#Amira OW

[shwbyy]

“Humans hurt me too. I don’t need to be an omnic to know pain.”

I freaking suck at lighting and shading, but this was a fun challenge for me as an artist. 😭

Enjoy some Circe lore! Those nodes look unique, hmm….

Take a guess where this took place.

[yuukimiyas]

sweet chloe bunny! what is your fave restaurant to go to with reo and what do you two order?

yay!! a visit from my lovely amira!! ໒꒰ྀིㅅ´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ooo well reo & i both have a p eclectic palettes so we’ll p much try anywhere so its hard to pick a specific restaurant!! ૮꒰ྀི ´∩∩` ꒱ྀིა im a huge fan of thai food & i looove drunken noodles w chicken!! & reo usually gets yellow curry w beef!! :3 but reo also has v expensive taste so he offen likes places that serve filet mignon (ૢ`͈ᐜ `͈ૢ) & i get wagyu beef for sure!! eep!! this q was so cute!! as to be expected from the absolute cutest!! ily bby!! <33

[saenora]

its rafayel.

[madame-fear]

req: a reader who has dragon dreams sort of like helaena, and foresees what happens at storms end, so she begs lucerys not to go? or syraight up sneaks along with him?

*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐁 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐓 𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐑 (𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐨) .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks! : This was very entertaining to write my dear Nonnie, thank you very much for requesting it and I truly hope you enjoy it + it was what you expected !! 💕 — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 1.3k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x prophetic!reader — genre : slight angst, but turns into fluff. mentions of reader seeing Luke’s death at Storm’s End.

“Mother will be sending me to Storm’s End in the morrow.”

It was daunting, to remember his words as you spoke earlier during the day.

It was daunting enough for you to know, that Lucerys would be going to Storm’s End by himself while his brother Jacaerys was to be sent to Winterfell. You understood the implicances of the imminent war and the need for alliances between Houses, especially if Rhaenyra had to claim her birthright — but at the same time, something inside of you felt wrong at the thought of Lucerys going to seek alliance to House Baratheon.

A gut feeling, perhaps. And when it came to guiding yourself by your own intuition, you were never wrong. Most of the time, Rhaenyra often seeked your thoughts and intuition in certain cases, and whenever you spoke about the rights or wrongs of anything, it never failed in certainty.

But what was worse, was when you foresaw situations through your own dreams. Your breath hitched sharply, and the sound of your silk sheets being continously ruffled as you shifted ubcomfortably from one side and another invaded your chambers. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have those type of foreseeing dreams, and you dreaded it. Especially when it came to life-depending situations.

By the moment you abruptly woke up from your sleep, panting heavily and with your body drenched in your own sweat, the rowdy noise of the violent storm you had seen in your dreams remained disturbing you. You mentally could still hear the wicked, mocking laughter of Aemond Targaryen while riding Vhagar, haunting Luke as he chased after him, calling out for the young Velaryon and the “debt” he owed him — his eye.

The noise of the loud thunders cracking violently leisurely faded away as you had foreseen Luke getting away from Storm’s End in your dreams, seemingly missing Aemond out of sight as the bright skies were clear. But, suddenly, what jolted you awake trying to steady your gaspy breathing, was the sight of Vhagar harshly eating Luke as a whole, and ripping of Arrax from parts of his own body — falling into the vast sea above them.

Remembering the horrid sight, knowing deep inside of you that that was exactly what would happen to him if he travelled to Storm’s End, a lump was formed on your throat. Your lips quivered, trying to calm yourself down and fight back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes at any moment. Luke didn’t deserve such horrendous fate. It took you a few minutes until your quivering body recomposed itself, but without doubting it, you had to go tell Lucerys. You knew he would believe you in the blink of an eye.

In a hurried manner, your hand rapidly tossed the ruffled silk sheet barely covering your body, immediatly getting out of bed. Your delicate lips were partly opened, allowing soft pants to escape from them as your shaking body quickly guided your steps out of your chambers. As you got out, you shut the door behind of you quietly, surreptitiously sneaking into the halls.

Through the dimly lit halls, your feet felt as if they dragged themselves through the floor, with faint footsteps as you tried to reach Luke’s own chambers. With each quiet, sneaky step you made, you could feel a wave of corporal trembling — wobbling weakly from the fright and angst you felt at the sight of the dream. You fought hardly to hold back the tears to escape right there, and you could never want for Luke to see you in such dreadful state.

It felt an eternity to arrive to his quarters, and when you did, you wasted no time on knocking the doors; swinging open the wooden doors. Not only you hadn’t knocked because you didn’t wish to alert any passing guard, but as well because it felt like an important emergency to let him know of the dreams you had.

With his eyes fluttering open sleepily, Lucerys rapidly turned around; his brunette curly hair completely messy from having been suddenly woken up. The Velaryon Prince lazily rubbed his eyes swiftly, frowning his eyebrows in confusion. Closing the door behind of you sloppily, Luke began speaking, in a groggy, yet concerned tone. “(y/n)? Are you alright?–” you intrrupted him, crawling quickly on his bed to desperately approach him.

“Don’t go.”

“W-What?” he stuttered briefly, propping his body on the mattress by his elbows.

“I said don’t go.” you repeated slowly, breathing out some pants. The lump on your throat intensified, nearly choking you. “Don’t go to Storm’s End. Please.” those last words came as a plea, and maybe, they were.

Leisurely, his eyes blinked a few times until his sight properly adjusted to you, and his surroundings. His eyebrows remained furrowed, but his facial expression softened the moment he noticed tears beginning to gently roll through your soft skin, across your cheeks. Before he could mutter a words, a rather loud sob spurred from your lips, gazing down at the bed timidly.

“I saw you—” you paused, trying to catch your breath and stop yourself from tearing any further. His hand tenderly was placed on your arm, rubbing it. “I-I saw, in my dreams... Aemond chasing you,” the words struggled to come out. His green hazel eyes widened slightly at your dream, immediatly moving his hand gently to slip his fingers under your chin, trying to lift it to make eye contact with you.

“H-He was shouting after you, a-and...” you trailed off, feeling some more tears leaving their hot trails through your cheeks as you tried to catch some air. “A-And he... No, Vhagar, killed both Arrax and you. I-I saw it.” merely remembering the image and having to express it to Lucerys made your body feel weak. You nearly choked yourself with the lump formed on your throat.

His heart nearly dropped inside his chest, not managing to stutter a word out of his rosy lips to give you a proper response. All Luke felt able to do, was quickly wrap his arms firmly around your body as you collapsed in tears and sobs on top of him. “I-I don’t care if I have to convince you, or your mother, a thousand times–” you muttered in between sobs, desperately hugging him back. “— But I beg of you, Lucerys, please don’t go there. I can’t stand the thought of you being harmed in any way.”

Your nails scraped on his nightclothing, as if you felt the need of feeling him alive and well under your desperate clinging to his body. Lucerys, with his breath sharpened slightly at the thought of what you had foreseen in your dreams — knowing they always became true — embraced you tighter, pulling you closer to him as his hand moved up and down on your back; his caresses were an attempt to soothe you.

It felt as if his heart shattered at the mere sounds of your fervent sobbing, feeling your spilling tears leave wet spots on his nightwear. Your nose nuzzled his neck, inhaling his sweet vainilla scent, and hiding your crying face on the crook of his neck.

Luke returned the same affection for you, rocking your body slightly to the sides, seeking to comfort you as his eyes fluttered shut. You felt so comfortably warm, and Lucerys could never do anything that would possibly harm you both physically, and mentally. “I-I will not be going.” he responded, in a whisper. His nose nuzzled back your neck, moving his lips upwards to tenderly smooch the top of your head.

The mere thought of his uncle seeking revenge and chasing him down to the point Aemond managed to kill him, was frightening enough already. And of course, he could only imagine both the pain and fear you were going through when dreaming the situation, feeling every bit of the adrenaline.

“It’s alright, issa dōna riña.” he whispered back in between smooches, his hands continuing to sweetly stroke your back in a leisure manner; hearing your saddening sobs fade away at the comfort of his warmth, and his affection. Convincing his mother of not going to Storm’s End wouldn’t be a difficult task, now.

“I’m here for you now, and I’m not going anywhere else.”

♡ taglist : ♡

@jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @juliavilu1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[amirasainz]

hi!! i love this series sm and can u please write baby!sainz crushing on lando and carlos noticed it ++ lando and baby!sainz cute moments. thank you! have a good day 🫶🏻

Hey loves. I'm always so happy when I receive new requests. My requests are open and feedback is always welcome. Enjoy reading! -XoXo

Three times when...

The cooking fiasco

It was common knowledge in the Sainz household that Amira Sainz did not like cooking. In fact, it was a task she despised. When the Sainz children were younger, the chores were so divided that Amira never had to cook. She would go shopping for the ingredients or clean up the kitchen afterward. But she never lifted one pretty, manicured finger to prepare a meal.

So one could understand the shock when Carlos came down to the kitchen this morning and saw his baby sister cooking. And not just something easy like instant noodles—Senorita Sainz had prepared Croquetas de Jamón, a dish that required time and patience. Two things his little sister usually did not have.

However, Carlos had to admit they smelled amazing. When he tried to take a piece, his sister slapped his hand away. “Amira, what—” “Carlitos, they are not for hermano. It took me hours to prepare them, and I will not let you eat them all just because you’re hungry,” she informed her brother with a playful smile. “Come on, hermanita. Just one tiny piece. They look delicious.” She shook her head again, packed the Croquetas away, and told her brother they needed to leave.

The Sainz siblings, armed with their bags and a little plastic box filled with those delectable Croquetas de Jamón, entered the paddock. But it was Amira’s bold move that stole the show—skipping over to Lando and presenting him with her carefully prepared culinary masterpiece. Carlos, caught off guard, stood in the middle of the entrance, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

And then came Lando’s reaction: “Darling, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Amira blushed, and Carlos was left utterly dumbfounded.

Little did he know that his bewildered expression would soon become an internet sensation—a meme capturing the moment when Carlos’s brain seemingly took a vacation for a solid 40 minutes.

2. The hat

Oh, how he hated this hat. This stupid childish hat, that Lando wore for his first home GP. Carlos’s disdain for that neon green/yellow-ish hat was legendary, and it seemed to be etched into his very soul. But when he saw his sister, Amira, wearing the same hat, panic set in. His protective instincts kicked into high gear, and he bombarded her with questions: “Amira, what happened? Were you forced to wear this? Did Lando force you? Do you owe him money? Mi preciada hermana, you know I’ll lend you all the money I have. I will—”

And then, Amira’s interruption: “Don’t you think I look pretty?” Carlos was left speechless. Of course, she looked beautiful, but why this… thing on her head? Amira explained that it was Lando’s hat—the very same one he wore during his first home Grand Prix. She wanted to show her support for him, even though her loyalty to Carlos was unwavering.

