#❐ : ❛❛ ​🇸​​🇪​​🇲​​🇧​​🇱​​🇦​​🇳​​🇨​​🇪​ » amaya cross.

[godfrey-hath-forsaken-thee]

y'know you'd THINK Samantha or Fiona bc they kick ass at business but you would be wrong

Fiona likes to think she's a master manipulator but nah

Samantha is clever enough to but is also a godawful liar

Frederick is too pure but unintentionally gives off camp theatre villain vibes at times

AMAYA though? Let's just say she is nicer than she ought to be sometimes, and if someone crosses her then good fucking luck

which oc is a master manipulator?

[fizzytoo]

more fun before it’s time to go back home :(

[hexblooddruid]

Praise the Creators i finally got the DLCs to show up again for Origins

[thatpunkmaximoff]

[Book Five of..]

Story: 5 out of 5 Smut: 2.5 out of 5

Wow. This priest/stripper story is the best I’ve ever read. And that’s something I never thought I’d say lol.

The forbidden aspect between these two, and the angst and drama will definitely keep you coming back for more.

Amaya’s definitely had a hard life, all thanks to her jealous mother that abandons them. She ends up having to pay her mother’s debt to Parker… and let’s just say that you’re gonna wish a thousand bad things to happen to Parker and her mother. Serious bad things.

And then there’s Father Cade who’s not quite the normal priest. Seriously, his darkness is off the charts, but he’s someone you’ll be pulling for no matter what.

I did not see how this was going to have a happy ending, but leave it to Emily McIntire to figure it out. Though I was nervous about how this could possibly end on a good note, I couldn’t be happier about how all the loose ends were tied up.

* Damn. We kick off the book with Father Cade murdering someone. I like this man already 😂

* Amaya’s mom Chantelle is a total bitch for ditching the way she did. And the mom’s bf Parker would sell her? But since she dipped, Amaya has to take her place? wtf! I hope Cade kills him.

* Deh. Pissing contest between Father Cade and Parker. I love it. Put his little bitch ass where he belongs.

* Fuck. Parker raped Amaya? Oh hell no. Cade really does need to kill him.

* Damn. Father Cade is super horny for Amaya, but he thinks her a demon and it’s his job to snuff out demons 😬

* I fucking loathe Parker.

* Oh fuck. Sister Genevieve is Amaya’s mother, isn’t she? Bitch is hiding out as a nun.

* Wow. Chantelle (Amaya’s mom) and Florence (Parker’s side piece) are fucking cunts. They rather hate Amaya for his fixation on her rather than hate the man who’s stringing them along 🤦🏻‍♀️ And then Chantelle fled in the middle of the night? What a bitch. I hope Amaya finds her and makes her pay for all the shit she’s been put through.

* Father Cade sticking up for Quinten (Amaya’s little brother) makes me so happy. Now Cade just needs to get over the obsession of wanting to kill Amaya 😂

* “Leave it to me to finally have sexual attraction to a man who’s so off limits, he’s a one way ticket to hell.”

* Damn. Cade killed the guy who tried assaulting Amaya in the alley. That’s my priest! Lol.

* Wow. Father Cade finger fucked Amaya and then told her she’s worse than a whore. Why does that hurt me so much?

* Aw fuck. She went to Parker for help. This is going to end so badly.

* Damnnn. Father Cade is not impressed that Amaya is marrying Parker. KILL HIM!!!

* So Cade has finally realized he doesn’t wanna kill Amaya. Good. Now he’s gotta make her the perfect little catholic wife. Pft. Good luck with that.

* Oohhh. Cade is piecing together why Amaya is suddenly dating Parker. And that she went to him first, only for him to turn her away.

* Damn. He killed another man to give Amaya an alibi. That’s my guy right there lol.

* “You consume me, Amaya. Break apart my faith with the fire of a thousand suns and dominate every nightmare until all I dream is you. You think you’re obsessed, petite pécheresse? You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

* Oh shit. He fucked her. He finally did it. Now murder Parker and Amaya’s mom who I know is that fucking nun in the mountains.

