissed his jaw and down his neck - he grabbed my wrist and growled!! Not a scary growl but a… possessive growl. He told me that if we started this, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
So…. I kept kissing him. Lower. And Lower. And, well… the rumors about wingspan are true.
We had each other over and over all night, until Cassian and Rhys came knocking on my door looking for him.
18 Year old Y/N part two:
Father has hardly been around. He’s been visiting other camps. I’m thankful for the break from him and especially thankful for the time I’ve spent with Azriel. We’ve spent countless hours entangled with each other over the past few months. My power has been stirring a lot, it’s still growing. Training hasn’t been enough so this physical outlet between Azriel and I has been a lifeline. I can’t get enough of him. He told me he loved me - and I knew this time it was different. He truly loves me and not just as his friend. He knows that I love him too.
But things have also been trying… Morrigan has visited a few times recently and he’s still so enamored by her. Honestly, I get it. But it still hurts. Sometimes I want to say something about it but I don’t want to cause problems. There’s a rumor that she slept with Cassian a couple of years ago and things have been different between Azriel and Morrigan ever since. He broods more than ever when she’s around.
Maybe I need to fuck him senseless, until all he can think about is me.
Just kidding, but seriously.
19 Year Old Y/N
“I have a secret.
A really big, life altering secret.
Azriel is my mate. I don’t know if he knows but last night - things were really passionate, when we came together, that golden thread people talk about, it just… SNAPPED for me.
Things have been really bad with father lately and there have been more wing clippings happening. My heart hurts for the girls. I used to feel sad because I never had a chance to touch the skies (until Azriel learned to fly and carried me into them) - but to have been able to fly for so many years and lose the ability. I couldn’t imagine. Those males deserve to suffer.
Father made a comment recently saying that he gave me a ‘gift’ by cutting off and burning my wings as a child. It made me furious - my power slipped. It destroyed most of our living room furniture and half our kitchen table. I could scent the fear in him when it happened. I think if he wasn’t such a coward - he would have killed me. I have hardly seen him since.”
20 Year old Y/N
“Azriel is taking me to a formal party at another camp! I can’t wait. Rhysand’s mother even made me a dress for it. It’s the most beautiful clothing I’ve ever owned. She also added a hidden sheath for my knife.
I just finished getting ready - I feel like a shooting star. I’ve never felt so… so powerful and gorgeous. My eyes are lined with kohl and my hair is braided with silvery strands woven in.
Tonight is the night I’m telling Azriel. I’m nervous, so, so nervous, but he deserves to know that we’re mates.
Morrigan will be at the party too. I really hope I’m not making a mistake by telling him tonight. I know he still cares for her so I will wait until after the party and it’s just the two of us in the sky before telling him. Maybe he’ll take me to look at the Aurora again.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The Survivor
The infamous Shadowsinger made his way to her - approaching slowly, trembling, two palms up in the air as if to placate her.
He knelt down to the female who cried out in a blood curdling scream of pain and fear.
“P-pl-please don’t!! Don’t hurt me!”
“I’m here. You are safe.” The Shadowsinger choked out.
She didn’t understand. Why would he kill that female? She was only trying to help.
“Y-yo-you ki-killed h-her.” She cried out right before everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Shadowsinger
Devastation. Pure devastation threatened to rip Azriel to shreds. What the hell happened in a matter of hours?
He’d barely seen Y/N at the dance. She’d arrived to the party with all eyes on her. She held her head high, wearing her scars proudly. He couldn’t help but admire how she let them shine tonight. He’d walked in with his hand on her back his scarred skin to her scarred skin. It wasn’t a flaw at all, but a lovely match. They were beautiful together.
Tonight was the night he would ask her to move in with him. He was now making a small salary - enough to buy a little cabin for the two of them. It was time for her to get the hell away from her horrid father. He planned to take her to view the aurora that she loved so much - and present her with a special gift - her very own siphons. She was the strongest Illyrian female he knew - really she was stronger than any Illyrian he knew aside from maybe him, Rhys, and Cassian. She’d struggled with her power and the misogynistic Illyrian bastards in Windhaven refused to allow her or any female such a privilege.
He’d worked out a plan with Rhys, who convinced the smith that crafted the siphons that he was going to try his hand at wearing siphons one more time - claiming he had a new method of siphoning his power through them that would prevent shattering. While they both knew it was bullshit and the siphons would never work for Rhys - they would then gift them to Y/N without raising suspicion.