Carlos grappled with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his sister’s gesture was sweet, even if the hat was an eyesore. On the other hand, why did it have to be that hat? His sister looked always lovely, but this neon monstrosity…

Before he could articulate his thoughts, Lando himself appeared. “Looking good, Mira,” he praised, and Amira blushed. Then, Lando turned to Carlos. “Hey, you good, man?”

And there it was—the unspoken tension between past teammates, siblings, and that ridiculous hat. Carlos managed a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, just… processing,” he mumbled. But deep down, he wondered if this whole situation would become another meme—one where Carlos stared into space, contemplating the mysteries of life, love, and questionable headwear.

3.The cut

It was racing weekend after a two week break. Carlos couldn’t help but tease Lando about that minuscule cut—the one that had everyone talking after his wild party weekend in the Netherlands.

“Cabrón, how did you even manage to cut yourself open? I mean, you were on a boat. A boat, Lando.” The banter flowed between them like old times, and Carlos secretly acknowledged that while Charles felt like a little brother, Lando was his true confidant. Amidst the tough competition at Ferrari, Lando was the one who knew all his inner struggles and insecurities—the person he could share everything with. Lando, who knew that Carlos didn't have any offers from other teams. Lando, who knew that the offer from Audi was taken back. He just couldn't tell Charles those things. Not because he couldn't trust him as well. But he always felt the need to protect the young Monegasque and didn't want to make him feel worse about his leave.

But then, the unexpected happened. Carlos’s attention shifted from Lando’s escapades to a quick blur of pink. The exact shade his sister had worn just days ago. And there they were: Amira and Lando, arms around each other. Concern etched on her face, she asked Lando if he was feeling alright, if she could do anything for him. His response—teasing yet sincere—sent a shiver down Carlos’s spine. Those stars in Lando’s eyes, the whispered words in Spanish from her: “Oh Lando, estoy tan feliz de que estés bien”, Lando rubbing her back for comfort.

Those two friends, caught in a moment that felt both intimate and confusing. Carlos’s mind raced. Did his sister have a crush on Lando? It couldn’t be, right?

Or could it?

[underdark-dreams]

Fellow Rolan lovers forgive me 👀 I have no idea where this came from. I just encountered Harper Geraldus in Act 3 again in my playthrough last night, and my brain said, that boy needs to get [redacted]

Harper Geraldus x afab!OC (unnamed, description kept vague)

Wet Behind the Ears

"What would you like, Geraldus? You can tell me." Harper Geraldus has had a very bad, terrible, absolutely no-good week. His superiors decide he needs a night at the Sharess's Caress to cure what ails him.

Tags: Size Kink, Sexual Inexperience, Face Sitting, Explicit | afab!OC

Word Count: 5.6k [Read on AO3]

No sooner had she stepped from the bathwater did the door to her chambers swing open.

“Hope you’re not headed to bed,” called a sing-song voice.

She wrapped a towel around her wet middle just as Irenya flounced brazenly past the wooden screen beside her bath. Privacy was a rare luxury in Sharess’s Caress, but her workday was well over—she’d earned the right to a bit of it.

“Do come in,” she drawled. 

The elf only gave her a coy smile as she toyed with the laces of her tiny bodice. Even for a courtesan, Irenya wore as little as she could get away with. And the bar downstairs owed her half its profits for it.

“Good, you’re up. Mamzell’s got another client for you.”

“At this hour?” A bit of impatience crept into her voice; it was far past midnight. Whoever they were, they’d better be paying well. “Don’t suppose they’d prefer one of our lovely drow.”  

“You know that’s not how this works,” Irenya laughed, a tinkling sound. “Mamzell handpicked you. Said you’ll be his type.” 

That meant he was either quite green, or quite reserved—she knew her niche well. She busied herself with toweling off and wondered which. “Patriar?”

“Harper,” answered Irenya.

That did stir a mild curiosity. Harpers were even rarer than Guild members on the upper floors of this place, and that was saying something. Folk who dealt in secrecy and under-dealings were strongly discouraged from visiting pleasure houses—though she knew from personal experience that they didn’t always listen to orders. 

And why should they? Sharess’s Caress kept secrets better than any of them put together. But unlike the Guild or the Zhent, most Harpers weren’t known to have pockets deep enough for after-hours trysts. 

“If this is another favor for Entharl Danthelon,” she warned, cinching a gauze robe around her waist. “I swear, Amira turns into a giggling maid around that bloke. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added swiftly.

Thankfully, Irenya didn’t seem to hear. She took an eager step closer. “Just wait till you see, you might have fun with this one. He’s so pretty,” Irenya groaned, biting her lip in the way that earned all that coin.

Pretty or not, her body yearned only for her empty bed. But telling Irenya that would ensure it got back to Mamzell Amira, and the house mother’s patience had its limits. She put on a practiced smile instead.

“Then kindly shoo,” she told Irenya. “And send the pretty man up.”

As the door swung shut behind the elf—who was no doubt headed for a good night’s sleep, unlike herself—she heaved a sigh and moved to prepare her room for clientele. A second goblet on the tray; a pass over the covers and pillows to ensure they looked fresh and unslept in. She shook her hair down from its clasp, glancing in the mirror by the bath to smooth it. Then she perched herself on the edge of the mattress and arranged her robe to show a sliver of leg. Just enough to catch the eye. 

If this Harper was openly visiting the Caress, he must have done something very impressive worth rewarding. Or else survived something awful enough to warrant a professional distraction.

Gods, let it not be the latter. She’d comforted her share of men and women who only wanted to be held while they cried, but tonight, the prospect made her groan. A tumble in the sheets would be far less work on her part, and the customer usually left just as satisfied in the end.

A soft tap at the door broke her reverie. 

Her brow furrowed for a moment—knocks were rare. “Come in,” she called.

When the youth stepped slowly into her room, it was immediately apparent why he hadn’t just opened the door like any other patron would.

Irenya hadn’t lied—he was certainly pretty. But gods, he was young. Couldn’t be older than twenty or so, with an angular jaw and wide hazel eyes framed by long, dark lashes the same color as the hair curling just past his shoulders. He had the look of a fawn who’d just stumbled into the middle of civilization.

She watched his large eyes quickly take in the room. When they fell on her where she sat, the blush that traveled up his face was noticeable even in candlelight.

Her mind switched tack at once. She rose to her bare feet, wearing her friendliest and least wanton smile. 

“Please,” she invited, drawing an arm out to welcome him in. 

His eyes flicked down her figure once, then settled firmly up on her face. “Thank you,” he managed, and strode briskly into the room as if afraid she might rescind the offer. 

It took only a few seconds to size him up. His leather jerkin was well-worn but clean, same as his boots. He was tall and fit, yet he moved with more of a cautious ranger’s gait than that of a soldier or swordsman. Perhaps that was just down to nerves. As she watched him close the door, she noticed his pale fingers fidget and shake on the latch slightly.  

Few of his age and apparent rank could afford this place, particularly by special appointment. Someone must be very fond of this young man.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she told him, filling the inevitable silence before it could form. “Would you like a drink? I’ve got something excellent from Amn.”

She turned away to uncork the bottle and give him a chance to look around. In truth, this was a vintage she’d been saving for a quiet moment alone tonight—but it would taste just as fine with company. As she filled both cups, she could hear him shifting on his feet behind her.

“Thank you,” he repeated again as she turned back. His voice was a gentle tenor, and there was a nervous tremble on the first word. 

“So.” She offered the wine out to him—he was careful not to touch her fingers as he accepted it. “What shall I call you?”

“Geraldus,” he blurted out. Clearly not taking up her veiled offer to give a pseudonym. When his doelike eyes finally met hers again, they were unsure. “Can—could I ask your name?”

She gave him another easy smile and replied with the usual. Not returning his honesty—but when did she ever?

“Very nice to meet you.” And young Geraldus actually dipped his head in a little bow to her. Oh, she would have this one fast asleep in half an hour.

“What a gentleman,” she laughed, finding herself harmlessly charmed by the gesture. “The pleasure’s all mine. Seat?” 

She sank back down on the edge of the bed while leaving plenty of space for a gap. For a moment Geraldus froze, and she was afraid she’d broken him. Then he followed suit wordlessly, wine in hand, and took a seat on the very far corner of the mattress.

Really should bother Amira for some chairs, she noted to herself. Then again, most of the clientele didn’t mind beds as much as Geraldus apparently did.

At least he was drinking. It would help him forget his nerves, and she was pleased to see Geraldus take a long drought as his eyes roamed across the room again over the edge of his cup.

She took a savoring sip. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s sweet,” he agreed in surprise. “It doesn’t burn like—” He caught himself, looking sheepishly at her. “That is, it’s better than the wine back home.”

“Where’s home for you, Geraldus?” She tried and failed to imagine such a gentle soul growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

“Nowhere special,” he said, looking down to swirl the liquid in his cup. “Just a little village in the Greenfields.”

“Ah—” She half-reclined with an elbow on the mattress, and felt a grin rise to her face in spite of herself. “Yeah, that’s firmly ale country. Damn good ale, though.”

Geraldus’s face finally relaxed. “You’re from Greenfields too?”

“Just lived there for a while. Long enough to miss it after a few years in the Gate. Let me guess, was your family in barley or sheep?”

“Sheep,” he laughed, and she admired how handsome he was with a touch more confidence. “On rainy days I can still smell the wool.”

“You think sheep are bad? Try pigs.” She cocked a brow at him and took another drink.

Geraldus looked at her as though trying to tell whether she was joking. “There’s no way someone like you has mucked out a pig stall.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a lady,” he protested, as if that ended the discussion. “You drink Amnian wine, you smell like lavender—” Geraldus straightened up slightly, looking as though he'd given too much away. 

She found she enjoyed his guilelessness. She had no regrets about the comforts this life afforded her, but ‘lady’ was a stretch. Still, manners were always appreciated.

“How else do you think I paid my way here?” She teased him. “Selling my best sows set me up quite nicely my first year in Wrym’s Crossing.”

The subjects of life in the country compared to life in Baldur’s Gate took them far. She refilled their wine twice, eventually just leaving the bottle within arm’s reach on the floor. Geraldus had relaxed enough to mirror her pose and lean back on his elbow; she brought her feet up on the bed to curl into a comfortable shape beside him.

Perhaps sleepiness and the wine were going to her own head…but Geraldus looked prettier by the minute. She watched the rose-petal curve under his lower lip as he spoke, not catching what he was saying. His eyes were more of a pale green than the hazel gold she’d taken them for at first. Or maybe that was just a trick of the candlelight?