* I fucking hate Parker with a passion.

* Fuck yes! She beat the fuck out of that jealous slut Florence! Possibly killed her too 😂

* Oh. Oh no. He’s taking her to the mountain. She’s gonna see her mom 👀

* AND NOW HE’S LEFT HER ALONE WITH THE “SISTER”. Fuck, dude, IT’S HER MOM!

* Oh no. He fucking assaulted and killed Amaya’s best friend 😔 He fucking has the little brother Quinten!

* Holy fuck. Cade really did a number on Parker 😬

* lol. Bye-bye, mother dearest. Knew she wasn’t gonna last long. Dumb bitch.

* Ahahahaha. He blackmailed Florence into pinning it all on Parker!

* Holy shit. He didn’t make Amaya sign a pre-nup so now everything is hers!

[grimcovesarchive]

❝   why   do   you   keep   doing   this   ?   treating   me   like   shit,   ignoring   me.   did   i   do   something   to   upset   you   ?!   ❞

closed starter delivered to @gorgcous

made with beta

[songofdefiance]

okay so i got curious and looked on Google about this, found out that apparently the way i take off shirts is. really weird?

so I'm curious if the 'common' way is the way y'all actually do it or not

[grimcoves]

tag dump #5

[nerd-with-a-cause]

Rewatching Amaya scenes from Season 1 and do you know what the first word she signs is? Right in her introductory scene?

[Image description: Callum, Ezran, Bait, Gren and Amaya from The Dragon Prince. Amaya is kneeling in front of Callum and Ezran. Her hands are crossed over her chest.]

It's "love."

Gren translates this as "I'm so happy you're safe," which is a perfectly correct gloss, but a more literal translation would be something like, "I love that you're safe."

And I'm having so many emotions over the fact that the very first thing we as the audience see Amaya sign is "love" because that is such a big motivation for her. Love for her sister, love for Callum and Ezran, love for Janai. Underneath the sarcasm and anger and punching, it's all about love.

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

BIG ASS TAGLIST LOOOOOL LOVE YALL: @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane@muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf@fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko@333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu @randomhoex @sunnmoon @elliesaesp @callmewhenyoukan @rubycruzsbitch @deathby1000sluts @skylerwhitwyo

[zuppizup]

“Come on!” Soren sighed dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve both been sitting on your butts since we got here. It’s time for some activity.”

“We came here to relax, Soren,” Callum sighed, not so much as looking up from his book.

“Rayla, come on. Aren’t you bored?” Soren turned his attention away from Callum, clearly seeing him as a lost cause.

“I'm on vacation.” She muttered into her hot chocolate as she snuggled closer to Callum.

“Guys, the pride of Katolis is at stake here.” Soren changed tactics, his voice no longer commanding and decidedly more pleading. “You know how good Amaya is at snowball fights and now she’s got Janai to back her up. And Gren is surprisingly ruthless.”

“It’s three against three,” Rayla rolled her eyes. “Ez has really good aim.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about.” Soren sighed dramatically. “Corvus barely counts-”

“Hey!” Corvus finally spoke up, stepping forward to get Soren’s attention.

“Oh come on, you know it’s true. You hate snow.”

“Yeah, but I can deal with it for the snowball fight.”

“You didn’t last year.”

“I didn’t realise everyone took this thing so seriously last year-”

“Not everyone takes it seriously, do they?” Soren turned away from Corvus to stare pointedly at Callum and Rayla.

“They do not.” Callum once again refused to look up from his book.

Sighing, Soren seemed to concede defeat, turning and stomping away. “Come on. We need to discuss tactics if it’s going to be me against Amaya, Janai and Gren.”

“Congratulate Team Sunfire for us!” Rayla teased, putting her hot chocolate down before leaning into Callum’s side.

Callum snorted, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “We can go, if you want to.”

“What’s the point? Who’s going to win against a sky mage?” She pulled a book from under the blanket and began to leaf through the pages.