Mor was at the dance tonight. He had gone over to visit with her and shared his plans for tonight with her. She squealed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug, requesting a celebratory dance. They’d gone out on the dance floor for a couple of songs and when he pulled away to steal a dance with Y/N she was gone.
He’d searched the party through when a couple of males burst through the door - yelling of a female going crazy and murdering local villagers.
Az immediately vacated the party to take down the assailant - sending another partygoer to alert Rhys and Cassian who were currently bedding a set of twins in one of the suites.
He was taken back when he landed at the site of the attack. The carnage was brutal with blood coating the snowy ground, littered in dead males and females. His heart nearly stopped when he realized, at the center of it all, there she was. Y/N holding her hunting knife over a severely injured female.
Stunned by the sight, Azriel prepared to send a wave of power out and knock the knife from her hand. Right as the power readied itself for Azriel to fire, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes met his and snap. His body jolted - a golden thread between him and the blood splattered beauty before him - the surge caused his arm to jerk and a much more powerful blast emitted from his siphons. He missed his target. For the first time in his life, he missed it. Instead of the knife, the deadly blast of power hit her.
His mate. His best friend. His equal. His eternity - ripped away in a second.
Everything after that was a blur. His only memories of those moments played on a constant reel in his head flashing images of the injured girl screaming “you killed her!!!!”, collapsing on top of Y/N’s lifeless body, screaming to the mother or any other deity that may listen - begging for her chest to rise and fall again, and then four strong hands pulling him off of her before everything went black and his brothers voice calmed his mind.
~~~~~~~~~~
Days later Azriel woke up from whatever sedation Rhys had put him in. When he woke, Cassian was by his side. It was all of a minute before the memory came flooding back.
Azriel thrashed only to find he’d been restrained.
“Brother..” Cassian said firmly.
“Brother!” he yelled
Azriel’s wrists and ankles were on fire as he thrashed. He had to get to her, had to.
Finally Azriel cried out “Y/N!!! Y/N!!!!”
“My mate! Where is she!? WHERE IS SHE!?” he screamed and cried, thrashing against the restraints with all of his might.
Everything went dark again.
“Az…..” Rhys spoke softly into his mind
Azriel didn’t have the strength to scream or yell in this space of sedation. He could only whisper “where is she?”
Silence filled the void of his mind before Rhys spoke. “She’s gone, Az.”
Devastation flooded through him, filling him completely, making that one sided bond reverberate every ounce of emotion back to him.
Rhys waited patiently, sending soothing waves of darkness into his mind. Knowing Azriel well enough to wait until he was ready to send a thought back.
“Why, Rhys? Why did she do it?”
Again, that damned silence as Rhys paused.
“If I show you now, I’ll have to keep you under for longer, Az. You’re a danger to yourself right now and this… it’s heavy, brother.”
“Do it” he gritted.
Azriel’s mind became entranced in a vision. Before him a massacre. He was seeing through the eyes of a frightened female, eyes bleary from sobbing.
A large group of males had corralled several females into a circle, some as young as five or six. The males all carried sharp objects ranging from sickles and scythes to swords and axes.
A male stepped forward - Y/N’s father - who spoke:
“Females of Illyria have not served us well in many years. They forget that their purpose is to care for us, maintain our homes, and cater to our physical needs. Instead, they insult us by wasting time and energy on training - as if our protection is not enough? Young females smuggle herbs into our camps that delay their bleed so they can fly where they please, whoring around with whomever they please. These behaviors reflect negatively on all of Illyria, leaving us to appear weak to enemies.”
And then the bloodshed began. The males ran at the females, corralling them in closer and closer. Butchering wings and brutalizing any female who dared fight back. The screaming, gods awful screaming, pierced the air.
Male screams suddenly burst out - a blast of power knocking ten of them on their asses.
And there she was, in her resplendent glory.
“Hello boys.” She smirked.
Y/N’s father stepped forward. “My traitorous daughter, and dressed like a slut too. Shall we show them what happens to women who don’t obey.”
“Oh yes, ladies, my father took my wings when I was four. He burnt the stumps too. See these scars?” She turned around briefly with a wave to her back. “Someone I love helped me realize how beautiful they are, a stark reminder of what I can overcome.”
She paused, looking to the females as she addressed her father:
“So yes, father, perhaps this is the fate of disobedient females - but allow me the honor of showing YOU the fate of males who think they can steal a females power.”