As she pondered, she realized that he had grown silent and was watching her face in turn. She'd angled herself closer to him involuntarily while he spoke. They were close enough she could hear the shallow note of his breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She requested, breaking the quiet. Geraldus nodded.

“Why exactly did you come here tonight? You’re not the usual type,” she added, and touched her fingers to his free hand in an attempt to soften the observation.

“Oh.” Geraldus fiddled with the neck of the wine glass in his hand. “It wasn’t really my idea. Not that—this is nice,” he said in a rush, and she felt his fingers twining up through hers on the bedspread. “Not like I expected.”

She cocked her head. “Did you expect me to eat you up?” Not a bad idea, she thought, glancing over the lines of his body under his jerkin.

“No!” He blurted out in surprise. “Maybe? I don’t know…it just happened so fast. Entharl pushed me out the doors before I knew where I was. Said I was too gloomy for usual company,” he added, looking down at his boots. 

So that confirmed her earlier suspicions. Harpers may be discreet, but it was hard to miss things when you worked down the street from what was almost certainly one of their safehouses. Which meant poor Geraldus must have been sent here tonight for comforting as much as pleasuring.

“Have you had a bad day?” She asked gently.

His large eyes met hers with a long look. For a moment, he almost seemed close to tears. “Bad week,” he answered.

She brushed the back of his hand with her thumb. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Vehemently, he shook his head at her.

“What would you like to do then, Geraldus? You can tell me.”

“I don't know…I’m not sure.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Can I kiss you?”

In answer, she took the wine glass from his hand and set it at the foot of the bed beside her own. Then she reclined parallel to him, tilting her face up in an open offer.

Without another word, he leaned down to press his lips to hers. He trembled slightly against her, whether from nerves or from a more sober emotion she couldn’t tell. She brought a hand up to his hair regardless, smoothing and tucking the dark waves back behind one lightly pointed ear.

Their lips slid together softly like that for a long moment. Eventually she felt Geraldus relaxing against her mouth. But his frame still hovered over her, as if he wasn’t sure where to put his weight.

Without breaking the kiss, she guided his far arm to her side. Though she’d placed it there herself, the feel of his large palm pressing against her waist stirred a pleasant warmth in her belly. She clasped both hands behind his neck, encouraging him to lean down further over her while they kissed.

When he left his lips parted for a few seconds, she took the chance to gently touch her tongue to his. Geraldus made a soft, eager sound against her, returning the gesture with enthusiasm. His mouth was warm and sweet and tasted of rich Amnian wine.

While kissing him was lovely, she was increasingly curious to know how else she might take this poor boy’s mind off his apparent troubles. When she pulled away, Geraldus’s face trailed after hers as though reluctant to end the kiss.

“Would you like me to kiss you anywhere else, darling?”

Geraldus blinked down at her, perhaps thrown by the pet name. “Where else is there?”

It brought a laugh from her, and she curled her fingers through the dark locks behind his neck. “You really don’t know how this works, do you.”

His eyes widened with a nervousness that only confirmed her suspicions. 

“I've been with a woman before,” he answered defensively. 

“Oh?” She continued petting his hair, keeping her tone light and unteasing. “Have you been kissed other places, then? By men or women?”

From there, it was easy to suss out the exact limits of his experience. It came as no shock that no one had ever put their lips anywhere but his mouth. Not his neck, his chest, his cock—that last fact she withheld her kisses from him until he admitted, flushing profusely right up to his dark hair all the while. 

She found herself speaking more plainly than usual. “Geraldus, first I’d like to help you out of these clothes. Then I’d like to suck you off before I ride you. How does that sound?”

That had most certainly broken him. He stammered and blushed somehow darker; she could practically feel the heat radiating off his face above hers.

Finally, he managed a breathless response of “yes, please.”

She drew his lips in against hers again as she went to work. She felt him reach a hand to the buckles under his side, but she was already springing them open on both right and left.

“How do you know—” He began, impressed, before quieting as the realization hit him. She slid the leather pieces up over his head and leaned in to give him a quick, enthusiastic kiss. When his linen tunic followed, she kept him held back for a moment with a hand splayed over his sternum.

Gods damn, but they grew them right back in Greenfields. 

Geraldus was broad-shouldered and lean, with firm bands of muscle beneath the pale skin of his arms and chest and stomach. From the sinews in his forearms and the strong cut of his shoulders, she guessed he handled a longbow quite often.

As her eyes raked over him with open appreciation, she caught sight of a shining scar across his left side. Young he may be, but his body already bore evidence of his chosen profession. She reached to brush down the line of it with her fingers; Geraldus shivered but tilted slightly into her hand.

“Didn’t get that shepherding,” she observed.

“No,” Geraldus agreed. He licked his lips again—the gesture was much more intriguing combined with shirtlessness. She hooked her thumbs over the waist of his pants in suggestion.

“Wait,” he requested, his gentle voice trembling again. She watched his eyes moving over the curves under her thin robe. “Can I?”

She leaned back and stretched her arms up over the pillows, arching her back in invitation. 

Slowly and deliberately, as if unwrapping an expensive gift, his fingers reached for the tie at her waist. She watched with satisfaction as he drew the garment open to each side to expose the bare length of her body. His lips parted in admiration as he took her in.

“Can I touch you?” Geraldus asked in a whisper.

“Anywhere you like,” she assured him.

To her delight, Geraldus fell over her and began eagerly exploring her chest with his lips. When his hot mouth closed over the hard peak of one breast, she hummed in approval and ran her nails up through his long hair. It seemed to encourage him; his calloused palm moved to cup the other.

“Tonight’s for you, darling,” she reminded him lazily, not really in a hurry to interrupt him.

He responded between hungry swirls of his tongue. “I’d kiss you here if you’d let me,” he said, and his hand actually slid from her breast to land boldly above the apex of her thighs.

“Absolutely not,” she laughed against his brow. “Gods, you’re unbelievable—how dare those Harpers keep you hidden away so long? Sure you don’t have a little sweetheart in Rivington?”

“Of course not—” There was a wet sound as he released her breast to stare up at her, wide-eyed. “I wouldn’t be here if—if I was—”

She clasped his jaw in a hand to kiss him again, drowning out whatever earnest response he was trying to make to her teasing. “If you’re very, very good tonight, I’ll sit on your pretty face. How about that?”

“Gods,” he groaned, and that pretty face landed between her breasts. “Would you?”

She looked down at him quizzically. “You honestly want to, don’t you?”

His cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Yes,” he admitted.

“As long as you’re a good boy, then,” she told him. With a firm shove, she sent him sitting back on his heels at the end of the bed. “Now take off your pants, Geraldus.”

He scrambled to obey, kicking off his boots before his fingers fumbled at the laces of his trousers. She lay back and watched him with genuine anticipation. From the size of the tent straining at his front, she already suspected that the gods had given to him with both hands.

And what a delightful bit of justice in a harsh world—for young Harper Geraldus to be blessed with such a big cock.

His impressive length stood stiff at attention, skin a lovely smooth pink—and the size of him. Not the biggest she'd had, but much closer than his blushing shyness had led her to believe.

She crooked one finger at him where he stood in a come-hither motion. He crawled up the bed eagerly, but she shifted away to the side at the last minute. “On your back,” she directed him. 

Geraldus obeyed again, his tall frame collapsing into the pillows as he watched her shuck the robe all the way back off her shoulders. She curled up into his side, tracing a finger down the firm, fair planes of his chest and stomach. He shivered under her touch.

Then her fingers closed gently around his base—barely fitting a third of his length in her grip. She pumped him a few slow times from base to tip. It would require most of her creativity to take him, either with her mouth or her cunt.

But if anyone deserved both, it was the young man currently squirming and whining in her bed. She could tell Geraldus was struggling to quell the instinct to thrust up faster into her grip. No doubt trying to be good enough to earn what she’d promised, judging by the way his wide eyes were fixed in anticipation on her face. She clenched her thighs together at the thought of having his eager mouth between them.

“I can see why no one’s put lips to your cock before,” she mused, enjoying the way his dark brows screwed up just from the unhurried strokes of her hand.

“W-why?” His tenor had shot up to a strained pitch. She loosened her grasp completely—it would be too easy to finish him like that.

“You’ve got enough to choke on,” she told him, and climbed between his legs. “But don’t worry, I’m quite good at this.”

Before he could clear his expression from its jumbled mixture of shock and hope, she leaned to take his tip softly over her tongue.

His body made a sharp jackknife at the waist, and Geraldus let out a word much filthier than she expected. But she was ready for his physical reaction—the weight of her forearms on his hips kept them firmly planted into the mattress.

She slid her mouth over him, relaxing her jaw to take him all the way to the back of her throat before releasing everything but the very tip of his cock. She continued the motion several times until saliva trickled down the rest of his length. Then she returned her hand to his base, twisting her grip to meet her lips with each motion.  

She took him just like that, giving attention to his full length, relishing the way his smooth tip bumped the back of her throat with each thrust. He whimpered and begged incoherently above her at the sensations of her mouth and hand taking him in tandem. Could he already be as close as he sounded?

Just as the thought occurred, she felt his legs tense on either side of her own. Almost disappointed, she instantly slid her mouth off him with a wet kiss of release. 

Geraldus made a sound like a sob at the absence. When she glanced up, there were actual tears pricking at the corners of his dark eyelashes.

“Dearest,” she murmured up to him. It was far too tempting to apologize to that face; she placed nipping kisses along his thighs instead. “You deserve to feel my cunt first, don't you think?”

“Yes,” he groaned, obviously trying to master the strain in his voice. It suddenly seemed like a very good time to reward his patience.

“Be a good boy and slide down,” she urged him, already moving up around his straining erection on her knees to straddle his waist.

That brought a spark of hope to his eyes. Geraldus frantically gripped her torso for leverage, tugging her bodily up the bedcovers as he somehow nudged each of his broad shoulders through the gap in her legs. As he settled her above him, he stared up at the slick view between her thighs like a penitent.

“Smack me twice if you can’t breathe,” she told him, giving his dark locks a teasing pull to try and get his attention. The way he nodded left her unconvinced he’d heard.

Deciding he looked ready enough, she lowered herself firmly over his waiting mouth.

For all his obvious inexperience, the instant heat and enthusiasm of his tongue was a pleasant start. Her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction as he painted firm strokes up her folds, just barely reaching her peak.

“Good,” she praised with a sigh. “Higher—”

He listened attentively despite wearing her thighs clasped around the delicate points of his ears. His hands rose to her hips as he angled his mouth higher, finally hitting the spot where she needed him most. Her toes curled where they were pressed over his biceps.

He was completely unpracticed, but he had good enough instincts to keep the pace steady as she rocked herself against his face. She imagined his hips bucking uselessly into the air behind her, desperate to wet his neglected cock in the folds his tongue was parting.

