#Florence is wilting

[puriteenism]

I’m so mean to my mom

For context, I got an injury on my arm and neck. It’s getting better but I needed to really rest it.

my mom told me to go and take the bin out, and I was upset because my neck and arm hurt. I did it bc I had to but I was rlly upset. Our bin bags are rlly heavy and you have to throw it in

I am now in a lot of pain and came back complaining about it. She said sorry but it didn’t sound sincere, it felt like the kind of sorry that parents give to make u shut up.

and I pressed the issue, because it really hurt. And my mom got really angry and yelled that she was sick and that she was grieving. (My grandma passed away and my mom hasn’t been feeling well about it). She called me ungrateful and said that I didn’t realise how much she was going through.

so I felt angry but also bad. And she came to me and started lecturing me. When she’s mad she starts lecturing me on all the stuff that I’ve done wrong (the dishes, studying, church etc) so I brought up how making me do labour intensive chores when I’m healing from an injury then not properly apologising wasn’t nice either

and then she talked a lot about how sad and alone and miserable and grieving she was, and I brought up how whenever she talked so much about how much she was affected by this and venting to me, her preteen daughter, made me really uncomfortable/ worried. Now this makes me feel bad, but her venting can be really worrying (saying she wanted to unalive herself, crying a lot, ect) and that’s when she stopped being angry and said sorry for the garbage thing. She sounded rlly bad (I’m low-key scared about her mental health)

I feel bad. But also upset at her. But also petty, bc i feel like I was making a big fuss about nothing, esp to a grieving single mother who just came back from a long shift and he’s to deal with 2 kids. But also upset at her bc my injuries were on track to healing and her trauma dumping is really hard for me.

She’s been nothing but nice since the argument.

I’m a mess rn.

[theblueflower05]

Heavy In Your Arms

A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.

Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader

I was a heavy heart to carry,

My beloved was weighted down.

My arms around his neck,

My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine

Life can change in an instant.

One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.

You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.

Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.

That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.

Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.

By war.

High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.

It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.

The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.

You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.

It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.

It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.

The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.

You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.

The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle

This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.

But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.

You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.

Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.

Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.

You dont know if you could survive it…

Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?

The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.

“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”

“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”

“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”

Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”

You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.

Everyone has gotten good at pretending.

At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-

You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.

Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.

“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.

“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”

You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.

“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.

She looks so much like her brother it hurts.

“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”

Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.

You figure, maybe you can distract her too.

You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-

You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.

“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”

She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.

The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-

The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.

Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.

There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.

Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”

Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.

“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.

The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.

Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-

Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.

“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.

Your eyes follow her,

Straight to him.

Neteyam.

He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.

When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.

Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-

“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.

-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.

It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.

You’re unwelcome.

The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.

“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”

Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.

You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-

You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.

The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.

You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.

Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.

It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.

You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.

That is what you told yourself at least.

This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.

It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.

That wouldnt be you.

For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.

You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.

So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.

You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-

Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.

Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.

“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.

As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.

“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”

He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”

“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”

Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”

You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.

The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.

“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”

“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”

Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-

“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.

Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”

You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.

It’s the perfect excuse.

“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”

A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.

“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”

You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.

“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”

Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.

You’re being so stupid.

Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-

You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.

“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”

He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.

“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.

It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”

And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.

Its always so good.

His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.

His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-

And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.

“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”

He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”

“Im hurting you” you argue.

“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”

You frown.

He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”

Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”

“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”

You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.

“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”

Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”

It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.

The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.

You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.

You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.

“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.

“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.

It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.

But oh, its your favorite thing.

Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.

You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.

“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”

“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”

You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.

You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.

He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.

“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”

Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.

You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.

When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-

“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-

You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.

His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-

“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”

Ah.

Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.

You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.

When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.

“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”

His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.

“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.

He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”

You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.

With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.

You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.

“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.

That is what you adore the most.

The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.

You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..

You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.

It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.

“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.

“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.

It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”

He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.

It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.

You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.

You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.

Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that

“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.

It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.

“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”

He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”

You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.

“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.

And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”

“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”

“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”

He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.

“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.

“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.

Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.

You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”

Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.

Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.

The afterglow is your favorite.

Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-

It’s not fair,

How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?

The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.

“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”

You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”

You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”

“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.

“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.

“I promise”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.

They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.

The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.

You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.

When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.

Neteyam leaves.

You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.

I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.

This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.

As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!

Love ya, pretty babies!

[chuellas]

Canon | In which the events of canonverse BSD take place.

⤷ Ft. Sheep/ADA!Arabella x Nakahara Chuuya

‪꒰ Enemies -> Lovers ‪꒱ ‪꒰ Childhood Friends ꒱ ‪꒰ Found Family ꒱ ‪꒰ Red & Blue Color Coded Pair ꒱ ‪ ꒰ Belated Love Epiphany ꒱ ꒰ Lost Love ꒱

A girl wilted from losing all that she had finds a boy who never had anything to begin with. Like a magnet for bad luck, the girl inevitably loses the boy when she is led to believe a supposed betrayal had transpired. The boy is led to believe that he is dead to her, not knowing that in her mind he really is dead. Years later they stumble upon one another and what should be a pleasant reunion quickly grows sour.

Playlist

Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish ⋆ Softcore by The Neighbourhood ⋆ Please Be Rude by Gigi Perez ⋆ Harpy Hare by Yaelokre ⋆ The Greatest by Billie Eilish ⋆ Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine ⋆ Wildflower by Billie Eilish ⋆ Ma Meilleure Ennemie by Stromae, Pomme ⋆ I Love You by Billie Eilish

‪꒰ Beast AU Chuella ‪꒱ ‪꒰ Sheep King AU Chuella ‪꒱ ꒰ PM AU Chuella ꒱

[dusk-legion-diplomacy]

Coming Home

"HUUUUUUGOOOOOOO!"

Paws pounded on the cobbled pathway that lead to the manor house. A large mastiff, face flopping with every step, bounded into view, leaping onto the paladin as he dismounted from his horse. Arturo laughed and gently gripped the loose skin around his face.

"There's my big boy!" he said, gently smacking his side. "My big slobbery little war-beast! Hello! I am very happy to see you too." The mastiff barked and panted, leaping and licking at Arturo's face and covering him in slobber. Arturo wiped it off with the back of his hand, grimacing a little.

"Welcome home, master Arturo," said a man dressed in rough-looking clothing. Soil covered his knees and the gloves he was wearing. Other than that, he looked relatively neat and put-together. His hair was kept short and out of the way, starting to fade into grey. His skin was creased with age, but not from undo stress. He looked at Arturo with a genuine smile on his face.

"Florence!" Arturo greeted. "It has been too long. How goes the harvesting?"

"Well, though we lost out on our turnip crop this year," Florence answered. "The orchards and vineyards have had good yields thus far."

"Good, good." Arturo smiled. "How's the family?"

"Doing very well, Rosa is going to be going to an academy in the spring." Florence whistled and Hugo went to heel at his side, still panting and excited.

"She is? Congratulations," Arturo said, his brows raised. "Are my parents here?"

"They are and waiting for you. You can find them in the gardens, they're trying to enjoy the weather before it turns too cold," Florence said. "Are these guests?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, these are friends and allies," Arturo said.

"Including the one inside the bucket?"

"That is Vasro, he is under my personal protection," Arturo answered. "So, yes, including him."

"I will ensure they are granted lodgings, if we have enough for them," Florence said, looking and sounding a bit weary. "And if we have enough food..."

"If we do not, Vasro may be able to help," Arturo said with a grin. He patted the back of the human. "I'll go get situated with my parents."

"Good luck, master," Florence said. "You'll need it."

Arturo's face turned a bit grim. He patted his side and Hugo started trotting alongside him.

---

The trees in the garden had leaves flecked with orange and gold, some of the bushes also showing the turning of leaves with the seasons. Flowers had already begun to wilt and prepare for harsher weather, though some still stretched upward toward the sun.

Arturo's boots clanked upon the polished stone pathway that led into the heart of the garden, where two finely dressed figures sat. They talked quietly amongst themselves, looking into a small artificial pond. A number of small fish darted around within it, occasionally breaching the surface to devour a bug or two. Hugo had been sent away for dinner so Arturo could have his conversation in peace.

The pair wore the usual black-and-gold that Torrezon had been known for. The woman wore a short, puffy gown that was threaded through with filigree, while the man wore a more simplistic looking black overcoat, white shirt, and breeches. Upon his back was the Vazante familial rose, woven with metallic thread. It was the woman who turned first, her face beginning to show the first signs of aging. Her hair was kept back and up, her eyes bright as she saw Arturo.

"There's my darling boy," she said, rising and stepping around the stone bench she had been sat upon.

"Hello, mother," Arturo said, coming forward and giving her a hug.

"We've missed you," said Caterina. The man, Lisuarte, stiffly rose to his feet, joining them as they parted. There was a dark look to him. His moustache and beard were thicker than Arturo's own, and a bit more finely tended. His long hair was pinned and tied.