-They say looks can kill and I might try-
Her piercing eyes again met her father as she threw a hand out, sending another blast of power - a death blow - turning him to ash in the wind.
Before any of the males could react, she sent another larger blast, creating an opening near the most vulnerable of the females.
“RUN! Those of you who can fight - you may stay. Those of you who are unable - there is no shame in leaving now! Seek shelter!”
The females nodded toward a teenage girl, signaling her to gather the youngest females and ran off with them. Any males that tried stopping them were turned to ash.
“Ladies, show them who we are!” Y/N cried.
-The ladies simply had enough-
They were outnumbered, so terribly outnumbered. Some females had died before Y/N arrived - bleeding out from the butchering of their wings but the few remaining females fought bravely. Because of their lack of training, the males easily overtook many of them but Y/N led them bravely, valiantly, taking them out as best as she could.
As the female numbers lessened Y/N cried out for the females to evacuate, to seek healers. The remainder of the females fled aside from two females (one of which this visions point of view was from) who appeared to have more training than the others.
Y/N looked to them giving a knowing look seemingly saying “give them hell.” They adjusted their stances into that of the most fearsome warriors, and took on the remaining males as more and more fled in.
Y/N’s power was like nothing they’d ever seen. She took down male after male.
Before she could react, two males approached from behind taking out the other female and knocking out the vision of the female whose mind Rhys had gleaned into.
As the female blacked out, the vision faded away. Silence once again filled the air for several minutes before Azriel said:
“But.. she was holding a knife over the female. I don’t understand.”
Rhys answered in a heartbreakingly soft tone
“I can show you, brother. But this will be hard to see. Are you sure?”
Azriel replied firmly, “show me.”
Rhys hesitated before continuing. But then the vision resumed as the female regained consciousness:
Her eyes were so blurry. She was hurting terribly but managed a gasp. Around her, all of the males were dead and the bodies of their fallen sisters painted the snow red. Emotion flooded through her, she couldn’t move. As her vision cleared further, she saw her. The female who fought so bravely for them.
Y/N saw her and ran over. The blood caking her braid causing panic. The trauma of this night was too much - the blood so triggering. Y/N sensed the fear and whispered “I am here. You are safe now. Look at my eyes, not around you, not at the blood on me, just my eyes.” The female tried but couldn’t look away from the blood in her hair. “I’m going to bring my knife out and cut the braid. Do not be afraid.” Y/N once again unsheathed her knife, lifting it, when loud wings flapped in. The injured female couldn’t get words out, her only signal to Y/N, a wide eyed look of panic.
Y/N turned around - breathed out “Azri-“ just as that fatal blow of power hit her.
“STOP!” Azriel cried out in his mind. It was too much.
Azriel’s body began convulsing as a mixture of rage, heartbreak, and panic flew through him. “I KILLED HER. I KILLED HER. MY MATE. MY MATE. MY MATE.”
Rhys had no choice but to send out another wave of sedation to his brother.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next several weeks were spent in and out of sedation. Rhysand had found that Y/N’s father had been planning the attack for months, perhaps even longer. The camp was chosen for the first attack because of the party - a distraction to lessen the chances of interference from outsiders.
He planned to carry out more attacks throughout Illyria in coming months. Had it not been for Y/N, more would have happened. Her heroic actions prevented so many more losses than just the ones that were saved that night.
Azriel stayed bedridden for months - only leaving when Cassian and Rhys nagged him enough that it wasn’t worth the energy to refuse them. One day Rhys brought in a box, inside the box, Y/N’s knife and a journal. “She would have wanted you to have this.”
Azriel’s chest broke at the sight. Her mothers knife, the knife they’d spent hundreds of hours training with. He almost refused it but it felt like a piece of her. A reminder of her goodness, of the mate he lost.
That night he laid it under his pillow - an odd comfort as he read through the journal. The journal unveiling that she knew they were mates. His heart cracked further knowing that the reason she’d stepped out that night was likely to get some air after she saw him with Morrigan. “Stupid.” His inner thoughts cried out to him. How could he have been so blind?
He lay awake for half the night as he read through her journal - he sobbed for hours until his shadows finally lulled him to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
Truth-Teller
“Azriel” a soft voice whispered.
“Azriel” the lovely voice whispered again.
He was dreaming.
He tried to whisper her name but couldn’t speak.
“I don’t have much time, I need you to listen.”
He again attempted to speak but no sound came. He nodded his head.
