Pt.1 Of Headcanon Generator Giving My Ocs Headcanons

Feyre: So how do you know when your sister has arrived? She just pops up out of nowhere sometimes.

Cass:*Walks past covered in red glitter and grumbles* She's done it again call Amren before I take the glitter and shove it down her throat.

Rhys:*Sighs* That's how.

Narcissa(OC):*Walks in smiling shaking glitter off of her wings* Heyy guyss.

Cass:*Pounces for her*

Cass and Narcissa:*Rolling around on the ground a blur of wings, red glitter and weapons*

Narcissa: Fucking Illyrian babies! *bites Cass's ankle*

Feyre and Rhysand: *Walk away slowly*

plsss

✨reblog if you're accepting anonymous asks about anything✨

I seriously need some friends badly. Please message me if your 12-18 pleaseeeee. I'm in like so many fandoms we should have something in common anddd im a shifter. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🥺🥺

The Shadowsinger and The Mistress of Love and Lust

Mate.

I could feel the nightmare in me growl at the word but the dreamer in me smiled softly and shed tears of genuine happiness. I felt like I was drowning in an ocean of glass.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Then all I felt was pain.

My wings- the pain- my wings.

My wings are gone.

I wince. How can I feel pain in my wings? Suddenly I’m being swarmed by shadows-his shadows-Azriel! They circle me whispering softly, touching me lightly.

He needs you. He's in pain. Help him.

They call to me, the pain in m-his wings keeps growing stronger. I don't question how they found me or how they spoke to me, all I can think is save Az.

I vacate my post at the healing tent and leave my assistant Lily in charge. I set out to find Azr-my mate. I see my brother and Cassian, they both seem tense and it worries me. I have been cooped up in the healing tent and haven't heard about anything pertaining to the war other than healing the soldiers and warriors injuries. I walk towards the two illyrians trying to tap into the power to summon my wings.

Hot searing pain floods the bond and I drop to my knees unable to summon my wings or my battle fan. I sink lower as I feel the shooting pain in my ankle and the sharp stabbing pains still in m-his wings. I am going to murder whoever hurt Azriel- My Azriel.

Cassian rushes towards me spitting curses as he grabs my arm trying to help me up.  I give him a vulgar gesture and I call him things a High Lady shouldn’t even be able to think of. I yank my arm away and stand up slightly dizzy and nauseous. I catch myself on Cassian as I hear the faint sound of my brother laughing.

“Oh shut it Rhys” I say one hand on my hip the other leaning on Cass to stay balanced. “I was looking for Az but this fucking oaf got in the way,” I jab a finger in Cass’ chest. Cass looks at me with a snarl. I laugh as does Rhysand. “Well sister if your looking for him he should be flying back soon I have been awaiting his and Feyre’s return from rescuing Elain.” I smile knowing he should return, but then I remember the pain and the bond. “H-he's hurt brother like big time,” Rhys looks alarmed. “How do you know? And what happened” he asked, dragging me toward a group of chairs, Cassian following behind us.

"I felt it through our bond, a mating bond," I reply, wincing at the fresh wave of pain that surges through me. "His wings, they're damaged, and I think his ankle too. I need to find him, now."

Without waiting for their response, I push myself off the chair and start heading towards the direction the shadows came from. Every step feels like a dagger in my heart as I can sense Azriel's agony echoing down our bond. I almost stumble, but I steel myself and keep moving. I can't afford to falter now. My vision blurs, but I blink away the tears, focusing only on the path ahead./As I reach the spot where I had found the two stubborn Illyrians I see a shadowy figure in the distance. He drops quickly landing harshly groaning in pain. His wings, his glorious beautiful wings all torn and bloody filled with arrows I can only assume are ash arrows.

"Azriel," I call out, my voice breaking. I rush towards him, dread pooling in my stomach. He looks up, his eyes filled with pain but also relief at seeing me. I reach out to touch him but he winces, pulling away slightly. "I'm here, Az," I whisper, trying to assure him that he's safe now.

“Mate,” he growls at me in a sadder tone then his usual mocking raspy voice. “Yes, yes Mate, but for now lets get you healed alright?” He huffs which I can only assume is an answer to my question so I take it as one.

His eyes, usually so lively and watchful catching every slight move, are dulled by pain. Seeing him like this breaks my heart into a million pieces, but I swallow down the lump in my throat. I need to be strong for him.

Pt.2 link: https://www.tumblr.com/thatmadshifter11/748248818969198592/the-shadowsinger-and-the-mistress-of-love-and-lust?source=share

in another universe this in another universe that

i freaking want in this universe

A brilliant explanation of consent for anyone who STILL doesn’t get it. 

TW: sensitive topics

yk what’s the worst hitting a year since ur last suicide attempt and almost 3 months clean and having the worst relapse ever and having to pretend everything is alright because now ur the happy positive person and no one can know everything is bad again. So ur suffering in silence and someone will bring it up and suddenly ur in ur room after ur first attempt wondering what is actually wrong with you and why ur like that and why you can’t just be normal. And you know something is wrong with you but you’ve never been diagnosed with anything eating makes you nauseous ur panic attacks are getting worse you don’t believe you were made to fall in love or be loved and no one including yourself knows who you really are.

♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓

Satoru’s the type of boyfriend who takes your compliments as guidelines.

“Mm, you smell so good.” Now he’s wearing that same cologne every single day, buying extra bottles to stock up so he never runs out.

“I love your hair like that.” Now he wears it like that all the time. Messes it up a little bit on purpose because that’s how you like it.

“That color really suits you.” It’s the only color he wears from here on out.

“You look so handsome in that shirt.” After that, you have to tell him he can’t wear the same shirt every day.

“I love when you laugh like that.” Any other kind of laugh slips out of him, he’s pissed at himself. That was the wrong one.

“I like your other sunglasses better.” He does now, too. The first pair’s getting thrown in the garbage.

You can doll him up all you want. Anything for your affection, your attention, your admiration. He loves feeling loved by you. It’s a high he’s constantly chasing.

♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓 ♡ ‧₊˚ 𖦹 🍓

ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new 'gang' way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.