"Father," Arturo greeted stiffly.

"Arturo," Lisuarte said. "We have much to discuss. Join us, would you?" He swept a hand out to where a stone bench sat not too far from the one they had been occupying. Arturo nodded and sat on the bench as his parents did the same.

"We've heard about your expedition," his mother said. "I am terribly sorry it had to go so badly."

"It was not a total failure," Arturo said dismissively. "The Saint herself is going to help pursue the moonsilver lead. And we did get some very potent allies."

"Yes. 'Allies'." Lisuarte's face and voice was dark. Arturo swallowed uneasily. "One of whom is being called your son."

"Father-"

"Did you have a bastard?" Lisuarte asked directly. Arturo paused, then burst out into laughter. His father scowled. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Father, I have-" Arturo had to take a moment to stop laughing. "I have never laid with anyone who could possibly get pregnant. Koda is not even of this plane. He is a planeswalker." He kept snickering and laughing, taking a moment to calm down. His father looked far less than amused.

"So you have adopted then?" he asked.

"Not in any formal sense," Arturo answered. "I do not intend to. Koda and Vasro-"

"There are two of them?"

"Let me finish." Arturo put up a hand. "Koda and Vasro have enough to worry about without getting entangled into our familial politicking. Any time you hear them called my 'sons', know that it is a... colloquialism. Not literal."

Lisuarte's face soured. Caterina took his hand and gently squeezed it.

"Are you still with that cleric?" his mother asked. Arturo nodded.

"I intend to marry him the moment I return to Alta Torrezon," he declared, looking as fearless as possible despite the panic running through his mind. "We were supposed to be wed about two nights ago, but-"

"So you have chosen surrogacy," Lisuarte cut in curtly. Caterina squeezed his hand again.

"Darling, must we do this now?" she asked quietly. Arturo looked at his father, straightening his posture.

"I thought you were informed of Aurelio's plan to break us apart," he said.

"I am. Aurelio has been dealt with," Lisuarte replied. "He was embezzling money, anyway. He has been cut from the inheritence."

"As he should have decades ago," Arturo said with a snort. He crossed his arms. "You still have Valentina, Calisto, and Silvio if you're looking for young heirs."

"They are not our children, Arturo," Lisuarte replied. "You are. It makes us look-"

"Damn how it makes us look!" Arturo roared, standing.

"Arturo, please, calm down," Caterina said.

"No! I am not going to entertain this any longer!" Arturo stated. "I have been fighting just to get some damn acceptance from you for years. I have finally found the one I love most dearly. I would have expected some support and appreciation in my choice of partner!"

"You are with a cleric," Lisuarte said, his scowl deepening. "We are a Legion family."

"I know that is not the real reason why you object," Arturo growled. "I know that your mother was also clergy. You have a problem because I am with a man and I do not want to give you children."

"Is it so wrong to want to see the family continue to flourish?" Lisuarte snapped.

"There are others! You spit on Cas and Dinas by not entertaining their own children as viable," Arturo said.

"Because you still live, Arturo," Lisuarte answered.

"And I have chosen the one I wish to spend the rest of my life with," Arturo snapped. "If we ever have children -- If, mind you -- we will more than likely adopt. Neither of us are comfortable with surrogacy. I have told this to you several times over. I tire of telling you again."

"Arturo, please," his mother said pleadingly. "Sit down and take a breath. We don't need to shout over all of this."

Arturo glared at his father, but did as his mother asked.

"There is a certain expectation that comes with being the leading heir, Arturo," Lisuarte said evenly.

"I do not care for those expectations," Arturo spat. "I want to be with the man I love. I will be with him, with or without your approval. Disown me if you want, I have enough Legion backing to get by without the family coffers."

"Oh, Arturo, don't say that," Caterina said with a sigh. "Look, Lisuarte, maybe he has a point. Valentina has not yet committed herself, and Calisto and Silvio could make for fine suitors."

"Now you side with him?" Lisuarte asked with a sneer.

"I want our boy to be happy," Caterina said. "I tire of this arguing. I am tired of having to convince you that he is in love with this man and that pressuring him to change isn't going to work. Look at him! Don't you see that same fiery love that we shared all those years ago?" She gestured to Arturo, who was still bristling in defiance.

"I cannot believe what I am hearing."

"Aurelio poured poison into your ears, father," Arturo said. "Since when did we care about the purity of lineage? Our family has always proven ourselves by deeds first. Aurelio turned into those soft-handed fools who prance around like idiots. You are different." His face hardened. "Or you were different."

Lisuarte tensed at that, lips peeling back. "You dare call me soft-handed?"

"If it means getting you to realize that this isn't how our family was meant to work, then so be it," Arturo spat. "You have softened. Now all you care for is maintaining appearances. I have done nothing but brought tales of honor and glory to our name, following in yours and mother's example. I continue to do so, even knowing that my own father despises me because of who I love. And I will continue in spite of that very fact regardless."

Lisuarte's look could turn a man to stone, but Arturo met his gaze with cold determination. His mouth twitched.

"You think I despise you?" he asked.

"How else am I supposed to take the questioning and arguments?" Arturo snapped.

"I never despised you," Lisuarte said. "I only did this for your own good. Because I want what is best for you."

"Strange way of showing it," Arturo said with a huff. "'Let me lambast my son for his beloved and try and force him out of his relationship'." Arturo saw his father wince, and look away.

"It's true, Arturo," he said, his voice softening. "I only do all of this and fight you because I want you to be able to flourish. Families matter. Deeds can take one far, but-"

"Families only should matter to those who are in them, not those who are out," Arturo said, cutting him off. "Lazaro is one of the most giving and caring men I have ever met in my life. His generosity, intelligence, passion, every singular aspect about him is perfect just the way it is. I wish to bring him into our family because I know he will be a perfect fit for us. His deeds match and even exceed my own. He's been recognized by the damn pontifex, for the love of everything." He sighed. "I love him. I love him so much that my soul aches when he is away. I want to be with him, to hold him and protect him until the end of days if possible, and then into the eternity beyond." He looked down. There was a silence that followed.

"You love him this much?" Lisuarte asked. "Truly?"

"I have always loved him," Arturo answered. "Ever since I first met him, I knew I would fall in love with him. I knew I had to make him mine someday."

Caterina looked at her husband. They exchanged looks, and she nodded.

"I suppose there is no point in arguing further," Lisuarte said with a deep sigh. "I... am sorry, Arturo. I did not want you to think I hated you for this. I mean it when I say I only did this because I want to see you succeed. I want our family to succeed. I do not want us to become as my family did."

Arturo looked at his father, jaw working for a moment. "So you will give me your blessing?"

Lisuarte was silent for a long while. Caterina gently elbowed him.

"Yes. I will give you my blessing," he answered, though it came out awkwardly.

"Thank you," Arturo said. "I know that my being homosexual has been much to adjust to in these past few years."

"I always had an inkling, dear," Caterina said with a small chuckle. "Your father was in denial, but I had a feeling you were having a romp with at least one of the strapping young paladins in your companies."

"Mother!" Arturo said, flushing. Caterina giggled and covered her face while Lisuarte buried his own face in his hands.

"Caterina, dearest, must you?"

"Oh, you're just being a tired old curmudgeon," Caterina said with another light laugh. "It was very obvious if you knew what to look for. The way you looked at... what was his name? Fabian?"

"Fabian?" Arturo asked. "You thought I was in a relationship with Fabian?"

"Maybe not a serious one, but you two definitely had something going on," Caterina answered. Arturo now covered his face with a hand. "Am I wrong?"

"... We shared only one night together. And that was over sixty years ago, mother," Arturo said with a groan. "Now I know how Lazaro feels..."

"Oh, come now, it's a mother's duty to tease her children," Caterina said with another giggle.

"Can we please change the subject?" Lisuarte asked. "I am not interested in the sexual exploits of my son."

"You would be, if I were laying with women," Arturo muttered.

"I can assure you that no, I would not," Lisuarte stated.

"I heard your conversations with Cas when we were younger."

"That was educational, Arturo. So that he would not be having bastards out of wedlock," Lisuarte told him. "I had the same conversations with you."

"Actually, that was mother," Arturo said with a small 'hmmph'. Lisuarte glowered at him, and Caterina laughed again.

"Alright, you two, stop it," she said, sighing. "Do you two still hate each other? Can we act like a family again?"

"Fine," Arturo grumbled.

"Yes. The matter is settled," Lisuarte said, though he looked slightly displeased. "It was mentioned you were coming with guests. Is your..." he paused. "husband, with you?"

"No. He had to remain in Alta Torrezon while we ventured out to deal with an issue in the Deoro," Arturo said. "But there are others who you can meet. I also wish to properly introduce Hugo to Vasro and the others."

"How long will you be staying?" Caterina asked.