“Pretty Geraldus,” she sighed, her hand a fist in his dark hair, trying to keep her wits about her as she felt a twitching climax build at her core. “Shall I come on your tongue?”

His eyes flew wide between her legs. In answer, strong forearms gripped tighter over each of her thighs, holding her down onto the now-frantic lapping of his tongue over her slit. She closed her eyes and arched her back against him, giving way to the heat of his mouth desperately sucking and licking her closer to the edge.

With one last tug on his hair, she shuddered against him and rode out her orgasm over his tongue. She felt a gush of arousal from her center flow out over his lips. Geraldus moaned something against her flesh, but the words dissolved into a hum that ran straight to her core and reverberated as another shiver of pleasure up her spine.    

With effort, she pushed herself back to sit on his chest, freeing his arms. Geraldus gasped for air slightly, but his expression was drunk with pleasure and a bit of pride. His mouth and chin were painted wet with her arousal.

“Such a good boy,” she purred in praise. “Getting me ready to take that big cock of yours—” Before he could respond, she reached to swipe her thumb along the wet line of his jaw, then nudged at the juncture of his lips.

He understood immediately, obediently sucking her finger into his mouth and cleaning her release off with his tongue. She felt his hips rocking involuntarily behind her.

With a smooth shift of her weight, she landed with her bare chest pressed to his and pushed her wet slit back against the top of his cock.

“Oh,” Geraldus whined above her, and his beautiful eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. She continued slicking her folds up and down his length to wet him, all the while watching the way his face screwed up as if pained. His fingers flew to grip around hers where they lay over his ribs. 

It was difficult enough to line up her opening with his cock from this angle—let alone while having both hands held hostage under his own. Using his firm stomach as leverage, she pushed up to straddle him against her and then sank down. It seated the tip of him perfectly inside her. 

Just that first stretch was delicious. Geraldus seemed to feel the same; his hands released hers, instead landing on her hips with an enthusiastic squeeze. But he panted obediently under her, eyelids still shut tight, waiting for her to take him further.

Little by little, she eased herself down onto each inch of him, her jaw falling slack as he stretched her walls to their limit. Finally her hips landed to slot against his own. 

She stayed there for a moment, relishing the utter fullness of having his cock entirely buried within her. The ache at her opening was slowly tipping from a twinge of pain to a throb of pleasure.

But she wouldn’t be able to ride him from this angle. Instead, she leaned forward to grasp his strong shoulders and braced her arms straight against them. “Geraldus, look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open then, and landed on her face where it hovered above his. She took in his parted lips, the aquiline line of his nose, the youthful smoothness of his brow marred by a pleading wrinkle as he waited for her to move. And his expressive eyes, which she now decided with certainty were a pretty shade of hazel—currently traveling over her face as if trying to read her thoughts. 

“You are the loveliest man,” she told him with utter sincerity. And I’m going to fuck you until you forget everything but my cunt.

With his eyes still on her, she slid her hips up and back down over his length. A guttural, breathy sound rose straight from his chest. She continued working him in and out of her tight wetness, finding a slow but steady pace that was just barely past the edge of teasing for both of them.

“Oh, Gods—” His hands spasmed against her hips, as if he wanted to bounce her faster on him but wasn’t sure whether it was permitted.

She took the cue herself. She ground her hips into his at a more brisk clip—and bit her lip hard at the sensation of his tip knocking deep inside her with each thrust. At this angle and pace, he filled her to the point of incoherence.

After being taken up to the edge of release by her mouth, she could tell Geraldus was already close again. When her fingers brushed up over his hard nipples, he let out a shuddering whine of pleasure. His hard length twitched against her walls.

At once, she slowed to grind her hips into him, relishing the pressure of his hard cock filling her so fully. He panted at yet another denial, and she felt his calloused fingertips digging into the flesh of her hips. Geraldus gazed up at her with a plea for more.

“Have you been good enough to come in me?” She studied his face unhurried, admiring the way his fair brow screwed up in anguish and pleasure at the question. “What do you think, darling?”

“Yes,” he begged, too sweet to know he was strong enough to fuck her at whatever pace he wanted, even from this angle. “Please, yes, I have—”

She splayed her fingers across his chest, rocking herself deeper atop him. “Ask me for it.”

“Please,” he whined prettily, his eyes shining with tears again. “Please, please, I’ve been good, I swear—Gods, let me come inside you, please—”

He was so earnest, so beyond desperate, it would be unthinkably cruel to deny him. She leaned both hands back on his thighs and rode him hard, using the angle to drive his cock into her center again and again. Stars swelled across her vision; each thrust sent his considerable length pounding against the limits of her insides. She closed her eyes against another rush of pleasure to her core, listening to the sweet way Geraldus whimpered her name.

Large palms pressed hard against her lower back—the angle of him shifted inside her as he leaned up to muffle his sounds into the skin of her breast. Then his arms and legs shuddered as he released inside her, spilling and twitching against her walls. She rode him out through it, as best she could with the way he clutched her to him, wanting him to feel every last scrap of pleasure.

Her own climax hit her like the snap of a bowstring. She found her arms clenching around his shoulders for balance, as if she might tumble away on the wave that rushed through her body. 

Geraldus supported her firmly, sweet thing that he was, holding her tight despite the way his own limbs trembled.

After a while of him holding her straddled on his lap, the pressure between her legs turned to an ache. She stifled a wince as she shifted to slide off him. Even his softening length was a stretch for her tender and likely now bruised insides. She chided herself for riding him so enthusiastically before—she knew better than that. 

As she began to pull away further, Geraldus clutched his arms tight around her back.

“We just need a towel,” she explained, turning to kiss the tip of his ear. “Did you think I was leaving?”

“No,” he lied, growing sheepish again, but his arms loosened to let her up.

She returned with a soft cloth for each of them. He reached for one, but she knelt beside the bed to neatly clean him. Even now, he was still too green to grasp exactly how this all worked.

And the mess between her own legs could wait; by now his release had already dripped out of her to generously coat her thighs.

Once they were both tidy, she rose to her feet and smoothed back a stray lock of his hair. “Would you like me to draw you a bath?”

Geraldus shook his head, looking up at her with sleepy affection.

“Would you like to go to bed, then?”

His eyes filled with innocent delight. “I can stay?”

She considered telling him that after the sum his keepers had no doubt paid, he could do a great many more things with her. But it might be nice to surprise him with that in the morning. 

Instead, she raked her fingers through his hair and tilted his face up for a soft kiss. “Of course, darling.”

She moved on rather unsteady legs to snuff all the candles, then helped guide him under the covers through the dark. 

When it came to sleeping, she didn’t usually care to share her bed with others. Tonight she found herself in an unusually generous mood. Geraldus was long-limbed and full of wiry muscle, yet every bit as gentle as a lamb. 

As she settled herself under the blankets, he notched his face up against her shoulder and rested an arm securely across her middle. She leaned her cheek against his dark hair like a pillow. The feel of being weighed down by his body against her side was comforting in a way she didn’t expect.

“I love you,” Geraldus abruptly sighed against her neck.

She let out a sleepy breath of laughter that ruffled the locks of his hair. 

“No you don’t,” she told him gently, and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You just really, really needed that.”

[pinguphd]

Soldier of Heaven Chapter 1

I spent like 3 days editing this, but at least I finally have chapter one of my fem!Shep/Kaidan fic. Taking place after the events of ME3, we're going to explore just what happened to our dear Commander Amira Shepard and her love, Kaidan Alenko. I would like to thank @the-californicationist for putting up with my rambling, and especially @tealenko for helping me work out some of the ideas I had. Wouldn't have done it without you two, this goes out to you!

Each chapter, including the name of the fic itself, is named after a song. I will update the playlist with each chapter so you can listen along with me. Enjoy!

“I won't be coming home

I won't be going anywhere

I will guard this post forever

Here on the alpine slope, where I did my final stand, I shall remain

Among the ice and snow that binds me to this mountain”

Soldier of Heaven-Sabaton

It took close to two months in the aftermath of the Reaper War for things to return to any semblance of normalcy.  While the makeshift hospitals were still full, they did not seem so utterly overwhelmed as when the Catalyst was fired, finally eradicating the Reaper threat and ending the horrid cycle.  Much of humanity’s home was destroyed, yet the overall mood in London was one of optimism or cautious enthusiasm at the society they are rebuilding. 

Amira Shepherd, the famed Savior of the Citadel, first human Spectre and one of the best biotics the galaxy has ever seen was one of the people still in hospital.  The doctors and nurses had no idea who she was, and Amira wanted to keep it that way.  Best they could figure was she was probably an Alliance soldier, but it was hard to be certain when she would not speak to any of them.  The combination of watching a man she considered to be a father figure to her-Admiral Anderson die right in front of her, the comedown from the six months that she had spent going from here to kingdom come gathering everything she possibly could to ensure the continued survival of everyone in the Milky Way, and, perhaps most heartbreakingly, saying her final goodbyes to her beloved Kaidan took its toll on her.

Having survived 3 different suicide missions, curing the genophage and watching Mordin die, saving Kaidan on Virmire, even her fraught reunion with him on Horizon was distressing.  She has seen enough trauma, heartbreak, and death to last her many lifetimes (quite literally, in her case). She could still recall every second of her final moments with him.  Helping him up after being fired upon with that beam, even forcing him onto the Normandy even as he begged her not to make him go and his anguish as she left him was the worst of all of it.  She loved him so deeply she made him go, although it broke her heart to do so.

That did not make the aftermath any easier.  After she had fired the Catalyst, she had very little recollection of what it was like in the midst of all that rubble.  Her armor was in pieces and near nonexistent and the burns and injuries she had, she almost couldn’t feel.  All she could remember was the feeling deep within her that she had to get back to him, no matter what.  Despite the risks to what she knew had to be incredibly fragile health, she did her best to keep a biotic field about her in the hope search and rescue would find her.  Dead or alive, she owed it to Kaidan to know how she ended.  Not another Alchera, not on her watch.

From what she had been told by the medical staff, she was in the smoldering rubble for around 3 days.  By the time she was found she was incredibly weak and in what she could only imagine was a rough state.  Bad enough to the point where the staff at the hospital, full to the brim with Alliance doctors, nurses and support staff had no idea she was Commander Shepard.  This fact suited her just fine.  

For some unknown reason they were keeping her there, so in a show of defiance, she kept her damn mouth shut.  She filled her time not in PT with a sketchbook and canvas a well meaning woman visiting her friend at work gave her.  It’s not right dear, you being here all alone. She was one of the only people in the few months she had been in hospital who was not interested in making her talk.  I understand dear if you don’t want to say anything she said to her on her first visit.  She enjoyed the companionship anyway.  