“Uh huh, that’s why you’re not interested... the lack of competition.” He laughed as she snuggled in closer to him. “And not the fact Captain Grainne’s ship had begun to take on water at the end of your last chapter?”

“She can’t swim, Callum!” Rayla didn’t even look up from the page.

“What sort of pirate can’t swim?”

“I told you, it a plot twist!”

“Well, hurry up and finish so I can find out!”

“I’m trying, mister mage.” She smiled primly at him, bopping his nose. “Why do you think I said no to a snowball fight?”

- Fluffy Rayllum prompts to cheer me up

Banther Lodge snuggles/cosy blanket/book dates suggested by @leftboob, @thedizzydinosaur and @temerity14

[sunfire-shield]

Arc two has been kinda hilarious for Amaya’s relationship to her nephews because it’s literally “they’re my heart and soul blood of my blood I will cross countries and I will kill anything that even thinks of harming them. am I inviting them to my wedding? ehhh” like Amaya is suddenly queen of being that one aunt that loves you dearly and will give the shovel talk to anyone who looks romance at you for even a second but you have absolutely zero clue what she does in her free time or personal life because she spends every moment of family meets telling you how much you’ve grown and not even mentioning that her wife proposed to her last week and this week her brother in law tried to assassinate her wife to be and next week they’re having an elaborate royal wedding

[theredhairedmonkey]

Following up on the parallels between Viren and Claudia, here are some parallels between Callum and Amaya,

In short, it is not just about the punching, I am sorry to report lol.

In fact, it gets to the crux of the issue Callum is facing. Callum is very much like his aunt ("jump headfirst into danger"), but the issue is that while this is an act of bravery for a warrior like Amaya, for a mage it's an act of sheer recklessness that puts him in risky situations where he is more likely to use dark magic.

You see, as a primal mage, Callum can't be rushing in like he does in 2x07 or in 5x08. He has to be more patient and careful. The issue is that Callum isn't that kind of person. That's the occupational hazard that is unique to him, the kind that puts him in situations where he is more likely to cross a line.

His issue isn't being too different from his aunt, but being too similar.

[wholoveseggs]

Luv my birthday is on the 24th of this month I was wondering if you could make something for Elijah as a birthday special. 🥰

What did you wish for?

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

♡♡ Happy Birthday Amaya ♡♡

On your birthday, Elijah and Rebekah find themselves at odds when it comes to organizing the party.

2k words - Warnings: pure fluff & a little smut.

Rebekah was at her best when she was party planning; there was something about it that lit a spark in her. She was absolutely in her element. From the food to the décor, and especially the guests, she wanted everything to be perfect. This party was special; it was the first birthday of yours she was able to be a part of, and she was beyond excited. Rebekah was going to make sure it was nothing short of spectacular.

The only problem was there was another person who wanted to plan it as well: Elijah. In the thousand years they spent as brother and sister, they rarely clashed, and even then, the issue was resolved with ease. So the fact that she was currently at odds with him regarding your birthday celebration was completely baffling. She loved him dearly; she was proud to call him her big brother, but right now, she was seriously contemplating daggering him, just for a day or two.

"We need to discuss wine options," he said, entering the room, a stack of papers in his hand. "Perhaps we should have a selection of reds and whites?"

"You're joking, right?" She rolled her eyes, turning back to her work. "I already took care of the drinks. I thought we discussed this; we agreed to let me handle the menu, remember?"

"No, I don't think we did," he sat down across from her. "I recall telling you I would handle the beverages and you, the guests"

"I've already ordered it! If we change anything now, everything will be ruined."

"I see," he crossed his legs, resting his hands atop them. "Perhaps I should make a list of the other decisions you made without my consent. We could start with the decorations, which are hideous, by the way."

She scoffed. "What's wrong with them? They're perfect."

"Perfectly atrocious," he countered.

You were trying your best to stay out of it, knowing it was unwise to come between two originals in a fight, even if you were the subject of it. But the more they argued, the more worried you became. They had been at it for days now, and it didn't seem to be slowing down. It was almost amusing how petty the argument was.