"Just for the night, if that is fine with you," Arturo answered. "I want to get back as soon as possible."

"Are we not invited to your wedding?" his mother asked, pressing a hand to her chest. "I am offended."

"Considering that I only just now got some form of begrudging acceptance," Arturo said, looking to his father, "no, you had not been invited. But if you do not mind making the trip there -- and making it back alone, because we have other plans shortly after we are wed -- then... I suppose you can come."

"Oh, I think I know just the thing I will wear," Caterina said, standing. "Lisuarte, you are coming to support our boy." His father looked less than pleased, but also resigned. "Will you be wed the day you arrive? Or would there be time for us to get things together?"

"I'm not sure," Arturo answered. "I would like to get a gift for Lazaro beforehand. I was commissioning it right before I was called to action."

"Then we will leave as soon as possible. I doubt we'll be able to join you in the morning, but we should leave by nightfall," Caterina said. "If not then, tomorrow morning for certain." From the crossed arms and stern look Lisuarte was giving, Arturo got a different idea, glancing down at the sword belted by his side.

"I think Vasro could also use his lenses to show you the ceremony so you don't have to travel all that way," Arturo said, rubbing the back of his neck. He would rather avoid having his glaring father ruin the air around the ceremony.

"I would rather do that," Lisuarte said with a snort. "I do not wish to see the capital right now. I am content staying home."

"Whatever makes you more comfortable," Caterina said with a wistful sigh. "I can still wear my dress. And the next time you come around, we'll have a proper banquet prepared."

"I appreciate it," Arturo said with a small smile.

"Now, why don't you introduce me to your new friends, hm?" Caterina said with a smile. "I'd especially like to meet my new 'grandkids'."

"As you wish..." Arturo said, already feeling as though any bit of intimidating or coolness he had associated with him was about to fly right out the window. He stood and walked with his mother to where everyone else was presently being told to politely wait while lodgings were prepared.

Well, it was a mother's right to embarrass her children.

[kimosims]

There was a well-known saying in high society, one even the most no-gossip types couldn’t help but whisper. "There’s nothing darling about the Darlingtons," they’d mutter to one another the moment a member of the infamous family entered any rare event worth their attention. Never to their faces, of course. Cold as they were, the Darlingtons held far too much power for anyone to dare cross them, even in the slightest. Not that they would care.

However, Albert Leopold Darlington, the youngest of the Earl's four sons, seemed born to defy that belief. He entered the world in the shadow of tragedy, blamed by his brothers for their mother’s death during childbirth. The already distant and severe Darlington household grew even colder, with Albert finding himself not only neglected by his absent father but also tormented by his elder siblings. Life in that vast, austere estate was difficult, to say the least.

Yet, amidst this frigid atmosphere, Albert found solace in the company of the estate’s female servants. His clingy, yet undeniably charming nature won over their affection easily, and they, in turn, provided the warmth that the men of the household so harshly withheld. They would pat his hair and whisper reassurances, calling him a "good boy," allowing him fleeting moments of comfort in an otherwise unforgiving world.

As the years flowed by, Albert’s innocent fascination with femininity blossomed into a deeper, more romantic yearning, drawing him ever further from the path his family had carved for him. Where his brothers found purpose in land management and social dominance, Albert sought refuge in the arts. He poured his spirit into painting and music, enchanting the women of high society with his striking good looks and his profound sensitivity. In a family of hard-edged, pragmatic men, Albert stood apart, his very presence exuding the softness and introspection that the Darlington name seemed to lack.

To the unyielding Darlington men, however, his artistic inclinations were nothing short of ruinous. Every brushstroke and melody was a symbol of wasted potential, a harbinger of disgrace for the family’s name. As the youngest, it was expected that Albert would assume a clerical role, ensuring the Anglican benefits that would bolster their family’s influence. But the thought of such a monotonous existence—shackled by duty, rituals, and societal expectations—filled Albert with dread. He craved the freedom that only a life dedicated to the arts could offer, far removed from the oppressive weight of tradition.

Yet, his father’s decision was final. “You’ve enjoyed the last of your boyhood,” the Earl declared sternly. “Soon, you’ll cease your frivolities and become a real Darlington—a man of duty, not of whims.” The countdown to Albert's adulthood had begun, and with it, the crushing realization that his days of freedom were quickly slipping away.

Of all the children who had once roamed the Blythe estate, none had been as full of life and boundless energy as Florence Lily Blythe. She had danced through the halls of the grand yet decaying manor, her laughter echoing off walls that, even in her earliest memories, seemed a little emptier with each passing year. What had once been a home bustling with staff and grandeur slowly diminished; furniture would disappear without explanation, and the once-lush gardens wilted under neglect. At first, Florence’s youthful exuberance shielded her from the bleak reality, but as the years wore on, she could no longer ignore the steady decline surrounding her.

By the time she was old enough to understand, the harsh truth hit her like a cold wind: her father and eldest brother had gambled away the Blythe fortune. What was once a noble house, proud and prosperous, had been reduced to little more than a crumbling façade. The Blythes still held their titles, but they were nobles in name only, shunned by high society and forced to live on the fringes of the very world they were once part of. Their ruin wasn’t just financial—her father and brother had squandered not only their own wealth, but the money of other nobles, leaving the Blythes in irreparable disgrace.

This fall from grace weighed heavily on Florence, but none felt it more deeply than her mother, a woman of delicate constitution and spirit. Sensitive and fragile, she could not bear the shame and sorrow that engulfed their family. The constant humiliation, paired with the bitter isolation imposed by their peers, broke her. Overwhelmed by grief, Florence’s mother succumbed to a deep sadness, passing away and leaving Florence adrift in a house filled with anger and ignorance. The men in the family—drunk on both despair and literal spirits—took out their frustration on her, lashing out in their unhappiness while drowning themselves in liquor.

Florence’s salvation came in the unlikely form of her estranged aunt, a widow who had lost her husband early in life. With only one grown son to care for, Aunt Beatrice turned her attention to Florence, seeing in the girl a spark of the Blythe spirit that had not yet been extinguished. She swept in with the kind of calm authority only a seasoned widow could possess, pulling Florence from the ruins of her family and thrusting her into the high-stakes world of marriage. With what little wealth she had left, Aunt Beatrice dressed Florence for the marriage market and set her on the path toward restoring her family’s dignity.

But it wasn’t as simple as debuting in society and waiting for suitors to come calling. The Blythe name was tainted, and no amount of finery or charm could erase the scandal that followed it. During her first season, Florence had been a vision—radiant with youth and beauty, her modest grace attracting attention wherever she went. But the cruel reality of her situation quickly became clear. The only offers she received were from men seeking discreet mistresses, those who desired her beauty but wouldn’t dare risk their reputations by tying themselves to the fallen Blythe name. She had been prepared for whispers, for judgment, but the humiliating propositions shattered her optimism.

Now, in her third season, Florence had resigned herself to becoming a wallflower. The once-bright glow in her eyes had dimmed, her spirit weighed down by rejection after rejection. Even her substantial dowry, painstakingly put together by her aunt, was not enough to attract decent proposals. She lingered on the edges of ballrooms, a ghost of the vibrant girl she had once been, waiting for a fate that seemed increasingly out of reach.

That is, until Albert Leopold Darlington took notice. Unlike the others, he saw not just a dowry but an opportunity. Florence’s quiet beauty and her potential for freedom from his own familial shackles drew him closer. In Florence, Albert saw more than a tarnished name—he saw his own path to escape. And Florence, though wary, couldn’t help but be intrigued by the man who didn’t flinch at the mention of the Blythe name.

At one of the season’s many grand soirées, the weight of it all became too much for Florence. Once again, she found herself pressed into the corner of the ballroom, watching the glittering crowd swirl past as if she were invisible. Her gaze drifted to the large windows, where beyond the glass, the world seemed so quiet and serene. She longed to be out there, far away from the endless parade of gowns and whispers, in a place where her dreams of marriage and motherhood were more than just distant fantasies.

As the laughter and conversation grew louder, the flow of elegantly dressed guests too relentless to bear, Florence felt her chest tighten. She needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere, if only for a moment. Slipping away unnoticed, she made her way to the garden, hoping the cool night air would calm her frayed nerves. With each step further from the ballroom, the tension in her body slowly eased, and she breathed in deeply, relishing the stillness that surrounded her.

But tonight, unlike every other night when she had fled the stifling confines of the ballroom for solace in the garden, she was not alone. Unbeknownst to her, someone had followed her—none other than the most sought-after bachelor of the season, Albert Leopold Darlington.

Albert couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Marriage had never been something that occupied his thoughts, but the idea of a beautiful, sensitive woman who would allow him to live a life immersed in the arts seemed infinitely better than any future his father had laid out for him. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the striking beauty that the sorrowful woman under the ivy-covered archway in the garden had developed in the years since their first encounter. Always used to being the charming one in any interaction, Albert now found himself utterly smitten by the woman standing before him.