A flash of light illuminated his mind and there she was. Somehow even more beautiful than she’d been - if that were possible. Her form illuminated with an incandescent glow, face full of light - a light that only came from insurmountable joy and happiness. And behind her, behind her were stunning golden feathered wings. An angel, his angel, stood before him… with six glowing siphons.
“Azriel, please do not cry for me. I am at peace. This was always my destiny. The lovely truth of my life was that all of the pain led me to you, I found a love, a friendship, that so few experience. Every step led me to where I am now and this afterlife is beautiful. The truth of life is that fate is inevitable.”
She waved a hand and out stepped more winged females. The females who died in the attack.
“What happened was not an accident, it was fate. You could not have changed the outcome. When you sent your power out toward me and the bond snapped, my power shot through the bond into you, reflecting back to me. You only sent out a small blast, the fatal blow came from my refracted power.”
Azriel’s eyes widened at the revelation. His heart still completely shattered but the guilt slightly lessened.
“When you sealed my fate it trapped a piece of my soul in the knife. I am forever bound to Truth-Teller. When you carry truth-teller you carry a piece of my power, of me, with you. Though, I will be with you regardless, as a part of me will always rest…” she held a delicate hand to her heart, “right here.”
His mind raced. Truth-Teller. What she’d named her knife after the truth of her mother was unveiled with it.
“I must go now, Azriel.” She waved an arm again to her fellow angels. “I am the keeper of the Mother’s gate and this is my legion. This was always my destiny - this and to love you. I will keep the bastards out and someday, someday far from now, I will hold the gate open for you.
Until then, may the truth set you free my love.”
A beautiful woman resembling Y/N stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her mother. The angels all nodded to Azriel in confirmation.
“My precious mate, I will love you for eternity.” Y/N whispered as she shot toward the sky - right into the most vibrant aurora he’d ever seen.
~~~~~~~~~~
Truth-Teller
500 Years Later
Azriel still thought of her every damn day, Truth-Teller never leaving his side. His North Star, the angel guiding him through life. He never told his brothers - didn’t know how to explain how that broken mating bond glowed inside him whenever his intuition failed. She’d guided him in her own way all of these years.
Leading up to the war with Hybern the tug became stronger and stronger. A warning of the strife to come.
For the first time since the night Rhys brought him her journal and Truth-Teller, she reappeared to him.
“Azriel.” Her melodic voice whispered, a sweet song serenading his soul.
“Azriel, I don’t have much time.” that honeyed voice whispered.
In the same fashion as last time, he couldn’t speak. Managing only to nod.
“I have carefully pulled the strings of fate as much as I am capable. A war is coming with a fate that I am unable to divulge. The Mother has allowed me to share just this:
“The fawn who sees carries the truth. When the time comes, you will know.”
Azriel furrowed his brows with confusion.
Y/N smiled softly, outshining any star in the sky, more captivating than the spirits of Starfall. “The truth will set you free. Do not fear loving again.”
He fought and fought, trying to speak, thrashing against the walls of his mind he was able to mutter three words to her.
“I love you.”
She placed a hand on her heart.
“I know, my love.”
Spreading those magnificent wings, she shot from his mind, the void filling with the echoes of her song.
“Until eternity reunites our souls.”
170 notes · View notes
koszmarnybudyn · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
They are creatures.
#dndads#dungeons and daddies#my art#normal oak#link li wilson#taylor swift dndads#scary marlowe#im not doing the swiftli week cause i dont have time (literally procrastinating school stuff as im making this) but the angel/demon#thing gave me ideas and as such this was made#there is symbolism and thought here but also just shapes#so taylor has those little antena like his hat and hes a demon because of course and he has that thingy thats also his hat (and it has a#faint blue overlay because jodie/love as an anchor) and i borrowed the snmile from the nbdemon because its been on my mind and apart from#that hes just chuby and cute and fluffy#link is looongg and he has the most basic as to how i draw angels design i made his legs extra long cause soccer and i gave him orange#(Garfield+signature color)#and red (blood that is on his hands/his isssues/him not being as pure as he was once) and he has extra wings cause hes fast#i think he ended up looking kinda like those birds with the eyeliner (also his hands and feet being darkened#also allude to his “dirtied hands”)#theres normal whose a star because that's what i associate with him (more starfish looking because i wanted to give him dots to symbolise#acne and cause hes not goood at being an angel hes not an actual star his coloring make a teenie the teen T and the markings make him look#like hes wearing a tshirt he has little fire works that are suppose to be like cheerleader pompoms#scary is the most shapy one shes sharp and “edgy” i thing she ended up just slightly harpy like which i enjoy her not being fully colored is#because shes a shadow of her former self shes the least symetrical as well with the one wing and one eye#sooo yeah im a sucker for religious imagiery and symbolism#anyway i need to get to my actual work byeee
146 notes · View notes
paperbackribs · 3 months
Text
werewolf steve, werebat eddie (ch2)
🦇🧥🦇
Eddie’s knee bounces in the stationary van parked outside the Harrington house; he stares down at the open Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual clutched between his arms, flipping between the werewolf and the dire wolf. A drawing of the former has it standing upright, muscled and snarling with outstretched claws; his eyes are drawn to chaotic evil.