They were both trying to do something nice for you, and it was touching, to know they cared so much. But the more time they wasted arguing, the less time they would have to finish their preparations. And if things didn't get resolved soon, there wouldn't be a party. And that would be a tragedy. You were so looking forward to celebrating your birthday with the two of them.

"Elijah, I'm sorry, but if you don't stop insulting the decorations, I'm going to throw you into a wall. I've worked really hard on these, and I won't have you tearing them down," Rebekah scoffed.

"Fine," he shrugged. "If you want the party to look like a gaudy mess, that's up to you."

"Will you two please stop!" you cut in, unable to take any more. You walked over to Elijah, wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiled softly, kissing you lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you," Rebekah grumbled. "I'm not used to being outshone." She smiled sweetly. "I just want to do something special for my best friend, is that so bad?" she asked him.

Elijah looked up at you, placing his hand over yours, "everything is fine my love, my sister and I will come to an agreement. Isn't that right, Rebekah?" He turned to her.

"We will?" She asked, her tone dripping with annoyance.

"We will," he shot back.

"Okay," you shook your head. "Well, thank you both, for putting this together."

"Don't worry about it, darling. Go get ready for the evening," he responded, pulling back. "Rebekah and I will handle the rest."

You headed off, leaving the siblings to their squabble, praying it would be settled before the party. You'd never been to an original family function, let alone one in your honor, and while the thought was a little terrifying, you were excited.

It had taken most of the afternoon, but Rebekah and Elijah had managed to pull it off. The house looked beautiful, a myriad of colors, and scents wafted through the air.

Elijah had insisted on adding extra lights to all the ivy draped along the walls and ceilings. Rebekah had picked out some incredible food and drinks, long banquet tables filled with dishes from all around the world. She'd even managed to procure a few bottles of wine that Elijah had insisted on.

All in all, it was perfect; you were in awe. As you wandered the halls, admiring the decor and chatting with the guests, a feeling of peace and happiness washed over you.

This was what family was supposed to be. People who cared about you and would go out of their way to do something nice for you, even if they didn't always see eye to eye.

Rebekah came by, fiddling with your outfit and hair, making sure everything was just so.

"Rebekah, really, everything looks wonderful," you insisted, watching as she straightened your dress, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," she said, giving you a warm smile. "But, it's not done yet."

"Oh?"

"Come," she grabbed your hand, leading you into the ballroom, where a huge cake stood in the middle. It was covered in delicate icing flowers and dozens of lit candles.

"Happy Birthday!" Elijah shouted, standing next to the cake.

You couldn't believe they had done all of this, and so quickly. You'd never had a proper birthday party before, and here they were, throwing you one, without even being asked. It was the best gift you'd ever gotten.

"Make a wish!" Rebekah exclaimed, motioning towards the cake.

You closed your eyes, blowing out the candles, the smell of smoke filling the air. Elijah wrapped his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

"Happy Birthday, love," he whispered, pulling you close. "What did you wish for?"

"Something I already have," you replied, gazing into his eyes.

He gave you a knowing smile, his dark eyes sparkling. "What's that?"

You turned, looking around the room, seeing the smiling faces of the people you loved most. The people who would go to the ends of the Earth for you, who had become your family.

"My family," you grinned, looking up at him. "And I couldn't be happier."

He kissed the top of your head, holding you close, as the others came over, wishing you a happy birthday.

After having your fill of all the delicious food and desserts, Elijah led you to the dance floor, taking you in his arms and swaying gently to the music.

"This has been the best birthday ever," you sighed, leaning into him.

"I think it would have been better if Rebekah hadn't gone with the garish decorations," he replied, his eyes drifting around the room, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Elija-," you were cut off by a soft kiss, his lips brushing against yours.

"I'm kidding, love," he said, pulling away. He wasn't.

You chuckled, shaking your head, and looking out across the room.

The party had been going on for a few hours, and you could tell everyone was starting to wind down. You spotted Rebekah chatting with Marcel, their heads close together as they laughed.