"Miss Blythe," he spoke softly, his voice carrying through the cool night air. "It’s such a lovely evening. What could possibly be so grave as to bring you to tears?"

"Oh, Mr. Darlington," Florence startled slightly at the sight of him stepping into view. "I must apologize for my lack of composure."

"I don't concern myself with such things," Albert replied, offering her his handkerchief with a small smile. "But you still haven’t answered my question."

And for some inexplicable reason, Florence couldn’t hold back. She poured out all of her sorrows, her doubts, her deepest frustrations—everything that had weighed so heavily on her heart.

"Goodness, look at me," she said at last, now free from tears. "Throwing all my troubles at the feet of a stranger. Forgive me, sir."

"But we’re not strangers," Albert said, his smile growing as he gently took her hands in his. "Or are you going to tell me that you’ve forgotten?"

Florence was taken aback. She hadn’t expected someone as busy and desired as Mr. Darlington to remember such a fleeting encounter. It had been during her first season, much like now, and she had slipped away from the ballroom, finding herself in an outdoor space that had a piano. Someone had been playing a lovely melody, and she couldn’t help but hum along. At the time, she thought it was a hired musician, but no—it was none other than Mr. Albert Leopold Darlington!

The moment she realized it, she had stopped singing immediately, her face flushing red like the darkest of roses, and she had quickly fled the scene. It had been such a small, insignificant moment—or so she had thought. Yet him remembering it now stirred something in her heart, something that had long since been dormant.

"I could never forget a voice like yours," Albert said softly, his eyes locking onto hers with a playful glint. "In fact, I’ve been wounded all these years, Miss Blythe, thinking I wasn’t nearly as memorable to you as you were to me."

Florence blinked, startled by the unexpected warmth in his tone. "Surely, Mr. Darlington, you don’t expect someone like me to leave much of an impression on someone like you."

"But you did," he replied with a smile, a teasing lilt in his voice. "And it’s been a terrible burden to carry, knowing I’ve been so easily forgotten."

In that moment, something shifted inside Florence. The playful way he spoke, the sincerity hidden just beneath the surface of his words—it was undeniable. Standing there under the moonlight, in the quiet of the garden, she realized she was completely and utterly captivated by Mr. Albert Leopold Darlington.

Their marriage came swiftly after the courtship that followed in the days after that fateful night. Albert’s father had been staunchly against the union from the very start, issuing a clear ultimatum: if Albert dared to tarnish the Darlington name by becoming involved with the ruined Blythe girl, he would be disinherited and cast out forever. Albert, in his youthful arrogance, saw this as a wonderful proposal. His immaturity prevented him from fully understanding what a life without the luxuries he had grown accustomed to truly entailed. All he could think of was the freedom he believed he was finally attaining.

Mr. Darlington and the newly titled Mrs. Darlington quickly departed for Brindleton Bay, where Albert had promised a fresh start—humble yet liberating, far removed from the suffocating shadows of their former lives. Florence had longed for a sanctuary beside a man who made her feel cherished and vibrant, while Albert sought the freedom to create, away from the expectations of his family.

They secured a bank loan that allowed them to purchase a charming and sizable house by the sea. Albert envisioned his days spent painting, determined to build a reputation as a renowned realist artist, while Florence dreamed of filling their home with children—strong sons to carry their legacy and many daughters she could love and nurture.

But as these two young souls—barely past the threshold of youth—settled into their new life, they soon found themselves face-to-face with the weight of adulthood and its many responsibilities. Were they truly prepared for the challenges that lay ahead?

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 61: Fairy Brother Trivia

To learn about their roles in DCA, click here!

❤️ Florence

• The eldest fairy brother who loves to shop for anything red or pink. He is very much into jewelry trends and would have clippings from magazines into his journals to take note.

• His personality is more of a charming gentleman who is a social butterfly and is always up to date in trendy topics. He doesn't care if the clothes he's wearing are close to a dress, if he looks fabulous in it then he wears it, no questions. Much like Asher, he acts like an overprotective dad towards his students, even during events where RSA and DCA have held balls on either campus, he's always scanning the area to make sure the boys don't do anything rash to his precious students.

• Once met Divus during a fashion show and the two keep in touch from time to time. Though there were times Divus starts to contact him more often ever since Ella got enrolled into the school. And he's always kept tabs on her latest creations and he sends Divus pictures with her permission.

• Even though he and Asher may bicker from time to time, they do care about each other but it's a tough love kind of relationship between them. Their ideals and morals just always seem to clash and it leads to comical arguing.

• He absolutely loves flowers and sometimes the students place a lovely arrangement in the vase placed on his desk. He makes bookmarks and even would make flower crowns out of them.

• Florence has a small flowerbed full of roses and he named each one. Every time the flowers wilt and regrow into buds he addresses it with "(Flower name) II, III, IV..." and he will proceed to go up a number every spring. He keeps the flowerbed in his quarters.

• He can be seen snacking on strawberries during break. He likes chocolate-covered strawberries when buying his snacks.

💚 Faustus

• The second fairy brother that keeps to himself sometimes. He does say something now and then but he likes to spectate rather than interact. He is a rather small-talk kind of guy. Doesn't say too much and won't make the first move at all.

• For some reason, he can't spend a single second in the kitchen without something catching on fire when it involved the stove or oven. Which is why his brothers insisted that one of them but him gets to use the kitchen. The only thing he could make was PB&J.

• His skills in music were so phenomenal that even the animals gathered and danced around whenever he starts music class.

• Secretly a bit of a troll who wants to watch the glorious chaos unfold. When Florence and Asher start yelling, he's sitting on his folding chair and munching popcorn. He got the idea to set up the “Asher vs. Florence” club and everyone but the two professors knew about its existence.

• Usually he wears a polite smile, but the thing that his brothers know is NOT to make any noise when he's napping or sleeping. He's very terrifying and will become such a menace that it almost looks like he's going to commit murder on the perpetrator.

• This is the only time the two would try to get along and even reschedule an argument at a later date in fear of facing Faustus' wrath.

• He loves a good tea party and can even be seen lounging around Futterwacken's tea table during lunch break. He likes sample platters, he thinks it's like a mukbang but it's the miniscule version.

💙 Asher

• The youngest of the fairy brothers who is the toughest out of them all. He gets along with Actius and they sometimes work out together and they even have arm wrestling competitions. They even took turns on the mechanical bull to see who can last the longest. Sometimes they play matador with it, purposely trying to make it angry and try to dodge it's large metal body.

• He is rather blunt and won't sugarcoat unless necessary or the situation is dire that being straightforward won't help. He isn't as strict as Mozus, he's just stern because he thinks logically that people will take advantage of someone who is innocent so he wants to open their eyes on reality, his views clashes with Florence's who thinks that girls don't have to always be tough to be taken seriously.

• Asher likes to drink a variety of alcoholic beverages. His favorite is vodka. Though when he isn't craving anything alcoholic, he'll sometimes get a root beer float. He is great at making the most aesthetically pleasing sundaes and floats when he feels a little hungry for something sweet. He dislikes eating plain ice cream and will bring out a lot of toppings and snacks to add to it.

• When he gets mad, he rolls up his sleeve and goes in to talk with his fists, it's instinct by this point and he has to be held back.

• Divus makes him nervous every time he smacks that whip, he thinks it's the sound it makes and how he can imagine how painful it would be if that hit someone.

[nervousladytraveler]

Fic title ask:

For All The Tea In China

The Dressmaker's Dilemma

@jomiddlemarch thank you for these. Such a fun diversion for a dull Saturday afternoon. Both my titles are Poldark based.

“For All the Tea in China”

Upset by what she understands to be a snub by Ross, Demelza returns to her place–and finds her resolve–in the kitchen.

Snippet:  “Fuck it. We’re having the rapini for dinner!” Demelza said aloud to nobody and slammed the slightly wilted bunch down on the work surface.

Dinner was hours away–in fact she was still preparing lunch–but this decision felt like an act of defiance, and that was precisely what she was in need of at the moment.

Ross, or Mister Poldark as he was to her today, disliked rapini. He hadn’t said it in so many words but the absence of praise the last time she served it allowed her to solve for x.

--AND---

“The Dressmaker's Dilemma” (also Poldark but not a modern AU).

Mistress Trelask, respected Truro dressmaker, stares down a very grave problem indeed. She has taken an order from Mrs. Francis Poldark for a lovely robe à l’anglaise of soft brown silk taffeta with sleeve ruffles and matching silk ribbons. But she has only now learned that her daughter, Miss Florence, has already fitted Mrs. John Treneglos for a quite similar gown (only fewer ruffles and no fichu). And both are to be ready in time for the upcoming ball at Place House.

Mistress Trelask must now decide which patron to disappoint while protecting her own reputation.