This sweet older woman was completely and utterly empathetic, expecting nothing in return.  Selfless too, visiting her.  She seemed to have a way with, what did Kaidan call them? “Old soldiers.” Huh.  Guess those words ring truer than she thought.  When the woman, Elizabeth, she eventually learned was her name, had come to visit, she always had a mug of tea and biscuits with her, armed to the teeth with even more art supplies for her.  

Elizabeth would sit with her in her room, chattering away about everything and nothing at all.  She heard stories of her kids and grandkids, all gone now.  She heard about her troubles finding ingredients for the teas and biscuits she brought with her on her daily visits.  More than once the doctors, nurses, therapists and technicians chided her for being rude in not talking to her friend who was so kind in visiting someone she had never met before.  Elizabeth came to her defense more than once, shutting that attitude towards her with a fury only known to a mama bear protecting her cubs.  

It was on one of these visits, Elizabeth chatting away while Amira worked on a scene of her and Kaidan’s last goodbye, that Elizabeth had said something particularly interesting.  “Apparently some Admiral is even in the area today.  Think he might be visiting some of the Alliance folk.”  Hearing this, Amira felt the blood in her veins run cold.  Beyond hope she prayed it both was and was not Admiral Hackett.  Desperate for word of her crew on the SR-2, she studiously focused her attention back on the pad in her lap, whilst Elizabeth prattled on and left her to get lost in her thoughts.  It was something she did a lot since she was found.

Okay, she was lying to herself.  She knew full well why they were keeping her there.  The combination of how heavy she used her biotics in her final moments before she made it to the Citadel, the injuries she sustained, and lying half dead (well, mostly dead if she was being honest with herself) using the very last of her reserves to emit a strong enough blue glow to be found had completely destroyed her implant.  The cybernetics and nanites Cerberus had given her had protected much of her fragile state and had served to speed up the healing process.  

In order to distract herself from the train of thought that thinking of Cerberus always led her down (the awful reunion with Kaidan on Horizon, almost losing Garrus on Omega, the suicide mission that was the Omega 4 relay…) she instead forced herself to use her famed laser focus on running down the list of why she had not been identified, her pencil stilling against the pad of paper in front of her.  Feeling a sense of calm overcome her after Elizabeth’s seemingly innocent remark at the visiting Alliance brass, she ran through the logistics she knew by heart.  

During and after any skirmish, battle or war, communications were in some form of disarray.  In this case, they were all but destroyed.  To that end, she knew connections to Alliance systems in particular were nonexistent.

When they had to replace her L3 implant with a highly experimental L5 type model similar to what she retrieved from Grissom knowing that the logistics of obtaining a safe and extraordinarily well tested L3 implant like what she had previously (she groaned internally at that, it would be her third damn implant) it was so badly damaged they couldn’t easily trace it back to the Alliance database, if they had the access at all.

With so few resources, they did not have a chance to thoroughly scan her like they would have done pre-war.

Over half of Earth’s population was dead, and with medical staff on or near the front lines their numbers had been particularly affected. With so few staff, and an extraordinary number of patients to tend to, she was able to stay safely under the radar.

Those who needed tending to number in the many thousands.  As fond as the medical field and Alliance tended to be of rules and protocol, the ability to follow such things went out the window in wartime, which she knew very well.

She thought of these 5 things, over and over, during the course of her visit with her friend.  It distracted her and calmed her nerves.  Anxieties she had become all too familiar with since Alchera reared their ugly head once more, however, when she heard a flutter of activity outside the small room she had been given.  She looked towards the door, with a mix of fear and well-disguised terror in her eyes in contrast to the awe Elizabeth had held in hers.  Elizabeth’s heart softened when she looked upon Amira, the older woman coming up to her to place a weathered hand on her bare shoulders.

Listening to the conversation in the hall with her well-practiced hearing, she heard a very familiar voice talking with the nurse that was particularly horrid to her over the course of her stay.  Prone to letting her mind wander since the war's end, she thought of all the ways this woman had tried to goad her into talking.  Attempts at withholding food, being more aggressive in the treatments she was giving, waking her at odd hours or abruptly, the list goes on.  She guessed that was part of why Elizabeth had visited her so often, after the first time she witnessed “the wicked harpy” draw blood with a rather vicious looking needle that left a pretty purple bruise at her elbow.

“Oh, how did you enjoy your visit sir?  We have had a great many Alliance soldiers grace our halls.  I myself have taken care of many of them.” She could hear their muffled footsteps walking away from the corner of the hospital. Elizabeth had given her shoulder a gentle squeeze, rolling her eyes. If by “care” she means acting like a wicked harpy armed with a syringe full of medi-gel, then by all means, she took great care of you dear. The two people in the corridor were unfortunately not far enough away, because the Alliance Admiral had heard some of their words and turned back around, heading right toward the door.  To her.

“Oh no sir, you wouldn’t want to go in there.  This silly woman doesn’t bother to talk to anyone.  No one knows her name and no one comes to visit either so clearly whoever she had in her life either is dead or she was so miserable to them like she is to us they just don’t care.”  She giggled a bit at that, letting just enough of her facade crack that the man's steps came to an abrupt halt and turned about face towards her.  Coming close enough to the windowed door, Amira’s eyes widened.  She knew that silhouette anywhere.

With a stern voice, he addressed Harpy.  “With all due respect ma’am, you were fully apprised of the reason for my visit today.  I did not put up with your company for the last hour for nothing.  I did not stand next to you blabbering about your skills as I visited my men and women, many of whom were under my command or under the command of a good friend who is also missing.  If there is a soldier in there under MY command, I will see her.”  Despite the stuttered protests of Harpy, trying to recover her “reputation”, he swiftly held out a hand to push open the door. 

Amira froze and dropped her pencil.  Clearly startled, Elizabeth raised her stature and wrapped both hands around her shoulders, standing protectively over her adopted charge.  “And just who in the hell are you?  Barging in here like a raging krogan like that, have you no manners man?”  Amira placed a hand over hers and shrugged them off, standing up.  The man’s eyes widened.  Yes, they knew each other very well.

“Commander Shepard?”

[scarlet-curls]

Hello 🖐

I am ameera from Gaza, the breadwinner for my sick mother, my sister, and my brother after the death of my father due to Corona. I am an application programmer and a lecturer at the university. When the war came, it destroyed everything, my home, my university, and my work. Now I want to protect my family from danger and go out to treat my mother. And to complete our educational journey. Therefore, I ask you to help me by donating or publishing the link to my campaign to everyone.

Thank you very much 🙏🙏.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/amiras-story-between-hope-and-resilience-a-call-for-soli

I've donated to so many and I'm so sorry I can't afford to donate to any more right now, but I urge anyone who has the means to contribute 💖

Mr Alanqar, I am so sorry for your loss. I wish you all the best and I sincerely hope you and your family can find the peace you are owed 🙏

[fxrkeeps]

hi!

below the cut is my muse list (currently getting the muse page code approved) & a random assortment of "adult content" plots i'm stealing for threads. if any of these speak to you shoot me message or give this a like.

some of these have some dark elements, so reader beware.

muses:

nathaniel shaklebolt (mahershala ali) - fantasy/harry potter/magical based verses only diego graves (dj cotrona) isabella "izzi" comacho (tristin mays) - has a fantasy/harry potter/magical verse amira "ami" cormier (zazie beetz) jameson "jay" bordeaux (casey deidrick) myra zhao (havana rose liu)

plots

my muse & his brother have decided to trade girlfriends for a weekend without telling either women ahead of time.

our muses have been friends since they were children, and mine has a hard time telling them no. knowing that your muse has come to them wanting to have a baby.

your muse's partner owes mine a lot of money, and went on the run. leaving yours to clean up the mess.

an arranged relationship of some sort (bonus point for cult things)

[skyguywrites]

thread tracker wheeee

❗️= close to wrapping up. ❓= can be wrapped up/archived if people need/wish. bold = ship thread. italics = important/defining plot.

ACTIVE.

dan owes ;

max/ivy2 - ivy tells max about her past. (20 jan // 2 notes.)

raff/harlow1 - first meeting. (20 jan // 7 notes.)

rafferty/maverick2 - nye/fireworks. (3 feb // 2 notes.)

ripley/amira1 - church meet. (3 feb // 1 note.)

marley/poppy1 - poppy's bi awakening. (6 feb // 0 notes.)

rae/flynn1 - reunion. (9 feb // 3 notes.)

wardo/flynn1 - reunion. (11 feb // 1 note.)

marley/harlow2 - homeless bucket. (12 march // 3 notes.)

henry/diego3 - diego finds out about stefan. (26 april // 7 notes.)

louis/wardo4 - bar date. (27 may // 2 notes.)

annie/eli2 - valentine's day mixup. (2 june // 2 notes.)

jen owes ;

jax/persephone2 - valentine's day date. (15 april // 3 notes.)

noah/poppy2 - poppy's closet. (28 april // 8 notes.)

killian/amira3 - valentine's day. (29 april // 6 notes.)

jax/matty1 - australia. (29 april // 5 notes.)

harlow/raff/mav1 - valentine's day. (15 may // 3 notes.)

jax/annie1 - miami. (15 may // 2 notes.)

chess/matty2 - post work drinks. (15 may // 4 notes.)

chess/ivy3 - experimenting. (15 may // 0 notes.)

jax/dante2 - monaco. (1 june // 0 notes.)

michaela owes ;

billy/simon2 - michigan. (1 june // 0 notes.)

louis/ivy3 - kittens and christopher street. (2 june // 13 notes.)

ARCHIVED.

dan/michaela.

amira/joey1. (7 notes.)

annie/eli1. (2 notes.)

billy/simon1. (10 notes.)

bradley/persephone1. (5 notes.)

diego/henry1. (14 notes.)

diego/henry2. (16 notes.)

elias/matty1. (2 notes.)

henry/ivy1. (7 notes.)

henry/poppy1. (14 notes.)

ivy/max1. (6 notes.)

ivy/raff1. (6 notes.)

ivy/wardo1. (8 notes.)

jess/marley1. (6 notes.)

mav/raff1. (4 notes.)

mav/wardo1. (3 notes.)

persephone/ripley1. (5 notes.)

poppy/wardo1. (4 notes.)

scotty/joey1. (2 notes.)

dan/jenny.

chess/henry1. (7 notes.)

chess/joey1. (9 notes.)

dante/jax1. (3 notes.)

harlow/marley1. (5 notes.)

louis/max1. (6 notes.)

louis/wardo1. (20 notes.)

louis/wardo2. (8 notes.)

louis/wardo3. (13 notes.)

jenny/michaela.

amira/killian1. (14 notes.)

amira/killian2. (7 notes.)

chess/diego1. (9 notes.)

chess/ivy1. (7 notes.)

chess/ivy2. (9 notes.)

chess/matty1. (6 notes.)

harlow/ivy1. (6 notes.)

harlow/maverick1. (6 notes.)

ivy/louis1. (10 notes.)

ivy/louis2. (13 notes.)

killian/matty1. (2 notes.)

noah/poppy1. (8 notes.)

persephone/jax1. (9 notes.)