You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you, as you watched the people you cared about the most, enjoying themselves. You never would have imagined your birthday could have turned out this way, and the fact that it did, made your heart swell.

"Come," Elijah said, his arm wrapping around your waist, as he led you out of the room. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" You asked, grinning at him.

"Yes, but we need to go somewhere private for this one," he replied, his voice lowering.

"Ok," you said, a feeling of excitement washing over you.

He led you up the stairs, stopping outside of his room, and opening the door, gesturing for you to go inside.

As you stepped into the room, your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widened. The room was filled with carnations, every surface covered in beautiful blooms.

"Elijah," you gasped, reaching out and running your fingers along the delicate petals.

"Do you like it?" He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I love it," you turned around, placing a soft kiss against his lips. "How did you know I love carnations?"

"I have my ways," he smirked.

"Thank you, for all of this. It's perfect," you said, a warm feeling settling in your chest.

"There is one more thing," he replied, stepping away and heading towards the door.

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you, but I can show you," he grinned, closing and locking the door behind him.

Your cheeks flushed, and you felt a tingle of excitement run down your spine, as he began removing his clothes, tossing them aside.

"Elijah," you giggled, watching him strip, until he was standing before you, wearing nothing but a smile.

"Happy Birthday, my love," he said, pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply.

His hands trailed along your body, sending sparks of pleasure through you, as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin.

"You're so beautiful." He murmured, his hands finding the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down.

The fabric fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes darkened, roaming over your body, before he pulled you into another kiss, his hands sliding down your sides.

He led you over to the bed, laying you down gently, and removing the last of your clothing, his fingers caressing your bare skin.

His tongue traced your breasts, trailing down to your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached down, his fingers dancing across your thighs, causing you to let out a soft sigh in anticipation. His lips brushed against yours, his breath hot on your skin, as his hands continued exploring your body, every touch lighting you on fire.

"What does my birthday girl desire? Hmm?" He murmured, his hand moving between your legs, brushing against your clit.

"You," you moaned, arching into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders. "Please."

He grinned, slipping a finger inside you, earning another moan from you, and a wicked look flashed in his eyes.

"You like that?" He purred, curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

"Yes," you cried, your hips bucking against him, as your body began to tense.

He added a second finger, pumping them slowly, his thumb circling your clit, as he brought you closer to the edge.

You moaned, digging your nails into his back, as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your walls clenching around his fingers.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against yours, as he pulled you against his chest, your legs wrapped tightly around him.

"Feeling good, my love?" He murmured, his cock grazing your entrance.

"Yes," you breathed, biting down on his shoulder, as he entered you slowly, his hips moving at a leisurely pace.

He peppered kisses along your neck and jaw, his lips brushing against yours with each thrust, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

You could feel the pressure building again, the knot of pleasure winding tighter, your release just out of reach.

"No, no, not yet," he chuckled, sliding out of you, and leaving you feeling empty. He grabbed your thighs, spreading you open, and lowering his head, his mouth finding your clit.

He gently sucked on the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling around it, sending a rush of heat through you. Your hips rolled against him, as the pressure coiled, your thighs tightening around his head as you tumbled over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing over you, his name falling from your lips.

"Such a good birthday girl." He whispered, kissing the inside of your thighs, his fingers trailing along your skin.

He sat up, pulling you into his lap, and bringing you into a passionate kiss, your tongues tangling together. He lowered you down back onto his cock, you wrapped your arms around his neck, riding him slow and deep. He grasped at your hips, lifting you up and bringing you back down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming out in short pants.

You bounced faster, your chest flush against his, his hands tangling in your hair, as your lips found his, swallowing his groans and moans. His fingers tightened, pressing into your flesh, as you both neared the edge, the heat building between you, your bodies slick with sweat.

"I'm gonna-" you gasped, his hips thrusting up hard, his cock brushing against your g-spot with each movement.

"Me too." He growled, sucking on your neck, his pace quickening.

You clenched around him, the pressure snapping, your orgasm rushing through you, his own release following.