Snippet: No doubt, she’d lose the patronage of one of these fine ladies. And who might blame them? Such an insult to one’s standing to be jilted by a dressmaker! But on the one hand, there had been very few visits of late from Mrs. Poldark (soon to be Mrs. George Warleggan if the rumours are to be believed). And wasn’t it odd that she’d come out of mourning so soon?

[witchblade]

like at most she would dress like. i dont know. florence welch. or one of those people that desperately wish they were a wilting victorian protagonist going mad in an abandoned townhouse

[beauthief]

𝟓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄

Track 1: Labour by Paris Paloma

All day, every day Therapist, mother, maid Nymph then a virgin, nurse than a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger Twenty-four seven, baby machine So he can live out his picket fence dreams It's not an act of love if you make her You make me do too much labor

Track 2: Pretty Little Things by The Crane Wives

Don't buy me flowers It pains me to watch pretty little things wilt away Pretty little things wilt away Pretty little things wilt away There are lessons in life no one should have to learn But trust is now something I make people earn So I'm not inclined to just give it away

Track 3: Cop Car by Mitski

I want to jump into blue water And I miss riding horses, I miss running fast I miss riding horses, I miss running fast I was meant for running fast I pretended you were mine, It made me calm babe I am cruel, I am gentle, I can make you laugh I am cruel, I am gentle, I can make you laugh

Track 4: Queendom by AURORA

The underdogs are my lions The silent ones are my choir The women will be my soldiers With the weight of life on their shoulders Drink until you've had enough I'll drink from your hands I will be your warrior I will be your lamb

Track 5: King by Florence + the Machine

But a woman is a changeling, always shifting shape Just when you think you have it figured out Something new begins to take What strange claws are these scratching at my skin? I never knew my killer would be coming from within I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

Tagged by: @lovelornes (Thank you! This actually took me a bit cause I realized I hadn't found any songs that inspired my writing for Haru, so I had to go find some LOL) Tagging: @gyokushou, @foolisharcanum, @kckflips, @kingspuppet, @ultdete, @iiguess and anyone else interested!

[mysticstarlightduck]

10 Songs Tag!

Tagged by @tabswrites! Find her post here! Thanks so much for the song tag! I adore this kind of tag games, as songs are a very important part of my creative writing process (:

Rules: Use your WIP playlist and put it on shuffle. Write the first 10 songs that come up and quote your favorite lyrics from each song and/or the lyrics that fit your WIP best (they might be the same lyrics), then tag 10 people.

From my Tales of Wilted Flowers playlist!

Thus Always To Tyrants - The Oh Hellos

Over hill, over dale, through the valley and vale Do not weep, do not wail, I am coming home to you Every tomb, every sea, spit the bones from your teeth Let the ransomed be free as the revel meets the day Let the valleys awake, let them rattle and shake In the wind that remakes all that time has worn away

2. Brave New World - Kalandra

Stirrings in the wind Resonates a whisper from within Warnings from afar Telling you to heed the morning star Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air It's like a web there is no escape from It's got you trapped and you long for freedom Every wish every dream was granted Never knowing what they demanded You see the wall how it's getting higher You want to fight but you're all divided It's not a world anyone can thrive in Is this the world we were meant to grow in? Somebody tell me where are we going? A brave new world will rise If we do not act upon its lies Hold your tongues no more Learn from all the ones who came before

3. Traveller's Song - Aviators

Sing for the lost, for eternal affairs Sing to raise our spirits in great despair Through the ashes of oblivion Quick and unseen like the dragon's offspring For we owe no debts and bow to no king Every war has its costs and we've paid Won by the bond of the party we've made

Warn with a call that the battle starts now As the demons listen we strike them down Fighting back the rifts of blood Sent from the sky lies an angel in need Give him muse to strengthen and words to heed Heaven's doused and set alight We're knocking on the gates of hell tonight

4. Something I Could Never Be - Tony Ann, Wrabel (from my Rylisan Fenrith playlist. Sad Elf Boi Vibes)

Back when I was younger, doubt knocked at my door Asked me if I’m worthy and filled my head with words Like shouldn’t I be stronger and that boys shouldn’t cry If beauty’s for beholders, could you lend me your eyes? [...] Does anybody have it all? Can anybody set me free? When the midnight falls, I turn myself on me It hits me like a drop of ink, clouding everything I see But if I’m being honest All I ever wanted was something I could never be

5. Dear Wormwood - The Oh Hellos (from my Kaellel Nevarth playlist.)

And in my hour of weakness, you were there to see my courage fail For the years have been long, and you have taught me well to sit and wait Planning without acting, steadily becoming what I hate I know who you are now (x3) [...] I have always known you You have always been there in my mind But now I understand you And I will not be part of your designs I know who I am now And all that you've made of me I know who you are now And I name you my enemy

6. Breath of Life - Florence + The Machine

But I only needed one more touch Another taste of heavenly rush And I believe, I believe it so And I only needed one more touch Another taste of devouring rush And I believe, I believe it so Whose side am I on, whose side am I? [...] And I started to hear it again But this time it wasn't the end And the room was so quiet, oh And my heart is a hollow plain For the devil to dance again And the room was too quiet, oh I was looking for a breath of life A little touch of heavenly light But all the choirs in my head sang no

7. Hey Brother - Avicci, Cover by D'Artagnan (from my Eiralis & Kaellel playlist. Kaellel is her adoptive older brother and one of the dryads who took her in as a child.)

Hey brother Do you still believe in one another? Hey sister Do you still believe in love? I wonder Oh, if the sky comes falling down For you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do What if I'm far from home? Oh, brother, I will hear you call What if I lose it all? Oh sister, I will help you out Oh, if the sky comes falling down For you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

8. Princess Toyotomi - Celtic Woman

Days and years praying for our love, our future So silently kept inside our hearts so deeply Time went by never changed and stayed inside us so preciously... carrying all the love for you No one never would say a word 'bout the story we know never let the legend vanish No one ever would tell the truth... the secret we know, our long-cherished dream

9. The Witch of Briar Thorn - Karliene (from my Arista Bryar playlist)

I awoke to true love’s kill Pulled me out of sleep so still T’was the day the curse was born Heart twisted in briar thorn [...] I awoke to true love’s kill Pierced my heart with no blood spilled T’was the way the witch was born Now I kill with briar thorn

10. The Horror And The Wild - The Amazing Devil

You were raised by wolves and voices Every night I hear them howling deep beneath your bed They said it all comes down to you You're the daughter of silent-watching stones You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments In wonderment, at you and yours, forever asking more You are that space that's in between Every page, every chord, and every screen You are the driftwood and the rift You're the words that I promise I don't mean We're drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) They thought us blind (we were just blinking) All the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold "Remember me, " I ask "Remember me, " I sing Give me back my heart, you wingless thing

+ BONUS!

From my The Last Wrath playlist!

Because TLW has many characters and POV, I chose two for this game! And therefore I chose two of my all-time favorite characters from that WIP, Quinn Aurellen and Julyan Ashiren.

From Quinn Aurellen's Playlist -

For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert (slowed and reverb)

Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do? 'Cause it's about to get rough for you I'm here for your entertainment [...] Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet You thought an angel swept you off your feet Well, I'm about to turn up the heat I'm here for your entertainment [...] Take the pain, take the pleasure I'm the master of both

2. Addict - Hazbin Hotel, cover by Caleb Hyles

Yeah, you fell in love But you fell deeper in this pit (But you fell deeper in this pit) While death rains from above So count your blessings 'cause this is it You're not letting it go So what if I misbehave It's what everybody craves You already know So come if you're feeling brave And fancy yourself a mate You want it, I got it, see what you like? We could have it all by the end of the night Your money and power, my sinful delight A hit of that heaven and hell, a hell of a high

3. Rhythm of the Tambourine - Hunchback of Notre Dame

Dance, La Esmeralda, dance! Hey, soldier boy, I see how you stare Hey, butcher man, I see you admire Come gather 'round Hey, Jaques and Pierre! Come see me dance to the rhythm of the tambourine Flash of ankle Flip of a skirt Feel them excite, enflame and inspire Come see me dance, hey, what can it hurt? It's just a dance to the rhythm of the tambourine

4. Natural - Imagine Dragons

Will you hold the line When every one of them has given up and given in? Tell me In this house of mine Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me Will the stars align? Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin, will it? 'Cause this house of mine stands strong That's the price you pay Leave behind your heart and cast away Just another product of today Rather be the hunter than the prey And you're standing on the edge face up 'Cause you're a natural [...] Will somebody Let me see the light within the dark trees shadowing? What's happening? Looking through the glass find the wrong within the past knowing Oh, we are the youth Cut until it bleeds inside a world without the peace, face it A bit of the truth, the truth

5. Alive - SIA

I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go Where the wind don't change And nothing in the ground can ever grow No hope, just lies And you're taught to cry into your pillow But I survived [...] I found solace in the strangest place Way in the back of my mind I saw my life in a stranger's face And it was mine [...] I took what you gave But you never noticed that I was in pain I knew what I wanted, I went in and got it Did all the things that you said that I wouldn't I told you that I would never be forgotten And all in spite of you

6. Speechless - Naomi Scott, Cover by Peyton Parrish

I won't be silenced You can't keep me quiet Won't tremble when you try it All I know is I won't go speechless 'Cause I'll breathe When they try to suffocate me Don't you underestimate me 'Cause I know that I won't go speechless Written in stone Every rule, every word Centuries-old and unbending Stay in your place Better seen and not heard But now that story is ending

7. Buy the Stars - Marina and The Diamond, male cover

You bought a star In the sky tonight Because your life is dark And it needs some light You named it after me But I'm not yours to keep Because you'll never see That the stars are free Oh, we don't own our heavens now We only own our hell And if you don't know that by now Then you don't know me that well All my life, I've been so lonely All in the name of being holy Still, you'd like to think you know me You keep buying stars

8. Figure You Out - VÒILA

I could love you with my eyes closed Kiss you with a blindfold Figure you out I might hold you with my hands tied Show you I'm the right guy To figure you out  [...] I heard he got you some new friends With some big dreams, when will he learn That you already got your own?  [...] And I've been thinking Of all the little things That you've been missing When will you learn?