[shwbyy]

Amira Arabic Voicelines

Forgot to post this lol

Here are some voicelines I wrote for Amira in my mother tongue, Arabic. (Lebanese dialect, not formal).

I’ve actually never written/created an explicitly Lebanese/Arab character before. With a game as diverse as Overwatch, I was inspired to create what I guess was my own form of representation. (The only explicitly Lebanese character I’ve seen on screen in Western media is Janis Ian 💀 and I don’t even know if she counts or not).

I hope the sudden influx of Overwatch OCs I’m seeing inspires more people from lesser represented cultures to try their hand in a similar manner. 🥹💜✨

[forgottenamira]

The Badge of Queen Amira

The Queenly Arms of her Royal Majesty, Amira of the House of Calainon, Queen of [Varmont]

Or (yellow/gold): generosity and elevation of the mind

Gules (red): warrior or martyr; military strength and magnanimity

Argent (white/silver): peace and sincerity

Sable (black): constancy, grief

Dragon: valient defender of treasure; courage; valor and protection; sharp eyed guardian; the bravest of all creatures

Crescent Moon: one who has been honored by the sovereign; hope; hope of greater glory; military/religious service; mark of the second son; serene power over mundane actions; serenity

Tower: safety and grandeur; defense; individual fortitude; strength and protection

Flames: zealousness

Crown: heaven; victory, sovereignty, empire; success

The royal badge of the Queen Consort

Amira's own elaborated crest

Notes:

You will note that Amira eschews the Varmont colors and crowns to which use she is entitled as the wife of Roderick. This is a personal -- and deeply controversial -- choice: a quiet way of saying that she owes nothing to anyone. The crown does, however, appear on her official badge's manteled display, but she only took to using it after the birth of Edmund and silently reminds herself that it is her son's crown and not her husband's. Roderick lets this all be -- though he was initially quite displeased! -- as she told him it was her effort not to too badly offend the late Empress, as Amira was the first additional wife taken and it was a very sensitive topic at the time.)

The tower and flames and dragon not only represent the symbolic qualities but are also a specific reference to her [ Calainon heritage ]: Calainon's Tower, the Kolchean dragon, and the Eternal Flame it is technically her responsibility to keep forever lit (she has farmed this service out to a trusted servant and it is actually mostly overseen by Godfrey and his network bc lbr Amira doesn't give a flying fig). The moon is also a reference to the eclipse which forms both the crest of [ House Calainon ] as well as the mytho-historical event which led to the doom of her alleged ancestor.

This crest is also very similar to the original Ancient Arms of House Calainon said to have been borne by the original mytho-historical Calainon, himself.

Both the couple and their legitimate children are entitled to the use of any of the below crests.

The combined arms of the Queen with her husband, the Emperor.

Mantled display:

An alternate (also sometimes appears without the crescent):

The elaborated Arms of Roderick I and his Queen Amira

Note:

The three (Roderick, Amira, and Edmund, as well as Godfrey and Tristan, would also be entitled to the usage of the Ancient Arms of Calainon in these same fashions.

I can absolutely and without any doubt say that, rather than pairing with Amira's badge, pairing with the Ancient Arms of Calainon was what Roderick would have wanted used for Edmund before he took up his own arms, so I'm guessing that's mostly what would have been used when he was a baby -- Roderick out there like 'my kid is a varmont AND a calainon!' bc Roderick's a freak like that and likes to associate himself w the og Calainon wherever possible laksdjfjkdsjfk ANYWAY!! Once Edmund got old enough to choose, even before he took his own arms,he couldn've chosen to use Amira's badge as well, etc)

The Ancient Arms of the Royal House of Calainon

Modern alternate:

Arms of Varmont and Calainon:

Mantled display

The elaborated Arms of Roderick I and the House of Calainon

[eric-the-bmo]

Behold, the Neighborhood Watch cast list! Taken directly from my notes document, accurate as of writing this (s2ep4):

Main Cast

Song O’Sullivan [she/they]: We got a witch! Was sent to the town by their mafia father in order to keep them safe, and had a ritual go wrong three years ago. Has a pet snake and never explains what her job is. 6'3. Lives in 1317.

Markus Jones [they/he/she]: (Bugs, bugs, and more bugs.) A very strange person from Romania with an obsession with bugs and no living family to speak of. Will not hesitate to threaten or even stab others. 5’4 and lives in 1313.

Louis Bon Fontaine [he/him]: The Crooked with a protection amulet, a deal with the devil, and a vampire who’s coming after him. 6’1, looks old enough to be someone’s dad, late 30’s-early 40s. Lives in 1303.

John Doe [he/him]: A monster confined to a human form three years ago, trying to keep his nature and hunger for human flesh a secret as he attempts to make friends and be loved. So far he hasn’t been doing too well in both aspects lmao. 6’10. Lives in 1311.

Neighbors

Shelby Waters: John’s roommate. A go-with-the-flow Twitch streamer who’s a total skeptic of all things supernatural.

Philip Moore: A divorced father trying his best to take care of his daughter. Louis’s neighbor. Revealed to be an alcoholic in s1ep5, though he’s been working on recovering.

Jenny Moore: Philip’s daughter. She’s a brat.

Bob Patterson: He and his wife are residents of 1315, and are collectively awful. Owes Markus a favor since they helped his wife, and in s2ep4 it was discovered he’s a monster hunter.

Karen Patterson: Bob’s wife. She has way too many cats, and in s1 was infected by a strange plant. Leader of the HOA, or is at least part of it.

Emmett: Song’s neighbor. Revealed to have uploaded his brain to AI in s1ep3, and was the one who constructed the Dome. Had been researching the Hunter cryptids, and provides us with information.

Arjun Sampath: Fatima’s husband, he’s a brilliant engineer who used to do government work and created Amira. The Sampath family lives in 1319.

Fatima Sampath: Arjun’s wife. She and Arjun had always wanted a child but were unable to, for several unspecified reasons. She made us fruit baskets when we all first moved in.

Amira Sampath: Arjun and Fatima’s daughter. Is on her cell phone a lot. Recognized Shelby and is a fan of her. Was taking archery lessons with Song before it was discovered in s2 she was a robot and lost her memories of the show’s events.

Kenneth Feinstetter: A loud and boisterous conspiracy theorist who claims to know the truth about this town. Revealed to be a prophet in s2ep4. Specifically, physical touch allows him to view memories; he can’t seem to be able to choose what he sees.

William Kreiger: A horribly socially awkward man with a pencil stache and many rats. Knows about Markus’s bug ability, and is implied to have the same talents but with rats.

Bonnie McMurry: John and Shelby’s new neighbor. A sweet old lady who had a son that passed away a few years ago. Loud music came from her basement at night until she decided to have a yard sale.

Heath Clark: An outspoken trans man who enjoys camping and the outdoors. Married to Sammy.

Sammy Clark: He’s totally the Sasquatch. Claims to be Blessed by Nature and can control birds, a little bit- has the same ability as Markus and William.

Lucretius [Lestat]: An incredibly pretty and charming individual who’s actually a vampire- and Louis’s ex. He moved here just to make Louis’ life worse, and is trying to get with Song because of this. Recently changing houses due to a bug infestation.

Townspeople

Walter Havershaft: The cheerful mailman of Greenville. Introduced in the season one finale.

Kathy Green: The florist. She and Walter like each other.

Jack: The local handyman/everyman of town. Runs a store called “Jack of All Trades.”

Laura Brown: The librarian. Likes to read romance novels.

Joseph Miller: The park ranger.

Vincent “Vinnie” Carbone: Runs the pizza shop.

Harold Wells: A bag boy at the grocery store. A “well, Actually-” kind of guy and carries around an anime body pillow (tf?)

Sunny: The ice cream stand man. Does he know they grant wishes..?

Dr. Amis Sutherland: The doctor of the family clinic, as there is no hospital in Greenville. Said to be a miracle worker.

Tawny Evergreen: An older woman with a flower crown and crochet top. She runs the local coffee shop/ cat cafe, Grounded in Nature.

Jewel Green: An employee of the coffee shop. Doesn't care for her job, has many piercings, and is legally not allowed to spell the customer’s names correctly. Granddaughter of the Crestfallens.

The Crestfallens: An elderly couple who runs the Circle general store [which is totally supernatural]. Very joyful, despite their last name.

Clara: An intern for the botanical parade, and also John’s coworker. Seems to have a crush on him, and has lived in Greenville her whole life.

Minister Jebediah Ford: The Minister of the church in town. A nice and well-dressed older man; he has a garden.

Bob Jr.: The Sheriff of Greenville and the Pattersons’ son.

Jason Chen: A cop.

[letterboard-fantasy]

Theatre of Darkness | Barriere Hotel Lore | [ Chapter One Link ]

Barriere Chapter Two: Devilish Dancers [Part One]

Characters in Chapter Two:

Eiji starring as | A Ride through The Other Side - Guide Ross

Akihiko starring as | In the Twilight’s Depths - Twilight Bates and Diane ???

Liam starring as | Wise, Rich Groom - The "Hotel Host"

Ellie starring as | Manipulative Bride - Ballroom Organizer

Beth starring as | Abandoned Bride - Ballroom Planner, Amira ???

Laurence starring as | Curious Recorder - Lucien Aliceson

Lockheart and Inference starring as | Hired Investigators - Investigator Jaiden (Lockheart) and Investigator Denice (Inference)

??? starring as | - Emory Willows

"Ah, well you see, our two ballroom organizers are having a bit of a dispute. I was hoping that having the input of two guests would have them settle on a solution."

...

"You have ballroom organizers?!" Lucien's head felt light. "How did I miss that..." He had researched the hotel in depth in preparation for this trip... or so he thought he had. "...I'll be honest, I didn't know you guys hosted parties either." Emory had chimed in, also seemingly unaware of the ballrooms. "Hm? Oh, this is a more recent edition to the hotel's long list of things. My... erm... wife runs the ballroom with her planner, Amira. They're usually pretty in tune with one another but..." The Host awkwardly rubbed the back on his head with a face of... discomfort. "Is your wife hard-headed?" Emory had asked quietly. "Or highly stubborn?" Lucien chimed in. "Because I know when MY mother wants something, not even the devil can change her mind." He mumbled, half jokingly. In reality, he had gotten his mother's stubborn nature, which he credits for how far in the historical scene he was able to make it. He owed a lot of his mother. "...You could say that. Amira wants to have a space/galaxy themed ballroom event, but my wife... isn't exactly feeling that idea. I was hoping with guest input, they could find a common ground and work something out... before any axe-cidents happen." The Host had put an odd emphasis on the words "axe" in accidents, one that struck Lucien with a morbid curiosity. "Come on, Guide Ross will be here soon. And it would be rude to leave him alone in the cold."