He knows that Steve isn’t evil. He does. The man who had spent hours next to Eddie at his hospital bedside showed an honour and trustworthiness that had drawn Eddie in even before he’d recognised it.
No, the caring guy he’s come to know is about as far from an alignment that lacks compassion and kills for sport as someone could get. That Steve is capable of wielding a nail-bat against the monsters of the Upside Down only lends an appealingly chaotic feel to the man Eddie had begun to think of as a rogue knight.
Sighing, he flips to the other page held open by his spare hand: dire wolf. Unaligned and a beast advantaged by its pack, this seems like Steve’s speed. Resembling his transformed self more acutely with its simple, albeit large wolf appearance. His finger stops on the bloodied maw, but the idea of it is still terrifying.
Reluctantly, he turns to the page he’s now memorised by heart. Man-shaped, this monster growls with open fangs too; sharp tapered ears are fixed on a figure draped in an aristocratic overcoat and cape. Finger trembling, he traces undead and lawful evil before pausing over bat polymorph as one of the vampire’s characteristics.
A loud bang smacks against the side of the van and Eddie jumps high enough to hit his head on the Chevrolet’s roof. “Ow, Christ!” He hisses, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at Dustin grinning at him through the closed window.
“Come on,” he shouts, “Everyone’s here!”
Eddie scowls, leaving behind the manual to tumble out of the van. Dustin immediately starts pushing him from behind and Eddie whacks at him with his hands, “Lay off, man. I’m coming, okay.”
Dustin hums doubtfully, “Yeah, but I watched you sit in the van for the last ten minutes and that was only after I noticed you’d arrived. Who knows how long it was going to take you?”
He quickly opens the front door before Dustin pushes him right smack into it, but the younger boy continues shoving at Eddie until he stumbles into Steve’s living room. In a similar configuration to yesterday’s intervention, the party sits, lounges, or stands about the room, quietly talking.
On the couch, Robin sits cross-legged with Steve who’s flipping through a magazine. Eddie’s relieved to see that all four limbs are human-shaped, and mouth only curved into a soft pout as he contemplates the article in front of him.
Everyone pauses to look over at their loud entrance. Steve glances up and, meeting his calm expression, Eddie almost blushes at how uncoordinated he must have looked falling through the door. He averts his gaze to El who approaches him with an outstretched palm, “Are you ready?”
Eddie sighs but takes her hand; she leads him to the open floor and they sit across from each other, “Yeah, we might as well do this. So, you’re going to force the bat out or something?”
“There’s no guarantee that you can shift,” Lucas leans back against the wall next to Will with casually folded arms. “You could be a normal human with bat scars and that’s it.”
“Or I could be a vampire of the night,” Eddie counters darkly. “I’ve been craving meat lately.”
Max rolls her eyes, “You have not, you big liar. I saw you scoffing down Honey Crunch on your front porch only two days ago.”
“Yeah, well, I was high. Maybe weed mellows out the beast.”
Eddie’s gaze flies to Steve when he snorts, but Steve looks away, concentrating on the magazine that Eddie suddenly suspects he’s not actually reading.
The thought that he’s avoiding Eddie stirs a familiar sense of guilt, giving rise to the niggle that he’d tried to forget after the wolf left yesterday, further punctuated by Robin’s distinct stink-eye. Even amidst the fear that had gripped him, he’d been able to see a sad, dejected version of Steve in the down-turned tail and slow trudge away.
“I'm going to take you into the void,” El says, holding out both her hands over her knees and Eddie takes them at her urging. “When I visit Steve there, he is able to feel the wolf and communicate with him.”
“I sort of see him next to me, if it helps,” Steve finally pipes up, watching Eddie warily like he’s expecting him to reject the advice, but Eddie only nods grimly. He’s going to need all the tips he can get he suspects. “Do I let it possess me or something?”
