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Following Abaddon's fall, Uriel is caught in a tempest of grief that relentlessly tears at her heart. Her love for him is tainted by his unforgivable deceit. Uriel distances herself from her angelic brethren, drowning herself in her duties with a fervour bordering on self-destruction.
One tranquil day, you approach her.
Your hand reaches out to softly touch her cheek, paired with a gentle smile.
Uriel remains stoic, her facade firmly in place. After a pregnant pause, she lifts her hand to cover yours.
She is not yet ready to share how your simple gesture saved her from a certain fate.
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Recently recovering from a flu and my poorly state wonders what the characters could say to such a situation. So here goes 🫣‍
Strife: "Caught a bug, did you? I'd joke about you dodging better, but I guess now's not the time."
Death: "Ah, laid low by something so mundane? I expected more from you. Well, get up soon. We've got worlds to traverse, after all."
War: "Seeing you like this is unsettling. I hadn’t anticipated such a challenge to your health. I will stand watch.”
Fury: "Careless! How could you let your guard down like this? You must recover, and swiftly. We rely on your strength – no more carelessness, understood?"  
Vulgrim: "A little ailment and you're already down? Consider this a prime opportunity for a... strategic retreat. There’s profit in health, after all."
Draven: "I told you to keep yourself covered, did I not? Your neglect has clearly taken its toll. Stop pouting and drink this herbal tea. I’m watching your every move, so take better precautions next time."
The Archon: "Your current state is a disappointment, a blemish on your record. Illness is no excuse for weakness. Overcome it, or be forever marked by this failure."
Nathaniel: "I must confess, your ailment is a mystery to me, as our kind seldom knows such weaknesses. Nevertheless, I stand with you in your time of need."
Abaddon: "This weakness displeases me. A warrior of your caliber succumbing to mere illness? Unacceptable. Steel yourself against this enemy as you would any other."
Azrael: "Looking at you now, one might think the end is near. Stay indoors, recover fully. I insist on it. Do not make light of this; your health is too important to risk."
Uriel: "This illness tests you, yet your resolve seems lacking. Sharpen your spirit as you would your blade. Anything less is unworthy of you."
Lilith: "There's a certain charm in watching you battle this... vulnerability. The strength you'll show in overcoming this will surely be a sight to behold, my dear."
Samael: "Stricken by mortal frailty, are we? How... human. It offers quite a peculiar spectacle, I must admit."
Wicked K: "Ah, what you need, my good fellow, is a proper English breakfast—nothing like eggs, beans, and of course, a cup of strong tea to set you right. It'll have you up and about quicker than you can say 'Bob's your uncle'!"
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Potential Project? 🤔
R-Right, this is most likely something I will most definitely, definitely regret posting once I am done, but I am so itching to write a story with Samael and Ulthane's pigeon match - with a similar vibe to my festive trash fic- 👉Thisonerighthere thisonerighthere 👈
*sighs* This won't end well. It shall be done, and I shall regret-
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Hey, that's yOuR/NaME!
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In the Garden of Eden, War trails behind you, maintaining a deliberate distance rather than walking at your side. It dawns on you that his distance is rooted in guilt—for the role he played in the destruction of humanity's haven.
You turn to face him. He halts.
With a bright smile, you exclaim, "Don't be a stranger."
War remains stoic, his noble face giving nothing away.
"In fact," your tone softens. "Never feel like a stranger."
No immediate reaction comes from the legendary Horseman; his demeanour unchanged. After a prolonged silence, War's eyes subtly narrow, and his gaze falls to the ground, but not before you catch the briefest shimmer of wetness beneath his hood.
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Imagine Uriel advancing towards you, her hard features set in a stern, battle-hardened expression. The tension rises as she stands before you, her gaze piercing. Your muscles bunch, anticipating a confrontation from the formidable angel.
Instead.
Uriel, leader the Hellguard, brings her armoured fist to her chest with a soft clang of metal against metal before she lowers herself onto one knee, her head bowed.
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The Makers React to Your Sorrow
Some quickies - I've already written Karn's earlier hee
Alya: She immediately sets up an impromptu training session. "Let's sweat out the sadness," she proclaims.