They had quietly made their way through the eerily quiet Tower Branch, and Lucien could swear that the halls were getting darker... and more starry as they traveled down the halls, as if they were changing. Transforming. Right before their eyes. Lucien couldn’t help but wonder if he was just seeing things. They carefully wandered down the hallways until they reached the entrance of the Tower Branch. Outside waiting for them was an odd little fellow. He sat the edge of a cart with four wheels and a small overhead roof. Inside where a set of seats and a control panel. The man himself looked similar to the bellhop who had helped Lucien and his investigator friends move into their rooms. He had the same uniform, although his sleeves were wider than those of the little girl. His hair was neatly brushed, with a section pulled back behind his head into a low bun. Lucien noticed a small panda sitting on the edge of the cart by the control panel. He waited quietly, but when he saw the group of three approaching, he came down from his sitting position, standing intently by the odd cart’s side. “Oh? I see you’ve managed to find some guests, Host M.” His yellow eyes fell on the odd duo. “I was very fortunate that they were awake, and even more so that they agreed to aid us in our little… predicament.” There was something odd about the way he had spoken. Lucien wasn’t sure what it was. “Please, take a seat. There’s plenty of room for everyone.” The man, who he assumed was this Guide Ross, had opened the door to the odd cart, motioning for the duo to come and sit down inside. Lucien was hesitant, but a gentle nudge from the Host caused Lucien to stumble slightly, awkwardly entering the cart. He sat down across from the mysterious Emory, who sat down with silent grace. “…” He looked down at his phone.

4 missed calls, 2 from each of his investigator friends.

“Ah! Uhm, one second. My friends were calling me. They must be awake too…” Lucien had begun to text them back when he paused. “Actually… if they’re still awake, why don’t I invite them over too? The more opinions the organizers can get, the better, right?” He suggested the idea suddenly, causing the Host and the Guide to consider it. “I mean, it would certainly help, no?” Emory chimed in. “…okay. Go ahead. Tell them they have 5 minutes to get down here, by the front entrance. We can’t wait on them forever.” Those 5 minutes were some of the strangest 5 minutes Lucien had ever spent. They were talking. There wasn’t anything important coming from their conversations, it was really just to fill in space as they waited in the cart. Lucien couldn't remember what the conversation was about anyways. But soon enough, the two investigators appeared. "I hope we're not too late." Denice's voice was soft as if he was trying not to speak too loudly. Jaiden nodded, although he couldn't tell if it was a nod in agreeance... or if she was quite literally, nodding off.

...

The drive over was... odd, to say the least. It was extremely quiet out, almost too quiet. It left Lucien anxious. Anxious about what? He wasn't sure, if he was being honest. Was it quiet? Or was the silence too loud? Was it the way the stars swirled in the deep, purple night sky? The stars shone so brightly, it was almost hypnotic. Sometimes, he swore he saw roman numerals floating across the sky, appearing and disappearing. It reminded him of the 5th dimension. It was a story he had heard before. In fact, people believe that Mister Bates had crossed over into the 5th dimension on that night, and the strange, starry remnants left on the elevator were the effects caused by the dimension opening up. Of course, that was just a story. This hotel was built on ancient land, above the Barriere Mansion. It was just as likely that the bodies somehow broke through the elevator and into the underground mansion. It wasn't likely, but the thought of being swallowed whole by a different dimension? Lucien shook his head, rubbing his eyes. When he looked back up, the sky was normal. Well, at least, there were no numerals flying across his eyes. "... are we almost there?" Lucien couldn't help but ask. The night was messing with his head. Badly. "Almost. Is something wrong, Mister Aliceson?" Guide Ross looked at Lucien with an oddly serene look. Was no one else seeing the oddities? "No, I'm just..." Lucien's thought process was disrupted by a sharp pain in his head. "...sorry. I'm fine, my head just aches a little." To say he was seeing stars... was a bit of an understatement.

...

More silence. More floating, fading numerals. More sharp and sudden headaches. He didn't just feel dizzy...

...

He felt faint.

He didn't even notice that they had come to a halt in front of the Misfortune Manison. It glowed an eerie green in the moonlight. He felt a small tapping on his shoulder. "... huh?" He turned to face the source of the tapping, but found no one there. That was odd. He knows he saw a purple cuff in his peripheral. "What...?" He rubbed his head in confusion. He then turned back, but felt a small tuggin on his pant leg. He looked down, but once again, no one was there.

... although he could have sworn he saw a tuff of brown hair out of the corner of his eye. The only person he had seen with brown hair was Jaiden... but she was already halfway down the mansion's stone path. It couldn't have been her. Besides, the height didn't match up, Lucien thought.

It was at the height of his waist. It couldn't have been anything other than a small child.

"...Lucien. Are you okay? Everyone else is waiting inside the mansion for you. Is something wrong?" The voice was the smooth, familiar tone of the Host. Lucien paused as he looked up at the Host. "...I don't know. I think the blood loss might be getting to me, I'm seeing things that aren't even there, haha!" Lucien tried to laugh it off, but the laughing had made him a tad bit nauseous, so he stopped. Host paused, however, a perplexed expression gently dusting his facial features. "Blood loss?" "Eh, don't worry about it! It isn't that important, we've got a ballroom dance to save!" "...Right." ... The Host didn't seem very convinced.

Lucien made his way into the mansion with the Host in tow. Upon entering the mansion, he could hear people conversing to his left. Well... conversing was putting it lightly. He had turned his left, following the sounds of the voices. As he did, he came across the oddest sight.

"No no no! Amira, that idea is absolutely ridiculous!" "But Miss Connie, we're approaching Sir Bates' death-iversary!" "That's insensitive!" "But he always wanted to come to one of the ballroom events! Even Guide Ross and this young lady agree it's a nice sentiment!" "Throwing a ball for someone who will never be able to attend it? That's insulting! Even this gentleman and odd girl know so!" ... Lucien was perplexed. Was this the dispute the Host mentioned? This wasn't a dispute.

It was more of a harshly worded beatdown. One with both sides equally tied.

...

Oh.

Oh no.

"You there! Odd redhead!" The older woman, who he deduced was "Miss Connie", snapped her fingers before beckoning him over. "He's not odd, Miss Connie! ... he's just got white highlights in his hair." Lucien awkwardly shuffled forward as he mumbled something to him. "... it's not highlighted. It's poliosis..." He shook his head before looking at the two arguing women. "...tell Amira her idea is stupid." "I do not know Miss Amira's idea. I can't judge it as stupid, ridiculous, insulting, nor insensitive. I cannot say the same for you, Miss." The words came out of Lucien's mouth cold and venomously. The sudden heartless tone seemed to shock everyone. It was a tone Lucien personally hated taking. Because it sounded so harsh and condescending. "...hmph. You love bringing in difficult youngsters, don't you?" The sharp comment from Miss Connie was directed at her supposed husband, the Host. "...His decisions are his alone, Connie." He put his hands up defensively as he shook his head hesitantly. "I don't appreciate being told to talk someone else down, especially without knowing the full story. History is told by the winners, but both sides have a story. Miss Amira?" Lucien's eyes landed on the reddish brunette, who ever so slightly cowarded behind his own brunette friend. "... I'd like to hear your idea for the ballroom dance, please. In as much detail as you can manage. From theme to dress code to catering. I believe the more information you can produce, the better and more accurately I can judge it. Because I believe even with my friends already chosen input, you're both still at a standstill... and I'd be your tie-breaker." He always hated being the tie-breaker for conversations, because it always ended badly. He knew no matter which side he chose, that someone would despise him forever.

"Oh? A-As much detail as I possibly can?" Lucien's question had caught Amira off-guard, even more so as he pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. How long had that been there? It was almost like he pulled it out of thin air. "Yes! As much detail as you can! Or... have you not gotten that far yet?" Amira was quiet for a moment. "Well..." Amira clasped her hands behind her face as she looked down with an expression of timidness and embarrassment. "No... not quite... we've been arguing so much that we haven't gotten to the intimate details yet." Lucien pondered on the information before putting his notebook down. "Then just the theme will do. And the intent." Lucien gave a gentle smile as he spoke, one that put Amira to ease. "I believe Lucien will be so moved after you explain your idea, Miss Amira! He's a sucker for romantic intentions." Jaiden cheered Amira on with a soft smile. "...Okay. I was thinking about having a twilight-themed ballroom dance because the death-iversary of Twilight Bates is coming up. I worked with him back when he was still alive, and he told me it was always his dream to be able to attend one of the Barriere Hotel's special ballroom dances... and I promised to invite him personally to the next one! But... but he died far too soon. And he never got to see that dream come to fruition." Amira clasped her hand against her chest with a saddened expression. However, Lucien immediately noted an error in the story. She was far too young looking to have worked with Twilight Bates. He has died in 1946. They were in 20XX. That would mean Amira was in at least her late 60s, even older, in her upper 70s. But she barely looked a day over 30.

With that timeline... her story was impossible.

"... you are right. That certainly does have romantic intent." He chose not the point out the oddity. "I wanted to do one in his name... hoping maybe he could see it from wherever he is resting. That he'll see it, and smile, knowing that his hopes were never forgotten." Amira finished with a gentle sentiment. "...and your idea, Miss Connie?" Lucien showed little opinion as he seeked the ideas of the hotheaded Miss Connie. He must stay impartial until he had both sides. "...are you asking my ideas for the ballroom dance?" Connie rose a brow in slight confusion. Lucien nodded.

"... I was thinking of a golden-era ballroom dance... because our stage is the Misfortune Mansion. It's a once-in-a-lifetime stage. We're never going to have another ballroom dance on the mansion grounds. I say we go down beautiful and extravagant. There is no place in the world as deserving of it." Connie kept her words short and sweet, yet information dense and concise. "Mhm... I see. I'll need a moment to reflect on this information, ladies. I hope you don't mind."

With those parting words, Lucien picked up his journal and stepped aside. Closing his eyes, he drowned out the nervous chattering around him. Picking up his ink pencil, he summarized his findings.