Steve frowns, a hint of reproach about him, “My wolf doesn’t posses me, he is me. Just like I’m him.” He shakes his head at Eddie’s confusion, “If you have a bat or a vampire or, I don’t know, maybe you’ll have a wolf too, then just reach out to him. He wants to be a part of you and you’ll both figure it out from there.”
Eddie looks into the steady gaze of Steve’s hazel eyes and feels it like a hand over his own: Steve has done this before, and successfully. He just needs to trust in the rogue knight one more time. “Okay,” he says, closing his eyes and following El’s lead.
🐺🐺🐺
Steve throws his Fine Gardening magazine onto the coffee table and leans against Robin’s shoulder, she presses back. “Does it usually take this long with me,” he murmurs, trying to keep quiet for the two sitting silently in the middle of the room. Both El and Eddie have their eyes closed and hands clasped with the other. Max had turned the television to a snowy channel to help channel El’s concentration with the static sound.
She hums a negative, “But then, you two only did it to play around and see if there was more you could learn about yourself. This is Eddie trying to find out whether he even has another version to turn into.”
She grabs his arm suddenly, “Wait.” Steve blinks, unsure of what he’d seen other than to describe it as a pulse around Eddie. A long beat passes before the trick of the eye flickers again, so quickly that Steve can’t be sure of what he’s seeing.
In one rapid swoop, the air around Eddie contracts, pulling abruptly inwards until Eddie the human disappears to be replaced with a bat standing unsteadily in front of El. He blinks wide eyes, faltering on tiny feet before stumbling over to land on his back.
Eddie squawks in what Steve thinks is shock before frantically flapping his extended wings and tossing over to push up into the air, erratically darting around the suddenly panicking humans.
With one wing beating harder than the other, he drunkenly tilts and rolls into Mike’s long hair. Shrieking, Mike pulls Eddie out and flings him away even while crying out, “Shit! Sorry, Eddie! Sorry!”
Eddie cries out himself and flutters, gaining his momentum only to slam into the wall with a thump next to Dustin who leaps forward trying to catch him, but Eddie desperately twists before leaping higher, aiming for the peak of the ceiling.
“Catch him,” Will yells as Lucas runs out of the room.
“I’m trying,” Dustin shrieks in a tone that matches the high screeches of Eddie above them.
Robin shrugs off her boxy jacket, “Wait, I’ve got this.” She advances on Eddie as he zig zags against the wall again, but he must see her as a large threatening animal because he chitters wildly before smacking his wings at her face. Robin yelps and falls, only narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the ground by Max urgently jumping underneath to stop her rapid descent.
Lucas skids into the living room, triumphantly holding aloft the large pool skimmer usually stored in the garden shed. “Steve,” he yells before throwing it across the room.
Steve deftly catches the long handle in the air and, with a twist of his wrist, scoops Eddie mid-flight. Quickly flipping the pole, he entangles his small body in the net.
Panting or, in Mike’s case, holding down his hair, the group silently gather around the squirming bat version of Eddie as he shrieks and tries to bite his way out of the thin rope.
Steve thinks of his first fumbling and panicked steps: the distinct difference between having two legs extended to four, not even at the right height, let alone the terror of suddenly having a completely different way of looking and feeling the world had been indescribable. There are still scratches in the wooden floorboards from how hard he had dug his claws in to stop his legs from skidding in all directions.
“Back up, guys,” he says softly, keeping his tone low and soothing. “Hey, Eddie, hey,” he shushes, positioning the net against his torso so he can roll Eddie out of the mesh without letting him escape. Everyone steps back or sits in a chair, and Steve brings Eddie higher up to his chest so he can meet the eyes of the little guy.
Although his thinking or way of interpreting his surroundings may be a little different, Steve is always aware of the world as he would be as a human, and he can see that it’s the same for Eddie. The big wet eyes of his bat form aren’t that different from his human ones, Steve thinks, a little amused even while worried at how hard Eddie is panting.
“It’s okay,” Steve says, “You’re okay, you’re with friends, and this isn’t permanent. You’re just a bat for a little bit, Eddie, and you’ll be human in no time. Okay? You’re okay.” He keeps repeating reassuring nonsense, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around squirming wings and resting Eddie against his heart.
As a wolf, Steve likes to lay his head over Robin’s heart, likes the proof that she is alive and well under him, and often finds himself calming under her steady thump, thump, thump.