Ulthane: He crafts a melodious wind chime from rare metals. "Hang this near your window," he says gently. "Its song will remind you of the strength within you," believing in the power of sound to heal the heart.
Eideard: The elder senses your melancholy and invites you for a walk under the Tree of Life. With each step, he shares ancient wisdom about the cycles of life and renewal.
Muria: She concocts a special brew, the potion sparkles. "Drink this, child. Let it lift your spirits," she says, her eyes kind, reminding you that healing takes time and care.
Thane: Upon hearing of your sadness, Thane decides it's time for an adventure. "Pack your courage," he declares, leading you on a quest through the wilds. Each step away from your usual confines helps to distance your mind from its troubles.
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As soon as Karn hears of your sorrow, he doesn't hesitate; he charges through valleys and mountains, a one-man cavalry, ready to demolish your gloom with his booming laughter and an arsenal of terrible jokes.
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Imagine Samael and Ulthane forming a legendary bond over their favourite game - Whack a Pigeon - consisting of wooden angel figures, including one resembling Abaddon. With Samael's involvement, "Whack a Pigeon" is now infused with demonic energy, with onlookers testing their reactive skills by dodging embers and laughing off singed eyebrows. Ulthane, meanwhile, delightfully embraces the chaos, heartily slapping Samael on the back whilst occasionally fanning the flames out.
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Imagine Ulthane taking Karn under his wing for an afternoon of blacksmithing.
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Valus, who rarely shows emotion, finds a sense of peace in Alya's presence. Meanwhile, Alya's demeanour towards Valus radiates a tender warmth.
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❤️
For the first time, I sang in public. It was a special atmosphere and symbolic of my journey. To my dear friends and followers here, including those who are no longer active, you have a special place in my heart. Your support has been among the most meaningful gifts I've received and I'm deeply grateful to you all. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🩷🥺
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The Makers Headcanons
A/N: Um... my feeble attempt at exploring the Makers' culture...
The Dreamweaver Makers: They are part of a mystical sect, serving as guardians of the ethereal pathways that connect the world of the waking to the realm of dreams. These Makers excel in the art of creating enchanted textiles, garments, and weapons that are highly sought after across Creation, prized not just for their ability to shield and protect but also for their capacity to inspire profound dreams and visions. Beyond their craftsmanship, the Dreamweavers hold revered positions as seers and sages, possessing deep insights into the mysteries of the cosmos.
The Bard Makers: Their artistry in music and storytelling transcends mere performance - they are the voice of the Makers' soul. With instruments crafted from elemental ores and woods that resonate with the foundational tones of creation, the Bard Makers carry stories across the realms, ensuring the legacy of the Makers is never forgotten, even as worlds change and fade.
The Scribe Makers: They have a pivotal role of recording history, crafting laws and preserving the wisdom of their people. They work closely with figures like Eideard in documenting insights and oral histories passed down through generations. They are the weavers of history and the keepers of the Creation's deepest secrets. Their work align with the Bard Makers.
The Brewmaster Makers: They are celebrated for their mastery over the alchemical arts of brewing potent concoctions, their recipes protected secrets passed down through generations. Here, water, infused with the essence of the Forge Lands, melds with enchanted herbs, fermenting under carefully controlled spells to produce elixirs that can heal, invigorate, or protect, while a specially crafted mead could facilitate communion with the spiritual realms. The Brewmasters' role aids the Dreamweavers and Scribes in their work.
The Greenwarden Makers: They are vital to the ecological and spiritual health of the Forge Lands. Their sacred gardens do not simply serve as sources of medicinal herbs and plants used by the Brewmasters, but also serve as sacred connection to the natural world. The Greenwarden Makers work in harmony with the Dreamweaver Makers, making sure the Makers' deep bond with creation is continually nurtured.
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They have accepted their fates
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Imagine, beyond the anvil and the flame, the Maker Valus not only enjoys crafting mighty weapons, but he also finds pleasure in the delicate art of jewelry making.
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I'm solo glad you're back how have you been? I hope everything is good and well yeeeey my bestie is baaaaack
YOU'RE THE SWEETEST 🥺😭🩷
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