'The dispute is barely a dispute at all. It's more of a verbal slaughter. Miss Amira wants to have a twilight-themed event, one inspired by a supposed wish made by Mister Bates when he was still alive. Ignoring the oddities laid in her motives, it seems driven by guilt and regret for never being able to grant Bates's wish. He was a very selfless person in life from my research, always giving and never asking, so the guilt and regret Amira feels seem justified. The intent seems overly genuine and pure. Connie's idea was a golden era theme, one to highlight and bring out the extravagant nature of the Misfortune Mansion. Mallory Misfortune was a man of class and pleasure, and Connie could be drawing inspiration from his likes and known history. Her ideas keep the historical location and history in mind... and as she points out, having a dance for someone who will never be able to attend... could come off as rather insulting. Both ideas are... rather romantic on closer inspection... but I think my answer here is very clear.'

"... I think I've decided. I think I have to go with..."

--------------------------------------------------------

*please note your answer will directly affect the story... not a lot, but something special will happen based on the winning theme! Please, choose your answer based on your personal feelings about each theme!

[amiramorozova]

Best Friends to Eternal Lovers - Moving in

A week felt longer than it should have as I packed my things but in time I'd been working on files trying to make sure everything was taken care of and the thing was..I didn't know what to think when it came to Baghra. When I looked into the mirror all I could think about was Baghra slapping me across the face and telling me I was a distraction all those years ago. 

I am not a distraction.. I thought 

I was still reeling over that but when Anna came to see me then I was looking back as I'd packed for her too.. "Amira.." Anna said as I looked back at her. I felt tears in my eyes as I wiped them knowing I never should have had to wait this long for my life with Aleksander as I smiled and went over to Anna. "We're gonna go somewhere away ok." I said as she was bullied by the other kids and I didn't want that. 

Daniel was preparing but I wondered just how much Aleks had to get through before the end of the week. 

Aleksander's pov: 

Having that time with Amira was better than the last few times that we'd found each other and every time it led to us sleeping together. As I was in the carriage heading back I knew there were things I needed to prepare for. Like my mother and the King..I needed to make sure the King didn't know my fiancé is a Sun Summoner..the last thing I wanted was to have her fixing my mistake. 

I'll find another Sun Summoner to fill that spot..I just have to get his approval to get her in and then she'll be put in a kefta in my color only. Anyone asks..it's classified.. I thought but then there was mother..just thinking about her and Amira in the same area I tried to maintain my anger remembering what Amira told me four hundred years ago when I found her in that village. 

The idea that mother had been the whole reason I couldn't have her to begin with pissed me off but to know she called her a distraction. Amira was the whole reason I was doing this now, continuing this life so I could protect her and take her with me. When the carriage arrived I went and was told the King wanted to talk. 

I knew the timing was perfect as I walked to the grand palace as the King talked with me over a few subjects. Of course I agreed to attend to them before he asked if there was anything new that had come up. "Moi Tsar, I am happy to report I found a location that is taking in Grisha children and training them to be fighters." He said as the King looked of interest. "And who runs this orphanage?" He asked as I knew too well to keep it known. "My fiancé of many years. She's the owner and she's undergone similar training to myself as she's able to figure out and bring Grisha into their gifts..being Grisha herself." 

The interest the King took was unsettling but he seemed to go for this "Perhaps you could bring her to the fete..I'd love to meet her and discuss her working with us." The King said as that I could work with. "I have directly talked with her already, seems she gives the kids a choice and they're willingly choosing to come here..I asked her to move in with me next week." I mentioned as the King nod in approval. "Yes, well I look forward to meet ing her if she's supporting the cause." The King said as he dismissed the meeting. 

I walked away with a smirk knowing I knew more about what was going on then he did. Now I just had to make the final arrangements for her as I headed to mother's hut and walked in there. She was finishing up with a lesson and once they left she looked at me. "And what do I owe the visit?" She asked as she always disrespected me no matter how old I was. 

"I am here to give you a warning. I found her, I am not giving her up and you will not push her off this time mother. She's moving in with me by the end of the week and that is final." I said as I had loved Amira since I was seventeen and I never really stopped loving her. I knew she felt the same considering every time we reunited her first instinct was to kiss me. "I can't promise that.." Baghra said 

"I hear of you slapping her like you did when she was sixteen and there will be consequences." I said as a warning then left as I needed to make adjustments with my bedroom now. She'd still be doing her work for the Orphanage so I made sure there was an extra desk in the room she could work in. After everything was done it was just waiting for the end of the week and then when the day came I went and got in the carriage..but I was stuck with the youngest Pirnce Nikolai and so I had to bring him along.

Amira's pov: 

The week was killer in waiting as I'd taken care of all the arrangements and I'd done everything that I needed to but I was hesitant to leave. Grandma though took all the work I had in my hands and kept hold of it as I looked at her. 

"Enough, you've waited four hundred years for this opportunity to be his wife and to live with him. We gave you the blessing to do what you wanted a long time ago." Grandma said as she knew just what to say to help me. "But Grandfather is.." 

Grandfather walked in the room and seen us as I looked at him knowing that his amplifier was weakening everyday and not only that my mother, my sister, my brother..they'd all start to age soon. The moment mom started to age dad was clear he'd give up summoning and then it'd be me, Grandma and the descendants of my siblings if they had any as he looked at me. "If you don't go move in with the love of your life I will not be able to rest when it is time. I am inferni, I should have died a long time ago." He said 

He's not wrong.. I thought 

I heard the sound of the carriage outside before I fully could process everything but I wanted to make something to go with us. I ran to the kitchen and remembered the dessert I made the first time in the hut. His expression that day we spent together for the first time in years when it was just us as friends. They were easy to make as I heard him talking to grandma. "Hello Lady Catalina, where is Amira?" He asked as her kind voice answered. "She's in the kitchen." She said 

the cookies I was making were baking as I focused on making sure they didn't burn but I watched and I heard his footsteps as he walked in and hugged me. "What are you making?" He asked as he moved my hair and placed kisses on my neck. I closed my eyes as I enjoyed times like these, the beard he had scratched against my skin. "Something I haven't made in a long time." I said 

He lifted his head up as I felt him remove his lips from my neck and he whispered "Well that I haven't smelled in a long time." I smiled as I knew it was true. Once they were ready I pulled them out and let them cool as I got the container to take them with us and I packed up half of them to take with us as he pulled me close and held me. Some of the kids peeked in and seen us as I looked. 

"Miss Amira..are you leaving?" One of the kids as sked as I looked at Aleks knowing I was but I wasn't going to be gone. "I have some meetings arranged I have to go to but I'll be back occasionally." I said as they smiled and ran. 

This place is all they have and the kids look up to me..can I really do this? I thought 

He lifted my head up to look at  him as he smirked "You're not changing your mind, are you?" He asked as I looked at him knowing I'd always wanted to be with him. "No, I'm not." I assured him as he nod. "Good because the King wants to meet with you about the orphanage." He said which caught my attention. 

I finished up and set the other half out for the kids to have when they wanted as we left and I heard Anna crying. We both went over and seen Nikolai and Anna were talking but Anna was upset over something. Putting the container in my bag I went over and calmed her down. "It'll be ok..remember you're coming with. What's upset you?" I asked but she was just quiet and hugged me. 

I looked at the young prince wondering if he said something to upset her and even then I had no right to talk to him. Aleks on the other hand took him aside and talked with him where I couldn't hear them then once Anna was calm I had her come along. Daniel was at the front door ready as we got in and waited for Aleks who walked in. I saw the Prince get up by the man in charge of the horses and we both got in and the door closed as we headed for the little palace. 

"Seems that there's been a misunderstanding between Anna and Nikolai.." He said as I nod in understanding. "Oh I see.." I said as the ride was quiet before we arrived. When we did we all got out as Aleks had Nikolai take Anna to her room which I found out was in his hallway and then we led Daniel to his own before he took me back to his room. 

When we reached the black doors he looked at me then smiled as he opened the door and I walked in seeing the way things were. His room was dark but he led me around and shown he had two desks in there when he decided to work on his own work in his room and Grandma was arranging me to get work sent every two weeks so it worked out. He showed me the closet where I could hang my clothes that I had with me and I did then went out to the table he had and put the container down. 

As I finished he turned me around as we kissed and I felt him take the ring on my hand off as I looked at him confused. "Aleks, that's my ring." I said as he looked at it knowing it was old and he walked away. "I know, and it's worth what I paid for it back then but you deserve better. I told you that originally when I gave you it that I'd get you something better." He said as he never directly asked me to marry him we just claimed to be each other's fiancé..

When he walked back over he held my hand with a box in his hand and I looked at him knowing I was just fine with the other ring. He kneeled down as he opened the box and I gasped seeing it was similar but so much more. "Amira Silina, will you marry me?" He asked as I was in shock

"Yes, Aleks.." I said as I was not expecting it but he was clear on his intentions as he slid the ring where the other one had stayed for four hundred years. They were similar but not the same this one seemed like it was stronger than the last one. Aleks showed me the other one I used to wear all the time "This one was cracking..it would have broke on you eventually probably cut you, the one you wear now is stronger. Made by the best fabrikators here." He said as I was just in shock.

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[thelongforgottenrealm]

GODFREY CALANION, EARL OF HANTHOM / LUKE EVANS

♛ Age: (37) ♛ Relationships: Tristan Calanion (brother), Amira Varmont (sister), Roderick Varmont (brother-in-law), Edmund Varmont (nephew), Ciara Varmont (fiancée), Barthololmew Varmont (future father-in-law), Eion Varmont (future brother-in-law), Aleksander Royce, Alaric Varmont (best friends)

super ambitious!!!! (honestly would have loved to be roderick when he grows up)

but for now he will settle for the generous earldom roderick has bestowed upon him here in asteria ahead of his impending marriage

certainly has enjoyed the many perks that have come with one's sister being married to the most powerful man in the world, but godfrey has never been one to settle

literally always scheming and has great plans to one day be the future emperor's hand, once his nephew is seated upon the throne

adamantly believes edmund should rule after his father -- and not just because he's the only one of roderick's children that is his own family (godfrey believes arthur to be an idiot and he would never trust a woman to rule)

very charming!!! very outgoing!!!

likes to have fun and enjoys drinking and gambling (within reason) and can be rather competitive, so any chance to show off you can count that godfrey shall jump upon it

very popular with the ladies

has lots of friends, but trusts very few of them with anything of real importance

an exception to this is certainly aleksander royce, to whom godfrey owes his life

alek once saved godfrey's life on the battlefield and godfrey means to repay this debt one day (his gratitude has blinded him to the fact that alek is probably one of the least trustworthy people at court)

currently engaged to the king's cousin, ciara, who is the wealthiest woman in the land -- the king's own daughters aside

eager for her to be his wife, but less enthused that she is being allowed to help spy on the rebels

he understands her circumstances gave her an ideal situation for such a job, but he would never trust a woman with such an important task, nor would he put her in such a dangerous position

loyal, methodical, exacting, intelligent

TAKEN BY KATE AA.