Under his fingers, he can feel the frantic thrumming of Eddie’s heart start to calm too.
“That’s good,” he croons softly, stroking his thumb over the soft down of Eddie’s head. He takes stock of the little body in front of him: over Eddie’s nose the bridge is one long stripe of white, the rest of him covered in a deep brown while the ruff of his neck is almost golden, his ears are tapered as is the long tip of his pink tongue.
They all watch while Steve successfully calms Eddie as if he is a baby cradled to him. “Do you think that’s a were thing?” Asks Lucas, peering at Eddie as his breathing slows down, he blinks back up at him.
“I don’t know,” Will says thoughtfully, “Steve is pretty soothing to have around.” El nods while Mike shoots his friend a look of betrayal.
Steve rolls his eyes, “He was just scared. Look, now he’s had a moment to chill he’s with us again.” And, sure enough, little Eddie’s eyes are drooping as Steve continues to lightly pat him, clearly relaxing into the comforting gesture. He loosens his hold, still keeping a firm grip but not so tightly in fear of Eddie struggling again.
Max snorts as she peers down, “Oh yeah, there’s the big bad metalhead everyone fears.”
Eddie’s closing eyes snap open with a glare and he squeaks at her. Unfortunately, Steve thinks, the cuteness of it all only supports Max’s teasing. Robin meets his eyes over the kids’ heads and silently laughs in agreement.
“Okay,” Steve orders, “I think the lot of us in the same room may be too much for him right now. You guys skedaddle and we’ll let you know when he’s back to rights.”
Dustin looks doubtful, “What can you do that we can’t?”
Robin snorts, “Uh, Dusty-bun, Steve is literally the expert in this room when it comes to were-changes. You can’t research your way out of this one.”
Dustin grumps, “I could. If we didn’t have Steve, I could absolutely be the one to help him get back to normal.” He turns to the backpack shoved against the table. “Here,” he says, pulling out two books with photos of bats across the covers. Steve peers further into the bag and can see back-ups that apparently didn’t pass muster. “These are the books I brought on bats. If he starts craving blood, let me know — I have more on vampires when he needs them.”
Max takes them from his hands while Lucas steers Dustin towards the front door, where they’d left their bikes outside. Mike mutters a mocking noise that sounds like skedaddle and, with that, the room falls silent once more.
Robin and Steve look over at Max as she falls back onto the couch with El quickly following behind. She stares back belligerently, “What? Mom dropped me off and Eddie was our ride back.” El crosses her arms with a serene smile.
Steve sighs, “Okay, but we’re not doing anything exciting and you guys are making dinner.” The girls readily agree, heating leftovers from Steve’s fridge and serving the four of them as they sit in the living room, eating while watching a Bewitched marathon. At Steve’s instruction, Robin had brought down his blue hoodie with its tunnel-like pocket over his belly.
Little Eddie had curled up inside of it and Steve keeps one hand over him to provide what he hopes feels like shelter and comfort; under it, he can feel the heat of his small body and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“You look like you’re pregnant,” Robin acerbically observes from the other end of the couch, feet crossed into her lap for the lotus position.
“Does that mean that I can finally eat butterscotch ice cream without you making that face?” He counters with a bitchy expression back.
“What face?” She protests even as she makes The Face. Max rises her brow to Steve, “Why does she look like that?”
“That summer at Scoops maybe put her off some flavours for life,” he shares. El ignores them all in favour of watching Samantha wiggling her nose to float Darrin out of a tree.
“If I have to smell USS Butterscotch one more time, I’m going to puke — lack of pregnancy be damned,” Robin warns.
The commercials blares once Samantha finishes rescuing her husband, and El moves to peek inside the hoodie, tentatively extending a finger and gasping when Eddie’s little bat foot comes out to grip it. “He feels so soft.”
Steve snickers at Robin and he thinks he feels what’s supposed to be a bat bite through the cotton in retaliation, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of sharp fangs behind it. He sobers for the younger members of the room, “Yeah, but he can’t stay this way forever. Can you sense anything from him, El?”
She closes her eyes while continuing to hold Eddie’s foot, “He is not upset like earlier, but I don’t think he is ready to come back to being human-Eddie yet either.”
Steve looks worriedly down at the bump over his stomach, “Is he okay? I ran around a lot at first too, but once I figured out what was happening I tried to turn human again as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, but you also didn’t know that it was possible to turn back to human,” Robin points out. “He could be chilling ‘cause he knows that everything is going to be okay.”