Your bodies trembled, his hips rolling, helping you ride out your high, until you fell back on the bed, exhausted and sated. He pulled you into his arms, your chest rising and falling, a content smile on your lips, as he kissed your shoulder.

"Was it everything you hoped for?" He asked, chuckling, his eyes glowing.

"Better." You replied, nestling into him, the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep.

As your eyes fluttered shut, you took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers around you, and the man in your arms, humming softly.

You had never felt happier or more loved, and it was all because of him.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vervain3 ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡

I tried to tag you but I don't think it worked list:

♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡

{please let me know if these tags worked, its my first time using them - xo)

[queenofsquids]

Worked like mad over the last few days, on altering this Lalaloopsy Jewel Sparkles styling head into an orange yarn haired doll hybrid. I used a Rainbow High Amaya Fashion Friend body (I genuinely don't know how I ended up with so many of these bodies; I only remember buying like two lol)

I started over on the hair paint match and left out the satin stuff, but the color was still very difficult to nail down. I left it at "good enough." In some lights it's great, in others it's not. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I tried to sink her head a little further down onto the neck than the previous two girls. I found them a little too long-necked over time, though tolerable.

The yarn is nice to style. Better than the original plastic strips anyway 😅 I anchored the yarn bunches in with zip ties.

There is an official Lalaloopsy with blue eyes and they paint the thread cross in the middle darker so I gave that a try. But I might go back to black eyes on her because the blue + black looks a little stare-y. It's sorta growing on me but not convinced.

Couldn't get her beauty mark off with rubbing alcohol, haven't tried acetone yet.

[grimcovesarchive]

❝ love isn’t just missing me. you don’t love me if you aren’t willing to put in the work. ❞

setting : the back row of an empty movie theater .

closed starter delivered to @luhstories

[baatarthefirst]

Viren Was Right. There, I said it.

Now Don't Get Me Wrong...

when it comes to 'who started it?', the humans of TDP are responsible for their fair share of troublemaking.

But I don't think Xadia gets it's fair share of the blame. Let's look at Avizandum.

Apparently, while we only see humans doing something stupid and Xadia retaliating; the Dragon King would pick fights then squash the humans he provoked. The fact glossed over because our boy Zym was sad that his dad's being disrespected. But is it a wonder that some humans feel like they always have a knife to their throat?

Now, personally, I don't like Viren. The guy was manipulative and foolish and just rubbed me the wrong way; and still did up until his death (It was a good death, I'll admit it). But, Viren wasn't completely wrong with his constant spewing about "the threat to humanity".

'But that doesn't count, the humans started it'...yes, and no. See the humans did kill King Avizandum and 'destroyed' his egg. Okay. The Dragon Queen got revenge by ordering a hit on King Harrow and his son. Dept paid, but Janai's forces have had to been gathering since before the assassination. Why? Because getting 'justice' wasn't enough.

The dragons are crossing the border, scaring humans who are just going about their lives in peace. Soren gets the blame for the town being set ablaze, and he should. Corvus warned him not to start he can't finish but why was Pyrrah intimating them? Why is it okay for Pyrrah to just fly around intimating innocent people? Seems like she's picking a fight. Soren gets the blame for starting the whole mess, but he should really get blame for taking some pretty obvious bait.

Then we have these elves attacking Amaya unprovoked. This wasn't retaliation for the outpost on the Xadian side of the border, it hadn't even been discovered and sacked yet.

Little side tangent, why does Amaya get grief for killing Janai's soldiers, when Janai doesn't catch flack for killing Amaya's?

The soldiers didn't abandon the outpost, they were attacked. And they're nowhere to be found. It's not hard to figure out what happened to them.

Now back to why Viren was right in his reasoning, if not his planning. When given the option, why did Janai try to stop Amaya's plan to blow up the Breach?

If she was just protecting their borders, then Janai should have lit the charges herself, as that would cut off the armies best/only known route to Xadia.

Xadia wanted a war. Xadia was starting a war, even though most of the humans wanted no part in it, and Viren was right to be afraid. He's stupid in his actions (we know where Soren got it from) but the signs were there.