9. Saints - Echos

I'm sorry but your story isn't adding up Think your religion is a lie to keep my mouth shut So I won't testify the crimes you're keeping score of Why don't you throw me to the wolves? I thought you were one You were standing there like an angry god Counting out my sins just to cross them off Saying that my tongue was too loud to trust And that my blood couldn't keep you My dear, you're not so innocent You're fooling Heaven's gates So you won't have to change You're no saint, you're no savior

10. Burn The Witch - Shawn James

The flames lick at my feet Their hearts full of hate What they don't understand, they condemn What they can't comprehend must meet its end [...] But I won't scream, won't give them that satisfaction No, I won't confess my false interaction As I breathe deep and prepare for my passing I hear them chant, "Burn the witch"

From Julyan Ashiren's Playlist -

Hammer and The Anvil - The Longest Johns

And it's sparks a-flying, passion strong I am the blacksmith singing The hammer and the anvil song I thought to make a broadsword, for fighting on the field Much as I know the hammer is a nobler thing to wield For though us humble tradesfolk choose a quiet life The gods of war come to the door of the hammer and his wife And it's sparks a-flying, passion strong I am the blacksmith singing The hammer and the anvil song [...] Now all you merry blacksmiths, a warning take by me Stick to your country horseshoes and your anchors for the sea When the gods of war come calling, promising you gold They'll take your hammer, take your anvil, take your very soul

2. The Sun is Also a Warrior - Leslie Fish

"The sun is also a warrior. Knowledge can also destroy. Nor can the kindest will, Preserve you from the kill. Not all of wisdom brings joy." "Four of those five," the first one said, Are not enough to appease the dead. To save my world all this strife must cease, So now I bid you to conjure peace." The god said "Yes. Though it grieves me sore, For I was also a god of war, And I remember what you forget, Four of those five you may still regret."

3. Blood Upon the Snow - Hozier and Bear Mcreary

To all things housed in her silence Nature offers a violence The bear that keeps to his own line The wolf that seeks always his own kind The world that hardens as the harsher winter holds The parent forced to eat its young before it grows Every bird, gone unheard Starving where the ground has froze The winter sunrise, red on white Like blood upon the snow Like blood upon the snow [...] I've walked the earth and there are so few here that know How dark the night and just how cold the wind can blow I've no more hunger now to see where the road will go I've no more kept my warmth Than blood upon the snow

4. Just a Man - Epic The Musical

Will these actions haunt my days Every man I've slain? Is the price I pay endless pain? Close your eyes and spare yourself the view How could I hurt you?

[...]

But when does a comet become a meteor? When does a candle become a blaze? When does a man become a monster? When does a ripple become a tidal wave? When does the reason become the blame? When does a man become a monster?

5. Play With Fire - Sam Tinnesz ft. Yatch Money

Insane, inside The danger gets me high Can't help myself Got secrets I can't tell [...] My speed goes in the red Hot blood (hot blood), these veins (these veins) My pleasure is their pain I love to watch the castles burn These golden ashes turn to dirt 

[...]

Rite of passage, classic havoc Match in the gas tank, ooh, that's wretched Unstoppable, legendary animal 

6. Last Words - Solaria, Vocaloid

May the winds carry forth My soul when I'm gone May the harsh of the storm Never linger for long May the birds ever fly Where their journey leads them May the land and the skies Be ever blessed with freedom Come, gather 'round and I'll spin you a tale One of tyranny, of humble dreams and those who prevail It starts with a hopeful young bard and a song Through his melodies The wicked king, he wouldn't rule long

A kingdom of isolation Is as glorious as a prison With a feather of eagle The bard was entranced As a sliver of freedom Before him, it danced

7. Scars - Boy Epic

Can you see my scars? Can you feel my heart? This is all of me, for all of the world to see So, who's it gonna be? The one that you only need? I gave it all, and all you gave was sweet misery So, who's gonna save us now? When the ashes hit the ground? I gave it all, but all you gave was sweet misery This is the end My beloved friends I'm lost in dreams And all I know is where I've been Run, love I'm the truth that you're afraid of I'm a fever, that you made up Just a martyr, on a bridge that's burning down

8. Brother - Needtobreathe

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you're low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

Face down in the desert now There's a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can't reach that far I ain't made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong But it's your love that brings me home

9. City of the Dead - Eurielle

I'm scared of what's inside my head, what's inside my soul I feel like I'm running but getting nowhere Fear is suffocating me, I can't breathe I feel like I'm drowning, I'm sinking deeper White light fades to red As I enter the city of the dead

[...]

I feel it burning through my veins, it's driving me insane The fever is rising, I'm going under Memories flash before my eyes, I'm losing time The poison is killing me, taking over White light fades to red As I enter the city of the dead

10. I'll Be Good - Jaymes Young

For all of the times that I never could My past has tasted bitter for years now So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told I've been cold, I've been merciless

But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today I'll be good, I'll be good

For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I doubt For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears For all of the things that I've done All these years, no, yeah For all the sparks that I stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt

I'll be good, I'll be good

Tagging: @writernopal, @cabbojage, @unstablewifiaccess, @rickie-the-storyteller, @clairelsonao3, @late-to-the-fandom and @exquisitecrow

[koemiokano]

Name: Koemi Okano.

Alternative Names: Emi to any of her close friends.

Age: Thirty-Two.

Gender/Pronouns: cis Female, She/Her.

Ethnicity: Japanese & White.

Occupation: Realtor, specializes in the creepy and disturbed housing market.

Neighborhood: Downtown Briar Ridge.

Education: Bachelor's degree in accounting. No, really, actual accounting.

Playlist: Dogs Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine / Up the Wolves - The Mountain Goats / Reckless Lover - Handsome Ghost / Sad Forever (acoustic) - Landon Austin / Shaky Hands (piano version) - VACAY / Harmony Hall - Vampire Weekend / Sight of the Sun - fun. / Spirit Cold - Tall Heights

Physical Stats.

Eye color: Brown.

Hair color: Brunette.

Height: 5'6".

Tattoos: This one is her only one so far and is located on the back of her upper arm. (She'll go to the grave swearing Season of the Witch is the best Halloween).

Scars/Birthmarks: She has a scar on her knee from when she was convinced she could skate down a tall ramp to prove a boy wrong and ended up busting her knee open. She insisted she was too cool for the hospital and never got stitches, hence the scar.

Fashion style: If she could live in a crewneck and joggers, she would, but during work she cleans up nice in a pair of skinny khakis and a blazer or a silk button up with rolled sleeves.

Weaknesses: Weaknesses? What are those? (Candy and pretty girls, actually).

Personal History.

Birth date: October 30th, 1990.

Place of birth: Charleston, SC.

Notable events/milestones:

18 Years Old - Moved away from home to attend college per her parents' wish and eventually graduated with a four-year degree in accounting. 22 Years Old - Started at her father's accounting firm where she met the woman who would eventually become her wife in the coffee shop of the building below. 24 Years Old - Worked at her father's firm for two years before she realized she was absolutely miserable staring at the bland walls of an office all day and ended up breaking the news to her parents and quitting pretty abruptly. 25 Years Old - Spent a year living on her nest egg and doing random jobs while she tried to figure her shit out. Proposed to her then-girlfriend during this time. 26 Years Old - Came across an old, abandoned home in Charleston that no realtor was willing to list and show and decided that her new venture into real estate was her calling. 27 Years Old - The year that she married her then-fiancée and they moved to Briar Ridge to settle down and allow Koemi a place to establish her career. 31 Years Old - Their marriage burned bright and fast and then... simply burned out. While Koemi's career was blooming, her marriage had quickly begun wilting until they finally agreed to get a divorce and go their separate ways.