El hums, “No, I do not think that’s it.” She shrugs, gently untangling Eddie’s clawed toes to lean back into Max who shifts an arm and drapes it over El’s shoulders comfortingly. “But he is not willing to share either. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Robin reassures her as she peeks into the other end of the pocket, smirking as she waggles a playful finger at him. Steve can see the wide, wet eyes of Eddie peeking out at her in curiosity. “Maybe he knows that he’s cuter as a bat than as a stinky human boy.”
Eddie glares and snaps his small teeth in the air before sullenly turning, curling up and facing the other way. Once again, a small hidden lump in the hoodie. Steve sighs, “We’ll give him the night and, if he’s not back tomorrow, maybe you can look for him in the void, El? Ask him what’s going on or guide him back to being human again. Whatever it is that he needs since it’s not working for him right now.”
He glances at the stairs, “Do you guys want to stay over? You can sleep in one of the spare rooms?”
“I call third bedroom,” Robin calls, standing up decisively, “Second bedroom has a weird smell.” She points her finger at Steve’s opening mouth, “I don’t care if you can’t smell anything, which, weird. Since you’re the one with the super nose these days.”
She grimaces and says more quietly, “I don’t think I can bunk up tonight, all the screaming got me…” She waggles her hand around her ears and Steve nods, knowing that she needs some quiet time after a lot of stimulation.
Max smirks and takes El by the hand, “That’s cool, we can’t smell whatever weirdo smell your nose is picking up. Night guys.” The girls wave before heading upstairs and Steve shuts off the television.
Picking his way through the house he double checks that the windows and doors are locked before turning off the lights and heading to bed. Lying down, he snuggles little Eddie to him, the small body already curled on top of his chest and asleep.
If you enjoyed anything of this I hope you'll consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 - it would make my day! 💖🦇🐺💖
100 notes · View notes
frostaoftheday · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media
Today’s Frosta of the Day has been brought to you by: Pointing angrily at Scorpia.
33 notes · View notes
citruscore · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
playing with these guys' demon designs etc etc
Tumblr media Tumblr media
347 notes · View notes
eggbreadboi · 8 months
Text
Ok so I have this classic f1 wing au spinning in my brain like a microwave and i want to share
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I had so much fun reworking the entire concept of formula one to make a new sport that makes sense for wing people listen i went a bit crazy. Jet pack races. It’s jet pack races. Except they’re crazy high powered and the racers use their wings to steer, and the g forces are just as insane as they are in the cars, but more deadly since all that pressure is being put on bare, barely protected wing. The engineers are competing to make the smallest lightest jet pack and to push the fine controls, trying to get every advantage while limited by the racers soft and squishy nature when it comes to speed.
Tumblr media
It’s the 70s so of course safety precautions are kinda pathetic, but eventually the undergarments develop to protect the neck in case of whiplash and the jet packs themselves get emergency release capabilities. I haven’t thought through the mechanism for supporting the racers wing along the length to protect from tearing when a turn is entered at the wrong angle…
Hopefully I’ll figure that out. There’s more coming, cause a couple racers just Spoke to me in regards to getting matched with certain birds.
168 notes · View notes
aurorasandsad-prose · 5 months
Text
I just had one of the biggest 'OH!' moment about the Fourth Wing Series. And it's so subtle I couldn't have understood it when I read the first book. But now that I'm reading Iron Flame, I can see that it is just so well done!
For context, I came across this particular interaction between Violet and Xaden on my feed... and I will not be expanding on it because I don't want to spoil it so do with it what you will but god help me if that ain't perfect foreshadowing.
Xaden: You're General Sorrengail's youngest.
Violet: And you're Fen Riorson's son.
Xaden: Your mother captured ny father and oversaw his execution...
Violet: And your father killed my older brother... Seems like we're even.
Xaden: Hardly.
98 notes · View notes
saywhat-politics · 3 months
Text
From accusing Swift of witchcraft to calling her a “psyop” for the Democrats, right-wing media need to calm down
Right-wing media spent 2023 lobbing sexist attacks at pop star Taylor Swift. According to them, Time magazine’s 2023 Person of the Year is a fake Christian, a Democratic agent, and possibly a witch. She’s also ruining football by dating an NFL player.
Tumblr media
55 notes · View notes
allthetorturedpoets · 8 months
Text
oh to be a young popstar that has been taken under taylor swift’s wing
88 notes · View notes