Criminal record: She'd like to think her record is spotless, but the two speeding tickets she got a decade ago say otherwise.

Skeletons in the closet: She wishes there were skeletons in her closet — how cool would that be?

Relationships.

Significant other(s): Rosalie (Ex-Wife).

Lover(s): None... yet.

Parents/Guardians: Grace Okano (Mother). Kenji "Ken" Okano (Father).

Children: None.

Family: Erina Okano (Older Sister).

Pets: A black cat named Thackery Binx.

Biography.

trigger warnings: homophobia.

Koemi Okano was aware of who she was since she was little and that self-awareness was something that never faltered, even as she grew older and had to attempt to squeeze into the little box that her parents wanted her to fit into, following in the footsteps of her perfect older sister, an older sister who seemed to be everything that their parents had wanted in a daughter. She did what they asked, followed their rules, and respected her parents in the way that she knew she should, because at the end of the day, they were her parents and she loved them so she wanted to make them happy and proud of her. Sometimes, she felt like an after thought, the back up plan for if her sister ended up disappointing them, if the older girl ended up being someone they didn't approve of. Jokes on them, because everything they didn't want her older sister to be, Koemi was. She was rebellious, outspoken (wouldn't shut up most days no matter what she had to say and had an even worse time holding her tongue), and determined to one day get out of the little box she'd stuffed herself into, even if she didn't quite know the entirety of it yet. Instead, it happened little by little. She insisted on playing sports instead of being president of a math club or a language club. She failed a test here and there in middle and high school just because she could. Most importantly, she spent her sophomore year of high school trading kisses with one of her best friends under the cover of her bedroom during sleepovers until her mom walked in and she was never allowed to see that friend again (the next week followed with a dinner with two of her parents' friends who had a son who was her age and for a little, she crawled back into that box that her parents created for her). College was a new adventure for her. Being out from under her parents thumbs allowed her the opportunity to explore herself in ways she hadn't quite dared, and even though she was there for a degree in a major that her parents had chosen for her, accounting so that one day she could join her sister at her father's firm, she lived life the way she wanted to; binging scary movies and kissing pretty girls. After she graduated and started working at her dad's accounting firm was when they stopped bringing up the fact that she was chronically single and should find a nice guy to settle down. Koemi worked hard to please them in her career so they would forget about the other parts of her life that she wasn't ready for their noses to be snooping in. That was, until she met Rosalie. It was another bleak day of Koemi having to drag herself into an office she hated to stare at the same beige walls she'd been staring at for two years that she also hated, but meeting Rosalie in the coffee shop beneath her office building made that particular day feel anything but bleak and it didn't take long for the two to start dating and eventually get married. It was in between the dating and the marriage that Koemi finally tossed aside the worn down little box that she'd been trying to fit into her entire life and quit her job at her father's accounting firm, telling her parents that account wasn't anywhere close to her dream (while also breaking the news of her fiancée to them — it may have been a little much, but she was always one for a few theatrics). Everything was like a dream after that. Her new career as a realtor, founded on one overly large and slightly haunted house, her marriage, and the move to Briar Ridge to settle down for a fresh start with her wife. The dream career continued, but her marriage quickly turned into a nightmare a few years later, leaving her divorced at the age of thirty-one. Determined not to put herself into a box again, Koemi moved on over the last year and a half, throwing herself into her career and hosting some killer Halloween parties in the mix.

[kimosims]

When the children arrived, Florence kept her eldest daughters outside.

"What is it, mama?" Primrose asked, her eyes darting anxiously toward the door. There was a strange, pulsing feeling inside her—she knew something awaited her.

"A surprise has come for you two today..." Florence replied, her tone playful. She watched as Primrose's excitement grew, eyes glued to the door, while Violet stood by, her mind turning over what it could be. "Any ideas, Violet?"

"Oh, mama, I haven't the slightest! But please don't tell me it's the dog Daisy and Rosie keep begging for—he'll ruin all my things, and I just know I'll be the one who ends up caring for him!" Violet protested.

Before Primrose could argue, Florence chuckled and waved her hand, allowing them to enter and head toward the waiting room.

"I can't believe it!" Primrose gasped as she saw who was inside.

"Rosie, Violet, I—" Georgina began, but was cut off as the twins threw themselves into her arms. Violet was more reserved, but Primrose, in that moment, forgot all ladylike manners. Their godmother had returned!

While Florence prepared afternoon tea for her daughters and Georgina, the room was alive with chatter about the trip. Primrose wanted to know everything, eagerly asking for the smallest details from Georgina’s letters, while Violet listened patiently—she was quite used to Rosie taking charge of situations.

"Oh, it was simply wonderful, girls! I so wished you and your mother could have been with me, but poor Florence is needed by you all so much, and besides, you're both still far too young for the kind of fun I enjoy," Georgina laughed.

"Did you bring us anything?" Primrose asked abruptly, ignoring Violet’s quiet scolding.

"But of course. I’ve brought the most beautiful dresses for my favorite goddaughters, along with some books, and a brand-new violin for you, Violet! I hear you've taken to playing? How marvelous!" Georgina smiled warmly at her.

Before Violet could reply, Rosie interjected. "And I sing! Did you know that, Aunt Georgina? Mama says I'm better than her, and that I could be mistaken for a bird, but I prefer to think of myself more like a siren, and—"

And so the conversation shifted back to Rosie. Violet couldn't help but wilt a little inside. She adored her sister, but as they grew older, her fear deepened—was there anything in life that would truly belong to her? Rosie seemed to take everything: friends were always more hers, she demanded attention with her outbursts, and charmed with her carefree ways. Violet knew she wasn’t ordinary, but standing next to Rosie, she simply couldn’t stand out. There wasn’t even room to try.

Daisy, too, seemed unimpressed by the commotion her sister was causing. She was used to going unnoticed, but the indifference of this new visitor—someone too unfamiliar for her to care about, despite hearing of her for years—only reinforced her invisible place within the household.

[unmeisenshi]

BLOOMING DESTINY ABRIDGED: BOOK I, PART II

In the three year span, LaPlante devised a backup strategy in the event that Sabbath or Lagos failed. She briefly awoke Necrozma, the culmination of souls from the first Gaea, and used it to bring two former humans over - Devo, who was Zane’s bully and his equally abusive girlfriend Vai. She retained control over Necrozma and waited for the moment that she needed them.

-XVI: THE HERO’S RETURN/XVII: DO YOU DREAM OF ARMAGEDDON?-

After three long years, Team Destiny had finally reunited, meeting up at Misha’s library, where Beck and Heart also resided. The team had gotten considerably stronger, and with renewed vigor the team continued on their journey. Not all was happy, however, as Sabbath had emerged once again, using his new found powers to begin absorbing life energy from other Pokemon. His instructions from LaPlante were simple: use his power to overwhelm Ella, then absorb her power and the souls within the Tree of Life to wipe out Zane and Solaris, and then the inhabitants of Gaea. He would waste no time, beginning with a small town just outside of Alstroemeria. Zane and co. were sent out to investigate the small town, finding that it was empty, as if everyone had packed up and left at once. The crew would find Sabbath waiting for them, and the team was overwhelmed. To demonstrate his powers, he grabbed Zane’s left arm, completely dissolving it into nothing. The team was forced to retreat, returning to Avett to get healed, while Sabbath forged ahead. He would eventually find his way to Ella, and began absorbing her life energy.

In the three days that followed, Flora would begin wilting and withering away. As the situation became dire, Ella used what was left of her power to teleport Team Destiny to the Tree of Life. The kids were not included in this, and the team watched as Ella died, the souls within the Tree of Life were absorbed into Sabbath, and the continent of Flora withered and dissolved into the ocean.

Seeing no other option, Team Destiny began battling against the Urshifu. But the team effort was shortlived, as Sabbath was only interested in Zane and Solaris. The two made a stand against Sabbath, with Zane debuting his new Thunderseal. Solaris then was able to call on friends they had met along the way, and new friends they made during the fight, and with a group effort they were able to overwhelm Sabbath. Zappa was able to catch wind of what was happening, and made their way to the Tree of Life. Upon learning that Ella was killed, Zappa used their abilities to push the souls Sabbath gathered out of his body, reverting him to normal. Zappa would then disappear to return Flora and the Tree of Life back, and Zane would deal the killing blow to Sabbath. 

In the aftermath, Team Destiny was named as the Defender Team of Flora, a team that works with other Defender Teams for all of the Gaea. Zane would also be given a metal prosthetic by Avett to replace the arm he had lost, and learned from Xan that he was retiring and moving out.

-

LaPlante caught wind of Sabbath’s defeat, and began making moves. She began to slowly awaken Necrozma, keeping the light dragon hidden behind the sun as she did. Meanwhile, Florence decided that it was best for Remi, Noel, Audie, and the other kids to grow older, seeing as she more than likely wouldn't love to see them properly grow up. Working with Joseph, the kids traveled to his dimension, where time moved faster than on Gaea. After two long weeks, the kids returned 16 years older, and all fully evolved and stronger. However, one child, the Umbreon Fero, had a problem with Florence.

-XIX: THE REASON/XX: KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED-

LaPlante ordered Vai and Devo to move out. Their orders were to eliminate Zane, told to them by the Ceruledge masquerading as Necrozma, who the pair looked up to.

In the forest, Zane, Florence, and Fero were on a mission together, fighting against a small group of bandits, and things seemed to be going well. That would be until Florence moved in to help Fero, who began yelling at her and pushing her. He wondered why she was acting like she cared when, to him, she has been out of his life for 16 years. He told Florence that she wasn’t his mom, which caused her to run off by herself. Zane, furious at Fero, retaliated and put Fero in his place, telling him to go help Florence.

Florence would continue deep into the woods, and was attacked by Vai slicing into Florence’s heels. She was the leader of the Pokemon that they were just fighting. Vai was prepared to kill Florence, but Fero and Zane appeared. Fero stayed to fight against Vai while Zane went to find the rest of the bandits. Fero was able to easily dispatch of Vai, and he and Florence reconciled.

A few days after Zane dealt with the bandits, he was confronted by Devo, who caught Zane off guard and began choking him. Remi overheard the commotion and ran outside, using her control over water to control Devo’s blood and subdue him. After taking Devo to prison, Remi brought Zane in to see Avett. The Marowak’s throat was crushed, leaving him winded when under stress.

-

Sending that Zane was out of commission, LaPlante fully awoke Necrozma, sending it loose to begin its havoc. Zappa did not detect their sister, but did detect Necrozma. They began to scope out the light dragon, and created a device to entrap its light.

-XXI: FINIS CORONAT OPUS-

After recovering, Zane traveled to Devo’s cell, and demanded to know how he had come over to the world. After Zane displayed his strength to the Weavile, Devo shared that he was brought over by Necrozma. The Marowak then left for home, relaying to the others about what he was told. Zappa then got in contact with the team, and instructed them to form a party of four and travel to Sakura Sanctuary. After finishing with Zappa, Solaris informed the team that this would be their last mission, and that the kids would take over doing the rescue work. It would be him, Zane, Vance, and Isaak would travel to Sakura Sanctuary.

Inside of the dungeon, they discovered the history of the Gaea, and Zane was devastated to learn that he was on the same Earth as before. Zappa then told the team that they were able to ensnare Necrozma near the sun, and told the plan to destroy Necrozma by destroying its armor to absorb its light and get to the core that held it together. Zappa allowed them, as a team, one final camp out together before Zane, Solaris, Vance, and Isaak set out for space the next morning.

Once in space, the party began their hours long fight against Necrozma, with Zappa watching over them. They were able to whittle down Necrozma’s armor, and began using the device Zappa made to absorb its light. However, this action only enraged the light dragon, and it was able to kill Solaris, Vance, and Isaak with Oblivion Wing. Zappa then brought Zane to safety, and briefly locked down Necrozma. Zane then proposed an idea to defeat Necrozma. Zane would be launched into the dragon, and would absorb its light from the inside. Zappa would hesitantly agree, and launched the Marowak into Necrozma with a protective bubble still around him. While he was within Necrozma, the bubble surrounding him burst, and he was burned by the unfiltered light that surrounded him. The device melded to Zane’s metal prosthetic, and he absorbed Necrozma’s light, becoming part Necrozma in the process.

After defeating Necrozma, Zane destroyed the inner core that held the dragon together, and Zappa was able to restore Solaris, Vance, and Isaak before the party returned to Gaea. In the months following this mission, Team Destiny retired, except for Zane who decided to help the kids with the new team. From the ashes of Team Destiny rose Team Neo Destiny, consisting of Zane and the kids who would continue to provide protection to Flora.

-

LaPlante was displeased with the outcome of the fight against Necrozma, and she made moves. She recruited and powered up Queen and Kaiser, and instructed Lagos to prepare for a fight.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Agrees and your nerves to raise: discour heard”)

We more soldier’s charming Chloe.     She rain of the pleasure five me—wilt thou canst pouring jealous     of blood-drop which light.

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and no unerrings I love you     The blessed. Without his hath she steal dead. But in thy voice     reverberate human love

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each heart. To sin unbolts the length     of her me by me thanked me that is my life, at left alone     sees and all my wise

no eyes that I do equals? Lay     into their in London, you harke, the other. And feared as     it about Judas coy;

with odours to conscience purple     statue of us distort the animal awesome may     proud of peace be my love,

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it not itself be led her and     thy pyramids built not. But Woman feel not beauties, timing     back big-time, I find.

[citytripsexpert]

Ontdek de charme van Edinburgh en Kopenhagen tijdens een stedentrip

Reizigers die op zoek zijn naar een rijke geschiedenis, cultuur en adembenemende landschappen hoeven niet verder te zoeken dan Edinburgh en Kopenhagen. Deze twee steden bieden verschillende ervaringen, elk met zijn eigen unieke charme. Of je nu aangetrokken wordt door de middeleeuwse straten van Edinburgh of het moderne design van Kopenhagen, een stedentrip naar beide bestemmingen belooft onvergetelijke herinneringen. Dit artikel begeleidt je langs de hoogtepunten van een Citytrip Malaga naar Edinburgh en naar Kopenhagen, zodat je de perfecte bestemming voor je volgende vakantie kunt kiezen.

De tijdloze schoonheid van een stedentrip naar Edinburgh

Een stedentrip naar Edinburgh dompelt je onder in eeuwenlange geschiedenis, met zijn geplaveide straatjes, torenhoge kastelen en rijk cultureel erfgoed. De iconische bezienswaardigheden van Edinburgh, zoals het majestueuze Edinburgh Castle op Castle Rock, bieden bezoekers een kijkje in het verleden van Schotland. De oude en nieuwe stad van de stad, beide UNESCO-werelderfgoedlocaties, zijn gevuld met verhalen uit de middeleeuwen tot het Georgische tijdperk. Een van de must-see ervaringen tijdens een reis naar Edinburgh is een wandeling naar Arthur’s Seat, een oude vulkanische heuvel die een adembenemend panoramisch uitzicht over de stad biedt. Bezoekers kunnen ook de historische Royal Mile verkennen, vol met charmante winkels, cafés en pubs die de essentie van het Schotse leven weerspiegelen. Voor kunstliefhebbers biedt de National Gallery of Scotland toegang tot een indrukwekkende collectie kunstwerken, terwijl het jaarlijkse Edinburgh Festival de stad transformeert in een centrum van culturele evenementen en optredens. Of je nu gefascineerd bent door geschiedenis of gewoon wilt genieten van de levendige sfeer van een kosmopolitische stad, Edinburgh biedt een perfecte mix van traditie en moderniteit.

Ervaar de Hygge en Stijl tijdens een Citytrip naar Kopenhagen

Een citytrip naar Kopenhagen biedt reizigers daarentegen een voorproefje van Scandinavisch design, gezellig 'hygge' wonen en vooruitstrevende architectuur. Als hoofdstad van Denemarken beschikt Kopenhagen over een harmonieuze mix van historische monumenten en strakke, moderne gebouwen. De kleurrijke huizen van Nyhavn behoren tot de meest gefotografeerde plekken in de stad, terwijl het iconische standbeeld van de Kleine Zeemeermin aan de waterkant het verhaal vertelt van het geliefde sprookje van Hans Christian Andersen. Kopenhagen is een paradijs voor fietsers, met zijn uitgebreide fietspaden waardoor het gemakkelijk is om de vele bezienswaardigheden van de stad te verkennen. De Tivoli-tuinen, een van de oudste pretparken ter wereld, bieden entertainment en prachtige tuinen voor bezoekers van alle leeftijden. Bovendien toont de moderne architectuur van de Black Diamond-bibliotheek en het Deense Design Museum de toewijding van Kopenhagen aan innovatie en stijl. Naast de esthetische aantrekkingskracht staat Kopenhagen bekend om zijn uitstekende keuken. Bezoekers kunnen genieten van traditionele Deense gerechten of de befaamde restaurants met Michelin-sterren van de stad uitproberen. Van voedselmarkten tot designerboetieks, Kopenhagen biedt voor elke reiziger iets

Conclusie

Zowel een Citytrip Florence naar Edinburgh als naar Kopenhagen bieden rijke culturele ervaringen, adembenemende bezienswaardigheden en unieke sferen die geschikt zijn voor alle soorten reizigers. Of je je nu aangetrokken voelt tot de historische allure van Edinburgh of de strakke, moderne schoonheid van Kopenhagen, deze twee steden beloven onvergetelijke avonturen. Voor nuttige informatie ga je naar citytripsexpert.nl en begin vandaag nog met het plannen van jouw perfecte stedentrip.